Now I don't know where I'm going anymore. I'm wondering if I really will end up in New York. Recently, my mind has drifted off to wondering about going abroad instead. To London, Edinburgh, or Dublin. (Probably London or Edinburgh if anything, since I have basic knowledge of the arts scene there...whereas I don't know much about the scene in Dublin. I just know that I LOVE IRELAND.)
But there are problems with moving abroad. For one thing, I can't really fathom the logistics of an international, transatlantic move. I was having enough trouble figuring out how I was going to move across the country, let alone how to move to a completely different continent. I emailed an acquaintance of mine who recently moved to London and asked her to share her experience moving abroad. Based on her reply, I realized that I'd have to sell or give away basically everything I own and start over. Figure out visas and insurance and bank accounts and cell phone plans. And I have absolutely no idea how my kitty would fare on a long flight to Europe. But that will definitely be figured out, because there's no way I'm not taking him with me.
The fact that I'm honestly not sure if I even want to choreograph musicals anymore or if I'm cut out for it also complicates things significantly. But that's a whole other topic, I guess.
Not knowing where I'm going is causing me so much anxiety. While my future plans have definitely evolved over the years--I've cycled through wanting to own a dance company, to travel and study dance around the world, to be a freelance contemporary choreographer, to choreograph musicals--I've always had a basic idea of where I would go. This is probably the first time in many years that I have absolutely NO plans, and no idea what the future holds. I really, really hate that.
But at least Rory Gilmore felt the same way.