Today…

Today, I had to work very hard to contain my rather unrestrainable wanderlust. Today, I had to be smart, and logical, and all those other boring things adults have to do. Today, I had to think about how to pay for dental insurance instead of where I would be drinking next.

Today, I adult-ed. And it was terrible.

I found the most amazing deal I think I’ll ever find. $375 for a roundtrip ticket to Paris, France, and hostel rooms for $25 per night. I had to beg my parents to convince me not to do it. I don’t exactly have money, but I have over $700–and that’s all I’d need for Paris. Who needs food when you’re literally in Paris? Certainly not me.

But I had rent to pay this summer. I have groceries to buy. I need gas to get to my internship and whatever job I end up with. I can’t just go to Paris.

So instead I started planning a trip to Canada. Granted, it’s not as exciting or exotic, but it’s also much cheaper and will hopefully satisfy my need for travel just the same…or just enough to get me through the summer until I have a job that will give me enough money to go somewhere new. I miss being able to go to another country for a weekend while I was studying abroad.

Kids, don’t grow up. Or if you do, do it nice and slowly.

How to last two weeks in your home town

 

Quite honestly, I have no help for you. None at all. I’m just sitting here in my hometown trying not to be drunk 24 hours a day. I graduated college four days ago, and I feel nothing except boredom.

I start my internship in exactly fourteen days, and they just can’t pass quickly enough.

Things that have changed since I started college:

  1. I part my hair in the middle.
  2. I drink a whole lot more.
  3. I kind of know a little bit more than when I started.

And that’s it. Tomorrow I will go to an exercise class that is something like kickboxing. It will take up approximately one hour of my life. I’m not sure what to do with the other 23.

Here’s a hint: freelancing is difficult. I read on The Financial Diet that I should have “side hustles”. I didn’t even know what that meant, at first. Now I feel pressure to have one, and nobody seems to be equally interested. Upwork.com is rather useless, and I can’t trust anyone enough to actually put in payment information. Wyznt.com is pretty reliable, but I also know for a fact that there are people much more knowledgeable than I am on there.

Who would seriously trust this graduated-alcoholic to tutor their child? I did well on my SAT’s but Jesus, I wouldn’t trust me with much.

Basically, I’m in the middle of this slump. It’s a life slump, and I’m just biding my time until I move to Rochester to start my internship. There’s a lot of drinking, a lot of tanning, and a lot of almost losing my mind with boredom. I love my family, but all I want to do is go to bars and have “fun”, whatever that means. Too young for suburbia, I am. But I guess I can offer a few tips:

  1. Be drunk.

And I’m talking spend a ridiculous portion of the day drunk. As long as you have nowhere to be (and, let’s face it, you’re at home so you don’t have to be ANYWHERE) just keep drinking. Alcohol makes the most banal situations seem exciting. For example, today a mosquito bit me. You’d think I’d just been attacked by ISIS with how I reacted. Alcohol will make things interesting–I make no guarantees about whether it’ll be bad or good interesting.

  1. Eat a lot

That bikini body you’ve been working on for oodles and oodles of time? Say goodbye to it. In the few weeks that you’re home, you’ll start eating everything. I don’t even like greasy foods, but I swear I ate four pieces of pizza in one day. Mozzarella sticks that make my stomach feel sick after consuming? Whatever, bring them on. I’ll eat it and it’ll pass about fifteen minutes of the endless time of being home.

  1. Text a boy you found on a dating app

Is he a serial killer? Who can tell? But he’ll amuse the hell out of you for the two weeks you’re stuck in the hell called home. He’s probably doing fun things in the city while you sit and rot! Get him to tell you about it so you can live vicariously!

That’s all I have for you. Until next time.

 

I’ve been missing.

My deepest apologies for nearly a month without posting. I’ve been…busy. I swear, I’ve used the time wisely. How, you may ask?

I have an internship. An editorial internship. As in “related to what I want to do”! It’s unpaid, mostly because it’s an independent, non-profit publishing company that runs on grants, but I’ll be working retail and hopefully some side hustles throughout the three month period I’m interning. It’s a small company, about three people actually on-staff, but that means I’ll actually be functioning as one of their staff. I’ve been assured there will be no coffee-fetching!

Basically, this place uses their interns as extra employees, so I’ll be editing manuscripts, corresponding with authors and distributors, and everything in between. There are even some author events that I get to attend! I don’t know if anyone can tell, but I’m very excited about this opportunity.

I also have a lot of respect for the company itself. Their goal is not at all to make money—it’s to spread good literature and poetry. It’s definitely a company I’m proud to be a part of, with people that I am delighted to learn from.

Besides the internship, I also have my first non-school apartment! I found it all by myself after scouring over one hundred Craigslist postings and visiting four different locations. I also argued down the rent by about $30. I’m officially an adult.

However, to detract from my adult-ness, I will be depending on my parents for half my rent. There’s no way I could make enough working part-time to cover rent each month, so my parents have very kindly consented to split it with me. They’re incredibly wonderful people who want to make it as easy as possible for me to get my “start” without making me dependent on them. I think they’re also just excited this whole publishing idea has resulted in something tangible post-graduation.

The truth of the matter is that I’ll probably move back into my parent’s house at the end of the summer. Honestly, I’m not very upset about it. Although I still want to move to New York City and working at a large publishing house, I also want to be able to save my money and maybe even spend a little more time with those lovely parents of mine.

I’ve felt very ready to graduate and leave school lately. It definitely has something to do with the exciting future I now actually have, but I think it’s also because I’m just ready to move on. For a while, I was really panicking about leaving school. All I’d done for sixteen years was learn, write academic papers, and just be a student. Not that it wasn’t hard work (oh my goodness, it was) but it is a limited perspective. I was incredibly worried about taking on the unknown, as I’m sure many students are.

That friend that wasn’t excited to go to graduate school? She’s decided not to go for a year. She’s facing far more unknown than I am, but we were equally miserable about starting our Big Person lives. Now? Now I can’t wait for my new start. I want to meet new people outside of my very small college, I want to really perfect my writing and editing, and I want to be able to focus on things like this blog. I want to focus beyond when my next test is, or the next assignment is due.

I graduate in two weeks, and although I’m apprehensive, I am not scared. I’m excited. It’s the feeling in your stomach right before a roller coaster drops. The anticipation.

I’ll keep this blog updated more frequently now (hopefully), and I’ll try to share any internship/side hustle information I can. After all, the whole purpose of this blog in the first place was to share ideas, talk like a nerd about books, and hopefully get some help myself.

My deepest apologies for nearly a month without posting. I’ve been…busy. I swear, I’ve used the time wisely. How, you may ask?

I have an internship. An editorial internship. As in “related to what I want to do”! It’s unpaid, mostly because it’s an independent, non-profit publishing company that runs on grants, but I’ll be working retail and hopefully some side hustles throughout the three month period I’m interning. It’s a small company, about three people actually on-staff, but that means I’ll actually be functioning as one of their staff. I’ve been assured there will be no coffee-fetching!

Basically, this place uses their interns as extra employees, so I’ll be editing manuscripts, corresponding with authors and distributors, and everything in between. There are even some author events that I get to attend! I don’t know if anyone can tell, but I’m very excited about this opportunity.

I also have a lot of respect for the company itself. Their goal is not at all to make money—it’s to spread good literature and poetry. It’s definitely a company I’m proud to be a part of, with people that I am delighted to learn from.

Besides the internship, I also have my first non-school apartment! I found it all by myself after scouring over one hundred Craigslist postings and visiting four different locations. I also argued down the rent by about $30. I’m officially an adult.

However, to detract from my adult-ness, I will be depending on my parents for half my rent. There’s no way I could make enough working part-time to cover rent each month, so my parents have very kindly consented to split it with me. They’re incredibly wonderful people who want to make it as easy as possible for me to get my “start” without making me dependent on them. I think they’re also just excited this whole publishing idea has resulted in something tangible post-graduation.

The truth of the matter is that I’ll probably move back into my parent’s house at the end of the summer. Honestly, I’m not very upset about it. Although I still want to move to New York City and working at a large publishing house, I also want to be able to save my money and maybe even spend a little more time with those lovely parents of mine.

I’ve felt very ready to graduate and leave school lately. It definitely has something to do with the exciting future I now actually have, but I think it’s also because I’m just ready to move on. For a while, I was really panicking about leaving school. All I’d done for sixteen years was learn, write academic papers, and just be a student. Not that it wasn’t hard work (oh my goodness, it was) but it is a limited perspective. I was incredibly worried about taking on the unknown, as I’m sure many students are.

That friend that wasn’t excited to go to graduate school? She’s decided not to go for a year. She’s facing far more unknown than I am, but we were equally miserable about starting our Big Person lives. Now? Now I can’t wait for my new start. I want to meet new people outside of my very small college, I want to really perfect my writing and editing, and I want to be able to focus on things like this blog. I want to focus beyond when my next test is, or the next assignment is due.

I graduate in two weeks, and although I’m apprehensive, I am not scared. I’m excited. It’s the feeling in your stomach right before a roller coaster drops. The anticipation.

I’ll keep this blog updated more frequently now (hopefully), and I’ll try to share any internship/side hustle information I can. After all, the whole purpose of this blog in the first place was to share ideas, talk like a nerd about books, and hopefully get some help myself.

nervous nervous nervous.

Pre-Interview:

I don’t know if you can tell, it’s pretty subtle, but I’m a bit on edge. I’m 18 minutes away from my first phone interview/screening and I kind of want to projectile vomit. At the same time, I just want to get it over with. The waiting is absolute agony.

I’ve decided I’m going to do this post in two parts. One before the interview that’s mean to get my thoughts out of my head so this poor woman doesn’t have to listen to me ramble, and the other as a sort of reflection piece after. I figure if I mess it up, someone else can at least benefit from seeing how and why and avoiding exactly that. Oh goodness, I’m nervous.

I’m not particularly into the job, it’s just the first time a job interview has mattered so much in the scheme of things. It’d be nice to know I had options when I graduate, although I know if something more editorial assistant-like was offered, I’d snap it up in a heartbeat. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to give this preliminary interview everything I have.

To prepare, I’ve been to the company’s website, read their manifesto and mission statement, and done some research into what other people are saying about them (past employees, current employees, competition, etc.). Seems like a pretty good place to work, and it’s not too far from my family home, so the adjustment from college to real life would be a little less jarring. I could go home for Sunday dinners, just like my mom wants.

At the same time, though, I think I might need change that’s a little bit more drastic to mark the transition. I’m also not entirely sure what that means right now, but there. I’ve said it.

Later:

She missed the call-time. Isn’t that so funny? I was awake two hours earlier than I had to be because I wanted to prepare. I wanted to ace this, my first interview for my future. I wanted to blow her away with how organized and ready I was. Some part of me even hoped she’d offer me the job right away. I’m just that impressive.

No. Instead, I stared at the phone for thirty minutes and had to get ready in a whirlwind for class because I’d spent the entire morning anxiously awaiting a phone call that didn’t come until an hour later than it was supposed to while I was in class. I couldn’t even answer because I was leading a discussion about the submissions to the literary journal we work on as a class.

It’s possibly the most dejected I’ve felt in a couple of weeks (which is actually a great sign for my mental health).

I spent the morning feeling sorry for myself and forgotten, which was incredibly overdramatic. And, even worse, it was unproductive. I was distracted from what is basically my job right now, and felt unprepared to show my professor I what I’d been working on. It was just a shit way to exist for several hours.

Then I stopped myself (meds are amazing in that they give you control over your brain. Wild concept, I’m aware). It wasn’t helping me at all to get angry at this woman, who probably just wrote it in her calendar incorrectly. Feeling dejected wasn’t going to help me get a job, and in fact would probably be counterproductive. I reminded myself that I had, honestly, not even been that excited for this particular job. It’s not exactly in the field I’m trying to get my foot into. So why was I so upset.

My pride. I’d been vain enough to think that I was so important, that this woman was definitely interviewing me and maybe six other people for the position, but leaning heavily towards me. Which is ridiculous, because that’s just not how the hiring process works.

I’m competing with everyone from my graduating class across the country (and, often, outside of it), as well as the ever-growing number of people from previous years who still don’t have employment.

If I want to make it in the publishing world, or any field, I need to get a tougher skin. Each rejection letter is not a personal slight, and each forgotten or missed opportunity is not the end of the world as we know it. At least…I hope not.

A Few Lessons I’ve Learned

It’s not like I set out to hurt him. It was the summer before my senior year of high school. I was seventeen, I wanted to have fun! I was looking for a summer of kisses by the pool, late night movies, and ice cream (hell, I’d even take frozen yogurt).

He wasn’t on the same page. He was the type of guy who fell, and fell hard. Maybe I should’ve recognized it, but I didn’t. I told him outright: I didn’t want anything too serious. Apparently he hadn’t heard me very well.

After I broke up with him a week into summer vacation, he cried. A lot. He threw things around the room and began swearing like a sailor, saying he was sure he’d never connect with someone like me again.

It was so hard to stop myself from screaming, “You’re 17, this is not the end of the world!” Upon further consideration, I thought this might be a bit insensitive, so I held back.

Truth is, most girls don’t think like I do. In fact, not a lot of teenagers think like I do. That doesn’t mean I’m wrong–I want to make that clear. I have different priorities, that’s all. I don’t want an epic love story. They’re great for books and movies and shit, but they don’t fit my personality. Which leads me to this list. I want to show people that having these traits isn’t something to be ashamed of. You are not heartless. You’re different. You are not average.

1) I find it difficult, nay, impossible to take things too seriously.

If I’m too serious, I’ll care too much because that’s just who I am. And then when everything goes to pot, I’m left crying in a corner somewhere. The best example of this is when I joined PETA. I kept signing all their petitions, thinking I was making this massive difference. Needless to say, it crushed me when I found out most people dismissed PETA as being full of crazy, chicken-loving, vegan nut-jobs. I think I cried for four hours when I thought of all the abused puppies I was definitely not saving. First lesson: find humor in everything, or you’ll explode.

2) I HATE depending on anybody. For anything.

Example: I work two jobs because I don’t like asking my parents for money. They’re generously paying for a huge chunk of my college tuition (when I get there next year) and they’ve been giving me free room, board, and meals…for 18 years. I figure the least I can do is buy my own clothes, pay for my own movies, cover my phone’s data plan.

The main reason he and I broke up was because he a) didn’t drive…at all b)let his mother and sisters do everything for him, including his laundry and c) made ME drive every single time he wanted to see me, which was ALL the time. He infuriated me. He had zero ambition, and didn’t have his permit because he couldn’t be bothered to get up off his ass and take a fifteen minute test. Not only that, but he was so painfully shy he made no effort with my family. I was the one going to his house every single freaking day and watching him play video games, chatting with his sisters and endearing myself to his family. The one time he came over to my house, he sat awkwardly by the pool and wouldn’t talk to anybody but me.

But I digress.

Lesson Duex: There is nothing wrong with independence.

3) I am driven.

Now, I’m not a valedictorian-future-president-diplomat-extrodinaire type of driven, but I have goals that I will reach. I want to go Pre-Med in college, go to med school, and have an extremely career-orientated life. And, I’m perfectly happy NOT getting married. I have friends and dogs for company, and they won’t make me talk about my feelings the night of an exam.

I’m an A student, secretary of my high school’s chapter of K.E.Y. Club, and a member of the Music Honors Society. I play violin, guitar, and piano. I sing in one of my school’s audition-only choirs. My SAT scores were great, but I’m retaking them in October to improve the math section. I’ve had colleges sending me special applications with offers for merit scholarships all summer.

Lesson the third: Working for what you want pays off.

I’m writing this mainly because I’ve noticed people think there’s something wrong with how I live. For whatever reason, people simply cannot fathom that I, a teenage girl, do not want ‘relationship’. In truth, I’m fine with kissing, hanging out, going to films, whatever. What I don’t like is the idea in high school of all places people expect to find their soul mate and live happily ever after forever and ever and text every second of every freaking day and hang out all the time and never ever ever part ever.

It even sounds annoying when I’m typing it.

I suppose I hate it because of my whole not-depending-on-people-thing, but I don’t want someone who is my whole world. Personally, I find that a bit unhealthy. Just a tad. Romeo and Juliet is one of my favorite plays of all time, but no, I do not want a love like that. I like to think that if my significant other died, I would be sad for a bit but be able to continue living. That sort of thing–being alive–appeals to me, for whatever reason.

I’m sure this works for people. Great for them. But don’t look at me like I’m mad for not wanting it.

OH and one more: Don’t take shit from anybody. It doesn’t make you a bitch. It makes you strong.