Embracing What Is

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all! 
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows, 
who violently sweep your house 
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.

He may be cleaning you out
For some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from the beyond.

~Rumi

I've always liked that Rumi poem; I thinkt he ability to embrace any emotion you feel at any given moment is an important feat and takes strength and courage. It's certainly not always easy.

This really hits home with me right now because I'm at a lower point than I recall having been in quite some time--if not ever. I don't like to admit it, but I have a lot of negative emotion floating around in my heard and mind right now and am fighting to keep the positive afloat. The majority of these feelings, I think, are coming from my transition back to life in the states and the daunting uncertainty of what kind of career I'd like to make for myself. Admittedly, I feel a bit lost.

Nothing like a little Rumi to add some perspective during a rough patch.

On Being True at 30

When I started this Portland blog, I had originally titled it "On Being True at Thirty." It seemed appropriate, given that this was the year I entered the fourth decade in my life and underwent a lot of change and transition into a supposedly more settled life in one place. I thought to myself "This is the year that marks my transition into the rest of my life" and other silly thoughts like that.

I quickly opted to change the title--and that mindset--because what I continually (and thankfully) realize is that life constantly throws you curve balls.

I'm usually pretty good about not feeling societal pressure to adapt my life to social norms put in place about where I should be, or what I should be doing at a certain time in my life. But, it's so prevalent, it's hard not to succumb every now and then! Luckily, I usually catch myself in time before really giving in.

In my early 20s, I thought I had found my career path. Gerontology. Who, at age 19, falls in love with working with older adults and spends six years of higher education investing her time, money and energy on the field of gerontology?! This girl did. And, coming back to Portland after spending five years doing mostly non-gerontology things, I thought I could just walk right back into the land of elders.

I searched high and low for jobs that might help me finagle my way back into the field. None of them really ever excited me that much, but I was prepared to work a so-so job just to get my foot in the door. A stepping stone of sorts. I had no idea what I actually wanted to do, but I assumed this was the right thing to do. The first job that came along was one that I enthusiastically took (who knew when the next offer might come along, after all). I thought I could do it.

Turns out, I was wrong.

Turns out, I need to be doing something that offers me some inspiration during my day. Something that fills my soul up a little and makes me feel like I did something valuable with those eight hours. Turns out, being a Staffing Coordinator is not that. And, although older adults and gerontology will always have a special place in my heart (and undoubtedly fill my soul and inspire me), I am having a hard time finding exactly where I fit in to the field and wonder whether I should be pursuing something closer related to what I've been doing the past few years with my life.

Anyways. 

All of this aside, age 30 has been one hell of a ride for me:

I said goodbye to South Korea after three years of calling it home. I left with countless memories of epic adventures and a heart full of fondness for some of the best friends I've ever had.

I traveled to seven countries with a boyfriend who I thought might someday turn into a life partner... And didn't.

I traveled to seven countries and got to spend my 30th birthday at 13,550 feet (4,130 meters) at the Annapurna Base Camp right in the middle of a 20-day trek through the Himalayas of Nepal (after reaching a high of nearly 18,000 feet), spent a night sleeping under the stars in the Indian desert only miles away from the Pakistan border, saw a wild tiger in the jungles of central India, kayaked down the muddy brown Ou River in Laos, indulged in fresh mangoes right off the tree in magical Angkor Wat, and ate bowls and bowls of noodles to my heart's content in Vietnam. Those are just a few of the highlights--I haven't even gotten to the adventures of plucking leeches off my feet, or being so sick that I missed a chance to visit the Taj Mahal.

I moved back to Oregon, a place I hold near and dear to my heart, but in which I've lived for only one year out of the past eight. I watched my brother get married to an amazing woman and spent time with my best friends' children after missing the first years of their lives.

I moved up to Portland from Eugene, a place I've always thought I could someday call home. I was lucky and found a great house to live in for my first two months and have maintained a friendship with the two women with whom I lived. I have experienced countless moments of content and awe and inspiration while living here, many of which occur while admiring the cityscape, walking down a neighborhood sidewalk observing people going about their daily lives, enjoying local nature, or admiring the quirkiness of Portland. I have maintained a great social life--having friends from multiple phases of my life and constantly making new ones. My soccer team and the classes I take at the gym give me necessary exercise and provide some entertainment on the side.

So why, then, have I hit a wall? Why, despite knowing that my decision to resign from my job was right and despite having so many wonderful people in my life, do I feel stuck and that my life is lacking purpose?

I don't like to admit it, because I'm one stubborn son-of-a-b****, but here are a few ideas (based on this article):

1. My 'honeymoon phase' of being back home is coming to a close. I came back when the weather was perfect and my brother was getting married. I enjoyed re-discovering Oregon and fantasized about all the amazing things I will get to do in future years now that I'm settled here.

2. I feel anything but settled--in my work, in my home, or in my life in general. I left the potential of getting my professional life settled after realizing that I couldn't be settled in a job like that, not even for another month. Finding a home in which to settle proves itself to be more difficult (and expensive) than expected here in Portland and not being able to create a space to call home is wearing on me. Socially, I am fortunate and have more than enough people to be with should I start to feel lonely; however, having only been here a few months, none of those relationships are of the nature that I had while abroad (i.e., degree of closeness--emotional and physical proximity).

3. Delayed manifestation of my feelings of loss and stress related to my transition from abroad was something I (naively) didn't expect. Though I never have to be alone here if I don't want to be, I've often felt lonely. Ironically, that's the complete opposite of my sentiments about independently traveling the world, where I often was alone, but never felt lonely. Once my 'honeymoon phase' wore off and I started the settling-in process here in Portland, I did start to mourn for my previous life and a number of times have had fleeting thoughts of going back.

4. I think I've forgotten how to date in the 'real world'. It's been so long since I've lived in a place that I plan to call home for the foreseeable future that, suddenly, my notion of dating as a long-distance and short-lived stage of life that happens in a smaller social network and where people just end up with the best person in that network because there are no other options, no longer makes sense and I don't know what to do with it. I have joined the ranks of online dating because I don't know how else to start. I have nothing but desire to find a life-long partner, but admittedly, starting that process at age 30 is a bit daunting.

5. I am, without a doubt, currently in this phase of feeling overwhelmed. I am tired. Tired of feeling in limbo, tired of not being settled, tired of the unknown. Every day I am doing my best to make the most of the day and remind myself of all the beauty and positives in my life. Most days, it's not too difficult and I smile and laugh to myself (literally!) that in some months, or a year from now, I will look back at these moments in my life and be proud for trudging through them to greater things. Some days are harder than others.

6. Who I was before going abroad, and who I am now, is in some ways two different people. At the root of me is the same person. But, who can argue against the notion that experiences shape us and who we are? When I think back to the endless number of experiences I've had in the past years--exhilarating, frustrating, empowering, thought-provoking, saddening, frightening, freeing--I am amazed with myself and what I've underwent and overcome. Taking your old self to a new place, and then bringing your new self to an old place is a strange and inexplicable phenomenon.

7. I've now been stateside for 5.5 months; I've been in Portland for just over three. Like most of us, I am my own worst enemy and am harder on myself than I could ever be on anyone else. Yes, I am struggling with the fact that I don't have my life sorted by now because I feel like it should be. Feelings of discouragement, fear and grief have certainly reared their ugly heads at me from time to time in the past few months and at times, are a force to be reckoned with. However, the beauty of all of this is that travel and my life abroad has made me resilient and given me the tools to deal with these feelings and the optimism to stop, take a moment, and realize (and know) that it's all going to be okay.

8. To a certain degree, I have been in a state of acceptance since I first stepped foot back on American soil. I wasn't entirely naive about what this transition might look and feel like. I knew it wouldn't be easy and I knew I would long for the life I had abroad, just as I longed for my life in Oregon while I was abroad. I think for me, the need for acceptance in my life comes with accepting the fact that I am in a state of transition and limbo, and that I don't know exactly what I want to do professionally anymore. After experiencing so much and having my eyes opened wide to a world that I never could have imagined on my own, how can I expect myself to fall right back into the path that I momentarily stepped away from before going abroad? 

9. It's difficult to integrate that "exotic" life I had abroad with the familiar life of being back home. Family and friends back home, no matter how curious and supportive they may be, can't fully understand where you are or where you've come from, just as I cannot fully understand the life or a home-owner, spouse, or parent. How to combine these lives enough to create a flow seems a difficult task; I suppose that's why this is listed as one of the last 'phases' from the article.

10. It will be nice to one day look around me and breathe a deep sigh of "aaahhhh, home." Though I dream of having that 'home' some day, I also hope to never let go of my desire to leave my comfort zone and continue to explore and experience the beautiful world around me. I might be going through a difficult time right now, but I wouldn't trade a second of the last five years of my life for a 'home' right now. 

The 10-10-10 Rule

This is why I call my parents in a time of distress:

I've been trying to get some temp work here, but it's been hard because if you're not available to answer the phone the second someone calls, the job is lost to the next eager worker. Finally, this afternoon, I was able to answer the phone and agreed to do a four-day job stretching from Friday to Monday.

And yes, after a few weeks of terrible weather (including a five-day stretch of rain that killed thousands of swallows), Friday to Sunday were supposed to bring nothing but sunshine and 70 degree weather. More than likely, this would have been the final weekend--or any day, really--of nice weather until next May. BUT, I was willing to sacrifice that for a few days of work and an extra $300 or so in cash.

That $300 in cash was particularly tempting because I'm looking at a house tonight that, if I like it, I would likely have to pay rent on for two weeks while simultaneously paying rent in my current house. That temp money would have taken care of that and made me feel better about the whole situation.

But...

Not fifteen minutes after I agreed to this job, I get a phone call asking me back for a second interview for a "real" job that I'd actually like to have and that would be permanent (and in my field!). Naturally, I had to say yes and henceforth call the temp agency and tell this lovely girl who's been trying to help me get work that I have to bail on the job. I feel bad and really could have used the money, but if this means I'm one step closer to getting a real job, then I'll make that sacrifice.

So what do I do the second all of this happens? I call mom, who informed me about the 10-10-10 Rule. Will it matter in ten minutes? Ten days? Ten years?

So, I asked myself "Will this $300 matter in ten minutes, ten days, or ten years?" Luckily for me, the answer is no.

Still counting myself lucky on a daily basis...

If My Life Were A Puzzle...

You know how when you start putting together a puzzle and you sort out all the end pieces, find the four corner pieces and slowly, bit by bit, start finding a match here, a match there... After a little time and effort you get all the edge pieces in place, but on the inside you just have little clumps of the puzzle put together and still a lot of solitary pieces floating around by themselves?

That's how my life feels right now. My edges are in place--by age 30 I know pretty well who I am, what I like, what gives me meaning in my life and all that existential stuff. I've got bits of my life sorted (i.e., the clumps of the puzzle that are in place)--I am living in the city where I want to live, I have some great friends here and in Eugene, I have my family nearby for the first time in seven years, I have my education and know the field in which I want to dedicate my professional life, I have a little bit of savings, a car and a cat... Yet, there are still so many of those little pieces floating around for which I have yet to find a matching piece (or four)...

I don't have a long-term residence in this beautiful city where I want to live I don't have a job in the field that I want to dedicate my professional life to. I don't even know what my dream job in that field is! I'm still learning the ropes of living in Portland and how I can best thrive here...

But, slowly, I am trying my hardest right now to get those pieces of the puzzle put together. I'm smack in the middle of it all--on the verge of a new house, on the verge of a new job, starting a new phase of my life...

Yup. If my life were a puzzle, it'd be anywhere but finished. Then again, I'm not sure I'd ever want it to be completely finished because what's the fun in that? No more room for change, or growth... I guess I'll see what I can do to make sure that last piece doesn't fall into place until my death. Then I'll know it was a good life.

Jacket Extraveganza

Though we had a brief break from the rain, it's officially come back more powerful than ever. I'm still on a high from the novelty of my move to Portland, so it's kind of exciting. I wonder how long that will last...

I went to REI the other day to check out the rain jackets. It's time to purchase a new one now that I'll be spending my winters ducking for cover from the rain rather than hiding my body under layer after layer to stay warm in the miserable cold. They had an ample supply of your standard jackets in every major brand. I tried on about four different jackets and decided I would come back in a few days after thinking about whether or not to make that purchase (I had $75 of dividend to spend so most of the jacket would be paid for anyway).

So upon my return to the store, turns out the rain had driven people in droves into REI--also to buy rain jackets. There were almost no size mediums. I got lucky and an employee found me one downstairs, but I've officially learned my lesson: If you need a new rain jacket in Portland, buy it by mid-September!

Cabbage Nostalgia

Apparently I'm missing Korea right now because I just made kimchi fried rice for lunch. And it's DE-licious. I guess I'm hungry after spending a few hours getting myself sore at the climbing gym... Kimchi Power!

Chased by Rain(bows)

I'M NOT READY!

It's still early, so chances are this dreaded Pacific Northwest rain isn't here to stay just yet... But WOW what a reunion between me and that dreaded force!

It got me good twice on my drive to Eugene a few days ago--to the point where you can't see no matter how fast your wipers are going, you have a death-grip on the steering wheel and the freeway has turned into a lake and you know that at any given moment, you might hydroplane. But the coolest thing about this drive? At one point when the sun was peeking out momentarily behind me (but the rain kept falling), I was being chased by a rainbow! No joke! In my rear-view mirror I could see a rainbow following me on the highway behind my car. Cooool.

Today, the rain and I met again face-to-face, as I risked walking the one mile to my local branch of the library. Luckily, I grabbed a rain jacket at the last minute just in case. I have to say, though, it feels good to be back in the rainy PNW. Despite not wanting the sunny blue skies to be over, being gone from here for so long I am actually kind of embracing this rain...

Maybe it can just wait a little longer, though... ?

Squirrel!

There is a squirrel (hopefully not a rat) eating the inside of the walls of my room. Let's hope he or she is not a night owl...

On the other hand, this is closer to a squirrel than I ever got in my 3.5 years in Asia!

New Connections

Job or no job, I feel so lucky in this world and know that moving up to Portland was the right thing to do (no matter how much money I lose in paying rent without an income). I mean, who doesn't love unexpected run-ins with the FBI, or living a block away from the "bike highway" that I swear has more rush-hour traffic of the two-wheel variety than it does of its four-wheeled friends? Or, how about the fact that I am two blocks, four blocks, six blocks and eight blocks away from a variety of restaurants, cafes, bars, brewpubs, wineries, grocery stores and a public library--all in different directions, and ALL within walking distance.

I have an amazing network of friends up here, who come from college, grad school, traveling in Mexico and Korea--and that network is only expanding. Every time I'm out wandering about, with or without a purpose, I can't help but smile and just feel content. One week into my new life here in Portland, and I couldn't have conjured up a better concoction of life if I wanted!

In addition to an expanding social network, I'm trying hard to develop a professional network by going to volunteer expos and networking events, and taking people up on their offers to meet up--you never know what might happen! Today, I had lunch with a lovely woman who's the friend of a grad school professor, and who is considering a move out here after retirement. Her daughter has been here since 2005 and works for Nike opening stores for them around the country. If not in gerontology, an in with Nike would be quite the Plan B, I think! To be quite frank, I've always wanted to incorporate my gerontology background with them by getting them to start an adult day center or senior center for Nike employees' aging parents. How cool would that be? "What do you do?" "Oh, I run a senior center for the aging parents of Nike employees, who otherwise would be stuck in an assisted living facility or nursing home." Cooooool.

And, this morning I had coffee with the president of a nationally prominent nonprofit organization working with youth and he was kinder than I ever could have hoped for. He brought such a positive energy to our meeting and it's easy to see why he's at the top for the Oregon and SW Washington chapter. He provided a lot of insight about various organizations in Portland and different networking ideas. As appreciative as I am  to hear insights like that from a successful professional, perhaps what will make the biggest difference in me finding a job is that he told me to email him every time I apply for a new job and he'll see who he knows at that organization, and if he doesn't know an employee or the executive director, he'll check their board, and if he doesn't know a board member, he'll find someone who knows someone there. BAM!

This is a man who, if and when I ever find myself in a situation where I can give back to him, I most certainly will. Thank you world, for bringing him into my life!

You know, even if nothing comes out of a connection with the two people I met with today, it's a step in the right direction, gets me just a little more connected, helps me learn a little more about Portland and gives me new ideas about how to find employment. Most of all, however, it gives me a glimpse of hope again just when that hope starts to disappear...

Let the amazingness continue!

Coyote Girl

My dad used to always call me "Coyote Girl" when I was growing up...

Man it feels good to be a Portlander. It's only 2pm and I've already spent several hours outside hiking in the Columbia River Gorge and eating pizza and drinking beer at Double Mountain Brewery in Hood River. The day started out with wet ground and a very slight misty drizzle outside early this morning, leaving me a little skeptical about the day's weather and our hiking adventure... But, before we even got to Hood River the skies had parted and it was nothing but blue skies and sunshine. Beautiful!

We hiked Coyote Wall (appropriate given the childhood nickname!), on the Washington side just past Hood River, Oregon, and it was beautiful! The contrast of the golden grass on the ground the the blue skies was quite a sight, mixed in with all the little lizards and oak trees with their filberts on the ground. The trail winds around the mountainside in a gradual ascent until it comes to a high point, not long before you start the descent--but not before you reach Coyote Wall, a high cliff of basalt columns that would certainly lead to one's death should you somehow make it over the edge. The trail gets decent mountain biker use, and apparently a guy rode off the wall recently to his unfortunate death. Don't mess with sky-high basalt column cliffs!

Nothing tops off a nice early morning hike in the sunshine like a Hop Lava IPA and wood oven pizza... Perfection!

Some Friends Just Aren't Worth It

Since I returned home at the very end of June from several months traveling in Asia, things haven't been quite right with my digestive system. Given the fact that I had a run-in with some kind of parasite or bacteria at the end of my trip while in Vietnam (which was bad enough to prompt a visit to a doctor), I figured my issues were a result of the residual effects of whatever happened then. So, I waited. And didn't get better. And waited. And then my hair started falling out. A lot. Not in clumps, thankfully, but certainly by the handfuls. I will spare you the details of my other symptoms...

After two months of knowing something wasn't quite right and nothing seeming to improve, I decided to see a doctor. Being unemployed and American, health insurance isn't something that I am privileged enough to have, naturally. But, thanks to my friend the internet, I found a doctor in Eugene who approaches her Western medicine practices in alternative ways (i.e., charging only $60 for a full hour-long visit with her).

We came to the conclusion that my symptoms most resembled some type of parasite so we proceeded with some tests, the results of which I just got back today. Turns out she was right--positive for Entamoeba coli the protazoa, not to be confused with E. coli the bacteria. Just another one of those little unwanted creatures that come from "fecal contamination of food or the water supply" (according my my test results. Gross!

Either way, the only way to get rid of this guy is by playing the waiting game, along with some minor changes in my diet, including no wheat, limited dairy, probiotic supplements and some herbal remedies that might help. Blood tests show my white blood cells are doing their job (in other words, their levels are elevated) so now the responsibility is on me and wait it out until my body gets itself back in order.

So, ladies and gentlemen, meet my friend the amoeba (aka protozoa), Mr. Entamoeba coli. We met in Vietnam, and he's been traveling around with me for almost three months. We've developed quite the budding friendship, resulting in intestinal issues and hair loss. However, I think it's time I become a little more selfish and let him know that this friendship really isn't working for me...



Let the gluten- and dairy-free life begin!

Feelin' the Love

Well, Day #3 in this grand city hasn't been without its surprises! I went on a nice leisurely hike in Forest Park with a friend I made in Korea (who happens to be in the same just-returned-from-abroad-and-looking-for-work boat as me, so we had a lot to share with each other right now). He was kind enough to think of me a few days ago when, for his own current part-time job, he was visiting an adult day center. He mentioned me to the woman who ran it and she gave him her card to pass on to me to call her. That, in and of itself, was amazing.

It gets better.

Turns out, this woman is the boss of my graduate school friend, who just happened to call me this evening out of the blue. So, long story short, I'm heading there tomorrow morning to meet my friend and her boss, who, in turn, might be able to help me out on the career front. At the very least, let the networking begin! Oh, and did I mention that this lovely woman has already offered to call the woman who runs the senior center where I really, really, realllllly want a job? Couldn't hurt, right?

Let the Portland adventures continue! I LOVE this city!

A Warm Welcome to Portland--from the FBI?!

Before I get to the good stuff (read: my question-answer session with the FBI), I want to write about how great I felt last night, my first night in my new house in Portland. The whole drive up yesterday, things felt right. Walking to the local grocery store, things felt right. Looking around, breathing in the perfect summer evening air, things felt right.

By golly, I do think I've found myself a home!

Now, on to the juicy details of Day #2 in PDX!

After a GREAT night's sleep in my new bed and a trip to good ol' Trader Joe's for some groceries, I set out on foot to make a big five-mile loop around my new hood. First stop: the public library for a new library card and a few books on local hiking. The next stop was a stroll along Alberta Street, full of restaurants that I can't wait to try (Indian, Ethiopian, sushi). Not long after I started south on Mississippi Avenue a teenage girl wearing an over-sized red t-shirt tucked into her under-sized short denim shorts asked if she could use my phone. I didn't see the harm in that so I handed over my ancient flip-phone (aka the dumb phone).

She made her first call standing right next to me, so I couldn't help but listen to her side of the conversation as she asked this person to come pick her up. She was obviously a little on the distressed side, hair a little messy and black eye make-up smudged. She handed my phone back to me, and then not two seconds later asked if I was in a hurry because she wanted to call a second number. This time it was her boyfriend, which I deduced by her use of the word "babe" (and which she later told me), and she was asking him if he was still going to talk to her--"like, in life."

It was by this point that I was a little worried for her--she was definitely stressed out. My first reaction was to ask her if she was okay, to which she hesitantly replied "Yes. I'm just paranoid." I offered to wait with her and she was happy to say yes to that. She wanted to sit inside somewhere because it was so hot outside, but the closest thing we could find were some tables and chairs just off the sidewalk by a group of food carts. We took a seat and I tried my very introverted-best to make small talk (while trying to dig a little, too): "So, what's your name? How old are you? (Sixteen) Are you in school? (No. I was going to beauty school but I stopped because I have a two-year old daughter. She's mixed.) Are you paranoid about something specific that happened, or is it just a stressful day today?" (Both).

She spent the previous night in a Motel 6 with her boyfriend, but they got in a fight and she went to another friend's place, who dropped her off near a detention center, but then she ended up over where I met her, usually she does herself up "professionally" but this morning she woke up and didn't feel like it so she didn't have her usual make-up on... I couldn't keep her story straight, but what I did see was a teenage girl who was going down a path that could end up badly.

Anyways...

We were chatting when suddenly, out of nowhere, a man and woman in decked-out FBI vests walked right up to her and handcuffed her. Right before they reached her she stood up calmly, turned to me and said "I have to go now." And that was that. The woman took her around the corner and she was gone. The male FBI officer implied he wanted to ask me some questions so I waited until he returned with his notepad. He took my name, number, address, and my short story about what I knew about her from my brief interaction with her. He informed me that she's a runway that they've been looking for for about two days, has a warrant on her and they believe she's involved in Portland's sex-trafficking scene.

Surprisingly, something about all of this was not the least bit shocking. Maybe that's why I stayed with her that whole time and didn't want to leave her--I knew something was off (that, and the life of the unemployed isn't as rushed as the employed so I had nowhere else to be). Needless to say, it was a bittersweet ending: sad to see such a sweet girl involved in potentially harmful endeavors, admittedly glad to see her being taken into the hands of people who maybe--hopefully--help her out of it.

To think, I was this close to going to get my car and drive her home...

"Welcome to Portland!" says the world... I can't wait to see what Day #3 has in store!

Zig-Zagging Through Life

I've been struggling a little lately with a mild case of career-identity-crisis.After spending the first half of my 20s doing it "right" and the second half of my 20s fulfilling the wanderlust in me, I suddenly find myself stagnant at the end of a long zig-zaggy line that is my life.

In the beginning, I followed the (straight and conventional) path any parent would be proud of: I graduated from high school and college with high academic honors, went right into a master's program complete with an assistantship, and then landed myself in a great 'first job' in research that was actually related to my studies.

Then, I had a moment.

It happened not six months into that first job and once it was set in motion, it couldn't be stopped. I needed more. I needed to see the world, experience it through all its sights, sounds and smells. I needed to feel empowered by taking myself out of my comfort zone and tackling whatever came my way, like going into full 100-meter sprint mode to chase after the bus that had all of my worldly possessions on it and nearly left me stranded in the parking lot in Mexico. I needed to exercise my freedom as a young, culture-curious adult and set out without a plan, but with a backpack, to Guatemala and Mexico... Then Korea... And Mongolia... And India... And eventually even more of Asia...

Now, five years and fourteen countries later, at age 30, I find myself back home and ready to start off where I left off. But, there's one problem:

It's been a painstakingly difficult process.

I'm over-qualified for the entry-level jobs and under-qualified for next level. That leaves me somewhere in between screwed and f***ed..

Okay, not really. Something will work out and I know it. But it's really hard to get back into the swing of things after taking the long way around!

Thankfully, there's a place on the map called Portland. Known to many for its good beer and the "cool" place to move these days, I've always wanted to end up here. And well, that day has come and it's time to start a new chapter in my zig-zaggy life; it's time to make a life in Portland.

Put a bird on it!