Category Archives: Story of My Life

The 23 Clock vs. Foster The People (Or, Why Success Is A Stupid Idea)

So here it is.

I’m a week away from my 23rd birthday. My “golden birthday,” no less. So really this is my last chance to over-celebrate a birthday before I start calling them “the big something-0.”

Since the average good-citizen person graduates college at 22, I haven’t felt much pressure to have my life together up to this point. Sure, I felt the You Are Smart and the You Are Talented and the You Are Racking Up Lots of Student Debt, but those were more incentives to overachieve. I had high school English teacher’s pet IN THE BAG, so why should the rest of my life be any different?

I know when you reach a certain point in life they can say about you that “the clock is ticking.” What is this clock? When does it start ticking? Does Father Time take bribes?

I think for me personally the clock is going to start ticking in six-and-a-half days when I no longer have matching double-digits. Twenty-three just SOUNDS older. Twenty-two is “aww, you have so much potential!” and twenty-three is “so…what are you doing?”

In a week I’ll suddenly have to think about my eggs drying up and my hair falling out and whether I’ll have a real “career” and whether anyone will EVER REALLY LOVE ME. For now it’s okay for me to go to Coachella and have Netflix marathons and be eating microwave garlic shrimp spring rolls at 1am. But then I need to get serious.

After this week, I won’t be getting any younger.

I’ve spent so much time trying to figure out what I should focus on in life to be most successful. Trying to find the “niche” that I can fill and devote all my time, energy and self-promotion to–since I’m not a classically trained musician or anything straightforward like that. Most of the reason I haven’t written in this blog more is because I’m embarrassed that it doesn’t have a single agenda, like cooking or something. It’s like I don’t have a goal. How very cute and 22-ish of me.

Really though, the world isn’t going to care much what I “do with my life.” Not any more than they remember my Facebook statuses for more than two minutes. Which is sad to realize for a few seconds, and then completely freeing and awesome.

So, with this year, I think I’m going to focus on having good community with people. Which means things like making rent and making lunch and making time. Things that I will have to keep working at for years and years. Which is handy, because years and years are exactly what I’ve (probably) got. But really, if I can do what I need to do to foster good relationships all around, how could I possibly not be a successful person?

Happy Birthday to little old me.

duck and cover.

As a rule, I think cover letters are tedious and stupid. Mostly because I can’t stand writing something specifically for a company with 95% confidence that they’ll barely glance at it unless they like my resume. Even though the point of the cover letter was to make the resume look better.
It’s also because I have problems going halfway on these things. Five generic sentences? Not happening.

I'd also rather use words ironically.

Here’s an example of what happens when I write a cover letter.
(Job in question = junior copywriter for fashion website.)

“Dear [Company],

Why would I want to work for you?

It’s simple. As a twenty-something living the dream in Los Angeles, like so many other people, I worry about whether or not I’m making a statement. Additionally, I worry whether the statement is something like “eww, gross.” I know I’m not alone in this.

Fashion sites offer a “stop, look and listen” service to the public. They tell the wanderers on the Internet to STOP thinking they can wear sweatpants everywhere, LOOK at what else they could be wearing, and–here’s where I come in–LISTEN to why not being frumpy is a worthwhile investment.

As someone who has run the gamut of skinny/fat, popular/unpopular, fashionable/not fashionable, I get it. Sure, confidence isn’t something external–it’s a decision you make. But so are the clothes you wear. So why not make good decisions all around?

If given the opportunity, I look forward to helping your company help all of the other dreamer-girls like me make good choices.

Cheers.”

leaving the kids’ table.

And now, finally, my first post from adult life.

I’ve been done with college for five weeks, a member of the workforce for four. I had another birthday and finally got a California driver’s license. The photo, as per DMV usual, looks like I’m a crystal meth addict.

So…how is post-grad?

When I was growing up, I thought adults had the lame end of the stick. The kids got to run around and have fun, while the parents watched and picked up after us. If they had a free moment, all they did was cook or clean or sit around talking.

Now I think I’m starting to get it. The kids were the ones missing out.

Whether wandering the Santa Monica pier, people-watching in Hollywood bars, or sitting around a secondhand kitchen table, the conversations and explorations that have happened in the last month have been fantastic. I have a solid group of friends, and I wouldn’t trade the memories I have with them for all of the coffee in Columbia.
As grownups, we have the ability to soak up the richness of our days in a way kids can’t.

Ping pong, the pool, and people. A recipe for YES PLEASE.

I thought leaving college would be depressing…I liked school. But now that I’m out where the people are, I’ve realized that there are so many things to do. It was all well and good to have everyone I knew living within the same square mile, but now we go places. We cook, and it usually works. We have jam sessions around bonfires. We talk about things like career paths and churches and skinny dipping. We make spontaneous plans.

I’m working on a script that’ll be filmed in Brazil, researching web startups, writing for a communal blog, and contemplating moving to NYC. Because I can, and I haven’t before.

I’m still getting a grip on being officially grown up. As my brilliant friend Annie put it, “I have an existential crisis every other day.”

But I’ve figured out this much:

There will always be books I haven’t read, songs I haven’t heard, and conversations I haven’t had yet. There will always be more things to try.

Life is sweet.

the times they are a-crazy.

So, contrary to popular belief (in my own head), I’m actually going to graduate college.

Who knew the papers ended eventually?

I also just got an email from the guy who was the DP (that’s Director of Photography for all of you non-filmies out there) on THOR. Even though it was a three-word message confirming that he got my memo about the production meeting, I still feel slightly like the coolest person ever. Aaaaand I get to meet him today at said meeting.

I honestly was a lot more worried about graduation last year, when everybody had big plans and no one had to follow through on them yet. I’m probably going to be miserably poor for the next couple of years, but it’ll work out.

In the meantime, time to work for legit people for free some more in hopes that they’ll hire me before I have to start paying my loans back.

love is the coal that makes this train roll.

I just stumbled across my dad’s LinkedIn profile and teared up. I guess I miss home.

Also, do yourself a favor and listen to The Black Keys when you have a free moment.
The fact that you’re reading this post means that you have a free moment. Go.

Bask in the knowledge that The White Stripes breaking up isn’t the end of the world.

(This is one of those times when a fan video is actually remotely clever. Though pointless.)

Thanks to a solid university education, I have successfully managed to become too much of a multi-faceted person to tie myself down to just one occupation.

Use that line the next time someone asks if you have a job lined up for June. Cheers.

learning how to build with mental blocks.

Sometimes I legitimately think I have a mental handicap. One of those cool mental handicaps that people who are otherwise geniuses have, of course. But still a handicap.

There are just days when I know that there is ONE THING to finish that will make my life 50x more relaxed when I’m done with it…so I spend the entire day working very diligently on everything except that thing. For no apparent reason.

“But wait,” you say. “That’s not a handicap, that’s run-of-the-mill procrastination.”

First off, I didn’t give you permission to interrupt my blog post. Geez.

Secondly, I beg to differ: this is more than just procrastination–it’s a more bizarre, beastly, fantastically-warped thing. Like that guy with the eyeball hands in Pan’s Labyrinth.
I get really weirded out by it (and him). Why wouldn’t I want to make life easier for myself?

The best solution I’ve come to is that I’m a deadline junkie. I thrive on knowing I only have ten minutes to submit a paper…which is making being a part-time student hard, since so many of the deadlines are self-imposed.
Which is why my new iTouch and I need to do some scheduling.


I bet he could teach me a thing or two about the iTouch. Get it? Eye-touch? Forget it…

choir robes and last first days.

carol didn’t use her safety goggles. now she doesn’t need them.

Remind me to tell you about how I got thrown off a golf cart at work.

Sometime when it’s not three in the morning.