Obligatory Birthday Post

I ate so much more than a cupcake. I ate Arby's and a McDonald's milkshake and funfetti cake with orange icing, bbq chicken, cheese curls, and beer...lots of beer.

I "allegedly" have not spent my birthday at home with my parents in 11 years. I don't know if the math is correct but what I do know is that is has been a long time. The past few birthdays have been great. Four years ago I went to a Mexican restaurant with some coworkers and then we all got mani-pedis. The following year I went with my friend Anne to a Phillies game. Last year I went with my friend David to a Phillies game and did the whole name in lights thing again except this time I was calm enough to take my picture on the jumbotron. The past two years I also went to Ray's Happy Birthday Bar to get my free birthday shot.

Something was different this year. I had no friends. I know that sounds really sad and pathetic but it is actually pretty true. My work best friend just moved to Georgia the weekend of my birthday. A few friends stopped talking to me for whatever reason. David and I hung out LAST weekend for our traditional Crabfest. Most of my work friends have quit and moved away.

Instead of day drinking and spending way to much money online shopping I decided to, two weeks in advance, to rent a car and drive to the the ESVA for my birthday. I had parents so I could at least be thankful for that. It turned out to be one of the best decisions I ever made. I was distracted from my sadness with good food, plenty of laughs, a few movies and this 500 piece jigsaw puzzle I quickly got addicted to. At one point it actually felt like my life's mission was to complete that puzzle. I didn't before I left, but I got nearly half of it done. It was cathartic.

Not to mention I got to drive a lot, which I love doing. My parents and I drove out on my birthday evening to watch this breathtaking sunset.

All in all it was a delightful birthday and I was grateful to be surrounded by people.

Now it is back to the grind. Getting up in the morning takes gargantuan effort. I'm adjusting to all the new people that are at work and bracing myself for the next resignation (we had a surprise one today). Prayers and such I can begin a journalism/writing career somewhere soon. I feel my best friend's absence here. There is an emptiness she left behind.

Clear eyes. Full Hearts. Can't Lose. Or something like that. May 27 bring good luck and the change I so desperately need.

Until next time...

Loss and Change

Tomorrow marks one of my best friend's last day at work. She just so happens to work at the same place I do. It is going to be a rough Friday.

My department has seen a 30% turnover in the past few months. We've lost key players who have direct contact with our clients. We've onboarded some new people too. Basically the whole agency feels like it is in a state of flux. It is a weird feeling. Like, I've been on the same island and now we have a ton of different types of trees that were not there before. Same place, different foliage. Now I just have to get used to it.

I've seen some not so great days. Between losing my best friend/support/comfort and watching many friends move away/move on with their lives...I feel stuck. Quicksand stuck. Watching everyone move on while I stay rooted in the same spot. It is tough. I'm doing everything I possibly can to move up or move on as well, but I'm not so lucky.

I've been doing the same thing for five years. I've been running the same programs, completing the same assessments, filling out the same paperwork and attending the same meetings. I feel like I'm just going to be this empty shell next week and beyond. A body, performing functions without emotions. I've been "yesing" everyone and everything to death. "Mary Anna, can you babysit for this meeting?" Yes. "Mary Anna, are you ok with having back to back meetings so we can accommodate a new member to this team every third Monday?" Yes. "Mary Anna, you're going to be doing x, y, z, right?" Yes.Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.

Whatever.

I'm not sure how much longer I'm going to last. People laugh and tell me that is nonsense. That it can't be THAT bad. That thank the good Lord above I have a job. But I'm serious. I'm just going to snap or be dead inside.

Not going up. Not going down. Just going sideways.

Until next time...

The Downside of Being a Late Bloomer

After I graduated college, I applied to a year-long volunteer program in Philadelphia. I spent abut 11 months, working for free, gaining "real world" experience and establishing myself at my place of work. After the year was up I was hired full-time.

That was five years ago. I have, exactly, 5 years of hands on, front line, social work experience. But we learned something while supporting oneself in Philadelphia. We learned (we as in I) that social work wasn't my passion. I love my kids, my clients and a select group of coworkers, but I could not spend my entire life social working. I'd burn out too quickly.

I think about four years ago I wrote a post about how choosing what you do right after college could forever impact the rest of your life. You reach a point where you can no longer experiment with a certain field, you have to take ownership of it and be prepared to potentially advance in that world.

Ok. So. I graduated college, spent a year volunteering as a social worker. This worked out because I was able to get a full time job and support myself while living in the thriving metropolis known as Philadelphia. I realized that it was, is and always will be journalism. I applied to Temple, got accepted into their Masters of Journalism program and then graduated top of my class three years later.

All is well except for one little thing. I have inadvertently groomed myself to be a social worker. I have 3-5 years experience in my field. I can get any kind of upper level social worker job I want (within reason).

Yes, I have an MJ. Yes, my reporting experience dates back to the early 2000s. Yes, I am an art columnist that publishes new articles each month. Yes, I have radio experience.

But guess who never did an internship?

If I did an internship I would be hired by now because that little internship would count as the "12 months of daily or weekly newsroom experience." I'm being rejected company after company because I don't have that "12 months of daily or weekly newsroom experience."

I'm sorry I could not work full-time, go to school part-time and somehow fit an internship in there too. Therefore, for all you baby journos out there, DO AN INTERNSHIP! DO SEVERAL! That will be the key that opens this seemingly unlockable door.

Now it is too late. Internships are only open for current students. Fellowships are geared to build diversity in the newsroom or help established journalists fund new and exciting projects.

I regret not finding time to do an internship. I thought self-sufficiency was more important. Perhaps I should have rented a small studio apartment and taken on part-time work just to do an un-paid internship. Then I wouldn't be turned down or even ignored by even the smallest of backwoods papers.

If someone gave me the chance I would prove to them I was worth it. I know I have what it takes to be a successful journalist in the media world. I know how to cultivate sources and figure out the ins and outs of my environment. I know how to write well. I know how to report. I know AP style. I get the chain of command. I am willing to work nights, weekends, sweep the newsroom at night, pull weeds out front, take the crappy beats, fetch coffee for the editors and do mindless gruntwork if someone would give me the damn time of day.

I swear I am the clearance puppy of life. That little runt of the litter you don't really want but is affordable. Yet that puppy turns out to be the best decision you ever made. That is me.

Until next time..

The Butterfly

Yesterday was a difficult day. My whole psyche just wasn't having it. Everything hurt physically. My head felt as if were about to explode. I was under-motivated. Every day is a precious gift and I wanted nothing to do with it.

The ink has dried on my Masters Degree and I've reluctantly applied for jobs all over the country. With every "send" I hope "this could be it." I start researching apartment prices in Wyoming, see if the condo in South Carolina accepts dogs. I calculate preliminary moving costs. I make a mental checklist of everything I would need to do from getting a car to changing my address on everything.

Then I go to work and do the same exact work I've been doing for the past 5 years. Thank you paycheck. Thank you health insurance. Thank you cluster of co-workers that have become like family. However, I'm wasting my potential. I'm worried with each passing day my journalistic skills are going to fade as I carry out daily social worker activities with this horribly jaded mindset.

Friendships, meaningful people in my life, have left abruptly. Not through death, but just through their own personal changes. Friendships are disintegrating and I'm always wondering why the comings and goings of friendships and interpersonal relationships lack solid closure. Why can't we be like "I'm sorry this friendship is over due to x, y z. Have a nice life?" Why do we just stop talking to people?

I made a web of my life goals. They include getting a Kia Soul, a Boxer dog, a larger apartment with more closet space and an oven, and some form of media job. The key to many of my goals is actually an increased salary. A little more money could help me get the dog and the car and the larger apartment. Not saying money will solve all of my problems, in fact...I think a dog would solve all of my problems. I'd have a dog now if a) I could afford one b) I had an apartment that allowed dogs and c) I had enough space for a dog to live with me in comfort.

Yesterday I sat out at Rittenhouse Square in the early evening in an attempt to enjoy the unseasonably cool weather we're having. I touched up my toenail polish and listened to music. During my time at the park, something kept happening. A butterfly kept landing on my blanket. Turns out I had parked myself right outside a butterfly bush so there were butterflies fluttering about. Yet this one little guy kept visiting me.

At first, I'm not going to lie, I thought maybe he was a deceased family member paying a visit. I'm not big on reincarnation but you never know. Then I thought he might be trying to tell me something. Then I figured my blanket was bright so he was naturally attracted to it. I wanted him to land on my arm but he cautiously refused. He did however land on my knee for a bit and sat there slowing flapping his wings while staring at me.

While searching on Pinterest for quotes about change...something my life inevitably needs...I found a little poster that read: "We delight in the beauty of the butterfly. But rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty." - Maya Angelou.

I got thinking about my new friend.

He...or she...I honestly don't know if butterflies have genders. We'll call it a he. He built a cocoon all by himself. He spun it until he could encase himself in it. He stayed inside, all by himself as the world changed around him. Then he struggled to break free of the bonds he built around himself. He overcame his self-brought challenges and flew out of that cocoon and became this beautiful little butterfly. In fact, his left wing looks like it has a hole in it. So either he was flawed from the start or survived some sort of attack.

Beauty is born out of struggle. People may look at me and think "girl you got a job and a roof over your head. You don't have to worry what you're going to eat next and you have a few good friends. What the hell are you struggling with?"

I struggle with myself. With my expectations. With disappointment. With the revolving door of people in my life. With knowing exactly what I want to do for the rest of my life and struggling to get there.

Butterflies do it every day. Maybe that is why he kept landing on my blanket. To remind me of this.

Until next time...

Nothing New

I haven't written in awhile because there is nothing new going on. Everything is the same.

Until next time...

What Now? And Other Self Discoveries.

If you want to learn more about yourself as a person, book a short trip to a city you've never been to before and build up a ferocious optimistic momentum fueled by hopes and dreams. Analyze results.

I have never been to Boston and I decided shortly after graduating Temple University that I wanted to try and shoot for a job at a BIG newspaper. You see, the Philadelphia Inquirer is on such unstable ground that it is near impossible to get my foot in the elite door of the uncertain newspaper. So I "dream big" and do some digging. I decide that I want to write for the Boston Globe. It is a huge New England paper with a huge staff that is successful both online and in print and is thriving. It is one of the top 10 news organizations in the country.

But wait, we should go to Boston and scope out the area before we try to secure a huge career change there, right?

Sort of.

I booked a trip to Boston for July (this past weekend) and I found tickets to a free tour of the Boston Globe. I was content with that, until a week before I was set to fly up to Boston and a bunch of openings at the Globe presented themselves to me. One was for a paid internship and the other was for a breaking news writer position. Such fate! Such serendipity for these opportunities to make themselves known shortly before my departure! It almost appeared to be meant to be.

So I applied for both. I included in my cover letter that I was going up to Boston and would be touring the Globe on Friday. I started following the main reporters and editors on Twitter. I learned the history of the Globe. I studied the writing styles. I prepared myself for the far-fetched possibility of a cold interview the day of my tour. I was excited at the life changing possibility. I didn't want to leave Philly, but Philly didn't want me as a journalist. I got to live my passion. Everything I heard about Boston was positive.

As the plane landed at Logan International, I couldn't shake my shit eating grin. That is when the adventure began. I quickly found myself insanely comfortable in this foreign city. Like, I could navigate the transit with ease. Find my way to my hostel without getting lost. I felt safe and secure and as if I may have been there before (I hadn't).

Boston is nice. It (at least the areas I was exposed to) is VERY clean, VERY expensive and VERY fancy. Now I went many places: Back Bay, Harbor, North End, Downtown, South Boston, Cambridge (not Boston but ya know). I felt that many places you needed to put your napkin on your lap while eating at McDonalds. The history bits are very interesting and the food is decent. I'm a big fan of the clam chowder. Oh, and the beer is pure and fresh everywhere, especially Sam Adams (which apparently you have to order it "Boston Lager."

The highlights of my trip were 1) my time spent with a college best friend, her husband and her amazingly cute little daughter who can now affectionately call me "Auntie." 2) Boston Common, its like Rittenhouse Square on steroids and I enjoyed simply rolling around the grass with said daughter and enjoying the breeze. 3) The Tam (this little Irish Pub/cash only dive bar around the corner from my hostel that reminded me of Philly, hence why I liked it so much) and 4) The North End (Little Italy was pretty cute)

The hostel was nice and I made a new friend. However sleeping on the top bunk in a room with 7 strangers is kind of difficult. Earplugs are your friend and you must be aware that most everyone will go to bed sooner than you. (9:30pm on a Sunday night and the lights were out/everyone was in bed. I was the a**hole that wanted to stay up and pack my stuff and go out to my bar before turning in).

Oh, and my Globe Tour was up there but my expectations were so high that I was sort of bummed when my tour ended and I was ushered out the building. I hadn't talked to anyone other than my tour guides and the major editor before I was standing in the parking lot with broken dreams. This sounds melodramatic but its kind of true: not because I didn't get a cold interview but actually because I realized what a big deal the Globe is and the caliber of experience of those who work there. I simply don't have the front line journalism chops right now needed to succeed in such a regal institution. I mean, hey..they've won 24 Pulitzers. After my tour I wrote a letter to the hiring editor and enclosed the article I talk about in my cover letter. I said I was making one last attempt at an impression and that I'd apply for future opportunities should this one not pan out. I haven't been this aggressive about anything in my entire life.

As my Boston trip came to a close I realized that deep within my heart, I absolutely loved Philadelphia. Boston was nice and I am so glad I got to experience it but in the end Philadelphia is home and I am very happy here. Which puts me in an interesting position. Out of NYC, DC, Boston and Philly, I will always choose Philly. We've got culture, diversity a sense of community. We have parks and festivals and concerts and beer gardens. We have fancy pubs and dive bars, cheesesteaks and water ice, history and modern art, and all of it is accessible/pretty affordable.

While meeting various travelers and new friends, my work comes up in conversations. "Wow, you must feel so fulfilled!" "You've got a big heart" and "You deserve a medal" in other words "You must sleep well at night."

I don't. Yes the work I do is great and I help people every day. But I don't sleep well at night because I know I am not fulfilling my life's passion. I know I'm not living up to my potential. I know that my journalistic/writing talent is sitting there untapped as I continue the stressful yet comfortable work that I've been doing for the past 5 years.

Yes, "it" will come, "it" being my opportunity. Be patient. Just be. Just live. I know, I hear this everyday from everyone. But the reality is, what now? I have learned that I am undeniably in love with the City of Brotherly Love. The same city that despite my love has no room for a young, dedicated and talented journalist. And I'm not gunning for a senior editor position. I just want to be a little reporter and work my way though the corporate ladder like everyone else. But I just can't seem to get my feet on that first rung.

Boston is nice and it is a city for people who like nice things. I spill food on my shirt and throw my hair in a top knot. I don't own a designer handbag and my most precious material possession is my Ray-bans. I like a good meal but I prefer to be able to afford it. I'm low-maintenance and find comfort in the trash-laden streets of Philadelphia. Who knew?

What is next? I don't know. I will give the Globe another week and if nothing comes up (it won't) I will start seriously looking for a new apartment in South Philly where I want to live and eventually raise a family anyway. Perhaps I'm going to have to pursue an aggressive freelance hustle to "make it." I don't know. All I know is that I need a new game plan. Back to the drawing board.

Until next time...

Greetings from the Fishbowl

I write to you from a fishbowl, or rather, through my new glasses. I love them. The frames are lager than I'm used to but they look fantastic. There is one tiny problem: they are causing distorted vision. Like... the walls are warped and I can't walk up or down steps straight distortion. The Internets say to let it ride and my brain will adjust accordingly. I say, take them back to the glasses place and double check the prescription to make sure we're not an axis off or something. I just hope this doesn't cost me more money. My boss complimented my glasses today and I was all, "If I stumble around like I am drunk today, I assure you I am not drunk. Its my new glasses."

In other news I went on a healthy adventure yesterday. I took the RiverLine train to Bordentown, NJ and biked the Delaware and Raritan Canal trail. It was a little hot but a beautiful sunny day for a ridiculously long bike ride. I biked a little over 8 miles yesterday. The ride to the marina was easy but the ride back was a bit treacherous. I was tired. I made it to and from without incident.

I did manage to get hit on by an older guy at the Marina who was a few seconds away from driving back to his house to get his motorcycle and bringing it back to offer me a ride. Fortunately, I had my own bike. haha and under NO CIRCUMSTANCES could I leave it unattended. Also, I'm very familiar with "stranger danger" so there is that.

I feel pretty healthy today, minus the lack of coordination and overall feeling of being drunk. Got a 3.5 day work week ahead, some fun 4th of July week festivities up my sleeve and a trip to Boston next week. All good things.

Now if only I could find a journalism job.

Until next time...

A Little Stroke of Luck

I'm alive. Everything and nothing have been happening at the exact same time.

This past weekend I went to Jersey to hang with my best friend. We had a terrific beach day and then went to our favorite All You Can Eat seafood/sushi place in New Brunswick. On Sunday we traveled to the Columbus Farmers Market which is always fun. They have tons of stuff both old and new to browse and well..buy of course.

Yesterday I started back up at the gym again. After gorge-fest 2014 (aka my weekend) I knew it was time to cut the sugar/fats and get my fat ass back to the gym. I just set up a circuit training schedule so I'll mix and match cardio with the circuit training. This should yield results along with the portion control and influx of vegetables/lean means I've been consuming. It is summer and the world is half naked. I can't be jiggling around in my shorts/skirt. No one wants to see that.

Another awesome thing happened yesterday. The Fourth of July is my favorite holiday. Every year I head down to the WaWa Welcome America Festival on the Parkway and watch the Philly 4th of July Jam. I've never been able to win/obtain tickets to the seating area by the stage. EVER I enter the contests and stalk to promotions to no avail. This year, I tried the Instagram contest and failed. BUT they also have trivia contests on Twitter and Facebook. I memorized the event schedule in case they asked a question about it and low and behold they did!

Yesterday they asked what was the first movie that would be shown and where in the Philly at the Movies series. I knew it was Frozen at Franklin Square. I tweeted that as quickly as I could and I WON!!! I got seats by the stage area for the concerts! I was so excited yesterday I was literally shaking. This was finally my year! I'd have to say that overall 2014 has been pretty good to me.

Until next time...

Today is Brought To You By The Word "Slump"

I did everything right. Almost. I unfortunately missed yoga yesterday because a client scheduled with me at the last second, thus forcing me to cancel my enrollment in Weds night's yoga class. Such is life. But after that, I did everything right. I went home, I got my things in order for early morning spin class for this morning, I cooked a nice healthy dinner of chicken, carrots and quinoa. I watched a show, ate my dinner, and got ready for bed. I was asleep by 10pm. Bam.

Slept through the night, had cinematic dreams. Like, my dreams were a movie. I didn't recognize the characters or understand why they were happening, but I basically watched some random movie in my sleep. At one point an elderly woman's kitchen caught fire.

I woke up at 6am. I went to get out of bed. I heard the rain pounding on my ceiling. Crap, torrential downpour this morning. My gym bag has a leather base and I have to walk from the gym to work which is about a 20 minute walk. I was going to get soaked even with an umbrella and my bag ruined. I tried to cancel my enrollment but it was too late. You have one hour before the class to cancel online, otherwise you have to cancel in person a half hour before the class begins.

I'm going to be charged $5 and I may have blocked someone from taking the class. I feel bad about that.

I rolled over, thinking, it is just $5. Fell back asleep and within 10 minutes jumped the sleep cycle and had more cinematic dreams. I was back in REM at 6:30am. Not good when your alarm goes off at 7:40am. Which it did, which I had a horrible time getting up because I felt like a human brick, cemented to my bed. I eventually got up and got dressed with much apathy towards my makeup and trudged out the door into the rainy, gloomy Thursday.

I ordered iced coffee with expresso, hoping that would wake me up a bit. It didn't. I almost missed my EL stop. I was sitting there daydreaming when I realized I had to get off the EL or I'd be heading north towards the end of the line. I'm 100% unfocused, kind of dissociating as if I am in a dream. I don't feel awake, I don't feel present and I've got a gauntlet of meetings and even baby sitting later this evening at work. Of course I am dreading all of it. If I could focus on one task it wouldn't be so bad. Crap.

I did everything right until I decided not to get soaked for spin class. Had I got up and just planned an alternative bag, I would have exercised. I would have avoided losing $5. I would probably feel more awake. I would feel myself. I would not feel like a zombie. I would be happy.

But I didn't and now I'm paying for it.

Until next time...

The Rise and Fall

All throughout your life you are constantly motivated to achieve. You're supposed to set and achieve goals, do your best, work hard and get far. That is the common motif. What "they" don't tell you is that after riding a massive wave of achievement, there is a sort of decent back into the ordinary. A crash, if you will.

As the pomp and circumstance died down, the cards stopped coming in and my graduation photos became a little outdated, I realized I had fallen back into ordinary territory. May was a big month for me. I had a lot of doctors appointments but got a clean bill of health. I ran a 5K in record time, for myself, at 36:33. I graduated Temple. A bunch of goals checked off my to-do list. The praise and accolades have died down and I'm left wondering what is next in the silence of it all.

This isn't a bad thing. But when you do great thing after great thing, the constant motivation and sense of achievement feels amazing. Like I said, it is like a high. Which makes someone like me frantic to build a new goal list. I've been doing some out of the ordinary things like getting up before work to go to the gym, taking late night yoga classes, biking 7 miles, watching my spending, and trying to meet new people. I've been job hunting, writing daily, trying to figure out if now is the best time to start my book. I've been plotting summer adventures, trying to muster up the confidence to complete an open mic night for stand up comedy, and creating little nuance goals in between all of that.

Which is great, live life to the fullest and what not. But there is some value in just sitting back and relaxing, enjoying the quietude. Except quietude scares me. I'm so worried I'll get too comfortable in the static state that I'll get stuck and stop achieving goals. Yet the reality of it all is this is the one time in my life where I have the opportunity to just chill for a hot second and breathe in the world around me. I'm only accountable to myself, no one else. There is great value in this grey area that I need to quickly learn to appreciate until it is gone.

Until next time...

Graduation.....Friends Forever

I feel like I am a dog. Not in a bad way, wait and read the metaphor. So I feel like I am a dog and I have been chasing this car for three years. With each passing day I get closer and closer to catching it. Now, I have finally caught the car. I am standing in the middle of a street with its bumper in my mouth. What on earth do I do now?

I have graduated. I have a Master's of Journalism. I am done with graduate school. I went for 3 years part-time, worked full-time and was top of my class. I did it.

Graduation itself wasn't quite a blur. My parents and I got there super early. I was in the basement of the Liacouras Center right on time. Unfortunately I missed out on the Shoe Cam (#TUGradShoes) where they took professional photos of your feet before graduating. I was bummed because I got a special Cherry and White pedicure for the occasion. Such is life.

Alexa caught up with me and we started to process in. I am guessing that the feelings you get walking into the Center with over 3,000 people in attendance is a fraction of what Olympic athletes feel during the Opening Ceremony Parade of Nations. Because that is sort of what it felt like. My parents lucked out and got a seat on the right side of the arena. Alexa and I lucked out and got a front row seat in a back section. We had a great view of the festivities and plenty of leg room.

Bill Cosby came to our graduation, as he does every year. Jill Scott received an honorary doctorate. Alexa and I took a bunch of selfies...as did almost everyone. Towards the end of the ceremony, the deans and board of trustee members officially conferred our degrees. Each department had to stand as they "officially" declared our degrees earned. I think that is when it hit me. When they called the doctoral students and the masters students including Masters of Journalism. Alexa and I stood with huge grins on our faces.

Before they announced us, I told her we should grab hands and hold them up, just like Peeta and Katniss in the Hunger Games during the chariot ride in. I said, "they'll love it." Love it they did, for we were asked to do it again and we're in a bunch of graduation slideshows. It is one of my favorite photos. We came into the program together and we're leaving together.

Then this happened: 

And I seriously thought I was going to cry. All that hard work. Blood. Sweat. Tears. Tequila. Laughter. Stress. Awkward moments. All of it. For this.

Afterwards we had to book it to our departmental ceremony where we officially walk and receive our diplomas. We made it in the nick of time! It was set to start a mere 15 minutes after the large graduation and unfortunately that ran over. However, we got our tickets and took our seats. We managed to get a front row again! My parents were not so lucky. They were all the way up in the right high seats. They could still see me though.

Dan Rather was our commencement speaker. Then he remained on stage to shake the graduates hands. As I went up (I almost forgot you have to turn in your name card to receive your diploma) I paused for a picture that I made an undergrad take with my phone and then shook the dean's hand. A few more people. Then I came to Dan Rather.

He clasped my hand in both of his. Shook it. "Congratulations! What a great accomplishment!" He said. "Thank you Mr. Rather," I replied. "I like your hat!" He said.

Dan Rather liked my hat. I should put that on my resume. By the way, mine is on the left. I am not good with puffy paint, Alexa's is really artistic. Mine is nostalgic. We decorated them a few nights before graduation.

The East Coast Earthquake hit while I was at orientation for the Masters of Journalism program. I was in Annenberg Hall when the ground started shaking. I remember it like it was yesterday. The KTA does not stand for "Kick Temple's Ass," which is what my dad thought. It is actually Kappa Tau Alpha, the Greek letters of the honor society I am now a part of.

After the departmental ceremony (which was long as hell because they called up over 500 graduates) I gave my parents a brief little tour of the campus along with my good friend Sr. Katharina who came celebrate my graduation with me as well. We went to visit one of my favorite professors. Then I got a graduation crepe from the Crepe Truck! I love that truck. We took a few more pictures and headed home.

To celebrate my graduation, my parents took me out to dinner at my favorite bar. I wore my hat, which got a lot of "Congratulations!" from random people. Actually, all day I got congratulations from passer bys. It was pretty cool. I ate my favorite bbq wings and then my mom snapped this shot with one of my favorite bartenders. That's a lemon drop shot in my hand that one of the other bartenders bought for me to celebrate. God, I love that bar. It is MY bar.

Just when I thought all the celebrations were over. I was browsing the news, like a good little journalist and I saw this. Alexa and I made the news! I sent her a screen shot and she replied...I happened to take a screen shot at the exact moment she text me. So you can see her reaction up top. haha Then a bunch of residents at work said "Ms. Mary Anna! I saw you on the news!" Pretty great. 

Now the pomp and circumstance has died down. My manic accomplishments of May are complete:
Top Scholar Graduate Plaque
Lori Schipper Graduate Award
Kappa Tau Alpha Honor Society Inductee
Personal Record 5K Race time of 36:33
Exceptional High Pass on my Comprehensive Exams
Graduating Temple University's Master's of Journalism Program

What a fantastic month. What a fantastic 3 years.

Until next time...

Bamsies

Editing the News II, I had a really crucial interview with a local historian for my audio slideshow project. I made a reservation for a voice recorder and mic from the equipment center. The equipment center HATES grad students. My reservation never went through. Four hours before my interview was set to start, I borrowed a co-workers car, drove to Staples and bought my own voice recorder and then went to Best Buy and bought a microphone. The interview was one of the best ones I ever had and my subject was perfect.

Same class, I had a video project due. This time, the equipment center came through. Except they don't charge their camcorder batteries and if your video cam kit doesn't have a charger, you are out of luck. I had about an hour or so of life left before the camera would die. I needed multiple hours because I had a lot of content to record. So in a panic, I scoured the city and found a universal battery charger for the Canon video camera (actually all Canons ever). I road the bus down to Best Buy and bought the expensive thing right before the store closed. Then I got stranded in South Philadelphia for two hours. It was expensive and a crappy experience but I got the project done and earned an A.

I have traveled the far corner of the burbs to take a handgun training class and do as story on Ladies' Night at the range. I remember having to walk a half a mile back to the bus stop in the freezing cold at night. I hung out with homeless folks during Occupy Philly. I had to find leaves in the dead of winter and identify them. I carried 14 textbooks to and from my Editing I class in a rollie bookbag.

I have stayed up until 3-4am just to finish a project or paper, then sat in class, looking like a zombie. I was hospitalized due to a gallbladder attack and brought schoolwork with me to the ER. During recovery I completed three weeks worth of make up work and turned it all in the next time I went to class.

I've spent a lot of money. I've spent a lot of time. I've cried, laughed, drank to much, had proud moments and had doubts. Yet all throughout graduate school, I knew I was where I was supposed to be.

Three years ago I learned about the Departmental Awards. I learned the Journalism Department had a Top Scholar Plaque for the graduating grad student and undergrad who had the highest GPA. I wanted it.. So I decided to bust my rump to earn it. I cried when I got my first A- but the next one didn't sting too badly. By my final year...I had all A's and three A-'s.

Then this happened:

I was awarded Top Scholar. I did it. I made it my goal to win and I did. Bamsies.

By the end of the ceremony, I was inducted into Kappa Tau Alpha, the national journalism honor society equivalent to Phi Beta Kappa. I won the Lori Schipper Graduate Award and of course, Top Scholar.

There is a medal and a pin in there too. That is my Journo bestie, Alexa. We came into the program together and we are graduating together. Actually the great Northeast Earthquake occurred during my orientation. So I think I am going to write on my mortarboard: "I came in with an earthquake. I went out with a bang."

I can't believe it has been three years! What a ride!

Until next time...

Keep Calm. I Am Alive.

On the morning of April 22nd at around 8:35am I turned in a 40+ page photo book to the office of Graduate Studies. My comprehensive exams were complete. The chapter of Graduate School is coming to a close.

The past two weeks have been a nice little hurricane of projects, lack of sleep, questionable self-care, work pressure, stress, angst, and finally a little bit of relief. Comps consisted of two large papers and a book of 100 original photos with captions, printed and bound. I thought I would have the opportunity to work out but all I worked out was my digestion track with the Dominos Pizza, McDonalds, Wrap Shack, beer, candy, and cookies I ate. Needless to say, I was a bit of a mess. I stayed focused and put my all into the projects, they got done, and I believe I did well. But I let myself go. I'm dying to get back to the gym this week.

The morning I turned in my photobook, I had 5 hours of sleep the night before and I had to work a 10 hour day. I was irritable and all my clients needed things in my absence. So there was no easing back into work flow. The whole week played out that way. Even after I'd sleep 8 hours, I'd wake up as if I hadn't slept at all. It was rough and I hated feeling so drained. My apartment was a mess, I didn't make it to the gym, I was eating a lot of microwavable things. I felt unbalanced.

Then this weekend hit. On Friday we said farewell to one of our coworkers who got a full time job at her part time place. Then a few of us went out to Happy Hour at this really awesome BBQ place near work. The restaurant made you feel like you were out at a Carolina BBQ! The way it is constructed and set back from the street, you really are transported out of the city for a bit. The food was delicious and the happy hour specials were fantastic. I will definitely be going back.

On Saturday I had to cover an arts festival in Cheltenham for the magazine. I was tired and I didn't feel like it, but I am so glad I got assigned that story. It put me outside in the spring weather for a good four hours. I really connected with the photographer assigned and together we created a good text/photo story. The whole experience was pretty enjoyable. I love journalism moments, they are pretty great.

After the assignment, I went home and took a nap...which lasted 3 hours. And somehow fell asleep that night and slept a full 8 hours. I suppose this was the catch up and collapse from the past two weeks. On Sunday I did laundry, ran errands and worked on some articles both for school and for the magazine. I cooked up some fish, farro and corn for dinner (FINALLY SOMETHING WHOLESOME) and picked up some produce for the week.

Today is Monday and I can finally say I feel a bit more balanced. I'm still a little tired, but at least I feel like I'm eating better again and I am in more control of my life. I'm planning on hitting the gym tomorrow after work. I have a departmental awards ceremony on Weds. I'm going to the opera this weekend for a final assignment for school. Then it is just two weeks until graduation!

Glad to be feeling more like myself.

Until next time...

I'm Rallying

Holy mother of exhaustion. The car crash nightmares. The feeling of chronic fatigue even after 8 hours of sleep. The trance-like disassociation I experienced. It felt like I was out of my body and watching it. I'd go to the grocery store and aimlessly wander the aisles like someone on a drug trip, not sure of my goal and overwhelmed how to achieve it. The simplest tasks were gargantuan. I'd sit on the bus and just pray to close my eyes and open them and be home without the effort. Eating was tiring. Everything hurt.

This is how the past week has been. Things are a little better, as I'm now just a tad groggy instead of full out depleted every day. The nightmares are taking a break. In fact, two nights ago I dreamt of Kate Middleton and reconciling with an old friend. Good dreams. The upswing started after I spent 45 minutes curled in a ball at the foot of my bed with the window open, just listening to the noises outside and concentrating on my breathing.

I've never been this bad.

My comprehensive exams are next week and its funny....I'm not even worried. I'm just going to knock them out, try my best and enjoy the 6 whole days I will have to just focus on journalism and journalism alone. No work, no chores, probably some exercise so I don't go crazy. But overall, just eating, sleeping and doing journalism projects. I'm excited! That seems like a break for me! Also, I enjoy journalism so much I'm bound to love composing my projects. I'm not nervous or dreading it. I'm ready.

But I'm exhausted. Work is taking it's toll on me. We keep getting new clients ever day. That means children need to be assessed and enrolled in our childcare on top of the myriad of meetings, committees and other work obligations which are expected of me. We just did a timeline of a client's journey from before they reach us to move out and after care. Many of their stepping stones and program opportunities are made possible by ME. After hearing my name so many times, it makes sense why I am so tired all the time.

Then comes the anxiety. The nightmares. The sleep which seems pointless. The anxiety over being tired. The anxiety over being anxious. It all sort of collides together. I'm lucky I didn't have a breakdown. I'm lucky I made minor changes to find some solace in the chaos.

Today I'm tired but almost relieved. I have one more day of work (Monday) before my comps break. I'm spending the weekend running a 5K, doing laundry, reading for comps and preparing for the week ahead. I've designated my dining room table to be my "comps command center" and house all the materials I need for these exams.

Breathe. Stretch. Shake. Let It Go.

Until next time...

Whoop There It Is

Have you ever misplaced your keys and spent massive amounts of time searching for them? You feel completely anxious and panicked. How about when you try to figure out a complex problem and mull over possible solutions. Ever feel hopeless as if this solution-less state will never end?

When we hit snags, especially ones that don't resolve quickly, we get lost in the hopelessness of the all. We feel stuck and the notion of getting unstuck seems incredibly far fetched. We keep trying to get unstuck but eventually the hopelessness gives way to apathy.

That is until something magical happens. We find the keys in their obvious place. The solution to the complex problem suddenly dawns on you. You pull free of the snag.

That instantaneous feeling of joy and relief immediately erases the buildup of anxiety and dread you just went through. A weight is lifted off of your shoulders and you pretty much forget all about how stuck you felt and how long you felt that way. You solved the problem. Onto the next one.

Oftentimes we say "I'll never XYZ" But when we actually do XYZ, we're so elated we've forgotten that cynical struggle.

I have this inkling that I'm about to break free of a terrible snag. That something is going to give, really soon, even though I'm not quite sure what it is going to be. The moment I break free, all my pain and doubt and cynicism is going to just vanish. I'm going to be in a minor state of shock, disbelief and find new ways to adjust to that feather-light feeling of sweet freedom and solution.

I'm going to be able to say "Free At Last!"

I'm just not sure how, why or when. But soon, I feel it will be very soon.

Until next time...

Sometimes Not Doing What You Have To Is The Best Decision

This weekend, everyone on the East Coast, specifically in the Northeast, got a taste of what it is like to live in Seattle. It rained. Heavily. The entire weekend. It. Did. Not. Stop. Until. This. Morning.

You get the point.

I had a bunch of writing projects due both for school and for the magazine. Rainy weekend = perfect opportunity to finish such tasks. Apparently the rain contributed to my lethargy and I found it painstakingly difficult to produce meaningful words and complete sentences. On Saturday alone it took me several hours to give birth to a 900 word essay about the art culture in Philadelphia.

Saturday night proved to be interesting. Ugh, proved to be. I think I wrote that phrase a million times this weekend. Anyway, I went to see HAIR the musical at Temple's theatre for class. I had to write a review on it. As soon as I get there I learn that its general seating and there is a giant mob in the front lobby eagerly awaiting entry to the show. I take my place in line, hand in my ticket and try to find a nice spot to sit...preferably an aisle seat. I find a good one only to learn it is reserved. Nevermind.

I contemplate going to the other side of the theatre but it looks difficult to get over there. I ask a guy sitting one in from the aisle if I can sit there, he obliges.

I'm three rows from the front.

The actors muddle around, hugging various people and looking super excited and well..out of character. Until the lights dim and they scurry to their places. Within the first five minutes I've seen a bare ass, full frontal man bits, a guy in a banana hammock oh..and watched him give the usher a lap dance. Then banana hammock guy (Berger...the character btw) sticks his foot in a noose and swings across the audience twice. This whole time I'm like "WHAT IF HE FALLS ON ME" or "WHAT DO I DO?"

Needless to say, I was a tad uncomfortable. We'd broken intimate boundaries a little to quickly for my taste. That and the fact the actors perform in the aisles so there was always someone creeping next to me. I began to relax a bit when I tuned into the singing. These kids were incredibly talented. Like...beautiful professional quality voices talented. I began picking out my favorite singers and eagerly awaiting their next ballad. The show started to get fun.

The second act was one big LSD trip. The ending is depressing BUT everyone is happy after the curtain call as the entire audience and cast sing "Let the Sun Shine." Naturally, my favorite ensemble member saw me clapping and singing to the music so he grabbed my hand and led me to the stage. I got to clap and dance on stage with the cast. I left feeling...well..rejuvenated! It was a great show in hindsight and I'm glad I had the opportunity to go.

That is, until I stepped out into the torrential downpour that was Saturday night and got soaked on my way home. Sunday was supposed to be a Zumba and laundry day but guess who skipped both. Yup. Me.

I woke up early on Sunday to the sound of sheets of rain pounding my roof. I decided right then and there that I would not be going to Zumba. It wasn't worth getting drenched and being miserable. So I cancelled my class and stayed in. I was going to laundry when I finished my theatre review but that too took longer than expected. I finally made the executive decision to skip laundry.

What a great decision it was. Sometimes choosing not to do something you have to do is the best decision you can make. I was able to go over my finances, clean my apartment thoroughly, cook a nice dinner, shower and get in bed by 9:30pm. Splendid days.

Somehow this Monday is a tad more bearable.

Until next time...

March Madness

What can I say? I clean up nicely.

Welcome to March Madness, well, it has nothing to do with college basketball and everything to do with my arts and culture lifestyle. Between my Writing Arts Criticism class sending me to art galleries, plays, dance concerts, the opera and the theater and my position with Main Course, covering art galleries monthly (now even more), I am overly exposed to Philadelphia's art scene. I love it but it makes for an extra busy MA between work, school and everything else.

One thing that has not suffered and I am so thankful, is my devotion to fitness. Even when I'm barely awake after working late at work on a Tuesday night, I still drag my butt to the gym to work out. As you can see from the photo above, I'm getting results. :) My 5K training has been on hold, so I need to get back to running, but the fitness relationship is still going strong. Oh, and I eat pretty well to. I'm a big fan of homemade smoothies and salads and lean healthy meats.

When I'm not running all over the city or working or in school, I'm actually out having adventures. On St. Patrick's Day I went to a bar by school for a Guinness to celebrate the day. I had to pay a $5 cover to get into the Irish Pub. I hate covers. I didn't think it would be worth my time, but I went in anyway. After ordering my Guinness...ok well two and a shot of whiskey, I went to pay for my libations. Luck of the Irish! The cashier lost my tab! I told her what I ordered, because I'm a very honest person. She handed me a receipt that undercharged my order by A LOT. She waved it off, wished me a good night and left! I paid less than half of what I should have, so I tipped well to make up for it.

I was about to leave when I met this really nice couple. They offered me a shot of tequila and how could I possibly say no to free tequila. One shot and a few beers later (which I didn't have to pay for either) I had made new friends, enjoyed the live band, tried to decipher a bunch of authentic Irish accents and just overall had a great time. A highlight was when the Irish bartender tried to pretend a bottle of Bud Light was a bottle of expensive wine when a guy ordered it. He made a big show of the bottle and poured a little bit into a cup for the customer to smell, swirl and taste it. It was hilarious and I'm glad I got to be there for that spectacle.

As I walked home, happy from a night of interesting interactions, I thought about how many of my great stories should start with "So Mary Anna walks into a bar..." Usually, good things happen and friends are made, albeit for just the night.

Until next time....

Running on Sunshine

I've been running crazy, running on anxiety, running on sunshine, and literally running at the gym. A lot of running going on. I don't really like to run. My knees are crap. I grunt and wheeze and I lose my breath within 30 seconds of moderate jogging. But yesterday I registered for two 5K races with the goal of beating my 40 minute 5K time. Because, 40 minutes is fine, for an overweight wheezing asthmatic with bad knees, but I'm much healthier than I used to be. So I'm shooting for 34-35 minute 5K by May. As if I didn't already have enough going on.

Oh, and on a cold treadmill run I did a 13 minute mile. Runners would shake their heads at that but my goal was a 12 minute mile. To be only one minute over at my start of training is actually a really good thing.

So yesterday was a busy work day, I was groggy because daylight savings time destroys my circadian rhythms. However it turned out to be a great day. After a good run at the gym, I got an e-mail from school stating I'm in the top 10% of my class and will be inducted into Kappa Tau Alpha, the national journalism honor society. This is exciting because it is journalism's equivalent of Phi Beta Kappa. In other words, I is smart! It was great news. So great that I might have broken into an impromptu dance party in my kitchen.

The magazine has been going great. I'm starting to submit more articles beyond my monthly art column. Still putting freelance fingers into other outlets as well. We'll see what happens. The more I'm published the better I look (and the happier I am), so keeping up with that good work.

That is about it. Just running around all the time, trying to stay healthy, keeping my eyes on my goals, getting recognized for being smart and trying to keep it together (so far succeeding).

Until next time..

Livin At the Speed of Light

Friday I was up for 18 straight hours. Saturday night I closed down a bar. Sunday I had such a fierce workout I'm starting to notice very visual muscle definition around my abs. What a crazy weekend.

When you're an art columnist for a magazine and you're taking a Writing Arts Criticism course at the same time, you find yourself at a lot of arts and entertainment activities. Just this weekend alone I went to a contemporary dance performance, a modern art gallery, and I painted my own work of art at Painting With a Twist. I think I've been to more artsy events and galleries in the past 5 months than I have in the 4 years I've lived in PA. Also last weekend I was at an awesome concert in West Chester, PA. I saw Black Violin and got to meet them after the show. I bought one of their t-shirts and they signed it.

I'm starting to learn how to function properly with less than 8 hours of sleep. Between waking up due to loud noises in the apartment building and just having a jam packed schedule, I'm not getting 8+ hours. I cherish my sleep so much. However, I'm getting accustomed to 7 hours, which is still adequate according to the National Sleep Association and what not. I don't want to dip below 7 but if I can continue to function at this level, I won't complain.

Function is right. Between work, school, my new gym rat status, school events, magazine events, writing, writing writing and the occasional fun social event with friends...I'm running at the speed of light. I mean, Feb went by in a BLUR. But it was all good stuff. Being busy is good and I'm definitely happier when I've got a loaded plate. That and the fact I'm taking the gym seriously. I even workout on Tuesday nights after working late. Dedication.

Looks like it won't slow down anytime soon. Fortunately this weekend I will just be doing my GLP, or Gym, Laundry, Produce...but the following week I have dinner with one of my good friends, maybe the Flower show, and a few papers sprinkled in between. It is crazy but I love it.

Until next time...

It Is Tradition

I think at least 3 out of the 4 years I've had this blog, I've written a post on or about Valentine's Day. So, in keeping with the literary tradition, here we are.

We're all recovering from Winter Storm Pax, which completed inundated Philly with snow, sleet, ice, frozen rain...you name it. While walking to work I had to nearly wade through 5 inch deep slush puddles. The city is a mess. Snow, ice, limited parking, thick icy sidewalks are everywhere. Just this morning, there was a 50 car pileup on the Pennsylvania turnpike. So, I'm not sure how many people are in the lovey dovey mood. Most people are just sore from all the shoveling.

Alas it is Valentine's Day. Going with the adopted attitude "Love Hard and Love Fully," I'm here in a pink sweater with a purple bracelet. I had my cupid's choice donut this morning. My dad surprised me by mailing this hilarious singing Valentine's Day frog and a beautiful new watch to my work. That was really great. :-) I'm going to the gym after work because let's face it...I'm in love with City Fitness. Then I'm going to cook a delicious meal of fish and asparagus, drink some wine (already popped it in the fridge for tonight) and watch Valentine's Day in sweatpants. Sounds like a great day of love to me.

For me, it is not a single and alone kind of blues that makes me go into celebration overdrive on Valentine's Day. At least not this year. I think it is more this sort of knowledge that I can't have what I want. Perhaps also, a sort of resentment at the "be brave and tell someone you love them if you truly do" and "love prevails" attitudes. Because, no matter how glamorized those actions are, they often have disastrous consequences. The "don't give up on someone if you love them," philosophy is magnificently flawed. Love is a beautiful and wonderful thing, but it can also be crippling and damaging when you believe these tiresome mantras. It doesn't always work out and waiting and loving with everything you've got probably won't turn things around into the direction you hoped for. Just saying.

Love yourself first. Love hard and fully. Be mindful of your heart and don't let opportunities fly by because you're so fixated on not giving up on someone or even something.

Until next time....