Something is ending And something begins

I realize//That nobody wins. Something is ending//And something begins.

Nothing really matters.

Nothing Really Matters, Frozen and Isaac are in heavy rotation on my Chinese mp3 player. I've been starting my day off with Isaac for months now and I've been just letting my mind fill in visuals to Nothing... and Frozen as I wind down from the day. I have a lot of soul searching to do.

To use a term that Carrie Fisher uses, I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. It's Alumni Weekend at Penn -- my first as an Associate Director of Classes and Reunions. That means that it's my first reunion (four classes) in my delevopment career that I've been in charge of running. This seems to be going without a hitch. Sure there are things. My 20th reunion class (Hi, Jake!) doubled its attendance in a matter of weeks -- it exploded. We planned for 125 and we're getting over 250! That's easy. One class has a seminar with a School VIP and we're worried about it since the numbers aren't as high as we'd like them to be. That's a piece of cake. I'm waiting for real-world equivalent of the dream where I attend a party naked. I'm not seeing warning tremors for the Boxing Day tsumani.

Back to soul searching, I'm contacting an advisor at Penn's Master of Liberal Arts program to talk about getting the next level of degree. This ties all in with my recent trip to Trinidad. As you may know, I had a bitch of a time getting to Port of Spain. Through my damn stupidity, I missed my connection at IAH for POS. (I didn't know that I was looking at the arrivals board for my POS flight's gate. My flight to Trinidad was schedule to take off at 1:15 as the flight from there landed at 1:15. To add to it, the arriving flight was delayed and I just assumed that my flight to Trini was going to be late.) I spent a day in Humble, TX; I did my research. It was a $44 cab, one way to downtown Houston from where I was. I was at an Econolounge that was 21 miles outside of H-town. I went to the local mall and hit the Barnes and Noble to look at the Houston and Texas Lonely Planet and other guide books, but I couldn't divine if I could get a bus from where I was into downtown. Also most of the people whom I asked, albeit very charming, polite and sweet, looked at me oddly when I suggested riding a bus versus driving.

Finally, on April 21, I am hurtling southeast across the Carrib Sea. I land, clear customs, get my bag that had arrived a day before me and take a taxi to the "upside-down" Hilton. My cab driver was South East Indian and told me that I had to drive in the front seat. I laughed. I always laugh or giggle when I get into a car built for driving on the left side of the road, because I feel like I should be driving but alas I'm not.

I ask him to reconfirm the cost of the fare in TTs, about TT$130. He then asked if I had any US$ I wanted to exchange. I didn't since I always like to hit the local ATM when I hit a new country. We get on the main road from the airport and he turns on the radio. It's the dance hit station. Oh, you know where THIS is going?!? Yea, the prior song is ending and then I hear an alarm clock... a haunting refrain of "Time goes by... so slowly"... and a borrowed ABBA riff. It was Hung Up, and I knew I'd be fine.

My driver asks me if this is disorientating being on the left side of the road for the first time. I said that it wasn't since I've driven a manual car in Ireland. I told him that it's always fun for me to be driving on the other side of the road. I think that it quieted him down, and he asked me about Ireland and Philadelphia. During a pause in our conversation, I started thinking about those places where I've been that do drive on the left: Ireland, United Kingdom, Japan, Australia, Singapore and I realized that I tend not to notice it (unless I'm crossing the street.) Even then, it just feels right. I was getting a little nostaglic.

Bam, in that moment, I saw a big silo covered with an advertisement for Milo. Ah! It's Nestlé's Ovaltine. This chocolate malt drink is forever forged in my mind with the idea of former British colonies. I saw ads for it in Singapore. I drank a good lot of it during my time in Oz.

There was something that took hold -- I'm going to be an ex pat, and I will end up living in a former British colony (or FBC as me and Rosie joke.) Sure, I'm aiming for Australia, but Trinidad, Belize, Ireland, Turks and Caicos, etc. would be fine.

How am I going to fulfill this pipe dream? I'm going to get my MLA and hone my development skills, because as world universities start moving to a US structured Development and Alumni Relations services schema, I'll be an important factor in that trend.

Something is ending and something begins.