Mending the Brooklyn Bridge

I have been thinking a lot lately about broken bridges and mending fences and I've come to the conclusion that those bridges can be mended, too. I think it is important to live in harmony and invite healing into your life whenever possible. The world is often a lot about hate, so why not try the opposite?


In the past year, I have said and done a few things I'm not necessarily proud of. I broke off budding relationships, as well as ones I had been a part of for a little longer. I used to think of myself as a cold and unattached person--able to let go of almost anyone like it was nothing. However, treating relationships this way (no matter how developed or not) always seems to leave me feeling a little bit off. So what now? If I see that person, I ignore them? It's just so middle school of me.


So maybe I can't take back the things I said or did to nearly ruin a relationship, but I can apologize for them and make an effort to grow into a more mature person who will hopefully handle the next situation with a little more wisdom.


I know that there are times I have let my emotions carry me, but I also know that where there may have been a dark past, there can still be a bright future.


(Dedicated to anyone who may have seen my dark side, but is willing to help me return to the light. :) Attraversiamo... "Let's cross over.")

Return to the NY State of Mind

A funny thing happened today as I drove us back from a lovely sushi lunch--I lost control. My boyfriend sat in the passenger seat as I pulled out into the street to make our way back home. He seemed listless as he uttered, "I miss this place." ('This Place' being the town where he attended college.)


The only thing I could think of was how I miss New York everyday; so I said it out loud.


--And that's what seems to have caused the whole ordeal. I could not stop complaining about SoCal and listing off things I hated about it, to which my boyfriend finally responded (and rightfully so) by asking me to quit complaining. So I became silent and immature as if that would fix my frustration... and then there they came, one at a time, one after another, they fell from my eyes that hid behind a pair of brown sunglasses--they slid down my cheeks stinging with sadness.


It wasn't his fault that I felt this way--it wasn't anyone's fault but my own. The truth is, it had been wearing on me for a while... the spending habits, the "we'll get there when we get there" attitude... I knew in the back of my mind that it was these kinds of thoughtless delusions that would keep me from my dream. I knew that I had been ruining my plans every time I bought new shoes or went out for a coffee for the fourth time in a week.


So I cried because I needed to. I cried mostly because I realized it had been about a year since I had started making these plans and originally I thought I would have moved by now. I cried because I knew I messed up and I cried because I was PMSing and isn't it true that it always feels so natural to make that sad little monkey face and cry because everything hurts worse when its backed by those lethal, loaded hormones?


As I sat in that driver's seat (now parked by my boyfriends car) I let loose of everything that had been holding me back and not only vowed to return to that full speed ahead version of myself, but also promised to always keep this dream in mind and not take for granted how horrible it feels to realize you have put the most important thing to you on the back burner.


Meanwhile, as all of this is dramatically unfolding, my poor boyfriend still sits dumbfounded in the passenger seat--wondering what he did wrong to cause such a theatrical set of tears. Don't worry, I explained how I felt the best way I could and he was perfectly supportive. He assured me that we were still young and we would make it there eventually. He assured me that he could save for our future with his new job and that together we could make it there even faster.


He is so perfect sometimes I can't even believe it. Sometimes the most horrible events can bring about the most delightful realizations.


So today as I let my emotions take over, I also let my ambition defeat my materialism. I watched from inside as my world shifted once again and when I finally quit with the tears, I was able to smile knowing that today had been an important step along my journey.

We Love New York ... in the Movies

My friend sent this to me and I got the chills and started tearing up. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

The Big (Apple) Rant

I can't believe I'm back here again! I feel like everyday my stupid shopping habits and spoiled spending make me step further away from this dream! This dream is everything to me, but how will I ever accomplish what I need to when I'm buying new FlipCams and whatever else?! I don't know what has gotten into me, but I'm at the point where I can't be more frustrated with myself.


So there is only one thing I can do to keep myself from going out and spending: I have to leave the credit cards at home again. That's right--NO MORE! Now, I'm not going to go so far as to give them to my Dad again and have them locked up... no, I will just keep them at home and trust that that will help this terrible habit!


I mean, I watch things about NYC everyday and ache to be there, yet I think it's okay to spend this way? I'm done. That's it! Every CENT I can save I WILL SAVE.


*BREATHES*


Okay, rant over. :)

It's Not Always Cold in NYC

So I realized that I might have become a little hostile toward the weather in California. It's just that I love NYC so much that I want life to be all things NYC. For example, I tend to hate on the heat in California and how it just sticks around until by the end of September you are still feeling beaten to death every time you step out of the AC.


I have sort of been dreading the looming onset of the crazy Cali heatwaves of summer this year. When it had been rainy and chilly, it reminded me of when I visited NYC so it made me feel a little more at home and cozy. When it gets super hot I feel like holing myself up for 5 months and waiting for mercy.


Anyhow, I thought it might be nice and friendly of me to recognize something I DO enjoy about the weather in my home state: those 3-5 days of blissfully perfect temperatures! You know the ones: not cold enough for a jacket, not hot enough to kill me... I think we finally got there. Now, I might be completely jinxing this by saying that because Cali weather is INSANE. We have literally had storms and the next day had sunshine, but I thought it would be nice to recognize how friendly the weather has been--that is, before it turns into the summer of burning hell.


So here's to you, Three Days of Bliss! Because it's not always cold in NYC, so I'm okay with feeling at home for a few days.
Until next time... Ciao!

An Attempt at Blocking Writer's Block

Let's just for a moment pretend that I had writer's block. And maybe this happened for about a month right as I was supposed to be working on four completely different and new stories--stories that are timely, stories that are being PUSHED. And while we are pretending let's just say I spent a whole bunch of money by going shopping instead of writing. So within this scenario, I think someone needs to be slapped. That someone being me.


Now, by saying this, I'm not totally admitting I had writer's block for a month and took it out on my credit card, but yeah, that's what I'm saying. So during this month of h-e-double-hockey-sticks, I experienced more "my-car-likes-to-die-at-the-most-inconvenient-times" dramas--one which happened to end in a speeding ticket I didn't deserve because two blocks earlier my car died and the speedometer went out. So as I'm spending valuable writing time at El Paseo dropping cash and opening new Banana Republic credit cards to get the discount, I'm also paying out the you-know-what for a ticket I don't think I deserve. All the while in the back of my head someone is screaming, "STOP YOURSELF! YOU'RE GOING TO RUIN YOUR LIFE!"


The fact that I lost my mind completely didn't change the desire to move home (My NYC, of course), it just made me keeping putting off what I needed to do to get there. It was like when I had my dad put away my credit card for a month, getting it back made me think I should use it "while I can" (I use the phrase loosely.).


Okay, and I missed one major detail: My editor keeps telling me that one of my stories is the most important of the entire tab for this event and what am I doing? Lusting after shoes?!!


So here's how it went down: I metaphorically slapped myself in the face and sat down to conquer the big one--the article that is soooo important. I got the audio, got the quotes and started to slowly piece that thing together. About a week later, it was finished.


Today it was on to story two--one on the President of the Cherry Festival Association. I met him for breakfast and we talked for about an hour. It was a lovely conversation and I'm starting to feel like I'm getting it back again.... or at least I've had enough coffee to think I've got it back again.


Next will be wrestling down a man notorious for being unbelievably busy. This all has to happen before my trip to Vegas next week.


So a message for myself (after I just spent all this time rambling about life in an effort to feel inspired):
GET YOUR BUTT IN GEAR!


The worst thing I could do is let myself get all "slumpy" again. I will not ruin my life! I will not rack up my credit cards! I will not lose New York because I'm sitting behind a smoke-screen of spending and procrastinating!


So as I sit here beside my recorder (which I am nothing without) and in front of my laptop, I have a fat, furry monster purring in my lap and I'm fighting with myself. The logical part of me says "Start--because you won't finish until you begin," and the weird, out-of-sorts writer in me says, "But I have to feel it... convince me that I do..." The trick is getting them to reason with each other.

The Itch That Never Sleeps

This is a topic I have covered many times over in this particular blog; yet isn't it interesting how so many things in life can go right, but I am still not satisfied? I have two jobs getting experience writing, I love working at Theory and getting free clothes, and I have somehow found a way to work things out with Starbucks for a while by working there very rarely. Everything seems to be falling into place, doesn't it? Not to mention my amazing boyfriend and everything I have put him through due to my own selfishness. I don't even have to pay rent because my parents are letting me live at home! I have such a sweet set up, yet I can't stop thinking about my move; for some reason, I just don't feel at home here.


Somehow it just feels like I am on a layover... the longest layover ever. It's like my life is being put on hold so I can wait to go home. I know it sounds pretty dramatic, but I think about the city everyday--every hour--every minute. I think about how my life would be there and no, I'm not so dim to think that once I get there it will be all peaches and pie. I know my life there will be full of long hours, tons of typing (if I'm lucky), and stinky public transportation; but I'm so in love with that place and everything it has to offer. I just can't wait for everything to change and my life to begin. I know I have a lot of steps to take still, but I feel like jumping as far as I can instead.


Even worse than the itch to leave is the itch to--you guessed it--SHOP. I swear, Spring and Fall are the worst times to try and save anything, especially when you work at a clothing store. I have given myself quite a bit of credit before about my abilities to resist a truly gorgeous shirt or dress, but my shield seems to have developed a peep hole which I choose to look through and find Barney's sale items and cheap, yet beautiful shoes from the mall. Now, I know I'll need a pretty solid wardrobe when I get to NYC, but for the love of God what is wrong with me? The more I buy, the more I will have to pack... and the less I can save. I guess sometimes a girl just needs an outlet... a Barney's Outlet, which happens to be conveniently located right around the corner from work. ;)


In other news, I have been given what has proven to so far be a difficult task: my editor sent me some story ideas for our local Cherry Festival and I can't seem to get a bite on anything! Now, I might be kind of busy with school and work and writing the reviews and having a boyfriend, but geez.... there has to be some time hidden in there somewhere. Maybe I'll just have to turn into the Journalist Who Never Sleeps working her but off to reach The City That Doesn't Either. (Don't judge my overuse of proper nouns--it's my creative right. :D That, and the smiley faces.)


So there you have it--my life may be busy, but I seem to be handling it okay. Except maybe those itches that just get harder and harder not to scratch.

My 'City Shell' Begins to Crack

It hurts so much to realize the thing you wanted the most might be gone in an instant. I can't make myself be who I feel I'm expected to be and that seems to get me in trouble--in many areas of my life. Sometimes you can't always be responsible or steadfast. Sometimes you can't always save all of your money and you have to let yourself spend it on something ridiculous. ...And sometimes you can't fool yourself into thinking one day you will be like everyone else.


The conversation I dread everyday of my life actually came up last night... about ten years too early. You see, I struggle everyday with the idea of having a child. I'm not pregnant or anything--I just think about this because the man I love so desperately wants to be a father one day when I don't even like children. Sometimes I think about our life in the future and I'm scared because I see him, so sweet and patient, waiting for me to come around and me not being able to.


I know he knows what a huge responsibility it will be to be a father and I honestly believe that the idea of it excites him to no end, but for me, it terrifies me that I won't be able to give love to someone because I'm too centered in my own world of goals, wants and needs. I've heard that having a baby changes you and maybe there were a lot more people out there like me before, but when they had their child, the world just shifted. I wish I could know how I would react to my baby; I wish I could know if ten years from now the only thing on my mind is having a baby.


I feel like I finally found the right person, but our relationship came along so early that neither of us knows what our future will bring. Oh, we have our ideas: I want to live in the city and become a writer; he seems to want to stay in California and become a teacher and a coach... and a father. It seems all too clear to me that he belongs here: near his family, raising a new one of his own; while I can only see my life in the city without any kids--living by fulfilling my own needs. When I try to see him there, I see the pain welling up in his eyes as he waits everyday for me to change back... back to the girl he met three years ago that was so set on becoming a housewife and doing hair for a living.


I once heard that people who choose to be confused are the ones that just don't like the idea of making a decision. I'm not sure I agree. Am I supposed to wait until one day my life leads me to become a mother? Am I supposed to throw away the best thing I ever had when I don't know what the future holds? Am I so strong-willed and selfish that I can't even begin to accept the idea of caring for another person? WILL I EVER change back?

Chinese Food with Matisyahu and ???

I find it unbelievably ironic that I am doing so much for my career, yet I don’t even have a car right now. That’s right, my car decided to go all Paranormal Activity on me again, so now it is back in the shop where it refuses to talk (it literally erased it’s computer’s memory, so the mechanics can’t figure out what’s wrong) and here I am getting rides everywhere I need to go.

Not only am I working my two jobs still, but I’m also now writing for two sources. Most recently, I have become an Inland SoCal Restaurant Reviewer for InlandSoCal.com and I’m also still writing for The Record Gazette of Banning. So in addition to getting rides to my jobs (located in opposite directions of my house), I also have to get rides to do interviews and reviews, especially if I’m really going to make my way in the writing world. To sum it up, when I say that I am determined to succeed, I MEAN IT.

Somehow wired off iced tea, I sit here in the location of my latest review, Best Wok Chinese Food, listening to Matisyahu on my computer and waiting for a ride from my grandma. I feel like such an oxymoron. From the outside, I look like some sort of successful business woman. I’m dressed in work clothes—black slacks, black button-up blouse, and a grey boyfriend blazer as I quickly type my thoughts onto my trusty, sunshine-yellow Dell. My foot vibrates against the leg of my stool and I can’t help but think about where I am.

I really am a writer, aren’t I? I mean, I write what interests me—what food is delicious—who I think is worth writing about—whatever—and people in the business find it worthy. I feel like this is only a small step toward my dream, but it’s a significant one. …And I’m happy…I’m blessed in my life beyond belief.
I feel like someone is watching me nodding and smiling as I go along in life. I swear sometimes I just get the random urge to dance and I don’t care who sees. Am I lucky as some have said or am I just being taken care of? And if the answer lies in the latter, is this an attempt to catch my attention?

I love Matisyahu—his music is positive and beautiful, yet now I seem to take from it more than I was before. I seem to be paying attention to the spiritual dimension of it more now than I have ever. I guess I want to believe that there is someone—something—taking care of me and making sure I’m smiling. Clearly not everything is going perfectly in my life; if that were so, I wouldn’t be waiting for a ride, but there has to be a reason that I feel so at peace despite the fact that I don’t currently have a car and I’m still living at home.

My inquisitive mind tells me to stay curious and find answers, while my spirit seems content to rest in this unexpected state of bliss. So for now, I have a message to this Being who is watching me in everything I do: Thank you for this… there is no way that it’s just me. Meet me for a chat? I’d like to see more of you.

Coffee Grounds for Opportunity

I never thought I would say this, but at this point in my life, I am in desperate need of a smart phone. I have gotten so busy! You would think that quitting my 40-hour-a-week office job would really free up my time, but you have to remember that that same day I landed a job as a newspaper stringer and a few days later, I was hired as a Barista.


Now, don't get me wrong: I am so in love with my life right now! I would have never imagined how much quitting the best paying job of my life would have changed it for the better. Not only am I writing for my local paper, I am also taking this time to build up my resume. I am definitely going to need these experiences before the big move.


The past few weeks have been such a learning experience in so many ways: not only am I writing more than ever, but I can honestly say I have never been so intrigued by coffee in my life. My interviews have also been very fun and informative, yet lately, I find that I have gotten more comfortable talking with people who are total strangers to me in most cases. At first it seems so awkward to walk into a person's life and expect them to bear all, but now it's just second nature. Stay curious--ask the right questions.


In addition to the features I have been composing for The Record Gazette, this week I will add blog reviews to my resume. Last Thursday, I received an email from one of my Journalism professors suggesting that I contact a woman from The Press Enterprise (a paper that covers the Inland Empire area) about doing some blog reviews on local entertainment and dining. I jumped on the opportunity and today I ended up writing my first review. I can't wait to see it posted--I really liked my approach.


As for the Lawrence Wright talk happening on Thursday night, I was scheduled to work until 9pm, but I'm hoping I will get lucky and be able to leave early although I'm not too keen on asking since this job is still fairly new.


Also, my parents ran into a woman who knows someone who works for Self Magazine in New York. I'm hoping I can get in contact with her and have lunch with her friend on the upcoming visit to the city.


Opportunites are flying in as I stand here wide-eyed and ready; I feel like now is the time I have to start proving myself to the Journalism world... no blinking!

Lawrence Wright!

I hate posting dinky little blogs that look stupid, but I just had to say it: LAWRENCE WRIGHT is going to be giving a speech UCR!!! Oh wait, most of you don't live a world where Lawrence Wright is practically your idol. Lawrence Wright is a VERY successful journalist who writes for The New Yorker! Therefore, it is imperative for me to RSVP to this thing and go so I can talk with him and network and see how he did it! I mean, this is my DREAM JOB and the guy is coming to the I.E.! Geez, this is probably the worst (from a literary point of view) post I have ever written... don't judge me for being an excited English nerd.

Move On and Up

I've learned a lot from life and sometimes just when I think that I've learned it all, life brings me back to reality. I had an experience like this today. I guess you could say that my success in starting out my career in Journalism had gotten to my head. I just couldn't help but be proud of myself. I was published again--accomplished. Someone read my work and thought I was good... in fact, more than one person did.


I had written another article for my new series running in the local paper and I was starting on my third one. The interview was done and all I needed was to put the quotes into a finished piece. It was brought to my attention that I should cover another very interesting story in a timely manner. I saved what I had done on the third article and began to immediately pursue the new subject.


The next morning I got a voicemail from the subject and was excited to jump on the new article. I got home and checked my email only to find an email from my editor explaining that I was not assigned that article; another reporter was.


At first I was upset: I had done the "grunt work" to track down the subject and I thought I would be reaping the benefit of writing a gripping piece. I guess I just had to learn that things don't always work out. Even though I disagreed with the verdict, there was really nothing I could do. I decided to pick my bottom jaw off the ground and go back to finishing the third article.


If there is one thing I can say about this whole experience of life it's that you don't always get what you want or expect. "... but if you try sometimes you just might find you get what you need!" Thank God for the Stones. At least I'm still gaining experience to reach my dream... and that's just exactly what I need.

A Spark to Light a Dream in the Distance

For once in my life I'm at an absence for the correct words. I have been published for the second time at the age of twenty; nothing can accurately describe how wonderful it feels to me. I guess, in short, I will say this: Nothing makes a writer feel more accomplished than when she pours her soul into her writing and an editor reads it and deems it worthy of publication. I could not feel more honored to have my work in the local paper this week. Hopefully there will be more successes to come.


Until next time, I'll be seeing you--you'll be reading me.

On the Corner of Gumption and Zest

In the short space of a week, I have gone from miserable in a cramped cubicle to out in the world and happy as I've ever been. Instead of discovering yet another source of corruption, I have discovered the delight of sipping the right cup of coffee with the perfect piece of chocolate. Rather than sitting at my desk waiting for my life to begin, I have made it happen. One decision can make all the difference. If I would not have written my resignation letter, I would not have already written my first article for the newspaper and started on the next one. I would not have been hired as a Barista. If that letter was never delivered, I would be waking up at 6 AM tomorrow to make my way through the 7:30 traffic to a place where I didn't belong.


Thankfully, I developed a trait that I have found very handy in the past week: GUMPTION. I was bold enough to quit the highest paying job I have ever had in order to pursue my true passion: writing. I was able to muster enough guts to do it my way and by doing that I caught the attention of two very important people who held the power to give me exactly what I wanted--and did.


The day I quit my job, I went straight to the local newspaper publication to follow up on a call I believed I was getting from opportunity. My heart must have heard correctly because one visit to that paper got me a meeting with the editor and a chance to show the world (or at least the local area) what I'm made of. By that evening I had received my first assignment as the new stringer for the Gazette and I don't think I had ever been so excited. Needless to say, I landed the interview with my subject the next morning and sent my finished article to the editor that night.



I'm now faced with the challenge of doing a series of stories similar to the one I sent in a few nights ago. I have compiled a list of about fifteen ideas, and tonight I did an interview in order to start article two of the series. I know I can handle this, I just can't wait to prove it to the world.


Tomorrow holds quite a few beginnings in this new chapter of my life: I'm being trained as a Barista at my brand new job and I'm finishing article number two (not to mention my homework).


As far as the knowledge I'm gaining, I can't think of much else to say except that it has proven to be limitless.


Yet, the most important lesson of all seems to be to have the gumption to reach for something more--I know I'll never regret it.

Wake Up and Smell the Aftertaste

The following is my resignation from my office job:

Coffee is a delicious, yet interesting drink. It smells rich, wonderful, and welcoming, yet the thing I find most intriguing about coffee is how it is made. You take coffee beans from countries around the world and grind them up into a powdery substance. You then filter hot water through them and the result is coffee. But isn’t it even more intriguing how easy it is to do this wrong? There are coffee beans sold in stores that have been ground up for months. They are no longer fresh and I don’t know about anyone else—but I can tell.

I like my coffee a little sweet and a lot bitter. It has to be “drinkably” hot, a temperature that is hard to achieve and maintain. I guess you can call me a certified “coffee-snob.” Consequently, I know when it is done right and when it is just wrong.

At the office, we make Folgers—a coffee I consider to be at the bottom of the heap. It’s pre-ground and the taste is nothing like the coffee I have learned to appreciate. It is my job to make this crap for everyone in the office each morning. The thing that kills me is as I’m scooping out those grounds I am intoxicated by the smell and even though I know the end result will be horrible, I still think I’m craving it.

I have tried it before (it was a desperate morning pick-me-up situation) and it is almost like a trick. It’s hot and smells wonderful, but when you touch it to your lips you think something is different—wrong. At first it tastes alright, but it’s the aftertaste that comes up to viciously bite your tongue.

I haven’t tried it again since, probably because I have learned from that experience. Yet each morning I still find myself holding those grounds up to my nose wishing that their result was what I was looking for.

That’s how I feel about this job; it is Folgers coffee. Walking in, my first impression was that it was beautiful and prestigious. There are many offices (not just one) and there are even conference rooms in which to hold the meetings. (Oh, and are there meetings!) There are small meetings and large ones—two people or ten. This whole office is based on the idea of holding a meeting.

I guess the point I’m trying to make is that when you smell LFOS grounds, they seem like they would make a delicious cup of coffee, but they just don’t end up living up to what you expected. It’s the aftertaste that comes right up to bite you—the arguing, the negativity, the meetings about meetings about what to do at the next meeting.

I came into this job taking a big deep breath of coffee smell—I thought it would be what I needed. I’m leaving today to wash that aftertaste out of my mouth and go in pursuit of a coffee that is more suited to my needs.

I know this resignation letter seems weird—but it was the only way I could do this and do it right. This is my way of doing things and I hope you all understand. Good luck with your future and I hope this letter inspires you to make your life what you need it to be—coffee that not only smells wonderful, but tastes exactly the way you need it to.

On Broadway...

http://www.citi-habitats.com/viewlisting.php?adID=924335&scroll=1


This apartment is so cute and cheap; can I just go already?!

NYC Go

nycgo.com


Interesting and sometimes free things to do in NY? I see hours of browsing in my future...

A One-Way Ticket to Self-Realization

The other day I was browsing online to check the prices on some airline tickets. I am preparing for my first trip back to New York in nearly six years. I couldn't be more excited about how close I'm getting to that visit. I miss that place everyday and think about how my life would be if I were already there.


As I perused the various discount ticket sites, something occurred to me: In my twenty years alive I have always looked up round-trip airline tickets, yet nearly a year from now I will be searching for my very first one-way ticket. For some reason, just the thought of it got me excited... and a little nervous. I mean, people take vacations for weeks, but they always come back home. It occurred to me that I would be taking the biggest trip of my life--with no intention of returning home.


As exciting as this concept is, I realized that no matter how much I want to go, I'll never be prepared to leave. I don't think I will ever feel completely secure in the idea that I'm branching out alone in the world to make my way in a city that I don't really know the first thing about. I mean, I know the basics: it's expensive, it's competitive, it's ever-changing...but do I really know what the heck I'm about to get myself into?


As I sat back and watched my brain try desperately not to explode, I thought of who I was... or at least who everyone has seen as me. I'm a little Californian blonde who has only lived on my own for about three months before I decided to move back home. I have worked many jobs, but have yet to find one that qualifies as my true passion. I thought to myself about the world's perception of me and who I truly am and it occurred to me that there was a difference.


I may still be young, but now I'm a little girl with big ambitions. I realized that now matter how intimidating things get, I won't let it stop me. This dream has given me such purpose and drive in life; I could never abandon it.


Most people I tell about my goal seem to expect that I don't have a clue what I'm getting into and while some of that statement could be considered true, I still feel grossly underestimated. You see, I'm not going because I think living there is going to turn out like some rom-com movie. I'm going there to work hard and achieve my dream--I am passionate about writing, so what better place would I go to for a career in journalism? Nevertheless it seems that no matter how hard I try to explain what I expect of this city, I still end up backed into a corner with a finger wagging in my face as if to say, "Don't overestimate yourself, little girl."


Why is it that being young automatically qualifies me for the Foolish Olympics? I know that being twenty and "in college" puts me in a certain category, but I also know that I have never in any way fit there. I may have had my stint as a college sorority girl, but I grew up and became who I am now--responsible, determined, and thick-headed. Why should I let the rest of the world tell me who I am when I know damn well they are wrong?


So as I contemplate my looming one-way ticket to a life I can't wait to live, I am stubborn. I will be who I know I am: a writer who is out to live her passion... and the only way to get there is to find just the right time to take that one-ticket to the bank--or you know, the airport.

Monday Morning Blues

When you work where I do during the week, Monday morning can only be described as “extra-sucky.” Not only am I very far from being a morning person in general, but I also don’t particularly enjoy my full time office job. I come to work each day waiting for it to end. I hate how negative this makes me sound, but it really is true. This is what happens when you throw a bubbly little dreamer into an office framed with black clouds.


Yes, I need to be grateful that I have a job right now—but no, I won’t stay here long. I am a firm believer in the principles of a high quality of life. I believe that it is healthy and expected of a person to work—and work hard. I just don’t believe a person should be expected to spend the majority of their life in an office where they are miserable. No one should be miserable because everyone has a choice not to be. It just depends on how hard a person is willing to work.


This principle can easily be applied to my dream of moving to New York City. I have the choice to stay in Southern California and wonder how my life would have turned out or go take the plunge and see how it is. Fortunately, I am just about as driven and passionate as they come, so I have chosen to work hard for the life I want.


Updates on the job situation will come soon…