Going to School (Post College)

So I graduated a while ago. I did class, wore the silly hat, walked the stage, and found a career. I thought that I was done with school, but as a young professional, I’ve now found out otherwise.

While I work in marketing, my degree is actually in journalism. I thought that I would work for a wonderful paper or magazine and just write day and night, but then, very quickly, papers and magazines starting shutting down, no longer able to stay in business again the internet. So what is a newly graduated journalism student to do in this scary world of adulthood.

I got into marketing.

Okay, technically I got into administration first. I few many things career wise as stepping stones, starting somewhere until I’ve gained the right amount of skills and knowledge to move onto the next task of position. I figured that administration would give me the experience in an office, as well as improve the communications skills that had been preached to me for the last 4 years. This was how I ended up in the A/E/C industry (architecture/engineering/construction) where I’m fairly sure I will never leave from.

I worked as a receptionist/administrative assistant for a wonderful architecture firm here in Seattle for about 3 years and while I was there, I was exposed to the marketing side of the industry. The fun of company advertising, the artistry of proposal writing, the exhilaration of winning the job. I wanted that. I wanted to experience all of those things for the rest of my career and after months and months of searching, I finally found my position as Proposal Coordinator for my current company.

One of the perks that my company has offered to me is continuing education through a marketing group that I joined and for the last 3 weeks (as of today), I have been working to grow my skills and knowledge yet again.

I’m finding myself in a weird mindset on days that I have class. I’m so excited about the topics and speakers, but the young truant in me whispers “skip… SKIP!”. I always fight the urge and enjoy my class of course.

In high school, I didn’t take notes. Now I do.

In high school, I skipped class constantly. Now I don’t.

In high school, I didn’t care about succeeding. Now I do.

Maybe its just part of growing up, you recognize what’s important in life and what you have to do to move forward. I care so much now about how I do in life and I want to take all the steps that I have to so that I can have the life I want to live.


I’m going to post about my class again once it’s all said and done, but until then I’ll continue to work hard and try to move forward. I refuse to let my old ways hold me back again. I will use what I learn and succeed because of it.


Yoga Kicks My Ass… and I Like It

Have you ever done something that you knew was going to suck but you did it anyway? That made you suffer but you go back day after day? That makes you feel like you’re becoming Zach from The Try Guys while you do it, but then you come out looking like fucking Eugene?!

This is hot yoga and I am a yoga masochist.

I started going to yoga when I was in middle school per the request of my mother who didn’t want to do it alone. The tiny studio in the corner of the crappy gym was not exact a selling point to a 12 year old, particularly one who was blooming into her teen angst early, but I did love the exercise. It was calming and everyone was fairly intense about not being too close together so you always had room to move, and fall in my case.

Throughout the next 15 years, I would continue my on-again, off-again affair with yoga, from skipping it every day that I could in high school (asking an anti-social 18 year old to do yoga at 8am every morning just won’t work out for anyone), to trying hot yoga for the first time while trying to past the lonely nights when my husband worked until 1am. I constantly fell out of love with yoga, but I have always come back to it, time after time.

When I decided to start my journey of changing my life and myself, I knew that I wanted to go back to hot yoga and really dedicate to it. Having had so many injuries to my back, ankles, and shoulders, I knew the heat would be like pouring unicorn blood on my joints and perhaps keep me going back over and over. I ended up trying a studio near my work and after getting past the first few classes and feeling absolutely horrible, the endorphins kicked in and I was able to appreciate much more than just the workout that I was getting.

My teachers don’t just lead us through moves and positions, but teach us so much more. They discuss respecting ourselves and doing yoga with an intent, whatever that may be. That the energy we put into our practice can also be energy we put towards other things and have the same positive feeling and results. That we can learn to love and take care of ourselves so that we can love and help take care of others.

As someone who never learned growing up how to be emotionally supportive of myself, learning these practices now is teaching me to be better and care about myself more. I don’t think I would be trying as hard as I am to make my life better if these ideas hadn’t been presented to me. It has given me the tools to love myself and be proud of myself now, as well as who I will become in the future.


I Just Can’t Seem to… SQUIRREL!

I can’t focus and I’ve had a hard time doing so over the last few weeks. I’m the type of person that takes great pride in getting shit done, whether it be in my personal or professional life. I believe that everything should be earned and love when things I do and create make other people happy and make their lives easier.

Remember that scene in The Devil Wears Prada where Andy pulls off the amazing Harry Potter book magic (which probably lost another person their job, lets be honest) and it fucking amazed Miranda so much that she even started to smile? Ya, I want to do that, I want to be the person who makes Miranda Priestly smile.


But now I seem to be going down in this rabbit hole of shiny things that won’t let me keep a thought longer than 10 minutes. Even writing this post is hard and writing is my favorite thing to do! It just makes me feel like garbage.

I know that I’m way too hard on myself sometimes and its a big reason why I’ve had so many personal issues in my life, but I can’t help it, its just how I am. I want to be perfect. I don’t even know what that means honestly…. I’m so critical of myself for things that I think are wonderful in other people that I don’t even know what perfect means, just that I want to be it.

I feel better about everything when I’m able to focus. Its nice to be able to take the time to process each thought and problem, to deal with everything in a logical order and then not have to give it a second thought later. Now everything keeps coming up at once, like waves that are just crashing down on me and I’m slowly drowning. I can see myself coming closer and closer to the anxiety covered rocks and I just have to figure out which way is up.

The reason that I started this blog was to motivate myself and gain some insight on my feelings and thoughts. Sitting here now, taking the time to write something and think, I feel like the best way above the water is to just calm down and let myself float to the top. The last 2 weeks at home and work have just been insane with so much to do and a pressure I put on myself that I am the only one that can do it all. The only time I haven’t thought about deadlines, dishes, laundry, and cooking has been when my friends come over and for those few hours, I can focus. I’m able to have conversations where I’m completely present and happy.

I think I just need to find a way to get some guilt free relaxation.