Liza Cucco, fellow soon-to-be-ex-patriot, herself going to London to get her masters in art this fall, expressed the other day in a Facebook note her wariness regarding the move. So much wariness in fact, that she is considering deferring for one year in order to work and save up money to pay off the mounting debt from the student loans she'll have to take on. I'm worried about loans myself, and as I've been fortunate to not have one yet, the whole concept is foreign to me. What is a loan? Where can I get one? Who gives them out? What's a private loan versus other kinds of loans? What loan will get me the most money without killing me with interest later on? Or killing me with repaying it? These questions I ask myself, shaking in my bed in a cold sweat. It's okay though--it's been so humid lately, I happy for the relief. Even if it is giving me an ulcer.
I have a friend whose minimum monthly payment for his undergrad loan is $1,000. He's just 24 years old, a struggling actor (read: waiter), and I'm not sure he knows how he's going to get out of this. And I don't envy him. Now, granted, he disappeared for a bit, hitchhiking through Canada for several months in a row last year, doing odd jobs just to cover food and other small expenses, so it's not like he made himself available to take care of this financial situation back in the states. But it's sad to think that five or so months of precociousness could screw you that much.
I guess that's adulthood.
I myself have been feeling the growing pains a lot lately, falling away from the parental safety net (or rather, out of it), grappling with the fact that I will actually have to really take care of myself this time around, so far away from everything and everyone I know, save Heidi. I have enough money to cover my tuition and a little extra, but if the market continues on this trend--and most likely it will--that money's going to decrease before I get over there, leaving me with an even greater housing bill. School is only meant to take up 25 hours a week, so if I can get a job on top of that, it would be helpful. But I worry about my flagrant lack of responsibility--I sometimes act as if, if I could avoid taking any, I could avoid growing up. But that's ridiculous, of course. And I suppose now's the time to stop all this foolishness.
Still, the thought from Liza was beating on the sides of my brain the other day. If I had the chance, would I stay? I considered it for a little bit--the whole quandary reminded me of the song Banjo sings in The Man Who Came To Dinner (hence the picture of Jimmy Durante at the head of this entry), one of my all time favorite plays/play-to-movie adaptations. But my answer is a resounding "NO!" I feel lately I don't have any reason to stay--New York bores me, America bores me, my job bores me, realism bores me, drama (personal people kind) bores me. I feel totally uninspired and the malaise that's settled around me is the worst. I remember a single thought that kept resonating with me largely throughout this past winter, that I may have mentioned before, which was that I wanted something so new I couldn't even name it. And I think this thing, this whole journey that is still a big mystery in so many ways, I think that's it. So even though I have a feeling that I want to stay, I have to yield to the feeling of wanting to go. Even though the song is opposite. And I really do love that song!
I'm trying to get my visa app done by the end of next week. Wish me luck.