In Control Of My Life
I cried at the beauty salon, cried looking at the turquoise Caribbean Sea waves that caressed the rocks besides the highway on my way to the airport, cried while standing at the security line waving to my family behind the window glasses.
Gray, rainy day. A whole gray rainy month to be exact. It didn’t matter. I was there. In control of my life. Nothing to control yet, but whatever would come up, I was in charge. This is what taking your life in your own hands means. Lessons learned fast.
I woke …show more content…
They were coming from Omar’s dad birthday party. We got hit from the back leaving the airport. From the rearview mirror we could see a couple of teenagers in a silver car. Before they jumped out of the car, Omar and Gisela agreed to say that Gisela was driving, that way Omar’s celebratory drinks wouldn’t become a problem. My selfish problem at the moment was getting my hair wet with the drizzle after spending the morning at the salon in Santo Domingo. I could have paid not to get out of that car, but I had to and I did. As the five of us, were outside checking the damage to the cars, the young boy started sobbing while repeating: “my dad is going to kill me, he is going to kill me”. He was nervous and Omar started getting violent. The boy jumped back in his car and speed away, “forgetting” his girlfriend with us. Takeaways of the first hours in US: Be careful whom you date. Don’t drink and drive. Forget about your straight …show more content…
I had documents to work in USA, had savings, spoke basic English and had at least one amazing contact in the Entertainment Production industry. Took a month off to declutter and put myself together while waited around for one last event to confirm at work and to give a last shot to another dream work opportunity: The Athens 2004 Summer Olympics. I tried everything to make it there: Signed up online as a volunteer, tried to pull some strings to become an aide for the Dominican delegation traveling there, harassed an old flame and colleague who promised to try to get me there as part of the production team. I was only convinced that I was not going the day I watched the Closing Ceremonies. Didn’t happen. Oh well. The path is clear. Move on to next mission project: “One-Way: Laura moves to USA”.
My first days in the United States were very special. Getting a mattress, one bedding set, a cellphone, signing up at the gym, and getting other “basic needs” covered were my first outings. Then, while living three dark weekends of shuttered windows due to weekly hurricane warnings, looking for a job became again my nine to five business. At the same time, I turned into a part-time professional tourist in my new city, taking the Metrorail and buses just to see through the windows and wonder where I will arrive, living on an eternal staycation that has lasted until today and I hope I never retire.
A month later I was broke, and yet I was as happy as I could