When this year began, there were a lot of things I’d never done before. I’d never spent more than two weeks outside the United States. I’d never been left to my own devices with a classroomful of children. I’d never lived in a real city (sorry, Tulsa). I’d never been to Asia. I’d never held a full-time job. I’d never had a boyfriend. I’d never kissed a guy. So, yes, as should be obvious by this point, I’ve experienced a lot of firsts this year.
I’m not sure how anyone else’s 2013 went, but mine was pretty fantastic, if I do say so myself. People seem commonly to arrive at year’s end and experience mostly mixed sentiments. To be honest, I don’t really understand why. I’ve long believed that one of the principal keys to, if not happiness, then contentment is the robust management of expectation.
The days are getting shorter and the air is growing crisp. I love that word, crisp. Want to know a word I don’t like? Autumn. What a useless, unromantic, pseudo-sophisticated sounding word. “Spring” so perfectly captures the essence of the sudden gushing forth of life following its long, dreary winter dormancy, and in a way that “autumn” can never even approach for the season properly known as the Fall. Ah, there we go: the Fall; life’s realization that winter’s encroach is nigh and then its slow, symphomic tumble to the Earth below in peaceful resignation. Sure, the leaves are dying, but have you ever appreciated how happily they do it? They deck themselves in such gay colors as to make my queer heart approach jealousy and glimmer so glamorously as to make even the sternest curmudgeon soften if only a little. If only all life were as beautiful at the moment of death, then maybe we wouldn’t dread it so.
Confession: I’ve never really had a firm grasp of what I wanted to do with my life. Shocking, I know, because I’m pretty sure all (or most) twenty-something college grads who randomly move to Korea know the answer to that question. The name of my blog, random though its inception may have been, has become a “profound” question of sorts–what does it mean to be “roygeneable”? Hell if I know, and that’s the point: I’m looking for something that’s roygeneable, that’s me. Of course, I’ve always had a lot of options and a lot of different things I found mildly interesting. Teaching was probably at the top of that very long list, but it definitely wasn’t and isn’t anything I would call a “passion.” A great many of the people I know really like using that word and its meaning has unfortunately been numbed–sort of like the word “love.” I became an ESL teacher because I needed something fun to do for a few years where I could make good money and pay off loans. The job is terrific, but it’s not even remotely something I’d want as a career.