what's next?

Well.

In an unexpectedly brief yet stressful moment last night, I learned that I will be packing my bags up this summer. Unfortunately, I will not be flying into Narita International Airport, just outside of Tokyo, Japan, at the beginning of August. My plans to begin a steady path towards ex patriotism have been foiled. At least for the time being.

A fellow gamer and internet acquaintance sent me a message, giving me the heads up that application IDs that had been rewarded with an interview, the next step, a chance at making the journey to Japan, were posted on the US Embassy's JET Program website. I immediately visited the site following, putting all other matters aside. As the PDF loaded, I found the small piece of paper that had on it, written in ink, the key that would unlock the next phase of the journey. It did not unlock the next phase, rather it dashed my chances and crushed my hope. Using the find feature in my web browser, I slowly entered my application ID, seeing that matches were found, hoping that everyone one up until the last would also be found. I made it to the second to last character...and nothing. No matches said Safari. I of course double checked, but to no avail.

I am disappointed. In one hand, I hold the sense of relief that I now know my fate concerning the JET Program. In the other, disappointment, but motivation and hope to find out what I will do in the face of this loss. I was at a lack of words when it happened, and thankfully, I was alone. Rather than perform the "open your acceptance letter in front of your parents or friends" script, I was more than obliged to read this in solitude and send a text to my brother, a friend or two. My parents don't know yet, but it won't be meaningful to them. They see my job, my money as happiness, when I'd rather go without either to be happier. Don't worry, I still love, respect and appreciate them.

But here I am, in my right hand, holding the thoughts of what is next. The aforementioned acquaintance provided me with links to other similar programs and blogs to people who post questions and give advice about moving to and living in Japan. There is a lot of good information and plenty of other options involving teaching English in Japan. Do I start applying to more programs?

I actually don't know yet. Something pulled me towards the JET Program, and knowing a previous participant provided me with lots of confidence and motivation to see myself alone in Japan. The idea has grown more daunting just in the past few hours today that I devoted to researching these other programs. I still want to travel and live abroad. But now, how? With what program?

I have previously mentioned my interest in the nursing field. I do somehow feel that by going back to school though, I am short changing myself on just going and doing, being in the unknown. Another 2 years? 2.5 years before I could be free?

For now I wait. More research is well deserved at this point. All I'm truly worried about is time. Will I be able to facilitate a move, a change before the end of July, when my lease expires and I hope to move on from my job and this place?

failure; or to succeed

So brief background and how I chose this subject.

While catching up on some friends blogs during my "lunch break", I was shocked to find out that the one blog I was most excited about reading for the next 2 months had essentially already ended. I was reading from the oldest post I had not yet read to the most recent (which I assume most people do) and found out that a 2 month long solo cycling journey across the southern United States had lasted only 3 days. Mechanical issues, equipment "misplacement" and bodily injury contributed to the demise of this journey, but certainly not of my friend who endured these hardships.

So failure. I'm scared of it. I will admit this.

It turns out that my "new" definition of failure is a lot less horrible than previously interpreted. By "new" I mean I just thought this up while finishing off the last of my Seagram's Ginger Ale (getchya some, it's good). Failure is the perception of being less than you are for coming up short on a goal. I don't think this sounds too bad and I already feel a little bit better about the failures I've experienced in my life. The point I'm really trying to get at though is that, like most motivational speakers and what not will say, failure brings about success.

My broken collar bone. Failure? I think so. I failed at having the best New Years Eve I've ever had and getting appropriately intoxicated. Plus I have to deal with a weak arm and shoulder for a few months coming. Where's the success? I have an interest in the field of nursing now. I'd be willing to break, let's say 2 more bones, if it allowed me to have a direction in my life. Now, let's hope, knock on wood, pray to whatever it is we do, that this doesn't actually happen.

So the premature termination of my friend's more than 2000 mile escapade is some sort of failure. He admits so, I think we all can, despite the circumstances. But I would like to commend my friend on having the courage to make the decision to turn around. It takes some serious will to ride miles of road already traversed, walk up to the ticket desk at the airport and purchase a ticket home. I think he found success in being able to make this decision. Finding out that you know when it's time to turn around and take one for the team will be invaluable to my friend. Beyond saving time and money, this ability can save lives.

Short and sweet. I'm glad my buddy is back home safely with his wife (newly weds). I think I was trying to point towards the "why so serious?" mentality with this one.

see the beauty, enjoy life.

2009: i'm not good for me

Well. What can I say?

Happy New Years! Happy Holidays! Why yes, I do have medical insurance!!

By some stroke of dumb fate, I found myself on the first of the new year in a hospital...again. 

January 1, 2008, 3pm: I arrive at Virginia Beach General with a broken fibula and ankle, right leg. 

January 1, 2009, 3am: I arrive at VCU Medical Center with a broken clavical, left shoulder. 

I won't go into the gory details of what happened at the ER, but I will say that in my broken, yet drunken state, I must have been the most responsive and polite patient being treated. The inebriation that I had bestowed upon myself allowed me to greet the ambulance crew who picked me up from my hotel on E. Canal Street, downtown Richmond, VA, with a hearty "Happy New Years! Looks like ya'll are doing better than me, sorry for having you come out at such an odd hour." 

The handful of nurses and/or doctors who I talked to or asked questions or asked for a sip of water must've been confused by my demeanor. I suppose they had already gotten past the idea that they were working on a holiday (of course, someone does have to do it). I, on the other hand, felt extremely terrible that I had gone out, tripped over my drunken self and inflicted this injury that required medical attention. I profusely apologized to any of the medical staff that provided me care as well as did my best to pay attention at all times and ask important questions so they knew I indeed was giving them my undivided attention. 

6 weeks in a sling. Does not require surgery for functionality but can be performed for aesthetic purposes (I'm not sure if the current bump my collar bone is creating will lower itself by much). Percocet for the pain, which is surprisingly not that bad (much less worse than either of my ankle/leg fractures). 

My thanks go out to the staff of the VCU Medical Center who treated my sorry ass for having to take me in on New Years, to the front desk employees at the Crowne Plaza hotel (which I only slept at for 2 hours) for calling the hospital, and Gerald, the shuttle driver who picked me up from the hospital at 6 in the morning, being kind despite all my apologies for making him pick me up.

One last thank you goes to the man working the graveyard cleaning shift in the hospital lobby. Without realizing it, I had gone to the hospital without shoes on (nor a shirt) and while waiting for Gerald to pick me up, I paced the lobby in my socks. The man cleaning approached me asking "Hey man, it's a cold one out there, what size shoes do you wear?" I didn't realize till just then that I didn't have my shoes. I reassured him I had a ride and would not need shoes, but unless I'm mistaken, he had it in his mind that he might find me a pair of shoes so I could walk somewhere without freezing my feet. Others saw me in my under-clothed state, but this person was the only to inquire or be worried towards me about it. Thank you. 

As I sit here typing, broken, relying on chemical drugs, I thank this man for setting the precedence of what I hope I can make my 2009 for others. 

Happy New Years, go help someone you don't know.