25-By-25 Check In: 5 Months In

Five months ago, on my 24th birthday, I posted a list of 25 things I wanted to accomplish in the year leading up to my 25th birthday.

I had intended then to do quarterly check-ins, but the third month came and went. And then the fourth month. So now we're at the fifth month, and so I'm finally checking in.

With 7 months to go, I have completed the following:
17) Do 40 Days of Water for Blood:Water Mission. (I raised $116, and Kyle matched it!)
19) Go hiking. (A day trip earlier this spring. There are pics on Facebook!)
20) Spend a day alone, not at home. (This was one of the most profound things I've done in a while. The day before I did it, when I realized what was going to happen the next day, I was bitter about it. I was up in East Texas, and I was annoyed that I was going to accomplish the goal there rather than in Houston, or some other fun town. But in forcing myself to leave the hotel, I found out that you can't judge a town by its region or by its stereotypes. I wandered around Nacogdoches, finding sushi (yum), antique shops galore, and a whole new appreciation for small-town Texas. It turned out to be a great day, and one in which I really felt free to just be me, which was the whole point in putting it on the list.)

These are in progress:
1) Run a marathon. (Not literally in progress, but I'm training, and I've decided on my race!)
3) Read all 100 of Modern Library’s top novels. (The 5th out of the 100 is in my bag...admittedly, there's no way I'm going to complete this in 7 months. BUT I'm making progress, and maybe I'll tack on an extra couple of years to complete the goal.) 
8) Lose 20 pounds.


These are probably going to be stricken from the list (this year): 
2) Donate my hair to Locks of Love. (Based on recent experience, I recommend NEVER PERMING YOUR HAIR. Why did I do it? It's a long, long story that made sense at the time, and now, six months later, makes me want to shave my head. Thus, it will be cut and will not be long enough.) 
10) Go back to school. (The plan was design school. The current plan is gainful employment. I may take a class or two this fall. But it's no longer a goal per se.)
11) Build a dog house or bed for Bennet. (I don't need to anymore. Remember this?)
14) Take a photo every day. (I'm embarrassingly bad at this. I went four months without taking a single photo. No joke. So we're just going to let it slide.)
 
So what's left?
4) Learn how to swim.
5) Go on a wine tour.
6) Pay off my credit card debt.
7) Launch my Etsy shop & register my domain name.
9) Learn how to ballroom dance.
12) Commit to sustainable fashion: make or thrift all that I buy.
13) Start and keep a (real) blog (about more than just my rants/funnies).
15) Go horseback riding.
16) Fall in love.
18) Remember the Alamo (...and go visit it).
21) See the sun rise and set on the same day.
22) Learn how to surf.
23) Read the Bible all the way through.
24) Learn Spanish (oh, that my college courses had done any good).
25) Simplify.

What remains are mostly experiences that I just need to plan and do. Being broke and busy hasn't been extraordinarily helpful. But there's still time.

This weekend I finished reading Donald Miller's book, "A Million Miles in a Thousand Years." It was in reading it that I realized what I was doing with this list back in January -- I was laying the groundwork for an incredible story. I was saying, "I'm not content with just being. I want to do something great." Maybe I shouldn't have taken on so many things at once, but maybe that's the impetus I needed to do any of them. Sure, some just aren't going to happen. But that's part of the beauty of the list. My failures balance my successes, making them that much more awesome!

I think it might be a good day.

Last night I went to bed with this song in my head:

Can we pretend that airplanes
in the night sky
are like shooting stars?
I could really use a wish right now.

(wish right now, wish right now)
Can we pretend that airplanes
in the night sky
are like shooting stars?
I could really use a wish right now.

(wish right now, wish right now)

But then I woke up with this:

In your ocean, I'm ankle deep.
I feel the waves crashin' on my feet.
It's like I know where I need to be,
but I can't figure out, yeah I can't figure out
just how much air I will need to breathe
when your tide rushes over me.
There's only one way to figure out.
Will ya let me drown, will ya let me drown?

Hey now, this is my desire
Consume me like a fire, 'cause I just want something beautiful

to touch me, I know that I'm in reach
'Cause I am down on my knees, I'm waiting for something beautiful.
Oh, something beautiful.

And the water is risin' quick,

and for years I was scared of it.
We can't be sure when it will subside, 

so I won't leave your side, no I can't leave your side 
In a daydream, I couldn't live like this.
I wouldn't stop until I found something beautiful.
When I wake up, I know I will have,
no, I still won't have what I need.

Hey now, this is my desire
Consume me like a fire, 'cause I just want something beautiful

to touch me, I know that I'm in reach
'Cause I am down on my knees, I'm waiting for something beautiful.
Oh, something beautiful.

Can we pretend that airplanes in the night skies are like shooting stars? 'Cause I could really use a wish right now...

Exactly two months from today will be my first day as an AmeriCorps Alum.

I'm starting to wrap up projects at work, knowing that the next several weeks will be more about handing off my responsibilities than starting anything new.

At home, I'm applying for jobs.

A few weeks ago, I had a phone interview. Unfortunately, they were looking for someone to start sooner than I am available and so for that and/or other reasons, I was not selected to proceed in the interviewing process.

Tonight, I received another notice that I had not been selected for an interview.

I hate hate HATE job searching. I hate the fact that I have to represent myself with just a piece of paper, and no more. I hate waiting by the phone for someone to call, wondering if this one is going to come through or if I'll get another note in the mail addressed to "Applicant," thanking me for my interest and complimenting my "impressive" qualifications.

I want to move to Austin in September. I want to work for a non-profit, using the things I've learned over the last year and a half. I want a chance to prove myself, to learn, and to serve the world. I want to plan fantastic events and write charming, compelling letters to potential donors.

Two years ago this August, I traveled to Connecticut on my own dime for the only interview I'd been offered amongst some 150 applications. I wasn't offered the job and, in fact, the organization never even called/emailed/wrote to tell me that I hadn't been chosen. I followed up, as appropriate. They didn't.

It was the first time (outside of my love life, but that's a whole other story) that I'd felt the sting of rejection so deeply. NEVER had I struck out over and over and over again. I'm Carolyn, after all. Top of my class. President of every club I'd ever been in. Hello. Don't you know me? Don't you know that if you hire me, YOU win?

(Apparently, they didn't know that.)

I'm scared. I'm scared that in August I'll have nowhere to go. I'm scared that I'll end up back at my parents' house (don't get me wrong, I love my parents....but I'm not 17 anymore. I'd prefer not to live with them), working at the local Starbucks and just waiting for my break, while my relevant experience falls further and further into my past.

There are a couple of postings I was going to apply for tonight, but I think I need to step back and chill a bit. Nothing kills the job huntin' mood like a big fat NO in your inbox.



Unrelated side note:

Kyle, here's some proof your kitties are doing well while you're away:

Apparently my tote bag makes a cozy bed. And she bit me earlier. What a darling.

He wouldn't sit still for a good picture. This was shot #01837490650261 (roughly). And I have to know: did you name him Angus because he's black and white like a cow?

Because the resemblance is uncanny.



Disclaimer: I looked up "Angus Cattle" and found out that they're actually the all-black or all-"red" (brown) cows. Doesn't matter. My accusation suspicion innocent question still stands. 

Cow Picture Source

I Don't Think Sleeping Well Will Be a Problem Tonight

Ran tonight. Two miles total, with almost another mile walking. I haven't run in a couple of weeks (and not consistently for months), so that would have been enough to wear me out.

But no, I threw salt on an open wound: I rode my bike to the rec center.

Who is this girl? The one who kind of likes working out, really likes running, loves biking, and keeps pushing herself to do more, to be more, to not settle.

If the me of four years ago met the me of today on the street, Me 1.0 would be impressed by Me 2.0. She'd look at me and sigh, thinking, "Wow. She does stuff I could never do." Me 1.0 was not a runner, and didn't believe she ever would be.

Even recently, people have commented that I don't seem like a runner. But I guess that's part of the reason I'm doing it.

I've never been one to settle for other people's expectations of me. Tell me I can't, and I'll find a way to prove you wrong.

Even if it means running 26.2 miles.

Seriously. How cute is that?

Monday Mornings Should Be Banned.

I stayed up too late last night.

I was putting away laundry and making a running playlist for my iPod.

But then I when my alarm went off - barely more than six hours after I'd kicked Bennet off my pillow and crawled into bed - I hit the snooze and rolled over.

About five times.

Then I just re-set the alarm for another half an hour of uninterrupted sleep.

I should have just gotten up.

I'm tired. And getting in later than I'd intended. Which means I'll get out later. Which means I may have to fight little old ladies for the treadmill at the rec center tonight.

Oh, and I will fight.

Sunday mornings are my favorite.

This is Bennet.

You've met her before.

She's lived with me almost 9 months now, and just celebrated her 1st birthday!

When I first got her, she hated (HATED) the beach. The water was icky, the sand was icky, and she was mad at me for even thinking that she'd like it there. Which is unfortunate for a puppy who lives on an island in the Gulf.

Then, suddenly...

Whoa! She loves it.

She spent the morning chasing birds out to sea, and pouncing through the waves, and rolling through the seaweed.

She also nearly got snagged by a crab.

She blew past him the first time around, but I saw him and stopped to take a picture. Not surprisingly, juggling her leash, my running shoes, and my cell phone while also keeping her distracted and away from his deathly claws proved too difficult. So, no picture, but also no sidewalking sea creature attached to Bennet's little toes.

It was a great morning.

And tomorrow, I start training for a marathon.

Unorthodoxy threatens more than the life of a mere individual; it strikes at Society itself. (Huxley)

Last night I finished reading Brave New World, the third of 100 in my quest to read all of the Modern Library's 100 Best Novels.

I have to admit that I'm not loving this task.

This book, like the two others (I keep thinking this should be three...but I can't remember what the other may be) before it, ended tragically.

See, I'm the type of girl who names her dog after a Jane Austen character, who cries at every episode of the Biggest Loser, and who always always goes for a romantic comedy she's seen a million times over the new, edgy film that's supposed to be amazing.

Always.

So this whole death-or-lunacy-as-a-criticism-of-life-and-the-societal-norms-that-destroy-our-souls thing these "classics" have going on is quite a shock to my system.

Quite frankly, the message is lost somewhat on me. Sure, I have some societal angst. I wish life was more equal than it is. I wish that I had the freedoms and opportunities that wealth affords. I know that money gives some folks an easy excuse to treat their fellow humans with flippant contempt.

But I don't get these novels. I don't understand writing about these dark topics, without even a glimpse of hope. I don't understand how they became so well-esteemed, so classic, when the story lines are so depressing. Catcher in the Rye is hardly a book I want to run out and tell all my friends to read.

And maybe that's the point. Maybe they debuted into a world where the only real option for written entertainment was just that...pure entertainment. Nothing more. Nothing deep, nothing real, nothing that exposed the truth of humankind.

Maybe.

I've now moved on to Lolita. It's awful. I found out today, from Time Magazine, that it was first published by a pornographic press. Being already 9 chapters in, the news came as no surprise. The book is wretchedly graphic in describing Humbert Humbert's fascination with little girls, supposedly stemming from the loss of his first love and sexual encounter at the age of 13. And yet it's captivating. I breezed through the first several chapters (short as they may be) as if I were reading a magazine article. And I plan to finish the book.

I think my quest just to know more about these novels that have secured such a high place in society has turned into something even more -- a quest to understand what defines a classic.

I'm not sure if I'll ever understand.

P.S. Why am I still awake at 12:08am?? Oy.

On AmeriCorps

I am an AmeriCorps*VISTA. For more than a year, I have volunteered my time to serving residents of the Gulf Coast who were affected by Hurricane Ike.

A month ago, the rest of the AmeriCorps, which includes State & National, NCCC, and VISTA, celebrated “AmeriCorps Week,” an event intended to spread awareness and support for the national program.

I was supposed to put together a slide presentation of “A Day in the Life of a VISTA,” but I got busy with day-to-day work and forgot. Apparently, I’m not much of a photographer anyway; remembering to take photos all day proved more difficult than I had expected, even when I finally remembered that I should be doing it.

The result is that I’ve had a full month to think about my experience with VISTA, and to consider options for accurately expressing exactly what VISTA is and what it means to me.

To be honest, it wasn’t an easy thing to come up with. I’m not one to do things just because I’m supposed to, if there’s no other compelling reason for it. So even the day of photos I’d originally planned seemed like a shallow expression of my experience, and, in part, a dishonest representation.

I started my VISTA service on February 23, 2009, and in the last year and three months, I’ve seen the program from many angles, both good and bad. I’ve felt the sting of abandonment when everything is going wrong and nobody is fighting on my side, and I’ve also benefited from the support of a network of like-minded individuals all working toward similar goals.

About a year ago, I nearly quit. Three months later, after transferring to a different site, I elected to extend my service for an additional six months.

Being in AmeriCorps is difficult. My work schedule is that of a full-time, regular employee, but the monthly stipend barely covers expenses. At times, we’re trapped in a strange world somewhere between employee and consultant, without a full, clear idea of our role.

And yet I wake up every morning knowing that the work I’m doing is good. Living on a budget has taught me about what really matters. And my resume is suddenly chock-full of fantastic, real-life experience, preparing myself for a long career in the non-profit world (a career I hope to start with full-time pay in August).

In the end, I’ll be sad to leave the organization and programs I’ve spent the past 9 months working to develop. But I’m excited to take the experience and work for good in new ways. AmeriCorps*VISTA is my springboard; I’m about to hit the water with a splash.