On the way to your calling or...

During pre-year RA training, there are lots of seminars, guest speakers, and topics that we discuss. During one of those discussions, one of the slightly less than memorable speakers said..."Are you on the way to your calling or are you practicing your calling on the way?" Are we in school or whatever stage in our lives just simply to get through it and have a better chance at achieving our dreams later? Or are we living every day with passion for what we love and what we believe in, no matter where we are or where we end up?

A good friend of mine is on the edge of transferring to another school because she thinks people aren't being real at Grove City College and no one wants to discuss deep personal things in their life. This might be in part because there are fewer people that share her kind of dreams here and therefore she feels alone. She has a good point to be aware of though. I would stake a bet that most of us let homework, school, and similar items take over at least 75% of our conversations. There might be a deeper problem here though, do we know what we are passionate about? Or are we even passionate about anything? Do we have role models, aspirations and dreams? Maybe no one that reads this will be able to relate, but this is how I am feeling.

As a freshman, nobody warned me to make it count. Nobody told me, "You're gonna hate your classes and forget why you're there. You're gonna pick whatever classes you hear are the easiest and worry constantly about getting a good grade. You're gonna forget about learning and focus on memorizing what you can before the exam." If I had heard that I would have been more cautious...or would I? Sometimes I wonder if coming to Grove City was a stupid move. I'm not someone who worries about getting the best grades and as long as I keep my grades above a 3.0 I feel satisfied. Sometimes I think Grove City is too hard for someone who wants to learn and experience, but not achieve the best grades. But sometimes I think a college like this needs people who are like me and even more extreme to be able to balance things out.

Maybe the professors could have made what we were learning more applicable, or maybe I am so confused as to what I want to do with my life that I don't know how to apply what I learn. Was college a waste of time, money, and skill? I hope it wasn't and I know there were some larger life lessons that I learned...but is that enough?

Pari(dise)

I decided to forget about the earlier blogs I had written prior to setting up on-line. Also I would love to be able to have my profession be a travel writer one day. This is my first attempt at travel writing:

France is its own world, much like any unique country that you go to. I have never taken French language classes, I knew only a few words and I have never been to France for more than two days prior to my little adventure this October. French words such as “bonjour,” “merci” or “bon appétit” always seemed like words only from fairy tales. Not real words, but some romantic expressions that don’t exist in real life. So when I hear them so commonly used in Paris, I feel like I am in a dream. I have a difficult time taking people seriously because I feel like I am watching people in a play and not really interacting with them.

I really got the romantic Parisian experience while I was there. Julianne, my best friend whom I was staying with, commented on how it is the end all American-dream to live in Paris. However, now that she herself lives there, she can testify that life still goes on and Paris isn’t all about walking along the Seine, writing in a journal and falling in love to “La vie en rose.” Although this truth struck me, I wanted to ignore that fact for the four days I had in Paris and live that stereotypic illusion. While Julianne went to her fashion school classes, I sat in a little café and read while I predominantly “people watched.” There are a few things that stuck out to me right away. Parisians do not ever wear sweats and sneakers, not even on their “fat days” or “lazy days.” Every Parisian seems to have their own style and they are very much stylish in general. Every girl seems to have been taught how to walk like a model in heels and every boy seems to know how to coordinate a button-up shirt and scarf from the time they are able to walk. Fascinating, I thought.

I am back from Paris now and although I enjoyed myself, it is not the prettiest and romantic place on earth as many people imagine. The language helps, and the old buildings, the flower boxes on the window sills of every apartment, the artists painting on the corner, and the amazing varieties of cheese, bread, and wine are all wonderful. But to me Paris is another confusing big city with its pleasant and unfriendly people crowded into a subway train. The Eiffel Tower was once thought to be so ugly that it should be torn down, until they decided to turn it into a radio tower so it would at least have a practical purpose since it did not possess any beauty. I think the reason I like it is because of the way the lights seem to twinkle like a Christmas tree when you walk down the Seine towards it. Many people that live in Paris say that they have never even been up the tower and have no desire too.

Always remember that when you meet a French person for the first time, they expect to be greeted by you with a kiss on both cheeks. My roommate says it’s called “les bisous” but I wouldn’t know the difference if she was wrong. The first evening I was in Paris, Julianne took me to a church meeting with her that was completely in French and lasted 2 hour or more. I had never met a French person before and I was not prepared for the “kiss-kiss” that I was receiving from every person, male or female. I was not quite a pro, especially when caught off guard by the first kiss-kiss, but I got the hang of it after about 10 almost-kisses that could have been only slightly more awkward. Here is the technique: Most people prefer to go right to left (know this or you may both go left and kiss on the lips). You just touch cheek to cheek and make a kiss noise on one side and then the next. Simple as that, so don’t screw it up!

Flight Thought

10/21/2009 10:11:04 PM

So…airplanes… what do people think about them? Those who fly all the time, like my father, seem to not really enjoy the experiences any more. Those who rarely travel either find them scary or they think that it is the experience of a life time. It’s pretty interesting though if you think about it. I head a TV comedian say once about people “these days” that are so impatient that they can’t wait for their cell phone to connect to send the text message. He said people complain about a flight being delayed and takes 3 or however many hours to get to Los Angeles. He said, let’s think about back when it took 30 YEARS to get to LA and you started out with one group of people and got there with a completely different group of people because of malaria or typhoid or whatever. A PLANE…you’re in a CHAIR in the SKY! A good challenge I think because we are all just too impatient “these days.” One of the things I hate most about plane rides is the lack of privacy. And I don’t mean people invading your space or having to share a bathroom or having to breathe everybody else’s air. I mean the fact that I can’t sing out-loud to the song I am listening to on my iPod. Yes, that is the thing that annoys me most about plane rides, car rides, and just about any transportation ride that I have to share with other people that I don’t feel comfortable singing in front of, which by the way is most people. I LOVE driving myself home from school alone so I can turn on my favorite music and sing at the top of my lungs with nobody else hearing. Also, I am one of those people that as long as I am in tune I can imagine that the artist’s voice is my voice and I think that I have such a great voice as a result.

I love music. I am not one of those people that walk around with head phones in my ears all day. I don’t wear slightly hippy clothes and carry around a guitar with band stickers all over it either, partly because I don’t play any instrument and I have never really been one to like “bands.” But I LOVE music. I find every excuse to listen to it and usually it prevents me from doing what I should be doing, such as homework or talking to my mom in the car or hanging out with friends, because I just want to listen and sing along. As a result I don’t really like concerts all that much. I am not going to friends, drinking, special effects, or dancing or anything except listening to the music and singing along, not screaming along and having your ears ring when you leave. Coldplay, right now, is tempting me beyond belief to burst out into song all over this plane and crush anyone’s impression that they may have had that I was a quiet and mature woman, sophisticatedly traveling to Paris, probably on business…with my 4-year old book bag. That is another problem I have right now. I worry so much about the impression I am giving people that I don’t know. I have dreamed ever since I was a little girl that one day I would be that business woman traveling on the plane in her heels, dark tights, and business suit to some professional location where she would conduct her meeting and rapture all of her employees as she spoke with grace and confidence. Anyway, that dream died when I bought a yellow and red PUMA book bag in Taiwan this summer that should be donated to the nearest pre-school as soon as possible. However, I like the book bag, which says more about my actual maturity level and the possibility of me actually becoming that business woman any time soon.

So…I am on the plane on my way to Paris for 4 days and I have to do homework. My senior business plan is due the day I return from Paris and I have a ton of financial numbers to create, materialize, generate, fashion, construct, any word you can think of that implies a number close to what might be the actual number for a traffic control company financials. I’ll let you know how it goes. Maybe I’ll even post some of them so you can me extremely impressed with my work. But maybe you won’t be now that I have told you my secret about them. Wish me luck.

The Beginings of a Non-Journalist

5:27AM - That's what my computer is telling me. My body is telling me I haven't had enough sleep. My brain is telling me I've had 2 hours.

The way I do things is sort of funny. At the times when I most need to concentrate on something to get it done, those are the times when I feel the need to do anything else except the thing that needs to be done. It is 5:30AM now. I have a Entrepreneurial Finance test at 11:30, Entrepreneurial Solutions to World Poverty test at 2:30, and the majority of my senior business plan due at 6:30 today, yet I decided to start a blog. I have been wanting to start a blog for a while because I tried it this summer and loved it, so I wanted to see what nonsense I could spew out onto the World Wide Web that maybe one day will be quoted in a research project of some unfortunate freshman philosophy major that either thinks the cookie monster has philosophical insight or has yet to be taught the definition of a scholarly web source. (Although, I am pretty sure I have quoted blogs before.)

The thing is, this is not the first installment of my blog. I have written two others already in various places after I decided I wanted to start writing a blog. One, I wrote in a seminar on internet technology of which the majority I cannot remember, the other of which I wrote in church one day, vaguely related to the sermon topic, but as you can guess I don't have complete notes from that sermon on hand. I will probably add those to this blog next, but one can never tell when they are not right in the head what they will do when they are right in the head (meaning when I get sleep.)

One more thing before I delve into the secrets of solving world finance... I want to explain the title of this post. I have decided that a blog bridges the gap between journaling and journalism. For the most part blogs can remain private works, especially if you have no friends, but then again you are making them available for anyone on planet Earth that has a wire within a hundred miles of them, so it could be considered journalism. Sometimes I dream of becoming a journalist. For those of you who don't know, I am a Entrepreneurship major and the closest thing to a journalism class that I have taken is Business Ethics in which we were required to keep a journal on our own ethical quandaries. So what I am writing here is non-journalism, which I believe I explain in more detail in my first actual post written prior to this one in a tiny notebook somewhere floating in the unorganized universe of my book bag. 5:46AM - signing out!