Sitting along the East River with the Brooklyn Bridge on my right and the Statue of Liberty on my left, I ponder the John Lennon lyric "life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans." I had a plan: move to New York, get a job and go to grad school (the latter depending on the former). Knowing that unemployment rates and the economy were the worst they'd been since the Great Depression, I arrogantly assumed that such statistics wouldn't apply to me because I was overqualified for the office jobs I was applying to, and I had a large and diverse network of New Yorkers pulling for me. So in January, I left Hawaii to pursue my dream of living in the Big Apple and have now, seven months later, found myself still without a job and a severely depleted savings.
I applied with multiple temp agencies, universities, countless postings forwarded by my network, and even Starbucks' through their online application, all without success. And I feel like I could have done more. Job-hunting in NYC is a unique experience. It seems for every position scores of more (overly) qualified candidates with JD's and PhD's as well as the inexperienced, more malleable recent graduates are applying--the different traits apparently appealing to different employers. Had my initial cockiness not blinded me to the truth of my situation, I would've been scouring Craig's List from the start, thought more creatively about my own abilities to broaden the types of jobs I was looking for, and found better ways to market myself.
Also gnawing at my mind is how much time I spent outside of the city. Even though job searching these days only requires a working internet connection to send out resumes and cover letters, it's hard to argue that leaving so much didn't, at least partially, take my head out of the game. However, I'm not upset I went. That time away was spent consoling a friend in Portland, attempting snowboarding in Syracuse, spending Passover with my parents in Connecticut, watching my brother graduate from college in Hawaii, and fishing with my boyfriend in Alaska. (The generosity of friends and family often made these trips more economically viable than staying in the city--a very expensive place.)
As the title of this blog Vacilanda and its meaning indicate, I understand the value of "the journey." However, New York was a destination that mattered, and one in which I was ready to settle down. I haven't given up on that plan. For now, I'll go back to Hawaii and regroup. I'll take some courses at the University of Hawaii to create a more competitive application and reapply to the programs that most interest me. I'll spend quality time with my 2-year old nephew, whom I miss and my 3-month old niece, whom I have yet to meet. And there's a chance I'll get my old job back and be able to take on more responsibility there. Honestly, Hawaii is the best fallback an unemployed person could hope for, and New York will still be here when I'm ready to give it another shot.
With boxes of my stuff already on their way across a continent and half an ocean, I have reservations but few regrets. I put in a solid effort to make a life for myself in NY and fell in love with the City all over again; from the museums and lectures to the picnics in the park and bars with friends... heck, I even enjoyed grocery shopping and going to the laundromat simply because it was a reminder that I lived in New York. The city of internationalism, competition, grit, and glamour--and I was a part of it.
As I gaze longingly at Manhattan's famous towers of glass and concrete, I think back on the past seven months and can only be happy with and grateful for the life that happened while I was making other plans.
