AUGUST 19, 2008

---- The subject line is from Tori Amos' "Miracle", a bonus track from American Doll Posse. ----




A bit has been happening as of late. Let's see where I left off and where I am going.

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The last journal entry I wrote right after my birthday. I told myself that I was going to write about the events that took place on my birthday -- and I still want to -- but I haven't organized it enough in my head to write something about it that non-participants could follow. It'll come, though. Soon. Hopefully. It was, without a doubt, the best birthday I've ever had. For many reasons, but, again, that will come in the birthday blog. Soon. Hopefully.

The one "fun" (the quotes will be explained as you read...) trip that I had planned this summer was going to Maine with my Grandmom, my Uncle Jay, my cousin, Brandon and my Mom. The trip took place between August 9 till the 16th.

It was horrible.

First of all, I haven't spent an extended period of time (longer than two days) with my Grandmom in a long while and I forgot about all of her wonderful personality traits -- criticism, nagging, fear of losing control, repression on herself and those around her -- and I have never spent an extended period of time with my Uncle Jay and I came to find out on this trip that he is a lot like my Grandmom. Brandon, my 20-year-old cousin, is also a unique story. I think the abuse that he suffered from my Aunt Kimmie and Jay really fucked with his head and now he seems unable to function like a young adult. He has these moments of regression where he will smack the dog and squeal like a chipmunk, then laugh uncontrollably, or, in a moment of quiet, smack the table and scream for no reason. It's a little unsettling and very irritating, but I can't blame him. How do you deal with having insane, abusive parents? Clearly, that was his survival mechanism as he matured and he never grew out of it.

These were the people I spent my vacation with. My Mom never seemed so great as when coupled with that Motley Crew.

The vacation started off on Saturday morning when I was told that my luggage was too large to fit in the van and that I had to repack in ten minutes. Um, okay...? I had packed for 8 days, summer and winter (because it's never just warm or cool in Maine -- it's always both. One day while we were there the temperature didn't get above 65; another, it went up to 85) and we had no washer or dryer. My Grandmom then tosses an overnight bag at me and tells me that's all she's got. So I packed four outfits for over a week. I ran out of clothes by Tuesday. Fun.

The time in Maine was a nightmare. We stayed in a cabin in the woods, overlooking the harbor. Beautiful, yes, but it's not practical, because it's necessary to drive everywhere in Maine. And, guess what, Jay didn't want to drive anywhere. Stuck in this cabin with no TV, no computer (remember: my laptop couldn't fit in the van) and no cell phone reception, all I had were books. After reading for two days straight I couldn't even make out the words on the page anymore. By Thursday, I was going out of my mind with boredom. The only non-cabin activity we did was eat out -- so basically I did nothing on this vacation but get fat, grumpy and miserable. I can get fat at home and be upbeat and excited about it.

Combine this prison cell of a cabin with my Grandmom and Jay's unyielding complaining and bitching and you have one fantastic week of wasted vacation days. I think that's one of the things that pisses me off the most about the entire disaster: I wasted 5 fucking vacation days on that waste of time off from work. I'd rather had slept in my bed at home for a week than gone on that trip! Grandmom and Jay complained about anything and everything -- that's all they do is bitch, bitch, bitch. SHUT UP!! Nothing is good, everything is an issue and to be whined about. Next time someone tells me I whine too much I am trapping them in a cabin in Maine with those rays of sunshine for a week. NOTHING my Mom, Brandon or I did was right: we sleep too much, our showers are too long, we don't eat enough, we eat too much, I was too quiet, I was too loud, I wasn't active enough for them, I spend too much money, I waste water and food, my Mom smokes too much, she's too thin, I'm too fat...blah, blah, blah, blah. Shut the fuck up.

There's several long and miserable stories of tragedies inflicted upon me on that trip, but I'm not going to write them all -- it will get redundant and make me more irritated. Suffice to say never again will I vacation with those people.

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Aside from that horrible episode the summer has been fairly smooth. Thankfully, it's had it's share of party nights out with the Hags and I'm enjoying that part of life.

What is distressing me is that I'm having a mid-twenties crisis. I don't really know who to talk to. Normally, it would be Sharon, but I don't even really know where to begin that telephone conversation.

"Hi, Sharon. It's Michael! What's up? I don't know what direction I'm taking my life. Have a few minutes?"

I was hoping that I would just spill it out in a blog and then one day I'd check my MySpace page and some enlightened person would have all the answers in a helpful comment.

Ha!

If nothing else it'll help me organize my thoughts.

Lately, I've been thinking about where I'm heading. I'm an English major who works as a teller manager at a bank. I'm working towards a Masters degree in Publishing.

I'm already confused.

The bank job just sort of happened. I needed a job to earn money. The opportunity arose. I jumped on it. I started as a part time teller, like I said just to have money, not thinking anything about it.

And then, somewhere along the way, I started to like the people I worked with, like genuinely care about them. For example, while on vacation, I wanted to call the bank and talk to Chris and Jeff and Jessica and Donna and see what was going on. Then, somewhere along the way, I started to like the job. And it's not even so much that I like the job, but the job is made wonderful by the people. I don't wake up in the morning dreading work. It's something I have to do and that's okay, because, most of the time, I like it.

Eventually, I went from part-time to full-time. And then I became back-up head teller. Finally, I learned how to do almost everything and now it's second nature. This all happened within a year's time.

What's the problem you ask? This isn't my field. I didn't go to school to be a banker, but I would actually be okay if that's how life turned out. Not necessarily in the position that I have now, but working the banking arena wouldn't be a negative for me. What then happens to my English/Publishing degrees?

I keep questioning if I should continue with the publishing degree or if I should maybe look into some kind of finance degree. Then again, if I switched up every time something caught my fancy, I'd never get anywhere. And I haven't dedicated almost six years of my life -- not to mention the cost of tuition -- to my field of study to pick another one.

Granted, I don't have my degree in publishing yet and the job at Beneficial is still a job to rely on while in school.

It gets complicated here: why not hunt for a publishing relating job while working at the bank?

The study abroad internship.

Beneficial will hold my position at the bank if I decide to study abroad for three months. If I went out and landed a publishing related job somewhere in Philadelphia and then was accepted into a study abroad internship I would come home to no job and, thus, no means of income.

It's also a matter of salary. For the job that I perform everyday, and my attitude as I perform my responsibilities and my willingness to bend my schedule to help out at the branch, I get paid pennies. In July I was given an amazing promotion that doesn't happen very often in Beneficial branches -- I was upped three notches -- and I still would *barely* be able to get by on what my annual salary is if I lived on my own. I am certain I could get hired at a small to medium sized publishing firm starting at about $10,000 more than I make now. Finding a job like that would take months, don't get me wrong, but it would probably happen. And, again, I'm willing to accept the lesser salary at the bank for the pleasure of having a work environment where I genuinely like the company of every person I work with. I've worked in places where I've hated my co-workers and, no matter what the salary is, you can't put a price on arriving at work knowing you will have a good day because you enjoy the people you're working with. Don't misunderstand me: my job at Beneficial is NOT easy (I don't care what anyone says. You do this shit day in and day out and then you can preach to me about how much more difficult your job is), but it has it's moments of cool.

We've come full circle here: it's between settling for what I have at the bank or looking for a publishing job, but then the study abroad issue comes into play and the fact that I've established a relationship and a respectable position where I am makes me hesitant to go anywhere.

Am I using this study abroad thing as an excuse to not branch out from Beneficial?

I go back to school the second week of September and, until then, I'm sending out mass e-mails concerning study abroad internships. I really feel like my resume would be boosted and stand out among others with an internship at a publishing company in another country planted on it. I'm not ready to give up on this just yet. Maybe I should. Life seems to be indicating that it's not happening.

School is also somewhat of an issue. Not what I am studying in school, just school itself. I was thinking about taking off the fall semester to figure out what exactly it is I want to do. Then, another thought: that's the worst thing I could do. I'd rather be actively working towards something, if only meagerly, than not working towards anything at all. I am going to try to take only one class in the fall, that will give me enough time to sort my head out, do the work related for school and then still have enough left over to deal with work. I don't even know if that's possible, though, because it's a financial aid issue; I need to take a certain amount of credits to receive government funding and one class doesn't cut it.

I don't know. Maybe I'll just join the Peace Corps and spend two years building houses in Guatemala. No, really, I've given this serious thought. I haven't ruled it out.

For all the work I've put in I still don't feel like my life has a clear direction.

Am I too young to be worrying about this? Should I care more about this in two or three years? When is it too late? Is it ever too late?

I'm not misdirected; I'm hard-working, organized, motivated, educated and focused.

I always feel like there is something I've missed and if I could only figure out what that tiny, small piece of the puzzle is I'd be on my way.

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Aside from that mental trap, I'm decent. Nothing is really wrong and I am not going to complain about anything in my life. I'm going with the flow, even if I don't always know where the current is taking me.

It's like I said at the beginning: let's see where I left off and where I am going.