In the interim

Adventuring rule #23: Everything is a story. 

     

Several delightful and intriguing adventures have gone on in the time since my last post. Some deserve an entire post. Others can be summed up in a sentence. I'm making an active effort to live in the present, though, so it might not be possible to revisit every single one. What I can do is keep track of my current and ongoing adventures, and keep writing about them. 

     In the time since my last post, I've felt a little lost. I fell out of the habit of tracking my adventures, so there was nothing to go back and reflect on. I'm an introvert. We thrive on reflection and time alone to regroup. I've had plenty of time alone, but not much to look back over. It's time to get back on track with what makes me feel put together and whole. 

     For now, here's the short version and the highlight reel of adventures since last September, in no particular order. Did I forget something, friends? Leave me a note in the comments. 

Also, that top photo is by Lodi News-Sentinel photo Chief Dan Evans. We were on assignment. 

My happy place

Adventuring Rule #23: Leave the knowable safety of dry land. 

     So. It's official. I am an underemployed college grad living with my parents, writing my blog from my childhood bedroom. For a few weeks post Austria, I was able to blame jet lag and wanting to spend summertime with my family for my lack of a real job. This last week it finally hit me that this is my own choice. No one is going to seek me out to hire. This is my game and my life and I have to do it myself.  The bad news is that until I get that job and am able to move out, I am increasingly frustrated.

"Um, did you call a cop?" "Yes, please transfer it to my desk. Thanks."

Adventuring rule # 22:
Keep copies of these.
Maybe frame them. 

     In my journalism class at Lodi High, we had various newspaper people from the community come to talk to us about working in print media. One I remember clearly is Keith Reid. At the time, he was a reporter for the Stockton Record, the newspaper for the next town over. I don't remember much of what he said, only that he rarely smiled, had a subtle slouch and wore very heavy looking brown leather shoes. While he spoke, I got the impression that he didn't enjoy his job much.

     Perhaps he was particularly good at it or had years of experience behind him, and that was the reason he was taking up valuable class time we could have spent working on the current issue. In any case, what he said didn't amount to much in my 15 year old mind.

Dear Future Employers

Adventuring Rule #21: Do not settle. Everything is a stepping stone. 

To whom it may concern,

If you run a newspaper in California, I want to talk to you. Let me amend that to Northern California, or the Central Valley, or the Bay Area or the North Bay. California is a big place.

I am highly interested in the jobs you have listed on every journalism job listing site I could find via Google. You hear me? I want to work for you.

If you hire me, I will work really hard. I will not take sick days unless I am actually sick. I will not show up late. I will stay late. All of my work in high school and college was for this, to do this job. Those late nights to finish my pages or to send the whole issue off were all for this.

Unexpected guests

Adventuring rule #20: Stick around. There might be a parade. 

     At my nonexistent future wedding, I will anticipate a few cameras. Preferably in the hands of a professional photographer or my family and friends. Preferably not in the hands of a group of sweaty tourists, invading the church in the middle of the ceremony to impose their touristy selves on the most important day of my life. Apparently in Austria, this is not a problem.

     On a fabulous Sound of Music excursion, which throws about 30 tourists on a bus to visit the famous filming sites of the Julie Andrews musical, our final stop was the church at which the governess marries the captain. We are told, in no uncertain terms, that we are to view the church, look around at a shop and enjoy apfel strudel at a cafe and return to the bus by 5:15. Got it.

A different kind of commencement

Adventuring rule #19: Stick with your tribe. 

Note: This was written in an Austrian apartment with goat horns on the wall on the occasion of the premiere of the final Harry Potter film. Due to limited internet access, it was not possible for me to post at the time. I personally cried and gasped through the epic installment this past Friday and am now capable of addressing the transitional event. Photo courtesy of Kendall Fedor. 

     Today and for the rest of the night, social media outlets are abuzz with excitement. I anticipate more than one sighting of the Twitter failwhale. The demographic that uses these outlets the most is the same generation filled with bittersweet joy at the release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part II.

     In the interest of full disclosure, I have not attended every midnight premiere of the Harry Potter films. I was eleven years old when “The Sorcerer’s Stone” was released in theatres, and if I thought I was going to dress up in dark robes to go to a movie at midnight with my friends, my parents would have informed me I had another think coming.  

So maybe I thought it was Mothra

 

Adventuring rule #18:  Know your fears, so you can run away from them. 

     Here's a little known word fact for you. Phobia doesn't refer simply to a specific fear. It refers to an irrational fear. When one hears a mention of something called mottephobia, that suffix should flip a switch in the brain to indicate the explanation is going to be a little odd. The subject of this fear knows it is not sensible, not logical and somewhat immature to be held fast by this feeling. That knowledge does nothing to stop the sense of overwhelming helplessness and dread when faced with the cause of the fear: a moth, or even a butterfly. Please, laugh now and get it out of your system, because my panic is not something I can control.