New blog!

Hello, everyone. I've been absent lately. That's because I've been busy over here. That's right, I've got a new blog. It's all about life, job hunting, building a "career" and what that means for Gen Y's like myself (i.e. those of who've grown up with the internet and are also trying to enter the workforce in a really terrible, awful recession).

Does this mean I'll retire this blog? I'm not sure. Probably not. It might have to go on hiatus, though, while I put time and energy elsewhere. So, dear readers (however few) be patient, and read my new blog in the meantime!

The smell of roast chicken

Last week was difficult. Last week featured a fifteen minute crying jag, as I sat in the Food Lion parking lot. I was on the phone with my father wailing about how I would never, ever learn how to drive my car (a stick shift) and that my bank account was dwindling rapidly.

This week has been better. My mother was right when she told me things would get better. I've got a few job interviews lined up. The car, while still terrifying, is not as challenging as before. My living room is suffused with a lovely, golden glow because the sun is shining right through the rain. The air is cool and the house smells of roasting chicken and potatoes. My fiance just pulled in. I even discovered that I can temporarily remove the obnoxious, highly sensitive smoke alarm to my bedroom so that it doesn't go off every time I try to cook something.

Life is good.

Free time?

And so, graduation came and went. I am now settled into a new apartment (only for the summer alas - I've got to find something quick as my sublease ends in August). Having free time feels wrong ... almost sinful, after a senior year full of intense coursework and being an editor for the newspaper. Hopefully I'll find a job soon, because I'm nearing broke. I also intend to start researching grad school options. I suppose I also need to start planning my wedding at some point (gosh, that sounds weird).

Although my sudden influx of free time feels disorienting, it also allows me to pursue things that I never had time for before. Right now, this means taking an online course through Writers.com called "Intro to New Media." It starts on the 19th, and I'm very excited (thanks Guilford for the grant money to pay for it). This blog is getting dated and inadequate for my (hopefully more professional) needs, so I'm looking forward to investing some time in learning more about writing for new media by building up an online portfolio/blog. I'm also thinking that getting published would be helpful, since I'll need new things to post in my portfolio. College did not teach me how to freelance, however. Any tips on getting started would be welcome.

Sometimes when I write down aspirations such as "get published" or "get proficient in new media and networking" or "get into an awesome grad program on writing for digital media" I wonder if I've got the right goals. On the one hand, I wonder if I'm aiming too high. On the other hand, I wonder if others would think I'm aiming too low and setting myself up for financial uncertainty and little success. But then I think to myself, well who cares? Things are changing pretty quickly and pretty radically these days: culturally, socially, and even personally (especially if you're in your 20's like I am). In the face of that, why not just pursue what you care about most? Adjustments can always be made, but compromising or giving up on something too early never got anyone anywhere.

And then, when I am very anxious, I read Sugar. She reminds me that "the future has an ancient heart."

Graduation

Well. This is my last night in my college room. My little shoebox in the on-campus apartments at Guilford College. The walls are bare. Almost everything is boxed up. I feel like I'm trying to cut myself off from my emotions, lest the floodgates open. I feel a deep sense of happiness, accomplishment (I'm graduating with high academic honors) and a real sense of relief. I'm ready to move on. And yet, I'm dogged by a feeling of sadness and nostalgia. I remember moving into my dorm for the first time. I was so nervous and excited. I really had no idea what was coming. I didn't know who I would meet, what I would learn, or whether or not I'd still be with my boyfriend come graduation. I didn't know I'd go to England, Italy, France and Germany. I didn't know I'd become an editor for the newspaper.
I cannot even begin to describe all the lessons (both academic and otherwise) that will be represented by that little piece of paper I'll be handed tomorrow. Guilford has been home to me. Guilford has shaped me. I think it's made me ready to make a new home, find a new calling. I may feel very green and unprepared for the "real world" still. On the other hand, I followed my gut when I chose to come here and I haven't been disappointed. Guilford has allowed me to honor my sense of passion and commitment ... a commitment to writing, creativity, excellence, hard work and meaningful relationships with others. For all its flaws (and issues that plague all institutions), I think I can safely say that Guilford has lived up to all it promised and more.
As for everyone who has supported me, I just can't thank you enough. Mom and Dad: thanks for everything, but most of all thank you for always, always telling me that I could be a writer and an English major if I wanted to. My favorite faculty (you know who you are): thank you for everything you taught me. David: thanks for just being you. My dear, dear friends: college would not have been the same without you.
I can only hope that whatever it is that led me here will continue to lead me on to equally wonderful things.
And that is that, ladies and gentlemen. I'm done with college.

Engaged

Well. It's been an eventful few weeks. Finals are nearly over, graduation is impending (four days, now?) and my boyfriend of three years proposed last weekend. I said yes, naturally. He went to elaborate lengths to in order to propose (a trip to a winery, a picnic lunch, and a wine bottle floating down the creek were all involved). In the end, he ended up wading out up to his thighs in said creek to fish out the wine bottle (I was perplexed and wondering how we would drive home with his blue jeans soaking wet) just to give me the note that was inside the bottle. I finally caught up with what was happening, started weeping, and he pulled out a ring.
And that was that. It feels remarkably normal ... like the day you turn 13 and realize that you don't feel any different than you did yesterday. I take this as a good sign, finding this transition not be a real transition at all (rather, that the transition came already, and the engagement has come in recognition of it). All the same, it was a magical day. I feel so grateful to have a partner who treats me so well.
In other news, I remain jobless, but hopeful. I have a place to live for the summer. I've got grant money to do fun/instructive things with new media. I'm graduating from college with honors. I am going to see my family and celebrate soon. Packing is the only bane of my existence.