Quarter life crisis

As usual, I have neglected my blog for months on end. Seriously though, I have a good excuse- no internet. FINALLY, today, months and months after my arrival, I have procured internet chez-moi.

So, that is my excuse. Because somehow, I can't sit down and write my blog unless 1) I am alone in my room and no one is bothering me and 2)I am actually connected to the blogger site (not sure why, but the words just don't seem to flow when I'm writing in Word, I think it makes me feel like I'm writing something for school). It also helps to be wired on sugar and caffeine, which happen to be abundant in my room.

Anyway- here is my massive update. In January I moved to St. Etienne (a former mining town outside of Lyon on the East coast of France, 1.5 hours from Geneva) to play with a new team after months and months of paperwork issues in Montpellier. Basically, I never got my "carte de sejour" saying I was a legal resident in France, so I couldn't play. Also, the club never had an international player so they did not know how to help me navigate the paperwork issues. So, I signed up with a new team, in a higher division, with a bunch of international players and a president who seemed keen to have me and help me get settled.

I arrived in St. Etienne mid-January, and then proceeded to break my foot in three places on the second day of practice. Go me!! Or, as they say in French "trop fort." So, then I am the new girl and the injured girl at the same time. January through March I struggle with my broken foot and getting back on the court. Many of the French girls on the team remain bitchy and French, and do not care to integrate me into their social circle. Finally, I get ready to play and then find out that, as it turns out, the Tunisian girl and I have the same license ("E" classification license for international player) and we can't both play at the same time. Big disappointment. At least the foreign girls are cool, and invite me over to play card games and hang out.

I am rather unamused with the President for omitting this important piece of information, but I guess you live and you learn.

I am now at the point where I am trying to decide what to do with my life, not so much in the long term (I still have a grand vision for my future AFTER handball that seems safe and far away), but for next year. Part of me wants to stay another year in France and see things go more smoothly, another part of me is not sure I can do it again. It has been too hard.

The upside is, now I know the process. Having crashed into just about every single hurdle along the way, I can honestly say that it probably can't be worse. I know what to look for in a team, and what to avoid. I know that a good coach is more important than good weather, and that whatever I do, I better avoid teams with too many "special" licenses that limit playing time. As long as I play in France I will always have an "E" license, and can never play with another "E" license or with too many rookie players ("B" license) or international players. I also know that breaking your foot and having your wallet stolen SUCKS and will try to avoid that in the future.

We'll see. I'm staying open minded for the time being and trying to make it through the end of the season. As frustrating as it has been, I still must have come out with more than I came in; I learned some handball stuff, improved my French, and realized that I am a ridiculously stubborn person who refuses to give up. That being said, I find myself contemplating the fine line between "persistence" and "stupidity."

Anyway- today I had a conversation with my good friend Kathy, who is also living la vie Francaise and playing handball. Like me, she is struggling with her plans for next year. After all of the hardships of this season, it is hard to think of putting ourselves through this again. We were also disappointed to find out that our backup plan- the Air Force- may not be a very good back up plan. Apparently they aren't taking officers into training until 2010 or something. What am I supposed to do for the next year and a half? Get a "real" job? God forbid.

Thus, I have made a self-diagnosis (via Wikipedia) of Quarter-life crisis, or "QLC" as it is commonly known. See the following link for more info: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quarter_life_crisis

Of these symptoms, I suffer especially from the following:
* feeling "not good enough" because one can't find a job that is at one's academic/intellectual level
* confusion of identity
* insecurity regarding the near future
* insecurity concerning long-term plans, life goals
* insecurity regarding present accomplishments
* boredom with social interactions
* loss of closeness to high school and college friends
* financially-rooted stress
* loneliness
* desire to have children
* a sense that everyone is, somehow, doing better than you

I especially enjoy the last two. Although a child is far from practical or truly desired, I can feel my biological clock ticking and it worries me. Also, somehow, everyone IS doing better than me. Did I mention that I have been out of school for almost four years and I do NOT have a law degree or medical degree? I also do not own any furniture and do most of my shopping (which doesn't include the purchase of meat because chicken is too expensive) at discount food stores like Aldi and Lidl. Some of my friends have houses. I, like all students in France, take advantage of the French welfare system to defray the cost of a 9m2 apartment.

Missing from the QLC list is the following:
* insecurity relating to the fact that 95% of your friends are married or engaged and you are still ignoring text messages from sketchy french rugby players.
* stress related to the fact that next year you will be "over 25" and France will be twice as expensive unless you can find a suitable fake ID that says you are 23.
* lack of ability to communicate freely in French despite living in France almost 8 months and taking French classes.
* sense of impending doom when forced to make phone calls/answer your cell phone.

In summary, I am having a quarter life crisis. What happened to my European dream? Where is my Vespa and my cool European friends who want to spend the day in a cafe with me discussing films and politics? My life is not as "L'auberge Espagne" as I dreamed.

So, here I am, wondering if I should give it another chance...or if I should give up and realize that it is NOT easy to live alone in a foreign country without friends and family (and internet access, that has been the real killer). Do I have to "grow up" and get a "real job" and never ride down the Mediterranean coast on a Vespa to meet my cool international friends at the hottest tapas bar in town? That would be sad...but also mature.

Oh Quarter Life Crisis, what is your solution? I try to self-medicate you with chocolate and alcohol, but you do not go away, you suck my soul and make me feel inadequate. Damn you.