“You seem like a good fit”…and other misleading affirmations/sentiments

To quote a previous post, “holy shit you guys, it’s May already”. This sentiment has remained relevant, as April has once again eluded me. Last April I spent a week in Spain, to visit a good friend. We frolicked around … Continue reading

Chronicles of a kinda sorta adult

Hey there!

Just checking in to let you all know that I still care about this blog/website (i caved and spent $18 to own the vinoandvisas.com url). Truth is I’ve kind of been too preoccupied mentally to take time and write about my life. This may seem sort of counter intuitive for a writer, because it seems like all successful writers journal their hardships and then turn them into great pieces of work. But I guess that’s kind of my problem. I don’t really consider myself to be a real writer. This insecurity kind of doubles as a defense mechanism, because if I don’t take myself too seriously then I can easily brush off criticism or even compensate for skills that I am lacking.

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Everyone knows the best way to get rid of your problems is by singing a dramatic ballad in the tub à la Mariah.

This strategy has worked really well for me. I’ve always just written for fun and shared my work, because the feedback I was getting was overwhelmingly positive and TBH it made me feel kinda good about myself. Now, what I’ve discovered is that as someone going on interviews and trying to enter a specific track in the work-world, you kind of have to take yourself seriously.

Since the likelihood of getting my dream job of writing for Food and Travel magazine like Bon Appétit right out of college is not very high, I’ve been trying to fit myself into different, more practical molds. This has translated into countless keyword job searches in San Diego and Los Angeles, such as: digital marketing jobs, social media manager jobs, copywriter jobs and editorial assistant jobs. So far, what i’ve found is that there are a lot of these jobs, which is great, BUT there’s always a catch. I’m either under qualified because I’m not a Journalism major (even though I’ve been writing for a newspaper for 3 years) or I don’t have enough technical skills such as graphic design or previous marketing experience.

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I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m just frustrated. I feel happy and sad, confident but anxious, jaded yet hopeful. Maybe these conflicting emotions are a side-effect of Senioritis. Or maybe, just maybe, all these emotions that I feel ALL THE TIME are a result of me growing up into the kinda sorta adult that I can feel myself becoming. I’m experiencing the joys of adulthood, i.e. going out to drag shows and dancing the night away. Then also, the not-so-fun parts of adulthood, i.e. realizing that you have no money and can’t really afford your new-found legality, because you are indeed still a full-time student and only make $12 an hour at your part-time job.

I don’t know, man. This kinda sorta adulting is getting a little old. I’m feeling like I’m ready to escape this limbo of uncertainty and mature from a kinda sorta adult into a full-time adult. I know adulthood is definitely not as great as it’s cracked up to be…but, I think I’m ready for the responsibilities.

I’m at the point in my life where I want, need and feel like I deserve both that $6 bottle of Primitivo AND the Dark Chocolate Almond Bark at Trader Joe’s. Frankly, if I can’t afford that, I don’t really see the point of it all.

*yes, i’m aware that i’m being dramatic.

Seasonal Neurosis.

I go through this phase about four times a year, when I try and figure out what I really want in life and think way too hard about how hard it may or may not be to achieve these goals.

I’ll go ahead and diagnose me now. I’ve got seasonal neurosis. I get obsessive compulsive about things that are far ahead in the future and try to work on achieving those things instead of working on the present tasks at hand. I’d like to think of it as a trait of all successful people; I mean come on, Woody Allen became famous for his neurotic humor and Leonardo DiCaprio has claimed that he’s neurotic and OCD in many Hollywood Access interviews (the most credible source, as we all know). Really, what the deal is that it’s just me tricking myself into thinking I’m being productive by thinking about everything that could be, while procrastinating things like studying, working out, responding to emails, etc.

totally reasonable thought process.

It all starts with a few google searches: “writer jobs in los angeles, new york city, san francisco and san diego”. That then turn into a few more: “how much should I earn after college?”, “travel writer jobs”. Then it spirals so far-fetched: “can you get health benefits from blogging?”, that somewhere, mid-way through I get so overwhelmed that I look up recipes for ungodly amounts of time.

The problem with me is that I don’t really know what I want to do, but I’m open to a lot of things and also want a lot of things. This is not some novel revelation. I’ve had conversations about this with my mom and best friends countless times. So, why do I keep thinking about it? It’s because I kind of have high expectations of me. I picture myself not too far down the road in a badass classily cut dolce and gabbana dress, being the boss of my own company or at my book signing.

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I guess I fear that if I don’t start figuring out now how I can get to the point, i’ll some how be wasting time. Obviously, I need to enjoy the present and not let the image of me in dolce hinder me, rather, motivate me to do really well at what I’m doing now. It doesn’t matter how far worrying helped Woody Allen’s career, it’s not going to get me anywhere.

lots of love,

S

xxx

OMG You Guys I exercised will power and it worked…who knew?

Something weird happened to me today, you guys…I listened to my body.

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I listened to my subconscious instead of giving in to my inner evil spawn and I exercised mental will power. This may not seem like a big deal, but it totally is for me. I usually just give in to whatever my body wants and just shrug my shoulders and think “you can’t go against nature”. In reality it’s all a load of bull — it’s just the excuse I use to justify my decisions.

Anyway, after I ate dinner, I really wanted something sweet. But, sad story is that we didn’t have anything in our apartment. I was forced to wait it out until my roommate wanted to go to the market. The only thing I had remotely dessert-y was the fresh greek yogurt from the farmer’s market, which is super good, it’s just not sweet. But, I was like c’mon you can wait an hour and I’ll go get yummy stuff to put in it. So, I go to the market with my roommate and she bought ice cream and right as I was about to go soft and buy ice cream too, I remembered that fresh greek yogurt that my grandma bought me. And I was like NAH…Grandma greek yogurt trumps store-bought ice cream.

I got home feeling wonderfully superior and created a culinary masterpiece that I will call, Better-than-Bitching Out Greek Yogurt:

How to make: Slice up a couple strawberries and frozen dates. Toss the fruit into the greek yogurt and drizzle with honey and add a bit of granola or cereal. BAM, there it is.

It’s crazy good, hope y’all try it when you’re feeling adventurous 🙂

You Get More Flies with Honey

Debbie Downer

Debbie Downer (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I feel like people take positivity for granted. I’ve come to the unfortunate realization that positivity is not universal. In general I am pretty happy person. Sure, I dish out my fair dose of sarcasm, but it’s always lighthearted. There are just some people that let the weight of the world bring them down and then spit their negativity out at anyone who will listen.

I’ve decided that I’m done with it. I don’t want to be a negative asshole. I know people who are that way and I can’t stand spending more than 5 minutes listening to them ramble on about how Obamacare is going to ruin our country or how my generation is full of degenerates. No more generalizations, they’re not fair to that shiny happy person out there that works hard to look at the bright side.

I’m not saying we should be oblivious to the world around us, but there is a time and a place to talk about things and it never hurts to throw a positive spin on the matter, people appreciate it. No one likes a Debbie Downer, so just remember that when you’re about to say something negative.

Plastic Life

One of the hardest things in life is witnessing someone live a plastic life. What I mean is when a person is not secure enough with their own thoughts and emotions that they create a superficial persona and live their life as that person instead of who they really are. Unfortunately, I have witnessed this more often than not from people around me and just in general. As an observer, I find it to be a very strange way for one to choose to live their life. By creating their faux-world they create a false sense of happiness and can’t enjoy the simple wonders of life. Personally, I feel it is my moral obligation to think as freely and as often as possible and share the thoughts that I think others should know. I believe in being reflective and thoughtful about my day’s events, because I feel that reflecting upon these things teaches you about yourself. I feel like life is just to short to not be who you are and not to do the things that make you happy. I am not a religious person, but recently I have been educating myself about spirituality and finding your place as a greater part of the cosmic world. I have come to the conclusion that I am a spiritual person. I believe that things happen for a reason, I believe in the yin and yang, and in being aware of your karmic relevance. Being spiritual, in my opinion is far more powerful than being religious — you can go to church every Sunday and still not understand how to be spiritual. I feel it is something you learn when you are in touch with your thoughts and emotions and understand that your existence is small, but with it comes great responsibilities to act in a kind and thoughtful way. If you live a plastic life you can not be spiritual. You deny yourself the powerful to search for inner peace, which is a damn shame.