Life Lessons at 22

I turned 22 last week.  My birthday passed by pretty uneventfully, which is unusual.  My mom usually asks me what I want to do for my birthday three weeks in advance – either a party or some trip or something.  This year, we kept things quiet.  And I’m glad for it.  It has given me time to spend with the people who are really closest to me and reflect on the past year.

I mean, last year was kind of a big year – I turned 21, went on big girl nights out, had my lasts at USD, graduated, and got some work for myself.   When I turned 21, I set out to have the perfect senior year.  I set out to have a job lined up when I got out of school, I wanted to participate in every possible thing that I could before I left school, and I wanted to get some good use out of my youth while I was with my friends (a.k.a. go to clubs and be crazy).

The past year was possibly the craziest year ever – balancing school, work, and going crazy was a lot harder than I thought.  I was angry and upset for a lot of that year because the balance was off.  All of my responsibilities were taking up all of my time, my boyfriend and I were trying the long-distance thing, my parents grew increasingly excited about my graduation as I grew increasingly more nervous and sad – it was all just too crazy.

I’ve been wanting to write about what I learned in the past year, and it’s really hard to come up with just one thing.  While life has settled down a little bit, the crazy isn’t completely gone from my life.  Schedules are similar, but problems are different.  I’m learning new things about myself every day.  I’m learning how to budget my earnings, I’m learning to play the guitar and sing at the same time.

I think the most important thing I’ve learned about myself in the past year is that I can be really hard on myself.  I wanted to do so much last year, but I ended up getting more crazy than I would have liked.  I know that I can achieve anything that I put my mind to and that I can get what I want – I just have to take it slow, be kind to myself, be disciplined, and remember that nothing comes easily.

As my life just begins, I want to remember these things.  There are a lot of goals I want to meet in the next year, in the next five years.  And looking ahead, I know it’s not going to be easy.  All I can do is take it one day at a time.

Why the racism surrounding Miss America 2013 makes me want to cry

Photo Credit: The Indian Express

On Sunday night, Nina Davuluri was crowned Miss America.  She is the first Indian-American woman to win the crown.

This is really something we should be celebrating, right?  Miss America is really honoring the tradition of “The Melting Pot” that it was built on.

However, it was made pretty obvious that our “post-racial America” doesn’t want to share in the celebration.  Buzzfeed posted an article featuring choice Twitter posts bashing Davuluri, a.k.a. Miss New York, after she was crowned Miss America.

Many have things to say about the following:

• The fact that she is not American because she is an “Arab”
• That her win was in bad taste being that it was a few days after the anniversary of 9/11
• “This is America. How can a brown-skinned girl win the “Miss America” pageant?” or “Miss Kansas should have won because she is white and blonde and likes tattoos and shoots guns and that is what America really is.”

First of all, Davuluri is Indian.  The term “Arab” generally refers to people from the Middle East and Northern Africa.  (I looked it up to make sure.  Please tell me if I’m wrong.  Please.)

Second of all, yes, people of a certain ethnic group were responsible for 9/11 tragedy, but, NO, it does not give you the right to equate brown skin with terrorism.  Violence is done by people of all skin colors.

Third of all, EVERY country has  ALL types of people in them.  Why is that?  The world has become globalized.  And why is that?  Because there are opportunities for EVERYONE in many different countries.  Everyone has a right to a dignified life wherever they are (as long as they’re not hurting anybody) and NOBODY deserves to be persecuted simply because they look a certain way.

To sum it up, don’t hate because a brown girl now represents the USA, because surprise, surprise many brown girls who live in and were born in America identify as American.  Not only does hate alienate one girl who is a very talented Bollywood dancer, but also, it alienates many other people who don’t deserve to feel alone in their own country.

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Thanks for reading my rant.  As any type of commentary/critical article has, this probably has a lot of flawed/skewed ways of thinking.  Please note that I’m not an expert, but I have an interest in these kinds of social issues and I definitely appreciate constructive criticisms/continuing dialogue about what I’m saying above.

Hello Again

It’s been about a month since my last post and a lot has happened since then.

1. I went on a NorCal trip with my family.
2. I met up with friends in San Diego and got to hang out with my besties.
3. I spent two weekends in a row with my bf.
4. I started working at my old elementary school for the after school daycare program.
5. My unpaid internship with Noozhawk turned into a paid internship.

Last week was my first week doing both my Noozhawk internship and my daycare job and it has been pretty hectic.

While I had hoped my time between graduation and eventual grad school would be a little more laid-back, this suits me fine.  It allows me to get into the groove of working during regular hours, and it is helping me understand what it means to have a budget.

I still have a lot of processing to do, but for now, it’s Sunday night.  It’s a Harry Potter weekend on ABC Family, I just ate dinner with my parents, and have all the ingredients ready to try out this recipe for double chocolate cheescake cookies.  I’ll let you know how they turn out.

The Perks of Being a Perfectionist

If I don’t say anything in a conversation, it’s because I haven’t thought of the perfect thing to say.  If I spend an hour getting ready for work, it’s not because I need to shower and do my make-up, but it’s because I haven’t chosen the exactly right outfit for the day.  These are just two examples of why I think of myself as a perfectionist.

Truthfully, I’ve never thought of myself this way until recently – I’ve always felt like I was laid-back and go-with-the-flow.  But I really have massive anxiety about making the right decision at the right place at the right time so that things go just the way I want, no matter what the decision is concerning – clothing, career choices, what to eat, etc.

I’m not saying that being a perfectionist is a good or bad thing .  It’s good to be picky at times because I feel like it means that I know exactly what I want.  However, a lot of the time, it makes me even more indecisive because I want to many things.  It’s unrealistic.

My life will never be perfect – I make completely wrong decisions all the time, I am always changing, and things don’t always go as planned.

At this moment, I am thinking that I need to think of every moment as “perfect” – it’s  the perfect time to wear that new dress, it’s the perfect time to keep watching my TV shows,  it’s the perfect time to write, and it’s the perfect time to start something extraordinary.

Put it on Repeat – I Just Need to “Breathe”

For the past few weeks, I’ve been trying so hard to try to do something.  It makes me nervous to not be doing something structured in this post-grad phase of my life.   

I told my mom about these anxieties last week when we went for coffee. About how just sitting on the couch and doing nothing is stressful.  And how it makes me crazy that I am not making money when I have a lot of ground to cover in my loans.

It was hard to look at her as I said these things because I felt my eyes watering and I could see the concern on her face.  But she always has a way of calming me down.

“You don’t have to do anything,” she said.  “You should take this time to do some soul-searching.”

Even though I said I’d be glad to be done college with it and do nothing for a bit in the past, it’s been really hard to stop looking for stuff to do post-grad.  It’s been hard to not think about going back to school and it’s been hard to stop thinking in general about the future.

Since I talked to my mom about this, I’ve been obsessed with this song not only because it’s telling me to slow down, but it’s also telling me to do a little soul-searching.  What I do now isn’t an end-all-be-all.  If I watch television all day or if I get a job today, that doesn’t define what my future holds.  All I can do is take it a step at a time and see what comes next – for now, anyways.

Figuring Out a Direction

Since I graduated from college, I have been trying to figure out what my next move is.  Here’s what I have so far:

1. Get a job (or two if you can)
2. Keep writing – do an internship
3. Pay off loans
4. Grad school

Steps 1 to 3 are easy – I mean that in the most shallow sense.  The direction is clear and I know what  I need to do and that is to apply to any paying job and save, while getting real-life writing experience on the side.  I’ve procured some work in the fall, and am loving my internship with Noozhawk.

However, step four is giving me all kinds of trouble.

I have been seriously contemplating continuing my education beyond college since my junior year, when my parents convinced me that law school would be a good fit for me because of my good reading and writing skills.

Since I started taking Creative Writing at USD, I had thought about getting an MFA in Creative Writing and, more recently, I have contemplated an Master’s degree in Journalsim or Ethnic Studies (or something similar).

Whenever I pitch these latter options to my parents, they always direct me back to law school, and I am always defensive because I don’t particularly want to be a lawyer.

I know that you don’t have to go to law school and then become a lawyer, but isn’t that what you would usually do?   Wouldn’t the payoff of going to law school be to become a lawyer?  Isn’t it more fiscally responsible?  I’ve expressed the desire to become a journalist or publisher before – will law school get me there?  Will law school get me what I want, if I do not want to be a lawyer?

I keep wrestling with these questions and the answer I always get is always this: law school would give me the best chance to be whatever I wanted to be.  Not only would I learn about extremely important social and legal systems within our society, but I’d be able to become a better thinker and do-er.

I keep thinking that my parents and grandparents are excited about my consideration of law school because it makes me sound impressive, but the real reason is that it ensures a lifestyle of success for me.  It doesn’t really guarantee anything, but it is definitely more stable than a Masters in a humanities subject.

So, I guess the ultimate question is this: What am I looking for?  Do  I want stability?  Will law school help me have a future in which I am happy with my career?  I have some sort of idea of what the answer may be, but nothing concrete and nothing close to Step Four.

Can Your Personality Make or Break Your Career Choice?

Since I was a little kid, I’ve always thought myself to be extremely introverted.  I never really liked initiating conversations and awkward silences always came my way when talking with others.

So, in my adventures in journalism, it has been a challenge to talk to people and get a complete story.  I am currently interning for two companies, both of which have given me opportunities to write stories and go to different sites.  One of them is for a non-profit.  It’s not very structured and I have complete freedom to initiate something amazing.  I’ve had a couple of ideas – one to do a series of interviews for the volunteers at the non-profit.  But I haven’t started because whenever I’m on site, it never seems like a great time to interview people.  I’m too nervous to say, “Hey, I’m making this video, would you consider being interviewed right now?” So far, people do not normally react well to having a camera shoved in their face.

In this case,  I feel as though my part is out of place.  My thoughts are these when I’m onsite: I don’t really belong.  My job is to blend in and document the good times that others are having.  My presence cannot interrupt that good time.  So I can’t interrupt and ask questions.

If I am feeling this way, should I keep considering this career?  I have enjoyed writing and taking pictures and everything – it’s been great… except for the one snag.  I don’t enjoy the feeling of being out of place, but I love going to the events and learning new things.  There must be a way to rework this snag.

By Errol Elumir and Manda Whitney, http://debsanderrol.com/

Last week as I was thinking about getting up my courage to ask people questions and do interviews, I saw this chart on Tumblr and rated myself.  I’m more of an introvert, with some extrovert mixed in.  I’ve always thought that as I grew up, I would become more extroverted.  The reality is that I can’t change who I am.  The chart won’t define me indefinitely, but it helps me understand how I think and how others think. It helps me see why I feel stuck in this silent rut.

I keep thinking that I just need to do it.  Just go up to people, introduce myself, ask for an interview, and just do it.  I imagine it and envision it for hours before, and then it all just crashes down.

For now, I’m learning.  I’m learning what to ask people and learning how I work with myself.  I don’t have to be perfect, but just be honest with those I am working with and keep coming up with ideas.  Then, I just need to do it.

Dear Dad

Dear Dad,

Thank you.  You do so much for us.  I cannot imagine how life would have turned out without you in it.

Thank you for being our driver anywhere and everywhere even if I could see your eyelids drooping in the rearview mirror.  Even if I or Mom offered to drive you wouldn’t let us.

Thank you for the nickname Frankerooski.  And for all the nicknames you’ve given to everyone in our family (i.e. Niks the Deeks, Lex the Tex, and other rhymes of the sort). It makes us feel special and loved and part of something.

Thank you for all the movie nights, even when we watched “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” with the traumatizing sex scenes and the traumatizing almost-murder scene and the thrills.

Thank you for teaching me to listen to mom because she’s usually right.  Thanks for teaching me how to take care of my car.  Thanks for teaching me how to properly walk on someone’s back.

Thanks for believing in me and thank you for all of your love.

Real Versus Fake: What Does it Take to be a “Real” Anything?

As I try to break into the field of writing, I have thought a lot about the tools and experience I would need to be a “real writer.”  Real writers seem to spend a lot of alone time.  Real writers have awesome cameras.

After seeing a call for submissions on a local magazine, I thought about writing a piece about Pacific Coast Highway – my boyfriend and I had driven down it the a few weeks ago on our way home from Santa Monica.  It’s beautiful and would be a great subject for writing because of its familiarity and beautiful scenery, but I couldn’t imagine the spread without some great pictures of the water and local tourist traps.

As I imagined myself driving down and taking some great pictures, I thought about the shots I could take, but for some reason, I felt limited by the camera I have.  It’s a Canon Powershot, a digital, point-and-shoot camera.  I received it as a gift from my parents on Christmas a few years ago after I expressed the desire for a camera.  They bought it specifically because it takes great close-up shots – I was really into taking pictures of flowers at the time.  It takes really crisp, clean shots and is a great little camera, except for a couple of things.  It’s a bit on the heavy side and I feel as though the lighting is off a lot of the time (which might or might not be a camera issue).

However, when I think of “real photographers,” I think of people with DSLR cameras who know about shutter speed and aperture and lighting and Photoshop stuff.  One of the things I thought I needed to be a journalist was a good camera and maybe more photography experience.  I have always wanted to take a photography class, so I looked into taking a class at city college during the summer so I could get my bearings.  I even shopped Craigslist ads for DSLR cameras.  In my mind, to be a real photographer, I had to get a camera with a real shutter.

I called someone who was selling a Canon Rebel and talked to him about potentially interning for his event photography business.  It seemed sketchy – I called him about a camera, he started asking invasive questions about why I wanted the camera, and then he was directing me to a website about his business.  I still wanted to do it anyways.  It meant doing “real photography” and becoming more than an amateur.

My mom was really worried – not just because it seemed like a total stranger was looking to take advantage of my naiveté, but also because it seemed like I was jumping at any chance with some desperation.

“Just take it easy,” she said.  “You have plenty of time to get where you want to be.  You don’t have to resort to Craigslist.”

And she was right.  In just the last two days, I’ve gotten the opportunity to take loads of pictures through my current internships.  And I’ve done just fine with the camera that I have.

In my last post, and even the one before that, I have talked about taking risks and slowing down. It’s clearly not easy for me.  I still have that vision, that goal, and I am hell-bent on achieving it.  I’m desperate, even.  I’m slowly learning that It’s not really about the tools that I have, but the experience that I am gaining.

So, I don’t need a new camera – it would be great to get one.  But, my parents bought my camera for me to take pictures with because they knew I had an interest in taking pictures and they thought I had an eye for it.  Just this alone gives me the opportunity to be a real photographer.  I’m not going to say that I am a real photographer – I don’t think I’m even close to it.  What I can do is take that belief that my parents had (and hopefully still have) in me and use it to add it into my life’s work.

I’ve got a lot under my belt – I just took some pictures at a fancy charity event, and I’ve got the support of my family and friends.  I don’t need to be a real journalist with a real camera and everything else.  It’s actually more simple than I ever imagined.  I just need to do my job with the tools that I have.

The Summer Before the Rest of my Life

Last week, I delved into the job hunt.  Here are the numbers so far:

• It’s been 7 days.
• I have emailed 12 people about potential jobs and internships and submitted 3 job applications.
• In response, I have gotten 4 phone calls and 2 emails.
• I have driven 180 miles for a job interview in Santa Monica.
• I have 1 internship interview lined up for this week and am waiting for 1 callback.

Currently, I have volunteered to be a social media intern for Girls Rock SB and a cantor at a local parish.  On top of this, I recently had a job interview in which the interviewer informed me that there would be a training period of 6 months in New Jersey.  It’s kind of exactly what I wanted.  I’d be able to move to somewhere new, living in a small apartment somewhere, and learn how to take care of myself.  It could complete one of my scenarios.

But as I think about the possibility of moving to New Jersey, my recent interview experience with a rude Craigslist employer, my recent commitments here with Girls Rock and church, and my plans for the summertime, I start to feel very overwhelmed.  I feel as though I am trying to move 100 miles and hour while summertime requires a slower rate of speed.  In 7 days, I have been in contact with six different people so that I could build up my summer schedule, not including friends and family.  I have made promised to two organizations for my time, and a lot of plans with friends for summer plans.  There’s lots to do, and what if I have to move to New Jersey next week?  What will happen to those commitments and plans?

In the past 7 days, I have learned a lot already.  I have learned that I need to live out each day with every intention to succeed.  I have learned that there is a great pasta place just a bit out of Downtown Santa Monica.  I have also learned that good things come to those who wait and to those who seek those things.

These commitments and plans are fleeting opportunities, and I need to grab them whenever I can – whether that be a career opportunity or a fun opportunity.  This summer is full of possibility and all plans never go the way I see them going – I just need to keep waiting and looking for those things.