Baby's first blog post.

Hi, world.

(I assume that for at least the first few weeks of this blog's existence the "world" to which I refer is rather limited. To say the least. Probably limited to...only my sister. Nevertheless....Hi, limited world.)

I'm not really sure what shape this blog is going to take. I am only sure of one thing; I need something to do. For the first time in years I have no agenda, and no obligations. College took the better part of six years, thanks to six straight semesters of aimless wandering between not only majors, but colleges and even U.S. states. For six years, I always took a full class load and managed to work (waiting tables) for anywhere between 32 and 60 hours per week.

In an effort to remain seemingly gracious, I will only go so far as to say that waiting tables was not my dream job. It was a means to an end...but, what was the end?

This is where I give you a brief introduction to myself, and what events in my life have brought me to this point.

I was in England over christmas, taking a much-needed three week break from work, when it suddenly occurred to me that I had overshot the end part of "means to an end." For 4 years (the duration of my time in Grand Rapids, Michigan) I had repeated that phrase to myself every time I served a difficult table or was left with a undeservedly terrible tip, this job is a means to an end. I was sitting on my boyfriend's red couch in Essex, England eating mince pies (homemade by yours truly and yours truly's boyfriend) when I realized that I had always known that my undesirable career choice was a necessary evil--the kind of necessary evil that one puts up with when one needs to put oneself through college. I realized that the college and waitressing career ends were supposed to be congruent. I realized that I hadn't made that happen. When it came down to it, I walked away from college with a BS in Art History, and in the seven months that followed I never managed to walk away from my putting-myself-through-college job.

The truth is, I had already been planning to move to the UK since last June (2010). The plan had been to move THIS June (2011). So there I was, in my boyfriend's living room, soon to be MY living room, about four days from being plopped back into the middle of the blizzard that they call January in Michigan. Four days from asking, "Is diet Pepsi okay?," when a business man orders a diet Coke. Four days from being a member of a wait-staff for another half-a-year.

I decided to do something rash. I opened up my pretentious computer (Macbook Pro, whaddup?) and I sent forth a proverbial BATMOM signal, in the form of an e-mail to my mother.

"Can I come home?" I asked. Home, as in Georgia. Sunny, warm, humid, snowless. Jobless.

The next morning, I received my reply.

"You're welcome home anytime."

So I went back to Michigan for as long as it would take me to sell everything I owned, whittling down my possessions to just what I could fit in my pretentious car (VW Jetta, whaddup?)

And now I'm in Georgia. Tan, scantily clad, sweaty, barefoot. Jobless. And likely to remain so for the next 8-12 months, until I can marry that crazy, wonderful Englishman. Until I have that visa, I can't work. Until I have citizenship, which won't be until our fourth wedding anniversary, I can't afford to further my education.


I am one month into not having a job, with 7-11 months to go. I am one year into not being in school, with at least 4-1/2 years to go. I am bored, and I have a long road of boredom ahead.

I have one marketable skill, and that is research. I'm DARN good at research. Unfortunately, I don't have the level of education that is required for a job in the field of research in art history. Until the day comes where I can waltz into a musée d'arte, armed with my masters or doctorate or both, and demand a low-paying, highly-rewarding job-of-my-dreams, I'm going to practice for that future.

I want to be a researcher. So I'm going to research. And that's about all I can say for sure in regards to this blog.

Good-bye, world. Good-bye, sister. I hope to be heard by you soon.

Laura