I just completed an interesting exercise in organization and memory. When I relocated my blog to wordpress from blogger (exactly one year ago), all my old posts were brought over and dumped into the “uncategorized” category. I guess I’ve never been quite bored enough to categorize them until today. In order to put them into categories such as “friends,” “daily grind,” or whatever, I had to open all those old posts and at least skim them.
It’s kind of a journey through the most confusing time of my life reading some of those posts. There was a lot of joy there, with new love and marriage, being a home-owner and moving into a new form of independent adulthood, but also a lot of spiritual wrestling, things that I suppose I ponder less and less these days, as I settle into being a strange breed of non-practicing Christian, an almost agnostic who still believes in the teachings of Jesus but doesn’t really believe Christianity as it is taught in most American churches is true. That long phrase, is, unfortunately, the best way I can describe my faith right now. It’s not simple. It doesn’t fit in a box. It’s okay.
I noticed back a year or so I wrote a lot about getting back to writing. Today, with having traded my restaurant career for an utterly unstressful job, I see endless opportunities out there, thanks also to some classes, the community columnist experience, and a recent writer’s festival. I’ve had a revelation in the last few weeks that I should pursue writing about immigration-related issues. I am acquainted with, albeit via the internet, a whole host of people with interesting stories that could be covered.
Last week I queried a few of the Madison papers with a story of someone I met on Immigrate2US.net and was contacted three days later to write the story. I will post the link when it is published. I don’t want to give away all the details of this couple’s story. It will be, I hope, the best thing I have had published thus far in my life. Following that I will be pursuing some larger outlets with a truly tragic story of one of the women on another immigration board, whose husband was murdered in Mexico recently while separated, him waiting out the waiver process for almost a year, while she stayed in the U.S., working and caring for their two children. It’s an amazing opportunity to stress the oft-ignored family unity clauses in current immigration law.
I don’t know where this is all taking me, but I have so many writing-related ideas right now I can hardly entertain them all, and while I’ve always loved to write, I’ve never had nearly the number of practical and feasible opportunities to do it as I do right now.
All this has been made possible by my career change, and I can’t express how glad I am about it, despite still loving the 10-15 hours a week I am currently working at Qdoba. Those hours are my link back to the time my whole life changed, the months after graduation, working at Chin’s with Fermin, the setting of my spiritual crises, the activity, the excitement, and outlet for my leadership skills. After a frustrating stint at another store, I’m back working at my favorite Qdoba, the busy one on Highway 100 and Bluemound Road, the one I loved working at before I was promoted and started the long, unsatisfying role of being a General Manager. It’s good memories there, and strangely, many customers who I no longer recognize seem so pleasantly surprised to see me, even asking where I have been for the past two years.
Well, it’s countdown to Friday night. Mine’s going to involve buying some grass seed and perhaps some barriers for my newly expanded vegetable garden. Then, perhaps some wine, some homemade curry, a movie.