Off to Neverland

*pic from New York Times article "What Is It About 20-Somethings?"

Have you read this? It's been atop the NY times most emailed list of articles for several days now, and I can certainly see why.

Stuffy old people are just fascinated with why 20-somethings wont grow up'.

Yeah, I've seen the statistics, I understand the logic. People of youth these days are taking longer to become financially stable, start careers, get married and have children. They take longer to leave home, they go back more frequently even after doing so. We are over-coddled, over-loved, overindulged, and underestimated. True, true, true, most true.

This article chronicles the tales of so many examples of under-developed adults who "seem(s) to have gone off course, as young people remain un tethered to romantic partners or to permanent homes, going back to school for lack of better options, traveling, avoiding commitments, competing ferociously for unpaid internships or temporary (and often grueling)Teach for America jobs, forestalling the beginning of adult life."

Furthermore, the author goes on to spout endless statistics of how often people in their twenties move, how many times they change their jobs, how many romantic relationships they endure, and how old they are when they finally succomb to biology and get knocked up. ooops, I mean, decide to have children. Experts on sociology and psychology illustrate the idea that , in our society, the timeline for becoming an adult has changed. People are less focused on the traditional idea of when that age is appropriate. Then the article goes on to give X. Y, and Z reasons for why we are so stunted, what it will mean for future generations, and the pros and cons of this phenomenon, etc etc.

You, my friend, are going to hear my thoughts on the matter.

This generation was raised by a generation that was pressured to grow up. The baby boomers lived through a time where they were expected, in their early twenties, to take their place, fall in line, choose a career, stick to it, choose a spouse, stick with him/ her, have children, and basically be stuck for the rest of their lives. How sticky.

So how did that work out for everyone? I'm thinking not so hot. Our parents' generation, after all, made divorce acceptable and perhaps even righteous. They coined the term "mid life crisis". Suicide rates are through the roof and substance abuse runs rampant. From my own understandings, I have watched many an "adult" suffer through the choices that they made in their 20s, while telling themselves that they had to "grow up" and commit. So much dissatisfaction and turmoil seen now stems from seemingly iron clad commitments made in their twenties. Hmmmmm.

Well you know what? I'm not interested.

Yes, my generation is completely overconfident and gluttonous. Yes, we can't make adult decisions. Yes, we take longer to settle into what you old people call a "life routine." But it's because we have seen what our previous generation has been through with all of that, and it's not appealing. So who cares if we switch jobs 100 times in a decade? Who cares if we don't get married? Who cares if we don't have kids or a house or a 'stable routine'. Isn't it so awesome that we can spend the first years of our independence thrashing through, making mistakes, using trial and error, and figuring out who we are the kind of lives we really want for ourselves?

We've seen that other, mature, life. It sucks. I will choose adventure and the right to not commit to anything. Of course, I do own a house and all that that entails, but it's always negotiable. I never know when my house might be jettisoned for a beach hut in Australia, or a houseboat in the Maldives. I'm financially stable, but I won't commit to a career, I won't get married unless I can't stand not to, and I won't have children until my ovaries scream for them. I will relish in my lack of leashes and delight in my (no plan) plan. I will find joy all over this world and pray fervently for all of those who succumbed to the pressure of growing up, who jumped into a life they didn't choose, and whom can't remember why they are wearing a tie, are laying next to a person they married before they knew themselves, and are trapped in a cubicle for the sake for their retirement funds.

As my great hero Peter Pan says :

if growing up means it would be,

beneath my dignity to climb a tree,

ill never grow up, never grow up, never grow u-P, not me!

...and if it means I must prepare,

to shoulder burdens with a worried air,

i'll never grow up, never grow up, never grow u-P, so there.

'cause growing up is awfull-er,

than all the awful things that ever were,

i'll never grow up, never grow up, never grow u-P, no sir!

A Little Perk.

I like reading books that I know other people have read. I pay attention to reviews, I watch the best seller list, and I take personal recommendations seriously. That's why I was so tickled when I wandered into the Tattered Cover Bookstore in downtown Denver and came upon stacks and stacks of books with Post-its scattered all over, containing handwritten blurbs and recommendations by the staff. Makes me feel connected to the material, knowing someone else has connected with it. That's special.

oh for goodness sakes.

I like talking to strangers. It's interesting, educational, and self improving to reach out to someone unfamiliar. Plus, you just never know when someone you randomly meet is going to be supercool and teach you supercool things, or at least show you the other door into Narnia. Just sayin'.

I also sometimes lie to strangers. I don't know, call it my training for an inevitable Oscar-winning lead role in a film--someday. Despite the moral ramifications, I think it's entertaining to take on traits and stories that may belong to someone else. I'm not talking straight on multiple personalities; there's always some truth. But sometimes I stretch and reach in order to move conversations along, get people talking, manipulate the situation.

Gracious, I sound like a jerk. Well, there it is.

The flip side of this practice brings me to be wary of strangers and their truthfulness as well. The best example of this took place recently, on my flight from LA to Seattle, on the last leg of my trip home from China.

I am seated and situated in my place, greasy, exhausted and starving. This gangly, gaunt guy with little glasses and strawberry blonde hair comes tearing down the aisle, and already I am praying that he is seated either in first class or in a lavatory. He's loud, hollering at everyone he passes by and laughing at himself. He's obnoxious. As fate would have it, he plops his bony butt right next to me and makes some useless remark in my general direction.

I retort and pretend to be enraptured by my National Geographic. (I kind of was anyway,--the blue holes in the Bahamas! They're crazy!)

His reply? "Girl, you got game."

Oh great. A wannabe hiphop punk. I inch lower in my seat and gear myself up for what I am sure will be the longest flight of my life. He introduces himself, and I of course, give him my bar name-Emily.

After this initial thirty seconds, I am wholly convinced that this man is under the influence of more than just poor taste in graphic tees. He seems straight up tweaking. He continues to hammer on, showing me all of his iphone apps, making me listen to songs he's mixed, telling me that he wrote Gears of War 2, he had a best-selling novel, and that he works with Kanye West. He writes comic books, too and his bff is apparently someone named Snakebite, who used to play the drums/bass/triangle or something for Korn. Apparently he was down in LA to do some voiceover work for Gears of War 3 and then make appearances at Comic-Con to sign autographs. Huh.

So, I figure I can say whatever I want because I genuinely think he's toasted out of his mind. After the Gears of War factoid, I ask him this:

"So, how does it feel to be responsible for the demise of so many adult relationships and the developmental stunting of so many American men?"

I opened the flood gates. He starts in on the media, the male psyche, crazy babble I couldn't even take seriously. All the while he interjects this fascinating self report with quotes from rap songs, incessant snapping fingers/shoulder tapping, and telling me that everything I have said is "so next level". What's worse, he laughs at everything I say and keeps trying to convince me to create some kind of t-shirt company, marketing all of my "sick" quips. Oh Lordy.

We cover everything from relationships, video games, traveling, the linear nature of time, inner satisfaction, LA vs Seattle, food, and parents.

He tells me a lot. I think it's all horse crap. The clincher was when this fair skinned, light eyed, red haired man-boy told me he was half Mexican. I mean, come ON.

So of course after exchanging pleasantries, him telling me to start a blog (haha!) and me telling him I'll look for his next novel, we part ways after baggage claim. He hollers to contact him, just in case, I ever want to venture into something he can help with. Sure, buddy. As I'm waiting for my ride at the curbside, I dig for my phone out of my purse and google this guy. .....because I'm a girl of the 21st century and that's what we do.

Well Hell's bells. According to Wikipedia and all of the comic-geek websites, he was no liar. It was all true. Well crap. Now if I ever want to really contact him for a publishing deal like he gave me permission to, I'll have to admit my name isn't Emily and that he didn't really ruin a relationship of mine with video games.

Lesson learned. Probably.

PS- His suggested name for my likely-published-if-I-start-it blog? Putthehelmetdown.com. He shrieked it on the plane while I was telling him that human interaction isn't real when stifled through a headset. I was telling the boys of the world to put the helmet down and talk to someone for real. He thought it was so.... next level, of course.

The HK.

This separate post is no oversight on my part. It was no mistake that I did not include this section on my Hong Kong experience in the China portion of this blog-athon. In my humble (ha!) opinion, Hong Kong can barely be mentioned in the same breath as China. Yes, it's that different. Sure, the city is plagued by large quantities of black hair, small feet, and almond eyes, but please consider these:

Top Ten Reasons Why Hong Kong is so much better than China:

10. Efficiency: These people know how to gather and move. In high human traffic times, the metro stations route people appropriately as to avoid intersecting. Escalators change directions to accomodate more people traveling in certain directions, entrances and exits change to allow commuters to avoid moving against each other. Brilliant.

9. Chairman Who? Communism is subdued there. The governing bodies of HK are constantly battling with the Chinese in order to maintain the liberal and free thinking policies that were allowed while HK was on loan to the British for a century. Websites are unblocked, people protest in the streets, bookstores import literature freely.

8. The Food: I know I say this about every place that I like, but it's no coincidence. I like places with good food. Hong Kong is an international cuisine epicenter. Yum.

7. No Yellow Sea: I like that not everyone there is Asian. Call me racist, I just like a little variety. China is so solid yellow it makes me anxious.

6. Hustle Bustle: the air about the town is exciting. I like it. Big deals are being made, big fun is being had. It reminds me much of Manhattan in that manner.

5. Language un-barriered: Everyone there speaks English. Easy.

4. A major international city means that one could find just about anything you might desire either in store or online for comparable prices to the the States. China, not so much. My grandmother requests American Oil of Olay, because her neighborhood drugstore charges her double. Quelle ripoff.

3. There are options. The territory of Hong Kong consists of HK island, Kowloon side on the mainland, and a conglomerate of over 200 surrounding islands. I dare you to avoid adventure.

2. Dreamed and then planned: I don't know the exact truth in this statement, but I believe HK has made great use of urban planners. The skyscrapers are well spaced, the streets are well placed, and the skyline is breath-taking. Major cities in China are all a big ol' mess.

1: Lushery: HK is green! The city is nestled up against a row of hills on the island. This, combined with its latitude being within the tropic zone means trees, vines, and greenery just minutes from the downtown financial centers. You could be hiking within 15 minutes of a board meeting...... not that I would ever want to be caught dead in any kind of board meeting. Also, the city boasts many parks and recreational areas, all of which are so important to keep me happy.

In conclusion, I must admit that I have been heard saying, on the record, that I could live in Hong Kong. Holy bold statement. I have never felt that way about anywhere in China before. Possibilities.

sheepish.

Blogs serve many personal purposes for their authors, but one of the most fundamental is to keep them honest. In this spirit, I admit to the following:

I wore this all day.

Please, refrain from alerting the Associated Press, letters to the editor, and a supreme court trial. I cant even plead temporary insanity.

I know leggings are not pants.

Perhaps this is what happens when you come down from five weeks of vacation. You lose all sight of social rules and it's anarchy of the closet.

Perhaps I was just feeling a little rebellious.

Anyhow, it's not okay and I fully intend to start the day tomorrow renewed from this mishap. Pray for repentance.

A Proclamation.

This woman, in the middle of my sister, my cousins, and myself, is my maternal grandmother. She was raised like many other Chinese women. She was born in the early 20th century. In her youth she pursued the stage, and then eventually went on to be a children's theatre critic. She raised three children, she was widowed too early. She may seem like so many other asian grandmas that one might encounter. She's tiny, soft spoken, and thinks her grandchildren are a crop above all others.

What you might not guess, is that she has something in common with Qin Shi Huang, the first emperor of China, ruling from 246 to 210 BC. In addition to being the first sovereign, he was also well known for commissioning of the terra cotta soldiers, simplifying written chinese, starting the build of the Great Wall, and being obsessed with immortality. Apparently he had decided that he indeed was to live forever, and demanded concoctions and potions to be made in order to give him everlasting life.

In turn, my grandmother has been blessed/cursed with such a mentality. While sharing a meal with the entire side of this family, she emphatically declared this to the table:

"I have already decided. I am going to persevere and will be alive to see all of my grandchildren be wed."

I drop my chopsticks. huh?!

"I just don't believe I will be able to rest in peace until I see them all married and married well."

Whiplash ensues as the entire table zeros in on me. The (single) single grandchild. Oh dear.

China 2010 Narrative.

Going to China is weird.

It's not vacation, it's not work. I don't even quite know how to describe the mood when I garner the funds and time to make the trek across the Pacific. Maybe..... impending doom meets ecstatic anticipation meets a psychological girding of loins?

How is one supposed to feel about family that one hardly ever sees? There's such an innate bond and disconnect all at the same time. My dad is ever the middle child; never wanting to cooperate and always on the hunt for Somewhere Else. He left China in the late 80s and never went back. Subsequently, my sister and I have been raised continents apart from our grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles, and the like. We have never been more than a fill days travel from our family, had unrelated babysitters, and small holiday gatherings. Furthermore, we settled in a town that is 90% white, so we think we are white girls. Commence cultural confusion.

To make matters more inconvenient, the two sides of our family are like the Sharks and the Jets. Not in the wanting to rumble and fight with chains, but still so so so different. They are different in ways that span generations, and, as it is, need not the added monkey wrench of the Americans.

So how, really, is this supposed to go?

I'm always nervous that I wont be able to say what I want, because with every visit my Mandarin gets rustier.

I'm always afraid my grandmother will make me eat something gross.

I'm always wary that one of my uncles will give me the "don't forget where you came from" nonsense.

I'm always preemptively annoyed about the crowds, the filth, the rude, and the heat.

However.

I always am so thrilled to see my family, and to hear silly stories from when I lived there.

I always know that they admire what's become of us.

I always remember all of the delicious treats we can buy for pennies on the street.

and I always know I can come home to the States.

China 2010 Visuals.

to peruse entire collection of pictures from this trip, click here.

The Silk Tape Road: Mary Bridge

As part of tradition, you may find the following as a wrap up of final thoughts regarding this four month stint in Tacoma.

Even though I came every so slightly begrudgingly, I was so ready to be in the Northwest for a while. I missed the mountains, the water, the trees, and all of the people I have here that I think are rad. It has been superfun to live with the Fosters' and for so many reasons, and assignment in this area was really perfect timing. You know, it was Aunt Terry whom I called when unsure as to whether I should accept an assignment in Hartford, CT last spring. It was kind of an awful job, and I really couldn't think of any reason to land myself there. She quickly reminded me that I am not a travel nurse to wander aimlessly, but to go where my passions are. As God would have it, I ended up in her living room. No mistaking passion there.

The hospital in Tacoma was actually a pretty great place to work. Not as great as Mercy Children's in KC, but definitely a workable environment. The nurses were helpful, the MD's approachable, and none of the residents received the 007 distinction. The biggest complaint I could have is that they chart too much. Jiminy Christmas all I did at that place was chart. An everything assessment every four hours, and then half of it every two. In addition to all of the poking, wiping, inserting, twisting, etc etc that fills up a day. That part was overwhelming, but of course, got better over time.

I love Seattle. The 19 year old version of me is punching this 24 year old in the face. It was this side of five years ago that I could be found, likely standing atop a soapbox, proclaiming that I abhor this western side of Washington and I would never want to live here. I used to be so annoyed with the constant gray skies, the crowds of asians everywhere, and the mind numbing traffic that afflicts every hour of every day in every corner of this city. Now I take it all in stride, reminding myself that if it weren't for the gray skies, the stingy population, and the crowded freeways, too many other people would catch on. Now I love the green spaces, the water, the mountains, the organic food, and the music. hehe. That's why 19 year olds are dumb.

Love Love Love.

with so many apologies.

It has been over forty days since my last post.

On the prematurely defensive, might I remind that I do not sit behind a desk with internet access five days a week? My blog time must be allotted, and I'm afraid the previous forty days have not afforded much in this manner.

I work twelve hour days.

on my days off, I wish to be outside.

then why all the falderal about a blog?

I don't know. I guess I'm just wary that my life won't mean as much unless I talk about it.

The following will be a projectile regurgitation of shareworthy topics I have happened upon in the last forty days. Just for overview, I finished my assignment in Tacoma on July 9th, flew out to China to visit the family on July 10th, returned stateside on the 28th, promptly reboarded aircraft for Denver on the 1st of August, and just returned on the 7th. I've been running. Try and keep up!

Love Love Love.