You Do You 101

I've had this thing for voicemails, lately. They feel sincere, spontaneous, old-fashioned -- like a personal message in a bottle of sorts. To me, they're like the original gangsta of Snapchat or the progressive form of a postcard. Both comparisons that are probably quite wrong, but feel so right to me.

So this is me, leaving you a voicemail. Just to, you know, say hi.

It's September. One year since I (officially) moved back to San Francisco. September, which marks summer's close and always feels strangely like the start of a new year. We're only nine months late...casual.

The world is a topsy turvy place these days. And I've woken up eight out of seven days this week, trying to understand the long & short of it. Ya feel me?

In actuality, I figured out none of it. Ate a biscuit sandwich the size of my face. And decided to spend Sunday writing. So then, here we are.

Yesterday, someone asked me about the best things I've learned in the past year of life. I considered telling them how to find the best taco place in San Francisco (Tacorgasmico). Or how to cure the hiccups (no joke!). Or how to ask someone on a date via napkin (real story).

Instead, I simply said that the most important thing I've learned in the past year has been the golden rule all along --- You do you.

Truth is, I think we only know a few things to be true and many more to be false. That's a nice way of saying that we know, well...jack shit!

But we find an occasional bit of verity when reading between the lines of fact & fiction.

I feel crazy writing this, but hear me out. I've had this funny thought at top of the brain lately--this thought that all we are is who we've always been.

Simply put, what we do changes throughout life. When, where, and how we do it changes.  But who we are never actually changes. And really, we've known that all along.

Think about it. You are the same person today that you were when you were a kid. Maybe now, you know more things about things. . . You've read. Changed your hair once, twice, thrice.

Found a vibe; found a tribe. Listened to a song a thousand times, then forgotten about it. Only to revel in its rediscovery. You've had experiences. Fallen in love with someone or something. And then fallen out of it.

But whether 18 or 80, you will always be you. The same quirks. Same dimpled smile. Same head & heart. The same person. We don't really think about this; we just do it.

So me? In the last year, I've learned I'm a maker and an old soul. Bold, ballsy, & gutsy to fault. I like boots made for walking and dresses made for doing. Preferably altogether. I like people who dream BIG and dance like they mean it. Because otherwise, why bother (really!)

I know I'm forever hungry and forever foolish, trying to find the intersection of passion x purpose. Somewhere between food, urban innovation, health, and technology. Whatever it is, I care deeply that it matters in the world. And that it's all about the people.

This all sounds like common sense, until you realize that distilling "what makes you, you" into a few sentences is a lot easier from an outsider's perspective. It's funny, of course, that our friends/family probably guessed who we are. Even before we guessed it ourselves.

They've guessed what you like, what you don't like. They've known that you prefer cheese to pepperoni or pepperoni to cheese. That you're an extrovert or introvert or something like that. That you're a hugger or not a hugger or somewhere in between.

It's taken time to begin understanding that we are who we are. That this is me. That for better or for worse, this is who we've been all along.

Turns out though, vulnerability is no joke. For me, it's taken one year of audacious highlights and unwieldy lowlights and 27 revisions of writing to tell you all of this. Sloooooow and steady wins the dang race, don't we know it.

Who you are is a whole different shabang than who I am. Because that's life in its curious mix of science and inscrutable magic.

Whatever this year has been to you though, I hope you did it big. That you celebrated the small victories; faced the failures with grace; and shared a bigass pan of brownies with friends to weather both.

I hope you took a trip somewhere that knocked your socks off and that you listened to some of what your parents said...but maybe not all of it. And I hope you spent it with people who are the best of the best.

But whether you did all of it or none of it, I hope there was only one golden rule:

You do you.

5 Things Learned from a Weekend in New York

I'm the girl flying on a swing in New York with an everything bagel in one hand...and a reckless disregard for limits in the other hand.

The California kid who is young, wild, and maybe a little too free for her own good. The spontaneous traveler who has a Mary Poppins bag. The wanderer who doesn't race against time, but right along with it.

Can we talk about New York City? IT'S WACKY. But ahem, good wacky.  A chaos of urban mankind that is (dis)organized just so. It has an energy about it.

And I'm hopelessly smitten.

That makes total sense, if we don't think about it for too long. Cut me some slack, and let's do this Sunday thing:

1. /// We talked a lot about passion & purpose this weekend. About discoveries found and love lost.

Don't freak out about this! We're allowed to be human. The sum of these conversations shows us how a person can be your anchor and axis. But also how the absence of such a person can throw you off balance. It's true - we're all just trying to make it! To keep our balance, in spite of the curveballs up life's sleeve. To feel like what we're doing = what we love in some way, shape, or form.

For me, short trips are a subtle reminder of all this. It's a hint at what and who matter most to us. The urgency of time means that conversations tend to dive beneath surface level chatter. I hope you know how much I appreciate these conversations.

I left New York City today, smiling but also wistful and wondering if this was the one that got away.

If this feels a lot like vulnerability, that's because it is. The truth is bonkers scary! Let it be.

2. /// It's hard not to compare San Francisco and New York.

I'm particularly guilty of this, fo'real! The two harbor similarities, which make it easy to pit the cities against one another.

Butttttt it's still all sorts of apples : oranges. To compare them is to compartmentalize two anomalies.  Well, tits man. We can do mo'bettah :)

3. /// A bit about career & the job world. 

Everyone I know seems to be hunting for a job or starting a new one. I feel you, friends! Naturally, this is a hot topic 'on the noggin. It's a whole lot to wrap your head around! I wrote Chapter One-and-a-Half  as a sort of response to the question, "So what are you doing with the rest of your life?" I wrote because I was feeling the pressure of uncertainty and discomfort that comes with not knowing what comes next. New York, I've begun to realize, is a magnet for those figuring out what's next.

Note: The only thing I purport to know certainly is that I don't know anything for certain. It's like we're all looking for that singular "right answer" -- only to realize there is no one right answer. To all on this Struggle Bus, here's a few other pieces of perspective I've found helpful:

• A Georgetown Jesuit's Answer to "What Career is Right for You?  - For me, this is about reflection, not religion.
• Why We Strive - A more abstract take on what drives us.
• A Life Beyond "Do What You Love" - For a contrary opinion to the popular admonition that we should do what we love.

4. /// I'm a go-getter who likes to get to the go!

{skip if you don't care about places to go in NYC}. Before leaving for the weekend, I asked friends near and far for their go-to grinds in the Big Apple. I traipsed around NYC both solo and in good company. In case you're headed to the city soon, here's my own shortlist of awesome:

• Brooklyn Waterfront, Pier 2 (Brooklyn): My new favorite place in New York. On Sundays, Smorgasburg is held here. It's nature x kickback, design x big-kid-at-heart playgrounds. And on a sunny day, I promise you that there is abso-freaking-lutely nothing better. Good vibes through the roof!
• Brooklyn Bagel Co (Chelsea, multiple locations): I'm a bagel snob. And I'm here to tell you that this Everything bagel + cream cheese is  the best bagel in NYC. It's a game changer. And would I lie to you about this? I think you know the answer to that.

• The High Line (Chelsea): The walk I'll never tire of. It's a wonderful place to wander. Or a choice locale to hangout with friends.
• Num Pang (Midtown East, multiple locations): Order the coconut tiger shrimp banh mi sandwich, if you know what's good for you.
• El Almacen (Brooklyn): My first ever Argentine restaurant. Ambiance to write home about. Meat lover's paradise.
• Long Island City Waterfront (LIC) - Best kept secret. Take the ferry and go at night -- it's a breathtaking view with a million twinkling lights.

{{Continue New York City recommendations HERE}}

5. /// Have friends, will travel.

This is one of life's magical bottom lines. High fives to the homies who got your back, no matter where you go. "Making the effort" is a big time player on the F*CK YES list.  Appreciation is easier said than done for most. So to all the friends who housed, helped, hi'd, hey'd, hungout with, and hugged me this weekend -- thanks for being RAD. You're totally the real deal.

I hope your weekend was super swell and that your Monday isn't too daunting!

This week might get a littttttle out of hand. And that's okay. We might struggle a bit to find our balance -- our person, our career path, our whatcha-ma-callit...chill time?! The humanity of New York can attest that we're not alone in trying to figure it all out.

Let's just take this whole dang enchilada one day at a time. And remember that anything is possible with an everything bagel in hand.

The State of September

Can we admit that we're totally doggie paddling through September? I can't find a #2 pencil to save my life. Chipotle is turning into a food group. Oops-I-did-it-again 3am bedtimes are, well, oops. And then there's this maniac muffin bender.

I mean, if honesty is the best policy, let's just throw it aaaallllll out there. Really, I'm not above it.

This is the State of September. Reporting live from Senioritis-ville, USA.

I hope this pops over to greet you on a mellow Wednesday. If you're reading this, consider us friends. Because we can! If you're reading this, I hope you give a holler. That you tell me what's up and give me the lowdown.

I might call you after this, or you might send a message using what many'a Mom/Dad keep calling "that texting thing." They might send it in ALL CAPS or with 10 pictures of Uncle Hank's new goldfish or with their signature at the end "-Mom / -Dad." Just in case you forgot it was them.

Okay, so we may all be doggie paddling. Mom/Dad included.

Embrace this hot mess of a mid-week night's dream. Tell me about yours.

Here's mine:

• A year ago I was in France. And now, I’m officially a French minor. Which may or may not be translated as a sign to future people-who-care that I speak “croissant” fluently. It's a fact, but I still Can't Believe It's Not Butter.

• Nomad is fast becoming my middle name. I’ve moved back and forth 14 times in the past 3 years. Exploring is my nirvana! But being in a constant state of on-the-go makes permanence of place feel elusive. Everywhere is new and exciting but never truly yours. After 7 years, I finally made a room my own.

It’s not so much defined by place as it is by the essentials – the salt and pepper of my life. Ya know what’s a mind-bender? Figuring out what your personality would look like if boiled down to a design. Mine is minimalist, green and verdant. Vaguely reminiscent of the borderline between Earth and ocean. Like the outdoors...but indoors.

• You know by now that the Farmers' Market is my happy place. Yo, wanna know a secret? Food-loving as I may be, it's not the food that gets me. It's the universal language behind it. Do you see those smiles on other people’s faces? That’s why I’m smiling.

• My voice straight PEACED out this weekend. Losing my voice is aggravating and infuriating and inefficient...but oddly welcome.

Real talk: Losing your voice may very well be the universe’s clue to shut up and listen. Because that's how the cookie crumbles. Life is lived and played both silly and reckless. Jumping into traditions and throwing in a come-to-Jesus every now and then for good measure.

• I’m hit by a craving of real intellectual engagement. That's not a snub to Georgetown, as this article might suggest. It's just me...doing me. I’m considering learning Spanish via Duolingo. And maybe a crash course in coding via Code Academy too. Heyo!

• Songs? Song for Zula (Phosphorescent) and this end-of-summer mixtape

•  I'm reading Me Before You. (Kindle is a gamechanger!) The book reminds me of this. Because scary as death appears, it reminds us how to live.

Wednesday just got 10 feet deeper. Just keep swimming?

I'll be the girl rightttttt over thereeee. You know --- the one doggie paddling right there with you.

love & other hugs, l

Bonjour from Nantes

After spending 10 days in the south of France, I'm finally "home" and settled in with my host family at Nantes. Between driving 10 hours yesterday; tackling mobile phone policies in French this morning; and moving in with my host family tonight, I'm just about falling asleep typing this. This may be thoughtful, or it may just be half-asleep. Bear with me? Let's do it quick and dirty, (because we can).

I stumbled into the study abroad center building in Nantes around 4:30 this afternoon and started to feel a touch of nervousness bubbling up. It's not a feeling that comes around often. I'm generally sure-footed, trusting myself enough to know that I can figure it out.

But that's in English. French is a completely different ballgame. Words in French sweep into one another, like a blindingly fast sing-song. I can usually catch words and phrases for near certain, but there are some lost in translation. I know this worry is part of the experience - the growing pains in learning a language - but I wouldn't dare tell anyone that uncertainty is comfortable.

I've begun to realize that the ability to use language, and use it well, is one of my most unconscious advantages. In the States, I'm able to explain, to understand, to respond, to persuade, to charm. But here, much of that advantage is lost. I can convey fact and opinion in French, but persuasion and charm are still locked culture and colloquialisms. It's a beast to tackle, but I suppose that's the challenge.

Day 2 tomorrow. Formal orientation begins, and I meet the rest of the students in my study abroad program.