Well, this is terrifying!

I have no idea what I’m doing but here goes!  My first blog post, ahhhhhh! Well, why am I doing this?  Because I love writing.  I’m 35 years old and I’m tired of just existing.  I want to do things that are going to make me happy and writing makes me happy.  I, actually, went to college for Print Journalism but I dropped out after three semesters, go me!  Realistically, it’s probably the best thing I’ve ever done because I had no clue which way was up or down at that point.  To be honest, I still don’t.  I wish I could have been one of those people who knew exactly what they wanted to do when I graduated high school but that was not the case.  Clearly, I had some idea that I wanted to write but, at the time, I thought I would be writing articles for Cosmo or something which, now, just feels so freaking cheesy I’m rolling my eyes at myself so you don’t have to.  I had no idea, however, that my first Journalism professor (who also wound up being my academic adviser) and I would, seriously, butt heads.  First of all, a book he wrote was the book he used to teach the class.  He tried to make us all feel better about that by telling us, first class, that he only got $1 for each book sold and if we felt like he was just trying to profit that we could ask him and he would give us the $1.  Now, obviously, no one was going to do this so I’m assuming, at the very least, he made about $200/semester off of that book but that doesn’t even pay for my bi-weekly groceries so it’s neither here nor there.  It did, for whatever reason, leave a bad taste in my mouth and gave me an, initial, negative opinion about him.  We often argued in class.  Not in an obnoxious out-of-context way but during discussions on journalism where he would encourage open debate.

Taking a Political Science class was part of the Print Journalism curriculum and I couldn’t have hated it more.  I’ve never been into politics and, at the time, had no interest in exploring them.  When I went to speak to my, aforementioned, academic adviser about that, amongst other things, he looked me dead in the eye and as matter-of-factly as he could said, “You have no business being a print journalism major.”  Verbatim, that’s what he said to me.  I will never forget that moment.  I don’t remember what I said, or didn’t say, or how I reacted other than my eyes filling with tears as I walked back to my dorm room that day.  Just now, as I write this, I’m realizing that may have been the turning point, early on, when I completely gave up on being in college.  I started sleeping in, skipping classes, eating large portions of shitty food all day long, smoking weed and drinking constantly.  The girl who school came easy to, who got good grades, who was in the Gifted & Talented program prior to this experience basically allowed herself to almost fail out of school before coming home and crying to her parents that they should just let her drop out.  And they did.

“What would you do if you weren’t afraid?” – Spencer Johnson, Who Moved My Cheese?



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