Hook 'Em Horns

It's no secret that in Texas, football might as well be the only sport. But it wasn't until recently that I've gotten on board with even watching football with any sense of enjoyment. I didn't understand all the rules and why 60 minutes of play seemed to take at least two hours in real time. I preferred tennis and soccer. A particularly fond memory I have is from a get-ahead summer school class I took when the teacher slipped me the score of a World Cup match during a test. I would never have needed the same courtesy to know how the Packers were doing or how many touchdowns the Patriots had.

I think much of the reason I shunned football was simply the faux rebellion which taints most teenage years. We're always looking for something really popular to hate so we can feel superior to the masses. Now, I'm secure in my individuality and I don't care if being a football fan makes me one of millions. Which isn't to say that people who don't like football aren't secure, just for me, the only reason I kept so far away from the sport was simply because of outside neuroses.

The turning point for me really came after my first semester in college. My Texas nostalgia was in full swing as I found myself away from home and my favorite state-wide grocery store chain. It just so happened that that particular year, the UT Austin Longhorns won the championship. I watched, anxious for my newly-found team to represent the state I had abandoned. When we won, I was ecstatic, but I still wasn't a full-on football convert. Only this football season have I tried to watch as many games as possible, and spent many hours watching ESPN commentary. Much of this was spurred by simply having nothing better to watch, but now, I'm invested.

Tonight, for those that don't know, the Longhorns will face the Crimson Tide in the championship game. We're underdogs, and pretty much the only state in an ESPN poll that thinks we're going to win is Texas. More people think Alabama will win with double digits than think UT will win at all. I have hope that we'll win, but I dread losing. It will mean not watching ESPN for a couple of days. And then what will I do!?

One sign that I truly like football is how painful it is to watch the Longhorns play now. The more I care, the less pleasurable it is to watch my chosen team. I can't watch Andy Roddick play tennis without being stressed out beyond reason, and the same is true of UT. The championship game tonight will not be enjoyable unless it is always clear that we will win, and I know that is not going to happen (whoever wins, it won't be obvious). So spare a thought for me, and send me calming vibes!

2010: Where's My Flying Car?

Happy New Year, everyone! I still can't believe that it's 2010. I just have no context for this particular year. What does it mean to be starting this year? What's going to happen? I have no idea.

It is, yet again, based on school for me. In high school, everything was about graduating in 2005, and then, far away, was 2009. I always thought about those years. Then, maybe I would consider certain age milestones, but that was much more theoretical and didn't involve anything I could really imagine. Now I find myself with no graduations left, no simple milestone markers to reach for. There will be my first day in an office, hopefully doing something I love for the long-term, but there's no hard and fast date I can count down to for that. Which makes morale a little harder to keep up, when nothing seems certain (except those pesky death and taxes). It's not as if I know that I only have a month or six weeks until something comes up. Could be tomorrow, could be next year. God, I hope not.

Anyway, 2010. What does it hold? Mostly, I'm just hoping to get through the year and make it to 2011 with all the things I thought I would have at the end of 2009, like a job and a place of my own. I'm looking forward to seeing what will happen, and I'm going to try my best to make it all good.

As far as resolutions go, that's about it. Maybe try to post a little more regularly here, and with a little more optimism!

The Prodigal Blogger Returns

Hello all! Let's see if I remember how to do this blogging thing. It's been so long! Bad blogger!

With Thanksgiving over (and Christmas just around the corner), it's strange to think that I'm still not sitting in an office everyday, or just working one full-time job. When I graduated I expected that by now I would be settled. I wonder how long it will be, but I think I'm over that phase of creating deadlines for myself about it. I just have to keep working and eventually it will get there. Trust is something I'm learning, trust in myself more than anything else.

But in more tangible news, I just completed a piece for my local paper that could be the beginning of a regular freelancing gig. A step in the right direction, I believe. In the non-writing field, I did get a job that pays the bills (of which I have precisely two: car insurance and repaying student loans; three if you count holiday shopping). I'm the newest holiday staffer of a retail store in the mall. Not revealing the company since I wouldn't want to enter into the gray area of the social media thingy I signed, but if you're my Facebook friend, you know.

This is my first 'real' job, the kind that's not an internship, not at school, and involves going somewhere. Pay stubs and everything. A lot of people did this in high school. I was lucky enough to think of school as my work and devote those years to homework and last minute group projects (they happen more than you realize). Which might be why I'm finding the transition to the working world so strange. It's like changing careers, going from a record producer to a chemical engineer. Okay, no idea why I picked those two things, but you know what I mean. I'm getting used to it, though, and continue to juggle my schedule with writing and retailing.

So, look forward to rants about my sore feet and people paying with checks (so complicated for the cashier!). And my continuing search for a full-time writing job. Would that be a good New Year's resolution? Maybe I should just start with not leaving this blog empty for a month! Thanks for hanging in there!

Be Back Soon!

With the holidays and everything, I've been falling behind in my posts, so I just wanted to leave a quick cyber note that I am alive and well, and that I have every intention of flooding your brains with new and exciting life events soon. Until then, happy weekend...

Consumer Stalking

Have you ever felt like a company or store was following you around, tempting you with things that they know you can't resist? I feel that I'm am currently the victim of consumer stalking.

I swear to you. I don't know if they're tapping my phone or reading my thoughts, but somehow, Amazon clearly knows what I want and exactly what price it will take to make it impossible to say no. Now, they already have plenty of information on me. I've bought various things from them over the years, usually movies and books. And I have about six wish lists, including one specifically telling people what would make a good gift for me. I'm a list person, and Amazon satisfies my organizing addiction. So it's not surprising that they know what I want. But really, I don't know why there has been such a string of things which seems specifically designed to ensnare me and my money.

First, it was Gilmore Girls. Loved it in high school and college, and I've recently started watching the reruns every weekday on ABC Family. So when Amazon sent me a friendly little e-mail about their deal of the day, imagine my amazement to see that they had the entire show, seven whole seasons, for about $100. That was insane, because we're talking about 40+ discs that usually sell for at least $170. I knew I would want this set eventually, and that it would never be cheaper, so after a few agonizing hours going back and forth, I gave in and made the purchase. And a week or so later I had my lovely little set waiting for me in the mail box. So pretty, so new, and with its own special place on my shelf. Expensive? Yes. Worth it? Uh-huh.

But then, I was further propositioned by Amazon with another deal of the day a few weeks later. The complete series of Angel, for the same ridiculous discount. I haven't even seen all of Angel, but I knew I wanted it, being the spin-off of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which I already own. And somehow, not having seen the series made me want it more, because it made me want to watch it, and there was no other way to do it. So I gave them another $50 of my money and anxiously awaited another package. It does concern me that perhaps some of my motivation was to make walking to the mail box more exciting, but I don't think that would be enough for someone like me to want to spend money. The gorgeousness of David Boreanaz is a much more likely culprit.

Now, if I start getting e-mails from Amazon about Doctor Who specials or discounts on NCIS, I'm going to have to call in reinforcements, because that will be going one step too far. I did find a flyer for Arby's in my door, so maybe now I'm being stalked by fast food vendors, which might actually be worse. I can look at my shelves and still feel good about my purchases, but I probably wouldn't say the same thing about the crumpled-up wrapper of a cheeseburger.

You Know You're a Cat Lady When...

I'm currently transitioning a cat that lived at my dad's house to my mom's house. She's been inside for about two weeks, to make sure she doesn't run away and try and return to her old home. The first day she was confused and sniffing around, and spending a lot of time in the chair I brought over to give her something that 'smelled' right. I was feeling very guilty at the trauma I had exposed her to.

But now, she is perfectly well adapted to the new house, explored every last corner, and she's itching to go outside. Itching, scratching, meowing, she's ready. But I'm not.

I've let her outside twice now. Both times I've followed her around and then brought her in after ten or twenty minutes. I'm starting to think that if I ever become a mother, I'll be the one sitting outside of Pre-K, chewing their fingernails and bursting through the door after half an hour to take the kid home. That's enough, let's go home! See what I mean? Cat lady. Whenever you can link your treatment of your cat to a child, it's time to rethink the warning signs and take control of your life. Before you become a Mother Goose rhyme.

Of course, there are legitimate concerns. I don't want her getting lost, etc. And because she tends to shuffle off any collar around her neck, she has no ID, which brings nightmares of someone else taking her in or taking her to a shelter. But, as is my wont, these rational issues become irrationally dangerous in my mind. I think one of the drawbacks of working at home is that you interact more with cats than with people.

So I'm trying to take a step back and force myself to open the door. These are the trials and tribulations of a freelance writer.

Invoices 101, and Other Classes I WIsh I Had Taken

So, I just made up an invoice for a month of corporate blogging. And I kept thinking, "This shouldn't be this hard. I should already know how to do this? Why don't I know how to do this?" It's just another one of those things that we all are expected to know, but no one teaches us. And it's kind of annoying. Paying bills, serving bills, these are the things we really need to know, but they are treated both like secrets and common knowledge. You either just don't need to know, or it's ridiculous and pathetic that you don't. There's no actual period when you are supposed to learn.

Thank God for Word having examples for me to fill info into. That solved a few of my problems. Some, however, appear to have no template.

Like rates. What does one charge for freelance writing? Apparently if you're a scab, you go for a penny a word or less. If you're awesome, you get a few bucks or more. I'm currently going with ten cents, or six if pushed. I just have no idea. And no one will give me the straight answer. It used to be a buck a word for magazines, but that was years ago and now writing is worth what a random, non-English speaker is willing to charge. How am I supposed to make sure I'm not expensive, but not setting myself up for permanent Mom-residence? I have loans coming into repayment, I'm not just going to work for the sheer thrill. But I'd rather have a little money than none. It's a financial and moral dilemma, because underselling yourself is setting a bad industry precedent. I don't want to be a scab!!!

So after having navigated cover letters, I've got these terrible questions to ponder. And soon there will be fantastic taxes to decipher, and at some point I'm going to need a 401k. Where were these classes? Why did I go through two years of Calculus, but absolutely no real life training? Particularly for Sarah Lawrence students, who might need to make unconventional choices and fend for themselves while everyone else realizes how awesome we are. Hey, it's the humor that helps us through these troubled times...