Reality

Today, reality slapped me in the face. Without getting into too much detail, I saw first hand how shitty some people have to live. They’ve been dealt some horrible cards in life, and for them, not much hope exists. The first chance I got, I called my mom tonight to thank her for the wonderful childhood I had.

Sure, it wasn’t perfect but it was a childhood some kids only can dream about. Food was always on the table. I fell asleep each night in a warm bed and woke up each morning to take a hot shower and put on fresh clothes. My dad never hit my mom or my brothers and I. My parents are still together and are both healthy along with my brothers who are both currently pursuing degrees. I learned to read, write, do arithmetic and eventually got a college education. I got my first car at 14, my first cell phone at 15 and have a closet full of clothes. I’ve been to four different countries and have seen each coastline. I have wonderful friends to turn to each day. I’ve got a job that I love and that takes care of my bills. I can see, hear, talk, walk, hug someone, love someone. To some, what I have isn’t a lot, but to others it’s more than enough. Please remember that any time you think life is unfair. No matter who much I complain about things, my life probably looks pretty great to someone else and it’s my goal to appreciate these blessings with each breath I take.

Fall

In some of my posts, I rag on Brookings pretty hard. Truth is, Brookings is a wonderful community with some wonderful attributes. One of my favorite things about this little town is fall. Growing up in a river valley, there weren't many trees around. When I came here, fall brought an entire different color palette.

Here are a few photos I snapped today at McCrory Gardens. Enjoy.

The 24th revolution

Today, I’m 24. It doesn’t seem like much time has passed since I wrote about being 23, but events in my life say otherwise. Now single with a different job in a different state, my future appears to be cloggier than ever before. Still, on this 10th day of October, I can say that I am truly happy.

Birthdays are usually a weird time for me. In the days leading up to my day, I am usually depressed by the thoughts and reflection that comes with turning a year older. Usually, my bad attitude comes from wishing for what I don’t have. Then, my birthday comes and I’m reminded that I have all that I need. I don’t need gifts or parties to have a good birthday, just a few simple “Happy Birthdays” from family and friends.

This year has been a bit different. All week long, a wide smile has taken up residence on my face. I get up in the morning, look in the mirror and giggle. It’s almost as if I was hooked up to an IV of joy throughout the night. At work, I smile and greet people. The bliss continues on when I put on my street clothes for the evening. I can still feel it when I say my nightly prayer and thank God for this life.

Today, I woke up dancing and singing. I went for a run before eating a chocolate breakfast, putting on the eye makeup I save for special occasions and going to work for a mere three hours. Now, I am writing at my favorite coffee shop before doing some shopping for my party tonight. Running, writing, friends, family – all of my favorite things rolled into one day. I can’t ask for more.

I can’t help wonder where this happiness has come from. It’s more than a birthday, it’s a birth week. Maybe it’s the affects of two long weeks at work. Maybe it’s me fulfilling my promise to God to live in the moment. Or maybe it’s me allowing myself to be happy.

For once in my life, I feel like I am truly going with the flow. I don’t seem to be envious or sadden with each engagement or baby announcement anymore. Instead, I smile and remember my time will come when it’s right. Till then, I’ll just work on loving me. Each day, I think about a new city I could move to. Instead of hitting the web looking for jobs in that area, I remind myself things will figure themselves out and soon I’ll know where I am supposed to be. And the big to-go-back-to-school-or-not-debacle takes a new turn each day. Instead of fretting about what I am going to do, I take it one step at a time, knowing I will feel the right answer at the right time.

This new laid-approach to life is invigorating. All the worry and stress is left in God’s hands, where it is meant to be. One thing that I love about birthday is they are a beginning, a chance to make a change. I hope to make the 24th year the one that I learned to let go and just live.

To predict where I’ll be and what’ll be doing when 25 comes is foolish and boring. I honestly have no idea, and that is what makes it fun. All I know is that I am a very blessed woman with great family, friends, job and life. There isn’t much else to ask for and all that is left is just to embrace. I’m sure they’ll be tears in the next 12 months, but also a lot of fun and laughs. Next year, I want to be able to look back at 24 and say “That was fun, and I did the best I could.” All I want is to be the best person I can.

I’ve been worried about turning 24, it sounds so much older than 23 and older is not what you want to be in a town that is forever 21. But if my day as 24-year-old is any indication what the rest of the year will be like, and I think it is, it will be one good year.
Here’s to my next trip around the sun.

My dream jobs

When I was in kindergarten, Mrs. Tenyck asked everyone in the class what they wanted to be when they grow up. My friend Heather (yes, I realize we have the same name) said she wanted to be a cop, just like her dad. Chris, another child of a cop, wanted to be like his dad too. Not me. Not fully understanding what my father did, a journalist did, I declared that I wanted to be an actress. At the ripe age of 6, I liked the idea of pretending to be someone else.

A few years later, about third grade, my ambitions of being an actress died. Knowing I would probably fail in Hollywood, I decided that I wanted to be a teacher, like my aunt Mary Jo, who lives in California. I liked school and the idea of bossing other people around. It seemed to be a reasonable, yet secure, profession.

In middle school, my career attentions turned toward psychology. I liked studying people and their behaviors. The little bit of psychology education I had was enough to convince me I should go into the profession. My grandmother said our family would be great practice. It wasn’t until recently that I realized how right she was.

Then, as a 17-year-old, I found my calling – journalism. At the encouragement of my father, I began writing for the school newspaper. I fell in love immediately and decided that I wanted to be like my father after all. I can guess that I was probably one of a few high school juniors who had their major picked out before they chose the university they would receive that education from. In college, I decided that was a blessing.

In college, my journalism professors would ask us what our career goals were. Mine changed every semester. Answers ranged from a metro newspaper reporter, a magazine writer, a media lawyer, a publicist, a public relations specialist for a non-profit, a copy writer for an ad agency and metro newspaper reporter.

If you’re a follower of this blog, you know the story. After seven months as a newspaper woman, I realized I hated it. Now, I use my journalistic skills in a different way, one that makes me happier. As a frequent reader, you also know that I am struggling to define the next stage of my life. The options are there, just not very many decisions.

To try and reach some of those decisions, I’ve been looking at my current list of dreams jobs and how to get there. Nope, an actress, psychologist and teacher don’t make the list. But I think the creativity and human interaction in each of those professions is something I am looking for.

For today, these are the jobs I would like to do when I grow up:

The guy from the Kleenex commercials
I adore the Kleenex commercials where a guy pulls a big blue couch on to a sidewalk of some busy sitting. With a Kleenex box in hand, he invites people to sit down and just chat. They tell him their life stories. They laugh. They cry. They reveal all that is beautiful about the human spirit. As long as I knew my bills were covered, I would do this gig for free. I love people. I love hearing their stories and watching their emotions unfold. I enjoy uncovering what makes them tick. If I could switch jobs with anyone just for a day, it would be the Kleenex guy.

Carrie Bradshaw’s Job
I’ve been watching a lot of Sex and the City lately and am envious of Carrie Bradshaw, the lead character. Not so much for the gorgeous men she dates or the fabulous clothes she wears, but for her incredible job. In the show, she has a weekly column where she writes about relationships and their meaning. I understand that this is a television show and she probably couldn’t afford all those designer shoes on her salary and she probably didn’t just fall into the job, but I could write about relationships any day. Relationships fascinate me, platonic or romantic. I read pretty much anything about relationships and enjoy analyzing them with my friends for hours. I’m even working on blog about a certain type of guy (look for that post later. I am currently conducting research.) So, yeah, I could do that job.

Reviving Charles Kuralt’s Dream
I was pretty young when I first saw Charles Kuralt’s segment “On the Road Again” on CBS’s “Sunday Morning.” Charles believed that every town and every person had a story to tell. So, he threw a dart at a map and found that place to tell that story. Since I first saw him on TV, I wanted to do just that. Charles drove the country by RV and highways only. He didn’t believe in the Interstate because the real beauty was along back roads. This nation is full of interesting, remarkable people and I want to tell their story. Sometimes, I feel like I should have done this right out of college. I then tell myself it might have to wait until retirement or when my bank account explodes. Still, this dream is in the top portion of my buck list. Sounds like a pretty good book, if I say so myself.

So those are my dream jobs. Maybe I will land one of those gigs or maybe I’ll find something that similar. But in the end, my ultimate dream job is one that makes me happy. If I can find that, I guess there isn’t much else to ask for.

Kieara

My favorite photo of Kieara and I. This is from our spring break trip to Dominican Republic.


Here are 10 things you should know about Kieara Robinson (She is sitting beside me right now and has NO idea that I am writing a blog post about her. Sneaky, I'm aware.)

10. Her hair naturally forms a side pony. This is a talent that I wish my hair possessed.

9. Her mother wouldn’t let her go to Girl Scouts. Do not bring this up; it’s a very touchy subject. Nonetheless, she knows how to camp, cook and sew without ever wearing the green uniform. I think she turned out OK.

8. She has a weird obsession for Maroon 5’s “If I Never See Your Face Again.” It’s her current ring tone.

7. Her favorite movie is “You’ve Got Mail.”

6. She is from Vernon, Vermont. She knows how to draw maple from a tree and seems to have the same tin can of maple syrup since she moved to South Dakota.

5. Her middle name is Janece. It’s really fun to say her whole name, with emphasis on the “JA-nece.”

4. She used to be a dancer. From time to time, you can catch her frolicking in my living room.

3. In elementary school, she was on a jump roping team. Probably the main reason I became friends with her.

2. She doesn’t have a king-sized bed, or even a queen. She has a full-sized bed for very specific reasons.

1. She thought I was super annoying when she first met me. Now, she can’t get enough of me.

Kieara, you are now officially on my blog.