Life predictions, Oscars-style
My mundane move but if it were a massive awards show
Happy Tuesday! I’m joined today by about half of my sleepy brain, fresh off a long, sleep-deprived weekend playing sports in Saigon. I think my jumpy and imaginative Right Brain is in attendance, but the logical Left Hemishphere is nowhere to be found. So forgive me if this week’s piece is high in delusion.
Even without long nights of karaoke, I’ve been struggling to fall asleep the last couple of weeks. Occasional bouts of insomnia used to really freak me out, but I’ve come to know that they just mean something is buzzing around in my mind a bit too loudly. It didn’t take my former therapist (miss you though, Michelle<3) to tell me that I’m terrified of some massive impending life changes.
This summer, I’ll be moving from Hanoi to New York City (baby), something I am lately forcing myself to say aloud despite the cortisol that it releases in my body to do so. All at once the move seems to have gone from something that was happening “next year” to something that is happening next season. One of the things on my to-do list this week is to make a calendar for the rest of the year, so that I can plug in all the necessary things that have to be done. Once complete, I’ll be able to see in perfect seven-by-four grids the final days of life as I know it.
I woke up today to see that my wonderful friend Ella Feldman started her own Substack with a post on her Oscars predictions. I’ve become terrible at keeping up with movies (still haven’t seen Anora, GASP), but I’ll read anything Ella writes, even if half of it means nothing to me. It was the first time in years I’d seen that familiar “what should win vs. what will win” Oscars predictions format, which got me thinking about the general disparity between our aspirational iterations of the universe and the version that comes true.
Like the cinephiles of three days ago, I still live in the period of anticipation for the future, the time before the actuality of my Big Move reveals itself. In which I can imagine the perfect outcome, and still comfort myself with the ambiguity of not yet having answers. But lately at night, when I should be sleeping, I’ve begun to wonder about the fast-approaching realities.
So, inspired by Ella and fueled by insomnia, I give you…
What should happen vs. what will happen — my Moving Academy Awards predictions for 2025
Best Actress in a Leading Role - aka finding a job
What should win…
Last year I spent all of my free time completing an online course to get my American teaching license for the purpose of being able to get a nice, stable job when I decide to move back to the U.S. Now, the only thing standing between me and that credential is two easy online tests and some paperwork. But alas, I haven’t done any of that.
If I were smart, I would stop writing this right now and register for those tests so that I can start applying for teaching roles in New York, which is actually ranked one of the best states in the country for teachers. And yet here I am, still typing away.
What will win….
I will take my handful of clips from this freelancing year, attach them to my resume, which has some significant holes in it, and send it off to all the publications that have been laying off talented people left and right for years due to budget cuts.
Then, when that inevitably fails, I will try to get a bar job in a city full of experienced service industry workers.
Best Supporting Actor - aka importing my boyfriend
What should win…
One time I was sitting in a cafe and, across the room, I witnessed a girl I knew from work at the time meet up with her fiancé. As I peeped and eavesdropped, it became clear that they were meeting, both with laptops out, to outline their plan for moving to the U.S. in two years (she a U.S. citizen and he an English one). They had spreadsheets, shared folders of documents, and dates in their calendars.
The best time for Sean (otherwise known as Irish boyfriend) and me to start planning this move would have been yesterday. And by that, I mean years ago. But unfortunately, we’d only just started dating then, and didn’t even know if we’d enjoy going on a weekend away together, let alone move continents. I guess we still don’t know if we’ll enjoy that! There’s a first time for everything.
What will win….
So now here we are, two poor planners with different passports, loads of intentions, and zero leads on visa-granting jobs for EU citizens.
And I think if I want my backup schemes to work (and avoid being learned of and foiled by the federal government), I now need to stop myself from detailing them on my little blog.
Best Costume Design - aka moving my shit from A to B
What should win…
For years, I’ve witnessed friends leave Vietnam with nothing but two carefully packed suitcases in tow. This seems to be the running standard for respectable packing. It’s an amount that says you’ve had a full life here, but you’re cool and breezy and don’t hold on to material things. It’s an amount you can bring to the bar before your flight, and after saying tearful goodbyes, you can maintain your dignity by carrying all of your luggage to the taxi at once.
I already have a pretty strong idea of which treasured items in my apartment should not be allowed to travel across the Pacific with me. They include:
My electric saw, which cost 100 dollars but has helped me make some of my most impressive crafts to date (crafts that I should also probably part with)
My collection of tulle skirts, each bought with a costume in mind but also the hope that one day I’ll be cool enough to just wear them for fashion.
The giant inflatable swan Sean bought me for pool days.
Perhaps 50 molding paperback books, half unread.
And to be honest… I’m already wounded at the idea of parting with any of it.
What will win….
I’ve known myself long enough that all my illusions of being a light packer have been thoroughly shattered. I’m certainly going to overstuff every single bag in my possession with unnecessary items that I’m oversentimental about and go to the airport on the blind hope that I’ll be assigned a kind (or at least ambivalent) agent at check-in. If I get a stickler, then I’m going to spend money that should go towards settling in New York on paying for extra checked luggage. I’ll move on if I have to, but not without my knick-knacks!
Best Production Design - aka finding a place to live
What should win…
In my grand daydreams of the future, I live in a roomy third-floor walk-up with rooftop access. There’s a charming fire escape where we drink chilled rosé in the summer and listen to the music of the city below (always a charming melody in my imagination, never a shout or a car horn). We have a spare bedroom that doubles as a well-lit workspace and a place for our oodles of guests.
What will win….
I honestly don’t know. I have no idea how people find apartments in the real world. I found my current place on Facebook and texted the landlord. I’ve googled “apartments in Brooklyn” a couple of times? They all seemed over budget, so I never looked again. Self-preservation, baby!
Best Director - aka forcing myself to leave
What should win…
Once I complete the aforementioned “calendar of the rest of the year,” I should look at the open space and pencil in times to do the “last” of the things I’ll miss about Vietnam. A last trip to Hoi An for beach and cocktails, a final hungover Sunday on the swan boats, and perhaps a list of my favorite cafes to visit again.
I can already see the Tuesday that will probably be my last dance class, and the Wednesday when I’ll likely go to my last lunchtime yoga class. The little calendar square that will say “football training” for the last time is particularly daunting, seeming somehow larger than the surrounding squares, though this is geometrically impossible.
I should probably start mentally preparing for these days to come; I should start thinking of how to best appreciate them as they arrive too quickly and pass before they’ve even begun.
What will win….
Last Saturday, sometime around 1 am in a karaoke bar drinking a poorly measured vodka coke with so many friends, I felt a sudden and overwhelming swell of my heart. It wasn’t quite sadness, but maybe somewhere between gratitude and premature mourning. And a momentary clarity through the drinks, singing, and fruity vape smoke, that this was one of those very special nights. The ones that have kept me in Vietnam for so long.
The closer it gets to the end of my life in Hanoi, the more resigned I become to the fact that there will never be enough. I could gobble up a thousand gleeful football away days and still grieve every one I never had. I could feast my eyes on West Lake every afternoon starting now and never feel full of it, and I’ll crave my last bowl of neighborhood pho the moment I reach the bottom of it.
I’ve stopped trying to prepare myself for an ending I’ll never be ready for. Partly because I know I’ll never be able to, and partly because I don’t want to prematurely numb myself to what’s left. If I’m going to cry on the flight home anyway, I think it might as well sting big time.
Best Original Screenplay - aka settling in
What should win…
I’d be wise to learn from my move to Hanoi four years ago, when I was so excited about all the new things that I nearly broke my brain from overconsumption, overstimulation, and lack of sleep. I might want to take things slow with settling into New York, to carve out days for unpacking and resting, before jumping into parties and activities. If my former therapist were here (again, totally miss you Michelle!) she would help me make a plan for this.
What will win….
But if there’s one thing keeping my spirits afloat through all the impending endings this spring, it’s the promise of all the beginnings and reunions to come. When I can RSVP a big fat “YES” to a wedding I normally wouldn’t have been able to attend. When I see pictures of my nieces growing way too fast and imagine being able to see them multiple times a year. When my friends messaged me, the other week, to say they bought concert tickets for July and they have one set aside for me.
How will there ever be time to unpack when there’s so much to come home to? Especially knowing the biggest, most wonderfully vile truth I’ve learned from these years in Hanoi: that this next stint will be over before it even begins.
The bullet points:
If anyone knows of the perfect rent-controlled two-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn with easy train access, please let me know <3
If anyone has a loose work visa sitting around that your European boyfriend isn’t using, please let me know <3 <3
If anyone is hiring a feature writer with reasonable hybrid hours and good health benefits (hypochondriac alert), please let me know <3 <3 <3
See you stateside,
Ryley <3 <3 <3 <3
PS: If you’re loving Kitchen Sink and are interested in supporting my work, you can always…
So good on many levels! And there are quite a few nyc-Charleston flights available…
LOVE this one!