Making it This Far

I am sad today.

Since I’ve moved to Tallahassee three months ago, I have made it to the “final round” of interviews for three mid-level Communication Specialist, Communication Coordinator, and Marketing Coordinator jobs. Each time, I have been called in for a second (or third) interview with the President/CEO. Each time, it has come down to 2-3 people, and they each told me at that final interview,

“First of all, Congratulations for making it this far!” (…before going on about the number of qualified applicants and how much it means to be called in for another interview.)

Each time, I have come home feeling confident and excited, and each time I have received a follow-up phone call telling me that, unfortunately,

“We’ve decided to offer the job to another candidate.”

 …It has been an emotional and humbling experience. Continue reading “Making it This Far”


Why did I want to move to Tallahassee? Two reasons.

1. Bretski
2. Manatees

I love manatees more than your average vegetarian hippie animal lover. I LOVE them. And I never miss a chance to see them in captivity, but my dreamiest dream has been to visit them in the wild. As soon as I heard that you could get a glimpse of one of these babies down here near the gulf, I have been researching boat tours like it’s my job.

In all my searching, I found the most perfect little piece of real life jungle cruise heaven: Wakula Springs. I love everything about this place beginning with the name, including the old time ice cream soda refreshment shoppe, and ending with this little token of hope:

So we signed up for this boat tour and I tried NOT to get my I’m-going-to-see-a-Manatee-today hopes up. I was content with the little turtles and gators and serene wildlife as pictured below:

But then.

It happened.

Manatee!…and…baby manatee!

Of all places, they were snuggled up next to my side of the boat and these perfect uninjured babies living safely and happily ever after in this majestic state park brought tears to my eyes. Literally.

Dream come true. I’m going to love living here.

The Granola Incident

On Sunday night I cut my heel. No big deal. I thought I stepped on a particularly pointy piece of granola since it’s the only thing I could find on the floor. I soaked my heel in hydrogen peroxide, rubbed some Neosporin, and put a little Hello Kitty band-aid on it. Healed? Basically.

It hurt pretty badly, so went to Urgent Care after work, but they had a two hour wait, so I left. I just had a paper cut on my heel. From a piece of granola. It’s fine.

I usually bus, metro, and walk 10 minutes to work. I balanced on one foot on the metro and took the shuttle form the metro to my office this week to avoid excessive walking. I couldn’t really put any weight on my heel, but I assumed that’s because, you know, cuts are sensitive. I got dinner with a couple friends, trekked over to Yogi Berry, loaded my car up with some furniture.

Five days went by. I was still limping around. Still hydrogen peroxide-ing. Still oozing… oozing? Gross. Infection. Continue reading “The Granola Incident”

Prancer Sighting in Washington, DC

I have some exciting news!!!

Today, I discovered a portal between the Arlington Cemetery metro platform and THE NORTH POLE!!! Don’t believe me? Read on.

I was riding the metro to work. Unlike the lame tourists (and sensible professionals) who take a seat or hold on to the metro rails, I have learned how to stand still in the middle of the car where I can brace my legs and balance like a surfer. I’m really proud of this new skill and brag about it frequently. Important to note: to keep my balance, upon entering a station, I usually look out the windows for a stationary point of reference instead of keeping my glance straight ahead. Continue reading “Prancer Sighting in Washington, DC”

Some things I cry about

The last several weeks have been busy and while that’s no excuse for avoiding my blog… this is: I have a lot of negative thoughts going on. While many of these thoughts involve classic life-altering dilemmas that lots of soon-to-be grads worry about, others are too raw and too personal to make a headline in a blogpost.

Which leaves me thinking… what topics are too private for a blog? I’m realizing it is not the topic but how comfortable the writer is associating herself with the topic that gives it permission to be shared. It’s only those thoughts that we’re afraid to admit that we deem too personal, and it’s not until you get a thought into words that it becomes an extension of yourself. Before it’s verbalized or written, it’s still inside of you. Safely.

Continue reading “Some things I cry about”

Would you like to feed a squirrel?

First, this title makes me think of the movie, Rat Race, and the YOU — SHOULD — HAVE — BOUGHT — A — SQUIRREL scene. That movie cracks me up.

Moving on.

I don’t know how many people my age are lucky enough to have senior citizens for neighbors, but it is truly a gift. My next door neighbors are the kindest people I interact with in a typical day. He is pushing 75, let’s call him Jack, and spends most of his time reading the paper, animal watching, and people watching. In addition to caring for their own lawn, Jack volunteers to cut everyone’s grass on our block every week and knocks on my door when I accidentally leave my car lights on. She is also in her 70’s, let’s call her Diane, and works “part-time” at Walmart every single day. Diane also maintains a BEAUTIFUL garden and keeps offering to help me start one. I really should take her up on it. Both of them offer pleasant conversation and a break from my busy schedule whenever I need it. Continue reading “Would you like to feed a squirrel?”

You will never see me again, and you don’t owe me anything.

I gave up coffee for lent. I slipped a few times on those early mornings touring NYC and apartment-hunting in Boston, but I (basically) lived for six weeks without it.
So, today: I start my Easter morning with a cup of black coffee. Something you should know: I always drink straight, black coffee. Unless its 90 degrees outside and I’m craving an iced coffee. Anyway, I spend Easter Sunday driving all over Virginia with my boyfriend to visit my family and his family, and then we arrive back in Harrisonburg around 8pm on Sunday night. I feel exhausted and moderately overwhelmed with the amount of work I have to do before Monday, so when we pull up to the gas pump, I run inside to buy a coffee to get me through the night, not expecting any life-changing events to occur.

Continue reading “You will never see me again, and you don’t owe me anything.”