Grand Realization

So I'm a noob.  To this blogging thing, anyway.  All right, that's a lie.  I used to blog on Xanga years ago with my misadventures in baby-sitting, but then I quit my gig and therefore didn't need to vent about the horrible woman I was working for any longer.

Anyway.  I tend to say 'anyway' a lot.  I hope that won't be a problem.  Or distracting.  Of course now that I said something about it, that's going to be distracting.

Anyway.  Today I was talking with my dear friend Allie about LAUD (my own shortened form of 'Life After UD'--life after college).  LAUD is coming up, and much too fast.  I'm going to be a senior this coming year, and I'm terrified about my prospects as far as the 'after-life' of college goes.

It seems that half the people we know at school (Allie included) are taking the GRE this summer, fully intent on going to graduate school right after we, well, graduate.

I found myself in a similar state a few weeks ago.  I was PMSing like crazy, got super depressed, and was on my way to the mall for retail therapy (okay, just buying a pair of requisite khaki pants for my CVS uniform) when I accidentally missed the turn-lane to merge onto the correct highway.  I happened upon (well, I knew it was there, truth be told) a Barnes and Noble.  I parked, went in, and made a beeline for the testing books section.  Before I scarcely knew what I was doing, I had gotten to the front registers and was purchasing the Princeton Review's guide to the new 2012 GRE.  For a stint, that made me feel better.  As if, that were my grand purpose, you know?  My plan.  A plan.

Went to the mall, tried on about twenty pairs of pants until I found a viable option for work, and looked at myself in the dressing room mirror.  I seriously didn't know that girl in the mirror, with the bags under her eyes, and the gross-looking hair (if there's one physical feature I'll claim any worthiness to it's my hair.  It's a naturally-straight smattering of gold, red, and brown strands, and I've never done anything to it--usually it behaves with conditioner and I'll have a decent hair day), and the flushed cheeks.

God, I can't tell a story without never-ending tangents.

Basically, I looked like a wet dog.  It was disgusting.  So, feeling sorry for myself, I indulged at the Steak and Shake in the food court.  Felt kind of pathetic, just hanging around the mall by my lonesome...it's not fun to go there yourself, really, even though in theory it seems it would be.

I got home in about an hour and announced my GRE book purchase to my parents.  They were a bit surprised, if I recall correctly, and wondered, 'well, what are you going to do if you go to grad school?  Do you really want to go?  Or is it just a way to put off deciding, because you're going to have to have a pretty good reason to go to school more?'

Fair enough, of course.

I practically broke down.  I just didn't have an answer, and it had been bothering me for so long, that I didn't have an answer (and still don't).  So Dad sat me down and helped me list my options.  I don't want to teach anymore, so that limited the list.  The list pretty much consists of technical writing, editing, and...oh wait, that's it.

For a couple months now I've been saying, 'oh, yeah, I want to go into publishing' when people ask.  And everyone asks.  I'm going into my last year of school, for crying out loud.  I just wanted to PICK something, you know?  And yeah, I kind of like editing.  Enough to make it my career?  Sure.

So it's not what I want.  What I 'want' isn't something you can simply say you're going to go out and do.  It's one of those things you just have to be practical about, what you're going to pursue.  You have to aspire to an attainable goal, don't you?

I've always thought so.  Ever since my grandpa had my dad show me Parade magazine's annual income issue, wherein they give examples of different salaries for different people in different occupations in different parts of the country.  And see who makes what.  It was a way of showing me that what I want to do is impractical, so I have to go to school and learn to do something else.  Well, I didn't necessarily do that.  I learned to do what I want to do, and while this blog post may not be a great example of what I can do...

I want to write.  Desperately.  And I don't just want to write.  I do write, a lot.  I've written enough to fill volumes.  Fiction, mostly.  I haven't finished a novel yet, but I've halfway finished a few different ones.

And I need to write.  I need it sometimes like I need oxygen.  I am aware of the sheer corny nature of that statement, but its corniness (poetic license much?) doesn't make it any less true.

Anyway.

Christine out.

PS: Well, there you go, Allie.