Days Gone By

This evening I found myself thinking, "I should write a blog post" and then I promptly stared at the computer screen for a good ten minutes before remembering that I have a prompt box right next to me in a desk drawer that I can use at times like these.  I went through a good dozen slips of paper before I settled on this one.

Lots of things happening.  Internship #2 is over, and I'm sad that it's done, but you know what they say, "all good things come to an end."  Bright side, Internship #1 is now my only internship, and I'm doing lots of exciting things for that.  Like this: audition posting!  And then I have a phone interview for another internship on Thursday!  Fingers crossed!

Today's prompt: What can you do to recycle old calendars?

I spent a little bit of time puzzling this out recently because I had a stack of old calendars sitting in my closet.  On the floor.  Because that's where old things belong.  (I learned recently that I'm a "stacker."  I stack things.  Everywhere.  On everything.  Desks, the floor, countertops, tabletops, car seats, etc.  Why did I not know this before?!)

The first and most obvious answer is that you could make a collage of all the pictures!  Just think, a collage of all those wonderful Orlando Bloom faces all staring out at you at the same time rather than just one for every month!  A collage of Harry Potter characters pasted over landscapes from England and France.  (These are some of the calendars I have had, don't judge...)

What I did with a couple of my calendars, most notably a landscape one and an artsy dreamy one, was make envelopes.  That's right, folks, I made envelopes for sending letters in.  Granted, I haven't sent many letters out in them, but when I do...those letter receivers will have something special to tear open in their feverish haste to get to my profoundly awesome letter.  It's really easy to make envelopes too, you can just unglue an envelope you already have and use that as a template to trace and then glue up the homemade envelope and voila!  The only problem I've found with this is that you have to glue the envelope shut before you send it.  Or tape the hell out of it so your letter doesn't fall out.  On the bright side, that letter isn't going anywhere until the recipient opens up that envelope.

And that, my friends, is what you can do to recycle old calendars!

“Most modern calendars mar the sweet simplicity of our lives by reminding us that each day that passes is the anniversary of some perfectly uninteresting event.” 

- Oscar Wilde

What Do You Do?

I thought I had an idea for a post.  Actually, I'm fairly certain that I did have an idea, I just chose to dispense with that idea for now because I stumbled upon my friend, Susan's, blog and I was intrigued by her post today as part of Blog Every Day in May even though I'm not sure that I'll be taking that particular challenge.  I've already got one challenge with my Poem-A-Day Project, and then the whole "figure out your life, Brianna" challenge.

So, Brianna, if you couldn't answer with your job, what do you do?

I write.  Lots of things.  Most consistently, I write blog posts and daily poems.  I write scribbles in a notebook that I keep in my bag at all times.  Every now and again I write a character sketch or an idea for a scene.  Over the summers for the past five summers, I wrote stage adaptations of Grimm fairy tales.  In high school, I wrote one act plays.  My last semester of college, I wrote short stories.  I've written lyric essays, but I'm still not absolutely certain what that means.  I also write letters because when I get writer's block, it's a really great and constructive way to get my thoughts onto paper without forcing myself to write something pretty.  Plus then someone definitely gets to read it!

I read.  As a result of my reading, I also leave books lying around the house everywhere.  I read multiple books at the same time because I suspect I have an attention problem.  According to my Goodreads account, I'm reading a bunch of books that I had to return to the library a long time ago, and if I wanted to actually read them, I would probably have to restart them anyway.  So honestly, I'm currently reading The Friday Society, and I'm carrying around Wonder Boys in my bag with a bookmark shoved between the first couple pages.  I also read poetry, though I haven't been reading quite as much as I want to, apparently I'm getting distracted by novels.  Oh, and comics.  Because that's a thing now.

I watch movies.  Mostly because I adore movies.  The last movies that I fell in love with were probably Perks of Being a Wallflower and Ruby Sparks.  There was a time when I was working through all the Alfred Hitchcock movies that I could find at my local library, then there was the phase I had when I watched a handful of Marilyn Monroe movies, and then there was my F-in 80s movie marathon weekend which featured Fame, Footloose, and Flashdance.  Everybody loves a good theme, right?  I aspire to watch AFI's 100 Years 100 Movies, although I'm kinda leery about a couple of the movies on that list.  Let's face it, I just want to see all the movies.

I intern.  I know this is kinda like answering with my job, but there it is.  Too bad.  Plus now I can repeat things that I've probably already talked about.  I numbered my internships based on the order I got them.  So Internship #1 is at Here's the Story, I'm the Communications Assistant, which means that I do social media marketing, write things, and generally take on assignments from my blue-haired boss.  Internship #2 is at Chicago Kids Company, and I help out the box office manager by taking phone calls and making reservations for teachers who want to bring their classes to our shows for a field trip.

I knit.  There was a time when I got home from Florida when I went into a knitting frenzy.  I knit a Hufflepuff scarf and a failed Hufflepuff hat for my friend, Claire, I made myself arm warmers, I think I knit something else too, but it was insane.  I have a pattern for curled toe elf slippers that I really want to make, but I'm terrified of messing them up because they're not square and flat...those being the requirements for all the other things that I've knitted successfully.

What else?

I'm pretty sure that's it.  I also do other things like clean my room, occasionally, wash dishes or do laundry for the family when I notice that it could probably use doing.  I go to free events when I remember that they exist.  I go out for drinks or pie with friends, so I eat a lot of pie and drink more alcohol than is probably healthy for someone who spends time with one person at a time and doesn't go to bars very often.  I also spend an unhealthy amount of time texting and checking Facebook.   I also watch television shows via Hulu or my friend's itunes because there's no conceivable way that I could possibly remember to watch a weekly show without setting a phone alarm.  Because that's another thing I do: I forget things.  I also procrastinate.  And I guess I job hunt right now.

So...those are thing things I do.  What about you?

"We all want progress, but if you're on the wrong road, progress means doing an about-turn and walking back to the right road; in that case, the man who turns back soonest is the most progressive."

- C.S. Lewis

Future Brianna

I stole another idea from my English teacher friend's class blog.  It asks me to imagine a future me has come to talk to the present me.  What kind of advice would Future Brianna offer the now me?  Would I trust this person who claims to be me...from the future?

What I'm actually going to do is write this in the form of a letter.  Because I feel like it.  And because I imagine Future Brianna is literate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Past Brianna,

Well, by now you're Past Brianna in relation to my--I should probably introduce myself.

I'm you.  From The Future.  I know it sounds strange like some freaky Doctor Who or Back to the Future thing, but I promise I'm not going to attack London on Christmas, and your children are fine.  They're actually at school right now, and that younger one is a whippersnapper, let me tell you.

If I'm timing the receipt of this letter correctly, you're in the middle of your first ever job search.  And you're having great fun, you run around the block every time you hear back from a potential employer and you drink champagne every time you get a job offer that you're at your leisure to decline because you already have your perfect job, right?  Wrong.  I know it's seriously lame, that you spend the majority of your "job search" hunting through the same websites for different or new postings and that you've heard from less than 0.0000002% of the employers you've bothered to send your resume to.  You're also worried that these potential employers aren't a fan of the quote you start your cover letter with.  These are legitimate concerns.  But not really.  I know you think they are, but you really need to calm down.  Right now.

Deep breath.

And let it out.

Okay, good.  That's a start, at least.  From one Brianna to another, let me tell you that now is the time to work on your writing.  Because trust me, there's going to be a time very soon when you're going to have an opportunity related to your writing, and if you're not prepared for it, it's going to cause some serious stress.  I  know this because I lived the stress scenario, and it'd be really great if we could change that, because I suspect that's where the gray hairs came from.  I'm mostly kidding.  But when it comes to your writing, revise those stinking Poem-A-Day poems!  They're just sitting in piles on the desk chair for the desk that you don't use, and they're calling your name in feeble little voices, imploring you to "Do something with us!"  Answer the call.  Oh, and write a play.  Someone's going to ask you for a play, so it would be helpful to be prepared with that one.  Yeah.

And when it comes to the job search, keep up those deep breathing exercises.  It's going to take a while.  You've only been at it for a couple months, and you probably won't get a legitimate job offer until June, so sit back and relax a little.  And if you get a job offer from a website claiming to be a French person in Chicago...you need to ignore that one.  Okay, good.

You're also single, and I need for you to go forth and have fun with that.  For real.  Otherwise, you're just going to sink into sadness.  So please, for my sake, and the sake of your future children, go out and have some fun.  Because let's face it, those future children aren't going to let you go out with friends too often once they arrive.  Sorry, fact of life.  And I know right now you don't want kids...but that future husband's going to change your mind.  Oops, did I say you were going to get married?  Oh.  Yeah.  That.  Yeah, ignore that.

No, I'm not going to tell you where you meet.

Yes, you can trust me.

No, you should not burn this letter right now.

Anyway, you're sinking a lot of your time into trivial things.  So I need you to identify those trivial things and cut them out of your life.  Or at least trim them.  Facebook for instance, trivial thing.  This blog?  Not so much.  Just look at how much it's gotten you to write over the past...however long.  This is a good thing.  This is also a good thing to maintain because you have at least one person who reads your blog every single day, and I'm not going to tell you who it is.  So deal with it.

I know it sounds cheesy and probably a little unfair coming from me, but it's going to get better.  Okay, okay, I know, I'll back off on the cheese now.  When one door closes...ha, I'm only kidding.  You thought I was serious, you should really know you better.  Another thing to put on your to do list!

Remember things.  Be a good role model.  Put forth an effort, not only an effort, but your heart into everything.  Take a deep breath and remain calm.  Have a little fun.  Moderation.  Don't be afraid.  Help others.  Show people understanding.  Practice compassion.  Love.  Get out of your comfort zone and your shell.  Do something worthwhile.

And knit those elf slippers, because those things are awesome.

Love,
Future Brianna

"'You will be fine,' the fortune teller says.  'There may be decisions to make and surprises in store.  Life takes us to unexpected places sometimes.  The future is never set in stone, remember that.'"

- Erin Morgenstern

2 Truths...and...Just Kidding

One of my friends, Elizabeth, is an English teacher.  As part of her teaching magic, she has her students write blog posts.  So, she shared these prompts with me, and I am very excited to be stealing one of them for today's post.  It's based on the game 2 Truths and a Lie, but I've decided to dispense with the lie (for now) and tell you three truths about me.

And note to self, write something fictional soon.  Preferably good and fictional, but I know how you can get...

1.  I can juggle.

I'm not saying I can juggle well, but I can, indeed, juggle.  My first May Term through my university, I went to a juggling workshop.  I believe that was my first May Term, at least.  I spent the majority of the workshop tossing two balls into the air until the person running the thing had me pick up the third.  At that point, I spent a long time tossing two balls and holding the third because I was terrified of tossing it.  Until I just did.  So I can do the very basic juggling pattern of three balls.  That's about it.  My brother taught himself how to juggle by using YouTube, that magical place, and he can do a number of tricks, and in my attempt to be more like my brother, I'm planning on learning how to do some myself.

2.  My favorite game is Bananagrams.  Though I'm not particularly good at it.

I was only introduced to Banagrams a couple years ago and played it in Steak 'n Shake and/or the lounge of my residence hall.  And it was awesome.  But the reason I'm not particularly good is because I'm not usually very quick about putting together my words.  I have a bad habit of seeing a word I really want to use and then rearranging my entire collection of letters so I can use it.  I did this for "quixotic," and "wizard," and those are the two I can remember.  To be fair, "quixotic" uses two really annoying letters, so strategically it was a good move.  Point being, I usually sacrifice speed for interesting words.

3.  I collect fortune cookie fortunes.

Not on purpose.  Though I'm not really sure how you can accidentally collect something.  It's more that every time I eat a fortune cookie, I pin the fortune to my bulletin board in my room.  Last summer I actually took all my fortunes, compiled them into a Word document, and tossed out the little slips of paper.  So now I'm starting from scratch.  I think I like being able to look back at the fortunes and see if any of them still apply later in my life?  Or maybe I think that I can use them for a writing prompt of some sort.  My friend, Katie, actually talked about writing something based on fortune cookie fortunes, and I think that that's a brilliant idea.  And using fortunes that have already been written would eliminate the headache of having to write your own fortunes.  Hm.

"Men occasionally stumble over the truth, but most of them pick themselves up and hurry off as if nothing ever happened."

- Winston Churchill 

Something to Blog About

Please someone give me something to blog about.

I realized fairly recently that the majority of my posts about my personal life are whiney and boring.  Well, maybe they're boring, I'm entertained by the way that I ramble, but maybe I'm the only one who's entertained.  My life is fairly mundane.  My friend, Claire, asked me what I do in the morning around nine, and I couldn't even really tell her that I have a routine because...I don't.  Which is a little depressing, but it's okay because maybe one of these days I'll be just waking up at nine and getting ready to prepare my famous French toast.  I can look forward to this hypothetical possibility.

Poem-A-Day March's challenge is "drunken poetry" given to me by my mother, which was surprising.  Especially since the first thing you think of when you think "drunken poetry" is "get drunk and then write a bunch of poetry."  I did this on a team with two of my friends once, and some really weird stuff came out of it (we passed around a piece of paper and each wrote a line).  But I've chosen to interpret this challenge a bit more liberally than that first narrow assumption.  I've written about a poet being too hungover to write poetry at all, and about a drunk poem.  Get it?  Because it's drunken poetry.  Sometimes I'm clever.  I'm not sure what else I'm going to write about it quite yet, but I may revisit my favorite Charles Baudelaire poem, "Enivrez-vous."  Because it's lovely.

I'm also working on things for Here's the Story, which is basically a dream come true, but I've heard word that there may be more interns to work with.  This tentative announcement makes me feel like an only child waiting for the inevitable arrival of a new sibling.  I already feel jealous of these new children and apprehensive that I will no longer be "the favorite."  Then again I also feel like I can easily make friends with these potential new folks because having friends is nice.  So I'm torn.  As usual.

My horoscope told me this morning that I would be making a big time decision about my life soon.  I can't even begin to imagine what kind of decision that would be because I don't really have any decisions to be making that are more dramatic than what I want to eat for breakfast in the morning or where I want to curl up to read my book in the evening.  But said horoscope also informed me that important people in my life would tell me that I was making the wrong decision, but that I should follow my intuition.  This doesn't surprise me in the least because typically the people in my life tend to be know-it-alls.  Just a little bit.  Well meaning lovely know-it-alls who I love.  They're endearing, and I hope they don't mind if I ignore them.

I had two phone interviews at the end of last week, and I'm really excited about the one that I had on Friday because I think I did fairly well.  Plus it's for a place that I would definitely enjoy working at.  They even told me to have a good weekend and laughed when I apologized for being incoherent.  I really hope they were laughing with me and not at me...but they were so nice I couldn't imagine them jeering at me.

And my brother's coming home for spring break on Friday.  This is particularly exciting because it means that for a week, I won't be an only child.  I've missed him.  And even though we're not really going to hang out, per say, it'll be good to see him.  I only hope he doesn't hate me for evicting him from his room.  We're crossing our fingers that he doesn't hate me too much.  Yeah...

I tried baking Irish soda bread last night.  I sliced part of it today, and I suspect that I worked the dough too much because it's kinda lumpy and weird looking, but you know, I'm sure it tastes fine.  I'm beginning to strongly suspect that I can't cook or bake anything delicious on purpose because of the muffins I made last month and the soda bread this month...both seem pretty bland and boring.  But maybe a little jelly will make the bread better.  This is one of my first forays into the domestic, and I really don't want my mother to think that she failed me somehow and that I'll starve if I ever move out.

And then there's the whole thing that I said I would start working out at some point.  Maybe I should have made that my Lenten promise instead of blogging everyday.  If only I had thought of that!  I keep saying that I'll go to the library and pick up a yoga DVD or something, but I keep forgetting.  Or getting distracted by other things like the stack of grant writing books that I'm cradling in my arms (because I figure if I can learn how to write grants, I'll be more marketable as a writer).

I'm reading a book that my grandpa lent me, which was really sweet, but I feel bad because I definitely fell asleep when I was reading it the other day.  Oops.  It's going to be a murder mystery, I believe.  It's called V Is for Vengeance.  And I do like the Kinsey character, but I'm thinking I need to get to know her a bit more before I get into the book.  I'm just reading a lot of books, actually.  I have a bad habit of sticking bookmarks into half a dozen books and then reading them in a circle of sorts.  So there's that one, Red Seas under Red Skies, and a couple grant writing books.  Then there are the ones that I started before the Disney College Program...and I'm not even sure where those are because they got put away somewhere.  Maybe in the dresser that's holding more books than clothes...hm...

So yeah, can someone just give me something to blog about?  Thanks.

"I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge.  That myth is more potent than history.  That dreams are more powerful than facts.  That hope always triumphs over experience.  That laughter is the only cure for grief.  And I believe that love is stronger than death."

- Robert Fulghum

Bored? Never!

This morning the radio told me, "If you're bored then you're boring."  And because being boring has got to be the worst and most terrible insult that I could ever receive...and it would probably make me cry if someone called me boring...I remembered that I'm doing lots of things, and therefore not bored!  Step one!  When I say that I'm doing a lot of things, I mean that I'm working on revising poetry, I'm reading a lot of novels, I'm watching a lot of movies, and I'm knitting.  A lot.  Part of me suspects this is in preparation of my becoming a grandmother one day.  I need to learn how to knit sweaters...

It also astounds me that anyone could ever be bored.  There are about a million and one things that you can do whether you stay at home or go out and have adventures.  I know this because I've found and done the majority of these things with my new found free time.  And I have plans to add more things.  But right now I'm just compiling a list of things I can/would like to do solo so the next time I get into my "I have no friends" funk, I'll do something exciting and make friends through telling people about it!  Ready?  GO!

Things I Want To Do While At Home:

-  make 5 Pinterest crafts, otherwise I'm just talk
-  learn how to make 5 Pinterest dishes, so I don't starve)
-  learn how to do a card trick (or multiple card tricks...)
-  learn new juggling techniques and/or tricks
-  finish moving pictures from the old computer onto CDs for my father
-  read a wider variety of books (genres I need to try: biography, horror, and possibly western)
-  experiment with make-up and see if I can learn how to do fancy things, just for fun
-  see a movie on my own because I hear it's a totally different experience
-  Random Acts of Kindness
-  go to a public place and people watch shamelessly
-  learn how to knit something that's not flat and square
-  memorize Hamlet's "To be or not to be" speech because I've got the first five lines and I might as well
-  memorize my nerd poem because that's going to be useful one of these days
-  revise poetry!  Lots of poetry revisions!
-  send snail mail
-  go forth and do tourist-y things because I can
-  write something that's fiction and prose, preferably a short story!
-  use the "bored?  don't be!" deck of cards
-  clean the entire house
-  organize my personal library
-  play dress up

"She refused to be bored chiefly because she wasn't boring."

- Zelda Fitzgerald

Turn the Page

Q:  Grab the book nearest to you and turn to page 18.  Find line 4.

A:  We have a winner!  It's The Oxford American Desk Dictionary and Thesaurus!  (This is what I get for writing this post in here instead of in my room!)

Page 18 and we're still in A.  And the 4th word on page 18?

"Ah - expressing surprise, pleasure, realization, etc."  Closely followed by "Aha."  There you have it, folks, the dictionary!

(pause for applause)

Q:  Hey, so, uh...remember how you said you were going to write a blog post every day of Lent?

A:  Yup.

Q:  So what's this supposed to be?

A:  A blog post.

Q:  Pretty sorry excuse for a blog post if you ask me.

A:  Oh yeah?  Well, imaginary questioning figment of my imagination, no one really did ask you in the first place, did they?  So I'm just going to call this blog post lame and done and carry on with my day.  Maybe I'll deign to post one of my poems from February up here.  Maybe.  One never knows what wonders they may discover here, and though I regret that this post is also a pointless post like yesterday's...it's just something I'm going to have to live with considering the time constraint I am currently under.  Well, what do you have to say to that?

Q:  ...

A:  That's what I thought.

"The struggle of literature is in fact a struggle to escape from the confines of language; it stretches out from the utmost limits of what can be said; what stirs literature is the call and attraction of what is not in the dictionary."

- Italo Calvino

This Post Has No Point

The fact that I could possibly have writer's block with regards to a blog post that could quite literally be written about anything at all in the world...makes me really sad.

I mean, I could write about the day that I had today.  It was a pretty good day, all things considered.  I'm now the proud owner of two brand spanking new bookshelves (which trust me, I'm going to need when taking into account that my dresser is full of books rather than clothes), and a roll top desk.  That's right, folks, Brianna has a desk.  And it's gorgeous.  Well, it will be, once we clean it up.  On top of that, I went to the Creative Chicago Expo, and I didn't get nearly enough buttons, but that's alright, because I didn't really go with a strategy.  But I did get fed a delicious lunch by my mother while we were downtown, which was nice.  It was actually just really nice to get out of the house again.  And then I finished a scarf.  And I'm not-so-secretly hoping that the person the scarf is for isn't reading this post, because it's supposed to be a surprise at this point.

And yesterday I lay around doing nothing and feeling like death.  Until I forced myself to eat a piece of toast, and then it was like a miracle occurred and I was returned to health.

And Thursday I went to my first ever storytelling show in the city, and it was awesome.  Tomorrow I'm going to my second, and that's when I get to see Here's the Story in person.  I'm incredibly excited because I've been listening to these podcasts for the past couple weeks, and now I'll get to be there and hear the stories first hand!  Plus, you're looking at the newest intern for the non-profit marketing section of Here's the Story.  I'm only a little smug, but a lot a bit excited!

And Wednesday I got to catch up with a couple friends from high school, and I'm really excited to hear that they're cool with hanging out again!  Plus they're in the neighborhood, which makes hanging out significantly easier.

So life is looking up.

And that's really all I have to say.

Alright, have a good night.

"I love Jell-O.  I love the way it comes in rainbow colours, wiggles and jiggles and looks like brains."

- Megan McDonald

Make New Friends

Okay.  I have a really dumb question:

How do people make friends outside of school?

I knew this was going to be a problem when I found myself asking myself this very question before I graduated.  All my friends I've made through school and being in classes with them and living in the same building or working with them.  In theory, the same can be true of making friends in "The Real World," right? You make friends with the people you work with, invite them out to dinner or drinks after work and you hang out?  You make friends with the people you do things with.  Theoretically.

And also of note is that you keep the friends that you already had.  The ones from college and high school who you kept in touch with and still have things in common.  The problem with this is that sometimes these people are scattered.  They have different work schedules, they live just that little bit too far away to call spur of the moment to hang out.  So though you could spontaneously hang out while you were all at school and you could crash their room, now you have to plan to see these people and plan on spending whole days or evenings with them to make the most of your time because you don't know when you're going to see them again.

But for real.  How do people make friends on this side of graduation?

I'm having a distinct difficulty with this.  I'm working on going to events within the community in order to make friends.  That's all well and good except that the majority of the people who go to community events at libraries and stuff?  They're all well over 50.  Or 60.  I don't have a problem with older folk as long as they don't pinch my cheeks or condescend to me, but I can't really invite them to hang out late at night when I can't sleep.  [this is where I say/think something horrible about older people but choose not to say it because I can say it verbally to people who ask me in person]  I wanted to go to a book discussion yesterday, but when I got home in the snow, my gloves and my gym shoes were wet through and I was cold, and I just didn't want to move.  So I stayed in and watched Total Recall and The Little Mermaid, while knitting a Hufflepuff scarf.  I'll let you imagine that for a second...

Though I identify as an introvert, I need people.  I don't see people who aren't related to me very often, and when I do...it feels like I'm out of practice with the whole "social interaction" thing.  So I'm awkward.  Which is nothing new, but I notice.

So I'm trying to think of other things I can do.  It's been suggested that I volunteer.  I'm helping out with the Girl Scout troop that I've been a part of for years and helping out one of the leaders that I've known forever, but they only meet twice a month.  So that leaves 28 days out of the month with nothing to do for Brianna.  So I've got plenty of time to volunteer, I just need to find a place and a thing that I'm excited about and that's nearby and that will take all the time that I have to dedicate to it.

I'm also trying to come up with projects to give myself.  To have myself put together something, make something, do something that's constructive.  Pinterest is awesome for this.  These are mostly solo activities, so that leaves me in another lonely rut.  No people.  Unless I do these craft projects in a public place, which could be awkward, but definitely a conversation starter?

I think a large part of this could be solved by mustering the courage to go to things and do things on my own.  It'd be good for me, right?  Like vegetables.  But then I'm afraid that instead of feeling, "Yeah, I did this all on my own!" I'd feel even more lonely than I did before I went to some event all by myself.

Maybe I could take a class.  Unfortunately, spring semester's already started, so that's right out.  But maybe over the summer if I'm still in the area, I could take a class and make friends with my classmates.  That's something I'm good at.  Making friends with classmates.  Easy.

So that's what I've got: community events, volunteering, and an extra class.  Is that it?  Is this where people make friends?  Or is it the case of upperclass residence halls that everyone already has their established group of friends and they're not interested in meeting new people?  So...what then?  How am I to be expected to make friends with people who aren't interested in making any new friends or how do I find the people who want one more friend who's me?

This blog post brought to you by: The Post-Graduate Experience -- you thought it was all over when you left college, but it was really just the beginning.  Find yourself while slogging through complicated emotions, all while living with your parents!  Now for the low price of your student loans!  Don't wait, call now!

"Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: 'What!  You too?  I thought I was the only one.'"

- C.S. Lewis

Challenge Day 7

That's right, folks!  It's time to celebrate, because here is the daily writing challenge!  I've finished a whole week's worth of the challenge in...about two months.  But we're not going to talk about that because today is a day of celebration!  Everyone should do a writing challenge and spread out the prompts like the last bits of butter in the container across an entire loaf of bread...it's all good!

Here we have Day 7: Create a superhero.  Have he/she save the day.  (We're not going to talk about the grammar mistake happening right before our very eyes, but I am going to shamelessly point it out.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Electrolexi's superhero name wasn't her idea.  She had wanted a name that was cool.  Like "The Inanimator."  Or something like that.  But her superhero mom thought that it would be clever to use little bits of the young superhero's name.  Alexandra turned into Electrolexi.  No relation to Electrolux.  Or maybe there was.  Superhero family trees were always so complicated, you would never know who was related to whom unless there was a slight similarity in name.  Batman and Batgirl?  Definitely father and daughter.  Wait, that wasn't right...

Anyway, Electrolexi's superpower involved being able to communicate with inanimate objects.  This was not exactly a power that gained you recognition among the superhero community, it was on par with being able to transform into a puddle of water or creating marshmallows with your toes.  Something like that.  Electrolexi's mother could control electricity and her father...well, not even Electrolexi's mother would admit who he was, though Electrolexi suspected he was Superman, but that was partially a case of wishful thinking.

On a February morning, Electrolexi turned on the television in her mother's living room to see a screen announcing, "BREAKING NEWS!"

"We've just heard word from NASA that their latest rocket, Iris VI has been hijacked by an unknown entity.  We can posit that the person climbing into the cockpit and throwing the prep crew out a window is a man from the body type observed on the surveillance cameras, but nothing else can be assumed at this point.  Superman was on the scene to save the prep crew being thrown out of the rocket, but has since disappeared, it has been reported that a Bruce Wayne who was funding the rocket's expedition may be on the scene any minute now to consult.  We will keep you updated."

"Ahem, 'scuse me, but could you 'old me a bit lighter?" coughed the television remote.

"Oh!  Sorry..." mumbled Electrolexi.  She hadn't even realized that she was gripping it white-knuckled.

Without a fully formed plan, Electrolexi grabbed her cape and ran out the door.  About halfway down her block, she got a stitch in her side and had to slow down to a brisk walk as she passed the bus that she would normally be taking to her high school.  Chances are if she failed in whatever she wasn't planning on doing, her mother would kill her for skipping school to save the world anyway.

By the time she got to NASA, Electrolexi had a vague idea of what she should do.

"Hey!  You can't be in here!" a bespectacled man yelled at her as she rushed down the hall to the control room.

"Trust me, I've got this handled!" she bellowed over her shoulder.  Though she probably wasn't the most convincing person the man had heard, considering she was a lanky teenaged girl running full speed down a hallway toward the control room of a gigantic rocket, but what did that matter anyway?

Barreling into the control room, Electrolexi yelled at the top of her lungs, "Let me talk to the rocket!"

A group of rocket scientists turned from their computer screens to take in the teenaged girl standing inside the door and panting to catch her breath.  None of them smiled, none of them found this even remotely funny.  There was an unknown man in the cockpit of the rocket and this silly girl was demanding that she be allowed to "talk to the rocket"?

"Pardon me, little girl, but who do you think you are?" asked a white-haired man closest to the door where Electrolexi was still panting.

"I'm Electrolexi.  Trust me.  I've got this.  Give me a microphone."

The rocket scientists were all so baffled by the presence of a teenager in their control room, they just handed her a microphone without any further questions.  The white-haired man snickered a little bit and shook his head before settling back into his seat.

Closing her eyes and concentrating, Electrolexi tuned into what she figured was the rocket's voice singing a tuneless ditty without words as it prepared to take off.  It didn't really care who was piloting it, it just wanted to fly.

"Hey, Iris?  Iris VI?  This is Electrolexi, can you hear me?"

"Electrolexi?  I don't think I know you.  Are you friends with the president?" the rocket asked, halting her song rather abruptly when she was interrupted.

"Yeah, we'll go with that.  Okay, I need you to stay put, alright?  If you get clearance for take-off, it's not from us."

"Right-o!"

Electrolexi let out a breath that she hadn't realized she had been holding.  That was easy.  Too easy...

To be continued...?

Hats Off!

Q:  Are you a hat person?

A:  Yes.  Absolutely.  My very first hat was a wool maroon beret that I got when I was 10.  I really wanted to learn how to speak French, and Santa Claus stuffed this topper into my Christmas stocking.  I was thrilled, and had no idea how to wear it even though I had asked for it.  So I experimented with jaunty tilts and wore it to elementary school where the baseball cap wearers who were asked to shed their hats asked my teacher why she wasn't asking me to take off my beret.

In 8th grade I played the Cat in the Hat in a play for my drama class.  Hat.

I'm not sure when abouts, but I managed to acquire an Indiana Jones hat from Disney Land somewhere in here around the same time that I got a black pinstriped fedora, adding two hats to my collection.

In my junior year of high school, I got a hat simply because I was playing Kelsie, a hat wearing piano player, in High School Musical.  That's really a great hat, it has an itty bitty pocket that I keep a shiny penny in...because I'm a dork.

I have a hat that I knit that I wear when I haven't showered and my hair looks gross so, surprise! to all the people who think I look cute on those days!

While I was at Disney, I also wore this hat.  I mean, I wore my costume hats too, but this was my fun hat.
And my Stitch wore a Nala as a hat...

The most recent hat that I've worn though has been a mortar board.  It's my personal opinion that these hats look dumb and no one looks good in them.  On my graduation day, mine kept slipping backwards because the hair pins decided they didn't want to do their job.  Needless to say they were fired after the event.  Anyway, mortar boards.  I'm not sure what they're supposed to look like or what the tradition is, but suddenly it feels very important for me to consult Wikipedia to find out.  [this is when Brianna went to consult Wikipedia about the mortar board]  Because everything on the Internet is true.  Well then.  It seems that the mortar board was adapted from hats that the clergy wore.  And there are so many variations on how schools in the U.S. use them, it makes my head spin a little.  Oh, and whatever you do, don't throw them...you'll hurt someone because they're like ninja stars...

Isn't that a lovely thumnail?  Enjoy "Exchanging Hats" by Elizabeth Bishop.

"Some hats can only be worn if you're willing to be jaunty, to set them at an angle and to walk beneath them with a spring in your stride as if you're only a step away from dancing.  They demand a lot of you."

- Neil Gaiman, Anansi Boys

Nothing New, Just Procrastinating

Q:  So what's going on?

A:  I am job searching.  When I say that I'm job searching, I really mean that I'm finding creative ways of using the Internet that doesn't involve searching for jobs on the limited number of job search sites that I've bothered for about a month now.  Procrastination is something that I'm very familiar with, so this is nothing new.

My most recent procrastination is Here's the Story, specifically their podcasts.  I don't usually listen to podcasts, mostly for unknown reasons.  I guess I just feel like I should be doing something else at the same time.  Even though I'm procrastinating, I'm a very efficient procrastinator who does lots of things while she's procrastinating.  So I'm writing this blog post while I'm listening to stories from Here's the Story and I just finished up writing Poem-A-Day things while listening to (guess what) stories from Here's the Story.  It's a really neat show and I'm having a lot of fun listening to the stories.  It's quickly becoming a goal of mine to go see this show in person, and I'm really excited about this prospect.

I've been knitting a Hufflepuff scarf for my friend while simultaneously watching Dollhouse.  I'm getting pretty far in both the television show and on the scarf, so far that I'm almost halfway through the second season and the scarf reaches from the floor to my neck.  I am 5'5''.  Having a lot of fun with the show, especially when I can marvel at the acting talents of those who play the dolls because wow.  Just wow.

Additionally, I'm also starting multiple projects relating to my poetry, which is really neat, but I'm not even sure which one to focus on because I'm excited about them all but I don't have nearly enough hands to do all of them at once.  So really they're all sitting on the chair in my room in a stack of poetic mess, doing about as much as I am with regards to my job search.

A friend of my mother's asked me on Saturday night, "So how's the job search going, Brianna, does it totally suck?"  I had no idea what to say to that.  Well, honestly?  Yeah, a little bit.  I haven't heard from anyone, and the ones that I have heard of have said, "Thanks but no thanks."  That's fair, I can respect that.  The short version is that I don't have a job.  No job for Brianna.  I have no idea what I'm doing, I'm a little dejected, yeah.  So...I'm procrastinating for now.  Really hoping that the procrastination blows over soon...because I need to get some stuff done.

"If it weren't for the last minute, nothing would get done."

- Rita Mae Brown

Pretty

While I was playing dress up tonight, I was thinking.  Just to be clear, yes, at my age of "over 20," I was playing dress up.  Though to clarify, I wasn't playing with Mom's old bridesmaid dresses or Halloween costumes, I was playing with my very own wardrobe.  That's right.  Sweaters and jeans and all those button down shirts that I haven't touched for a very long time.  This is not the important part.

The important part is that I was thinking.  Which is a dangerous pastime, I know.

But I was thinking (after all this suspense, your thoughts better be good, Brianna) that one of the best things I got from my recently dissolved romantic relationship is a mite bit of self-esteem.  I'm not sure when it started, but I'm fairly certain that after spending just over a year being told on a regular basis that I was "pretty," "cute," "gorgeous," and the elusive "beautiful," I either figured it was true or just started believing it myself.

In March of 2012, I had every intention of posting this as part of a blog post, and then thought better of it, keeping it as a draft:

"I'm insecure about the way I look.  I'm not skinny, I'm not fat, I'm just average.  I have this awful, seemingly eternal acne that I'm wondering whether it'll ever go away.  But I will be the last one to admit that I'm pretty on any given day because I generally don't think that I am.  Then again, the majority of the people that I know who know they're pretty are insufferable to talk to, so I try to avoid them as much as possible.  But I don't wear shorts because I'm uncomfortable about my thighs, and don't start on the love handles, they're awful."

As a woman in America, there's probably a lot to be said about the media and our perceptions of ourselves being tainted by all of that, but I don't really want to have that argument.  Because frankly, I don't know much about it.

My biggest realization is that when I look back on that post I feel sad.  Not because of how poorly it's written, but because I seriously felt that way last year.  Even when I was surrounded by so much love and affection from friends, family, and a significant other who never hesitated to compliment me.

Today I pranced around in the strangest combinations of my ordinary clothes, and I felt like a princess.  Sure, there were things that didn't fit, but that's life, isn't it?  We're going to grow out of some dresses and facades, and we're going to grow into new ones.  And I think a lot of the confidence and pride in myself came from the relationship that I had with that significant other.  Maybe I'm giving him (or the relationship) too much credit, but now that it's not a thing anymore, I don't really find myself thinking, "I wonder if someone'll think I'm pretty again," it's more of a "I'm pretty, so I'm going to have fun" type thing.  Don't get me wrong, I miss being told I'm pretty on a regular basis, like for real.  We should really compliment each other more often and mean it, because I'm not too sure we hear that we're awesome often enough.  Sure, I've got my insecurities, and I could use either a gym membership or the determination to get off the couch and do things...but I'm having way too much fun believing I'm pretty to let much of anything get me down.

Oh me?  Yeah, I'm modest too.

And like slam poetry?  Check out Kate Mikkai: Pretty.  I am significantly shallower than this sometimes.  Kinda like now...

"That's always seemed so ridiculous to me, that people want to be around someone because they're pretty.  It's like picking your breakfast cereals based on color instead of taste."

- John Green

Stress

Let's face it, this post has been a long time coming.  We all knew this was coming, and now you people who actually read my blog can rest at ease because it's true, I'm stressed and I'm going to be writing about it.

After the end of the Disney College Program, I found my way back to my hometown, which means that I'm living with my parents.  This doesn't feel like it should be a really big deal, but with my brother returning to university, I'm (for all intents and purposes) an only child.  I mean this in the sense that my parents' attentions, concerns, aggression is all concentrated on me.  I've only begun to realize this now.

(BRIANNA sets about packing up a bag with her laptop and other things.  DAD comes down the stairs, just woken up.)

DAD:  Where are you going?

BRIANNA: The library.

I understand that it's a parent's job to know where their child is, and I understand that they're really just looking out for me and worrying because that's all part of their job description, but I've never given them reason to worry about me, and it really shouldn't matter where I'm going because it's broad daylight, I'm a responsible pseudo-adult, and I don't have any bad influence friends to meet up with.

That's another stress that I have.  Once again I've sunk into the feeling that if I contact the friends who are nearby, I'll be bothering them.  Only a couple of my friends have steady work right now, so I really shouldn't be worrying about this as much as I am, but there it is.  I need to see people every now and again though, because otherwise I get lethargic and sink into a funk.  Which I've been on the verge of doing multiple times right up until I go to the library for some sort of human interaction with the lady who checks out the movies I'm torturing myself with.

Because there it is, the broken heart that I'm nursing.  And the cliche of saying it makes me weep more than the actual thing, so I've been telling people that the reason I'm so cold all the time is because my soul is made of ice and I don't have a heart anymore.  Because frankly, that's what it feels like.  I'm quick to cry, and I sit there remembering good times on loop.  I feel like the epitome of a romantic comedy heroine who's stuck in the misery montage with no hope of pulling myself out.  So basically, I feel not a little bit pathetic.  Through some terrible coincidence, I keep pulling romantic films off the shelves at the libraries and insisting that they'll make me feel better...and they don't really.  Which shouldn't surprise me, really.  I'm just at a loss there because no matter what I do, it hurts.  Everything hurts.  Doing things, not doing things, listening to music, skipping the familiar songs, writing horrible break-up poetry, avoiding writing poetry at all, reading, watching movies, talking, not talking.  Everything hurts, and it feels like my insides are frozen and my outsides are burning up.  Like my skin'll just turn into steam and escape through the roof and the rest of me'll just freeze and connect with concrete.  I have no idea what to do to fix this.

Oh, and money.

(BRIANNA comes back through the back door, bright and excited from a lunch with a friend.  MOM is playing a Facebook game on the computer.)

BRIANNA:  So my friend and I are planning to go on adventures in the city and maybe take some day trips out of town--

MOM:  Brianna, I'm not going to fund your fun.  I can't.

BRIANNA:  I--what?

MOM:  I can't fund your day trips and your fun.

Once again.  I understand this.  I have no job.  I should be looking for a job.  Preferably one that will pay me money.  With that money, I can have fun.  But at the same time, I need to have fun and see my friends in order to remain sane or run the risk of becoming a hermit.  That's ignoring the fact that hermits can have friends.

Well, if I were a hermit and friends with The Doctor, things would be different.  Point being, if I don't leave the house and have human interaction, I feel less human, more stressed.

And then I'm looking for a job.  I don't even know where to start, so I'm making it up as I go.  I keep forgetting that I'm supposed to call to follow-up and make sure that places got my resume after all, and I constantly lose track of where I applied anyway no matter how many lists I keep.  I'm looking at positions in libraries, small publishing houses, and universities, anything that I might be vaguely interested in.  Once it starts warming up, I'm planning on knocking on doors all up and down the streets where the small businesses live nearby my home, but I'm really hoping that it doesn't come down to that.  And all I want to do is write.

What it all boils down to is: I'M STRESSED!  Living with my parents is a weird dance thing that I have to do so everyone retains some semblance of happiness, I have no friends, busy friends, or friends I'm afraid to bother, I'm looking for a job, dealing with a broken heart (or lack of a heart), and wanting to write.  And there it is.  So now I've spent 20 some odd minutes writing this post instead of searching for a job while I've been at the library, but you know...it kinda helped in a weird way?  Happy Tuesday!

"To achieve great things, two things are needed: a plan and not quite enough time."

- Leonard Bernstein

30 Day Creative Writing Challenge

Alright, so I'm thinking I'm going to do a 30 Day Creative Writing Challenge that I stole from HERE.  I need some regular writing of things, possibly fiction, possibly poetry, possibly a little bit of both as well as some stream of consciousness-ish things.  So we'll see what happens.  These will start on January 1st.  Ready, set, GO!

Day 1: Re-write a classic fairy tale

Day 2: Write a fanfiction

Day 3: A story that takes place pre-1950

Day 4: A poem using the words: blue, mistrust, half, twang

Day 5: A story revolving around an object in your room

Day 6: Start your story with: “He glanced at his watch impatiently…”

Day 7: Create a superhero. Have he/she save the day.

Day 8: Write a prequel to that Superhero. Pre-Superhero life. Maybe their childhood.

Day 9: A story in 250 words or less about your favorite city

Day 10: Start story with: “She touched the little box in her pocket and smiled…”

Day 11: A story where the characters go without power for a day.

Day 12: Find 10 random words and create your own definitions.

Day 13: Begin with “I thought I saw…”

Day 14: randomly find someone in your yearbook. Create a story about their life today.

Day 15: Write about a stranger you see. Either their back-story or what they are thinking in the moment you see them.

Day 16: Go to iTunes, put your music on random. Write a story about the first song that comes up. (250 words or less)

Day 17: Use time travel in a story

Day 18: A story set in a ghost town.

Day 19: Write an obituary for a historical figure

Day 20: Use these words in a story: grandfather, photo album, post office, and folder

Day 21: He or she sees their crush in a library. describe the incident.

Day 22: Write a story based on a dream you had

Day 23: Describe/fictionalize a childhood memory

Day 24: Write a story that takes place 100 years in the future

Day 25: Write a story about a mythical creature.

Day 26: Write about the 30th picture on your phone or computer. Write about the story behind it, or make up the story behind it.

Day 27: Story taking place during a sporting event (any sport)

Day 28: Story on a ship. Past, present, or future.

Day 29: Story about space

Day 30: Story or poem about ice

Half

Today is my half birthday.  Considering I'm over the age at which we answer the question of "And how old are you?" with "I'm seven and a half," you'd think that I wouldn't really care or even remember that it's my half birthday.  In fact, the sheer fact that my real live birthday will be in six months should be terrifying because I'm getting old.

But the fact is that right now I don't really mind getting old.  Right now I'm more worried about growing up.  And I know I've written about this multiple times because it's a constant concern, but I'm going to write about it again because I feel like it.  And the number of people who read this blog will be thrilled that I'm writing and everyone else won't be effected, so blah.
Recently I got a Christmas present with the theme of "growing up versus growing old."  And I've decided that I'm significantly more okay with growing old.  Mostly because it's only a matter of time before I can say, "In my day, we didn't have all those new-fangled gadgets and gizmos..."  Because that's really one of my main desires in life.  So this gift had little things that remind me what it's like to be a kid and actually play because there are these boredom buster cards and these story dice.  You know, I could probably post a picture...

Look at this really awful picture!  Yay!

Alright.  So we've got the deck of boredom buster cards which are brightly colored and beautiful.  The story cubes which are going to be a ton of fun to play with.  The picture frame to illustrate our friendship, and Barbie: Island Princess to remind me of good times had while watching cheesy Barbie movies.  All packed into a box that reminds anyone who's remotely familiar with Harry Potter of the letter from Molly Weasley to the Dursleys.  Basically this package made my day and filled me with happiness.

Because let's face it.  As life goes on, I'm going to be writing my very own story.  Whether it be the story of my life, or the fictional accounts that I write on this blog, or poetry.  And sometimes I'm going to need some inspiration.  And even then "adult life" could still get boring, so I'm going to need some way of combating that boredom.  Through it all I'm always going to have the friends that mean the most to me and who stick with me.  And sometimes I'll just need to laugh and remember what it's like to be a true kid instead of just a kid in an adult's body.

What it all boils down to is this: I may be growing older, but I sure as hell am not growing up.

“All children, except one, grow up. They soon know that they will grow up, and the way Wendy knew was this. One day when she was two years old she was playing in a garden, and she plucked another flower and ran with it to her mother. I suppose she must have looked rather delightful, for Mrs Darling put her hand to her heart and cried, ‘Oh, why can’t you remain like this for ever!’ This was all that passed between them on the subject, but henceforth Wendy knew that she must grow up. You always know after you are two. Two is the beginning of the end.” 

- J.M. Barrie in Peter Pan

Oz

Q:  So we're talking about Wizard of Oz today?  I knew you liked it, but not as much as you like Wicked...

A:  We're not talking about Wizard of Oz.

Q:  But--but--really?  Why not?

A:  Because we're talking about Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Q:  We--uh--what?

A:  Just shut up and listen, okay.  But in all fairness, anyone who hasn't seen Buffy the Vampire Slayer might want to skip this post, there are spoilers.  Kind of.  I mean, there are things that you could probably figure out all on your own, but yeah.  I really just want an excuse to use ***SPOILER ALERT*** in a real live blog post.  That's right.

Okay, so I've always known that if I were a character in Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I would be Willow.

Willow's the bookworm.  She's awkward, cheerful, usually looks on the bright side and harbors a gigantic crush on one of her best friends.  She's also the one who discovers she's a lesbian later on in the series, but when I'm talking about my being Willow, I'm talking about the high school Willow.  The awkward adorable one.  The one who wears strange sweaters and tights when her classmates are wearing mini skirts and belly shirts.  Yeah.  I'm Willow in her days before she becomes cool in college and before she comes into her own as a witch.

A large part of why I was okay with being Willow was the fact that in high school she ends up with Oz for a while.

If I had a favorite character on Buffy, hands down it would be Oz.  He is my absolute favorite because though he doesn't talk much, when he does, he's clever and sweet.  Basically he's perfect for Willow because he's smart, he adores her awkwardness, and he's super kind to her.  He's matter-of-fact and unapologetic about his affection for her, and he's just so cool.  Maybe that seems like a lame reason to like a character, but I love Oz.  Like a lot.

While Angel is all "I'll love you until the day I day, oh wait, I'm immortal, so basically I'll love you forever," Oz says things like "I'm going to ask you to go out with me tomorrow night, and I'm kinda nervous about it actually.  It's interesting."  Love.  So much love.

So I'm spending a lot of my time being Willow and not really worrying about things like boys, when I'm really secretly waiting for my Oz.

But what I conveniently forget is that even if I end up getting an Oz, he's going to end up leaving not only me but Sunnydale so he can tame the wolf.  Yeah, he's a werewolf.  And basically he leaves to protect Willow and everyone from the wolf, doing "what's best" for everyone around him.  And when I watched the show, I wanted to punch him in the face for hurting Willow like that, just leaving her on the curb as he drives away.  She's stuck broken-hearted and in Sunnydale where all she really gets to do is play second fiddle to Buffy when before that she actually mattered to someone like Oz.  But at the same time, the me who saw herself as Awkward Willow understood why Oz was taking off.  It made sense that he had to figure things out.  At the same time, I didn't realize that Willow had things to figure out too.  Though she was starting to come into her own and do more than be a sidekick, she really needed to step up.  But there were the beginnings of that that I didn't realize until I looked back on it.

Right about now, I'm not sure where I am in the Willow continuum, but I'd like to think that I'm a little less awkward if a little more adorable.  Maybe I should just take up witchcraft and see what happens.  :^P

"Sometimes, when I'm sitting in class--you know, I'm not thinking about class, 'cause that would never happen--I think about kissing you. And, it's like everything stops. It's like, it's like...freeze frame. Willow kissage. (pauses) Oh, I'm not gonna kiss you."

- Oz

White Christmas

Today we're nearing the end of November and the beginning of December.  Yesterday I walked around in jeans and a t-shirt, and this morning I seriously considered taking off my army jacket that makes me look super cool because I was warm.  But for the sake of coolness, I kept it on.  (I'm sure you were worried.)  That and I didn't want to have to carry it to the Dollar Tree.

It's weird that it's so sunny all the time, and I can safely assume that what it looks like through the window is reflected in the temperature.  For example, sun means warmth.  Comfortable warmth.

And the trees haven't gotten the memo that they're supposed to get naked by now.  I'm not kidding, all the trees are still completely dressed.  Although I'm not sure I really want to see a palm tree naked, I do think it would be funny to see all those big fan leaves yellowed and crumpled on the sidewalk.

This is when I start realizing that I'm not in the Midwest, but it's supposed to be fall turning into winter.

Right about now if I was back at home, I'm pretty sure I would be bundled up in a jacket, scarf, hat, and gloves.  I would be sharing pockets with the boy because his gloves don't have fingers and my pockets are warm.  I would probably wear a sweater to class and then remember that it's in the general classroom building which is usually hotter than Hades year round.  And when I forget that I have class in the science building because that's where they stick business classes, I'd just shiver through it.

It might be sunny back home, but if you step out of the house without a jacket, you'll just have to turn around and grab it because sunshine does not equal warmth in the autumn months back home.  Some of the more reckless folk would just venture out in a hoodie, but I've always been one of those people who's always cold, so...jacket and scarf it is.

All the trees would be naked and prancing about.  That's right, the trees prance about in the Midwest.  Yes, yes they do.

And any day now there would be snow.

I'm swiftly coming to terms with the fact that I can dream of the white Christmases I used to know as much as I want, but chances are it's not going to snow in Florida.  This is slightly depressing, but the prospect of finding a palm tree to decorate with Christmas lights is just about as exciting as the idea of putting Christmas lights on a cactus.  Not sure how it work...but it would be worth a shot.

"I'm dreaming of a white Christmas.  Just like the ones I used to know."

- 'White Christmas'

The Future

We're all afraid of it to some extent.  My boss told me last year that I'm perpetuating my own fear of The Future by capitalizing unnecessarily in my Twitter hashtags and whenever I refer to The Future.  Like right now.  The Future.

As a new graduate from university, college, whatever you call it, The Future is staring me right in the face.  When I think about it, it feels as if I need to make decisions about The Future, which makes sense.  Choose your fate, all that jazz, because we make our own fate, right?  But when you pick a path, don't you eliminate the possibilities and the potential of the paths that you could have chosen in the first place but didn't?  I have ideas, and some of them are silly or downright crazy, but I'm afraid of picking just one because I would have to commit to just one idea.  I don't want to limit myself.  Which is all well and good, but when The Future is standing nose to nose with you and you're still avoiding eye contact...it gets a little awkward.

I know one thing for sure.

I want to write.

I don't really care what else I do to maintain time and funding for writing, as long as it doesn't suck out my soul and leave me too drained at the end of the week to do anything but sleep.  I'd really love to be able to do something that makes me happy, and inspires me to write.

So the things that I've been thinking about for The Future all go in different directions, but these are my thoughts because I'd rather write a blog post right now than do the homework that I'm so good at procrastinating.  (Actually, if I could get paid to procrastinate, I would be richer than J.K. Rowling.)

Editor
I like helping people fix their written work.  I really like writing all over a piece of paper and drawing arrows and giving feedback about a person's work.  I like critiques.  I like workshops.  I like playing around with sentence structure and playing with other people's ideas.
I've been reading about book editors for the project that I'm procrastinating right now, and the majority of what I've read talks a lot about figuring out if a certain idea or book will sell and then selling that to the market.  This sounds a lot more business-y than I'm willing to be, and not a whole lot like what I've thought editing is like.  I'm wondering if I'm thinking of a different type of editing or if I'm thinking of lower level editors instead of the head honcho of a publishing company.
I don't really need extra schooling to be an editor or work in the publishing industry.

Student Affairs Professional
I really loved working as an RA at school.  I really enjoy working with first year students to help them figure things out, and I've always loved being a big sister or a mentor for those who are younger than me.  Though I say that I hate people a lot of the time, the truth is that I actually do like people.  I like being able to see that I've helped someone out, and I like being able to help people learn and develop.  My boss at school had a big impact on my senior year, and I want to be able to pass on that help to someone else.
I've talked to my boss and people who I know who are in this field, and their passion for their work is infectious.  It's one of those things that I get really excited about in bursts, and then get lost in trying to figure out how to do it.  There's probably a lot more administration and paperwork to be done in this field than I'm thinking, but being able to see that I'm making a difference or helping people would be huge.
I would have to go to graduate school, preferably for some college student personnel Masters degree.

Librarian
I love the library.  Though there are some libraries (particularly academic ones) that creep me out, I really love the idea of neighborhood libraries and how they could be a central hub for a community.  Creating community was a huge thing with me in college because I was an RA, and I would want to do things to create or maintain a community in a neighborhood because I think that would be really neat.  Plus I would love to be able to share my enthusiasm for books.
I'm not really sure what a librarian does outside of shelve books, assist with research projects, recommend books, help with homework, or plan community programs.  I've heard that librarians at academic librarians have to write papers and present them at conferences, but that's not really something I would be interested in.  I want to be able to help people somehow.
I would have to go to graduate school for a Masters in Library Sciences.  Which I have no idea what it means.

So what I'm saying is that if I pick one out of these three ideas, chances are I'm going to have to go to graduate school, and then I'll have to worry about all of those things.  I really want to be able to see that I'm making a difference in a community or a person's life or in their written work.  Another thing about these is that editors and librarians are sort of on a sinking ship what with self-publishing and e-books.  So I'm not really sure if either of those careers would look like something I would want to do in The Future Future anyway.

I suspect that I'm thinking too much, which is usually the case for these things, but I can't help but sit on that rocking chair of worry and get nowhere because it feels like if I'm worrying about The Future I can justify not doing something immediately.  What I'm saying is that I have no idea what I want to do with my life, and I'm not quite sure that that's okay anymore.  I'm getting bombarded from all sides with questions of what I'm going to do or who I'm going to be, and the only answer I have is "I don't know yet."  But that doesn't seem to satisfy any of the askers.  Trust me, it's not making me feel any better either.

"It's time to begin, isn't it?  I get a little bit bigger but then I'll admit I'm just the same as I was.  Now don't you understand that I'm never changing who I am."

- Imagine Dragons, 'It's Time'

Thinking about Writing instead of Writing

So my friend, Katie, and I decided that we would do NaNoWriMo.  After years of talking about doing it, I actually committed, re-signing up on the website and keeping up a word count, and saving my day's writing and all of that.  I wrote every day except yesterday.  And, well, today too.  I'm getting horribly terrible at getting myself to write all of a sudden, and I suspect that it has to do with the fact that my "novel" has no plot.    I'm writing two different sections with characters and stuff (which is hugely specific, I'm well aware), but right now neither of those sections have a plot.  Which is mildly irritating, but I'm going to try my best to persevere.

I'm also thinking that I need to learn more things about life and stuff in order to write more better things.  Yeah, that's right, I said "more better," because that's definitely a term.  And it's awesome.
Point being, I think that I need to learn more.  I want to learn more about topics that I'm not familiar with, if only because I want to be able to go on a game show and be awesome at answering the random questions.  That, and I love being a fountain of strange knowledge, so this calls for reading.  Reading of strange sources of information and the like.  What's great is that the Internet exists, which is pretty awesome.

As for learning about life, that would just come from experiencing more of it.  Actually taking chances to explore and have fun.  Go to speakers, listen to people, go to events and places where I've never been, and the like.

More genre experimentation.  I haven't played around with genre outside of fantasy, and I think that that could be fun.

I'd also like to play around with different styles of poetry, different forms of writing.  I haven't done a lot with forms, and I think that that would be challenging.  Especially since I don't think I'm particularly good at form poetry.  I could also do more with lyric essays and non-fiction type deals.  Or maybe I could write a song.

And then I need to figure out what to do with my writing.  Do I want to rewrite everything I've ever written?  Do I want to submit them for publication?  Do I want to peddle them on street corners?  Yup.  Need to figure that out.

So there are lots of things that I need to think about with regards to my writing, and get back on track with NaNoWriMo.  So enough of the procrastination, let's get writing.