Eat, Pray, Love

Has rocked my world. I didn't think I would like it that much. I knew I should read it but I wasn't too into doing it, mostly because I'm not usually the kind of person who is into books about people on spiritual journeys. Yoga and meditating? Too new age for me, thanks. But too many people had told me how good the book was, and I want to see the movie when it comes out next week, so I figured I should read it before doing so.

Um.

IT WAS SO GOOD.

I guess it's a fad for a reason. If you haven't read it, DO IT. I felt like everything I had been working to achieve this past semester was truly brought to light and I'm making a serious effort to maintain happiness and not let life's troubles get you down.

Which I obviously did not do very well with pretty much the entire month of July. Growing up is really hard! I was not prepared for it. I think I might be through the worst of it though. Plus I'm trying really hard now to not dwell on plans not working out and not getting upset because I can't control everything. Life can still be great even when you don't get what you want.

Yeah, I have no job or income. Yeah, I apply for about five jobs a day and haven't gotten a single email back, let alone an interview. Yeah, I have to pay $750 a month for rent alone and pretty much have no more savings. It's ok. And I say that with sincerity. It will work out. And not because it has to. Because it doesn't have to. But I have faith that it will work out and I will be ok. Right now I'm just working on being okay with however it decides to work out, even if it's a complete departure from the plans and expectations I had for my life. Because even if I plan to the last detail, even if I do everything I possibly can to INSURE that something will go the way I expect it to...life changes how it wants to. So I HAVE to learn how to deal with that. And though this isn't true of all people, for me, that's how I define growing up. Growing up for me is letting go, going with it, and figuring how to fix things on your own.

Granted, I don't know if I've really fixed things on my own own yet. My parents have helped me...a LOT. I'm extraordinarily lucky. But I finally felt empowered this weekend. It's small, and it's stupid, but I did it myself and without help. On Saturday night, Carrie and I were sitting in the living room talking when a MOUSE ran out from under the couch to behind the radiator.

I'm going to take a minor break from this story to go on a mini-rant about rodents. I hate them. I despise them. They terrify me. All rodents, except maybe rabbits. They are small and hide well, they destroy your stuff, they creep around in the night, they carry disgusting diseases, and they MULTIPLY. Normal things take time to reproduce, giving you ample opportunity to get rid of the problem before it turns into a bigger problem. With rodents, it take approximately 4.7 seconds for one mouse to turn into forty. DOES THIS DISTURB NO ONE ELSE?!

Knowing this about myself, I was surprised to find that I stayed very calm during my first encounter with a mouse in my apartment. Luckily this has never been a problem I've had to deal with. The worst pest problem I've had was a random bug here or there. Well not in New York. I guess it was only a matter of time. I didn't even scream, I just put my feet on the couch and silently went through the thousands of options now before me. Carrie was NOT about it and ran to her room, but I didn't move. I was not going to let this make me upset because something else was going wrong. The first thought I had was "I don't know any boys in this city. I can't make them get rid of it. I'm going to have to be the one to man up." This was something I could FIX. I even thought about searching for the mouse and trapping it under a bowl but I'm not brave enough for that yet.

So on Sunday we went all the way to Lowes in Brooklyn and bought traps. And I set them out. And even though our friend has not been captured, I am not afraid. I still go in the kitchen and bathroom and act like I don't have a third roommate. Yeah it's stupid and lame but it makes me feel better to know that I'M the one handling this problem. I'm not paying someone else to do it, or making a friend help me.

Anyway, the point of me telling this story of my bravery towards a helpless creature that's about three inches long (I know, I'm such a bamf), is that I've noticed IMMEDIATELY the difference this book has had on me (ugh I'm considering deleting this whole entry because I sound so mushy, which is a slight departure from my cynical banter entries but I've come this far so why not). I think before this weekend I would have just added this stupid problem to my "long list of why my life sucks so much" and been so mad at the world for just making everything even harder.

But I had decided just a few hours before that August was a new month and it was going to be great. So mouse problem was not a bad thing, it was a good thing. It was a learning experience! I'm going to have to learn how to deal with mice at some point (they are almost as inevitable as taxes, especially in NYC), so why not now. Thus, August...still tight.

And today I took it one step further. I'm not going into detail about job search and potential plans for the imminent future, but it weighed on my mind all day at work (where I actually did nothing the entire day except occasionally answer the phone) by the end of the day I was feeling really anxious and on edge. Leaving my office I weighed my options. I could follow my typical Monday schedule, walk three blocks, get on the train, be home by 6:45, cook dinner, apply for jobs, watch tv, and do nothing.

Or, I could take advantage of the fact that I have no obligations or anything to do, plus no work tomorrow, so I decided to do this instead. I normally take the train from Penn Station (the A, then I switch to the L at 14th st), but instead I walked the 20 and 4 avenue blocks to Union Square and took the train back to Brooklyn from there. I took advice Sarah Smith gave me; last summer whenever she got frustrated she'd walk around and enjoy the fact that she lived in New York. So I did just that. It was a BEAUTIFUL night, probably the nicest of the whole summer. I window shopped and spent about a half hour in the Herald Square Macy's, got some Jamba (duh), accidentally walked to the Empire State building, found a Shake Shack, and calmed the eff down. I left work at 6, I got home at 8:15. Totally worth it. I ignored every natural urge I had (aka text my closest friends and annoy them by obsessing over what to do and making them validate me) and dealt with MY problems by myself. Because I am very able to do so. I came home and was just so HAPPY.

So all in all it's been a great past couple of days, and I have not been able to say that confidently pretty much since I moved here. Nothing life-wise has really changed; I'm in exactly the same predicament as I was a week ago. But my outlook has changed, and that is truly making all the difference. I blame Elizabeth Gilbert.

The moral of the story is go read Eat, Pray, Love. And that sometimes I write lame posts. The next one will be pointless I promise.