Yes, it's true, I can check one thing off my life "to do" list (between "go sky diving" and "bake a cake from scratch"): today I learned how to drive a motorcycle. A big one. And I'm told I looked like a pro, thank you very much.
I hope you're all following your dreams, too, even if they don't necesitate that you wear a helmet and leather jacket.
xoxo,
ab
8/1/04 : Summa'time
Well, well, it's been a long time, hasn't it? I hope you have been well.
As for me, I am reveling in the warmth and joy of summer. This is my daily schedule: surf, eat, fun adventure, sleep, repeat. There is something to be said for having employment at the beach, let me tell you. And, to make matters even more enjoyable, I have been subletting a house with 3 very entertaining characters, and there is always fun to be had there. List of summer activites: setting of rockets and illegal fireworks, open ocean swimming, visits to the public library, morrocan food, animated poker night, swing dancing under fireworks by the bay, surfing safaris, trivia and fish n' chips in British pubs, Italian gelato, encountering hidden clubs, crashing random parties, and promises of baseball game tailgating and more.
Life is good.
I've also been playing a lot of gigs, and slowly slowly slowly working on the EP. There are some possible exciting possiblities for it, so keep your fingers crossed and your hands in prayer position for it, if you feel ever so inclined.
Now, go spit some watermelon seeds! It's summer!
6/21/04 : Ode to Dad
I know a man named Arthur Robert Bethancourt, Jr.
His parents dubbed him "Robbie," but now most everyone else calls him "Fr. Rob."
I call him " mi Papito" (my little father) because that's what he is.
I remember growing up and frisbee in the park until dark and green grass smell of "soccoww" practices (because my brother and I couldn't say our "R's") and "bath-o-ramas" when we'd have cleaning competitions and then go out for ice cream as our reward.
I remember we'd cling to his ankles--I on one leg, my brother on the other-- getting dragged accross the floor on early mornings when we didn't want him to go to work and he'd always act so surprised that is was so hard for him to move his feet.
I remember on car trips begging for "wwweeeeal stories" ("REAL" stories--from his childhood) and it was the "R's" that did us in again because he'd make up elaborate tales about giant wheels that fell off of cars or tractors, and we'd squeel in a combination of delight/disdain.
I remember shotting off rockets and singings songs and biking in Spain and lots and lots of wise advice and counsel--intermixed with a lot of laughing.
Today we went shopping at Costco. There was a huge sign that said "Tell Us What You Think!" with paper, pens, and a slot to return comments and complaints. Ours said "We think if everyone had a puppy the world would be a better place. Love, Rob and Annie"
6/19/04: i miss elliot
yesterday it hit me: i really miss elliot smith.
i know this reaction probably seems delayed, since he died months and months ago...it's not that i didn't know what happened to him, it just didn't get to me, really, until yesterday. i heard his music play in a coffee shop's background, and i just got really, really sad... that he'll never make more of those sweet sounds. yet at the same time i was filled with this gratefulness, that he ever made music at all, that i could listen to him over and over, even though he's gone. i guess great music is timeless like that, and you can't help but be thankful for it's existence and mourn it's leaving--like a great song you re-start in the middle just because it's so good, and when it's over you just want to hear it again.
6/7/04 : I DREAM OF EP
Hey there! How are you? Yes, YOU? I hope you are well. Me? Why, I'm great, thanks for asking.
I just got back from a totally productive recording session and had to share my joy with the world. I am beyond excited for this EP. I can't wait for people besides my mom and dad to hear it.
It's been really awesome to expand beyond the borders of acoustic sound and explore some new things, and, honestly, I can't wait until you hear it, friends. Let me just tell you that I'm working with a few different people who are recording/producing different tracks, so the album is taking on an ecclectic life of it's own that I can't predict, which is great. James is all straight lines and BB King; Andy is mohawk and alligator shoes. Does that give you an idea of the type of sound the EP will have? No? Good, it'll keep you on your toes then...
So close I can taste it,
Annie B.
4/14/04 : LISTENING TO (AND YOU SHOULD, TOO)
TEITUR : Poetry and Aeroplanes
THE POSTAL SERVICE : Give Up
RILO KILEY : The Execution of All Things
THE BENS : EP
THIS HOLIDAY LIFE : The Fallout EP
THE BLACK HEART PROCESSION : Two
That is all, good day to you.
4/6/04 : JIGGIDY JIG
Growing up, whenever my family pulled into our driveway after a long trip my mom would say "home again, home again, jiggidy jig." Did anyone else's mom say that? My mom would also say "I'm a dead ballerie." Translation: I'm really tired. I think her sister once said it as a child. Kids make no sense, but it sounds cool. Except that I always thought it was a normal "saying," as in, one that everyone learned growing up. It took me a few college years of werid looks from my friends to realize that thier moms never called themselves dead balleries.
Anyway, I'm back from New York! It was an awesome experience including (in no particular order): a visit to the Met, racing through Chinatown, plenty of subway rides, VIP admittance to the Universal building on Broadway, getting free CD's from the Universal building on Broadway, busking in the streets, a bunch of fun open mics, and an awesome gig at the Sidewalk Cafe in the East Village. Thank you to my new New York friends for making my first little tour such a fun experience. Pictures soon to come.
Well, right now I'm just figuring out where to go with this music thing. Anyone have any ideas?
3/17/04 : MAIDEN VOYAGE
So many new and exciting adventures are afoot!
For one, I got a haircut. Now, this might sound incredibley boring to you crazy consistently-cutting-their-hair folk, but you're talking to the girl who's had the same waist length hair for about 5 years. So yes, I got a chop. It's short, at least for me, and I even got some of those new fangled things they call "bangs" that fall in your eyes, making them totally dissapproved of by parents, and thus INCREDIBLEY rock star worthy.
Speaking of rocking, the CD is coming along beautifully, and I'm very excited for it! I've been so blessed by so many amazing people who have taken an interest in my music, and the outcome of their efforts has blown me away. I can't wait to share it with the woooorld! Exciting things are happening!
Also: I finally got to take out my new board a few weeks ago (thanks Matty!). Here's a snapshot of the fabulous induction of my 9'0 beauty.
photo courtesy of J's foot
And I'm going to New York on Monday! This will be my first "real" trip to the big apple, unless you count junior high when I went with my class and our nazi of a history teacher on a breakneck tour from DC to NY. I vaguely remember climbing of the spiral staircase in the statue of liberty, and all I could think was "It was so much cooler in 'Ghostbusters II' when they made her come alive." Anyway, I'm rearing to give the city some Annie B. love--plasma free, of course.
2/15/04 : BLOODY VALENTINE
Yes, the day of chocolate covered everything and rose scented commercial greeting cards has come and gone, leaving us free to un-love for another 12 months, right?
I say "wrong," my friends, "wrong!" Let's keep on lovin', alright? This will be my pact to you, that by next Valentines Day I will be even more skilled in the art of love, or I'll try, at least.
I must say I had an enjoyable day of the St. Valentine: went surfing in the rain with two fun friends, drank hot cocoa, got taken out to seaside lunch by my mom, took a much needed nap, and woke up from this nap by slamming my fist through my bedside window, shards of the sharp crystal glass falling all around my cushy slumber haven. Random, yes. Verdict: sleep spasm.
Anyway, here's to hoping all of your Valentines Days were just as enjoyable as mine, albeit slightly less bloody.
And, remember, there are all different types of love. See below.
2/3/04 : FIRST RAIN
Here in San Diego we really don't have seasons. Not like I mind all that much: leaves changing colors are cool and everything, and I'm sure snow can be fun (being sludgy and cold and each flake completely unique and all), but I guess I just like the fact that it's February and I can wear flip-flops and T-shirts on an everyday basis.
However, unexpected weather changes still get me super excited, like I'm 9 again and it's pouring outside my third grade classroom and we get to stay INSIDE and eat lunch and play "heads up 7 up" for an hour. Who's with me?
So last night we had the first REALLY big rain, and I was fortunate enough to be warm and cozy in my apartment with my roommates and friends, playing what we like to call "the naked game," a hilarious type of sherade/word/random party invention which really doesn't involve nudity of any kind. I really enjoyed watching Dave act out "#4 Privot Drive, cupboard under the stairs," and Erin's impersonation of Saved by the Bell's own Jesse Spano.
Three cheers for unexpected showers!
1/6/04 : SEAGULL POSSE/ GHETTO CHRISTMAS
A few weeks ago I was at the beach by my house, checking out the waves before heading in for a surf, and I see this seagull flying right along the beach, parallel to the coast. And right when it flies in front of me the seagull turns its head, looks straight at me, and lifts it's head up once, in this kind of "yo, what up?" nod. I felt like I was initiated into the seagull posse or something.
So the other day I go out surfing with my buddies Adam and Ben, and I'm paddling out after catching a wave, and I see this seagull head straight for Ben's head! He said later he never saw fear in a seagull's eyes until that moment. I guess this seagull was just flying along the waves for a little friday morning enjoyment--who knew some surfer kid would get in his way! So Ben flailed his hands like a maniac and the seagull finally saw him and tried to back paddle in the air with his winds so as not to collide with Ben's noggin.
Seagull Posse, Represent!
New Topic: Is it really terribly ghetto Christmas that my roommates and I bought our tree on December 20th, decorated it on the 31st (with all 400+ pieces of the ornament kit my mom bought us), and still have it up to this day?
The infamous Tree
We didn't have an angel or star so we decorated the kona man. Isn't he PRETTY?
I can’t believe that it’s 2004. It seems like only yesterday I was singing along to Prince and partying like it was 1999 because it WAS 1999. Now we’re already 4 years into the new millenium (or 3 years, if you’re one of those Star Trek geeks who argue that it didn’t really start until 2000 became 2001, whatever, I digress….).
The point is: time is speeding by! And what I really want to know is: Where’s my flying Dolorean? I mean, when Marty McFly went back in time to the future (huh?) to get a peak at his life in 2000-and-something, flying cars were all the rage and zillions of flying highways were already constructed and flying Patrol Officers were already giving out flying traffic tickets. We need to get on it, people! What have we been doing for the past 20 years??
Anyway, aside from the fact that I didn’t get to zip my ‘93 Toyota Tercel through San Diego’s blue skies, 2003 was a pretty sweet year. Here are a list of its highlights:
- Lived with fun Spaniards, got hair cut by a crazy artist with a mullet.
- Played to packed out crowd at Spanish bar
- Biked down pretty Granada mountain. Bike went fast. Broke collarbone.
- Learned what a typical Spanish family thinks about Bush. Taken to hospital by said family.
- Rode on a moto.
- Saw St. Peter's and St. Paul's
- Ate scones and jam in London
- Busked on the streets of France and Italy
- Discovered “Nutella”
- Sunrises
- Saw snow fall for the first time
- Executed first ever cutback off the lip--with long board
- Adventures of living with boys
- Sunsets - Lived 10 steps from the beach
- Jon Foreman from Switchfoot pops up at a show, likes my stuff
- Benefit Concerts: San Diego and Visalia
- Real Christmas Tree
2003 was a great year and I can’t wait for 2004. I’ve got new songs, new plans, new resolutions, NEW! NEW! NEW! Wow, sorry, I got into car salesman mode there…
I’m trying to plan a trip/ mini-tour to New York in the early Spring, and hope to finish a second CD by end of summer. I feel like things are happening and moving, and I’m just so stoked to be making music. Thank you to everyone who supports what I do! May the new year bring you happiness, peace, and (fingers crossed), a flying Dolorean.
Annie B.
12/15/2003 : I AM RULER OF THIS GEEKDOM.
In the 7 day time span of this next week, I will join with my equally geeky friends to:
a) Watch the finale of Survivor in a fabulous man-made living room movie theatre, thanks to the wonders of a projector and a giant white bed sheet
b) Attend the first midnight screening of the “Lord of the Rings: Return of the King”
c) Go to Disneyland
Yes, it’s true, I reign supreme in this geekdom.
But wait! I’m also going to participate in TWO, count them, TWO benefit concerts (Dec. 18th for the “After-the-Fire” Fund and Dec. 21st for the Visalia Rescue Mission), so I can’t be all that bad….Right?
Excuse me, I must go try on my elf ears and hobbit feet and prepare to rock for charity’s sake.
11/18/2003 : XOXO
Surf eat sleep surf eat sleep surf eat sleep surf surf surf surf.
xoxo,
annie
11/14/2003 : PLAYING DRESS UG
I hope Halloween this year was as delightful for all of you as it was for me. Costumes + Candy + Crazy Friends=A Ghoulishly Good Time! I must say I had a slightly obscure costume that 75% of onlookers found highly amusing and worthy, while the other “uneducated” minority (insert snobbish sniff here) found utterly confusing and/or repulsive. Which one are you? A little test, shall we?
The “Guess Annie‘s Costume Game“ Clues:
1. I wore my hair in braids, pinned overlapping on my head
2. I carried a stuffed monkey
3. I wore a Mexican peasant’s blouse and a bright, gaudy necklace, dangly earrings, and many beaded bracelets
4. I carried a painter’s wheel and a paint brush
And, finally...
(Now here’s the kicker, folks, the “do or die” clue, the one that will separate the “playahs” from just the run o‘ the mill players.)
5. I painted on a fat, black UNIBROW.
DING DING DING! Do you have it? Oh, you pop culture genius, you! Yes, for Halloween, I was, in fact, Frida Kahlo: the famous Mexican painter and wife of other famous Mexican painter, Diego Rivera. (Still lost? Go talk to Salma Hayek-- she just played Frida in the same-named movie that came out earlier this year. )
I must say I was pretty proud of my costume which cost, I might add, absolutely NO money, as I had all the items already in my possession. A little frightening? Maybe.
Anyway, Halloween came and went, and fun was had by all. Just the other day I got my pictures back, and my mom was in town visiting, and I said “want to see what I was for Halloween?” I showed her the snapshots of me in my Frida-esque fabulousness, and after her initial laughter she just sat looking at the picture, occasionally interjecting silence with incredulous chuckles. Those second chuckles didn’t seem to be about the pictures themselves, so I asked her what was funny, and she said “You know, every little girl, and most big ones, wants to dress up like ballerinas, or princesses, or fairies….but not my daughter. She picks a costume that gives her one giant eyebrow.”
So true.
(Ahem. I would like to interrupt this train of thought to tell you that this is the same mom who, indignantly poking fun at a Halloween church carnival where the kids were forced to come as bible characters, dressed my brother up as “Pontius the Pilot” in a bomber jacket, a scarf, and flying goggles. Same Halloween, mind you, that I was a belly dancer….carrying a cabbage patch doll head on a platter, a la “Herodia gets the head of John the Baptist from Kind Herod.” Oh yes people, I kid you not.)
Anyway, maybe that’s what instilled in me a desire to be different come Halloween.
I guess like any girl I feel the standard every day pressure to be good-looking (effortlessly, of course), and any excuse to totally abandon this norm and make myself downright WEIRD is a welcome relief.
That, and it’s more fun. Why would I want to be a fairy princess when I could be some weird painter lady with outrageous facial hair!?
I’d rather play dress “ug” any day!
10/11/03 : SAY ANYTHING
They say relationships are good for musical inspiration, but what about a lack thereof? I think John Mayer put it best when he sang "I’m tired of being alone, so hurry up and get here." Amen, my friend, amen.
As an independent, happy girl with interests and hobbies and a nice pool of cool people to hang out with, you’d think I’d be satisfied, wouldn’t you? Usually I am! Hey, hey, watch me go, I'm a happy girl, everybody knows! (Thanks Martina)…but something about this week has put me in that state that my fellow girls know all too well: the mopey, melancholy, "when is he going to come along?" stage. The stage where you haven’t started doubting the EXISTENCE of "the one," you just wonder why he’s taking his jolly good time. The stage where you’ve become so comfortable and accustomed to your state of singleness that you just wordlessly assume (sigh) that things are going to remain that way until the day you depart from this little place called Earth. The stage where you feel as if you’ve been single FOREVER, and you wonder how, exactly HOW, do people ever get together anyway? Find someone you like who likes you back? Impossible! Yet you’re somehow inextricably left with the feeling, no, the ASSURANCE, that "it" will happen when all the right factors are perfectly aligned, so that burdens you with the exhausting job of analyzing your life, other people’s lives, and everything in the world to try and decipher WHEN those factors will be aligned. Will it be this year? This month? This week tomorrow Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday Saturday? What if I go to a new coffee house and our eyes meet over a frothy cup of non-fat mocha decaff latte and we’re both reading Tragedies by Lorca and it’s just this moment of pure wonderful?
Then you realize that your thinking resides in fantasy, it’s not going to happen like that and anyway you‘re just driving yourself perfectly batty, and you go downstairs and join your roommates watching the Real World/Road Rules Challenge, a creation, which, ridiculous as it is, is still less fictional that your incessant hallucinations of possible romantic connection.
Now, I can put the blame slightly on myself, I admit. I mean, any chick who purposefully chooses to watch "Say Anything" (or any 80’s romantic comedy for that matter) deserves the depressing single martyrdom that she inflicts on herself. 1 and a half hours of cheesy make believe and a girl can spend days, WEEKS, wondering: "Where’s MY Llyod Dobler??!" We rant, we analyze, we doubt God and future and goodness and truth, and we drive ourselves systematically nutty. And slowly, the maniacal demon passes, and some of us find ourselves left with something: a nugget of wisdom, a newfound patience, a renewed hope. As for me, I'm left with a song. So, I guess I should be happy. I love writing new songs, and I love sharing them with you.
And, I guess, when Llyod Dobler finally does come, I’ll write a song about that, too.
9/15/2003 : UPDATE, Y'ALL
NEW TUNES: Hem, The Weakerthans (thanks Bret!), Badly Drawn Boy
FLAVA OF THE WEEK: Queer Eye for the Straight Guy
STOKED ON: Hearing waves crash from my bedroom window at night
RANDOM OBSERVATION: Does the prospect of $1 Chinese Food freak anyone else out, or is it just me?
Again I am struck with the reality that I can’t really “plan” anything, and that these blessings seriously come straight from God’s hands, and that, truthfully, it’s really only when I realize the former that the latter happens. I’m trying to put this into practice with my music, which I have felt stagnated about lately. Sometimes I feel like I’m at a wall, I feel like I have a gift I want to share but I can’t get it out, I try and try and try to find ways to broadcast it, and I’m met by dead-ends and frustration and disillusionment. But, you know what, God has been teaching me that at these times I just need to bless him and he will in turn bless what I do, and, more than that, I feel he’s reminding me that this gift is not mine, it’s his, and that I only get it for a loan. So many awesome things in my life have seemed to come easily, yet the ones that don’t come easily just work to remind me that it is really from God’s hands that all blessings flow-- I can’t plan that or make it happen with my own childish willpower. Also, these times remind me of all the people-friends and family-who support me so generously. Thank you thank you thank you to all the people who support what I do. So many times it really is a kind word or a look on your face that makes me believe again that I really can do what is in my heart, and it means more to me than I can explain.
In other news, I can’t believe that summer is nearly over. I can’t believe that I came back from Spain over 3 months ago! I was looking at my pictures the other night, totally missing Spain, yet kind of in a happy way, not a sad way, just stoked that I had that awesome experience. And I was remembering my apartment, and my crazy roommates, and walking around the city’s cobbled streets, and hanging out in cafes, and it just struck me that life seriously moves by so fast….and it sounds cliché but, really, it’s such a truth of life: it’s passing by, fleeting SO fast we can’t even fathom it or keep track of it until we see a vivid picture or have a totally tangible memory of something that was SO REAL to us but months ago--and now it’s so far away but yet still so real. Does that make sense to anyone? It’s kind of a scary feeling, but a good one too, because it reminds me of how I like to live, what gives me joy, what gives me peace. And even though those times are gone, I’m left with the feeling of life that I can strive to duplicate in other circumstances, if I only keep that as my real goal.
8/14/2003 : GOOGLE GIRL
I often think that to live life day by day is the best method, to savor and enjoy each moment the gift and to not worry about the future the goal...but this, of course, is easier said than done.
CASE IN POINT: In 2 weeks I must vacate my present residence and move into a new one that, as of now, I have not located yet. I must pay rent with a job that, currently, I do not have.
It seems to me that all my talk of free-living and light-as-a-bird lifestyle has been, currently, slightly hindered by my control freak desire to have a plan. For, really, haven’t I always had one? First my "plan" was to get my elementary school homework done before dusk so I could play as many hours of street hockey as possible with my twin best friends from across the street. I planned to squeeze an occasional ice cream from mom and dad along the way, too. Then, in high school, my plan was to do as best I could academically, all the while participating in as many school-related yet "fun" activities as possible, in order that UCSD would realize I was the type of gal they just HAD to accept into their higher learning institution. There, I made my "plan" to be how I could manage to get a degree (and learn a little in the process) while wholeheartedly devoting most of my time to writing songs, sliding down big hills on huge blocks of ice, surfing with my buddies, eating burritos, consuming octopus on Valentine’s Day, and taking picture after picture of good times after good times. Finally, I planned to go to Spain. Which I did. And it was, as they say, "de puta madre," or, in more sensitive laymen’s terms: really, really great. Which leaves me now, here, with the realization that life DOES have so many exciting and wonderful things to offer…if only I can find them. And how do I find them? Is it with a plan? I sure hope not, because for the first time in my life I don’t have one. I could go anywhere. I could do anything. But where will I go?? And what will I do??
It is as if my life has become a search engine. I am "Google Girl." Millions and millions of options available to me…and no idea how to find them. Typing in "plan for life in two weeks" will, undoubtedly, deliver to me options about popular movies ("Two Weeks Notice"), social services ("Planned Parenthood") and diet fads ("Get a New YOU, and a New Life, in Just 3 Weeks!)…..and you know I’m right, those of you who use search engines.
So I guess my plan is set: no plan. Wing it. Play it by here. Fly by the seat of my pants. So many clever phrases for the reality of a confused post-graduate. But, I guess I’ll do the same thing with this plan that I’ve done with all the others in the past.
Squeeze a few ice creams from mom and dad.
6/2/03 : THE FOURTH GRADE
I remember when I was in the fourth grade and we were reading “The Island of the Blue Dolphins” aloud in class. I was the impatient kid who skimmed forward and stumbled upon the part where the main character mourns the death of her beloved pet wolf. I read quickly over the words, my eyes started to water…and, luckily, class ended and I was mercifully saved from grade school “crying in class over a book” humiliation. However, I knew the next day we would read that sad part out loud in class, and I would cry in front of everyone. So I took the book home and read the tragic death scene over and over and over again, to desensitize myself to it--so the words wouldn’t reach me, so I wouldn’t be touched…but it didn’t work. The words were too real to me, too sad--I couldn’t separate myself from it, couldn’t say “it’s just a book.” The words reached me regardless.
I guess that’s a strange way to start to say what I want to say, which is this: I’d always hoped my words, whether written or in song, could touch people like that--make so many ineffable emotions tangible, real, and beautiful. I’ve always wanted to write something that connects to someone’s core, that touches them, is so real to them that they are able to feel, instantly and vividly, the emotions I felt when I wrote those words. I don’t want to MAKE anyone feel strange, foreign emotions. A part of me just wants to know that what is real to me, what dwells in me and connects with me, what makes me laugh, cry, rage, mourn and vent, also lies in other people in way that can be felt, even if it can’t be explained.
I guess I just want to know that other people cried when they read “The Island of the Blue Dolphin” in the fourth grade.
5/25/03 : FIRST JOURNAL ENTRY
Hi!
This is the part of my site that will be filled with rants, raving, and random ramblings. How‘s that for alliteration? Nothing like some good ol’ repeated sounds in succession to get a journal started off right!
For all who don’t know, I recently returned from 6 months in Sevilla, Spain, where I lived with 3 bohemian Spanish art students (one with mullet, one a nude model, one cooked a pig’s head, and all of them crazy and wonderful and fun). I had some amazing experiences in Spain, from *nearing Spanish fluency, to breaking my collarbone on a gnarly action stunt fall in the Granada Hills where I was biking with my Dad, to having gigs in awesome Spanish bars, to meeting people all over the world while seeing parts of this world that only before existed in my imagination. It was amazing. I highly recommend getting out there, even if “there” means a place just miles from where you are now--anything that let’s you see something you’ve never seen, feel emotions you’ve never felt, meet people with opinions different from your own. I can’t explain how much being abroad made me so full of joy with life and the beauty that exists if we only train our eyes to see.
Well, after graduating from college (heck, even BEFORE graduating) I received the “what are you going to do with your life?” question. This was always a little startling for me, a person who seemed destined from birth to veer toward poverty inducing interests and professions. I didn’t know how to answer this. Should I be truthful, say I wanted to be a writer, a singer/songwriter? I thought that I might as well have affixed a humiliating scarlet letter to my forehead, a big “D” for “Dreamer.“ So, instead I’d say vague things like “mmm….I’m thinking of doing music” then followed rapidly by the reparation sentence: “ButIdunnoMaybeI’llBeATeacher…or….mmmmm“
What a dilemma.
I’m glad to say that I am past this uncertainty, this embarrassment for lack of a “solid plan” (a thing that, surely, does not exist as often as we’d like to believe). Now, when someone asks me the age old “what are you doing with your life” question, I answer: “This.” And then people say: “Typing on a computer while listening to ‘the (International) Noise Conspiracy’ on Winamp?” And I reply: “No, silly, THIS.” Maybe that makes them confused. I guess what I mean is, I’m in no hurry to get anywhere. It’s not that I don’t have ambitions and dreams--I do. But I know that these dreams will unfurl naturally, like they’re supposed to, and, what’s more, I don’t want to miss what’s happening now because I’m worried about or focused on what might happen, what might be better…someday…if I only...
Because, after all, “now” is pretty great. If we let it be, that is.