Psst future...tell me what's out there!

Let's talk transitioning.

A transitional period is a time when you are moving from one really familiar aspect of life into a totally new one. It causes you to close a door on one chapter and get ready to flow (or crash) into the next phase. 

Some examples of transitions include: student to worker, living at home to on your own, single to relationship, relationship to single, engaged to married, unemployed to employed, city slicker to world traveler and so on. It is a time when things are a bit foreign and everything you thought you knew no longer applies.

Before transitioning, there is always the heaping water bucket of uncertainty rocking in the balance over your head.

Drip, drip, drip each droplet is painful and teasing. Aren't we all just waiting, wishing to get soaking wet? Uncertainty can drive anyone crazy. Will they hire me? Does he like me? Will I get in? Is this the right path for me?

In about one month, I will no longer be a student. I went from high school student to a Western undergrad and then directly into a post-graduate certificate program. Being a student has become a large part of my identity. However, at this point I feel I am ready to make the transition. I'm ready to move out of the classroom and see what I'm made of.

I just wish I had some answers. I'm still interviewing, applying and hoping soon someone will see something in me and think, "Yeah, that's the girl we want."

There are many aspects of my life I know are on the verge of breaking though and changing. New people are entering and new opportunities and experiences are coming my way. The overwhelming part is not knowing where I stand. 

"Uncertainty and mystery are energies of life. Don't let them scare you unduly, for they keep boredom at bay and spark creativity." - R. I. Fitzhenry


I hope this time will be a time where I can focus on the creative aspects of my life such as writing, learning more about photography and making connections. I know I've been MIA this past week, but I have a lot to share with you including a new Not A Model photo shoot!  

I'd also like to give a grand welcome to all my new readers. I can't wait to hear from you! I leave you with this photograph I took yesterday in Anthropologie of their very creative and eco-friendly chandelier.

Get inspired. Enjoy xo

Do You Remember?

Nostalgia comes in two forms.

Sometimes it tickles underneath your chin like a rare blue feather and makes you giggle. Other moments it scoops you up like King Kong's left hand and leaves you suffocating, reeling under its firm grip.

What you miss isn't just the memory but the people and the person you used to be in that fragment of time. Those people are gone (whether literally or figuratively). You wonder will I ever become nostalgic for the moment I'm living in right now?

Things I'm nostalgic for:
 
University living: my roommates. the smell of my favourite bar. running into everyone you know. kitchen dance parties. walking on the stony brick campus on a sunny day. the morning after. the afternoon after. gourmet bagels. long train rides home. three girls waiting for me after a first date. four closets full of clothes.

My grandfather: his smile. his brown sweater vest. the way he looked at me as if I was actually the light of the world and how he could make me believe it, just for a second. the way he called the couch a chesterfield. his hazel eyes. the pen he always kept in his shirt pocket.

European vacations: icy creamy gelato. seeing everything for the first time. getting lost in Paris. getting lost in Venice. cold, tangy sangria in Barcelona. feeling small. feeling new. laughing till I can't breathe with my best friend. concerning my days only with my next photo and my next meal.

The funny thing about nostalgia is just as quickly as it comes- it leaves.

As if none of it ever happened at all.

Stuck in Suburbia

Regression |riˈgre sh ən|

noun

• a return to an earlier stage of life or a supposed previous life

Living away from home as a student for the past four years was a significant time in my life. I learned independence, self reliance, and enjoyed my little taste of freedom. Currently, my housemates go by Mom, Pops and little sis. 

The Good
Home cooked meals- My parents are great cooks. Maybe it’s because we’re Italian. All I know is my old diet of rice and vegetables does not beat coming home after a long day to a healthy, complete meal with all the trimmings.
The amenities- I live rent free with internet, phone, cable, groceries and laundry included. If something breaks down, it doesn’t take a week to fix. I’m never freezing, or sweating or living with dust bunnies.
Warm and Fuzzies- I come home to that cozy, homey, welcoming atmosphere that only your original home has. Maybe it’s the smell. Maybe it’s my Mom forcing me to hug her while I protest. Home is just home.

The Bad
I can’t find a single thing- when you live with friends, no one touches your stuff.  In my house, my clothes are constantly under my sister’s bed, or in her car. My mom moves EVERYTHING. Anything left on a counter space is fair game to be moved to an obscure location never to be found again!
Lights out- Not like a curfew or anything, but my family gets to bed at an early hour. The house just shuts down. In university, there is always someone to talk to, eat with, drag out, or gossip with at all hours of the night!
Killing the Environment- You have to drive everywhere. Oh suburbia. How boring art thou. People do not come outside unless to walk their dogs. Sadly, I now use my puppy as an excuse to go for a walk. I nod, half smile and discuss the weather with my other suburban pet owners.
The Riddler- There is a constant inquisition into my life. “Where are you going? Who are you going with? What do you want for dinner? What time are you coming home? Do you have a key? What are your plans for tomorrow? This does not go over well early in the morning. BEWARE!

The Compromise
Right now home works for me. With my busy schedule, and heavy workload, it is nice to have people who care so much about my well being. I am very grateful to whoever puts up with my grumpy pants in the morning. So Monday to Friday living at home is great. However, when the weekend comes around, I yearn to live with people my age and be two steps away from the downtown action. I do miss city life, even small town city life.

But I know those days will come again. For now I’ll have to settle for homemade pasta sauce and never being able to find my stuff.