Oh, Hey There!

Why, yes, it has been a while.  I took the month of December off, not intentionally, but still, it was a nice break.  So here's an update on what you've missed from your darling little ol' Eugene:

The holidays went by way too fast and I feel like I barely saw the smatterings of family members who were able to venture back to our beloved Ocean State.  I did manage to find the time to make yet another successful Plum Pudding (a rather disgusting but still entertaining holiday tradition, and perhaps an upcoming addition to the Tasty Tuesday section?).

There are a few reviews we have in the works (bath and beauty products, mostly) and we're also in the process of convincing a couple guest bloggers to share their wisdom and hilarity.  I'm hoping to bring in a crafting expert (you guys would not believe what this girl comes up with, it's unreal), and a social commentator with the wit and humor rivaling the geniuses you see on the celebrity roasts.

My grad school application is coming along nicely, thank you very much.  The personal essay is kind of kicking my butt.  It's hard to condense something into 300 words when there's no limits or specifications, and you just have free range to write whatever your little heart desires.  I have everything else lined up, though, so at least I'm making progress.  My GRE scores have been sent, I've ordered my transcripts, I have my letters of recommendation organized, and the rest of the application is entirely filled out.  It's just a matter of putting the finishing touches on that essay and then, ya know, actually sending the application in.  Fingers crossed by this time next year, I will be a graduate student.



The Patriots are doing ok; not great, but ok.  Really wish their first halves were played a lot better.  My nerves can't take much more of this second half comeback thing.  But they're still winning, so I guess there's not much to complain about.

We got the chance to video chat with my brother on Christmas and it was really good to see him.  Picture, if you will, a Macbook being carried around a house so that each member of the 20-person strong family could say hi.  He looks good, excited about his upcoming trip, and God knows we're excited for him.  Only my brother would travel the Trans-Siberian railroad backwards, starting in China and heading towards Russia...in the winter.  But he's supposed to get a really good view of the Northern Lights, so that should be exciting.  Can't wait to see pictures of that!

My personal life is a lot happier, so that's a nice change.  We all know I usually do not go into much detail on that part of my life, so let's just leave it by saying Eugene is very happy with what the universe has brought her way (you know it's good when the third person narrative is used).

And that, kids, is where we're going to end things today.  I promise to post the Plum Pudding recipe next week (complete with pictures because I know you love the visuals).

Stay tuned!

QUESTION OF THE DAY: Did you actually make New Year's Resolutions this year or did you just continue with your life as usual because everyone knows if you make a resolution, it only lasts about a week?

Finding the Funny in the Unfunny

Sometimes, you just have to laugh. Life, in all its ups and downs (the latter featuring more prominently as of late), is so outrageously unfair that it borders on the ridiculous, so you just can't help but laugh. Maybe this laugh is immediately followed by a cry, but still, you're laughing, and that's a good thing.

I've found myself wallowing in the negative lately and am scrambling to push my way back into the positive. I've had some serious battles in the past to find my happiness and I won't go back without a fight. One of the biggest lessons I had to learn was to be aware of when I felt myself slipping into what my parents have affectionately called the "dark place." The past week has definitely been a challenge, but I'm proud to say I'm finding the humor in my humorless circumstances. Of course I haven't heard about that full-time job that I applied to three months ago, because naturally, the person in charge of hiring someone has gone on vacation the day before I submitted my resume. Yup, that would happen.

Rather than retreating into a darkened room with chocolate and tequila, I'm going for walks on the beach with my cousin and her four month old puppy (legit, one of the most adorable digging puppies I've seen in FOREVER). Instead of removing myself from society and ignoring my friends when they ask me to join them for a weekend fiesta, I put on my cutest sombrero and shout, "Ole!" I can joke about how I've needed a planner now more than I did when I actually had a job (it's the truth, you should see my months-at-a-glance, nutso).

Instead of dwelling on the unnerving ratio of resumes-submitted to response calls-received, I laugh hysterically with my Nana after she asks if I can take her to the "Calrus and the Warpenter" as opposed to the "Walrus and the Carpenter." I jokingly give my Popi a high five when he tells me he didn't fall today. You just have to laugh because, quite frankly, the alternative just isn't all that appealing.

You Got the Job...Now What?

For the past 11 months (and something weeks), I've been struggling. I left a decent job because I wanted something different; I wanted to actually use my degree and step out of the reception shadows and into the sunlit roads of editorial land. To bide my time in between scouring the state (and surrounding areas) for employment, I baked. Muffins, cakes, pies, cookies, you name it, I made it. It was my release from the stress and disheartening reality that despite my delightfully charming demeanor, nobody wanted to hire me. Nobody wanted to hire anybody. Suffice it to say, the recession was kicking my ass. But by the grace of whatever deity you believe in, I now find myself employed, in a bakery of all places. And while normal people would be uncontrollably releasing bodily fluids during fits of pure excitement, I'm downing Pepto Bismal to stave off the nausea.

I spent four years working towards a degree in English so I could work in the editorial world. After graduation (and months of menial office work), I finally landed my first REAL job writing greeting cards for an brand new company. It took me just over six months to realize I did not belong stuck in the middle of the greeting card stacks. Too much rhyme and bland rhythm for me, but I still appreciate the value of their existence in my life (most of my friends receive cards on a semi-regular basis). I moved on to the nearest job available: enter the restaurant industry. This was quickly followed by another few months of menial office and reception work. Nothing too exciting, but I did manage to make a few new friends along the way. All the while, I kept sending out resumes, hoping for the leap into editorial to appear. But in the back of my head, I kept thinking about baking and the joy of pastry arts. I'd joke about opening my own bakery, what I would name it, what I would serve, how it would be decorated. I'd toy with the idea of going to pastry school, spending a semester abroad studying chocolate from the best in the world (Vive la France!). But something would come along and derail these musings, reality would come back into the mix, and the bakery slid back into the mist.

These past 11 months (and something weeks), I've wondered if my inability to procure gainful employment in the editorial world was not a testament to the continuing failure of the economy but a sign from the universe, urging me to actually pursue that lark of a dream resting in the pastry business. Through the magic of connections (because let's face it, it's all who you know), I walked into a local bakery a hopeful young woman, and came out an employee who starts her first day on Thursday. But what if I don't like it? What if this lingering dream I have of working in the baking and pastry arts field turns out to be a nightmare? Then what? The people I met with today, the owner and my manager, were nothing short of wonderful. Tough, hearty folk who appreciate a hard day's work, but still amiable and friendly. But what if this doesn't work out? There is more on the line than just employment this time.

Until those questions are answered, I take deep breaths, and hope for the best. Keep those fingers crossed people. We're nowhere near done.

How Much Coffee Have You Had??

A direct quote from my mother around 7:30pm last night. I popped over to the folks' house for dinner and I swear I could not stop talking. It was like I'd had four cups of coffee in twenty minutes. I was that peppy. Now, anyone who knows me has a first-hand experience of my perkiness. I can't help it. I'm generally a perky person. But recently, it's started to overflow. Maybe it's the lack of daily human interaction, so any sort of face-to-face conversation is over-stimulating, but I'm beginning to feel it's my excitement taking over. The funny part was that I actually hadn't had any caffeine at all, and my parents said it reminded them of me as a little kid. My dad even jokingly stated they used to stand over my crib and repeat, "No pep. No pep."

Within the last week and a half, I've made the decision to go back to school and taken active steps to pursue that goal. I've started studying for the GRE's, which I'll be taking in October, I've requested copies of my transcript from MCLA, where I got my undergrad degree, and I've contacted three of my favorite professors for reference letters. As of yesterday, all three professors have confirmed they'll write my letters, I've finally gotten the hang of some of the math I've forgotten over the past eight years, and I've made the executive decision of where I want to go professionally. Suffice it to say, I'm feeling pretty good.

While the lack of income right now is somewhat disheartening, I'm finding the notion of returning to academia overpowers that negativity. Journalism was a valiant effort and a novel dream, but I can't avoid the fact that I really hate interviewing people about topics I couldn't care less about. And while my customer service skills are pretty rocking, I have no desire to continue my career in secretarial and administrative assistant arenas. I like writing. I enjoy writing. One thing I love even more, however, is proofreading other people's works and making necessary changes and corrections. I had the opportunity to actually edit a book headed to print when I worked for US Sailing. Nothing major, it was just a reprint of an old edition, but it was still my job to make sure everything translated into the newer fonts and formatting. It didn't, and the high I got from presenting my the errors to my supervisor and the sense of power I felt from being able to correct it was beyond amazing. This leads me to the decision to go into Publishing. After doing research (and watching "The Proposal"), most of the editors and higher-ups have advanced degrees in literature. Enter Rhode Island College's Masters in English program.

I'm fully aware that most of the major publishing houses are in New York, and while the idea of moving to NYC isn't exactly thrilling, the notion of pursuing something that excites me trumps that. My goal is to take the GREs in October, send in my application for admission by November and begin my pursuit for the Master's degree in the fall of 2011. It's game on, biznatches.

Queen of the Unfinished

A friend of mine has joined the bloggosphere in her quest for healthy living. She asked her friends and family for feedback and encouraged us to share our stories, and it got me thinking. She has always been one to take on a challenge and see it through to the end, even through hardship and frustration and the most unthinkable odds. She finishes. Which is why I know she can accomplish this monumental goal she has set for herself. And it made me wonder if I had the same conviction and determination that she does. Maybe it's the circumstances that enable my defeatist side to win out over my optimism, but after much reflection and self-evaluation, I'm sad to say that I don't.

From the time I was 4 years old until just after freshman year of high school, I played soccer. I loved it and I was good at it. Not great, and god knows it was not natural talent, but I could hold my own. During one game, a girl on the opposing team decided she could try to get the ball from me, missed the ball entirely and got my knee instead. It hurt. I recovered, but my knee still gives out now and then. The next season, when it came time for try-outs, I decided I was done. There was too much drama behind the scenes that took away the fun of the game. Girls would enlist their mothers to hound the coaches if they didn't start every game. If the school issued punishment for whatever reason, it extended to the soccer field as well. You break the rules, you miss a game. The girls would, again, employ their parents to find a way around these rules. It wasn't worth it to me to fight through all the bullshit just to play a game of soccer. So I stopped.

Once senior year rolled around, I went on the traditional college tour circuit. I saw campus after campus, but fell in love with one tiny college in the Berkshires, the Massachusetts College of Liberal Arts. I didn't apply to any other college. I didn't apply to any "safety schools" or schools that I would probably not be accepted to, I only applied to one. While I don't regret the choice that I made because that college introduced me to some of the best people I have ever met, gave me an opportunity to flourish on my own, not in my brother's shadow, I do wonder if I could have gotten into any other school. But I never tried. I stopped.

Looking back on this blog, there are at lease seven entries that only have a paragraph written, and I can't for the life of me figure out what point I was trying to make. With titles as vague as "Justification is Your Enemy," and "You're Leaving Me for an Ugly Girl," and even one without any title at all, I solidify my reign as the queen of the unfinished. I have at least four book ideas that I started and never finished. I have twenty different ideas for small businesses and have never followed up. I stopped.

I am just within reach of a job that actually means something to me. I went to school to write, not answer phones. It's right there. I just need one interview. Just one. Just the chance to show them that not only am I a good candidate, but I'm the best candidate. I'm the best person for this job. I want to be in this industry, I want to have a byline, and see my name on a masthead. I want to spend hours figuring out the right spacing for an article and adjust the layout until it's beyond perfect. Here's my opportunity to be as brave and confident as my friend. To take on something that will challenge me and push me to my limits. I just need the chance to show them (and myself) that I can do it.