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Dream bigger, please. Make magic.

December 31, 2010 3 comments

2010. You little bastard.

2010 was the weirdest year of my life. 2010 was the hardest year of my life. It was the most stretching, the most difficult, the most heartbreaking.

And yet, it also was the most triumphant year of my life. In 2010 I feel as though I changed into a different — a person that I’m beginning to be ok with. I like the way I’ve changed — for the most part. There’s always things to work on.

There was no big romantic love this year. That was a big difference. I think it was because my heart is still a little torn up about Boston. I gave so much of myself to that endeavor — I spent months planning, dreaming, imagining. I spent months searching for an apartment, visualizing myself taking the T, walking through the snowy streets of that new city. There was no room for anyone or anything else in my heart. And right now, there’s still not. I think I’m not happy unless I’m planning my next big escape, and putting my heart and soul into that.

That’s ok, right?

Leaving Boston was heartbreaking. It broke me for a little while. But anyway.

So here’s my year-in-review. 2010: What a year.

January.

My dream.

Well, of course, I up and moved to Boston. Jan. 10, 2010. I remember not being as scared as I should have been. I didn’t realize the implications of my move, or how hard it could be. What I remember most is the satisfaction of saying I would do something and actually following through with it. It was a good feeling.

It was a great feeling. January was a good month. I explored, I walked, I observed new people. I found a wall by Mass Art that had the gem of a quote that’s the title of this post. I worked for sweet Betsy. It was a magical month. I loved Boston: The snow covering the Common, riding the T. The frozen Charles river. Eerything.

February.

Oh, February. We didn’t get along so well. I can honestly say it was the hardest month this year. But I survived it. And it was the month that sparked my writing nearly every day, which I love.

I went to New York City by myself for Valentine’s Day, and it was incredible.

Freedom.

In February I fell. I thought I had a job and then I didn’t. And that’s OK.

Life isn’t always daisies and roses and freakin’ rainbows. People suck sometimes. But that’s OK. We’re all human.

So February. I fell and it took me a while to get back on my feet. But I did, finally, and I was all the better for it.

March.

Spring. Life. Flowers. March was when I got my job in the flower shop. And truly: I loved it. The job made me happier than every job I’ve held so far. The people I interacted with were (for the most part) pretty amazing. I worked harder than I’ve ever worked before, and for a while, I was happier than I’d ever been.

Love.

Love.

I met some truly incredible people: People I still remember today. The pansies man, and Steve. The guy who wanted the rose. The other guywho ays needed a beautiful bouquet for his girlfriend — and always made a point to talk to me and start a conversation, and find out why I moved out to Boston. He was kind, and I appreciated it. There was Cena, the man who worked in the shop next to the flower shop. He was kind — and always gave me an apple. 🙂 There was also the eccentric hair dresser: She was fabulous, and always stopped to tell me the display looked, “Fabulous, love, just fabulous.” She made my days happy.

I also met some amazing people outside of work. Being me though, I screwed it up, royally. And I still wish it had worked out differently.

April.

A hard month. My employers left for a trip to NYC for two weeks, and I was pretty much in charge of the shop in Back Bay. I worked for two weeks straight and it was hard. Little did I know, it was the beginning of the end. I worked double shifts from 7:30 a.m. to 9 or 10 at night. It. Was. Brutal. Apparently I have a hard time saying no when people ask me to work.

May.

I left Boston.

My Boston.

I left Boston in the hopes that I’d get the job I have now. My best friend got married, and her wedding was beautiful. But it was hard being home. I was resentful and missing Boston and frustrated with myself for giving up. It was a hard month. I remember writing one night that it already felt like someone else’s life. And it did. It felt like I’d never left, and I hated that.

But it was also nice getting reacquainted with my friends, my family, and more importantly: Texas. I realized while in Boston I dearly love this state: The people, the atmosphere, the rolling, flat landscape. It’s beautiful in its own way, and I can appreciate it now. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to stay here forever. Hell no. There’s too much of that great, big, beautiful, amazing and ever-changing world to see. I can’t wait.

June.

My birthday month. The month I started my first job at a newspaper. I made some stupid mistakes, I sat by the pool drinking beers with my best friend and I settled into my new job.

I tried to end my blog, but that didn’t last. Even though I don’t write as much as I used to, this blog is important to me. I like knowing it’s here; that I can use it as an outlet for my joys, my struggles, my angst and thoughts.

A trip to Barnes and Noble one morning sparked a new love: Travel. Exploring the world. It was at that point I started thinking about some new opportunities within the next few years.

July.

Hmm. July. I stopped writing. It was like my words dried up for a little while. I was still learning to settle down in Lubbock. And learning about the job. But once I got into a rhythm, it wasn’t so bad. But in the back of my head,  Iwas still dreaming. Always dreaming. I’m never not dreaming.

August.

I don’t even know. I was reading a lot and working a lot and missing Boston. To be honest, it all blends together. It was an unremarkable month, much like most of my months and days lately.

September.

Oh, this was a good month. My good friend from Germany came to visit, and it was so good to see him and catch up after nearly six years of not seeing each other. It was definitely interesting and a little bit unexpected. Hmmm…I think that’s all I’ll say on here.

This month I also realized how to accept where I am. I made a conscious effort to stop regretting my choices, and learn to be where I am. Does that make sense? I’m trying, really I am.

I also came to the realization that no matter where I am in my life, there’s always going to be things back home I’ll miss. So, to counteract that, I’ve gotta be somewhere awesome so it’s not so bad.

Oh, and I also went skydiving. It was amazing. incredible. Liberating. I LOVED IT.

Liberation.

October.

October, October…hmm. October I realized I had to start being happy. I had to stop reliving my time in Boston, because it wasn’t coming back. And that was ok. I have other things to look forward to. Bigger things. Better things.

October was hard. I was working six days a week and it. was. rough. I felt like I never left work, but I did save an ass-load of money. That’s nice.

November.

November I missed my first holiday with my family: Thanksgiving. It was hard, then again, what’s not hard these days?

And December.

The last month of the year. Christmas. The holidays. Cheer and thanksgiving and peace.

I worked Christmas too. And now I’m here, on the same couch I was on in 2009, ringing in the new year the same way. And yet, I’m different, so that’s OK. I don’t mind it.

This year is over. As I’m writing this, there are 2 hours and 5 minutes left in the year.

I’m ready, 2011. I thought I was ready for 2010, but as it turns out, I think 2011 will be my year.

I still have hope. I still have dreams. I’m going to make magic.

2011 will be amazing. I’m determined to make it so, and you all know I’m a girl with some serious determination.

So here are my resolutions:

I’m going to be brave. I’m going to take on the world.

 I want to stay in shape: Running has been working wonders for me.

I want to find peace. I want to remember that this is my one chance in life, and if I want to do something, I’m going to do it.

But more importantly, I want to continue dreaming. The thing I believe in most is a person’s capacityto dream. Without that, we’re a little lost.

I dream big dreams.

It’s what got me to Boston. It’s what has (and is) getting me through living in Lubbock again.

Dreams are going to carry me around the world, and I can’t wait to see where I land first.

2011 will be my year of adventure, my year of excitement: My year of unexpectedness. It will be. I can’t handle it not being otherwise.

So get ready, people: 2011 is upon us.

Make some magic.

Categories: Thoughts Tags: , , , , , , ,

Life gave me a kick in the pants this week.

October 29, 2010 Leave a comment

This week I had not one, but two, people tell me something that bothered me horribly.

“Katie, you’re never happy. What’s going on?”

“Katie, you weren’t happy in Lubbock so you moved to Boston. Then you moved back to Lubbock after Boston, and you’re unhappy again. When are you ever going to be happy?”

Um…

Ok.

Apparently, it’s time for a little self-reflection.

And here’s what I came up with.

I’m not unhappy — in any way, shape or form. I’m frustrated, and that feels like a huge difference to me.

I’m frustrated and deeply disappointed in myself. When I moved to Boston, I had all the optimism in the world. I was going to go up there, kick some Yankee butt and ingrain myself in that life. I was going to find an awesome job in the publishing industry, and basically, start over.

So I did that. In January 2010 I hopped on a plane with my cat and a suitcase and a hell of a lot of dreams and left the hometown I was born and raised in. 

Four months later, I was back. Granted, I am back for a great job, a real job, (and that’s more than some people can say) but still. I’m back.

No matter what anyone says to me, no matter how many people tell me I “made it in Boston,” I don’t feel like I did. I feel like I gave up. Like I threw away my dreams of the last few years because things got a little hard. It feels like I turned my back on the girl I was in January and ignored her pleas to stay. To power through and keep trying and pushing and hoping and wishing.

I’m so disappointed in myself, it’s hard to explain. I hate living with this much regret. I hate that, as my sister phrased it, “I’m drowning in self-pity.” It’s true and when she said that to me it was like the universe slapped me in the face and told me to get the hell over it.

But. And here’s the part where everyone reading this realizes that I’m really not a total downer. My mindset is turning around.

I am where I am, and regardless of how I wish it were different, it’s not going to change for a while. And you know what? I’m thinking that may be OK for now.

I’m realizing more and more how where I am right now is not bad. It’s finally hit me that living with such a sh*tload of regret and disappointment backlogged in my brain and my heart is essentially crippling my life. It’s not healthy, and even more than that, it’s not going to get me back to where I want to be. The only thing that will get me back on track is more of that optimism I talked about earlier. And sheer will. And you know I have that.

But the way I see it, I had two choices back in May/June when I was offered this job. Both choices would have given me different experiences, new people to meet and various life lessons to learn.

Neither choice was bad. Neither choice was clearly the better choice.

Because I chose to take this job, I’m going to end up somewhere different than if I had stayed in Boston. While that’s a hard truth to swallow, I have to believe it. And I’m not going to end up somewhere bad. It’s just going to be much different than I originally thought it would be.

But isn’t that sort of the beauty of life and the power of making your own choices? You never know what’s around the next corner, and I love that.

So long story short, I’m sorry everyone. I’m sorry for imposing my frustration on all of you, as I know it hasn’t made me a fun person to be around. Know that I’m trying; know that I’m attempting to turn all this negativity into peace — into optimisim and hope and dreams for my future. It’ll happen. I’m not going to be drowning anymore.

So thank you, Universe. And thanks to my friends and sister who aren’t afraid to be honest and call it like it is.

I just hate that I have to wait for my next adventure, haha.

Glory days.

August 29, 2010 1 comment

Last night I needed a night out more than anything. I needed to nurse a cold beer; I needed loud music to drown out my ever-thinking mind; I needed to be around good friends.

But an hour into being at the bar, I was disgusted. Not by my friends by any means, but by the crowds in the place. The town I live in, like I’ve said before, is filled with people who are essentially cut from the same cloth. It’s a college town; there’s sorority girls and frat daddies all over the place. And I cannot stand it.

I left last night because I got sick of having to deal with this.

Lately I’ve been reading travelogues, which are amazing books. One of my favorite things about these books is the chance to see the world through someone else’s eyes. I love learning about new types of people, new cultures, new traditions.

It makes me hunger for something different.

I want real people in my life. I need to, at some point, get away from the college lifestyle and move in a path that will bring me toward interacting with people who have had actual life experiences.

I know in a lot of ways I’m categorizing everyone I saw at the bar last night, and that’s not fair. But in some ways what I’m saying is true, so I’m not going to feel too bad.

Last night also made me miss Boston. (Whoa, what? Like I never say that.) What I loved most about that place (Let’s say, in the top 5 of things I loved.), was the fact that new people were around every single corner. Whether it was a quick conversation on the subway with a med student, or stopping to listen to a street performer, or an artist who became my closest friend, I was always hungering for that next encounter.  I love different perspectives and opinions and lifestyles.

Some people want to eat their way around the world. Others want to participate in adrenaline-filled activities or see how far they can travel by land rather than by air. I, on the other hand, when I travel, want to glean as much as I can from whichever culture I choose.

One of my favorite books I read this summer was “Tales of a Female Nomad,” by Rita Gelman Goldman. After a divorce, and in her mid-40s (I think), she moved to Mexico where she lived in a Zapotec village for a number of months. From there she’s spent the last 10 years or so moving around the world, and making sure that she connects with the people she lives with in every part of the world she visits. She lived with a royal family in Bali, and hiked in the highlands of Indonesia where she lived in a teeny-tiny village. Rather than getting the quick, “postcard view” of the places she visits, she stays long enough to get an idea of how they live: what activities their days are made up of, or how they grieve, how they celebrate, how they play.

It’s a beautiful thing, and I loved her book. And although I don’t really want to take it as far as she did and be a “present-day nomad,” I do want to learn from people the way she did. That’s why I want to travel.

Boston let me get a taste of that feeling. The city gave me the chance to, like I said earlier, meet tons of different types of people. I miss that.

And that, right there, brings me to my next thought: The glory days.

Since I started my new job, I’ve had lots and lots of time to read gazillions (OK, slight exaggeration) of travel blogs. There are people out there my age traveling around and around the world, and I love reading their blogs.

One blogger–I can’t remember who it is, but I’ll link it as soon as I find it again–wrote a post about the glory days. He likened this to that old man who always talked about “that one football game, back in 1950 where he made the winning touchdown.” And this man never moves past this point: He spends the rest of forever telling this story, and that’s essentially the highlight of his life.

What I loved about this post was that it made me realize how moving to Boston was my glory moment, and it made me sick because I am so much like that old man. In my life right now that move to Boston is the biggest thing I’ve done.

I miss it. You all know this. And I insert it into every conversation with new people: I make sure they know I moved there, that I was scared, but that I did it. Those days I spent living in Boston were my glory days.

The blogger also touched on the importance of not letting that one experience become the only moment worth being glorious in your life.

And I get it. It infused me with determination. Determination to move past a situation, a decision I made I’m unhappy with. It’s made me start planning and thinking about concrete steps I can take to ensure I have more moments and experiences I can classify as my glory days–instead of just one four-month block.

I want enough experiences to fill a book. You all know that when I get in a new place I can write and write and write. My blog took off in Boston, and I’m searching for the next place I can let my words explode. It’ll be wonderful.

So, here’s to the glory days. And here’s to real people. I’m coming for those times.

Thanks for reading. I haven’t written this long of a post since I moved, and I have to tell you, it feels amazing.

The times, they are a changin’.

Hair-raising success.

March 29, 2010 6 comments

Hello, everyone. Say hello to me, Boston’s newest freelance writer.

Hmm? What’s that? How did this happen, you ask? I’d be happy to explain. It goes way back. Settle in; it’s a good story. And it begins with my hair.

I’ve had issues with my hair a long, long, very long time.

It’s curly. It makes me look like a fourth grader. I switch products weekly because nothing ever seems to work well at controlling the curl. Or keeping it straight. A couple years ago I finally took the plunge and chopped it short, which I loved.

When I moved to Boston I decided a new life meant a new haircut. New place, new me. That was the idea. Because I was trying to save money at every turn I held my breath and went to this place called Blaine Beauty School. Basically the place gives cheap haircuts and highlights because the students are the ones who are the stylists. They are watched over by their instructors, but still, it’s a little nerve-wracking.

My experience was great though. This guy named Jason cut my hair, and he was the sweetest man ever. We hit it off and talked about everything while he painstakingly cut and highlighted my hair. Three and a half hours later he was finished. And he told me wanted to give me a haircut that made me more distinctive. He said my haircut would help prospective employers take notice of me and notice me more.

Two months later this is exactly what happened.

Last Sunday I was working in the flower shop when this woman came in. She wanted to buy flowers for her mother-in-law, and she didn’t care what she got. In her words she “despised the woman.” Haha. While I was wrapping her flowers for her, she commented on my haircut and how much she liked it. She asked me where I got it cut and from there we just started chatting. One thing led to another and I mentioned how I recently moved to Boston from Texas, then I told her I’d just graduated from college.

She asked me what I’d studied and when I told her journalism her eyes lit up.

“Journalism? So you write then?”

Yes. I write. Not well. But I try.

But I didn’t tell her that. I told her that yes, I write and I love it. I told her I’ve been looking for any sort of job that would give me more experience.

She whipped out a piece of paper and started talking again, telling me about what she does and that I should e-mail her. She told me she knew people at the Weekly Dig and at Stuff and at the Boston Phoenix. She told me she was looking for someone to work on writing projects for her. This woman moves very quickly and before I knew it she was out the door, leaving me with her e-mail address in hand and a fluttering heart. I was wondering if it was some sort of a joke.

A couple days later I decided to shoot her an e-mail to see what whould happen. I kept it quiet from everyone because I didn’t want to be embarrassed like I was with that other job. But after receiving a positive response from her I started to feel better. We set up a meeting for my next day off, which was today, to talk about getting started on some writing projects.

Basically, this woman is an event planner for JP Centre/South Main Streets. It’s an organization in Jamaica Plain that’s focused on keeping the community a part of the big cities. It focuses on shopping locally and drawing tourists into areas of the city that are off the beaten path, so to speak.

I wasn’t sure what to expect when I went in today. I was afraid to hope. I didn’t want to be disappointed again.

But, my readers, I was anything but disappointed. 

I met with the woman and she started reeling off story ideas for me to begin working on immediately.

She wants me write about First Thursdays, an art event in JP. She wants me to do profiles over interesting people in Jamaica Plain, one of whom is the former personal assistant to Steven Tyler. Yes, the Steven Tyler. She wants me come up with my own ideas and be creative. I have a bit of free rein with this project, I was excited to learn.

After picking my jaw up off the floor I started furiously writing everything down. She threw names and numbers of contacts at me so quickly I could barely get it all down. She suggested I write a story a week. She told me she wanted me to write a few press releases for her events; press releases that will possibly be in the Weekly Dig and the Phoenix, and if she can swing it, the Boston Herald and the Globe. The Boston Globe. Yes, the Globe. Me. In the Globe. It’s a slim possibility, but it’s a possibility nonetheless. (And in case you forgot, possiblity is my favorite word.)

She set me up with a more professional e-mail address and is getting me in touch with a designer to get business cards. She wants me to be able to hand out my cards as a freelance writer at events, because apparently, I get to attend them with her.

She wants to help me because by writing these stories for her I’m helping her out.

Why do I deserve this? I feel so blessed. Three months ago I was at home in Midland and had graduated 10 days prior. Now I’m in Boston, working at a flower shop and acting as a freelance writer.

What if I had never done this? That thought scares me even more than actually moving here scared me. What if I had never moved here, had never gone to that beauty school on that one night that Jason was there? What if I’d never started working at the flower shop and never met this woman?

What if I’d listened to the professors and advisers at school who told me not to move to Boston?

I have to wonder what I’d be doing right now. 

I know this isn’t a “forever” job. I know that it’s not permanent and I know that it sucks to not get paid for my work.

BUT.

But it’s something to put on my resume. It’s more experience and it’s a way to get my name out there in Boston. I am a writer in Boston. How supremely awesome is that?

I’ve always been told how difficult it is to get “in” in Boston; that it’s an extremely closed community to outsiders. This is how I picture it. Boston is a closed door. But I shoved my foot in the miniscule crack and I’m forcing my way in and won’t stop until I make it. I’ve got my foot in the door.

So tomorrow, I get to start working on my first story. And that makes me so unbelievably happy. I feel like I’m about to burst out of my skin with joy.

It’s days like today where I’m going to be so happy I smile widely at strangers. This is when I feel less skeptical and cynical about the world. This is the type of day where I’m able to believe in magic and in hope and in the power of dreaming.

Because look where dreaming big got me.

Peace.Courage.Faith.Hope…Possibility.

November 26, 2009 1 comment

Happy Thanksgiving!

I entered this holiday with a renewed sense of contentment. The second I arrived back in Midland it was as though every worry I had on the drive home flew out the window. (I always roll down my window once I spot the town on the horizon. Don’t ask me why; I just do.) I didn’t think about the three major projects I have due (Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday), or the paper I have due Wednesday or the two stories I have to write for the yearbook. Or the fact I graduate three weeks from this Saturday. Or that I still need to find a little thing called a job in that big city of Boston. Nothing was in my head except for the anticipation of seeing my family.

Yes, I go home often. Normally I go there to escape from Lubbock, because sometimes I just can’t stomach the thought of having to stay in that town during the weekends. I see my family quite often (except for my sister), but everything is different during the holidays. Everything seems more simple; all that matters is that they are my family, the ones who love me, support me, and care about me–and the only place I wanted to be was right here.

Yesterday I felt wrapped up in the arms of my cozy home. Since I got here I have not left the house once. I gave myself the chance to slow down, to breathe a little. And it gave me the chance to remember what I will be leaving behind in January.

I’m so grateful to have such an amazing set of parents. For the most part, their relationship is the one I hold up to as an example of what I hope to someday have. They balance each other perfectly, and I love that about them.

I’m thankful for my little sister. I love her carefree attitude toward life; her tendency to act (in a good way) like a little kid. She hasn’t lost that vibrancy, that innocence, that being an adult usually takes away. I admire that, and sometimes I am jealous.

I am thankful for my Grandmommy and Grandaddy. They are my mom’s parents, and they are one of the best sets of grandparents someone could ever hope for. Yes, my grandmother talks for hours on end, but every little thing she does is out of love. My grandfather is the strong, silent type, but I like to imagine him in his prime. I believe he used to be a force to be reckoned with, and I am glad to still have him with me.

I’m thankful for my precious Papa. I did not get to see him today (because he’s in New York; go him!), and I missed him. He is everything to me. I admire him because he stood by my grandmother for the 11 years Alzheimer’s ravaged her mind. He is steadfast and strong, kind and caring, honest and true. Today was my first taste of a holiday without him, and I didn’t like it. I would be lost without my Papa. And my sweet Mimi–I missed her today. Painfully. I know in my heart if she were still here the whole family would be hurting, but I wish I could have her here as I know she is now: restored, healthy and whole. Beautiful and elegant, as she used to be.

I’m thankful for peace, courage and faith. For hope. For possibilities–the endless kind. I’m thankful I had the courage to stand up for what I want for myself and my life. Is it bad if this is what I am most thankful for this year? It seems so self-centered; but I’ll be honest: it’s true. If I had not had the courage to talk to my parents and the courage to just do it and take off for Boston, I would be so unhappy right now. Knowing I’m leaving makes me more aware of what I’m leaving behind. This, in turn, makes it harder to leave. But that will make coming back home so much better. So much sweeter.

Right now everything that has been bothering me seems so small. And I know tomorrow or Saturday I will probably wake up and be sad again or be stressed, but at least for this day I was peaceful.

Time flies.

October 27, 2009 Leave a comment

Wow. I cannot believe it’s the end of October. Where did the semester go? Seriously.

And the fact that it is the end of October? Scares me. Way too much. There is so much I have to do in terms of Boston, and nothing can happen until I find a place to live. I still need to figure out what I’m taking with me, what I’m selling, if I can take Copper. And, oh yeah, I need that little thing called a job…argh. I’m excited to take care of the little details though. I can’t wait to buy a T card, and go on my first grocery shopping expedition. I can’t wait to eventually meet who I’ll be living with. I’m excited to see Boston covered in snow…I bet it’s beautiful. The thing I’m most excited about, though? Buying that one-way ticket. Wow. That’s…terrifying.

 

In other news, school actually is going well. For the most part. It’s hard to care sometimes, but then I remind myself that I HAVE to do well this semester. My multi-platform class is nowhere near as difficult as I thought it’d be, and I’ve made some really great friends in there. It makes me excited for graduation, because I finally have gotten to the point in school where I have class with all the same people. I was talking to a friend about it yesterday, and she said graduation will be special because we will all be clapping and cheering for each other. We all went through this (awful, time-consuming, stressful) major together, and together? We made it. That will be special.

Categories: Uncategorized Tags: , ,

Hoping…and falling.

September 28, 2009 1 comment

Tonight is one of those nights where Boston, and everything past graduation, feels unattainable. I feel like the next four months will never be over. I feel like I’ll never get out of Lubbock. I feel like I’ll never it make it up there….Boston.

My parents are dubious with my declaration that I want to move to Boston. They think I’m just making this decision on a whim and a fancy. Maybe it was a spur of the moment decision, but I’m going to rationalize it. First, I have wanted to move to a big city for the last three years. Easily. And for a long time, it was New York. But…then I went to Boston. Is it so bad to switch cities? I don’t think so. Especially when Boston offers the same opportunities to me that New York has. Maybe, just maybe, they’re even a little more attainable. I love Boston. I love it more than New York.

I love that it’s not an ostentatious city. It’s not so “in your face,” like New York. It’s a little more subtle. I love the history that is still woven in with the modern buildings and skyscrapers.

 

I’m scared though. It absolutely terrifies me when I think of getting on a plane in Midland and ending up in Boston all by myself. I know it’s what I want, and I know if I let my fears hold me back, I’ll never go. It’s just a matter of sucking it up, finding an apartment and getting a job. That’s my plan for fall break. Instead of going to College Station to see all my friends, I’ll be sticking around and locking myself in my apartment to do some serious job hunting and resume perfecting. Sounds awesome. (Too bad this is a blog and you couldn’t catch the sarcasm. But it was there. Oh, was it there.)

 

So, I mentioned this in the last post, but I was recently hired as the copy editor at the LV. Today was my first official day, and I loved it! It’s nice to have a place. I’ve been at Tech for two years now, and I finally feel as though I’m making it as a college student. Life is definitely going to be busier this semester, but it’s a good busy. I’ve got  two jobs and am a full-time student, but I’m loving every minute of it. (OK, maybe I could do with a little less school, but what are you going to do, right?) Now I just have very little free time. My nights for the week are already filled up, and that’s crazy. I used to have tons of free time. I kind of like being this busy, but it is only Monday night and I’m exhausted. That’s not so good.

 

I think that’s all I can think of for the moment. I could whine about loneliness and crap such as that…but I’m not going to. Not right now.