Welcome to New Beginnings

I'm not sure when I got so old.

Not that I am, at least not that much. I'm 23.

23 and my grandmother had been married for years.

23 and my mother was married, too.

23 and I'm an intern in a new big city with a relatively clear idea of where I want to go but a not so clear idea of how I'm exactly supposed to get there. Oh, and I'm not married (hallelujah).

But still, I feel old. Old like I should know more of where I'm going, career-wise, life-wise.

At least I've learned to enjoy the moment more. Those moments where you pause in your own thoughts even though the world keeps spinning full speed around but you realize anyway for those moments, few glorious moments, that you need to just breathe it all in, everything you've gotten thus far: health, love, family, life.

And I suppose all this rambling is to say, briefly, that I'm good.

I'm well.

I'm happy for the most part, if a bit frustrated at times, but that mostly stems from the whole I-think-I-know-where-I-want-to-go-but-life/people/job-not-letting-me-get-what-I-deserve type nerves.

I moved to New York a few weeks back, and I'm living in an apartment in the "hipster ghetto" of Brooklyn—Notorious B.I.G. grew up not far, and hipsters now galore, hence the name. Apartment shared with a friend of a friend. Check out my 'hood:

Spriiiiiing. :)

Notorious!

Kosher eating, but rather skimpy in selection, if I must say so myself.

One of many churches in my hipster ghetto.

It's too complicated for one post to explain why I'm here, but it basically involves a story in which:

1. I fell for a Dutch boy a few months back while I was interning at one of the international criminal tribunals in The Hague. And by fell I mean hard.
2. Said Dutch boy still lives there. (Gah. But kind of normal, obviously.)
3. But I want to live in the U.S. because it's the best move for me life-wise, career-wise, state-of-mind-wise.
4. I know I want to write.
5. I have an offer to study for a master's degree at one of the NYC schools but not sure yet if it's worth the tens of thousands it would cost in the long term—a very hard financial calculation to work out, considering there are certainly more unknowns than knowns.
6. I have no idea what I'm doing with my life.

I say that for dramatic effect. It's only partially true.

That said, welcome to my blog. I hope to keep it updated every once and awhile. Stick around for more random escapades and non-sequiturs from the life of a girl who, after perhaps moving around the world too much, is trying to get her feet back on the ground in the land of sanity.*






*But after these few weeks, I'm starting to have my doubts about why I dubbed the homeland this in the first place while I was abroad. See: contraception debates in 2012, the existence of Rick Santorum as a legitimate GOP candidate, 20+ chemical-sounding ingredients in supermarket bread, The Jersey Shore.