Writing

Are you there God? It’s me, the mess…

I think the majority of my anxiety about the future of my career (and life) stems from the belief that I do not have a valuable skill set. I went to school for communication. That’s too broad to have gained a skill set worth anything. I worked in newspaper advertising for 3 years (which is practically defunct) and just now started working in digital advertising. My skill set here is based solely on other people’s impressions and and whatever the fuck an eCPV is. I feel like I’ve learned nothing to be able to make it on my own. Yes, I can make a media plan, but how does that help my future?? I feel useless and directionless, like a broken compass. 

I like writing. I enjoy being able to express my emotions through words on paper rather than words out loud. When I speak my mind, it doesn’t make sense. Words come out jumbled, tripping over each other in a race past my tongue. They trample one another in order to reach the listeners ears and end up in a pile on the floor. But when I write, I can edit. I’m able to map out feelings and thoughts. They flow like a river, slow in some areas, racing quickly in others, careening toward the ocean that is a page. It’s comforting knowing that I have this outlet.

However the comfort doesn’t always last. So here I stand, surrounded by piles of helpless words. Watching the world pass me by, doing nothing to halt it, even long enough to jump into the motion. 

Do I believe in God? Yes, I suppose so. But do I believe He has a plan for me and this life? No. Rather, I believe He is watching, waiting for me to make up my mind. He sits in his chair, preparing to judge the future I create for myself. But neither of us know or understand how this will work. All I can guess is that the feeling I get in my gut every time I realize I have no real plan for the next few years of my life is not somethings He is familiar with.

Or maybe He is. I guess I’ll never know.

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I think I’m lost

Since starting a new job four weeks ago, a lot of my free time (not that I have much) has been spent panicking over my future. 

  • What will I do? 
  • Where do I go from here? 
  • How will I support myself as an adult? 
  • Do I really want to continue on this road?
  • Where does this road even lead?
  • Was this a mistake?
  • Why did I leave my old job?
  • Am I smart enough to be here?
  • Do I even know what I’m doing??

At any given moment, these and countless other extremely frightening  questions can be found swimming through my head, drowning any thought of happiness  or contentment. My brain swells with thoughts that threaten to keep me awake at night, staring into the dark abyss, uncomfortably aware that I might never make anything of myself. Of course I can’t begin getting comfortable at this new place. Everything is wrong. I’m not smart enough to be here. I’m not smart enough to be anywhere! I’m useless and talentless. There is nothing more disheartening then realizing that you are mediocre, that you possess no unique talents, and that there are plenty of other people who can do exactly what you do, only way fucking better. 

So then, the question becomes how does one make it through this unscathed? Or at least in one piece… Can I get better? I can take classes. I can go back to school. But do I really way to spend all my money for a masters degree in something I probably won’t like in 3 years? Could I even make it through the program? How much does a master degree cost? Would I be able to budget my time accordingly? I can’t commit to this… What if I don’t like it and don’t want to do it after a few days? Do universities offer refunds? This is way too much for me. 

My mind feels like a WWE wrestling match. Right now, any form of delight I might have had over now working in Soho, or living at my summer house, or even the God damn weather, is getting beaten to a pulp with a folding chair in the corner of the ring, with its head lolling lower and lower and it’s nose bleeding profusely. I can’t tell if I’m frustrated about not having a general direction to run in, or if I’m completely terrified of it.

Having a goal would help tremendously. But as you can see, I’m goal-less. The way I see it, I’m basically spitting in the wind, hoping it won’t come back and hit me in the face. But I know it will. Your career doesn’t seem like the kind of thing you want to follow the current with, if that makes sense. This is not a “go with the flow” kind of situation. I can’t just see where the stream takes me. Unless I’m wrong. And while it is highly probable that I am wrong, I’m still pretty damn screwed, possibly more then originally anticipated. Because if your career is something that you want to lift your feet for and follow the current, I might not be able to relinquish control long enough to. I like to pretend that I’m spontaneous and adventurous, but if I’m being serious here, the most spontaneous thing I’ve done all week was stop to get gas this morning on my way to work when my gas light when on earlier than anticipated.

So what do I do?

Do I spend the money, go back to school and hate the masters I’m only a quarter of the way through with? 

Do I try and stick with the current plan and work to be an advertising sales representative, even though I know full well that I’d be the worst salesperson in the whole universe? Or do I just quit, steal a cardboard box and sleep on the beach in Breezy Point for the rest of my life?

I have no fucking clue. Maybe I need a life coach.

I think I just had some weird existential crisis in the park…

I don’t know where my brain was going with this. But I suddenly feel so old. Not like an adult, just very old.

So, I’m walking through Union Square after picking up the book I put on hold at Barnes & Noble (I may have been influenced by my new shoes and will let you know how I feel once I read it) and there are dozens of high school boys in their ugly colored uniforms walking around with clip boards. It kind of looked like they were doing a scavenger hunt or something. But as I passed a particularly large group I noticed that none of them noticed me. In any normal day I would have been more than happy to have gone unnoticed, but today, with annoying ex-boyfriends who might be considered alumni to the high school flitting through my overworked brain, I think I may have been offended? A few years ago I would probably have gotten a few looks from the 17 year old boys standing in a crowd by the lilac stall… but today, in my oversized aviators and one-size-too-big leather jacket, I was just another lady carrying an apple. Don’t misunderstand, I don’t want to attract 17 year old boys, but am I not attractive to 17 year old boys anymore? Do the hormone crazed teens passing me not noticing my butt even realize that just a few short years ago they might have thought something obscene as I passed?

But then again, I’m probably completely overthinking this. I should just chalk these thoughts up to not enough water and an irregular sleeping pattern. Maybe it’s because the ex-boyfriend implied above (or whatever he can be called) burst onto the scene with a Facebook request about a week ago after like, half a decade of absolutely no communication. Maybe this can be blamed on some weird bout of post menstrual syndrome?

All I know is that these thoughts are completely unwarranted and if I would have just called out sick this morning, I could have avoided this annoying feeling in my gut that makes me want to contact ex boyfriends and see how they’re doing.

Also, it doesn’t help that my boyfriend is totally great and is coming with me and my family to Utah tomorrow for a communion.

I’m just going to pretend that this has everything to do with my not wanting to turn 25. Because when I was 16 and that ex was a lot of what I thought about, I was convinced that by 25 I would have my life figured out, that I would have a badass job and be on my way to a chapel with wedding bells tolling and a Marine on my arm. I still love Marines, but other than that, things change. I barely make enough money to support a myself, let alone a family. My job is probably the furthest thing from “badass.” I don’t consider myself anything close to an adult. I just keep buying shoes and hoping that they’ll eventually make me feel like a real person. That, or at least make me look like I have my shit together. Because at the end of the day, that’s all I can really ask for.

Well I kind of have good news

I haven’t been fired yet. And from what I understand, the New York office is here to stay so unless I screw up a whole lot, I may just be able to stay.

That little heart attack last week wasn’t exactly fun but it did it’s job; as long as its intended job was to stress me out. Because if that’s the case, it succeeded with flying colors.

Some other nice news is that I might be contributing writer for a legit website. Like a real one. With actual readers. And writers that aren’t just me. I’m not sure how I feel about the website yet because I’m only allowed to write “listicles.” But As long as they publish my writing I’ll be ok.

I’m going to be published!

…kinda

We are about to get kinda personal…

Tomorrow, my friends who were freshman when I was a junior in college will be graduating. 

Tonight is their last official night as college students. Once they proudly walk across that stage they will be expected to be full functioning adults. People will ask them where they will be working and whether they have a 401k. They’ll need to know how to do taxes and maybe they’ll move out of their parents’ house and get a place of their own. 

But tonight, they’re still kids. And I hope to God that they realize that.

I remember the night before I graduated. It was a mess. I drank too much. I hung out on the beach in clothes that were not made for that kind of breeze. I almost jumped into the ocean but thought better of it. I helped pass around a watermelon flavored joint, but didn’t smoke it – I guess I’ve never been the pot smoking type, but that night I almost pretended I was. I kissed a boy I didn’t care about while sitting on his bed, just in case I never got the chance to again. I didn’t get home until it was almost time to wake up. I barely slept, I ate Chinese food and drank champagne from the bottle through a straw in bed. I told my roommates how much I loved them. I squeezed out every last ounce of college that I could.

The next day I became an adult, not a very good one, I might add, but an adult in everyone’s eyes. I skipped across that stage like I had won the lotto. I had done it, I had graduated college. Sure, it’s a pretty normal thing for most people, but fuck them, I was excited. I had done it all on my own and I was proud. I had done stupid things during my 4 years there but nothing I regretted. And it was all done with. My cap said “never give up” in black and silver sparkles, and I knew I hadn’t. 

The day I graduated college was a whirlwind of unnecessary emotions, but that was two years ago. But now I kinda want it back. 

Selfie stick syndrome

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It seems like everyone has started a “selfie sticks are lame” club and have banded together to actually agree on something for once in my lifetime. They think selfie sticks need to go.

But honestly, y’all don’t understand.

The first time I ever even saw a selfie stick was overseas (obviously.) It was the summer of 2008. The Italian National Soccer Team was in the World Cup and I was headed straight to the MotherLand.

The summer after my junior year of high school my mom packed up my siblings and me and squished us into an 8 hour Alitalia flight to Italy. We spent two and a half weeks there, visiting my mother’s sister, who lived in Rome with her husband and infant son, and my cousins, great aunts and uncles, and great-great aunts and uncles who all still live in the small town my family is from in southern Italy. While we were in Rome, my mom was the perfect tour guide, waking us up at 8am and leading a very tired group of children under the age of 16 (and adults, since my mom’s brother, his wife, and his toddler came with us) to every site worth seeing in La Citá Eterna! (read this in the Ungermeyer’s voice)

I believe it was day 2, as we frolicked around the Coliseum, my sisters and I saw an Asian tourist taking a picture of herself with the ruins. Now, I’m not talking about snapping a selfie with the front view camera on your iPhone 6+ here people; remember, this was 2008. This woman had her digital camera attached to a giant metal stick,  pointed at herself and was smiling into the sun… it was something people were gonna noticed. Finally, we got close enough to see what is now known around the world as “the selfie stick.” When I first saw it though, it was just kinda strange looking.

Now fast forward to the end 2014; my boyfriend and I are again frolicking through the same Citá, except this time around everyone has a selfie stick. I literally mean almost everyone I saw was carrying a giant metal stick around, from little kids to old people. It was like an epidemic. The men on the street were selling them for as little as 5€. But it was completely awesome. Do you realize how much background you can get into a picture with a selfie stick??? The entire world is your backwards oyster people! 

I’ve seen what people can accomplish with this thing, and because of it, I have seen the future. Ok, maybe not, but it is still a really amazing tool, allowing you to extend the reach of your photo by double or triple. I don’t see the selfie stick as a tool of narcissism, I see it as a tool of creation, a tool of pure magic, man; and if people can’t see that, they’re too far inside the box. Imagine the pictures people could take where selfie sticks have been banned. Music festivals have completely shitted on the idea, huge tourist attractions are hating hard, even sporting events are starting to freak out.

Ok sure, maybe they’re a little dangerous to be swinging around, but if you can look at these pictures, these works of fucking art, and tell me that the selfie stick is bad, you and I have very different definitions of what is wrong with our society.selfie16Screen-Shot-2014-12-28-at-093352alex-chacon-600-day-world-adventure-gopro QTqUZ0o 1409046069213_wps_14_skyscraper_selfie_kids_Crtopselfie enhanced-15757-1405451063-32

Also here are some more INSANE selfies that were only made possible because of a stick. check out this link for MOREEEEEEEEEEE.

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My anxiety has been through the roof

I suck.

I haven’t written in so long. I miss writing. I obviously miss writing here, but I also miss writing for a reason. I sometimes feel like I’m talking to an empty room and it can be really disheartening.

But I’ve also been extremely anxious lately. I have trouble concentrating on almost everything I do and its been pretty difficult to write about anything. I started two or three posts in the last two weeks that were thrown out after sitting in a Microsoft Word doc for 8 hours.

The only thing I’ve been able to concentrate on lately is reading. In the last three weeks I have read all five books of the Percy Jackson & the Olympians series and the first three books of the five books in The Heroes of Olympus series, all by Rick Riordan. They’re all under the YA (young adult) umbrella, which is totally cool in my book. I never understood why someone would be embarrassed about reading a book labeled “young adult.” I’m just proud of you for reading dude.

My anxiety has also helped me not procrastinate, which makes things slightly easier.

The first friend I made in college (besides my roommate) is getting married in September. But instead of getting married in a normal place, she is getting married at the camp where her and her fiancé met… which means I’m taking a trip up to the middle of nowheresville, Maine. Its going to be very expensive but should also be very cute. My best friend/roommate is coming with, so we’ve turned it into a girls weekend. We plan on flying up the night before, staying in a darling little bed and breakfast, eating as many homemade cookies as the hostess can make, and making sure our heels don’t sink in the mud.

I know our plan because I spent my morning creating an itinerary in excel. I’ve already found flights and booked our room. I plan on buying the tickets for the flights tomorrow and spending the rest of my week looking for a taxi service that doesn’t charge extra for a ride into the sticks of Maine. Hopefully we aren’t forced to rent a car. Neither of us are 25 and from what I’ve heard, that’s the minimum age. I don’t have the sort of patience convincing a random person to let me rent a car would take. So I’m hoping to avoid it completely.

Luckily for me, I will also be flying into Florida later in the week to celebrate Easter with my family. I’m hoping a few days in the sun will help me chill out, mainly because I am not used to being this anxious or productive. Its terrifying (the anxiety, the productivity is actually kinda nice.)

Also, my eating habits have been really reallllly terrible lately, which is probably not helping the anxiety. I’m hoping to curb that by the time next Monday rolls around… or it’ll be me rolling around, and I would rather not.

Well… wish me luck.