Writings of...the unemployed

I am still jobless.

Well, scratch that. I have a part-time job that I love - teaching color guard to loving high school students. But it pays very little, so I'm trying to find something else. Anything else, really. I'm living at home, and though I am grateful to have a home, I am tiring of it. I would love to have an apartment, but right now that's not just feasible.

So what do I do?

I obsess about the band show this year (which ends in two weeks), I troll Craigslist, I knit a LOT, and have I mentioned that I look at Craigslist?

I know a job will come along. It will be the right job for the time, even if it only fulfills my bank account and not my soul. Teaching guard takes care of the soul-fulfilling part. It's just hard to be patient, especially when NPR pieces talk about how the economy is not just getting any better. Thanks for that injection of hope, employee-of-NPR.

But I will keep up hope!
While I fill out another job application...

Summer has gone and past

This summer was difficult on many levels. I was aging out of an activity that I have watched or participated in for a long time. It was my last time to do it, and I couldn’t participate in the way I wanted to. My knee was not going to let me march in the color guard, and I was given the opportunity to backfield conduct whenever needed. So I stepped into another role – one that was entirely foreign to me. Most of the members didn’t know my history, one that was full of color guard and not being a drum major. They were unforgiving, usually frustratingly so, and there were times I wish I was just watching from the sidelines instead of waving my arms around, trying to keep time. But in the end I was told that I did a fabulous job, and somehow all the other frustrations melted away.

While I was away playing bando for the last time, Jennifer got sick. She had a lump on her thyroid that was biopsied and deemed pre-cancerous. Somehow during meetings with countless doctors, it was decided her thyroid needed to come out. After surgery, the surgeon told her parents that it was most likely cancer, and a test would truly determine it in a few days. Sure enough, it had been cancer. The most used treatment for thyroid cancer was removal of the thyroid, which had just occurred. She still will undergo a radiation treatment just to make sure it is really all gone, but the prognosis is good. However, being apart from her during all this was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. She is my sister, and I couldn’t stand being away from her. I have never wanted to leave drum corps so badly. I did take a half-day once we were back in the area to go see her, and I needed that badly.

And while there were times this summer that I either was ready to give it all up or really excited that this was the last year (think: four days of practice in Oklahoma in July), anyone in the corps can tell you I cried the entire last day. On finals day, I cried in horn arc during practice, during the final run, on the bus to warm-up, during warm-up, on the bus to the dome, in the tunnel, during the pre-show, during the ballad, during the Old Man River hit at the end, marching off, during the Jolesch picture, during retreat, on the bus back to the housing site, and finally during the last playing of the Tennessee Waltz by the 2010 MCDC hornline. And while my eyes were swollen the rest of the night, I didn’t cry anymore. It could have been dehydration, but looking back, I think I was just really happy to spend time with those people for one last evening.

Now I’ve spent six straight days on the couch, recovering from knee surgery #5 (five is a lucky number, right?). There was a mess of scarred tissue and my kneecap was tracking incorrectly, so the doctor went in and fixed it all. While surgery itself went well, the aftermath was a bit of a nightmare. I have fully body tremors when I come out of anesthesia, so they gave me Demerol to combat those. Lots of Demerol. And morphine. And hydrocodone. Well, Demerol makes me sick, so after they had managed to get my drugged self in a wheel chair, I managed to throw up in a wheel chair wedged in a sliding door. My mother promptly drove me home (pulling over whenever I yelled that I was going to be sick) and I passed out on the couch. Yesterday I actually went out into society (doctor’s appointment, CVS, and a high school soccer game) and was sore and exhausted last night. So today was an easy day – just the dentist. However, tomorrow I will be going to physical therapy and band practice (finally).

And once again, I am riding solo (this is the newest catch phrase of the latest rappers). This came as a bit of a surprise, but I’ve learned recently that if I just roll with the punches of life and stop complaining, everything tends to work out for the best. So hopefully that’s the case this time too.

My plan once I become slightly more mobile and can drive myself around again (I hate needing a taxi family member) is to get a job – any sort of job. My loan payments start in November, and I don’t want to dip into my measly savings account to pay on those. Plus, I wouldn’t mind something not so serious (read: not a desk job) as I would like to continue teaching my girls at Franklin. Again, I’m trying to roll with the punches. We’ll see how long that lasts.

All my bags are packed. I'm ready to go.

Thank you, John Denver, for setting my mood this afternoon.

I am taking a breather to sit on the couch and take care of all my last-minute electronic forms of communication. Tomorrow is the departure for the rest of the summer. Music City Drum Corps is moving into Bethel University in McKenzie, Tennessee, for two weeks of practice before embarking on a country-wide tour.

My emotions are mixed. I'm excited, obviously, to participate in this wonderful activity again, especially in a new venue. This year, I'm assistant drum major; I stand there and wave my arms, hoping that everyone follows the tempo I set (or something like that...). I'm sad, however, because this is the last year I'll perform. DCI (Drum Corps International) has an age limit of no one 22+ before June 1st. Now, I don't think my body could handle another summer, even if I'm fairly stationary while I wave my arms around. Yet my career with DCI has been fulfilling on levels I never expected, and I'm sad to see it come to an end. I will also miss my friends here and my high school guard that I feel like I'm abandoning.

So besides this crazy week of prep work for leaving, I have been trying to soak up the most out of my abbreviated summer vacation. I taught some high school guard, swam a bit, made numerous Sonic runs, took a road trip to see The Boy, turned 22, and worried about my state of unemployment. I am planning on hitting up the job market once I return as an ageout from DCI, but if the job market doesn't drastically change in six weeks, I may be unlucky, like most of the country appears to be.

So whenever I write here again, I will (hopefully) be tanner and skinnier. I will also be much sadder, as my career as a performer in drum corps has come to an end. However, come August there will be a sense of change and upheaval that, while terrifying, fills me with infectious excitement about the future. Let's just hope that feeling lasts as I fill out job applications.

Well, it happened.

I have graduated from college. While the actual day of graduation was stressful and frustrating, I did indeed walk across a stage and receive my degree (sort of). I'm still waiting for my actual diploma, but such is life. I do indeed have a degree, just not the paper that it's printed on.

I am living at home. I unpacked, sorted through, and have gotten rid of most of the stuff I owned. Clothes that I never wore and items from my childhood that I do not need are sitting in bags in my living room, creating obstacles for my blind dog to trip over. My room is surprisingly bare, and the once busy walls are now painted a soothing tan. I miss my old beach theme, but this room will last until my parents move out, whether I am sleeping in it or guests are.

Drum corps starts in a little over a week, and while excited, I'm apprehensive as well. I just hope my joints can hold up. It's my age out, and I want so badly to participate fully this summer. If my knees make it this one last season, I promise I will go easy on them in the future.

It has not totally sunk in that this fall, for the first time in 17 years, I will not be going to school. Hopefully, I will have some sort of job, even if it's not a career. But I will not be forced to read things I do not want to, nor will I have to deeply analyze what I read. It seems crazy, that all of a sudden I have so much free time and no academic obligations. I have a feeling that my sense of "grown up-ness" will sink in much more in August than it is right now.

Goodbye, March

It's hard to imagine that March with all its thirty-one days is finished. April looms ahead with papers, deadlines, books to read, and the final reading/study day of my college career. However, the start of April looks to be beautiful, as March is finishing up nicely. The weather here is perfect - sunny, slightly breezy, and warm. If April promises to start as nicely, then good riddance, March. You were rainy, cold, and stressful.

I feel like recently, there have been chinks taken out of my faith in humanity. The lies, cheating, and scandal that have become commonplace headlines are just a part of it. I don't want to discuss my feelings for health care bill or any actual political views, but the lack of civility by demonstrators on both sides saddens me. Have we lost all humanity that we cannot hold discussions on our differing opinions without resulting to death threats, spitting, and throwing bricks? I am all for being passionate about what you believe, but please, do it with a grain of civility. If this is a shadow of how we will behave in the future, I do not want any part of it.

However, whenever I feel like I am surrounded by the news of negativity, the little actions of friends and strangers always cheer me up. Whether I read about a good Samaritan in the paper or someone holds the door for me instead of letting it fall in my face, those moments restore my faith in humanity.

So here's to the closing of March and the promise of a busy but exciting April. I just hope the weather stays this nice the entire month.

And fire's a beautiful sound

I’ve been sick. I had some sort of nasty strep throat/sinus infection thing at the beginning of this previous week. The nurse practitioner gave me amoxicillin, so that quickly broke my fever. I still have some lingering congestion, but am feeling much better on the whole.

I have approximately four days (two days of class) until spring break. I need this break. I need to relax on the beach and not think about what defines Faulkner’s style, or trace the way causal reasoning develops in infants, or worry about whether the action in my story is blatant, or try and read more than my brain can hold, or whether everyone has emailed me submissions for the undergrad journal, or reading through proofs and looking for typos and spacing errors. I can read novels that I get to choose. I can eat without thinking about calories. I can be on vacation!

Next Saturday through Thursday, I will be journeying with my best friend and her family to Vero Beach, Florida. I’m excited about everything, even the twelve hour car ride. Then I come home to relax for a bit, spend some time with the Boy, help a little with drum corps camp, and enjoy life. Then it’s back to the daily grind of my last semester, but I’m not thinking about that

And jumping a head a bit, I have purchased my cap and gown for graduation. I went through "graduation central" to purchase it, talk with career services, pay to extend my university email, and fill out info for a door prize. So barring any unforeseen failures of classes, I'll be receiving my degree on May 8th. In a way, it feels so surreal - that graduation is actually here; these past four years have flown by. At the same time, I have put so much effort into these four years that I feel ready to move on to the next stage of my life. Grad school is not happening anytime soon, and I am perfectly okay with the thought of no more school for awhile.

One of my friends asked me a while back if I planned on living my whole life in Nashville. I answered that I didn't know, but the question made me think. What if I do spend my whole life in Nashville? It's always been home. Don't get me wrong - I love traveling and experiencing new places and events. However, there's such a feeling of homecoming whenever I make it back to the gentle, rolling hills of middle Tennessee. So is it bad if I end up calling Nashville and its surroundings "home" for my life?

As usual, those are the thoughts that have been clouding my mind recently. Now my brain is ready to receive some more thoughts. So until next time.

It has been brought to my attention that I have not updated this in quite some time. So here it goes.

I am in my last semester of college. With graduation in 3 months and 5 days, I feel the pressure to become an adult. Become an adult and make gigantic decisions about my future. I refuse. I do not refuse to grow up. Instead, I refuse to think that the decisions I make in the next coming months are worth more weight than the decisions I have made in the past four, past eight years.I remember how terrified I was when I was trying to pick a college. I was overwhelmed by the weight of the decision. But I received some very good advice then that went something like this: "This decision is no more important than what you will wear tomorrow or who you will sit next to at lunch. Just remember, whatever decision you make will be right. It will all turn out okay."

That's the approach I'm taking towards what I'm doing after graduation. I do know I am moving home so that I can march my very last summer of drum corps with Music City. I do know I am in charge of Franklin's guard program. I do know that I want to find something fulfilling and enjoyable with my next few months after drum corps. I need a job to pay my student loans. But it's hard to tell people my post-graduation plans when they ask. So I just give them the basic "find a job" answer. Or try to find a job.

I am not marching winter guard this year. It was the best choice for my health (saving my knees for the summer). I miss performing and bonding with people in the group, but I do not miss the stresses that came with marching, having only Sunday nights to do a weekend's worth of homework. I enjoyed sitting in the audience in the first show I attended. I was able to relax and soak up the performers' energy.

My senior seminar class is perhaps the most interesting class I have taken in my college career. We are discussing what is literature. We are reading all sorts of genre fiction. Genre fiction is the all the that are sold in Borders or Barnes & Noble but are not included in the "Literature" section (sci-fi, romance, mystery, action/adventure). It is really refreshing to be reading books that are not considered "literature" by those in the book world. The first book we are reading is Ilium, a sci-fi book based around the Trojan War that may or may not be taking place on Mars. It is a very intriguing read, and we're speaking about the qualities that do or do not make the work literature. I am excited for the rest of this class.

I am now at my friends' house, waiting for Pizza Hut to come. Don't usually eat pizza, but it's $10 for any pizza, any size. We're too cheap to pass up that.

(Hopefully I will be writing in this blog more often)