in limbo

So I went to this party on Friday night.

I was really excited about it. I hadn't seen the people who were going to be there in a really long time and I was just excited to hang out with people my age, people who didn't have any children, people who might even be single.

It started out pretty good. I said hello to everyone I knew and caught up with them for a few minutes. I got an adult beverage to start me off. I went into the garage, where some people were playing beer pong, with some of the girls. My friend...let's call her Carrie... wanted to introduce me to a guy there, a mutual friend named....Josh. (Disclaimer: I'm using this little, meaningless story to set the tone and as an example for the point I'm about to make. This event, on its own, was NOT a big deal).

So, Carrie grabs Josh on his way back into the house and says "I have someone I want you to meet" to him. She said, "This is Sarah. She's a newspaper reporter. She's a REAL journalist. I think y'all could have a really good conversation." So he seemed impressed by my job, we talked/joked for a minute, and he said, "So you live here in San Antonio?" I said, "No, I live in Beeville." Not a minute later he had left and gone back inside.

The point of that little story is not only that it's next to impossible to meet someone once they find out where I live (although I can't help but feel if I was prettier, skinnier, etc., maybe he would've talked to me anyway, but that's another blog), but let me get to how the rest of the night went. I'll summarize. There were quite a few people there, but they weren't very outgoing. It wasn't easy to mingle. Maybe I just looked a librarian, who knows. Even so. I've been to plenty of parties where I didn't know very many people and still had a good time and found it easy to talk to anyone. I mean, hello, it's a PARTY. I thought that was kind of all in the definition.

So I was over it, feeling pretty down, just waiting for the girls I came with to be ready to leave, when Jessica (Carrie's girlfriend) said to me, "But you're past all this. You have a career. You just don't fit in with this age anymore."

And I felt better. Not 100%, because I still felt like a wallflower, but I realized she was right. Plenty of people there had full time jobs too, but they were younger than me, many of them only out of college for a year or less. I've done plenty of partying. I've done plenty of floundering and drifting. I guess this kind of goes back to my earlier post about finding a balance between having a career and a social life.

I've felt for awhile when I'm in situations like that that I'm observing it all through glass, like I'm at the zoo or something, and I'm watching these girls try too hard to look hot, guys try too hard to take them home, and it just all seems like this superficial dance where everyone's trying so hard to be cool that no one's actually having fun. I miss my overseas friends. I miss my college friends, where it was just hanging out and not a feeding frenzy.

I think what I need is to be around more people in the same place I am in. Other people who are over it but not necessarily ready to settle down. Young professionals, for lack of a better term (could I have come up with more of a cliche?). People who have stable jobs and like to have fun but are past college-style parties. I feel like I'm stuck in this weird limbo.

And I'm not sure those people exist...

....

Follow up to what I wrote last night:

What prompted me to write about that incident was I was debating whether or not I should actually apologize to him.

After writing about it and thinking about it some more, I've decided sometimes the best thing you can do for someone is to just go away. It's taken me YEARS to understand that.

the victim unwittingly becomes the assailant

So I'm trying to decide whether I think it's harder to be the one who gets rejected or the one who does the rejecting.

I'm not talking about creepers. I'm talking about genuinely nice guys.

I did a pretty dick move to someone who didn't deserve it about six months ago. (And I know, it's even worse that I'm just now giving it a second thought).

So, this guy that I've known since about my sophomore year of college expressed interest about our senior year. Let's call him Bob. I hung out with him a couple times then, always running away when someone else would come along (I hope that sentence made sense). Anyway, we remained friendly until we no longer lived in Corpus Christi and then lost touch. Note that every time I saw him it was obvious that he still had the feelings. But no real reason for me to feel guilty yet--you're not obligated to reciprocate when someone likes you, of course.

Fast forward about three years. I was feeling exasperated with my dating life and happened to mention to a friend that "I should've gone out with Bob when I had the chance. He would've been so nice to me!"

I got to thinking about that idea a little more, and through some mild facebook stalking, I learned that Bob was single and living not too far from me. So, I casually wrote on his wall, just a "how you been" type thing, and he wrote back. Before long, we were facebook chatting at work, then texting. Getting along really well, mind you. The problem with this situation was never that I didn't like Bob as a person.

A few weeks later, Bob finally asked me out on a date. I say finally because I had been waiting for it by this time. I guess you could say he was playing right into my hands, but I didn't see it that way at the time, even if it was true. So we set up a dinner date.

The night of said date, I was freaking nervous. This could've been because I hadn't been on a real date in almost two years. (Sidenote: I am really bad at dating, and I think I get worse as I get older. I think this is because I try too hard to show people the best version of myself and I get nervous and don't come off well... I could write an entire blog about that, so I'll spare you.) So, the whole time I was worried about being my usual awkward self.

I relaxed a little as the evening progressed. We did have a really good conversation and stayed at the restaurant talking long after we were done eating. But in his car on the way back to my car (which we had left at a meeting point before we had decided where to go), the nerves started to set in again. Was he going to try to kiss me? I wasn't sure I wanted that.

We got back to the parking lot and sat there in awkward silence for a minute. I took off my seat belt and so did he. That's when the panic took hold. I said something like, "Well, thanks for dinner!" and practically ran out of the car and into my car. About five minutes later, I got a text message from him that said, "You left in a hurry." I tried to laugh it off and said, "Haha, no I didn't." Lame, I know.

We had a couple of brief conversations since then. He sent me a happy birthday text on my birthday. Too bad I didn't know who it was at first because I had lost my phone, thus all my numbers, between times I'd talked to him. I guess it didn't occur to me to facebook him for it. Way to be a dick again, Sarah.

So in a nutshell, the very bad thing I did was seeking him out and rejecting him. For the second time. Going after him because I was lonely and I knew he'd be there. The funny (ironic, not haha) thing about all of it is that it never occurred to me, at any time in my life before, that I could be the evil one in a relationship-type situation. I'm so used to being the heartbroken one, the one who always gets screwed over, the one in the "friend zone," etc., etc. I honestly never thought I was capable of screwing over someone else.

I know how much it sucks to get dumped or even just when someone stops calling and you don't know why or what you did.

I guess I'm just another girl.

And the worst thing to admit (I almost didn't even write in this blog), is that in a way, it feels good to have this kind of power.

they're not here

If you don't want to read a few paragraphs of straight-up bitching, I suggest you stop reading now.

Maybe I'm just in a mood right now, but I'm pretty tired of being on the outside of things. What I mean by that is I'm tired of being the one who only gets to hang out on weekends (SOME weekends) who can't be a regular anywhere or do anything spontaneous. Who stops getting invited after awhile because people forget about me. Why does that happen? Because I'm not around regularly!

I've always been kind of a social floater, the one who never really had my own group of friends, just lots of friends who were in various groups. And I could hang out with any of them. While I've always thought it must be kind of cool to have said "group," I've just never been able to pull that off. And that's fine with me. But that's not really what I'm talking about here.

Lately, I'm just fucking lonely. NOT in a "poor me, I don't have a boyfriend" kind of way, more like a "I'm so used to being alone all the time I've started talking to myself in PUBLIC" kind of way.

I don't care about being single or not. But it would be nice to have some fucking friends around. I feel like all of my friends have moved on; they're married, dating, or they've found new, post-college grown up friends. I have a few of those, too. They just happen to be in other states/countries.

I know I have my own career, life, etc. And I love all of my friends and I'm lucky to have them. But they're not here.

I feel myself retreating inward when I'm not at work, and getting annoyed with people I don't know very well more quickly. This can't be good.

I spent the two years before I moved here having a social life instead of a career. Now, I have a career and no social life. Isn't there a happy medium?!

NYR 2011

New Year's Resolutions 2011

1.) Write more. This can be blogging, revising, writing new fiction/poetry or writing sample journalistic pieces using the exercises in Community Journalism. But I definitely want to work on and hone my craft. Like I said the other day, before I just wanted an excuse to write (professionally) because it's one of the few things I'm good at. But now, I really believe in what I'm doing. I could go on about that forever, but I'll stop for now.

2.) Read more. There are so many things I want to read and so much that I am interested in, yet I find myself watching TV or movies instead of reading. Not that there's anything wrong with the art of film, but I've just been slacking with the books. I have been doing a little better with this lately, but I would like to make more time for reading. I will probably end up canceling my DirectTV subscription during 2011.

3.) Do more yoga. Yoga, as good as it makes me feel, seems to end up taking a backseat to other forms of exercise. I end up doing a lot of cardio and strength exercises because I like to really pound it out, feel the burn, get my heart rate up and burn some calories. I would like to find a way to incorporate more yoga into my busy schedule because I think it would help me release more tension, calm down and be more centered in all areas of my life.

4.) Keep up with my dishes/laundry. I do a pretty good job of cleaning. When I get around to it, that is, and lately those times have been few and far between. I feel so good after I do it, too. I wish I could be one of those people that just stays on top of it because they can't stand to do anything else until it's done. Alas, I must accept that I will never be like that, and make the conscious effort not to be a pig. Maybe I should employ the "fake it till I make it" mantra in this category and pretend to be one of those people until I actually become one.

5.) This is possibly the most important one of all. DO NOT PRESSURE MYSELF ABOUT THE ABOVE FOUR. Seriously. I do best when I get stuff done without stressing about it, because I want to. And I need to realize that I am good enough and I don't have to perfect Sarah running around with my perfect little routine and activities all the time. These resolutions are all things I would like to incorporate into my life but not as sources of added stress. If anything, I want them to reduce my stress levels!

Disclaimer: I reserve the right to begin any, some or all of these activities while it is still 2010.

no turning back now

One of the things that used to scare me, almost to the point of turning me off, about being a journalist was how much depressing shit you learn about what's going on in the world. Things other people can just ignore unless they have a reason to know it too. I used to subscribe (though I'd never admit it at the time) to the theory that if you ignore, it will go away. Maybe it will even cease to exist, and we can go on in our little comfort zones, our little places of imagined reality that we create for ourselves so we can pretend we aren't scared out of our minds for the future, for the fate of our planet, and for what happens in real tragedies, and, of course, after this life.

You can't do that when you're a journalist. Maybe you can if you're limited to magazines about fashion or fine dining. And I'm not knocking those people; I kind of envy them sometimes. But at least in the world of newspapers, life is about as real as it gets. Depending on what you cover, you can see fatal car wrecks, terminally ill children, environmental disasters, heinous crimes, and people just being flat out ridiculous, stupid, and mean to each other. The other reporter at my work says you just have to not let yourself think about it and do your job. That's true, and actually easy enough to do in the moment. But it can be hard to separate your own humanness from what you're covering sometimes too.

Another side-effect of being a journalist is becoming more interested and in-tune to national and world news. I've always been mildly interested (I don't think I would've entered this field if I wasn't), but I wasn't a regular follower until I began looking at news from the inside out. And so, consequently, I've learned about all kinds of things that terrify me, including but not limited to the ever-looming effects of climate change, the fragile economy, irreconcilable differences between Republicans and Democrats, and the list goes on. I'm interested in the news both as a concerned member of planet Earth and as an up and coming journalist trying to hone my skills. However, I can no longer find solace in the lie that these catastrophes are geographically far away or at some indiscernible point in the future that, according to my lie, will never actually arrive.

The joke would be on me, if I continued down that path. I'm too connected to it now. I'm all in. I'm no longer a displaced English major who just wants any excuse to write for a living. I'm really a journalist. And it's my job, my duty, to be aware of terrible things (and good, encouraging ones too, but for purposes of this blog, I'm making a point) and to raise awareness so that readers stay informed and have the power to make good decisions. I'm not writing for myself anymore, I'm writing for the world. And as egotistical as that sounds, I really believe it and for the first time, I feel like I'm doing what I always wanted deep down--making a difference.

(I want to leave what I've written above as it is but I feel I owe it to the woman I interviewed this morning and to my (if any) readers to mention that I came to these realizations, although I'd been on my way to them for awhile, because of something she said to me. She was telling me about her four year old grandson who was just diagnosed with muscular dystrophy and will probably be in a wheelchair by age 12. She gave me a diagram of how children with MD tend to get up from the floor, using their hands because of muscular damage to their legs. Her point was that her grandson had been doing that, and it was one of the things that tipped off the doctor to have him tested for MD. She wanted me to print the diagram with the story, and she said, "If other people see this, and they see a child doing this, they'll know something might be wrong." That was when I knew that this was more than getting people to donate to the Muscular Dystrophy Association or have sympathy for an unfortunate little boy. This was a way to potentially help someone make their life better by having all the information. I'm going to try to remember that on all my assignments.)

happy birthday to me...

So, 25. I really can't believe I'm 25. Not that I think it's that old because I really don't, but it's just a surreal milestone. Knowing that my early 20s are over and it's already been four years since I turned 21 is just crazy. In some ways, however, I can believe it. So damn much has happened in the past few years that I can definitely believe I've reached 25. But it has gone by pretty fucking fast. And it seems like a slippery slope from here. I don't mean that in a negative way, but if I think about how far away 25 felt when I turned 20, it did eventually get here. And kind of soon, even. That just reinforces that 30 will be here someday, then 35, 40, etc. But there's no use worrying about that. Who cares? I resolve to be happy and live life to the fullest (as cheesy as that sounds) at any age. And living life to the fullest I think means different things at different stages in life. Living life to the fullest to me now means something totally different to me now than it did at 21. For example, part of living life to the fullest is throwing myself into my job and doing my best, not sleepwalking through it because I'm hungover.

This is the best place I've been in my life in several years. Most stable, anyway. Maybe that's because your frontal lobe is supposedly fully developed by the time you turn 25. Who really knows?

It's been really nice to hear from old friends today. It makes me feel less alone in the somewhat isolated existence I lead. I can't say I have no regrets, but I'm definitely optimistic. I started my day this morning with my mom calling me (before my alarm went off) and singing "Happy Birthday" to me.

Now that I've gotten my bearings and celebrated an important milestone (because I'm sorry, even if I don't become legal to do something, 25 is still a milestone), I plan to throw myself into this new life chapter even more. That is all.

quiet awe

Ok, so I've fallen off the wagon with Project 365, but making yourself blog every single day is really too much. I think, as with everything else, I just need to find a balance. I want to blog much more regularly than I was before, but there's no need to do it everyday. I have a life, after all.

So last night, I drove to San Antonio on a whim to watch the meteor shower. I did not have to do it there, but a.) I didn't want to go traipsing off to the country in the early a.m. hours by myself, and b.) I was going to meet up with a friend in Corpus, but the forecast there wasn't as good, so San Antonio it was.

Lately, I haven't been as spontaneous as I used to be. I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing. I think there's something to be said for having a little bit (but not too much!) structure in one's life and doing wild, crazy things all the time. When I was doing that stuff, most of the time, I was having a lot of fun, but I was also really unhealthy. And after awhile, it's not even so fun anymore. I don't need to stay out till 4:00 in the morning for no good reason and then feel like crap for the next few days. I just don't. I mean the "just because I can" thing has gotten really old. I'm not 18 or 21 anymore. I feel like I definitely lived up those times in my life, and even though I fully plan to keep having awesome adventures that I hope will only get better with time, you just can't live like that forever.

That being said, what was cool about last night--well, the meteor shower in itself was pretty cool, so what was EXTRA cool about last night was that I DON'T do stuff like this all the time anymore, so it was even more fun. I planned it right too. I took a nap after work, drove to SA around dusk, stopped by my friend's place where we gathered essentials, picked up a couple of other people, and drove around outside the city till we found a nice dark place to park and look up at the stars. Before last night, I think I could probably count on one hand the number of shooting stars I've seen in my lifetime. Not anymore. It wasn't exactly like those photos you see where it just looks like there are comets raining down from the sky (I wish!). But we did see one or two every few minutes for a couple of hours, and it was fun to just gaze up and hope you caught the next one. It was a quieter kind of awe-inspiring experience.

And of course, in the meantime, it was nice to just be among good company, having real conversations with no electronics, no bar scene, nothing commercial, not even in view of the city. I'm tired today, but I'm definitely glad I went, even if it was too dark to capture a meteor in a photo. I guess that would've ruined the no-technology part of the evening anyway. It's nice to take advantage of these moments when they come along without running around like a chicken with your head cut off chasing them down.

behaving like a normal person

I'm really only writing today in order to keep up with Project 365. I am tired.

I'm excited because someone is coming to see me. She will be the second person to see my apartment. The first was my mom.

Well, my itunes addiction is alive and well. I have bought something like 4 albums in 4 days. Plus episodes of Entourage. Oh, well. As long as I can pay my bills, who cares how I spend my money, right? It's not like I'm buying drugs (although it is, in a way). The interesting thing about is that if I look back at my various music buying binges over the years, they tend to happen when I'm stressed out or displacing some kind of strong emotion. The thing now is that I don't really feel that stressed. If I am, I don't know what over. I'm trying really hard at my job, but it's all going well and I like the people I work with. I've recently achieved a lifestyle change in which I make healthy (but delicious!) meals at home rather than getting take-out. And I've exercised regularly for 3 weeks consecutively now, which is probably the longest I've gone without falling off the wagon in slightly over a year and a half. It's not even hard to do. Maybe I've finally reached a place where I can behave like a normal person.

I'm a little stressed--no, concerned--about the aftermath of the date I went on last weekend. As in, I'm worried there won't be one. Worried is even a strong word, though, because I don't feel that I need anyone. I didn't even want to date anyone at all until I met this person and really liked him. So I like him and I'll be disappointed if nothing further happens, but it won't be the end of the world like it used to be. I'm not going to spend hours wondering what's wrong with me or why I seemed to miss the guy-attracting gene. I don't need it. Anything in that area would just be a bonus to my already happy life. And if it wouldn't be a positive addition, it just won't be one.

Ok. That's all for today.

what's the rush?

One of the major things I'm working on right now is learning to slow down. I have this natural tendency to rush through everything, almost blindly, and just steamroll over everything I do as quick as I can. I'm thinking maybe that's not the best plan.

Here's an example. A couple of weeks ago, Jay (my editor) talked to the whole editorial staff (well, everyone who shoots photos, which is about 4 people, including him) about how we need to take better photos. He specified that he wasn't talking about action photos (I'm actually pretty good at those, as are Gus and Bryan). He was referring to artsy photos. You know, ones with mirror reflections and close-ups on people's tears and size illusions, etc., etc. Yeah, I will admit that I have zero ideas when it comes to those. I'm still getting the hang of proportions and lighting and camera settings in normal photos, let alone trying to do something creative. I want to learn though. It's just not easy for me. But I also need to learn how to really work on things I'm not naturally good at anyway.

So, how this is related to my need to slow down is that it never seems to occur to me to take my time and try out an artsy photo when I'm in the moment shooting. For instance, today, I was shooting photos of this really old historic house that's being renovated. I got plenty of shots of the house being painted and all that, but it didn't occur to me till I was driving back to the office that I probably could have tried something unusual. In my defense, the house was so torn up that it might not have been possible anyway. But the point here is that I didn't even think about it until it was too late. I'll have to try my hand at the artsy stuff tomorrow when I shoot marching band practice.

On a similar note, I have really been trying to be the best I can be at work. Yesterday, Jay was out so I didn't have him to turn to or ask questions. I got a lot done actually, and I was proud of myself. But here's an example of how I thought I was being really good and proactive and I totally didn't even think of everything. I got an email from the assistant superintendent about how the district ratings are in. She had done a nice write-up, and all I really had to do was edit it. But it didn't have any quotes, so I called her and asked her a couple of questions. The reason this was proactive of me was that no one asked me to do it. I took it upon myself. So I turned in the story. Well, today, Jay asked me to talk to the superintendent herself about it to add to it even more. I had thought about that yesterday, but the superintendent is brand new. She wasn't even here last year, so she had nothing to do with those ratings. Jay brought up that it would be interesting to get her perspective BECAUSE she's new and we could ask about her plans to improve (I did ask that question to the assistant). Well, that was a good point. So I called and asked for her but she's out till Thursday. Our paper, and this story, comes out on Wednesday. Good job, Sarah.

And, more than that, two of my bosses today asked me if I had found out about ratings for the other two districts in our county (which are both tiny). I hadn't, but only because I thought that we had already gotten them and those stories had run a couple of weeks ago. Apparently, that was something else.

So the moral of this story is that if I think things through a little further, maybe I can avoid some of these stupid mistakes. I know I'm still learning, and I have come lightyears from when I started already, and I've only been here 3 1/2 months. I just hate it when I try so hard to do a good job, my best even, and I still mess up or leave something out.

And really, what's the rush? It's not like school, where the sooner you got done, the sooner you could be free. This is life. It doesn't stop.

my sneaking suspicion

I have a sneaking suspicion that all that time Gus* (name changed because this is, after all, a published site) spends away from the office he is NOT covering stories.

Oh, sure, a lot of the time he is. He goes and gets the updates from the sheriff's office and the police department. But I also know that he's pretty chummy with those cops. So I bet a lot of that time is spent visiting. And I know he runs his errands during work hours (although we all do that). Maybe tomorrow I'll go out driving around looking for wild art (random pictures to put in the paper). In between the time I'm writing yet another uranium story, taking pictures of marching band practice, and laying out pages for Wednesday's issue.

So why do I suspect this about Gus, aside from the fact that I stretch my time away from the office too? Because my very first day, he spent the morning driving me around, introducing me to people and showing me important places. Very helpful, considerate, and even job-related. But did we actually cover anything that morning? No. And then, when I got robbed, he spent an afternoon driving me around to look at apartments. Helpful? Yes. Am I grateful? Of course. I guess the bottom line here is that Gus is pretty much his own boss and no one questions it when he is gone for hours at a time.

I don't think anyone questions when anyone is gone for hours at a time, for that matter. Jay (another name change) himself told me that I could take a long lunch once in awhile if I wanted and everyone would just assume I was out on assignment anyway. It's pretty laid back around here. Not that I am complaining. I pretty much have the perfect work environment. If I did have any complaints, I wish it was just a little busier. We have plenty of busy days, but also plenty of slow days in between. Of course, years from now, when I'm working at a bigger paper, hopefully one of the major ones, I'll probably long for the lazy days back in Beeville. Funny how that works.

It sure is a different world down here. I knew that, from my time living in Corpus. But I still had to get reacclimated after living back in civilization for a few years. I realized today that I have now lived here in Beeville for slightly longer than I lived in San Antonio. When September arrives, I will have been here longer than anywhere else I've been in the past year. And by November, I will have been here longer than anywhere else since I left Corpus in July 2008. Wow. I thought that would make me feel trapped, but (even though I definitely don't want to stay here forever) it actually makes me feel less out of control than I usually do. I say "usually," but maybe that's just because I've felt out of control during the past couple of years of bouncing around. Who knows. Anyway, that's all for today.

I'm on my way to believing

So last night I went on what was probably the least awkward date I've ever been on. That's really all I want to say about that at this time, partly because I don't want to jinx anything and partly because I don't know who actually reads this. I'll say a lot in writing, but some things are just TOO personal. Ok, but one more thing about it was I realized I don't have to hide some parts of my past that I think don't make me look that great. People understand when I tell them I left Korea early and chose to start my writing career. They also understand when I accidentally tell them a story about one of the drunkest nights of my life (this particular one was spraining my ankle on 6th street). Maybe all this means is that not everyone is as judgmental as I am. Or that I hold myself to a higher standard than I hold other people, or that anyone else will ever hold me to.

So I stayed at one of my oldest friend's houses this weekend. I don't like it, but we are very different people now. I mean, don't get me wrong, I like to party. But I don't feel the need to keep pretending I'm 18 and stay at house parties until 4 a.m. I mean, I'll go, have a few drinks, have a good time, and then go home and go to sleep. I'm sorry, I just don't want to feel like shit all week because of one night (I mean, if it's a special occasion, sure, but I save my party panties for nights that really deserve them now). The same goes for bars. I enjoy bars, but I don't need a marathon bar hop every weekend. I don't need to try to outdrink anyone or care if people are judging how much I am or am not drinking. I'm not going to pretend drunk driving doesn't bother me anymore. It does. I work at the news; I know how serious it is. I hear about every single fatal crash in 3 counties. No, thank you. I'm not 21. I don't think I need to act like I am.

I don't mean that to sound negative about this particular friend. I just find it hard to hang out with her for long periods of time now because it's almost like I'm not exciting enough for her and her group of friends. Maybe part of it too is that right now, I feel very content with who I am, where I am in my life, etc. And when she and I were a part of each other's daily lives (going all the way back to high school), I always, always felt like I was living in her shadow. She was faster and more athletic than me, she graduated one rank ahead of me, and she was the one the boys liked (maybe we spent TOO much time together back then). And even now, when I'm around her, even though she's a ton of fun to hang out with and knows me better than a lot of people, it's hard not to feel like no matter what, she's outdoing me in some way. I used to constantly compare myself to other people, and I've done a really good job recently of not doing that anymore, but when I'm around her, old habits die hard and sometimes I just have to ignore all the things about her and her life I could be jealous of.

I realize that in that last paragraph, I just exposed one of the darker sides of myself. I try not to censor, so that's going to happen sometimes. But I think I needed to get that out. It's been festering for awhile.

I'm still cautiously happy from my date last night. Hence why I quoted Paramore, one of my favorite bands, in the title of this entry.

waking up on a lovely Saturday

As I promised myself, I am writing my next entry before Saturday is over. It's barely noon, so I'm kind of proud of myself.

So this morning, Erica and I rode our bikes around her neighborhood. There are some really pretty streets here. Big, beautiful trees and scenery, big, pretty houses. Not monster cookie cutter houses either. Old, unique houses with personality. Those are the best kind. And some cool old buildings and parks and stuff too. There were a lot of other people out riding/walking/jogging too. It was just a nice morning and not too hot yet.

Now, I'm alone in Erica's house for a little while. Erica had to work this afternoon, Marcus went to the golf course, and Erica's dad and brother went to meet up with an uncle or something. I am waiting here for Cristina to come pick me up for the afternoon. We're going to lunch and then to get pedicures. I don't know what we'll do after that, but I do know that later on this afternoon/evening, I need to get ready for my date (yes, you read that right...I, of all people, have a date tonight). I'm pretty excited about it but trying not to put too much pressure on it. I'll just need to decide what to wear (with assistance, of course) and do my hair and makeup. I want to look natural too, though, not too glammed up. I want to look like me, just the best version of myself.

This morning, after our ride, I copied a bunch of music from Erica's computer to mine. I only lost about 200 songs with the whole stolen computer thing (thanks to my ipod!), so I replaced some that I had lost that she had and added some new ones too. Seriously, getting robbed may be the best thing that's ever happened to me. I feel so much more...clear than I had been feeling the past couple of months... or years. But I said that in conjunction with the music thing because now, my music library is better than ever (and if you know me at all, you know that's VERY important to me), and I probably never would have taken the time to sit down and look through Erica's music files if this hadn't happened.

That's just one small example of how my life has improved since the burglary, but in a way, it still sums up the culmination of everything. I'm taking the time and effort to do things that I wasn't before. I appreciate what I have more. I haven't just let myself have such a good time bike riding as I did today and last week in a really long time. Before, it just felt like a chore. But now I'm not letting it stress me out (after all, the whole point of it is to relieve stress, not to create it), and I'm just enjoying it. The same goes for cooking, keeping my apartment clean, visiting friends in other cities, using my new awesome macbook, and even watching the few DVDs I've gotten so far to replace the stolen ones. I guess I just feel like me again. I think I had lost that for awhile. And at my job too, I'm starting to give 100% again (well, most of the time). I guess sometimes, you just need a swift kick in the ass.

I'm not saying my life is just perfect now. I don't want to make anyone, including me, vomit, and besides, that isn't true. I still have a lot of stuff I'm working through/on, and I'm sure I always will. The point is that I'm letting myself be happy. I commented on a friend's blog one day last week (who is also in the process of rediscovering herself) that I had thought for the past couple of years that I just felt like I was sleepwalking, and I was waiting for something to come along and wake me up--I guess something that I thought would be worth waking up for. I went halfway around the world and didn't allow myself to wake up. What I told her was that I'm realizing more and more that I have to make myself wake up no matter where I am or what I'm doing or I'm just going to miss everything and never have any kind of experiences at all. I wish I could've seen that before, but I guess all of those experiences--the good ones too--and regrets finally led me to this point.

I'm awake now.

if not now, when?

Ok, so I realize that it's technically Saturday already because it's after midnight. But since I haven't gone to bed yet, and I haven't blogged yet today, I'm still counting it as Friday. So, I just have to blog again on real Saturday (as in sometime between the time I wake up tomorrow and then go to sleep again tomorrow night...meaning Saturday), and I'll be right on schedule. I'm going to try not to let this happen again though, unless I don't have internet access for some reason (like I'm out of town and can't get wireless or whatever), and then I'll just have to blog in a pages document and copy and paste it here later.

Anyway, so first of all, I don't get what's up with people deleting friends on facebook. I get it if you were dumb enough to accept a friend request from someone you didn't know and you're thinking that in hindsight, that was really stupid. And I get it if you need to cut yourself off from an ex. I've done that one before. But don't delete me just because we were friends in high school but I haven't seen you in the past 7 years. If we were friends then, just because we're not part of each other's daily lives now doesn't mean that we can't still be friendly and can't remember the good times. To me, deleting someone like that is kind of like saying, "you were never important to me." Or like saying, I never want to talk to you again. Excuse me, but if I randomly saw you on the street somewhere, I would still want to have a conversation with you just to catch up. If I didn't, I wouldn't have accepted your friend request or sent you one in the first place. That's all I have to say about that.

Next. I get insanely jealous when people start talking about making plans to take overseas trips (this literally just happened about half an hour ago, and I didn't enjoy it). I know it's stupid, and I know I've spent more time overseas than most people will in their entire lives, but I do. Maybe it's the whole travel bug thing and how it's just something that you can never get over if you have it. And that I still want to see and experience so many more places. But it's also that I still haven't totally forgiven myself for not trying harder to make it work in Prague (of course, hindsight's 20/2o...I couldn't really see or understand those mistakes till months after I had made them...and of course I learned from them, but I can't help feeling like I paid a terrible price) and, of course, leaving Korea early, though I couldn't see the ramifications of that decision at the time either. Maybe some of that comes with age. I just couldn't see past how I felt in the moment, but I feel like I am learning how to do that now. I'm not crazy about having to live in Beeville away from my friends and family. But I know that if I stick with my journalism career (which I really, honestly do love), it will pay off. I've already learned so much. If I stick it out for awhile, I can learn more and get so much better at what I'm doing. Then, I can move on, probably go pretty much wherever I want next, maybe even go to journalism or publishing grad school (after I make more headway on my current loans, of course), and travel again someday, maybe even as part of my journalism career. That would be fucking awesome (really no other way to say that). Kind of a dream I've always had but never dared to admit to myself until now.

But despite all of that and how amazing it could be one day (even if I just move back to the DFW area, which right now, is something that I'm seriously considering for my future), it's not what matters now. What really matters is that I be content and appreciate where I am. I need to be happy now. If I don't let myself do that, I'll just always be chasing something and never letting myself just live in the moment and enjoy the good things I have. Right now, I live 60 miles from the coast, 80 miles from San Antonio, 3 hours away from a good portion of my family, and most of my friends live reasonably close to me. Plus, I really couldn't ask for a better newspaper to start out at. Yes, I'm in Beeville, yes, it sucks to be in South Texas sometimes (a lot), but I can't focus on that part of it.

Anyway, I'm starting to gross myself out because I'm sounding like one of those cheesy motivational posters. And I promised myself that I would stop writing blogs like this because they just end up being the same all the time (all though in some ways, they're good because I need to work this stuff out, and I'm still in that process). Next time (tomorrow), I WILL write one telling a story about something that happened recently. I WILL. So, for now, good night.

Actually, I'm going to leave you with one of my favorite Jimmy Eat World quotes:

If I don't let myself be happy now, then when? If not now, when?

there is light at the end of the quarter life crisis tunnel...i think

So here goes Project 365 Day Two. I wonder how long it will take before I stop beginning my entries with whatever day I'm on.

So I'm happy in my job. For the most part. And I know there are no perfect jobs, and it's easier to think that the grass is always greener. I feel like I'm good at my job now, at least most parts of it. I'm a very, very weak photographer. Like I totally screwed something up this morning (although I think I may be having camera issues). And I know I can't expect to be perfect at everything, especially when I haven't even been working here (or anywhere like this) for 6 months. I guess I really am a perfectionist, even though sometimes I can be lazy and/or careless. I'm trying really hard to just do my best at whatever I'm doing and not to halfass anymore. I've gotten reeeally in the habit of halfassing over the years.

Anyway, so the issue is this: I like my job. I really do. But I miss kids. (NOT toddlers, just kids). I miss teaching. I miss traveling. Every time I see a friend's status about Korea or Prague or anything like that, I feel serious pangs. And I know I'm paying my dues, if I really want to be a journalist. I know I won't be here forever. I know I can still travel, eventually (if I ever get any vacation/make any more money). But I still feel like I never completely fulfilled my dream of living overseas because I came home early both times. And I know that I made it further than a lot of people who are interested in that kind of thing, but that doesn't really make it easier now.
In some ways, it probably makes it harder because if I had never gone, sure I might still want to do something like that, but it wouldn't feel like I failed at something that should've been(and was, if I could've just woken up and realized it) really awesome. Maybe I'd be content to just be living in Texas, working at a newspaper, leading my little life. Of course, who knows. Maybe not.

Not that it matters now anyway. I am where I am, and I'm damn lucky to be here. And when I think about where I was and how I felt a year ago, jobless and living at home, I feel even luckier.

And, the other thing that eats at me from time to time is that I am actually, for all my travel bug issues, really homesick for North Texas. Not Granbury specifically, but I would really like to go back to the DFW area. Fort Worth, if possible. If I don't end up going back to Korea next year, I will probably just stay here at this job for another year or two, racking up that experience so that next year or the year after, I can hopefully find a job back in civilization (civilization to me means Dallas, Fort Worth, Austin, or Houston). Maybe I will even go to grad school for journalism someday, after I pay off more of my existing loans. Maybe I will go for one of those jobs in D.C. you have to have 3 to 5 years of experience for (once I get that much experience, of course). Maybe I'll do an Americorps gig for a year either before or after J school to help pay for it. Who knows? Just because I have a career now doesn't mean I have to stop having dreams or goals. Maybe now I can actually reach the goals I set. And it doesn't mean I can't do new and exciting things. I need to remember that.

P.S. I want to write more blogs that actually tell stories about things that happen to me in my day to day life. I need to remember that too and stop going on and on about this same bullshit.

Project 365 and making up the truth

I've been thinking about doing a blog project-type thing for some time now. It would be just for me, a journal more than anything else, and it might even be pretty boring to anyone who reads it but me. But as I've said before, the mere possibility that someone might be reading this motivates me to write it more than if I knew without a doubt that no one would see it. That might be narcissistic or self-indulgent, but it's true. But who knows, I might get some stories worth keeping out of this project.

The project is "Project 365," a title stolen from my friend Alison, whom I met in Korea. Her Project 365 was a photo thing. She had to take at least one picture everyday for a year (the year she was abroad, obviously), and if she took more than one on a particular day, she would choose her favorite to be included in the Project 365 album. Well, I'm going to apply this concept to blogging. It's sort of similar to the Julie & Julia idea, but without a specific focus or theme (I was going to try this in Korea, but we see how well that worked out). I've written a few things in the past couple of years (a couple of stories and poems, but mostly blogs), but I feel like I need something to really get my writing going again. When I was in the middle of all my creative writing classes, I would just sit down at the computer and crank out stories or poems (they would need revision, of course, but I could get the basics down easily). Now, when I try start writing something new, I feel like I have absolutely nothing to say (even if I feel like I started out with a good idea, I can't get going). Which is ironic because when I was doing all that creative writing in college, I felt like I didn't have enough life experience to write really good stuff. Now, I have probably at least twice the life experience I did then, and I can't get the words out. So maybe if I write about my life as it happens each day, it won't feel like such a big task. I guess the bottom line is at least I'll be writing. And today, this entry, is the first. I will do this everyday until July 28, 2011, and just see where it takes me. (That's another thing I need to work on... waiting to be taken places and not forcing it... from my experience as a reporter and learning about other people's lives, the people with the most interesting ones just kind of went with the flow).

I write at my job, but it's not quite the same. It's fun to write newspaper articles, especially features, but it's different when the content isn't coming solely out of your own head. It's not as much of a challenge when you don't have all the info in front of you, and stuff is either true or it isn't. I guess the real challenge is making up the truth however you want it to be for that piece. But on that note, don't we, at least on some level, make up our own truth all the time? Things are only as we perceive them....

not the destination

Starting Over....Yet Again

Today I finally understood what people mean
when they say it’s not about the destination.
It’s the journey that really matters.
all this time,
no matter where I’ve been,
-and I’ve been a lot of places-
I’ve been so worried
about where I’m going
next, what I’m going to do.
And
while it’s nice
to have goals in mind, I really need to enjoy
where I am and
what I’m doing
NOW
because you know what’s waiting for me when I get to that destination?
Another journey.

No one is allowed to judge that poem/paragraph. I'm not pretending it's good. It just describes where I am in my life right now.


This whole experience (the robbery and aftermath) has been very cleansing for me. It was like a rupture in time. Like I was hurtling down this self-destructive path and it took somebody else, people I didn’t even know, to take MY things away from me (rather than me cheating myself out of what should be mine) for me to get my ass in gear. And while it’s always true that moving gives you a chance to kind of start with a clean slate, this is an even bigger new starting point for me. I have some new stuff, including this computer, I’m minus some old stuff (which I’ve realized was mostly just weighing me down, mentally, emotionally, and physically). I replaced what was really important to me, and I’m not worrying about the rest of it. I’m not saying it didn’t suck to lose some of that stuff, but honestly, it’s just stuff.

And I’m more sure than ever now of what I want my next destination to be. However, I am de-freaking-termined to enjoy this time, being within reasonable driving distance of most of my friends and family, having a big-girl job, being a journalist. The distance I’ve had from my old life these past 6 months or so has made me realize what, of all my endeavors, is what I really want to do, long-term. And also that while we all have talents, you can’t expect to be perfect at something right away. Everything takes learning and practice. And a whole hell of a lot of self confidence. And perseverance. Trying your best and giving yourself a break is all you can ask of yourself as long as you know you’re giving what you can.

I know where my heart is: in writing AND in teaching. In a way, that surprises me, but in another way, I think I’ve always known it. I want to write more than I have been. I have all of those great ideas for stuff to write, but I never actually write what I think of. I want that to change. And I want to write what I want and be able to put myself into it, rather than the unbiased news. Audrey was right; reporting and writing are different. And while I’m not doing my usual and coming up with all the reasons why I hate what I’m doing (and I don’t hate it, not at all), I have realized what I want. I want to write, and maybe even try to get published, on the side of my teaching career. I want to go overseas, finish what I started, see A LOT more of the world, save up some money, pay off my loans, come back to the U.S., and become an ESL teacher at home. That was when I felt the most useful and had the biggest connection with my students--when I subbed in ESL classes in Granbury. And also with some of my classes in Korea....

I think I’m done for now. And I think we all know I reserve the right to change my mind at any time.

confessions of a badass

I wish I could be the person I am when I write--all the time. When I write, I can say what I mean and be myself and it just comes out. I don't have to think about it or analyze it, I just know it's true and I don't care what anyone thinks. I can say what I can't say out loud.

Very few people know the real, uncensored me. The one that doesn't clam up and can find the words easily. The one who says what she really means and doesn't have a lack of confidence.

I've gotten close to several friends lately who I went to college with but didn't know very well (or at all) at the time. I feel like they have a good idea of who I am. But I'm not as vocal around them as I could be. I guess that will come with time.

I don't feel as nervous as I used to. I've had a few people tell me I'm a badass. I don't see that. I see that maybe I project that because I feel inadequate in other ways. Then again, a friend I met in Prague last year tells me I'm a badass even though she's seen my insecure side. Maybe being a badass doesn't mean you're 100% secure 100% of the time.

I find it pretty easy to talk to people I don't know. I just wish it took me less time to completely open up to people. I mean, maybe nobody opens up that much immediately. And I am very guarded. I don't know how to change that. But I think I'm worth getting to know.

Maybe part of me will always feel like the nerdy girl who never gets noticed.

All of this said, life has been pretty darn good lately. I just wanted to get that stuff off my chest. I'm finally starting to feel comfortable in my own skin and like I really belong. Maybe part of that comes from finally doing something I know I'm good at. And just being able to be, without thinking about where in the world I'm going to go next and what I'm going to do when I get there.

getting past the freak outs

Things have really fallen into place lately.

I love my job (despite my ongoing battle with InDesign), I just joined a bike club, I'm reasonably close to most of my friends, and I guess..mainly, I just feel like I've regained control of my life.

I'm not going to say things are perfect. I get lonely sometimes, and sometimes really freaked out at night alone in my house. I still worry that I'm going to be alone forever, even though I'm okay on my own right now. There's just no one really to hang out with here. My job isn't perfect either, but I love it and I know I'm doing something that I'm good at and I like, which means I finally have a career! That's the main reason why I finally feel in control.

And I do still think about traveling and being overseas a lot. I really miss that. I miss the adventures, the people, the food, the randomness... but you can't have it both ways. I wish there was a way I could travel like that and still do what I love for a job. Because when you abhor your job, everything else in life kind of has a cloud over it too. And there are certain things I can't do overseas, like train for bike rides and triathlons, cook what and how I want to (which usually results in me eating really unhealthily which leads to other negative effects). But I do kind of wish I could say I spent a year in a foreign country, not just a few months here and there. But still, a lot of people can't even say that. I wouldn't trade my experiences. And for me, as much as I wish this wasn't part of it, it was all a part of me figuring out who I am and what I want. I couldn't just go and chill out like most people do. I was really looking for something (although I didn't really know that at the time). Do I wish I could've let go and just gone with it? Sure. But I wouldn't be where I am now otherwise, and by the end of all that, I was really, reeeeally ready to have a big girl job (that wasn't teaching) and be out on my own.

Maybe someday I'll get to be a traveling journalist. That would be the ultimate career goal for me. For now, I'm just trying to keep my eyes on the stars and my feet on the ground. That's a quote, I can't remember who from, but it's the balance I need to keep.

The other thing I was just thinking about was that there's always going to be something to be freaked out about, so why bother?

the edge

By now, I should be used to the fact that I am completely and totally alone.

Most of the time, I'm okay with this. I'm an only child, I'm incredibly independent, I don't usually mind doing stuff by myself, and I strongly value alone time. And I know that I'm not literally alone. Sometimes, it just feels like everybody else has these huge networks of people in their lives, and I can count mine on two hands.

I'm really fine. I just hate it when I really want to do something, like go to a festival, and there's no one who can go with me. Not just that, but that of the 3 or so people I can think of, they're either unavailable or don't want to. Ordinarily, if I really wanted to do something that bad, I would just go by myself. But I don't exactly know where it is or how long it will take to get there (I don't have time to get lost this evening...plus I've been driving A LOT lately and don't really feel like an unnecessary solo road trip), and how fun is it to go to a festival by yourself? I'm not a person who's afraid of doing things by herself. I'll go to the movies, bars, and restaurants alone if I really want to go, it's not that big of a deal. But some things, like festivals, are just not that great by yourself.

Is this what the rest of my life is going to be like? My family's far away (and most of them have always been far away), I'm about to be at least an hour away from any of my friends, and I doubt there's a thriving young single population in Beeville. Don't get me wrong, I'm 112% happy with my decision. I know that this job is going to be fantastic, I'm going to get great experience in a great environment, and the small town thing doesn't bother me (I'm even kind of looking forward to it) except that I'll be alone. And like I said, being alone is pretty okay with me. But it is nice to know that I can have company if I want it. I don't really know what it'll be like to be without that security.

And I'm not usually freaked out about being single. I know I'm only 24 and that relationships are not even all they're cracked up to be. For me at least, there are definitely pros and cons to being single and to having someone. But the older I get, the more I wonder how isolating life will be if I stay single. I know that most of my single friends really want to find someone and/or believe that there's someone for everyone (I definitely don't believe that...for many reasons, most of which actually are not cynical...but that's a different soapbox that I'll get into another time). So, if my friends who are currently single end up with someone, that changes everything. Sure, we'll still be friends, but hanging out won't be the same. They'll either have to bring their significant others or worry about what that person is doing. Annoying. And we won't have nearly as much in common in anymore because they'll all be domesticated and/or parents and worrying about couple/parent/domestic things. And I'll be hanging out with my dog, doing exactly what I want when I want (with the exception of going to festivals).

Sometimes, all I want is to be alone. For everyone to just leave me alone. To be able to just do everything myself, exactly how and when I want it done. And if I spend too much consecutive time with one person, they seriously get on my nerves and I need space.

But then there's the other times. The times when even I am not immune from the longing for human connection. When I want someone to be there that I can always count on to go to festivals with me. Or to make me feel like I'm not all alone and family-less in the edge of the world that is South Texas.

Like I said, I am really excited about my new job. And I love South Texas. And I'm happy that I will have friends an hour away in either direction. I just needed to express my fears about my new life and being a real person versus a student/nomad. Because being a student means that you're planning to move on and do something else in a couple of years when you graduate, and you have that to hold onto on the bad days when you feel stuck. And being a nomad means that you don't have to form real attachments to places, people, or jobs. This is the first time I'm making a real life for myself with no endpoint and no chance to flee. It's exciting, and it's what I desperately need, but it's also terrifying to face, especially because I've run from it for so long.

On the flip side of that, this is also the first time I've ever been excited to go to work.

no cliffhangers, please

I've decided I have this incessant need to always know what happens.

It's like my life is a story, a book that I'm reading, and there's always more chapters. I can't leave cliffhangers in my own life. I can't have unanswered questions and undeveloped plot lines. Well, at least not that are in my control...anything unanswered in my life has not been of my choosing.

What I mean is that I always have to find out "what if." What if I go to college with my high school boyfriend? What if I quit grad school so I don't get pigeon-holed into a particular life? What if I save up for 6 months so I can go to Europe and try living abroad? What if I pick up and go to Korea? What if I quit a job that I hate and go try something else? What if I let my guard down and tell someone how I feel about them? I've decided that I've always (pretty much) done what I want when I wanted to, when I wanted to do it, even if it was impractical or unconventional. And when I haven't, it never leads to good things. And this has cost me a lot.

It's worth it. I have no regrets. I also have very little money, a very easily triggered fight-or-flight response, and few tangible marketable skills. But I have lived, as corny as that sounds. I wouldn't trade any of my experiences that I would never have had on a "normal" life path. I just can't stand the unanswered questions, as much pain as they lead me to sometimes.

I've always gone after what I wanted, or at least what I thought I wanted at the time. Until recently, that had included everything but my love life. Not anymore. And also, I had kind of lost that about myself for awhile until very recently. That's one of the main things that makes me me. I don't accept answers I don't want. If I want something to happen, or if I want to do something, I find a way to make it happen. I always have. Believe me, I know life doesn't turn out the way you plan. But I don't plan on decreasing my determination.

The one thing that I have said over and over to myself since I got back to the states is that I'm tired of just existing. I'm sick of just turning myself off and going through the motions until I can get out of wherever I am. So, for whatever it's worth, I am living now. I'm not leaving stones unturned when I want to see what's underneath. I'm not hiding in my room just because I feel like disappearing...hell, I don't want to disappear.

I think before, my underlying feeling was that I just wanted to be free. When I left Grad School Round #1, I felt like my chains had been cut. And I liked grad school, at least at first. Going overseas, both times, was an attempt at freedom. And then coming home, particularly from Korea, was the same thing. I guess what I've learned about that is that there are always going to be entities making demands on me, and I just have to find my own inner freedom. Unless I want to join the homeless people under the 281 freeway.

It's also easier in a way to be the one always leaving, not the one staying. I've been so scared to be the one staying. I'll be honest; it still terrifies me. But I have to face it, or I will never be happy and I'll never let myself have a home. And it sure is hard to keep setting up a life in new places. I don't want to tear this one down.

Am I done following through on my "what-ifs"? Maybe in the sense that I'm jumping on a transoceanic flight anytime soon, but probably not totally. And I'm okay with that. I honestly have no idea what the future holds for me. But today, I'm happy, I'm at home, and I think I'll stick around for awhile.

not in control

I really like San Antonio. Have you ever felt like you're not in control of what's happening, like this path is just being laid out before you and you're just following it? That's how I feel right now. Things continue to fall into place. Even when they don't seem like they're going to, they turn around and work out. Sometimes it's not the way I had originally envisioned, but they still do.

I know that I'm not always going to be this circumstantially happy. Things are going to get hard again, and it's going to seem like nothing is going right. The difference (I hope!) will be that I have found internal happiness. And that will keep me from totally falling apart during the dark times.

I truly believe, after having been back in the States for three whole weeks now, that going to Korea was the single most important decision I've ever made. It didn't turn out the way I thought it would, of course, but the confidence and self-awareness I gained were things I desperately needed and I don't know that I would have found that anywhere else.

I think I had more stuff to say, but I have to go now, so I'll finish this later.

the end of a dream, the beginning of happiness

I can't remember a time when so many things were going right for me. I don't want to pinch myself because I'm afraid I'll wake up.

I don't know if this is a product of my newfound confidence and optimism and the fact I spent the past six months (well, year really) clawing my way out of each day, but my new outlook certainly doesn't hurt.

I do miss my little babies and living abroad, but I'm definitely ready for this change and mostly just to be somewhere for awhile. I have absolutely no end point in mind for living in San Antonio. Will I stay here forever? Maybe not, but I can't say right now. I'm just content to be here and working toward something that matters to me.

I'm still a little worried about money, but I have some cushion now to look for a part-time job because I got an assistantship at the writing center that pays really well. And of course my internship is only for one semester and then I'll find something that pays, hopefully full time.

So later today I'm meeting my roommate and seeing my new house for the first time. I think it's weird that I know people all over the world and I happen to be moving to the city where I know the most people (of course I want to meet new people too). It's kind of exciting that it worked out that way. I'm so excited about the future. I haven't been able to say that for a really long time.

The reverse culture shock and the jet lag are beginning to subside. I'm keeping my new perspective, but I'm starting to embrace being home (really home) and the positive things that are happening to me despite the end of one dream.