Welcome back.

Welcome back to the story of my life. Since my last post, I have packed my entire Orlando apartment into boxes, packed those boxes and my furniture into a cargo van, said goodbye to everyone I love in Orlando, eaten a last breakfast at my favorite Oviedo breakfast place (The Townhouse), and driven all those belongings as well as my parents home to Plantation. Over the past week, I’ve unpacked all those boxes from Orlando, sorted every possession I’ve ever owned into three categories (1. Take to New Jersey, 2. Keep but don’t take to New Jersey, 3. Throw away/Goodwill), broken two sewing machines, gotten a backache every day helping my mom set up her classroom for the first day of preschool, furnished an apartment via IKEA, bought and shipped a huge, ugly desk to South Orange, tried to keep in touch with my boyfriend who’s in Haiti for the week, and attempted not to lose my mind.  I have been mostly successful, but yesterday and last night, something came over me, and I couldn’t take it anymore.  I’m at home, the home I grew up in, with my family and I’m a little miserable.  I can’t figure out why.

Maybe because leaving Orlando meant leaving behind all that I know and love.  Maybe because sorting through all my silly possessions from the last 20-odd years of my life made me realize that I’m not a child anymore; maybe because, after hearing my boyfriend’s stories about the orphans he’s been working with in Haiti, I feel bad for being upset about anything in this comfortable life I lead.  Maybe because I’m actually terrified of this major change.  Right now it’s easy to pretend that it’s all going to be great.  I can say that I’m studying at Seton Hall without having to move to New Jersey.  I can say that I’m a Master’s student without having to put forth the effort and do the work.  I can make everything I want to happen happen in my head, but I’m starting to wonder (okay, falling back into wondering) if I can make it happen for real.

Yesterday I found out my apartment number for my new place in New Jersey. 15K.  That’s me.  Top floor, one bedroom.  I’m excited and ecstatic.  I’ve been waiting to find this information out forever it seems, but I also realize how lonely it could be.  15K.  Top floor.  One bedroom.

The day before that, I went to school with my mom and helped write out the kids’ names for cubby markers and door decorations.  I love going to school with my mom and playing with the kids in her class. I always have, but I realized as I looked over the list of names that I’ll probably never met this group of kids or the next.  I’ll be living across the country.

The day before that, I spent with my best friend.  We didn’t do much, just sat, talked, and went out for lunch, but we don’t ever have to do much.  It was a fabulous day, but as she walked out the door and we said goodbye, I realized it could be a very long while before we’re able to sit and talk and go out to lunch together, in the same city, in the same state, again.

It could be very lonely, you know. 15K.

When panic meets perfection.

I spent the last few days visiting my soon-to-be home in New Jersey.  The trip was a whirlwind of emotion and certainly opened my eyes to just how sheltered a life I have lived these past several years.  At first arrival, culture shock induced panic attacks, minor but still enough to make me question what I had gotten myself into.  I’m not sure what I had been expecting, but my initial reaction was not one I had anticipated.  Through the panic, however, I was able to understand a few things.

There it is, all of it.

1. New Jersey is nothing like Florida.  From the crazy, crowded, cramped streets to the teeny, tiny towns, New Jersey is a whirlwind of interesting new adventures.  There were times I felt like the world was being folded upon itself while making a turn onto a road that had to be at an 85 degree angle to the one I was on, houses that looked like mansions beside tiny homes built in the 1800′s, and a village with one major street.

2. Housing in New Jersey is nothing like housing in Florida.  My mom had planned to hunt for apartments on Friday and Saturday.  We assumed we’d be able to drive through town, talk to some leasing agents, and see some models.  We were wrong.  We walked all over town, but found ourselves standing on numerous street corners calling number after number from signs in front of clusters of apartments praying that someone would call us back soon.  We saw some apartments shaped like boxes and about the size of the average walk-in closet that were renting for $900 and up.  We also learned that a town founded in the 1600′s means apartments and apartment buildings built 50 years ago are considered new construction.

3. I love everything about my new home.  From the crazy, crowded, cramped streets to the teeny, tiny towns, I am 100% in love with South Orange, NJ.  I can see myself studying at the town’s one and only Starbucks and visiting the little bakery next door for a mid-afternoon snack.  I can see myself shopping at the market enjoying the gorgeous arched wooden shelves and fantastic selection of fresh produce.  I know I will never be able to turn down a veggie burger at the Village Diner or a slice of Pirates’ Pizza.  I see myself spread out on a bench in the middle of the University Green studying for my Comps, visiting my professor’s house for Thanksgiving dinner if I can’t make it back to Florida, and gazing in awe at the beautiful tree in front of President’s Hall decorated for Christmas.

 

 

I know that I have found where I am supposed to be.  I know that I will be happy.  I know that things are working out just as they should.  From the fact that my advisor asserted I am doing the best things I could possibly be doing to achieve my goals and the complete geek-out session I had while visiting Walsh Library on campus to the fact that I know I am a small-town girl at heart, I can aver that life could not be better (unless I could somehow convince my friends, family, and boyfriend to move to New Jersey with me).

Brick Walls

Sometimes things hit me like brick walls.  Some might call me oblivious; others, stupid.  But, case in point, my true emotions sometimes take a while to reveal themselves.  Today was one of those revelation-type days.  I finally received my official student number from Seton Hall, paid my enrollment deposit, and made everything incredibly, 100%, nonrefundably official.  I’m moving to New Jersey.

The more I say it lately, the more my heart starts to beat faster and faster.  Excitement.  Anticipation.  Eagerness.  Also, terror.  I will be on my very, very, very own for the very, very, very first time.  Ever.  I know a total of zero people in the Garden State, and the first half of this sentence pretty much sums up what I do know about that state.  I will be 14 miles from New York City which is exciting, yes, but I am not a city girl, not by any means.  I will also be hundreds to thousands of miles from everyone I hold most dear to me.  Yikes.  Talk about a revelation.

I think I am more excited than anything, and maybe once I make my soon-to-happen trip up there to my future home, I will feel less anxious.  Right now, all I know is that this major life change I’ve been dying for is starting to feel very, and I mean very, major.  I hope I’m ready for it; if not, I guess I’ll have to do my best.

Strangely enough, I have been wanting the chance to be 100% independent for a while now; however, as the biggest opportunity I’ve ever had stares me in the face, I can’t help but cower a little.  My boyfriend tells me often that he thinks I’m an incredibly confident girl.  Sometimes I wonder how he ever formed that impression of me.  I am confident in a sense, confident that life will work out the way it is supposed to in the end, but I am also scared of almost everything all the time.  I am scared to move away, far away.  I am scared to be on my own.  I am scared to be so close to a big city and afraid that I will miss out on a lot of experiences in the two short years I will call South Orange, NJ my home.

People tell me this is silly, that I shouldn’t be afraid of anything, that I always succeed.  I believe them.  I do, but I still have a tiny little voice in the back of my head whispering “What if you can’t handle it?”  I’m trying to ignore him, that little voice, but sometimes (like today) he gets the better of me and I am left wondering.

It probably doesn’t help that I’m still sick and feeling rather miserable today.  All I wanted was to snuggle up with a good book and a cup of tea, but a rather intimidating to-do list had me out and about all day.  Miraculously, I was ridiculously productive today: I went shopping, bought a new pair of jeans and a movie I’ve been dying to watch again ever since my first viewing, went to the bank, got my hair cut, applied for a summer nanny position, and sent in applications to 2 graduate assistantships at Seton Hall.  Holey moley.  Perhaps that’s what set this crazy train of thought rolling, all the moving around I did today.  Maybe it was the 97 degree weather, or maybe it was just me being crazy again.  All I can say is that I hope the incredibly confident Jessica my boyfriend seems to know comes back tomorrow.

On the upside, tomorrow is shaping up to be a pretty fantastic day: a friend of mine from high school whom I haven’t seen in almost 2 years is coming to visit for the night.  She’ll only be here for one night, and I’ll probably be wiped after a day of training, but I am beyond excited to see her!  Nothing like some good old catching up with old friends to restore my confidence and help me feel better.

When you least expect it

Sometimes I am surprised by the timing of events in my life.  Yesterday, around noon, I decided to take some books to Starbucks to keep my boyfriend company while he worked on a report for work.  As I sat down, I clicked the little envelope on my phone and opened my e-mail inbox.  Sitting there, staring at me, in tiny blue letters was this message:

Jessica—

 

I hope you’ve received your acceptance to the program by now.  I hope we will have you with us at Seton Hall this Autumn!

 

All best,

Dr. Weisl

I read it about 4 times before showing it to my boyfriend for confirmation.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“I think I just got into grad school…”

And, indeed, I had.  My whole life changed in that moment.  My future became real, something I could see and hold and read and begin to craft in my mind.  Life has a strange way of coming together when we least expect it.  After several celebratory hugs and about 18 more read-throughs of the e-mail, I called my mom who, after hearing the news, said that she just received the best Mothers’ Day gift she could have asked for.

I’m still waiting for the reality of everything to settle in.  I was just about ready to start formulating and understanding my thoughts about graduation, but now I have so much more to think about.  I will be a graduate student, a graduate student at Seton Hall University in South Orange, New Jersey, in only a few short months.  This is the major life change I was looking for, and strangely enough, this university is the best place I could possibly be.  The faculty is currently working in my area of interest, the school is beautiful, and they want me.  The more I browse the website, the more excited I get and the more I feel that this is 100% the right decision for me.  I feel confident.  I know this is where I need to be and can now appreciate all the rejections in a new light.  Without them, I would not have found this school.  Without them, I would not be where I am right now, feeling absolutely content.

Hooray.