Uh Oh…She’s Up Again

I have been staying at the hostel for the entire time I have been working at the paper. It was kinda hard to do because everyone at the hostel is on vacation since it’s a place where people stay while they are traveling so everyone is always having fun.I slept in a room that has four bunk beds. It’s actually the same room that Ruby and I stayed in when we first visited Houston.

I had the bottom bed in a bunk and my roommates rotate every few days as people roll through Houston and move on to their next adventure.The only downfall is the lack of privacy and the fact that I had to share a bathroom and shower with so many people. I was annoyed that through all the madness I couldn’t get my masterbate on. That really sucked!

I’ve been exposed to all kinds of foreigners. I met some really cute guys from Saudi Arabia who showed me this WILD youtube video called Saudi Road Skating.

I would be up late at night sitting in the common area with my laptop just blogging away and I can hear all types of languages being spoken. My pulse raced when I heard a guy from Russia on the phone. You know how in American movies, the bad guy is sometimes Russian so hearing the language scared me. LOL!

I got to know the people who worked there pretty well. The hostel is owned by a family and one of the sons, named Gordon would keep me company sometimes when I was in need of a friend. He had all kinds of stories to tell. He loves to cook and barbecue and every so often he’d buy a whole heap of meat and cook for everyone.

On those days when I was penny pinching while I waited for my first check to come in…I’d consider those barbecued meals a gift from God.

There were others there who were in transition just like me. I really felt like I was among “my people” all looking for adventure and meaning from life.I had so many conversations where people said their friends and family thought they were crazy because they didn’t settle down. We would laugh together at that notion.

The interesting part about the experience was the fact that I was usually the only Black person staying there besides Ms. Norma who helped with the cleaning. It seems that Black people don’t travel the way other races do, or at least they don’t know that there is a safe place to sleep outside of motels that are clean and cost less than $20 a night.

I stayed at the hostel for so long that they gave me a membership! The membership comes with a discount at any of the hostels in America that belong to the association.

As the weeks rolled by I continued to collect my clips from the newspaper. Through that job I met so many people and was even offered jobs on a few occasions. None of them felt right to me so I wouldn’t even consider although I knew that a newspaper wasn’t where I wanted to be.

I would sometimes fear my next assignment when it involved too much research because I’m not comfortable writing about things I know nothing about, including politics and world issues.

I’m more inclined to write about people. I love to tell their stories. I love to paint a picture of their life and the issues that they face.I wanted so badly to do a good job that I placed extreme pressure on myself. Sometimes I couldn’t sleep at night as I tried to figure out why writing these stories took so much effort and why my writing style didn’t flow easily anymore.

Over the last week, my spirit was so low everytime I went in to work. I had these three stories hanging over my head that I just couldn’t find the right voice for. My publisher was patient with me, explaining what she wanted but the words wouldn’t come.

On Thursday I became so frustrated after she told me that I didn’t do it right…AGAIN, that I ran out of the office crying and sat down int he stairwell.

I talked to God about it. If I know I’m a writer and I can’t get this right, what does that say about my future? I want to do so well so badly and I am consistenly dissapointing myself. God, I would never want to quit before I had another opportunity coming but…this hurts too much. Please give me a sign. Tell me if you have something else for me to do.

I walked back into the office and told my publisher, “I don’t think I’m a good fit for this.”

She agreed calmly but then she said the most amazing thing.”You have to know when to let go. When it’s something that is FOR YOU, it won’t stress you out like this. News reporting is not even a part of your goals in life. Whatever God brought you here for may have already been accomplished. If you want, I’ll help you find another job and you can stay here until you find one. I’ll put in some calls for you and we can still be friends. Just don’t ever stay in a situation that is hurting you this much. You will end up having a nervous breakdown!”

I felt relieved as I packed my things and went down the elevator. As I drove away I knew that this would be the last time I would drive away from this building.

When I got to the hostel I paid for one more night and I went outside to write and talk to the people out there.

I soon grew tired and went to bed. I woke up early Friday morning and I knew what I had to do. I was already on my way to visit another city. I had planned a trip for the weekend. As I packed my car and drove away I felt peace that I would not be returning.

Goodbye Houston.

We’ll see where Ms. Tee ends up next.