I am back in Essex armed with a plan: 1) Apply to Journalism MA program at University of Missouri 2) Work 3) Save money 4) Spend winter/spring 2011 in Buenos Aires with my sister. So far, the plan is on track. I have fussed of over my application essays, snagged four jobs and an internship, stopped traveling on weekends, and sent a letter of inquiry to over 20 English language institutes in Buenos Aires. It is my hope that I will be able to support myself there by teaching ESL.
It is my beautiful black bicycle, referred to by friends as my cadillac, that is making this all happen. My future is quite literally riding on it. Without my black beauty, I could never commute between all my jobs.
Four of the jobs are sources of greatly appreciated income. I take a ferry and then pedal my way to a little grocer/cafe in Vermont, pump up two steep hills to the preschool where I must build my own fire and set about sorting through hopelessly confused files, speed back down hill to paint trim in town, and then wearily wobble home to write some press releases for a freelance gig. These efforts are for rent money, food, and the ticket to Buenos Aires. For school, I ferry and bike three more times a week to Vermont and intern for a healthy food and living magazine. Though they don’t know it yet, they will reimburse me with a fantastic letter of recommendation--hopefully raving about my smarts and sharp writing skills--for journalism school.
Sunday is my day off. The day that I have time to go rock climbing, cook a huge pot of quinoa for the week, do laundry, catch up on emails, and write this blog. My bicycle stands still, safely perched on the back porch protected by the awning. We are taking a deep inhale before turning into the wind and starting another week, another hill.