Monday, September 14, 2015

To Whom It May Concern:

I'm still not confident on when it is appropriate to use "whom" instead of "who" but I will still claim to have strong written and verbal communication skills. The fact is, I need this job and I am hoping as a hiring manager, you take this as a sign I can at least google how to write a cover letter. I didn't list it on my Skills section, but Googling is how I obtained most skills, not college. I do know how to work Microsoft Word though. I'm not 80.

I see that your company can provide me with more money than I currently make unemployed. So I am applying because I have a bachelor's degree and almost no professional experience but I need you to look past that. I just need health insurance. I know I'll have to work with people who have had this job before you needed a degree, teach them to work Powerpoint, and pretend to give a fuck about their pet. I do not like pets. But I can fake it, like I will fake it through the first 6 months of this job that I am miserably under-qualified for. Honestly though, if you could at least give me an interview, my mom would be so happy. I smile so big when I'm nervous you'll probably hire me out of pity anyway.

Did you see my cell phone number? And my email address? And my mom's cell phone number? And my sister's house address? I'll put it down one more time in case you missed them. Feel free to contact me at your earliest convenience. Please email me, send a carrier pigeon, or text me at 2 am when you're drunk. I won't mind. Until then, I am going to finish this coffee and desperately stumble through online advertisements, attach the incorrect cover letter, submit it, realize my mistake and proceed to the wine in the fridge. 

i h8 myslf.

Monday, August 10, 2015

175. Surprise!

I've been hungry for the kind of hugs you receive when you walk in the door of someone who misses you. The people who make you cry from remembering how much you're loved. A city is just a city without those moments.

From family reunions and one side of the country to another, I am finally home... and for good. I guess I'm still trying to find exactly what "home" is. My mom is selling my childhood home, which is hella depressing, but also completely nessecary. We are made of the same cloth, hungry for adventure. Living as a nomad for over a year is tiring, now I am ready for a purpose. 

I am excited to have a career job, an apartment (preferably near a good coffee shop), a gym membership and a favorite bartender again. I've found that although each person in your life story has a purpose for you, they can't be your purpose. 

I am looking forward to having something to say. As much as I need love, I need growth. I need knowledge. I need to read, taste, touch and feel. I think that's what I wanted out of my adventure, a selfish year (and then some) to figure out what I had to say. 

This is it. 

Clichés are only clichés until you live them to your truth. 
You can't run from depression.
Love isn't all you need.
It is too much to ask for one person to fill all your buckets and be your world.
Living with regrets may help you fuck up less in the future.
Taking a risk is worth it, but be honest with yourself. 

And most of all: trust your own judgement. 

I thought talking about personal issues to everyone you meet at the bar was just like... an extrovert thing? I crave the opinions of others so someone will eventually just validate the opinion I already have. Turns out, not an extrovert thing. It's a confidence thing. I've never had to rely on myself so much as I have on this wonderful adventure. I've always had my mom or best friends to help me cope. When I couldn't emotionally articulate myself to people in either hemisphere, I just had to trust myself. I've honestly never been more proud of myself and the decisions I have made, and for once, I don't have to explain myself to anyone. I guess except you... because you're reading this... so I already am. 
I'm not waiting on the comments. 

I'm just here to say, "Good job Sadie, You're growing up. Now get a fuckin job."

Wednesday, July 1, 2015


 The hardest part of being away is the major lack of girl friends in my life. I have plenty of good people around and nice folks I spend time with, but up until now no one to call up and meet for a drink. I have been pretty low the past month, but these past two weeks I can really feel myself come out of the sadness, the longing hasn't left me though.

It really makes you question, what are the ingredients for a happy life?
Friends, family, locations, job, money?? Do we move on? Do we stand still? Grow or retreat?

Well tonight I have a friend and we are bowling and it makes me happy.
So at least I have the questioned answered for one more day.

Sunday, June 14, 2015

108. Nothing to write home about.

That is the reason it has been almost a month since I've written. 
Two part problem: "Nothing" and "to write home". 

The nothings I have: No friends. No hair straightener. No girl's nights. No birthday parties. No family reunions. No car. No concerts with my sister. No BBQ's with my brothers. No goals. No s'mores. No money. No purpose. No idea what to do next. No answer to, "How is Australia?" or "How long will you be around?" No real conversations. 

So many nothing conversations and nothing days. I meet new people daily but have the same conversations with them all. They start with applauding me for being young and adventurous, then ask me how I like it. I keep it as generic as possible. Once I get past my explanations, how I met my boyfriend, what I did back home, what I plan to do here... we spend the last part of our interaction shitting on America: our accents, our healthcare, our education and gun obsessed Christian loonies. It exhausting to try to belong when deep down, you know it isn't where you want to be. Even though you want to want it. Some people say that a lack of interest is a sign of depression... but don't worry, it's just the nothing.

Then writing home... well it just reminds me of everything I am missing. I can't live in two world at once, one world always suffers. I could spend all day writing and reading and lapping up the details of the day-to-day life of whatever I am missing. That's honestly what I want to do. But then I am not  living in either world. Home tells me to stick to it, the happy part will come. Home tells me it will always be there. Home tells me it misses me. Home is each tear that I cry trying to find its way back.  Home sounds like Janis Joplin, Tina Turner and people remembering to talk in to your right ear. 

I am amazed I've been here 108 days. With each pay day I think to myself how I could leave the next morning and drink a bottle of wine on the front porch with my mom. But something on my walk home from work makes me smile, and I decide to try to fall in love with Sydney again tomorrow... until the next pay day comes. I think that's what living anywhere is all about, trying to make your nothing days into something days.

Object permanence.. knowing that when you open your eyes, everything will still be there, just the same as when you closed them. I just want to open my eyes to a life I recognize. Where I had friends close by and restaurants don't close so early in the city and there weren't so many opinions about what to do next with your life. 

This Billy Joel song found me three days ago, it burrowed a place in my chest and has stayed there, reminding me to breathe. I'm not sure why I find it so comforting or inspiring, but much like my dad, I've played it on repeat since then.  What is waiting for me?

Saturday, May 16, 2015

Day 65. Rosebery

I have an apartment*
I am working 4 days a week.
I have three friends of my own.

I'm not in love with Australia, but I am trying.

*Dave and I are sharing a room in Rosebery with his/our friend Tom. His roommate conveniently just moved out on the day we were both talking about needing to find a place to live. Dave got a super neat creative space in Rosebery to do his knife making. So if you want to send me mail my address is: 67 rothschild, rosebery, NSW 2018

I am so proud of Dave for following his dreams. As proud as I am, I still selfishly end up thinking of where I am at in following my own dreams and ambitions. Am I doing enough to feed my soul? To find my happy?

Monday, May 4, 2015

Day 53. Something For Jess

That's the cafe I work at now. Three days a week, $15/hour in cash (super low for Australia), free bomb-ass-lunch and coffee.

I thought I could be barista, that dream flew out the window, they coffee hardcore here. But my boss is teaching me slowly, day by day. The staff I work with are all very cool... excuse me, hip. I'm living in the pit of hip here in Newtown. Where I can't tell the homeless from the hipsters and everyone has a turntable.

The mornings start off inspired and excited. The evenings go back in to looking at the next flights home and applying for big girl jobs in Chicago. My theory was right: 1st month = everything is new and exciting, 2nd month = pushing through being homesick and settling in, #rd month = deciding if I want to stay.

I guess I will take it pay day to pay day. Then I can always go to Thailand the next day.

That's my life right now.

Thursday, April 30, 2015

Day 46 Homesick.

Actually day 40-46 has been homesick.

But let me start from back when I wasn't homesick. When I was doing amazing things in Cairns, when I snorkeled with Nemo, a barracuda and a shark. When I jumped off a 60 m tower. When I was laying in the sun with friends and didn't get a sunburn! Cairns was amazing, surrounded my mountains and rain-forest, it was like a better version of Florida. If I hadn't booked my plane ticket back to Sydney, I would've stayed longer. 

But now I am at the point of my trip I have been dreading... should I stay or should I go? 

I am back in Sydney. It is cold here. I am sick and I have applied to more than 20 jobs with no avail. I wanted to rent my own apartment because I am tired of living out of a backpack. I can't afford that though. I am running down to my last couple hundred dollars before I dip in to the New Zealand/Asia fund. So if I get a job, it will be 6 more months in Australia then two months traveling. If I don't get a job within the week. I really need to keep moving. 

Since I got here, the more people I met made me question: Why not stay for a whole year? Everyone else is doing it. I am strong enough to do it. I can get a job. I can make friends worth staying for, can't I? But I met a girl today and for the first time someone said, "Why does everyone stay here? You don't have force yourself to stay here to get the experience.'' Identifying what I have felt: that Australia is like America, except without the majority of the people I love. I am not convinced I want to stay here anymore.

Am I not giving it enough of a chance? Should I make a life for myself here and then leave in 6 months? What is the point of that? Do I go back home and get a job with only two weeks vacation? What is the point of that? 

Then I end at the oh-so-pleasant: WHAT AM I HERE FOR? WHAT IS MY PURPOSE IN LIFE? HOW DO I HUMAN?

Healthy right?

I guess what I really need to ask is what do I want out of Australia? Have I gotten it already? Is it time to move on? There is still adventure to be had in America. With all the people in my life I miss. 

Half of this blog post is questions. 
I don't know where to find the answers. 

I am going back to watching 'Pimp My Ride" with the other travelers who don't know what they're doing.