The world can't end today (because I said so).

So, as you might have heard, the world is supposed to end at some arbitrary 6:00 PM today. This will simply not do because right now my life is amazing. Of course, the likelihood that the world would come to a cataclysmic end once I finally reached an acceptable level of happy and good is high because if there's one thing I've learned from being alive the last 23.5 year it's that life LOVES to fuck with happiness. Anytime people on a TV show or in a movie are happy and enjoying their existence, you just know there's a creepster with a chainsaw lurking behind the sunshine and flowers ready to fuck their shit up. It's just how the universe balances out.

But, I figure that I should at least be allowed a few years' worth of this happy rainbow existence before it's all sucked away. Is that really too much to ask? So, to whatever being is looking down upon us ready to push the "end all" button, I present some reasons why that's a terrible idea that he/she/it should feel terrible about. 

1. I just became an adult. Okay, so technically I've been an "adult" now for 5 years but up until the last month or so I was still more or less dependent on other people for things. As of Monday morning, I will be a permanent, full-time, salaried employee at the company I've been temping with for the past 9 months. I have a career, so to speak, a gorgeous apartment in a funky cool neighborhood, I pay all of my bills (even my phone now -- huzzah!) and I'm slated to get married in just a little over 2 years. I'm a friggin' grown up! I've spent most of my existence as a kid needing to depend on others, and it's about time I get to make life mine.
2. Lady Gaga's new album isn't out yet. Sure, to some she might be all the evidence necessary to point to the world's imminent doom, but I am a proud Little Monster and refuse to go out without hearing every single second of Born This Way. Come on, can you get any more amazing? I'm guessing possibly yes, which is why the world can't end until after at least May 25 to give me time to rock out and memorize every single track (starting with Judas which is just incredible).
   
   
3. My tomatoes aren't even purchased, let alone in the ground and growing. The best part about our new apartment/neighborhood is the community garden that sits literally next door to our lovely little carriage house. I am super pumped to grow things and eat the fruits of my labor which won't happen if the world ends. And how cute is Terrell standing in our new plot?
   
   
   
4. Summer has finally reached Syracuse. Today started off slightly humid, but had brightened to sunny and gorgeous by late morning. We spend six-eight months out of the year enduring the cold, the snow, the wind and the rain (not to mention all the grey... so. much. grey!) so when summer/spring decides to show up we DESERVE our fair share with it. End the world during the second straight week of snow and bitter cold, sure, but now when things are beautiful? What a jerk.
   
   

   

   Look - green, everywhere! What a sight.

   
   

   

   OMG, a color that isn't white or grey.

So, what I'm basically saying is this: the world won't end because it's too wonderful right now and I'm sure we've all got far too many awesome things to look forward to.

What are you looking forward to doing after today ends?

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I'm a real girl adult, now!

This past week, I made a somewhat (personally) earth-shattering discovery: it is possible to be happy after college. Not only is it possible to be happy, it is possible to be perhaps happier than ever before. I "survived" my first week as a copywriter, and now that I finally have the time to sit down and write about it I am making this long-overdue post.

Gorgeous downtown Syracuse architecture.

Monday morning was much like the first day of school. I had spent an hour the night before getting my clothes and lunch ready, packing my bag and not getting to bed at a decent time (though I totally planned to). My alarm went off at the excruciatingly early 6:00AM, a time I will probably be frighteningly familiar with in a month. I showered, dressed, ate a hasty breakfast, put my makeup on. By 7:10, I was standing outside waiting for the bus feeling about as nervous as I did the day I started high school seven years ago.

As I walked through the doors of my new building, I pondered over the same things fourteen-year-old me did: Will I make any friends? Where will I sit at lunch? Will I like my classes? Okay, change "classes" to "work" and you get the general picture. The building I work in was built in 1897 and has a gorgeous lobby with double staircases sweeping up either side to the first floor. The elevators are ancient, wobbly and horrifyingly slow.

Of course I take them instead of the stairs, because ultimately my laziness trumps my fear of elevator death. Though on Wednesday one of my coworkers showed me that she stops on the second floor to walk down one of the grand lobby staircases, something I'll probably start doing myself. They make me feel like I should be wearing a ball gown and heading to the opera or something similar.

In his Kill the Messenger tour, Chris Rock says the difference between a job and a career can be boiled down to the amount of time you get for lunch. And I would have to say I totally agree. Working at Claire's (I suppose I can reveal this now, since I am no longer employed), I would be on my feet selling things and straightening things for eight hours at a time and receive a measly 30 minutes to eat something and try to relax. Didn't happen.

By the time you put on your jacket, walk around the corner, go to the sandwich spot, order a sandwich, wait for them to make it, then get on another line to pay for it, 28 minutes have passed. Now you rushing back to work, you're eating your sandwich, you're spilling beer down your shirt. And when you get in, your boss got the nerve to go, "hey, man, you're eight minutes late."

"Fuck YOU!"

Do you realize even criminals in jail get a hour lunch break? Like, can I at least eat like a murderer? I bet if you shot your ass, I could finish this sandwich.

At my new job, not only do I get to eat like a murderer, I have time to eat and then spend 30-40 minutes doing whatever I want. And I can do this whenever I want, which is the most brilliant thing. For a good majority of your life, especially growing up, people constantly tell you when you can eat and for how long. At home, you eat when your parents decide. At school, you eat during your assigned lunch period. Doesn't matter if the cafeteria isn't equipped to handle long lines and you have barely five minutes left by the time you sit down. When that bell rings, you better get up and get out. Granted, in college nobody gave a fuck when I ate or if I did. But my job at food services and my job after college at Claire's, they made damn sure I stuck within that 15 or 30 minute time limit. But not anymore.

Shops in charming Hanover Square.

The location of my office is right in the heart of downtown Syracuse, NY. Despite spending the last four years of my life here, I am rather ashamed to admit that I haven't really gotten to know much of the city beyond the SU campus and its surrounding areas. Of course, I've been downtown - but only to go to one specific place, and always with a general sense of "oh crap, I'm lost". What I have realized in the last week is that Syracuse is quite an extraordinary city, full of nice little parks and gorgeous architecture. I know this city has a lot of history, and I think it would be really fun to use this opportunity to actually discover the places around me.

Because that's how I roll: full nerd. Speaking of nerd, this week I also discovered just how much of one I can be outside of school. Copywriting, it turns out, is largely based on writing skill, grammar skill, and a smidge of marketing. At least, the kind of copywriting I'm doing now. And I can honestly say I have loved every minute of it. There is something simply thrilling about using every brain cell you have to get work done. In a way, it feels to me like spending every day doing exercises in one of my old Language Arts books. And I was the type of kid who did the evens AND the odds, even though the teacher only assigned half. Heck, I have fond memories of our sentence diagramming unit in 8th grade English.

So I guess it makes sense, for now at least, that this is what I'm doing. I don't think it's what I will want to do forever, but I love the opportunity to get a chance to learn and explore something completely new (and yet so familiar), all while getting paid and actually enjoying every day. That, to me, is the most amazing thing: I get to be happy.

I am writing this during my last couple hours of independence. Monday will be two weeks since Terrell left me, though it feels longer considering how much has happened. Though the first week was, as I guessed in my entry on being alone, quite difficult I not only made it through but kind of started to enjoy being on my own. I can go to bed with all the lights off in the apartment now and not fear lurking homicidal maniacs. I can wake up on time at ungodly hours of the morning and get myself to work -- though I did learn a lesson on Tuesday not to try to sleep in and take the 8:03 bus because it likely will arrive at 8:15 instead, thus making me late to work. I can be an independent woman.

But I am deliriously happy that Terrell will be returning to me on Monday. In the meantime, I will have my mother's company from later tonight until Monday morning. Her birthday was yesterday, but since we both worked she decided to come today after resting. It should be fun. I plan on making her take me shopping so I can buy some career clothes, and then tomorrow we'll be heading to the renaissance festival as my birthday gift to her.

It would probably behoove me to stop using the computer, take a shower and dress in something other than pajamas and do some cleaning. The apartment is rather messy, mostly because I haven't spent much time in it the last week. More posts and more pictures to come. I got my camera fixed, and will be taking it with me on lunch whenever possible as I explore downtown Syracuse.

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The good, the bad, and the best

Things I am bad at:

Leaving voicemails
I am a nervous talker, and nothing makes me more nervous than trying to talk to silence. Especially on the phone. I hate the phone, as most of my friends can attest to. I don't like calling people, even those I know and feel comfortable with, because it's just too awkward and weird and oh god, what are their facial expressions? I DON'T KNOW BECAUSE I CAN'T SEE THEM!!!!!!

*ahem* Anyway. Voicemails. I attempt to pretend I'm simply speaking to the person I'm leaving the message for, but that rarely works and instead I end up babbling on and laughing like a crazy person.

Making Decisions
I'm good with, say, bagel or croissant but deciding how to handle tough situations and make the right choices gives me hives and an extreme case of the shakes. I usually try to solve this by going to everyone I know plus a few of their grandmothers for advice, then making a nice pie chart or diagram with my options and finally blindly choosing something that seems like the right thing to do from the lot. Usually things work out in the end, but not until there have been tears and much hair-pulling on my part.

Conflict
Some people are able to say whatever they want to whomever they wish whenever they feel it necessary. Some people can speak up when the person behind them at the movie theater is kicking their seat or talking on their phone. Some people are able to call their landlords and demand action or order pizza without writing out an extremely detailed, word-for-word script. I am not any of these people. So, when faced with the need to confront someone I usually spend more time beforehand trying to figure out what to say and how to say it... and more time afterward fantasizing about what I could have said (but didn't). Or I just try to get out of it through any means possible, including hiding under my covers until it goes away.

Anything to do with math, especially counting money
I am hideous at math. No, really, I am. Long division perplexes me, and I usually have to double-check any addition or multiplication on a calculator just to be sure. I can't add things with more than two digits in my head without major difficulty, and I constantly find myself losing track of anything I'm counting. This is bad when part of my job description requires that I count out two drawers of money at least once per shift, if not twice. And being nervous about doing it wrong doesn't really help matters much, which accounts for why I've had to recount at least two-three times almost every closing shift I've had. Arg. Least favourite part EVER.

Which leads me to things I am good at:

Writing
Ever since I was in third grade and my teacher told me that my story about a trip to the zoo to see the (fake) dinosaurs was good enough to make me an author someday, it has been my goal in life to write for a living. Though I leaned toward the creative, fictiony side of the fence for a few years, I soon progressed to journalism, and finally the technical and academic writing I am so fond of. Though I'm certainly not the best writer of all time, or even a fraction of such a person, I am overall pretty good.

I like taking on the label of writer, and I love that the term "writer" can encompass more than just the traditional creative and journalistic efforts most people think of when they hear it. I love that the people who write the employee training manuals for various companies and the people who write the product descriptions for different companies' online catalogs use just as much creativity and technique as someone writing a poem or a novel or a newspaper article. It isn't often appreciated, but where would we be without the people who instruct us how to use our remotes? Pressing random buttons in increasingly desperate frustration, that's where.

And that love has led me to something quite amazing: a new job!

No longer will I have to pretend I am a retail goddess, bravely marking down items and counting registers badly. Instead, I will be joining the corporate world this Monday as a copywriter at a company smack dab in the middle of downtown Syracuse. I am beyond thrilled!

Because it was such late notice, I was rather nervous about telling my manager at the jewelry boutique, "Um, hi, I can't work for you anymore. Byeeee!" I didn't want to completely leave them in the lurch because, hey, they gave me a job when nobody else would. At the same time, no way I'm passing up an opportunity like this to keep working part-time at a mall. Duh!

So after consulting practically every person I know, I called her and left a simply appalling voicemail, really one of my crowning achievements as far as bad voicemails go. She called back, we talked, and all was well. Despite me shaking like a leaf throughout the entire conversation (and for about twenty minutes after--I told you, I'm not good with confrontation of any sort). I'm going to continue working weekends for the next two weeks and then I am out of there.

And so marks the first real job I've ever quit. All in all, I didn't do too poorly. And I have a new adventure to begin on Monday!

This was supposed to be posted yesterday, but when I came home after spending the day browsing some shops with a friend, I ended up on Mint.com for SIX HOURS being super adult and making myself a budget and goals and what have you. By the time I called it quits on that, I was too tired to put together a comprehensive sentence. Oops!

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At least it's not fast food.

Well, my first day as a working adult is over. Pretty typical stuff: sell things to people, sell as many things as possible, and reorganize the things they knock over in the meantime.

Though I did enjoy my first day, and I know it will be an interesting job, there is a voice in the back of my head telling me "You can do so much better." I'm proud to have gotten a job less than two months after graduation, but I suppose I imagined myself doing something a little more fulfilling than minimum wage retail. Especially coming out of such an amazing work-study job as an editorial assistant for a publishing press. Still, a job is a job and I desperately need one. So I will memorize the hot new fashion trends for tweens and put up with hours of Justin Beiber wailing about his "lover" (cue some serious ick, he's like ten years old).

And really, it could be worse - at least the store is air conditioned. After almost a week of weather in the 90's that is a huge relief! Seven hours in that environment left me totally unprepared for the humid, disgusting world that awaited me past the mall's glass doors. All I can say is thank god for half an uneaten watermelon in the fridge and my bedsheets in the freezer.

I know this is all only temporary, and that the lack of fulfilling jobs is due completely to my location and the economy. But I can't help but feel like I've already failed somehow, in not being able to land something amazingly perfect right away. It's silly, though, and I know when I look back on this I will be proud of myself for serving my allotted time on the lower decks of the flag ship of life (okay, these metaphors are getting out of hand and lacking sense -- I blame exhaustion). I just kind of hope that the next year flies by until it's time to make some real decisions about the future and make my way out into the world.

Blah. There was way more I wanted to say. I think some part of me planned on finding my camera's charger and connecting it to the computer to download and post some of the pictures I took on the fourth of July. That part of me is clearly insane and has gone away to its padded room. And I think I'm going to follow its lead, except I'll just stick to my nice padded bed.

I did only get about 4 hours of sleep last night. Oy.

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And so, the next chapter of my life begins! (Or, I've decided to stop being lazy and start writing about it now.)

52 days, 1 hour, 30 minutes.

That is how long I've been a college graduate. That is also how long I have been unemployed. But as of 1:30PM tomorrow, the latter will no longer be a problem. After weeks of filling out applications, writing cover letters and handing out resumes I have finally found a place in the corporate machine to fit my cog into. Though it isn't exactly what I pictured, the retail position I start tomorrow will provide the most basic necessity of a newly-minted adult: financial security. And I've been hurting for money bad.

52 days of unemployment has brought out a whole range of emotions and experiences for me. The first couple of weeks were bliss. After four years of exams, classes, studying, and work I was more than happy to kick back and do what I wanted... for a while. Then reality set in, at about the same time the final paycheck from my work-study job came in. No more money = many, many more problems. Terrell and I are sharing an apartment now, so my expenses are less than they used to be, but I still have expenses.

As June blazed into existence, I became antsy. More applications were filled out, more cover letters written, more resumes printed and handed out. I called places back only to be told they weren't hiring or would "contact me later". In case anyone reading this doesn't know, the economy kind of SUCKS right now -- something I wasn't prepared for after graduation when I started college four years ago. Graduating was great, a real accomplishment. But the nothingness that I faced along with many of my friends is anything but comforting.

The desperation set in a couple of weeks ago when I finally sat down to complete my student loan exit interview online. They forced me to not only calculate exactly how much debt I have ($50,575.00) but what the estimated monthly payments are. PANIC TIME. Suddenly my education is looking like a waste of time. Suddenly I feel like a waste of space and time and money. How will I ever pay those loans back? How will I make the monthly payments when my income is -$400 a month? Most importantly, how will I ever be able to afford the boxed set edition of Sex and the City?!

But around the middle of June, I finally got two interviews at two vastly different retail stores: Apple and [store name redacted] a jewelry boutique. I interviewed with a store manager at the jewelry boutique on June 22nd, which went extremely well. And then the district manager from the jewelry boutique called me last week on Tuesday, and after a twenty-minute interview she promised I would receive a phone call in the coming days for the final decision. The Apple interview was in a group setting, and I was the only vagina present for that one. Awkwarddddd.

Just as July was setting in with a heavy dose of panic and dreams of faking my own death and escaping to the Bahamas to live on an island and carve celebrity's faces into coconuts for a living, news of two vastly different kinds came.

Monday, I got the dreaded "Thank you for your time but we've decided to pursue other candidates" email from Apple.

Cue a sense of utter defeat. [side note: initially I thought "cue utter defeation" would be good here, but that isn't a word -- however, firefox wanted to insert 'defecation' in its place, which would have made the statement simultaneously hilarious and awful.]

But! Today, as I was preparing to call the jewelry boutique back to figure out what was going on my phone rang. And the heavens opened up and the angels rejoiced and It Was Good. I am no longer unemployed. I have meaning, purpose, and a paycheck! And I get to look good and buy cute jewelry at 50% off while I'm at it.

I had intended to start this blog back up weeks ago and chronicle my job-hunting experience but alas, I was lazy and wasted that opportunity. However, I've been itching to have something to do besides play The Sims and study for the GRE's math portion so the full intent is for this blog to become a habit. I've never been good at keeping to my blogs, so hopefully this one sticks.

Tomorrow, I have to go with Terrell at noon to take my younger brother Dylan to the train station so he can travel back to my mom in Buffalo. And afterward, I will head to the jewelry boutique to begin my retail experience.

Wish me luck!

*edit* So, I learned in my training that I'm not supposed to talk about my store by name online. Because this is my blog and I want to be able to be honest on it, I've removed any references to the place by name and will henceforth refer to it as simply "the jewelry boutique".

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