Tag Archives: Honolulu

Young Man Went East #2: Settling In, Or Trying To

Jenn and I made the big move to the big city about three weeks ago and I have yet to write about a single day (luckily for you, Jenn is up to her eighth post about New York in her blog jenNYdreams). It’s not for lack of experiences to relate, but rather because I feel stuck in a period of waiting. Until now, I’ve felt uninspired to write a story when I have yet to live out the ending. It’s been three weeks and we’re still living out of suitcases and sleeping in living rooms. Not that I’m not grateful for those living rooms nor the hospitality of those who own them, but I’d rather ride a train back and open a door with a key that I’m not borrowing. When I can finally unlock the door to a place of my own, I’ll dazzle you with a detailed story of bumming and begging, worrying and waiting, complete with a happy ending.

Apartment-hunting might be the most pressing (and depressing) aspect of my New York experience so far, but it’s not the only one, and the others are much better.

Work has finally become enjoyable, as well as profitable. It was hard at first transferring from the Bubba Gump in Honolulu to the one in New York, but only because it was a strangely retroactive sensation to go from a seasoned, server-training old-timer to the new guy who needs to ask where we store to-go boxes. However, the menu is mostly the same, the layout of the restaurant was easy to learn, and being a transfer from the far away Hawaiian islands makes for an easy conversation starter. I’m adjusting quickly. Now that I’ve been working pretty consistently for a couple weeks, I’m known by most of the other servers and have a good report with a handful of them. These new coworkers, by the way, are for the most part actors aspiring to make it big on Broadway. They can sing, they can dance, and they all ask me what my “thing” is. It’s quite an entertaining group of peers. They can in no way replace the friends I’ve made at the Honolulu Bubba Gump, but it’s nice to run into a familiar face on the subway.

Jenn came in during one of my first shifts at the Bubba Gump in Times Square. Weird thing is, this is the first photo I’ve seen of me in my work uniform, and I’ve been a server for over two years.

Exploring the city’s wide range of food options has been another great aspect of my experience, especially because I do it with my girlfriend. After I get out of work, I meet up with Jenn — usually at a nice coffee shop in an upscale Manhattan neighborhood — and we venture out in search of a good, affordable meal. We almost always find an interesting restaurant that settles our cravings for that day (whether it be pizza, a burger, Chinese, etc.) and are rarely disappointed. During the first week or two, we made sure to save half our dinner to be our breakfast the following day in an effort to cut down costs. However, dining out takes its toll, even on my restaurant-blogging girlfriend. We’ve since opted to cook breakfast and dinner, eating out for only one meal. This not only saves money (breakfast is consisted of eggs, bacon, and fried toast while dinner is fancy Top Ramen), but also occupies our time with one of our favorite activities: cooking. Even though it’s not our kitchen nor our cooking ware, the meals we make together are completely ours, and that makes them special.

Not having a place of our own yet has been fine since all we do at our friends’ place is cook, eat, and sleep. For the most part, Jenn and I are busy roaming the greatest city in the world. We’ve watched fireworks over the Hudson River and a sunset from a park in Chelsea; we’ve eaten raw beef at a Korean restaurant and pot stickers from a food cart; we’ve stumbled upon swing dance festivals at the Lincoln Center and a massive yoga class in Times Square. We’re living it up. Now it’s just time to settle in.

The signature ramen at Momofuku Noodle Bar just might be better than any I’ve had in Hawaii.

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Young Man Went West #31: Evolution of an Escape Plan

And now what?

The road trip is over and I’ve been on this island for nearly two-and-a-half years, which is a year-and-a-half longer than I had schemed. My original game plan for life after college was hopping from one city to the next, a year here, a year there. Repeat ’til fully jaded or satiated. I wanted to know several regions–inside and out–before settling down in one of them. While I’m still on the first stop of that master plan, I can assure you the travel bug has not vanished.

Had I no upcoming plans around the time of my first kama’ainiversary, i.e. my first full year on this island, I’d have made some to move elsewhere. However, several months before that one-year marker on September 16th, Ian proposed his idea for the cross-country road trip. Obviously, I wasn’t going to go through the hassle of moving back to the Bay Area and finding a new job, so I stayed put way past September. The road trip became, for me, not only a chance to see the country with my own eyes, but also an opportunity to scout out that next stop.

Change #1: Move out of Hawaii after one year –> Move out of Hawaii after 21 months, before the road trip

Regardless, I had a candidate picked out: the Emerald City. I left my heart in Seattle when visiting my cousin Avery for her graduation from SPU. It looked and felt and smelled like San Francisco, but it was, at the same time, completely new. That fascinated me, and I was dead-set on relocating there. I planned on moving off the island, driving around the country for a summer, then starting anew in Seattle.

Then I realized I was going to be crazy broke by the end of the trip and decided I should return to Honolulu for three months and save up a bit of cash before heading somewhere else. Seattle was still my target destination, unless something on the road changed my mind.

Change #2: Move to Seattle right after the road trip –> Return to Honolulu for three months, go home for Christmas, then move to Seattle

Of course, something did change my mind, I just didn’t expect it to be Seattle itself. Upon my arrival in that familiar, rainy wonderland, it hit me: I knew I could live in that kind of city. I knew I could fit in with those types of people. Growing up near another progressive, West Coast city, I knew I’d be immediately comfortable in Seattle, and that goes against the whole point of moving to different places. I wanted to learn, I wanted to adapt. Seattle was out of the picture.

As we journeyed on eastward, I kept my eyes open for new opportunities. I’d have considered Minnesota for its mix of big city feel and small town friendliness, but the weather blows on both ends. Chicago is undoubtedly a great American city, but after the food opportunities, there’s little charm left. Madison and Ann Arbor seemed like delightful college towns, but I’m not in college anymore.

Then, we stumbled across the border.

Toronto offered the same laid-back, big city vibe as do San Francisco and Seattle, but because it’s in Canada, it’s inherently different. Despite its proximity to the border, there are still enough cultural difference to learn about between the US and Canada to keep me intrigued for at least a year.

I was researching dual citizenship all the way through Boston. . . until we hit New York.

Change #3: Move to Seattle after three more months in Honolulu –> Move to New York City after nine more months in Honolulu

As soon I stepped foot in New York, I knew where my next stop would be. The promise of burgeoning opportunity oozed out of every crevice. The City moved in a million different directions, none of which would be a dead end. It activated my curiosity, my imagination, and all five senses. It was certainly a place one needs to live in once, but can only move to before a certain age. I was set on making that move before the opportunity passed. Of course, I’d need to save up a lot more money to make such a big move, so I figured I’d stay put in Honolulu until the following summer.

All the way down the East Coast and through the South, I told every new friend that I was moving to New York.

Then I met up with my oldest friend in New Orleans: my sister. She’s been a fountain of helpful advice my whole life–from preparing me for my first school dance to guiding me in picking a college–so when she has something to say, I listen. She liked my decision to move to New York, but wondered aloud if I should utilize my youthful freedom, i.e. lack of responsibility, to pursue an opportunity and discover where that led me, instead of the other way around. It made sense. She sister’s advice always does.

As we roamed Canal Street, I pondered on my wide, open future a bit more, then was struck by inspiration. My first and last nights in the Crescent City were spent with my old college buddy, Josh, who relocated there after graduating to work for Teach For America. I come from a whole family of teachers, and everybody says I’d be a good one, so why shouldn’t I teach, too? And it doesn’t have to be for America; countries around the world are constantly seeking English teachers. If I have nothing leading me to New York, maybe I should let this idea lead me to another country.

Change #4: Move to New York City after nine more months in Honolulu –> Apply to teach English in Korea and stay in Honolulu until I’m accepted

After a bit of research, I discovered that because Japan is the number one destination for foreign teachers, Korea offers plenty of benefits to lure potential teachers away, including cheap living and a good salary. On top of that, Korean food and movies are amazing.

I had planned my future. Again. From New Orleans to the West Coast, I told every new friend that after I returned to Honolulu, I’d apply to teach English in Korea. By the time I got to LA, I started thinking about what to do with all that money I’d save. The website said teaching abroad is a good way to save up for grad school. I had never considered grad school because I didn’t think I had a passion. Well, after I moved to Honolulu, I discovered I liked to write. And during the road trip, I discovered I had an eye for photography. Put two and two together, and you get another plan: grad school for photojournalism!

Addendum to Change #4: Apply to teach English in Korea, stay in Honolulu until I’m accepted, buy and learn to use a good camera in the meantime, use the teaching money to pay for grad school for photojournalism after I return

So, my near future plans set. They were peer- and parent-approved. They involved travel, teaching, money, and school. That’s all that matters, right? I returned to Honolulu and told everybody I had everything figured out.

And then I met Jenn. . .

No more need for Roxy Models at the end of the posts

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