Unbridled Gifthorses

Happy New Year, Indeed!

I got an early "present" in the form of a last-minute writing assignment to interview an up-and-coming travel guru, originally from Brooklyn, now an expat in London. Talking with Travis gave me some really encouraging insights on taking leaps of faith that have helped confirm my ambitions for this new year. A bonus on this perspective was in the discovery through our chat that we actually share an ancestral homeland! "Guyanese truly does go everywhere, man!"

2018 has already blustered in (snow punning, I know) with all kinds of interesting developments. The most enjoyable so far has been the growing tradition of meeting up with some of my New York City cousins and hanging out and catching up. Chances are, I might have just seen them at the annual Christmas potluck, but every now and then a surprise guest makes an appearance.

This Christmas, I got to dig deep into some old family photos documenting our shared heritage, and even make plans to do more genealogical spelunking that would culminate in some sort of published work. It's all very exciting!

I feel most validated, however, by the sheer joy and unexpected benefits of reconnecting with old friends and relatives that were growing far too distant. And I will take this moment to include all of the family friends- Aunt This and Uncle That- that are, by sheer cultural privilege, also part of my family.

I should back up a bit here. I have a huge extended family. HUGE. My mother is one of nine, my father one of five, his mother the eldest of ten, and her mother the middle of five or six herself! All of the previous generation had at least two kids a-piece, and on, and on! We've got such overlap between the generations, I'm envisioning a family chart that will rival the Targaryens, without the icky incest. I have made jokes about not even attempting to marry anyone Guyanese or Bajan, specifically to avoid unpleasant (READ: unexpected) familial connections. I'm only half-joking.

The point is that there are a lot of us that I call Family, and we honor our second- and third cousins, and are (in)conveniently spread out over three, maybe four continents! So when even a few of us gather together to celebrate, mourn, and, invariably, eat, it is a big deal, especially as many in my generation keeps getting married and having children, and getting quite caught up with life in their respective borders. Iv'e often felt like a bit of an anomaly among my cousins, being in my mid-thirties and not following suit, but as I learn to embrace the unique path that I am on, I relish what I can also add to the legacy of our ancestors' wildest dreams.

Some of us cousins made plans to get together and make the first day of the new year a collaborative process of vision-boarding, kids in tow, carving a small rectangular piece of dreams and affirmations into our hectic and varied lives. It was an oddly calming exercise that really got our creative juices going, amidst the children orbiting on their bikes and scooters.  I learned that we all have similar desires to travel, a genetic trait that has not thinned out, apparently. We also all had a moment of clarity for how we can still be in each other's lives, and be of value and encouragement.

As the time came to a dramatic close (you can't really take your eyes of of that many assortment of tykes for too long!), we collected our cutouts to finish later and briefly explained our mural masterpieces to each other. One cousin expressed her interest in getting into a healthier diet regimen and incorporating more outdoors activity to add variety and fun to her transition. Another cousin vowed to use her post-graduation off-time before starting a new job to volunteer more and learn a new language. Another cousin who has the cutest team of boys very close in age said that this is the year she books an all-inclusive family vacation, her first like this since she became a domestic engineer. There were suggestions for websites to visit with travel information, and promises of accountability support for individual endeavors. Here again, we young women pledged to maintain friendships borne from childhood.

This was the first time in my memory that we had a goal-oriented gathering, and it affirms the promise that as we continue to grow and grow older, we still have it within us the codes to family success, family wealth and healthier relationships with whomever crosses our paths.

By the end of this week, a couple birthdays would have come and gone, job interviews attended, a flight around the world taken. I, myself made an investment into my own skill development with some online courses, while I continue with renewed vigor chasing down writing contracts, and practicing what makes me perfect: my words, my #kitchentherapy, my beadcraft, and my penchant for diving down rabbit-holes in research. fine activities for a winter's week.

March NoMadness: Finding My Purpose Through Women's History Month's Prime Directive

So the winter is finally loosening its grip in New York City, however minutely.
To be completely honest, I can attribute all of these mad ideas and objectives to a certain fateful epic roadtrip in mid-February, and my #shenanigans partner, @MicklaLittlefoot. This is all her fault and for that, I thank you, love!

Having joined the Nomadness Travel Tribe (at least the first hurdle) and purposed in my heart that this is the year for my writing and traveling to take off towards a new career, things are surprisingly taking shape. One of my scariest hang-ups has always been prioritizing my debt and other financial obligations, to the point of feeling paralyzed and shaking in a ball in the corner.

Not this year, dammit!

Wherever I can cut corners, carve new paths and make new opportunities to earn points, $$, favors, connections, accolades, and sponsorships, I'm open and searching!
It is overall a more positive outlook, as I aim to streamline the content and direction of this blog.

My mission still involves singing, teaching flying, and, of course, writing. I yearn to blaze a trail my grandmother embarked upon flying to England from South America in the 60s, then to Louisiana, Toronto, Washington D.C., for her children, but, ultimately to do better for herself, by way of helping others.

As I become more acclimatized to the Twitterverse and Instagram, I begin to understand how this technology is really addictive and full of possibilities for great connections. I am joining the bandwagon/bus ride/#RyanAir #cheapticket, lol! Hit me up people, I will travel for work, will work for travel!

Someone's Gotta Give, Or Negotiating The Economic Theory of Despair

So, here we are in the sixth (almost seventh) day of August. It feels like a Monday, because of the grueling and soul-crunching aspect of my days' activities. At least True Monday was rather low-key and enjoyable by comparison. One can even say it culminated in fruitful accomplishments, composed of balmy breezes, impromptu after-work strolls and friendly visits with unexpected bounties (ahem, MA...).
Perhaps a little too much vine-flavored bounty? A little hangover with my morning court case, please?

Sigh... I left the office at 6:47 pm this evening after being pulled into a 4:30 pm meeting with the senior accountant and the CFO. Reports are needed, collective scrambling for contracts and a sense impending doom surrounding the management of certain properties were all the talk of the day. Needless to say, I have yet another layer of work piled onto my many varied striations of Legal Clerk duties, compressing at an accelerated rate now and promising a very precious gem of a headache, product highly valued yet underpaid.

I am not completely at my wit's end, having recently bandied some ideas and suggestions with my mother and best friend. I am just feeling a little drown-y for lack of a more nuanced term at 11:38 pm. In today's world, it's all about keeping abreast of the news, following this witty post-Black Man commentator, interspliced with news from The Post, Al-Jezeera, The Economist, The Ecologist, The Times, et cetera, ad nauseum, ad inifinitum.... Well my little faithful BlackBerry Curve can only take so much, and so my bank account, for the record. Trying to keep a budget and pay every blasted private/public/sub and unsubsidized school loan is draining what would otherwise look like a sub-lower middle class income. I can't afford an upgrade to keep up with the wave of digital information that so often thrusts itself as the surefire method for me to rise up out of economic poverty with my intellectually rich potential.

I really need a new laptop and a new phone/phone plan. My brain is fried from daily computer work to the point that it is an existential chore when I get home to do anything else on a computer for myself- writing, research, networking, even entertainment.

How do I get out of this funk?!

Enter The Humble Book and its enticing counterpart, the New York Times Book Review Section.

For the archaic Luddites among my readers few, these would be the tangible, weightier, relatively cheaper versions of blog postings and news bites. I don't have to squint and scroll through an endless feed of information. I can focus on one chapter at a time, pore over one book review and their myriad of new words to look up in the dictionary and add to my lexicon. And I still feel connected to modern society, and what's more, excited about learning and pressing forward with my foreign affairs career aspirations!

I say all of this to say that on the way home this afternoon, I felt a little dejected from my ordeal and the pittance I must magically stretch beyond physics to pay my way through life with. I cracked open today's reading choice, Economics for Dummies, and first read a mini article about First World subsidized farmers threatening the livelihoods of Third World subsistence farmers. Not exactly uplifting and encouraging facts. But the excerpt was well written, and helped me to conceptualize the Price Ceiling graph the story was meant to alliterate. Of course, the subject of rent control was also mentioned, thus crystallizing the details of my current line of work against the issues I want to tackle in my dream job.

I got to thinking about a certain letter languishing in my room from a fundraising entity of NYU. Apparently I was caught unawares some random phone call months ago and "pledged" to give $50.00 for their efforts. This is the third letter I received at the end of July with them asking me to remember my pledge and essentially pay another bill. I called their phone number and explained apologetically that I am in no financial position to cough up $50 with my current budget and politely tried to bow out. Not my proudest moment, as a believer in fundraising and community support, but damn these expensive school loans and the fact that my promising career after my triumphant Master's Degree has not translated into burgeoning purses to benefact back to NYU!

I decided, after having read the economics chapter, that I would turn this fundraising to my advantage. Instead of merely writing a letter stating how I can't afford their pricey fundraiser drive. I will include an appeal for a job at any office in NYU that deems my skillsets worthy.

Seeing as how I am educated by NYU, perhaps some hawk-eyed office-person with a sense of humor/duty/insight will come across my resume attached to my response letter and pass it along to the appropriate party for review.

It's so crazy, it just might work!