Last time I posted on this blog I said I would tell you, as soon as I know, where I am headed after this year.
And I'm so close to knowing! Here's what happened. I applied to JVC Northwest for an additional year, did three interviews, and was matched with a potential placement. Oh, what a good placement it is. I want to write about it. But I haven't heard back yet from my potential future supervisor if he wants me for the spot. So, I'm going to wait until it's definite before writing about it here.
Instead, I'll write about a new book I've been reading. A series of books, actually. A young adult series called The Hunger Games. I am the last person in my house to read these books, and at first I definitely didn't want to. The print is large, the final book came out just last year, and I didn't want to waste my time wading through three volumes of the latest cheap-thrill book fad. Right?
Wrong, as I learned when I stayed up until 4:30 am last Saturday reading the first book. Yes, these books will probably never be regarded as classics of American literature, but I recently read one of those, David Copperfield, and was underwhelmed. That's a book I had to wade through. In contrast, I have cried, actually cried, while reading The Hunger Games. I've also had a lot of fun reading it. And I have to admit I know exactly what Stephenie Meyer is talking about when she wrote (and it shows up on the back cover of the books) "even after I was finished, I just lay in bed wide awake thinking about it." I still have no desire to read Meyer's books, but in this I can sympathize. My housemate Jen has said she thinks I should choose books that I actually enjoy reading instead of books - let's see, my last one was All Quiet on the Western Front - that I choose because, to be perfectly honest, I want to be able to say I've read them. Well, not entirely. If they're famous books, I reason, there has got to be something worth reading in there, right? And often, there is. But it is a lot more fun to be totally riveted, wondering what's going to happen next, rather than wonder how many more pages I have to read until the chapter is over. I finished the third and final book today, and I started the series eight days ago, if that tells you anything.
But back to this potential new position. Since I don't want to reveal it entirely in case it doesn't work out, I'll just say that I would be outdoors. I would also be closer to home, which is wonderful. I've learned that the Northwest is, for me, home. Probably Oregon, specifically, but I'm not sure about that yet. All I know is that this year is the longest time I've spent outside of the Northwest, and even though I've loved it and Tucson feels comfortable and familiar and has grabbed my heart a little, I don't see myself staying here. In fact, if I had to bet now, I would bet that I'll end up in the Northwest. When that is, however, I can't predict. Probably not next year, even if I do move back for an additional year with JVC. The thing is, I still have the travel bug. I want to see new places. That's why part of me doesn't want to go back to the Northwest but instead wants to convince my friend David to quit his job so we both can travel around the world (disregarding, of course, the obvious: that I don't have much money after a year of volunteer service and still have student loans to think about). Luckily, there's enough novelty to this position - I would be doing something I've never really done before - that I think I would be able to reconcile these two desires. I would be closer to my home, to those I care about, to those who know me best. At the same time I would be exploring, not unfamiliar countries, but unfamiliar situations and circumstances. and yet challenged by new situations. Perfect. Or, at least close.
So, I'll tell you when I hear back....
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