Starting a blog is always so easy for me. I have approximately 10 Tumblrs, a scary amount of LiveJournals and Myspace diary entries floating around the internet, three wordpresses, and how can any self-respecting millennial forget Xanga? I never did much with any of them though. I never watered or played with them, or put on Baby Mozart to help them grow smart.
It is as if the tide rolls in with all of these exciting new ideas, and then it rolls out again. I had such high hopes for every single one of those baby blogs. Thank God this didn’t translate to real children. I would have literally 23 children and they would all have to fend for themselves.
But like every new baby, being birthed from my brain ovaries (what?), I hope for the best. This one is fully, 100% dedicated to my trials and tribulations of getting over to Hamburg, Germany. Not just getting there, but once getting there figuring out how to STAY there.
(Image from travel-to-Hamburg.com, DUDE I’m trying already)
Right now I’m a jobless, single, forever-chubby lady of Seattle, WA. After graduating school (late, I’m 29), I decided to be extremely proactive and apply for a bunch of stuff. Let’s look at the series of rejection letters of just this past week alone, shall we?
Ohhhhh, 4 in one week! I feel like the luckiest girl in the WORLD.
With me so far? Great. Get out a piece of paper, this next part requires some math.
So, let’s say I apply for a bunch of jobs per week for the past three months. And each week I get 2-4 rejection letters. Add one failed OKcupid date per week. Stir it in a simmering pot of depression, anxiety, and despair. Add 20 pounds of comfort pastries. This equals a cesspool of discontentment so overwhelming that crying became an Olympic sport for me. I should have added this skill set to my resume. Cry over a group of mothers chatting about babies? Check. Cry over an apple fritter? Check. Cry over a blank wall? You bet! I’m your gal!
So, why Hamburg, Germany? The biggest and most honest reason is that a lady from my high school is paving her way through Hamburg as we speak, teaching English to adults.
After absolutely no consideration at all, I asked her, “GIRL. ON A SCALE OF 1-10 HOW MUCH WILL YOU HELP ME GET TO HAMBURG PLEASE HELP I THINK I’M DYING”, I waited with baited breath. If she said at least a 7, I’m jumping into this. She said 14. Hallelujah!
So, I bought an one way ticket, am actively getting rid of 95% of my things I’ve accumulated over my time in Seattle, writing heartfelt goodbye letters to the people who have come to put up with me over the years, and finally deactivated my OKcupid account with no intention of reactivating it 3-5 days later.
I also applied to a massive amount of English teaching schools in Hamburg, determined that I will not be phased by such rejections I’ve been experiencing in the past.
BUT DUDES, I didn’t have to. I have 8 interviews scheduled as soon as I get into Hamburg. WHY HOW WHO WHAT ME HOW WHAY WHA WAAAAA.
Dudes, I have never owned a blazer before. I better consult my personal styling assistant. Just kidding, I’m still jobless and poor. Good one, Sarah, thanks Sarah.
And sure, they may take one look at my pastry-filled husky frame and reject me (Those Europeans are really posh) but the fact that I get to attempt my charms in person, versus these bland rejection letters before meeting is enough to make me optimistic.
Hamburg, here I come already.
NEXT WEEK: Road Trip to My Mothers House To Drop Off My Junk