The weird thing about my drunk habits is that I always overdress for bedtime. On a sober night, I just sleep in undies and a t-shirt. After a drunk night, I wake up wearing every article of clothing I own. This morning, I got out of bed wearing my Steelers sweats, an IUP t-shirt, and a Penn State hoodie. My intoxicated dressing habits indicate that I’m subconsciously missing the homeland A LOT.

Speaking of home…

‘Cause it’s a long and rugged road
And we don’t know where it’s headed
But we know it’s gonna get us where we’re going
And when we find what we’re looking for
We’ll drop these bags and search no more
‘Cause it’s gonna feel like heaven when we’re home
- The Wailin’ Jennys

Relevant (from 10/2/11): Maybe I need to go everywhere not because I’m a transient non-settler but because I actually believe in home and settling more than anything so I’m desperately searching for exactly the right place?

And the truth is I’ve been dreaming of some tired tranquil place
Where the weather won’t get trapped inside my bones
And if all these years of searching, I find one sympathetic face
Then it’s there I’ll plant these seeds and make my home
- June on the West Coast, Bright Eyes

Yep. More than three months later, I can conclude that the previous sentiment was, in fact, an accurate assessment.

This is also why I have real problems with even getting to the point of considering a relationship with a guy. I mean, some of that does have to do with the Matt disaster, but even before him, I refused to date anyone seriously because I just didn’t like any of them enough. I’m picky, but it’s because I believe in passionate living way too much. And I’m not going to settle down in a place or with a person until I know it’s absolutely worthwhile… in that it has the potential to be exactly right.

A huge part of me knows that home is Pittsburgh because I guess that’s my ultimate goal but there’s obviously something else that’s pulling me away from Pittsburgh and making me need to explore everything. Maybe it’s so I know, with certainty, that Pittsburgh is the place? Maybe I have to know for certain that what I’m looking for isn’t someplace else and that it was in Pittsburgh the whole time. Or I guess the other possibility is that it isn’t Pittsburgh and that’s the reason I left. Which makes me sad because I want it to be Pittsburgh. But obviously, the reason I didn’t stay is because my soul is in search of something else. Or maybe Pittsburgh is the place but I’m subconsciously in search of the person to establish a sense of home with. I don’t know. All I know is that I’m here in Mobile right now. And probably half starting over in New Orleans next January. And then going from there.

It’s hard to feel panicked about anything when you don’t even know what it is that you’re looking for.

And the fact that girls are starting to become afraid of the fact that they might end up as a lonely crazy cat lady with a tedious life is insanity to me. First of all, I would never let my life become lonely because I inherently just stumble across good people who become my lifelong friends. Secondly, I’m never going to have cats. I generally hate them. I might be a crazy dog lady, I guess. That doesn’t even sound so bad though. Thirdly, tedious? Yeah, that’s not gonna happen either. I don’t know how it’s possible to feel like life is uneventful when there’s so much to do and see. And there are always ways you can channel your boredom into helping other people also.

So, I guess even in the worst case scenario of perpetually being single until I die, life still seems pretty damn awesome. Still getting a boat no matter what happens. And having the time and resources and lack of obligations to allow me to actually travel the world regularly seems awesome too. Life is what you make of it. Don’t be stressing about how you feel like you’re not going to get what you want. Make it what you want, no matter what the situation is.

Plus, I feel like all guys our age are just developmentally behind in some way. They don’t have the same values or motivation. I’m tired of babysitting. But I’m not ready to date 30 year olds either. Maybe in another 3-4 years I will be. We’ll see what happens.

So, all that stress that’s out there… I just don’t feel it or understand it. I really really have no idea why everyone else is FREAKING OUT about this. Let’s all just relax, ladies. Don’t define yourself by the existence of men in your life. Live it up. That’s what our twenties were for. Honestly, once you have that first kid, your little black dresses will never look the same, if you can even fit back into them at all. And you won’t have time to go out and wear them either. I’m really seeing no perks of being married right now. It all seems like one big disadvantage to me. Date men, yes. Marry them, no. Freak out about not being married, DEFINITELY NOT.

noun ( pl. -nies)
the events that will necessarily happen to a particular person or thing in the future : she was unable to control her own destiny.

This was my favorite toy when I was a kid… hands down. I remember being obsessed with listening to hearts. It was mindblowing to a 4 year old.

Not as mindblowing as a real stethoscope though. I feel like I’m a 4 year old all over again.

I don’t really believe in destiny, per se. It’s not like this was written in the stars before I was born or something. But I do believe that what you’re interested in as a kid probably means more than you think in terms of where you end up as an adult. Had I just thought about that damn medical kit, I think the answers to my confusion would have be obvious all along. I loved diagnosing people (and stuffed animals) and then deciding what needed to be done to fix them and then providing them with the requisite care and compassion. On the inside, I’m 50% science and 50% nurturing and apparently have been since preschool. The Bill Nye the Science Guy episodes about the human body only fueled the fire.

As 90s kids, I really think we all owe a lot to that man. Here’s a list of episodes dealing specifically with the human body. Check them out if you ever get the chance. The memories will come flooding back.

#4: Skin
#7: Digestion
#23: Blood and Circulation
#20: Eyeballs
#28: Bones and Muscle
#34: Brain
#40: Respiration
#76: Heart
#91: Smell (includes stuff about other animals too, as I recall)

In general, our bodies are amazing. But it’s crazy when you listen to your own heart doing everything that you know hearts do and working in the way you know hearts work. It’s in you right now filling and pumping. I know I sound like I’m high. This is probably less than incredible to you. But one day it will hit you. Get a real stethoscope and listen to your heart. Then think about what a pumping heart looks like. If you’ve never seen one, I’m sure you can find something online. It’s like something is alive inside of you.

It’s like a whole new level of self-awareness. Babies look in mirrors. 20-somethings listen to their heart.

Our bodies are complex and beautiful. It’s like  everything is perfectly choreographed. I mean, just study the basics of homeostasis. So many things in your body have to be at just the right levels to keep you alive. And all the systems work as feedback mechanisms to other systems and somehow it all comes together to keep you breathing and conscious and capable of doing things.

Aside from the CNS, the musculoskeletal system is probably my favorite. I really think everyone should be required to take A&P. Once you know all the major muscles of the body and know what they do and how they work together to move you, life can never be the same.

And it’s weird to think that every single part of you is alive pretty much. Your cells are metabolizing and communicating with each other and fighting battles and all kinds of things. Aside from non-mitotic cells like neurons and cardiac muscle cells, your body is one big circle of life. Cells are born, they divide, and they die. Instead of feeling like one living person, sometimes I feel disjointed because what we really are is just an amalgamation of trillions of cells that are perfectly specialized weirdly work together somehow. The feeling that you’re alive as yourself but are also made entirely out of smaller things that are also alive is a strange one. There’s life in every part of you. Even your BONES are alive. And when you think about it like that, you hit some kind of super-awareness zenith where you feel like you’re bursting from being TOO alive. I don’t know. I definitely do sound high. It’s hard to explain this feeling though.

The human body isn’t exactly perfect because if it were, we wouldn’t die. However, there are some pretty perfect things about it that make me feel perfectly alive every day.

And in a lot of ways, I feel like I actually was unable to control my own destiny. Primarily because of what happened when I just let go. Destiny took over and now here I am where I was always meant to be, I guess.

Or this.

Or this.

I could go on forever.

Also, according to Binks, my mom cracked this joke at the Sunday dinner table…

Q: What’s the difference between an Irish wedding and an Irish funeral?
A: One less drunk.

Ahaha. I bet my dad was slightly displeased with that one. Especially at Sunday dinner.  He’s kind of uptight. I guess it’s not his fault though. He comes from a family of non-drinking non-partying conservative Christians.

My mom’s side of the family loves Jesus just as much, but they also like to have a good time. And if people on both sides are getting into heaven, I know which one I’d rather be like.

At least it’s now obvious to me where I get it from. My alcohol tolerance was not something I earned. It was a gift. A beautiful genetic gift.

“He’s watching us all now from the coaches box.”
- some kid on Reddit

Clint Dempsey pulled off a hat trick today vs. Newcastle. Why is this a big deal? He was the FIRST AMERICAN to do it in a Premier League game. USA USA USA!

I’m wondering if it’s overkill to wear my Dempsey jersey every day this week.

To me, this is like Neil Armstrong walking on the moon. One small step for Clint Dempsey, one giant step for American soccer players and fans.

Soccer is the greatest game ever invented. It does seem kind of boring at first. But then as you watch more of it, and you’re able to take it all in, you start to pick up on the subtleties that make it the most exciting thing you will ever watch. Even if only 1 goal is scored the whole time, a regular game is so intense/emotional/heartbreaking/exhilarating. It makes people fall off couches and dance on bars.

I need more people to love it. Like if you think watching a Steelers game with yinzers at any yinzer bar in Pittsburgh is an exciting time, you should watch a soccer game with any group of non-Americans when their favorite team is on. I was in Chile for a few of their World Cup qualifier games. That’s the moment I knew I was in love. A lifetime of growing interest became full-blown love at some point during that summer.

There are some rabid soccer fans in the US too. It’s just kind of difficult to find them. If you live in Pittsburgh, Piper’s is the place to be. I don’t think there’s anything like that even close to Mobile, unfortunately.

I’ve tried to arbitrarily pick a Premier League team to love but since I have no real ties to any of the teams, it’s just not the same. I still love to watch it because it’s beautiful and mindblowing but I’m never really emotionally invested in it. I kind of passively follow MLS soccer but it’s kind of the same deal. I don’t really have a team because they’re relatively few and far between and also, the skill level is obviously not at the Premier League level. It’s like watching any college sports game between two teams you don’t care about. Still cool if you’re interested in that sport, but not really as exciting/engaging.

I need more people in the US to care so that we can have all kinds of formidable players and more more MLS teams and more sponsorship and game attendance. Get interested then throw money at it! Because it will be just as cool/profitable to play here as in Europe.

And most importantly, we’ll win the World Cup. The day we win the World Cup will actually be the best damn day of my life. Forget all those other life landmarks like the day you get married and the day you buy your first house and the day your first kid is born and the day you get promoted to CEO. When the US men’s team wins the World Cup, I am going to quit my job and celebrate for an entire month. And I don’t care if I’m 90 when it happens. This is going to happen in my lifetime. I refuse to die until I see it happen.

I was too young to remember when the women did it in 1991. But I sure as hell remember when they did it in 1999. It inspired a nation. And as a (just barely) 12 year old girl, it inspired me to just be awesome in general. On July 10, 1999, I learned that women are just as badass as men. I think the women on that team are still my heros. This is how I feel every time I accomplish something awesome:

(That’s iconic shit. I wish it was more appropriate to rip off your shirt in public and drop to the ground. I’d probably do it a lot.)

ESPN says they’re still the best, too.

The women’s team won again in 2003. And almost won last year. That quarterfinal game was absolutely THE BEST thing I have ever watched. I’ve never felt such explosive joy and maybe never will again. I’ve never gone from “Oh my God, this is hopeless and I’m OUTRAGED” (because there was ALL KINDS OF BS going down in that game) to “HOLYFUCKINGFUCKICANTBELIEVETHEYPULLEDTHATOFFOURTEAMISAMAZINGANDNOONEELSECOULDHAVEDONETHATTHISISTHEBESTDAYOFMYLIFEUSAUSAUSA” so fast in my life.

10 players from the 66th minute to the end? NO PROBLEM. I still get all riled up about this obviously. I could rewatch that game over and over and over again. Pretty sure I had a 10 foot vertical jump that day. I also remember just collapsing on the floor after it was all over. I probably shed a tear. The moment is forever burned into my brain. It’s PROOF that you can overcome situations that are blatantly unfair and still succeed. I haven’t given up on anything since.

Then they beat France (psh, easy) but lost to Japan in the final. Sad. Until I found out that the women on Japan’s national team only practice at night and basically have to keep part-time jobs on the side to pay the bills because they don’t sell a lot of tickets to games and don’t get endorsements or sponsorships or anything due to lack of popularity. (http://hararie-japan-tokyo-tokyo.com/japanese_culture/2011/08/post-1.html)

Plus, there was the whole tsunami thing and it was a huge morale boost for the country. Sometimes it’s ok for my team to lose. This is one of those times. Job well done, Japan.

Anyway, soccer… love it, please. More fans –> more players –> more good players –> more teams. I want an MLS team to live and die by. For awhile, I was kind of a Liverpool fan by default just because Matt is arbitrarily a Liverpool fan. Since that was the only reason I rooted for them, I obviously could care less about them at this point. Maybe I’ll become a Chelsea fan. That would be cathartic.

Back to Clint Dempsey. Can I get a print of this for my office?

That’s him scoring the 3rd goal. THAT’S HISTORY.

Start watching some US men’s games. Even if you actually end up not liking soccer, you can at least have a good time watching Tim Howard yell at the subpar backfield every time they fail. I love Tim Howard. He saves our ass all the damn time. We’d be nothing without him. He’s so good. SO GOOD.

In other sports news… Pens game last night. I didn’t watch it but after my phone started blowing up, debilitating homesickness set in because I wanted so badly to have been watching it with everyone. Sports-related things are responsible for 99% of my acute homesickness episodes. It was an explosive joy type of game, apparently. As we all know, those are my favorite. I only saw the highlights. But they were damn good highlights. First of all, Letang is BACK and so are the Pens. Praise Jesus. Second of all, MALKIN FOR MVP! Incredible performance. And he’s scored 8 goals in the last 10 games or something like that. I think I need to name my first kid Geno. That’s probably something you have to bring up right after the proposal while your husband-to-be is still elated. This is how the scenario plays out in my head…

- Of course I’ll marry you. We’re going to name our first kid Geno.
- I love you so much that it doesn’t matter. And let’s name the dog Letang.

And now, here’s something that’s not sports related at all. Geography lesson!

Where is Alabama? I think y’all need some assistance with this.

Drew called me the other day. The beginning of the conversation went like this…

Drew: When do you have a 4 day weekend or any time off? We have to go to Odessa.
Me: Where the hell is that?
Drew: Texas. I figured that since you live in Alabama, I could just get you on the way.
Me: Do you know where Alabama is?
Drew: Close to Texas.
Me: Not really. There are TWO states in between. It takes like 8 hours to get there, I think. Why do we need to go anyway?
Drew: Grandma Lane was born there. I need to connect with my roots. She hasn’t been back since the late 70s. I think it’d be cool to meet some new extended family and see if her old house is still there. And I need to get out of NY. I’ve also heard good things about the taco trucks.

While he’s talking about this, I’m Googling Odessa. It’s almost on the other freaking side of the state.

Me: It’s a 16 hour trip from Mobile!
Drew: What really? I looked at it on a map. It didn’t seem like it’d be that long. I thought you said it was 16 hours from Pittsburgh to Mobile. It can’t be that long from Mobile to Odessa.
Me: DO YOU KNOW HOW BIG TEXAS IS?
Drew: No, but how do you? You’ve never been there before either.
Me: … Well, it looks pretty damn big on a map. And Google confirmed that it’s pretty damn big.
Drew: Ok, so not happening during a 4 day weekend. Maybe a half-day trip after ACL Fest?

(Austin is 6 hours from Odessa, according to Google Maps. Sigh.)

And then today, Kelly was like “I just looked at a map and Alabama is not where I thought it was. Definitely going to apparate,” when she was looking into travel options for visiting me in April.

I love you guys. Forever.

However, so that there’s no more confusion as to where I’ve gone, here’s a map of the United States of America. Alabama is circled in red. Everyone take note of where it is in reference to you. Pennsylvania and New York are circled in green. For Drew, Texas is circled in blue. (Notice how much bigger the Texas circle is compared to Alabama. And even the circle that includes both New York AND Pennsylvania.

Also, Drew… please make sure you look at a map of the world before you suggest that we go find your long lost relatives in Veracruz and swim across the Gulf of Mexico to get there.

It also maybe needs to be noted that Mobile is at the very bottom of Alabama. Here’s a map in case you have any questions about the actual location of my city. It’s circled in red.

Here’s the recipe, according to Alexis who posted it:

spray pam in a mug. scramble 2 eggs. add milk, pepper, garlic powder. microwave for 50 sec. add cheese. microwave for another 50 sec or so. PERFECTION ACHIEVED.

Perfection indeed.

I’m now a disciple for scrambled eggs in the microwave. Spread the word. Change lives.

Other things that save my life:
- Third Eye Blind at 3am
- Cinnabon cereal at 3am
- The guy who works the overnight shift at FedEx Office. He’s my new BFF. I see him a lot now. He talks to me about stupid stuff while I print things because the library is closed. He’s bored. I’m tired. Symbiosis.
- The fact that FedEx Office is open 24 hours.
- The Avett Brothers at 7am
- Coffee all damn day

Also, one of my classmates started laughing for no reason in Pharmacology today. And had to pretend to cough to hide the fact that she was laughing. But then she started laughing again. And had to pretend to cough again. Sometimes you start laughing and just can’t stop. She sits diagonally in front of me. The person next to me started to laugh because it was hilarious that this other girl was laughing for no reason. The person next to me then proceeded to fake cough as well. All of this was obviously freakin hilarious to me too because people laughing for no reason is automatically funny and also really contagious. I didn’t laugh fortunately. But I think I wasted half a day’s energy trying not to. Then the guy behind me started to laugh then cough. Shortly thereafter, the laughing for no reason and fake coughing was squelched and no longer spreading. Thank God. It was one of the weirdest/funniest thing I’ve ever experienced. I think that story makes us sound like crazy people. Go to nursing school –> become insane.

Finally, good news/bad news…

Bad news first: Mary told me a few days ago that she’s punking out on her Christianity post. Which is sad because she’s super chill about it and has a really cool non-traditional views about some things. I guess she wrote most of it then stopped because she didn’t know how to finish it or something. If you want to send her a hate e-mail because you’ve been let down, just send it to me and I’ll forward it to her.

Good news second: Ashley said she’d write something when I asked her last week and I think she has equally awesome views on Christianity so I’m pretty pumped. Be on the lookout for that at some point! I finally got around to adding her as a contributor

Ashley > Mary

Before I left, I established a timeline for return… 32 or pregnant, whichever comes first.

32, because it’s a good age to hang it up and say, “Ok, it’s time to settle down.”

Pregnant, because I guess it’s possible that I’ll meet a guy and fall in love and marry him and get pregnant before I’m 32. And since there’s no way I’m raising kids anywhere else but Pittsburgh because it’s utopia (although WTF is happening to Port Authority AGAIN?), I’m coming home before the first one is born.  All Pittsburgh babies are born at Magee.

It looks like 32 is gonna be the deciding factor though. I can’t have a kid with someone who doesn’t care about Sidney Crosby.

Also, I just realized that the category cloud for this blog is pretty damn reflective of my life.

Also, memory is weird. Nurses apparently use APA for papers. So, I had to dig out my APA manual from the depths of book stockpile. As soon as I saw it, my brain was like JUANES. Probably because I excessively listened to him during all that cognitive psych research stuff. It made me want to kill myself and he kept my mood elevated enough to not actually kill myself haha. There were a lot of sing-a-long quiero gritar pauses during hours of writing and stat analysis. Those were dark days. It was cathartic because I was like, “Damn, Juanes. You and me both.”

The thing about listening to songs in a language that’s not your first language is that sometimes you’re just cruising along and enjoying your life because it’s upbeat and you feel happy. But then you actually translate the words in your head and you have a realization of, “Well, shit. That’s not happy at all.” Case in point: Fijate Bien. For the longest time, I just thought the chorus was a damn good metaphor. Nope. As soon as I started singing the verses, I realized that it’s literally about land mines. If you’re thinking, “What? Land mines in South America?” Yes. You just got an education.

Anyway… from Juanes, my brain went to CHILE because Gotas De Agua Dulce was on TV all the time when I was there. Then from Chile, my brain went SOPAPILLAS because we ate them all the time. Like ALL the time. And now I need them to live. Study efforts: thwarted. Mission: acquire sopapillas.

I feel like I’m time traveling. This is college all over again.

In really generic terms, I think the first step for everyone in this journey of finding yourself (or determining your purpose or whatever it is) is identifying and/or coming to terms with your potential… which probably is based a lot on accepting who you are. So, the beginning of that acceptance is becoming aware of what you’re good at and what you’re inclined towards in terms of behavior/interests/etc. But you also have to face the fact that you have weaknesses and then subsequently determine what they are as well. The hardest part (for me, at least) was probably learning to be ok with the weaknesses. Facing the fact that I had them was easy. Figuring out what they were was a little more difficult but still relatively easy. The only way I was able to actually accept the weakness was by acknowledging that I’m not the only one who has them. At that point, I think I was able to disregard a lot of my pride/ego and decide to actually do something about them. Once you have a general idea about the strengths/weaknesses, you can begin to live with intention because you zero in on how you want to be better and what skills you already possess to help you get there. Then you kind of have more concrete concepts of what you can/want to achieve using what you have inherently and what “weapons” you’ve amassed via previous achievements/experiences.

Potential = what you can achieve and/or become

which is magically (not mathematically) derived from a combination of

natural strengths + things you’ve learned from your natural weaknesses + things you’ve learned from your past + things you learn as you go while you’re continually working on your natural weaknesses and improving yourself

Then the second step on the journey is figuring out how to maximize that potential once you have an idea of what it generally is. Basically, what I mean by that is you have to somehow determine what’s the most suitable/fitting/appropriate outlet for the expression of that potential. I think for this part, you have to start with the vague ideas you collected in step one and then just let go. Which is where those career battery tests (that the guidance counselors and academic advisors give you) get it all wrong. Don’t overly plan. Don’t look too far ahead. Don’t snap too hard after failures, even if they seem monumental, because they’re probably inconsequential when you take a step back and look at the larger picture (which is your whole damn life). All that crap will put you back at square one over and over again.

Know who you are then just wait and see where you end up. I feel like my life for the last 10 years has been a mess of decision-making fails and freaking out about what I was supposed to do and who I was supposed to be and what I was supposed to be doing to get there. A huge part of the issue was the fact that I was totally stuck at step one.

I was trying to think about the things I was good at too close-mindedly. I could only see it in terms of explicit skills/subjects. Like being good at math, or sports, or art, or history, or leading, or teaching, or cooking. I realized I wasn’t particularly outstanding at anything aside from academic/objective writing. And that obviously wasn’t really helpful because first of all, it’s just one component of a lot of careers/activities so it offered me no guidance in terms of what direction I wanted to head. It wasn’t like being good with animals and being a vet. I couldn’t just be like, “Oh, well, I’m good at writing papers, I guess. I’m gonna go write some papers about some stuff.”

The other thing was that I hated (and still hate) writing papers so it’s not like I was going to be a grant writing consultant or anything like that. I mean, for the most part, almost everyone dislikes writing papers to an extent. But some people have at least some inclination toward writing, in that they prefer writing over other forms of communication/assessment. But to me, writing a paper is the last way I want to be tested and/or have to make a point. I’d rather even just give an oral presentation than write a paper, which is crazy because apparently public speaking is the thing that people, in general, fear the most (more than bees, heights, failure, drowning, etc).

Basically, my problem was that I didn’t think I was good at anything. And if you think about most people, they at least have a few skill areas where they perform better than they do in other skill areas. They don’t have to be geniuses or experts or proteges (because it’s rare that any of us are). But using their own personal baseline of general success, they’re better at some things than other things. Some are more inclined to be “science people” and some are more inclined to be “creative people,” etc. But to me, it just seemed like I was the same all across the board. I got good grades relatively easily but it was never like I just breezed through one subject/area and had to work harder in another. Even outside of school, I was a decent violinist, basketball player, etc. but never the star or one of the best. I had no super skills. I was just mediocre. I did a lot of things because I liked everything so I never got good at anything because I was always splitting time/attention.

But then, sometime in college, I started to think about things in more basic ways. I had to take a step back and forget the specifics in order to realize that it was just as valid to be good at general skills like analyzing, or adapting, or listening, or risk-taking, or cooperating, or organizing, or negotiating as it was to be good at things in more particular areas. I broke out of the school/education/subjects mentality and started thinking about skills that were more translatable to real life and which ones I had naturally and which ones I needed to work on. And at that point, I started to see where I was better/worse. Then, I also started to to accept personality traits as strengths/weaknesses as well and I finally felt like I was on the right track and just had to put it all together somehow.

The only concrete thing I knew going into college was that I wanted to do something that would help people in disadvantaged situations live better/happier/more fulfilling lives. Basically, help poor people have a better standard of living, help sick people get better, help unfree people become liberated, etc.

That’s when I started picking majors/careers. And bounced around between a million things. Every two to three months, I was changing my mind and gearing up for something else. I’d decide, “Ok, this is it,” and be really excited about finally having it all together then something would fall through due to various reasons like a sudden drop in interest, the work/exertion aspect undermining my love for it once it became a chore, my personality not really meshing well with it, etc. Everything ended up being a struggle in one way or another. Not really ever any academic struggles, but challenges in every other way imaginable. And everything ended up feeling like a death sentence. I always felt suffocated by the idea of having to do that one thing for the rest of my life. I’m easily bored so sometimes the deal-breaker was simply just the fact that I didn’t want to work toward something that had such minimal career flexibility even if I was good at it and loved it and was interested in it.

I ended up graduating with a B.S. in Psych/PoliSci and a minor in Latin American Studies kind of haphazardly. When I had to declare at the beginning of junior year, I had a lot of Psych credits already and knew that I loved all things Latin American (and had a decent background in Spanish as a result). The PoliSci thing was a huge freakin whim. I decided to declare it as a second major literally during the walk to my advising appointment when I had to get my tentative graduation plan approved. My advisor was like “The Psych thing sounds fine. But not counting gen eds, you only have 3 credits towards a PoliSci major. You have a ton of rando credits in tons of other subjects but this is an area where you hardly have anything. How about a Bio minor instead of double major with PoliSci?” and I said, “Hells no. I know this sounds crazy. But I still have time,” then she unapprovingly shot me a look and sent me on my way. We never got along really. I think she always was pissed that I rarely listened to her advice. But she always tried to dissuade me from doing things like taking Chemistry for fun because it was going to lower my GPA. Bitch, I love mole problems. Deal with it. I’m not taking Intro to Soc just so I can graduate summa cum laude.

Double majors may seem like they’re awesome type-A “ahead of the game” sorts of people but really, they’re usually just people like me who don’t know what their doing and want to try and pretend like they have their shit together by adding something else to build up their expertise and pass as a formidable goal-oriented person. I hated Psych even though it had interested me a lot at first which is why I took so many damn Psych classes my first few semesters. It just got so boring and repetitive and predictable after awhile and I realized it was because I was actually just interested in the neurology/brain/biology aspect and should have been taking those classes instead. The thing about majoring in Neuro is that you kind of have to start that shit at freshman year to get everything done on time so I knew it was too late for that. But I had all these Psych credits and Pitt didn’t have a Psych minor and there was no way I was letting all that boredom go to waste so for some reason, it seemed like a rational idea to just suck it up and bore myself more and get a major out of it.

But then, when everyone was like “So, what do you want to do with that when you graduate?” and I never had an answer. I couldn’t even fake an answer (that’s how much I hated being a Psych major). And responding to the “What are your goals?” question with “I have no goals” was always super uncomfortable. Everyone seemed to respect the Latin American Studies thing, though. Spanish is super useful no matter what you do (and because of this, I’m marrying a Mexican so my kids will have the bilingual advantage and also so that conservative people will hate me for ruining America). Sometimes I would just skip the “I want nothing to do with Psychology” thing and get straight into rambling about Spanish and then people accepted my response as valid and that was the end. Still awkward, but not as bad. With PoliSci on board, it was easier to pretend like I had an arsenal of knowledge/skills to combine into some kind of awesome career or get me into grad school for something and end up with a PhD. Basically, as soon as you mention the double major, people instantly get impressed and leave you alone.

If there’s one thing I do “well,” it’s impulsively/fearlessly making huge changes and this was obviously a case where it worked out ok. I realized that the success rate from hasty decisions (no matter how hasty) was basically the same as the success rate after putting a lot of thought into something. In both cases, sometimes the outcome is what you want and sometimes the outcome is bad and you have to make another decision from there. PoliSci was more or less enjoyable and I settled into a “law school–>grad school for public policy–>law school–>grad school for public health–>law school” cycle which would carry me through to graduation. The plan was to get a decent job, work a bit, save some money, and apply to some kind of dual degree law program where I could get a masters in public health or public policy on the side.

For an explanation of why that didn’t happen, click here.

After the law school plan failed me and before I arrived at the nursing realization, I was kind of a mess of WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING WRONG AND WHY DOESN’T ANYTHING EVER WORK THE WAY IT’S SUPPOSED TO AND WHAT DO I DO NOW? Typical early twenties/post-college stuff. Then I just gave up and decided to let it go and not have a plan for the first time since like 8th grade. And that’s when everything started falling together. I think maybe it’s because if you don’t have expectations or goals, you just naturally somehow gravitate toward where you’re supposed to be doing because you’re just living your life. I think we get this all messed up as a society. Just living your life is the thing that you’re supposed to be doing. You end up with aspirations/goals/expectations that actually fit your life and it becomes laughably simple. Trying to make your life fit your aspirations is the backwards way to do it. If you don’t know what you want in life or what’s important to your lifestyle or what makes you happy on a daily basis, you’re obviously not going to be able to set realistic goals for yourself. Even if they’re realistically achievable, you probably won’t end up being very happy.

It’s definitely good to instill kids with the ideas of hard work and career possibilities and setting/achieving goals. But I kind of think the constant ”What do you want to be when you grow up?” thing is a little out of control. It’s just really easy to lose sight of who you are and what’s important. Things like just wanting to be the best friend you can be to everyone or following your favorite band around on tour for awhile never seem like legitimate goals/choices to most people. But, in my opinion, as long as you’re not taking away from someone else’s experience or ability to fulfill their own potential or reach their goals (essentially, as long as you’re taking care of yourself and not burdening anyone in any way), why does it matter? Who gets to decide what’s acceptable and what’s not?

A major turning point in my life was during this resignation period. Somewhere in the silence of just being myself and not worrying about who I was supposed to be, I realized that being mildly to moderately decent at almost everything in terms of specific abilities is actually a super skill. I finally understood that I was good at something. I was good at being ok at everything, if that makes sense. I’ll never knock your socks off with my skills but I can marvelously perform any job that requires a lot of varied/conflicting competencies and the ability to perform all these things at once and transition between them effortlessly. What’s a job that requires those things?

Destination: nursing. Hurray!

In general, to be a good floor nurse, you have to be able to treat people medically/scientifically for physical conditions and also provide additional care in the areas of developmental/psychosocial/spiritual/etc needs. You have to have to be able to do math, know science, be good with people, make sound judgments quickly and under pressure, be active, be methodical, adapt easily, be optimistic, take direction, give direction, know how to manage time and prioritize, know how to cooperate, be empathetic/caring, be conscientious, be detached/objective, know how to balance your emotions, be confident/undaunted, be humble, have a sense of humor, etc, etc, etc… (basically going on forever). Some of those things are kind of contradictions in a way. Like if you’re really good at one of those things on the list, you might not very good at another thing. So, because nurses have to balance all those aspects in one job, it’s probably better to be decent at everything than really good at some things and really bad at others. In the latter scenario, it’s harder to incorporate all those aspects into the total care needs of all your patients.

And there are so many different types of nurses who work in different settings and with different groups of people and assess different health issues and also a billion non-nursing things that you can do with a BSN or MSN. So, I don’t feel that sense of dread or being trapped like I did with everything else because when I get bored with whatever I end up doing right after school, I can move on to something else. There’s not one nursing faculty member I’ve met in this program who hasn’t done drastically different things at different points in his/her career as a nurse.

And as I said, the fact that I’m decent at most things is a result of the fact that I generally like most things too. And I used to see this as a burden because it was always like “Goddammit, I love this film class but I love calculus just as much. Which one do I pursue? Which one is going to allow me to help people the most?” But now I kind of see this as more of a pro than a con because it means that I have enthusiasm for universal situations because I love everything that people do and where they’ve been and what their passions are. And there’s nothing more universal than a hospital.

When I get tired or burnt out from being a floor nurse (or whatever I end up doing), I can be an expert witness for court cases and still be involved in the legal process but not have to be a lawyer. Or I can work for a blood drive organization because I love community involvement. Or I can teach other people how to be nurses. Or advocate with grassroots organizations that address healthcare issues because I love public policy and public health. Or I can be a midwife because I’m a strong believer in women having more natural childbirths when possible. Or I can travel the world and work for health-related NGOs. Et cetera… forever.

There are a lot of et ceteras in this post. My life and who I am as a person is a continuous stream of et ceteras and I finally understand where my potential as a human lies and how to maximize it. I feel like I’m finally doing something with my life that’s worthwhile. And all I had to do was give up my constant determination insanity business and be still/calm/uninvolved without a real direction for awhile and let it happen. I just had to let go.

It’s like the universe gives us a puzzle when we’re conceived and as soon as we’re actually born, the box with the puzzle pieces explodes and all the pieces go flying back out into the universe and get mixed up with every one else’s pieces like those TV particles in Willy Wonka. Then after some living, we start to hear people talking about this puzzle thing that we have to put together. And at first, it seems like it’s just a few pieces and should be easy to do. Like “Job, spouse, house, car, kids, pets, retirement… That’s it? Got it,” and you’re like “Astronaut, Jonathan Taylor Thomas, mansion, Jeep Wrangler, 3 daughters, a border collie, beach house in Aruba. Done.” But then you realize that the puzzle is actually 100 pieces, then 1,000 pieces, then 100,000 pieces and it’s harder than you thought to find ALL the pieces that go to your puzzle when there’s so many and they’re just zooming around out there with everyone else’s. Then you realize eventually that this damn puzzle is actually a billion pieces and that you will never ever be able to put it together even if all you do is spend all your time/energy trying to find the pieces that work. Because it seems like for every piece you find, you realize that another one you previously tried to fit into the puzzle doesn’t actually belong. And then you give up. You’re like “Fuck you, puzzle. I’m done. Put yourself together. Or don’t. I don’t care either way.” And then you just become motionless and quiet and collapsed from the defeat of this puzzle nonsense. And after awhile in that silence, you hear a *bloop*and you’re like, “Sigh. Who’s messaging me?” then you slowly open your eyes and get up and go to your computer and see that it’s not even on. Then you check your phone and you have no new texts. Then you check your microwave and realize that your french bread pizza isn’t done yet so it couldn’t have been the microwave. Then you decide that you must have imagined the noise and you close your exhausted eyes and go back to your motionless/quiet/collapsed state for awhile. Then you hear another *bloop* and check your computer (again), phone (again), microwave (again), smoke alarm, and door bell. After verifying that it’s not coming from your house, you resume the defeat. Then you hear the noise AGAIN and this time you open your eyes fast enough so you see a piece fall into your puzzle on its own. And you think “Hmm, that’s weird. But you’re a little too late, puzzle piece. I already gave up,” and return to the resignation state. Then you hear another *bloop* and open your eyes and see that another piece has fallen into place and you start to wonder what’s going on. Then you hear another *bloop* and another and another until all of a sudden all these freakin pieces are just falling into your puzzle so you jump up and say, “Hey, what’s going on!” then you run over to your puzzle and see that a big piece says “nursing” then a huge piece with glitter glue on it that says “MOBILE, ALABAMA” falls down somewhere and a little piece comes in next to you and says “summer session A&P starting next week” then another piece nearby says “sublet in Oakland” then another piece falls and it says “get your old job back” and you’re like “WTF, I guess I should move back to Pittsburgh maybe?” and then immediately, a big puzzle piece that says “Pittsburgh” *bloop*s into place. Then all of a sudden things get out of control and more pieces just start raining down and you just do what they say, moving from piece to piece as opportunities present themselves. Sometimes a few pieces come down at the same time and you get to pick between them. And as time goes on, some absolutely monstrous puzzle pieces that say things like “Matt’s an asshole” drop in and those ones knock out some of the other puzzle pieces that said things like “celebrate 3 year anniversary” that you had already tried to put in the puzzle yourself because you thought they fit. After awhile, the rate of puzzle piece raining fluctuates a little and it slows down or gets faster depending on whatever the puzzle piece weather ends up being that day. Sometimes all the *bloops* give you a headache because there are too many and they’re too fast and so the noise is really loud. But when they stop completely, like right after the puzzle piece that says “now wait for your acceptance letter” comes down, you’re tempted to go out and try to find another piece on your own after a decent amount of time has passed without any activity. But for some reason you just don’t. You say to yourself, “I’m just gonna see what happens. Even if I don’t go to Mobile, I’ve accomplished/experienced a lot of things I never saw coming and they were mostly good.” Then out of the blue, there’s a *bloop* and along with it, a puzzle piece that says “phone interview TODAY” and you’re “AHHH WTF! WTF AM I DOING TO DO. I’M NOT PREPARED AT ALL BECAUSE I GAVE UP ON THIS BECAUSE THE PUZZLE PIECES STOPPED,” then the phone rings and the biggest load of little pieces *bloop* down all at once and give you all your interview answers then it starts raining pieces again and you move to Alabama and by your 3rd week of nursing school, you know for the first time ever that your puzzle is finally being put together as it was always meant to be. And it’s pretty effortless, all things considered… even in spite of all the hard work you know you’re going to have to put in before you get to that looming “graduation” piece that’s kind of far away in another part of your puzzle. Lots of studying but at least you’re not in perpetual internal crisis state anymore. And you don’t know what pieces are going to *bloop* in between you and graduation but you know that it doesn’t matter because it’s going to be ok. You know that if you just let the puzzle do it’s thing, then by the end of your life, it WILL actually be finished and just taking a step back and living is way more productive (and definitely easier) than actively struggling to find the pieces.

You don’t know how big your puzzle is going to be so it’s important to take things a day at a time and make relatively short-term decisions a few at a time so you don’t end up wasting all your hours on useless/unenjoyable pursuits. Don’t spend too much misused energy on stressing or trying to control too many things at once. Life just happens. You can either roll with it or freak out about it. It would suck to be at the end of your life and only be able to think to yourself, “Well, I tried to do a lot but never knew what I was really supposed to do and took all the wrong turns so I didn’t end up doing anything at all.”

It’s like a 30 page research paper that’s way too daunting to start. If you try to do it all at once or over a short period of time, you’re going to freak out and procrastinate more. But if you break it down into little bits, you’re actually able to get it done. First you pick a topic. Then chill for a bit. Then do some light reading on the topic. Then chill for a bit. Then start to find relevant resources. Then chill for a bit. And so on and so on until it’s done. Writing that research paper isn’t going to be the most fun thing you’ll ever do and it definitely still feels like work. But if you just do it bit by bit, you’ll be ok. You’ll manage to get it down without popping an aneurysm. At the end, when it’s done, you’ll feel relieved and content and proud of what you’ve done. Just take life as it comes and focus on taking small steps towards the things that you know will allow you to showcase your strengths and improve your weaknesses, while keeping some vague comprehensive idea in your mind about what you want your life to be like and also recognizing what’s consistently important to you and reliably rewarding. You’ll be successful. You’ll be happy.

Incidentally, if there were actually only 7 pieces like I thought when I was 10, my reality/wish-list right now would be:
- nurse
- any tall/strong/polite/outdoorsy guy from Mississippi
- anything with hardwood floors, elegant character, and a big fenced-in yard
- Mazda3
- 3 boys and 1 girl
- rescue puppy from the shelter
- sailing around the world

I blame that MASH game for this.

And the world cannot be discovered by a journey of miles, no matter how long, but only by a spiritual journey, a journey of one inch, very arduous and humbling and joyful, by which we arrive at the ground at our own feet, and learn to be at home.
- Wendell Berry

I’m also IN LOVE with this song right now:
Little Talks by Of Monsters and Men 

Things we had to know everything about for a one hour exam:
- cellular physiology/pathology (middle school easy)
- inflammation
- immunopathology
- neoplasia
- genetic /developmental disorder
- alterations of the nervous system
- fluid disorders
- acid-base balance (A&P easy)
- alterations of the renal system

I got an A again. And was way more prepared for this than the Pharm exam. So I guess I’m getting back into the swing of things. But dammit, I feel like after this is all over, my I’m going to die at 50 years old instead of the predicted 90 years old. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be 90 years old anyway. That’s bananas. I look at Nonnie, who’s 80+, and I have no idea how she acts and looks so young. 24 year old Liz cannot fathom what it will be like to be great-grandmother Liz. I can’t even wrap my brain around what it’s like to be so old that your grandkids have kids. Basically, your kids have grandkids. No matter which way you look at it, that’s pretty mindblowing.

Anyway, there’s another exam tomorrow. And three next week. And projects/papers in between. I seriously keep having to give my body a pep talk. At lunch, it was like “Hey, cells. Here’s some coffee and sugar and a whole wheat bagel. You just gotta survive ’til 4. Go team.”

Now I have to give them another pep talk before we start studying all over again. Can I please get more than three hours of sleep tonight? I feel like I’m in some kind of twisted existential microcosm.

Relevant:

If you want to have a broken heart about life forever, you should watch that movie. If you don’t, stay far far away.

Probably the only thing that’s going to get us through this year is humor which is why I’m in love with all the boys who sit behind me.

Real utterances from two of them after our professor passed around fun size M&Ms…

- She’s trying to give us diabetes.
- Where’s the oxycontin?

Oh, nursing school. Where your professor is still the devil even when she gives you candy. And when you’d much rather have opiates to take away the pain.

I got cream cheese in my hair today. The direct cause was exhaustion.

Plus, my abs hurt like a bitch. And until I sat down at my desk when I got home, I had no idea why. Basically, as soon as my rolling chair rolled off to the side (due to a slight slope in my old hardwood floors) and I used my legs/knees/feet to subconsciously readjust, my abs burned like none other. Mystery solved. It’s a pilates-type movement. I was doing pilates in front of my desk for hours yesterday. I’m not trying to become a titanium muscle monster here because I’m a girl and I love love love being a girl and having awesome curves. People say you can do pilates religiously and still maintain your feminine figure. I’m not so sure. Have you seen Madonna? Isn’t pilates what she does? Pilates and yoga, I think. If there’s a risk that I end up looking like her after doing a lot of pilates and yoga, I’m just gonna stick to my casual runs of a few miles a day and partake in no other form of muscle-strengthening exercise.

Even the running alone already kinda makes it an issue. The last guy I made out with was like, “You’re crushing me with your thighs.” And that’s when I decided that A) we were never going to hang out again and B) I can only date guys who are at least 6’0″ and used to be swimmers, soccer players, or football players. Preferably soccer players. Their lean abs of steel make me melt. Swimmers have lean abs of steel but their triangle bodies kinda weird me out sometimes.

Ok, done blithering. Almost. All I want for dinner is shakshuka but I’m all out of eggs. I kind of want a man slave. Because then I could be like “Man slave, fetch me some eggs,” and he’d be like “As you wish.” Why can’t my dream world be a reality?