Midlife Crisis

One day I just kind of woke up and writing wasn't fun anymore.  Every story assignment seems like work. The excitement and conviction I used to have is gone.  I thought I was stuck in a rut, but I'm really having trouble getting out of it.

So I am now looking at potential new directions for my life.  Here's me thinking "out loud," if you will.

• Old goal: be a journalist.  Run around, travel, write. A noble profession, providing an important service to the masses. Be such a good journalist that get promoted to editor, be such a good editor and leader that I get promoted up the line.  Start own magazine, top secret idea.
• Old goal revisited: be a columnist.  Writing stuff like this is still something I like to do, but it's harder then it used to be.  I'm quite opinionated and like to share my opinion with others.
• Old goal revisited: law school.   
• Potential new goal #1: to be a photographer/photojournalist.  Since writing isn't enjoyable at the moment, I thought about what I do like - taking pictures.  Unfortunately, I don't think I have enough natural talent to make it.  But hope to take some photo classes soon to see.
• Potential new goal #2: I don't know how to accurately describe it, but to be a multimedia person or designer.  To not only do the layouts of print publications (that's still fun), but work on their websites with interactive features.  Combining images with facts with words with sounds.
• Potential new goal #3: to be a documentarian.  I came upon this realization about an hour ago.  Something I still enjoy about being a journalist is finding the story.  And in doing research, I get frustrated or worried that I am not capturing people's stories, thoughts, feelings accurately.  While this might be a comment on my writing ability, I 'm going to ignore that and decide that I just wish that people could tell their own story.  I feel that documentarian or similar occupations would be comparable to writing an in-depth, feature story or expose for a print publication. I don't want to be on regular deadlines, writing an article after only talking to people for a day.  I want more time to dig deeper and find the whole story.  Of course, Stephanie asks, "Where would you be employed?" "Um... employed?" I respond blinking.  What a silly question.  It's just that she doesn't want me living in her backyard in a box.  Of course I'd be fine living at home with my mommy, but Tatiana thinks that somehow that would mean we couldn't go for coffee together...
• Potential new goal # 4: switch to Public Relations, or even Advertising.  But as I discussed with Kelsi, these jobs don't appear as "noble" in my altruistic, idealistic dreams of writing wrongs with words.  I hate money so I would suck at the business aspect.  I also hate making nice with people so I would suck at networking.
• Potential new goal #5: Screw it all and switch to something totally unrelated.  But what?  I can't really imagine doing anything with my life. As much as I enjoy biology, I suck at math, thus eliminating potential science careers.  I'm already studying a lot of French and political science, but I wouldn't know what to do with those.

Right now, I feel like I've been thrown into the center a giant body of water.  I'm forced to sink or swim, but I don't know in which to direction to swim.  I'm jealous of those people who seem to bob along on a magical current towards their future.  I can't seem to just let go and float too.  Please somebody throw me a lifesaver because I'm tired of treading water and it's getting cold and lonely out here in the open sea of uncertainty.

Poor xanga, all neglected.

Ok, so I'm a college kid now.  And... it's not as bad as I thought.

Actually, I'm barely homesick.  That first day was spent fighting back tears, but then, I fell into a groove.  So much so, that going home threw off my groove.  I woke up that Saturday of Labor Day weekend and thought, "where am I?"  Forget the fact that it had been my bedroom for seven years, two weeks away at college and I was ruined.  And I kept referring to college as "home."  So if school is home, what does that make home?  A conundrum I have yet to solve. When my parents come to school and are in my dorm room, it stresses me and I can't wait for them to leave.  Another puzzle. I talk to my mommy all the time, but for some reason, I guess college is my space and I like it to stay that way.

I can't, however, accept the fact that college is permanent.  This is not a camp that I'll leave and return to high school.  However, I'm not missing stuff back home.  Which, in a way, is good because that must mean I have no regrets. High school was good to me, but it's over now. As temporary and as surreal and college sometimes feels, it fits and I don't see high school suiting me anymore. Although,I have to make a conscious effort to not refer to Olympia for high school as "my school."  Because, now I am supposedly apart of the Gator Nation and my school actually wins athletic events.  I have yet to witness these sporting miracles, but maybe someday.  Hopefully two weeks from now.  

 I also cannot wrap my mind around the fact that my friends - who aren't at UF - are at college.  I think it's because the first week or so, out-of-staters and others weren't at school or in class yet.  But I continuously see people that remind me of friends at other educational institutions and I have to remind myself that Melanie is in Texas, Elyse is in Tallahassee, Amelia is in Rhode Island, Sammy is in Tampa, etc. Random people I see in classes I compare to old friends, classmates, and teachers.

But and it's insanely hot here so they're drenched in sweat, but stains are a pain. I have new appreciation for my mama.  Chocolate-peanut butter Ben and Jerry's does NOT want to come out of my white shorts. 

So right now I'm facing my other challenge of college - procrastination.  I'm actually not too horrible about it, but because I'm already so busy, I can always think of things I would rather be doing than homework. But   I do enjoy most of my classes.  They're not too challenging (knock on wood).  I think it's time to hit the books before I head off to class... again.

What parents and family members should do when you're preparing for college:

• tell you that they'll miss you
• tell you that everything will be ok
• be really patient and understanding
• pass on any advise they acquired either from their own experience or one they have heard/read
• help you shop for and stock up on necessary dorm and college supplies

What parents and family members should not do when you're preparing for college:

• frequently remind you how much better their life will be once you're gone (house will be cleaner, quieter, etc)
• constantly and annoyingly count down the days until you leave
• persuade you to buy/not buy things for your dorm, although you feel the opposite
• put you down for your anti-football sentiments
• tease, taunt or otherwise harangue you
• make the situation more worse than it already is

Apparently I am the only kid in the world who does NOT want to go to college. And my mother keeps blaming herself for my behavior.  She also used to blame herself when my sister and I didn't get along.  But somethings can't be helped.  She keeps asking if I would be doing all of this if I were going to GW. Well, there's no football team there so I wouldn't be whining about sports. But otherwise, I would still be upset about leaving, loosing my privacy, being stuck in a new place, having to do my own laundry, being surrounded my strangers, missing my dog, having to deal with classes and school stuff AGAIN (I am so sick of school, I really don't want to go back. I've got plenty of other things to do. Graduation screws with your head, man.), switching from windows to Vista, having to spend time outside, packing and moving and dozens of other college transition things that piss me off or otherwise upset me. And I am so over having people ask me if I'm excited or ready. I try to be polite and shyly explain my feelings (of course, they're expecting to hear a heartfelt "yes!!! thank God, yes!!!") so sometimes I lie or downplay it.

And, since my sister was oh-so-kind to remind, the doomsday clock is set at one week and one day.

This morning I had THE strangest experience.  I woke up, opened my eyes and felt a hand near my head.  I realized it was mine and moved it.  But it was completely limp.  I sat up and my lower arm just spun on my elbow, my wrist and fingers so limp and lifeless. I had barely any control and everything just flopped along.  I couldn't flex my fingers or do anything other then watch my fingers hang and arm twist in ways I didn't know it could do.  I was terrified until the blood started to come back and a familiar pain prickled through my arm, waking up my sleeping limb.  I was not dreaming.

I spent much of last night playing with a Danish 4-year-old. Had she spoke English, I probably would have been like, "Yeah, whatever you small child."  But the language barrier presented a challenge, a puzzle - plus I was kind of bored.  First, we started off by her dancing with a ginormous Gonzo and I danced back, much to my sister and friend's entertainment. Then Victoria dragged me all over the house pointing at things so I could tell her the English word. And then she incorporated me into her pillow sculptures. Her few words of English are all Disney related - "High Schoo Moosicale," an attempt to sing "We're all in this together," "Mickey Mouse," "Donald Duck," "Minnie Mouse," "Daisy Duck."  However, in Denmark, Goofy sounds like Figmoond - which I took as Figment. She also knew "cool," "lamp," and "care bear."  I was repeatedly shouting to my mom "I loved it" (she was discussing the Blue Man Group with someone) and Victoria started mocking me. I showed her the chicken dance and "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes" and she got a kick out of that because she had heard them in Rhodes (Greece) last year.  The whole experience made me think of Stephanie and Melanie because its the kind of thing they would do - Melanie and Chloe, for instance.

Currently Reading Mountains Beyond Mountains: The Quest of Dr. Paul Farmer, a Man Who Would Cure the World By Tracy Kidder see related

So I did it.  I finally bought an iPod.  It's black - videos don't come in green.  I can't listen to it yet because I'm waiting for my laptop to be delievered to upload anything so I don't have to transfer music. The box has Jack Sparrow on the cover :)  I guess come holidays I could use iTunes gift cards now. If I can only figure out how to download music... But the guy at Best Buy was warning me against viruses that effect iPods only (not computers, anyway) that come from over the internet.

I also used up the last of the gift cards I got for graduation. I've been having to do other college related shopping - I still need, among other things, a lamp, a robe, shoes, and an iHome - other iPod accessories may have to wait.

'Finished the 7th Harry Potter book this week.  It started off sort of slow and dull but the end was worth it, I would say.  I was emotionally effected by the deaths of some characters than I was of others - no actually tears, though.  The epilogue wasn't awesome, but I guess the extra information she may publish will satisfty my curiousity.