So I have been to Israel numerous times. Six months here, 8 months there, two weeks thrown in for good measure... Israel has quite easily become my second home. I have a slew of friends, family and former flings there that it almost sometimes feels as if there is a whole different Jessica alter-ego that is simultaneously living another life across the world. Whenever I go to Israel, I easily fall back into another life and the transition seems so seamless.

The beach of Tel Aviv. How dreamy.

While it was amazing to see everyone- especially because I had trained myself to forget about Israel because I honestly thought it would be years before I would ever return- this trip was definitely different from every past trip that I had taken. 

The main reason why it was so different was because it was just a trip.

Usually when I am off for Israel, I am there for months. And leaving is an incredibly dramatic and painful process where I typically spend the following week in a ketonic depression filled with copious amounts of chocolate and vodka. Seriously, a dangerously delicious depression- but depression nonetheless.

This time, however, from the minute I boarded my plane in Logan the moment I was most excited for (okay, well technically second most excited for. I was super duper excited to see the face of my friend Melissa when I surprised her at her apartment) for was to come back home and be with my boyfriend again (cue vomit... I know).

The girls... After the big surprise! 

But it was more than just seeing my boyfriend. It was getting back to the life I had started making for myself here. Because every other time I had gone to Israel I really had nothing to come back to. Sure, I had university and a smattering of friends- but no real foundation. I didn't have an anchor holding me and guiding me steadily. I always had assumed that Israel was my anchor. 

But now I am in a completely different place than I ever thought I would end up. And I love it. 

I am starting university in one week. Tomorrow I begin my job training. I have started volunteering teaching my citizenship classes again on Saturdays. I have a full plate, but I feel grateful for every bit on it because I have a feeling I haven't had in a very, very long time- or perhaps ever. I feel like I am where I am supposed to be. 

While nothing in my life has been according to 'my plan', it does not even seem to matter. Because finally, I have begun to finally "figure it out" and while I may not be there 100% (and let's face it- who really is?) I am definitely on my way. And if it took me $1,200 and two weeks across the world to figure it out, then I'll take that too. 

So after a cab, a train, two planes, a bus, another train and one car-ride, I arrived safely home on Thursday.

The trip itself was not bad at all. I have traveled extensively and have had horrific travel experiences (flight oversells, having the flu over the Atlantic and being treated by the resident airport doctor at Heathrow at 4am, sleeping in the Berlin train station) and this was definitely not the worst. And the best part was how I excited I was to come home. In the past, I have always lamented the journey back home because I would much rather continue my nomadic lifestyle. This time though, I wanted to run back home, shower, munch on Chinese and hang out with the boyfriend and cuddle all night.

In reality I ended up passing out in bed, but still  a lovely experience.

Now, four short days later and I have started a pre-req Statistics class at my university! The exclamation point is not really a testament to my love of Stats, but more of my excitement of being back on a campus.

I'm starting the part-time MSW program at Simmons which is nestled in the heart of the college district of Boston. I love the energy found on campuses, fresh notebooks and sharpened pencils. I guess I am a geek at heart. And I am so excited to learn more about Social Work, especially because I start training for my new job on Tuesday working at a women's shelter.

More updates later- now I need to study!

This past year has been nothing short of a twisty, sometimes scary, a bit overwhelming super-sized roller coaster. 

Exactly one year ago I had my bank accounts closed, my bags packed and ticket purchased to move abroad with my best friend to spend a year working, backpacking and partying in South America. About a week before we were supposed to leave, she canceled via a phone call that ultimately destroyed our friendship and took me an incredibly long time to heal from.

But then a little miracle happened. I found an inner strength in me that I never knew existed. Because even though break-ups suck, breaking up with a friend can sometimes be even more traumatic. And devastating. But then I realized how much stronger I was for it and I learned to forgive and move on. And then, somehow, amazing things happened. 

With bank accounts already closed and bags already packed, I decided to apply to get my Israeli citizenship and move over there. Somehow while waiting for my passport and citizenship card (which to this day I am still waiting for due to the Army being stubborn) I met the most amazing man and I fell incredibly, madly and deeply in love. Within weeks of dating, I just had a feeling in my gut and I knew. 

But that meant I had to make a decision: stay and see where this relationship would go or follow 'my plan' and my dream to move to Israel. 

A lot of factors influenced my decision. I was still reeling from the hurt I had experienced from my friend backing out of our original plan and was scared to take another risk on someone else. I was scared to give myself to them, only to have them decide they don't want me. From my friend, I had realized a really harsh truth: people are selfish and they will do whatever serves them best. Which isn't necessarily bad, but so far out of my realm of thinking. 

Luckily the man I fell in love with is also unselfish and told me to follow wherever my heart decided; he would understand. 

It was agonizing trying to make that decision. Weeks of late nights and pro & con sheets tormented me. But I always came back to the same decision: I don't want to look back on my life and know that one person ruined any trust relationships I would have in my life. 

I went with my heart. 

And you know what? I haven't regretted it for a second. 

True, sometimes when we fight I wonder "What would have happened had I left? Would I have been happier?" And it is such a fleeting thought because it is so absurd. Because even when we fight and I slam doors, I still love that man with everything I have. 

So exactly one year ago today I was recovering from a broken heart. That girl, jaded at the world and feeling so betrayed every night in her bed alone, is so different from the girl today. 

Life is still hard. There are still bills to pay, loneliness to combat and dreams to realize I am in a better place than I ever could have imagined. And even though the ups and downs of life can be intense, it still is a rollercoaster I intend on riding til the very end. 

One week ago I was reeling from a slew of job rejections, a general feeling of deprime (depression in French just sounds so much more sophisticated) and having just an overall tough time with life. Ever since quitting and committing my life to living in this suburban hell (melodramatic much?) I have been in a bit of an existential funk. I have also been really lonely as it has been hard to make friends and I have no job so essentially my life has consisted of a lot of Tostitos and Jerry Springer.

Until Friday of last week. In which I, hopeless and forelorned, received a job offer which took me about .005 seconds to accept. And not any job. It is not administrative job that I resigned to applying for, nor the front staff at a local gym. No, I actually somehow managed to score a job in my field and more importantly, something that is related to Social Work, which I will be studying starting in the Fall.

Additionally, the job is super flexible. I sign up for shifts a month before and can make my schedule around my classes. It almost is too good to be true. Almost.

Also, since I won't be starting school until the fall and my training for work does not being until the first week of September I came to the very astute observation that I have a good 2.5 weeks to kill.

So, in the good nature of spontaneity that I sometimes possess coupled with a recklesness that I have never possessed, I booked a plane ticket to Israel for 2 weeks leaving in less than a week. Yep, I dropped $1,000 on a plane ticket across the world to go see my friends, party and work on my tan.

I reckon it will totally be worth it.

So I am leaving for Israel to hang out with all my lovely friends for 2 weeks, have a great job lined up and am starting graduate school in 2.5 weeks. Awesome, right?

I am a little nervous about how everything will work out. Will I be overwhelmed working, studying and volunteering on weekends? Will I be able to balance everything and still be able to relax once in awhile and see my boyfriend?

I think know that it will definitely be a challenge, but I think I am ready for it. Or at least I will be after 2 weeks of fun in the sun... Right?

And just when I thought waking up every morning to a new slew of rejection letters from potential employers was not humiliating enough... I get this email:

At first glance, it's nothing special. I get a fair amount of lame and generic rejection emails daily. And then on second glance, I notice that I am not the only recipient on this email. Nay, rather I am one of 97.

Yes, this woman sent a mass email to NINETY-SEVEN people rejecting them from the job and also alerting the ninety-six other people that you also did not get this job. 

So in one way it is a nice comfort knowing that you can share your rejection with a relatively large pool of others. On the other hand... WTF? This is incredibly unprofessional, offensive and mildly humiliating. 

Depending on the job, I spend anywhere from ten to twenty minutes constructing my application. That includes tailoring my resume to best match the job position and crafting a cover letter after researching the position and the organization. I usually apply to anywhere from 5 to 50 jobs a day. You do the math. It is pretty much a part-time job for me to apply to jobs. 

And you- mass email sender- who is already gainfully employed full-time could not spare an extra ten to twenty minutes yourself to send individual emails? Seriously? You cannot have the consideration or professionalism to even accomplish that?

I think I am taking this even more to heart because it is just so symbolic of the frustration that I have already been feeling regarding my job search and its lack of progress. And when things like this happen... it just makes me lose even more hope. And not only that, but rejections on a daily basis can really just kick you in the gut self-esteem wise. It is hard when you spend your whole life believing you are an amazingly talented incredibly blessed gift on this earth and then spend an entire month getting rejected day after day. 

And to be honest, I am kind of sick of hearing everyone tell me "well, everyone is in the same boat as you" or "it's tough out there right now". Please, I know this. But at the end of the day, this is the last thing you want to hear. When you're super hungry and craving a Big Mac, you don't want your friend smugly informing you, "Well, imagine all those kids in Africa who haven't eaten in 3 days". You want to hear, "Girl, I hear you. We are going to get you that Big Mac. You deserve it. You have worked so hard for that Big Mac. You go out and get it. And make them give you extra pickles because you are such an amazing person".

Why does no one ever just do that?

I have been unemployed for officially 1 month. While in writing, it does not sound so treacherously long, some days it feels like a lifetime. I left my job with three interviews lined up- all very promising options- and the hope that I would be in a job within 2 weeks. And then reality set in. And, though I was offered a job, I knew that it was not a match and I would have been miserable. I now know that I cannot have a simple '9 to 5' where I clock in and clock out. At some point I know I will find that job where I feel passionate or I will just accept the next best thing out of desperation. When that breakthrough happens, however, I do not yet know. I have begun to adjust well to my new life of unemployment. I also like how it nicely coincided with the summer months. It also coincided quite neatly with my move into my new apartment with the boyfriend. Living together for the first time with a boyfriend is a new experience. I have never lived with a significant other before and I am pretty confident this will be my last time. You really do get to learn a lot about your partner- the good, bad and the ugly. But it is important to learn all that fun, dirty stuff too and it brings you closer. I can see how living together can totally destroy couples, though. So, while I am in a sort of limbo in life now I cannot deny I am incredibly happy and feel so blessed. I know that where I am is 100% the exact opposite of where I thought I would currently be in my life, but I also feel like in a way I skipped 30 steps ahead and found the true love of my life (super sappy, I know). I honestly imagined getting married in my mid-30's after having achieved some kick-ass career goals and traveling the world. And I know that whenever you make plans, God just laughs in your face but I think I am still pretty happy with how this version of life is playing out...

Have you ever been in a funk? One where you cannot seem to shake off your 'funkiness' no matter what you do?

Yeah, well that is me right now. 

The reason for my funk basically all boils down to the simple fact that I am currently unemployed after having quit my job. This is starting week 2 of my unemployment actually. While it is admittedly kind of enjoyable to sleep in, go out to lunch daily with my boyfriend and stay up until 4am- I cannot help but feel as if there is something missing. Oh, right- employment. 

I am trying to keep positive, but it is hard. Especially since Monday I will be meeting up with a small group of my former co-workers and I feel as if I have nothing to show for the fact that I pretty spontaneously up and quit my job. I had an Office Space-esque departure (minus the beating the shit out of the office equipment). 

I figured that I should at least try and do something productive with my life. I started redoing those crazy Insanity workouts and have finally submitted my application for my Master's program which for some reason I had been putting off for months now. But, writing has always been cathartic for me. And this should be no different. 

I hope to stick with it. I see no reason why I shouldn't- I quite literally have nothing else to do all day. True, I have been making lunch plans left and right. And I have been finding myself carving out an hour each day to catch Jerry Springer (I swear- I never used to watch this show and now I am somewhat addicted. Shameful, I know). 

So here is to being positive, hoping for a promising future, curbing my Springer addiction and renewing my blogger efforts. 

And here is to another night staying up til 4am.