the one where i write

“It’s smart! I used a thesaurus!” -Joey Tribbiani

“On every word?” -Chandler Bing

“yep.” -Joey Tribbiani

“What was this sentence, originally?” -Monica Geller

“Oh, ‘They are warm, nice people with big hearts'” -Joey Tribbiani

“And that became ‘They are humid, pre-possessing homosapians with full-sized aortic pumps.'” -Chandler Bing

“Yeah, yeah. and hey! I really mean it dude” -Joey Tribbiani

Let me start this post by saying that I never really considered myself a writer. (yes, my degree is in Professional Writing. No, that does not mean all professional writers are going to write a book.) I mean, I know I can write. I understand grammar and punctuation, and I can form a sentence (seems easy, yet, let’s be honest, a lot of people struggle with it). That being said, when people asked me what I was going to school for, my response was usually “editing” or “publishing.” Never did I say “I’m a writer.”

Actually, if I’m being completely honest, I used to hate when people read my writing. I wrote stuff when I had to, (school papers and the like) but never wanted people to read my creative writing. I had to face this fear when I became a communications intern for the Writing, Rhetoric, and American Cultures Department at Michigan State University. When my boss told me that we would be writing anywhere from 4-8 pieces per week, I remember saying “I don’t like to write” to which he promptly replied, “Well, you’ll be getting over that.”

And I did. I wrote pieces every week for the WRAC website, where hundreds of people saw them. Now, I have another communications internship. This time, it’s for a much larger organization, where thousands, not hundreds, of people are going to be reading my writing. And you know what? It doesn’t phase me. So far, I’ve written 7 pieces, and I have 5 more in draft form right now. Writing has become a part of my daily routine. (which is also why I decided to start blogging, finally.)

Well i’ll be damned, I am a writer. Hazzah.

the one with the decision

“You know what? I just shouldn’t be allowed to make decisions anymore. Phoebe, you were right, I should have never gone to London. And from now on, you make all of my decisions for me!” –Rachel Greene

“Oh no, I did that for someone once. I’m not comfortable having that kind of power and control over someones life” –Phoebe Buffay

“I’ll do it!” –Monica Geller

Decisions. We all have to make them, it’s a daily part of life. Some are easy; What am I going to have for lunch? What am I going to wear tomorrow? But others are much more difficult; What path am I going to take in my career? Should I take this job? What should I do with my life?

Recently, I was faced with one of these difficult decisions. Having just graduated college, I’m trying to establish myslf in a career, set a routine, and really start my life. I quickly realized the implications of this “adult life” when I had to choose between a position or the possibility of a position. It seems obvious: take the definite path. Right?

But what if it’s not that easy? In life, you don’t always pass “Go” and collect your 200 dollars. Sometimes, you have to choose not to pass “Go” in the chance that a better opportunity may be presented. Life isn’t a board game. Okay, technically it is. But in real life, you don’t drive a mini-van with your blue peg husband and have little peg children just by landing on a rectangular space.

Life is about taking risks. Saying “I know of this possibility, and I have to take it” knowing that it might crash and burn. If you play it safe, you may never amount to your full potential, may never achieve your dreams. Sure, you might be secure, but does security=happiness? Depends on the person, I guess.

In making this recent decision I went through all the stages. Freak out, stress, question everything, and finally…epiphany. Of course, after the epiphany stage, I went right back to the question everything stage. In times like this, sometimes you just have to say “screw logic” and go with what your heart and mind are screaming.

I went with my gut instinct. Now it’s time for me to sit back, buckle up, and ride the roller coaster of life.

I’m sure it will be a wild one.

the one with the road trip

“How could you pick up a hitchhiker? He could be a rapist, or a killer, or something!” –Phoebe Buffay
“Don’t you think I asked him that before he got in?” –Joey Tribbiani
“Know what? I’m not talking to you! You go back to sleep. And you, are you a rapist?!” –Phoebe Buffay
“No!” –Hitchhiker
“Do you like car games?” –Phoebe Buffay
“Yeah, do you know the license plate game?!” –Hitchhiker
“I LOVE the license plate game!” –Phoebe Buffay

Now, I didn’t pick up any hitchhikers, or play the license plate game, (it’s kind of lame to play by yourself) but I did go on a road trip. Kinda.

After a fantastic mini-vacation in Texas with my sister and brother-in-law, I had to drive back to the lovely KC. 8 hour trip, nothing too awful, but it was the first time I have ever driven that far by myself, if at all.

The drive through Texas was pretty simple. In fact, I remember saying to myself “whoa, I’m through Texas already? Dang!” Oklahoma, on the other hand, AWFUL.

If you ever wanted to visit Oklahoma, here you go:

There. That’s Oklahoma. Seriously. (Yes, that is “Jesus” written on the hill.) The drive through Oklahoma was trees, fields, cows, bad roads, and dead armadillos on the side of the road. (I think my count was at like 17 before I gave up keeping track.) On top of everything, Oklahoma has no cell service. None. I couldn’t make or receive calls for basically the entire state, until Tulsa. (No wonder Chandler Bing moved there out of all of Oklahoma.) I’m sure you can imagine my mother’s distress at not being able to get a hold of me when I’m on this road trip by myself.

Finally, I see the lovely “Welcome to Missouri” sign and think “ahh, yes! So close!” Wrong! The drive through Missouri was arguably the worst part, only because it was the end of the trip and I really just wanted to be done driving.

50 miles outside of Kansas City, I discovered the overwhelming urge inside my body (you know the urge… yep, the urge to pee.) There are no easy places to stop (a place that wouldn’t require me to drive aimlessly in a strange city looking for a bathroom) so I just kept going. “I’m sure I can make it” the stupid girl inside me thought. 20 miles out of KC and I was thinking I should have stopped at 50 miles.

“Come on you wuss, it’s 20 miles” the stupid girl fires back… so, naturally, I kept driving.

5 miles from KC and I’m pretty much dancing in my seat. I get off the freeway and drive through Main St and…

Get stopped by every. Fucking. Stoplight. Every one.

Don’t worry guys; I made it to the house and the bathroom without wetting myself… Barely.

Needless to say, on my next road trip (the 11 hour drive back to Michigan) I will be stopping to use the bathroom. Lesson learned.

the one with the broken printer

“I guess we are roommates now” –Rachel Greene

“Yeah. Now that you bring it up, our fridge is broken. We have to get a new one. I checked around, and your half is $400. Thanks a lot Rach” –Joey Tribbiani

“I’m not paying for half of that! I’m only staying here until my apartment gets fixed.” –Rachel Greene

“Look Rach, my parents bought this fridge just after I was born, okay? Now I have never had a problem with it. Then you show up and it breaks. What does that tell you?” –Joey Tribbiani

“uhhh, that refrigerators don’t live as long as people?” –Rachel Greene

I’ve been working on this mailing at work for about the past week or so. Basically, we have to go through and label each envelope, then print each document that needs to go in the mailing, fold them, and stuff each individual envelope. (fun, right? You’re totally jealous, I know.)

So anyway, this particular mailing was a list of around 6,000. (yes you read that right. Thousands.) So I’m going along my merry way (getting shit done, basically) and then oh! I run out of documents that need to go in the envelopes. That’s cool, I’ll just go print more. (yes you did just read some inner dialogue there.)

Well, the downstairs printer has been broken on a consistent basis since I’ve worked here, so I print the documents I need upstairs, walk my happy little mailing-ready butt upstairs to get them, and guess what… THE PRINTER IS BROKEN. Jammed all to hell, and the maintenance guy is still working on the one downstairs. It probably won’t be fixed anytime soon, they tell me.

Now, I have a very perfectionist/slightly OCD personality. So, naturally, I die a little inside when a job goes unfinished. 60 PAGES! 60! Seriously? Out of 6,000 I was 60 short. And because of those damn 60 pages, this job isn’t getting done today. And I go on vacation tomorrow. So basically what that means is the job won’t be getting finished until Monday, and to me, that might as well be never.

Basically, technology sucks, and printers ruin lives. That is all.

the one where i’m a baby

“I’m sorry I was a baby” -Rachel Greene
“That’s ridiculous, Rachel! We were all babies once!” -Phoebe Buffay

 

It’s no secret that, as a woman, I will have to fight my way in the industry, especially if I continue in sports. It may seem old fashioned to say “it’s a man’s world,” but unfortunately, that still rings true. In the short time I have been in the “grown up” world, it has been obvious that I will also have to fight the fact that I am young.

I was always the youngest in my class growing up. Having a summer birthday, I always turned the age that most people were after the school year, instead of before. Because I graduated college in three years instead of four, it makes me that much younger compared to my colleagues.

I usually enjoy the reactions I get when people first find out that I have yet to turn 21. The reaction here at the NSCAA was no different. It happened when we went out for a business meeting, and everybody ordered a drink besides me and one other employee (she was pregnant). Out came the truth: I am not legal drinking age, and yes, I have graduated college. I get “why are you so young?!” “how are you not 21 yet?!” (As if i had control over when my mom decided to have me).

My age never really bothered me until now. Yeah, I’m young. It’s a fact of life. I have been focused on my career for a long time now, and that focus has propelled me at a faster rate than others. But, being under 21 this summer has not been fun. My roommates go out on weekends, sometimes with other colleagues, and I sit at home. I cant get in to any bars around here, so I find myself watching Friends and The Vampire Diaries on weekends (not that I can complain about either of those things). I guess what bothers me is the fact that I am often considered too young to do things, or to be included in things.

I’m just planning on continuing to embrace it. Claiming “yep, I’m a baby.” I turn 21 July 29^th (yay!) Until then, I’ll continue to watch Friends.