Reflections

[I posted two entries back-to-back again - if you're reading in sequence, you'll want to read the prior entry first.]

Kiwis, as a people, are so much more laid back and relaxed than we are. One person's theory is that maybe it's because we border the United States, causing us to be more cautious and uptight about daily life, either because that way of thinking is contagious, or because we have more reason to be cautious. I went to a free summer concert in the gardens the other night. There were no areas roped off, no sections separating those who wished to drink alcohol from those underage, no security personnel checking bags. You just walked in with whatever you wanted (food, beverage of choice, whatever), found a seat on a bench or on the grass, and enjoyed the show. Trish and Kelly, in whose home I stayed the last time I was in Wellington, offered me my "old room" back. As if it wasn't incredible enough that they let me, a near stranger, stay at no cost last time, Trish, via text messaging, offered me accomodation again - knowing they would not be back from their own vacation for another day. She gave me the housesitter's cell number and let her know I'd be calling. Upon arrival, Susanna met me at the door. As soon as I got settled, she promptly invited me to join her and her friend that evening to go see a movie. What's up with that? With all of this? Why does it surprise me so? Albeit, they're very pleasant and welcome surprises! Maybe it's a fresh way of looking at people. A reminder of how much our North American society has changed with regard to how we view and treat each other. It's not that we treat each other badly. Not at all. We just seem to keep ourselves an arms length away. (Scenes from the movie, Crash, are flashing through my mind.) Are we just more reserved, cynical, distrustful...cautious? Is it all in the interest of self-preservation? I wonder.

Ah, well, enough of that thread for now! So yes, I'm in Wellington. Welcomed by both old and new friends. I've been staying at Trish and Kelly's and have also reconnected with Rebecca, the fellow Canadian with whom I also spent some time last time around. Strangely, the day I arrived, I began coming down with a cold. It's not strange in that I came down with one (both Helen and Andrea had been sick so I'm sure I just caught whatever they had, sharing desserts and stuff as we do) but strange that everytime work is on my horizon, THAT is when I get sick! It's a sign! I'm not supposed to work ever again! Sigh...if only. Ha! But that's the plan. I've basically traveled the country from tip to tip and now it's time to let in a bit of reality. I'd like to replenish my bank account, but there's also the added advantages of being settled and able to develop a little routine again, as well as the opportunity to immerse myself in the Kiwi culture. Traveling a country is one thing, but actually living and working in that country is something completely different. It's something I want to experience even if it means working. So the hunt is on. I've only been at it a week, but the type of work I think I want keeps changing. Cafes were my original choice, but upon looking at them from the perspective of working there, rather than just sitting in them and enjoying a dessert or hot chocolate, they seem loud and chaotic. Instead, I've applied for a very diverse range of positions - at restaurants, spas, an organic grocery store, a book store, the hospital. I'm planning on talking with a temp agency as well. I like the idea of a variety of short-term positions. I'm looking for exposure to different types of jobs and working environments and temping would be a great way to accomplish that.

Sure, it all sounds cheery and logical now, but looking for work is, well...hard work! Each day left me so drained, both mentally and emotionally. Although I was using online job listing sites to find and apply for many of the positions, I also wanted to walk the streets. (Whoa, be careful how you take that phrase!) To familiarize myself with what types of businesses were in town. It's not like at home, where you know what's around. I see a shop name here and have no idea what they provide or sell! And I believe what they say, that not all positions are posted. I thought it would be a good idea to just walk into a few places that looked appealing to me and ask if they had anything available, to hand over a copy of my resume. It makes for a long, stressful day. The first full day of hunting was probably the worst...
Fade out to dream sequence:

Overwhelmed, tired, frustrated. Emotion throbs in my throat. Tears don't come yet I still feel, for an instant, like I want to cry. In moments like these, when the world seems too big for me, when I feel lost and can't find my way, I strangely find myself saddened that there isn't a man in my life. Why that fact asserts itself under these circumstances is curious to me. At best guess, maybe it's an attempt of my heart, mind and soul to seek comfort. And I realize that, in my delirium, I'm formulating and reformulating sentences in my head. As though these thoughts must be clear, concise phrases rather than abstract, formless emotions and feelings. I'm trying to describe my emotions and feelings so that someone else would understand them...feel them...maybe relate to them. Adding to the ever present biography I seem to unconsciously create in my own head.
...end of dream sequence.

Intense paragraph? Dramatic? Or hogwash? They were real thoughts. Mostly conjured up after returning back from that first day of job hunting. I was so tired and drained, but still found myself driven to record those thoughts. It was inspiring to me, actually. Many of you have posted comments to my blog with respect to my writing and descriptive skills, voicing opinions that maybe I missed my calling. Could THIS possibly be a career front for me? I enjoy handwriting, even find comfort in it. I take hours to create each of these blog entries, taking the time to properly convey things to my own level of satisfaction. I often find myself rewording my own thoughts - to be reader friendly? More easily understood/felt by others? I used to write stories for fun when I was younger. I find satisfaction in being able to express myself clearly, and to (hopefully!) use proper spelling and grammar to do so. Used to take pride in my letter writing skills at work. It's definitely something to explore. Once I find a job and life stabilizes, I may look into taking a creative writing class, or investigate what it's like to be a sub-editor, maybe research the possibility of getting an article published in a magazine...if I can. As always, I welcome your thoughts!

Love from the southern hemisphere,

Holly