Que Sera Sera

There is something to be said about going away and coming back home. It's probably why millions of people do it every day and the novelty will never wear off. There's the renewed appreciation for the familiar. They way your bed fits, just right. The fine balance of your pillows, not too soft, not to sturdy. The comforting smell, that not matter how old you are or where life takes you, the smallest hint of it and you know, home. 

There's also the small and unexplainable way your spirit just comes back rejuvenated. Indescribable, but undeniable. A part of you longs for the foreign adventure, but it's hard to fulling ignore the ease of breathing at home. The way the familiar surroundings break down the stiffness built in your spine. The knowing, where things are and where they belong, including yourself.

In the realm of careers, I'm still trying to find where I belong. Today, I welcomed the week with another Skype interview. It was the same company I spoke with a few weeks ago, but this time around, I didn't wear pajama pants, I wore gym shorts. Am I confident about it? Yes...and no. I'm confident in my answers and in myself, but I'm not confident in their feelings about me. Does that make sense? Ultimately, they weren't easy to read, but hakuna matata, right? I made it to another round. If this were American Idol, I'd have better chances at some air time. Oh well, I'll hope for the best and in regard to the rest, que sera sera, whatever will be, will be... (You have to love that rejuvenated kefi spirit!)


Sincerely,

Cybill

Live From Hilton Head

Hey everyone! Sorry I've been MIA for a bit...or a week. Don't worry, I'm still here. I'm still around. Except, I'm just not home.

In the previous post, I mentioned plans to visit Hilton Head Island. Well, I'm here, but my extended family isn't here...any longer/yet. Okay, so that statement is probably a little confusing. Let me explain.

When we first got here, my cousin and her family along with some of our family friends from west Florida joined us. It was fun. They seemed to enjoy my "They say college helps you land a job, look what happened to me," joke. My cousin's daughter, Azalea, also expressed her feelings about going to college to be a nurse. Long story short, she doesn't want to be a nurse, but her parents are emphasizing the job security. (I probably serve as an example of what not to do.) I'll feel bad if she ends up studying to be a nurse and her heart's not it in. That's never fun.

Now the "yet" part of that statement. Well, while my family from Florida left the other day, there is possibility of some of my family from New Jersey driving down to join us for the rest of the week. It's silly, but certain members of my family from west Florida and New Jersey don't get along with one another. I've asked my Dad why and when he explained, I asked, "Are you serious? That's the reason they don't get along?" It's really all silly and a good bit of it is because of my uncle from New Jersey. I won't get into the details, but after a first-hand account of his abrasive judgement from the most ridiculous of reasons, I totally get it. And part of me hopes they decide not to drive down.

However, I won't focus on that! I'll focus on the salty sea a few yards from my door. Who doesn't love that? I'll focus on the chill that greets my cheeks when I step outside. I'll focus on having the beach to myself. I'll focus on getting to read my books in a different location.

Don't cue your own level of self-worth from other people's perception, opinions, views and labels.

Sincerely,

Cybill

Left, Right or Straight Ahead

The summer after my freshmen year of college, I sat in the front passenger seat of our family's 1996 Jeep Grand Cherokee while my brother drove home from Daytona Beach where he was attending college. Earlier that summer, my brother had gotten in a car accident (don't worry, no one was hurt) which left his Ford Ranger totaled. His consolation, our family Jeep, which I had named Buster when he was under my care the year prior.

At the time, Buster's AC wasn't functioning, and anyone who lives in Florida or visited Florida during the summer can tell you, a road trip of any length, in a car without proper functioning AC is no way to travel. My brother and I traveled anyways.

We were about an hour into the four hour drive drive, with the windows down allowing anything resembling cool air into the car, when we came to the subject of my future spouse. Perhaps it was being engulfed in the heat coupled with the blur of the passing tress, but it was while we were talking about my future Mr. Right that my brother said something that has stuck with me for the last four and a half years.

It was during that hot summer day when my brother told me, "Cybill, you need to marry a guy who has a plan. He needs to have a solid plan in life and a stable job, because you have no idea where you're going or what you're doing."

With the windows rolled down and I-95 or Florida's Turnpike before us, I think I just laughed, finding humor and a compliment in his statement. Four and a half years later, all I can do is gawk at the amount of truth those words held and still do to this day.

A couple of days ago I was researching the Pacific Crest Trail with plans of one day hiking a section of it. Last year I was researching possible trips to Peru in hopes of one day hiking the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu. And a couple of minutes ago, I was discussing plans to climb Mount Kilimanjaro with my friend and college roommate, Kallie. (Do you notice a trend here?)

I don't know when I'll be able to accomplish any of this, but I know I want to accomplish all of it, and with these plans secured on my bucket list, the things I need to do (i.e., get a job with a steady income) just get pushed lower and lower on the list of things I want to do. Now I find myself standing at the intersection of, I Don't Know What to Do.

Recently, my current predicament has me debating the possibility of becoming a waitress opposed to landing an entry-level job in the PR industry. Waitressing would allow me to one day quit the job without the threat of "throwing away my career." (Is there such a thing as a career in waitressing? I apologize if there is.) But with these thoughts, I find myself having to answer to the part of me that wants to have a successful career (an actual career), a 401K (whatever that is), a mortgage (really, I'd simply like to own a house) and the knowledge that I am a functioning adult who positively contributes to society (and pays their taxes; something about taxes seems so adult to me).

How do I do this? How can I mix this sense of stability with my need for adventure? How do people make their passion their career? Which way to should I turn? These are the things I need to know. These are the questions I need answered. This is what they don't teach you in school.

In the time that it's taken me to type up this blog post, save it as a draft and come back to edit it, I've researched volunteer opportunities abroad (volunteering in an orphanage in Nepal sounds like fun, seriously). In the time since my brother and I drove down from Daytona Beach in an airless Buster, I've come to terms with my wanderlust, but I have yet to come to a conclusion of which way to turn...left, right or continue straight ahead. Perhaps it'll take another four and a half years to figure this out. Perhaps it'll take a guy, my Mr. Right, who has a solid plan and a stable career, or maybe, it'll just take me, day-by-day, taking one step after another, turning left or right, but turning whichever way I choose...

Sincerely,

Cybill

{Photo Credit}

Ambition & Acceptance: Pacific Crest Trail

I don't know what brought on the desire to strap on a backpack a fraction of my weight and hike, but this weekend I found myself researching the Pacific Crest Trail. Actually, scratch that. I know exactly what brought on the desire. My omnipresent wanderlust spirit and my current read, Wild by Cheryl Strayed.

Now, I understand you may toss this as just another "Silly Cybill Notion," (I should really coin that term), and it may be just that, regardless, isn't it a great one? There's so much adventure in the idea of hiking the more than 2,000 miles from the Mexican border to the Canadian border. (Okay, there is also a little crazy in it, but there's always a level of crazy in any adventure.)

I should probably confess that I have no desire to hike the entire PCT. I'm ambitious, yes, but I also accept my limitations. (My balance of ambition and acceptance is a bit skewed, but it's there.) With my limitations and physical capabilities well in mind, I've narrowed my research to a small portion of the trail located in Oregon. Oregon is the location of choice for a number of reasons. My cousin Kate and her fiancé Paul live in Portland. I have plans to attend their wedding in June and the fact that Kate was a nurse in the Army and Paul's a firefighter help too. (See, I told you I have a balance between ambition and acceptance.) Now comes the stage of planning that take time, finances and all that adult responsibility stuff into account. Not exactly ready for all of that, just yet.

Clearly my plans to take on the PCT are in the early stages. It's in the fetal stage at best, but they're there. They've found their way into my mind and will lay dormant but will not die. It was the same with my plans to study abroad in London. It took a couple of years, but they were realized. Perhaps my plans for PCT will take a couple of years as well, but remember my balance of ambition and acceptance? Well, let's just say my scale leans heavily on ambition.

Sincerely,

Cybill

{Photo Credit}

London: The Game Plan & The Travel Bug

Long before I started this blog (which in reality, isn't very long at all) I knew I would have to dedicate a post (or a couple of posts) to one of my favorite city, if not my favorite city. However, I didn't know where to start. I didn't know what stories I should share and what adventures would make for the best stories, so I think I'll just start at the beginning and we'll see where the journey takes us.

Once upon a time, circa 2001, I was sitting in the front passenger seat telling my Mom the number of places I wanted to visit one day. We were heading home from Miami, driving along US 27 and we had reached the part of the day when the sun had started to set, but it wasn't blinding like it usually is on any given Florida afternoon. I remember it was overcast but I can't remember if it had rained. What I do remember is my Mom interrupting me to tell me, "Cybill, don't get married right out of college. You want to travel to all of these places and you can do that after you graduate."

That was it. It was Inception without Leonardo DiCaprio and I ran with it. I caught it, tucked it under my arm and ran it in for a 97 yard touchdown. Victory dance! Then I discovered fire... Okay, not really, but I did discover a way to begin traveling before graduating college. That game plan and the play called, studying abroad. 

Fast forward to summer 2008 and college orientation. We were given a booklet of meetings and presentations set up by faculty and students describing anything from "How to Talk to Your Professor" to "The Best Ways to Manage Your Time." My parents suggested I attend a few of those, but there was one presentation I insisted we attend, no contest. After circling the presentation summary a number of times and under what some countries might consider duress (just kidding), we were in. We were sitting in the auditorium and I knew studying abroad was going to be my gateway into Europe.

The idea of traveling, planted years ago was only a companion to the travel bug that was dormant since birth. However, that afternoon, sitting in that auditorium, it crept and crawled it's way into light and my hopes of traveling the world would become realized. Little did I know the length of my checklist...

Sincerely,

Cybill