Searching for a New Professional Life

I’m 28, a majority of my friends are between 25 – 35. Pretty much all of us are college-educated, worldly, personable and dynamic. We’re talented, we’re attractive and yet a lot of us have something else in common; we’re not happy with our ‘professional lives’. I understand that that is not uncommon, there’s even a book “The Quarter-life Crisis” that puts a title to what we are feeling, but what’s at the heart of the issue? I can’t speak for us all, but I can speak for me…

I was always driven, focused and pushed the limits of what life offered. I spent my undergraduate career challenging the system, finding ways around the rules (which were simply there to make one into a clone of those who came before them) and won. I developed new study abroad programs, spent over two years and almost five semesters overseas, revived a dead major and met my goal “to speak four languages by the time I graduated” (which I still did in four years.) It didn’t end there, I moved to DC to explore graduate school options and found one that ‘fit’. During the two years I was at the School for International Service at American University, I studied International Communications taking an interest in cross-cultural communications and worked to find a way to use this within the US and the GLBT community. For the most part, I was happy, I was optimistic about my future, even though I was putting myself in some massive debt. In the two years since graduating, that has all changed.

I sit in an office (for the most part) from 9 – 5:30 (or there about), I work with a group of individuals that could care less about who I am, what I know or what I truly could contribute, I’m underpaid and undervalued. I started a job thinking I was going to be doing International Government Relations and have ended up in the world of auditing regulations, dealing with, but not interacting with, other countries and cultures. The drive that I once felt for life is not there; the excitement I used to feel while thinking about what the world has to offer is gone; in essence, who I defined myself as is disappearing.

Although I realize that it is not simple a job or money that will allow me to rediscover the inner me, I have to admit, it plays a huge part. The bottom-line is when what you do for eight hours of every day isn’t something you like or that fits you, it has an affect on your attitude.

Is this just life? Is it true what they say, “you aren’t meant to love what you do, that’s why it’s called ‘work’”? For my sake, I have to believe no, I have to believe that I, and my friends, won’t continue to wake-up every morning thinking “this is it?” I have to believe that the will behind the dreams that propelled me through my earlier life will thrust me into a more enjoyable future; one that uses my languages, the cross-cultural education and experiences that I love, and will have me waking up every morning shouting “YES! I get to do it again.”

I'm a new fan...

Ok, I LOVE showtunes, and I love talented people who can sing showtunes. Case in point, this is Von, he's 20 years old and lives in Missouri. I was sent a link to this you-tube and can't get enough.

Thoughts?

Returning to Reality; on a bus

(This entry is out of order and should have been posted on September 25th)

My birthday weekend has come to a close. As posted, I did wake-up with ‘someone’ on my birthday, but I had the added bonus of going to sleep with someone that night as well. It was unexpected (at least to me) and exactly what I needed…

He is British, living in Qatar and works for Al Jazeera. We corresponded a few times before he came to Washington over e-mail, but I didn’t think our paths would cross. Luckily, my travel schedule changed and we were able to meet.

Over the two week period that he was here I saw him several times. We had dinners, attended parties and went out together; not every night, but enough that I know I will miss him. The night of my birthday (and the night of the knitter’s party) was his last night in DC. I invited him to the party, and was pleasantly surprised when he changed his plans to be sure he was there. We spent most of the night doing our own thing, schmoozing, talking, but not with each other. The night came to a close and I found myself curled up on an outdoor lounge with him; the perfect way to end an evening.

The knitter and I drove him back to his corporate apartment, I got out to hug him good-bye and wish him a safe journey back to Doha when it came…

His blue eyes had a hint of sadness and disappointment, his head tipped a little bit to the left and he asked with his adorable British accent, “What? You’re not spending the night with me?” How could I resist?

We went upstairs, got ready for bed and laid there, talking, caressing…

The sun came up before I dosed off, I woke a couple hours later to him folding himself into my arms and thanking me for making his business trip to DC so enjoyable. We grabbed breakfast at Starbuck’s, said our good-byes and kissed on the corner of Connecticut Avenue and K St. He turned to head back to his apartment to pack and catch his British Airways flight for London and I headed to 16th Street.

It wasn’t until I was on my way home that it hit me; I had a two week fantasy relationship that lasted through my birthday. A time filled with dinners and stories of glamour and luxury and now I was returning to my life, my world on a bus…

DC DMV

Now, I am going to preface this with the fact that in all the times I have gone to DMV I have NEVER had a horrible experience… this time was different and I now understand why people think they are inept.

In the mail, I received a notice for an unpaid parking ticket. Pretty standard for the District, but there is a catch: I sold my car and surrendered my plates in April of this year; the ticket was issued to my license plate in August.

Now, it doesn’t take a genius to realize that something is amiss. I called the adjudication services of the DMV who informed me that the system was showing that I had not relinquished my plates and that they were in fact still registered to me. The only course of action was to contact DMV, “excuse me” I said, “but aren’t I speaking with the DMV now?”

“Yes, sir, but you are speaking with adjudication services. Our system is different than the other DMV system and to relinquish your plates, you have to come down to our offices and turn them in.”

“Ma’am, I did that in April.”

“Well, I’m sorry sir, but the only thing you can do is come down and talk to someone.” And she proceeds to hang-up… I knew I was in for it.

Calmly I gathered my thoughts, grabbed the supporting documents and headed down to the black hole, otherwise known as DMV. I walked in and was greeted by a rather short line which moved very quickly; at first I thought my DMV luck was carrying on… boy was I off.

I was called up to the reception desk by this woman wearing a white short-sleeve button up sweater that was two sizes too small for her breasts. I explained the situation and showed her the documentation to which she replied “That’s impossible.”… Well, no, it’s not impossible because IT HAPPENED. She turned to her computer and began typing. After a few moments the guy next to her asked what the issue was and he said I needed to go to adjudication services to deal with ticket issues. I was still smiling at this point and calmly explained what I needed yet again. The two of them figured out which system they needed to look in and the man returned to his station. After a couple of minutes (and without resolution) the woman stood up and said “I need a cigarette” and walked away. That’s right, left me standing there with no answers, no direction and just walked off.

Finally, the man (who spoke softly and with the worst diction I have ever heard) came back to help and went off to get a supervisor. Fast forward twenty minutes, I am still waiting for a supervisor and the cigarette woman comes back and says “you still here?” At this point, my smile has faded and in my mind I am thinking “still here? F**K yes, I am still here. I’ve had no resolution, I’ve been waiting forever while you smoke and I am not paying for a ticket that wasn’t even issued to me.” She didn’t say or do anything else, she just returned to her seat and said “next”. (I think smoke was coming from my ears.)

A supervisor finally came out, spoke to me, gave me additional paperwork and told me to mail it to the adjudication services with an explanation and that this ticket would be cleared. That sounds all well and good, but when I asked if the underlying issue of that plate number still being attached to my name was going to be cleared he said “there is nothing I can do about that, so I suggest you keep this paperwork in case it happens again” and went back to his locked office.

I wish that was the end, but no, I also had to change my address. That took an additional 45 minutes and came with its own hassles: 1) the machine that prints the licenses was broken, 2) the man who fixes the machine (who was sitting across the room) was “on his break” 3) when it was fixed, my license printed upside down so they had to re-print it 4) once it was issued the man turned to me and asked “do you want me to change the registration for you vehicle as well?” “What vehicle?”, I ask. “The one with license plate BN………”

It never ends!