"As a Woman I have no country. As a Woman my country is the Whole World."

I found this a few weeks ago while 'googling' quotes. This is something I do occasionally because...well, I have no idea. I love quotes and I especially love them when they were originally said by people I admire (or people I despise). If you can make me stop in my tracks and re-evaluate my entire day/life/purpose in a mere sentence, that is awe-inspiring.

"As a Woman I have no country. As a Woman my country is the Whole World." -Virginia Woolf

Not only am I a HUGE fan of Virginia Woolf, I love the concept that by just being a woman I am able to claim the world as my oyster, my ancestry, my partner. I am not cornered into one power-hungry nation because my parents and grandparents were here. I also love that this thought means that I am not to be labeled by my nationality, for I am a World Citizen. Not an American...nor a French Citizen, Brit, German...etc. I am of the world.

This is fitting seeing as I yearn to flee the country of my birth (although, I admit...it's harder to leave now that Barack Obama is in office.) for something more old world. A place where intellect is valued and the phrase "git r done" does not exist. Sometimes I like to blame the destruction of the world on Larry the Cable Guy. It soothes me.

Yes, there are things I will miss. I am so excited to give up my car, but I know there will be times when I don't want to lug groceries home on the bus. I will want Taco Bell. Frequently. However, when you find the place you belong...are you willing to do anything to get back there? Is it possible to love a land that should be foreign to you more than you love the soil you step on everyday?
I say yes. After all...I am a citizen of the world, not of one country. Kudos Virginia.

Wilkommen, Bievenue, Welcome

In lieu of attempting to be creative and unique about something I've been going on about for almost a year--I've decided to steal my first Open Salon post and slap it up here (with some edits, natch.) Enjoy...

I have never been one to blog frequently. Although an avid writer all my life, once I made it to the pubescent age all my thoughts or whims of pride about writing seemed to fly right out the window along with my self-esteem. A common occurence for a teenage girl and a strict right of passage I might add. That being said, I have started reading blog entries lately of all kinds. Extended family members who I've never really known; Politicians and political analysts who have nothing better to do; Friends from college and those who were not friends. In my last year of college I took a multimedia writing course in which we were forced to blog about our projects. While the blogging became annoying and cumbersome as it was for a grade and not for pure, unadulturated release...I will say it piqued my interest. That being said, here I am prepared to lose my Blog Virginity and stand naked in front of the cyber world.

I am in transition. I graduated from college in May 2008 and with most of the country, thanks to the last 8 years of inefficiency, I was without a job and without a plan. While I had originally planned to go to Graduate school, I found myself torn when the acceptance letters actually came. I had spent the last 16 of my 22 years on this Earth in a classroom, writing papers for other people and learning about what other people had done. I wanted to do something for myself.

I have an English degree. No, I do not want to be a writer. No, I do not want to be a teacher. I want to publish books. I want to give the world access to the next literary mind and I want to rub elbows with said mind and have them on my Facebook friend's list and actually know them. And, if by spending my life in these kind of intellectual circles I develop enough courage and drive to actually write a novel myself, so be it. I knew all this when I was 20. That was when I entered my second year of college, switched my major from Political Science (although the switch also has to do with my over-opinionated mouth and the knowledge that I could never, ever back a Republican/Conservative government) to English. This was in large part to the amazing English department at my University (www.wvu.edu) and their Professional Writing and Editing program. Finally! A path for those interested in English but not in teaching. A blessing for sure.

So, back to May 2008 and I'm jobless. Prior to graduation I attended a career fair in NYC where I had hoped to at least get my foot in the door somewhere in the city where I wanted to be. The city where the great books are published. That was the day I learned I should've majored in Comm. or Engineering. For all recruiters out there: Look at the English major. I may not have taken communications credits, but I can write with proper spelling and grammar and I can still verbally communicate as well. Please do not disregard us, it's very disconcerting. I debated the Peace Corps and Teach for America with serious thought and might very well be pursuing those at this date if other opportunities had not arose.

I eventually got work with a temp agency making decent money (definitely more than I ever earned in college) and decided to take one year to find my true path. It is now January 2009 (edit-it is now March, but you get the point) and I am on that path and counting down the days until it becomes a reality. In 204 (146) days (yes, I am actually counting) I will be leaving the USA and moving to England to study Publishing in Oxford, the actual publishing Mecca.

I did a study abroad internship in London, UK while in school. I knew from, well about day 5, that London was my home. For the past 10 years I had been convincing myself and anyone who would listen that I belonged in NYC. However, after three months in London I knew where I really belonged. I strolled down cobblestone streets in my rainboots with a glowing smile. My hair-always prone to frizz in the rain and/or heat and/or anything really-never looked better. I lost 20 pounds. I made great friends. I did it all on little to no money and it was fantastic.

It was this amazing turn of events in my life that caused me to have such a catastrophic break down post-graduation. Did I want to study composition and rhetoric in Virginia? No. Did I want to swing myself onto the bottom rung of the publishing intern totem pole in NYC? Well, sort of. And, while I had about two interviews for some intern positions in NYC I can see now that I sabotaged them. I had settled on a plan even if my brain hadn't actually been made aware of it yet. I was fleeing the country for greener and better suited pastures.

I began work in healthcare because it was all I could get in an unstable economy. It's a global company that has offices everywhere. I began to see some paths forming for me. I stayed in the town I had gone to college in despite never wanting to be that person. I moved in with my boyfriend into a one-bedroom (insert family gasps here) apartment with our two cats and set up house. I bought myself a "Europe on a budget" book and began to map out a backpacking tour. I reinstated my Grad school search but this time limited it to another country. I immersed myself in work, planning, seeing college friends.

I began another round of Grad applications. Contacted the professors that had written my recommendations and asked for more. I passed around my application essay to my colleagues to get their opinions and unintentionally made everyone around me extremely jealous. Not to brag.

I was accepted into grad school for the fall 2009 semester. At the end of July, a little more than a year since graduating college, I will turn in my company badge and walk away from the town that I've spent the last 5 years in. The friends that I've made and the experiences I've had. I'll leave the boyfriend and the two cats and the one bedroom apartment for a flatshare with strangers and one long month of solitary backpacking.

I can't wait.