When Plans Change

Remember how I told y’all I was headed to China? Well, plans change, and I am no longer heading to Asia.

Let me explain. Visa work is awful (as I’m sure some of you know). I pushed back my start date for China 5 times because of visa hang ups before I finally cut my losses. However, the visa hang ups were not the only reason I am no longer going to teach in China. After thinking out loud while working at a summer camp a few weeks ago (summer camp makes you think y’all), I realized that I have never dreamed of living in China. Not that I’m against living in China, it just didn’t seem worth going through hoops to go to a country I’m not passionate about living in. After I finally said it out loud, I immediately wanted to cry from relief; a huge weight had been lifted after months of stress and worry.

I have since realized that I currently really, really want to be in Europe. However, I also don’t necessarily want to get a visa for one specific country. So, I have decided to work towards my new dream of becoming a digital nomad in Europe. So far, this has proved difficult, as it is (understandably) hard to transition from extremely part time freelance to full time writing. I’m currently applying to jobs like crazy and working to leave the US in October (fingers crossed!) along with a great adventuring friend who also wants to explore life as a digital nomad. This is a big goal, and I appreciate any good vibes, advice, or job referrals you can share.

Speaking of freelance writing, do you need some quality content created? My portfolio can be found here; I’d love to hear from you at CelinaTTolbert@gmail.com

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How Not To Go From Paris To Prague: Prague (Kind of Solo) Part 1!

A couple of months ago (I know, I’m way late posting this) I got falafel with a friend, took out my recycling, and left my flat in Paris for my first European trip – 3 days in Prague! I decided to be very budget friendly and booked a night bus to and from Paris and Prague. 14 hours on a bus? No big deal! I am super great at making good decisions. So I took my polka dot backpack and made the 50 minute metro trip from my side of Paris to the other.

After getting to the bus station and wandering around, I realized they wanted me to pay to use their toilet, so I went with the budget mentality and held it. I finally found my bus and, after squishing with the crowd, claimed my window seat. A French girl sat next to me and after I tried to say hey I realized she did not, in fact, want to be my friend. I began to realize that the journey was so long because of the numerous stops that were relatively out of the way. Along the way I napped a bit, read, listened to music, and took in the scenery of France, Germany, and finally, the Czech Republic!

After the God-knows-how-long bus ride I hopped off and followed some people (and google maps) to the closer than I thought Florenc metro station. I descended the stairs and found a hoard of foreigners trying to buy metro tickets from old ticket machines that had an “English” button, but never actually changed to English. Through trying to buy these tickets and staring at the machine for 10 minutes, I found 2 fellow travelers struggling to buy tickets. At first we considered just getting on the metro without a ticket, but a local (possibly homeless) man warned us of the hefty fee if we were caught.

We gave up on the metro and decided to walk. They needed to get to the main train station, just one stop away, and I was also headed in that direction, so we used our offline google maps and turned around a few times in pursuit of the train station. We ended up following some savvy backpacker boys into a park where the station sat. I finally found a metro ticket machine that would take my card, and lost Sada (?) and Mikal (?) (my metro finding buddies) in the process. I took my ticket down the stairs, took the metro one stop, and found my home right outside the metro exit – Starbucks.

As I got in line I realized the wifi wasn’t working and I’d have to use all of my collective life knowledge to get to my hostel. So I took my very berry hibiscus iced tea and prepared to brave the streets of Prague.

 

Part 2 of my Prague series coming soon!

A Penis in Paris – My Misadventures with Kate, Ep. 1

Dear members of my family: Read this at your own risk; I would suggest you didn’t.Β But just know I did not interact with said penis.

 

Kate and I reconnected in Paris when I moved here, about a month and a half ago when I started my life as an au pair in Paris. Kate is the best friend to have when you want to have a crazy adventure. I have never made a full night out with Kate because she parties hard and takes the night bus, while I am always super paranoid about missing the last metro (because there’s no night bus near me).

Saturday I decided to take Kate to a theatre show at a British theatre festival in Paris. I knew it would be very strange and avant garde – aka super strange and hopefully hilarious, and, if nothing else, at least in English. I booked the tickets the night before and Kate came over the next afternoon.

We chatted about stupid boys and I ate pan au chocolat while she sipped a strange beer I bought for her (I don’t know how to buy beer). She joked that the only thing she wanted for her birthday was a nice night with a naked man. We tried to leave on time, but I hated my outfit and changed 20 times while simultaneously doing my makeup. I had the metro directions – 2 transfers, 3 trains, a loooooong commute to a small theatre on the edge of Paris.

After getting on the train we realized I didn’t have directions from the metro station to the theatre…or the name of the theatre. We knew we would be late but gosh darn I was going to get my 10 euros’ worth of weird theatre. We walked out of the metro and realized our commute was a 15 minute walk, cementing our lateness. What we did not know was that we would have to climb hills and staircases that made us sweat our eyeliner off.

After finally finding the theatre we had to print our tickets (because they couldn’t just let us in, the only 2 girls in the lobby). Then we went outside to get a man to open the (unlocked) theatre door and walk us to the stage -because the seating was on the stage.

At this point we had missed the first 20 minutes of a supposedly hour long but really 45 minute play. We snuck to separated seats and watched unpaid actors dance on dirt that was strewn on the stage. We had read the brief summary of the play beforehand and knew vaguely about the plot, but I’m pretty sure those first 20 minutes were imperative.

We proceed to watch a girl in overalls sing a song about death, a guy we assumed was Jesus walk around the stage, and a guy in a hospital gown look very angry and confused. The entire time I was just praying there was no audience participation, as the actors were getting up close and personal with us. Towards the end hospital gown guy is killed and then brought back to life. And then he begins to peels his “skin” off – some sort of latex covering. First he was sitting and took off the top of his hospital gown.

“Oh no,” I think. “He’s not going to do it, is he?” Oh yes, he did. He took the whole gown off. Underneath he was wearing his birthday suit, and pretty confident about it. As he continued to stand naked in a pile of dirt peeling his skin, two actors swept the dirt around him. Then, after peeling all of the coating on his body, the play was over.

And that’s how I gave Kate exactly what she wanted for her birthday – a night with a naked man.

Stick around for more of my misadventures with Kate!

Why I’m Moving Abroad Even Though I’m Terrified

I’m scared y’all. In fact, I’m terrified. A week from now I’m moving to a country I’ve never visited to live in a city where I have almost no friends. I’m putting my life in two suitcases and leaving the only country I’ve ever known to go on a crazy adventure. And although I’m excited, I’m also really afraid.

I’m afraid that I won’t make friends and the family I’m working for won’t like me. I’m afraid I’ll say something horrible in French and embarrass myself out of the country. I’m afraid the stylish skinny people will turn up their nose at my frumpy frame and trying too hard outfits. I’m scared that I’ll be alone in the city of love. I’m scared because I’ve never been out of America, no matter how cool and cultured I try to be. I’m scared I’ll lose my friends back home and everything will be different when I return.

I’m terrified of change.

But what I’m more afraid of is never doing anything. I’m terrified of never doing anything and never going anywhere. I’m afraid of sitting on my laptop for the rest of my life watching other people accomplish what I dream of. I’m scared of staying in my comfort zone and missing out on adventures and relationships. I’m afraid of living a stagnant life.

So I’m leaving my safe comfort zone. I’m going to live so that I don’t ask what if. I’m going to follow my dream and go on an adventure that will change my life. I’m moving abroad –Β because I’m terrified.