Goal: Travel the World

While my sorority sisters were participating in wet t-shirt contests during Spring Break, I was sightseeing in Spain. The previous year I looked around London. Ever since I got my passport during my sophomore year of college (was I late bloomer?), I’ve made international travel a priority. In addition to Madrid, Seville, Granada and London, I’ve been to various cities in Israel, Australia and Italy, as well as our lovely neighbors, Canada and Mexico.

I doubt my thirst for travel will ever be satiated. There’s a time and place for relaxing on a beach, but I’d rather explore  narrow, cobblestone streets in historical cities and towns. I follow Rick Steves on Facebook (his tour guides are my bible), and I’m totally jealous that Anthony Bourdain gets to eat his way around the world on “No Reservations.” My dream job? Theirs!

In an ideal world, J and I would be able to spend a couple of months or a year living abroad (somewhere glamorous, not on a military base). If we had children at the time, even better. They – and I – would be able to learn a foreign language through immersion. (Really, all I’ve ever wanted is to have children who call me “Mum.” British is a foreign language, right?)

On my travel wish list: Paris, Amsterdam, Prague, Tokyo and Barcelona. Ireland. India. China. All over South America. Basically, the whole wide world. Who can blame me? There is so much culture to experience out there.

Where would you go, if you could?

(image by me of Florence in 2008, one of my most fav cities)

Goal: Become a Mom

When I turned 20 I assumed that within the next ten years I’d have at least one child. Well, I’ll be celebrating the big 3-0 in two short weeks, I can say with certainty that I will not be fulfilling my twenty-year-old self’s prophecy – not before I turn 30 and not in the next 9 months.

Still, I have babies on the brain. It seems that everyone I know is having a baby: high school classmates, friends from college, former roommates, Air Force wives, even bloggers I follow. I’m not gonna lie; it’s disappointing to me that I’m not where I thought I’d be at this point in my life, and I can’t help but feel a teensy bit jealous of my pregnant peers (but still very, very happy for them).

I have to accept that if it wasn’t meant to be in my twenties, it wasn’t meant to be. Despite the fact that everyone, including myself, seems to be obsessed with the idea of being a “young mom,” I have to remind myself that the right time to have a baby is when you are emotionally and financially ready, not just when you are a certain age (aka “under 30″).

But now my biological clock is starting to make some noise, and I can sense that my maternal and nesting instincts are warming up. I’m beginning to feel like I’m ready to enter the next phase in my life. So one of my goals for my 30s is to have a baby (and eventually one or two more).

Tick, tock…

(image by me of a friend’s baby, July 2009)

I spied these three trends on the red carpet last night:

1. Dresses with poofy/frilly/drapey bottoms
2. Oversized earrings
3. Bedhead

What were your favorite looks? Least favorites? Personally, I hated all of the messy, frizzy updos. And I didn’t think Sandra Bullock successfully pulled off those bright pink lips. Maybe she should have stuck with a more classic red.

(images via People.com)

My Past Accomplishment: Getting Paid to Write

Back in 2008, after quitting my full-time job, I began toying with the idea of opening a boutique, as owning my own business had always been one of my aspirations. Plus, I thought I could bring to Omaha something it was lacking. However, I knew I didn’t quite have the funds or the experience to be a store owner, so I began exploring additional ways to make a couple bucks. Freelance writing came to mind, and I came across a job posting on mediabistro.com looking for bloggers for a “saucy new women’s site.” (Actually, one of my friends might have sent it to me. Was it you, Lindsey?)

Having enjoyed writing my little blog for more than a year, I was excited at the opportunity to contribute to a national site. I used to dream of being a writer. When I entered Boston University as an eager freshman, I told my advisor I hoped to move to New York City after graduation and become an editor at a women’s or entertainment magazine. She quickly burst my bubble, informing me that I’d be a poor, struggling writer for a long time before I’d ever become a successful editor. I should mention that when we met, she had no idea who I was or whether I could even write. She was a published author who I suspected didn’t want anyone to reach the level of success that she had acquired. But I digress.

Encouraged by my closest friends, I decided to apply for the blogging position. I submitted a personal writing sample, brimming with my usual sarcasm, and I waited for a response. Eventually I received this email from the editor:

I loved your sample entry, and have been sitting here poring over what I want you to blog about for us: being a newlywed, being a city transplant to Omaha, being a military wife, starting a business, quitting your job… until I realized that all I need to know is that you should blog for us. About your life, if you’d be willing, and each week you could tell some story about any one of those aspects… I’d love it if you did one a week to start and then, if other topics piqued your interest, you could cover them now and then.

I got the gig! I couldn’t believe that I was going to a paid writer. Granted, I wouldn’t be making much, but I didn’t care so much about the money. It was the recognition that, yes, I have something interesting to say and people want to hear it. Still, receiving my first paycheck was such an amazing feeling. I got paid for doing something I loved. I was so proud of my accomplishment that I hung the check on the refrigerator for several weeks – until, of course, I realized I needed the money and deposited it.

Two years later I no longer contribute to the site, but it was still such a defining moment in my professional life.

(image source)

My Past Accomplishment: Leaving the Rat Race

After earning my degree in Mass Communications with a concentration in Public Relations from Boston University, it took me a couple of years after graduation to find a job I truly enjoyed – doing book publicity at Penguin Grop (USA) and DK Publishing. My enjoyment stemmed from the fact that I wholeheartedly believed in the products I was pushing. I’ve always been an avid reader, and who doesn’t like to know about the latest and greatest book?

When I moved to Omaha almost three years ago, I had difficulty finding a job. Since I couldn’t do exactly what I was doing back in New York City, I applied for publicity positions at advertising agencies. I thought it could be interesting to promote different products on a daily basis rather than all books, all the time. By the time I was hired almost 7 months later by a local agency, I was itching to get back in the game. Unfortunately, promoting health insurance and farm equipment companies proved less exciting than pitching bestselling books, and within a couple of months I became disenchanted with my job.

I understand that work is called work because it’s not necessarily fun, but I’ve always had a hard time sticking with things that don’t provide me any sense of enjoyment or fulfillment. I envy people who can work a grueling 9-5 job because they understand that the benefits – hearty salary or excellent health insurance outweigh the negatives. Unfortunately, I’m not one of those people. I’d rather make less money doing something I love, something into which I can throw all of my energy and passion.

With the support of my soon-to-be husband (emotionally and financially), I gave my two week notice and officially left the rat race for greener pastures shortly before my May 2008 wedding. Of course I was terrified to  leave, to enter the unknown. Did I make the right decision? Check back tomorrow to see what I’ve accomplished since I made my escape.

(image source)

This chic girl’s ability to pull off a mustard blazer and daytime sequins is quite impressive. She is quintessentially New York City, and I wouldn’t mind walking in her fabulous shoes for 24 hours.

(via The Sartorialist)

My Past Accomplishment: Finding Love When I Least Expected It

In the Spring of 2006 I was invited to a high school friend’s wedding – and I didn’t want to go. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to support her or to be part of the celebration. I was hesitant to attend because I was the only one of my group of friends not invited with a guest. It wasn’t an oversight; all the other girls were in serious relationships, and I was not. I was afraid I’d be the singleton sitting alone drinking at the table while all my friends danced the night away with their partners.

Thankfully, my mom and grandma talked me out of my pity party. They also persuaded me to wear a particularly sexy halter dress. “You never know who you’re going to meet,” explained my grandmother. Rather than doing the smokey eye and pale lip look, I tried a different route – black eyeliner and red lips. I bought a new pair of heels to go with my little black dress. It was a new look to match my new positive attitude.

I did spend the night drinking but not by myself. I also did more dancing than my coupled friends, many of whom had boyfriends who hated to dance. And there were far more single guys in attendance than I anticipated, and my outfit caught the eye of one in particular. (The green frilly shirt he wore with his tuxedo caught mine.) He was friends with the groom and happened to also be an alumni of Boston University. We spent nearly the entire evening together, and, when the party ended, we shared an innocent kiss.

We saw each other the next morning at brunch and then got together a couple of weeks later… although I was living in NYC and he was in Texas. We continued to visit each other once a month or so until he proposed to me 11 months after we met. And the rest, as they say, is history!

(image source)

The Worst: Waking up in the middle of the night with a headache so severe you are totally nauseated.

The Best: Having a husband voluntarily get out of bed to grab you super strength Motrin and a cup of water.

Thanks, J!

(image source)

My Past Accomplishment: Surviving Heartbreak

During my last semester of college, my head was telling me to move to Los Angeles after graduation to pursue a career in film publicity and promotion – but my heart wanted me to relocate to Washington, DC to live near the boy I’d been dating long distance. We met during Spring Break the second semester of my junior year, and, except for the summer before my senior year, we were living in different states.

Partly because it was difficult to find a job out in Hollywood and partly because I was anxious to see how our relationship would change if we lived in the same city, I ended up in the nation’s capital. Little did I expect our relationship to change so suddenly – and not for the better. We used to talk about one day getting married, moving to Colorado and getting a truck and a yellow lab. But just three months after I moved to DC to be near him (thankfully we had decided not to live together), I learned in a most dramatic fashion that he was cheating on me – and had been for months.

I was devastated. Thrown through a loop. Did I really rearrange my life for the opportunity for us, as a couple, to work? And we didn’t? He was my first true love, but I was not his. I was young and naive. Even after I found out that he was cheating on me, I didn’t want us to break up. I wanted him to want to be with me, not her, and to get help for his infidelity. He didn’t want that, and I was shattered even more – if possible.

I didn’t think I would ever recover from the heartbreak. It was debilitating. And to be honest with you, it took years to finally be able to move on. The impact of the break up affected me significantly, but despite all of the pain, I did survive – and that’s an accomplishment.

(top image, bottom image)

My Past Accomplishmente: Studying Aboard in Sydney, Australia

At the end of August 2001, my parents dropped me off at Newark Airport, bags in tow, to head half-way around the world for a semester. First I flew to Los Angeles to meet up with my fellow classmates before boarding a Quantas plane headed down under. Although I had a couple of acquaintances from Boston University participating in the program, I didn’t know very many people–a challenge for a shy girl like me.

Less than two weeks after we arrived in idyllic Australia, tragedy struck back home. We couldn’t have been further away from Ground Zero, but we were all terribly affected by the September 11th attacks. I remember I couldn’t walk through downtown Sydney without envisioning airplanes flying into skyscrapers. We attended memorial services held in the city and walked past the US Embassy to leave flowers. We hugged and cried with our teachers, most of them Australians, and tried to make sense of it all.

Somehow we forced ourselves to maintain our sense of adventure in the wake of 9/11. I’m so proud to have participated in so many activities that required me to challenge my fears, including:

• Learning how to surf
• Climbing the Sydney Harbour Bridge
• Abseiling (or “rappelling”) in the Blue Mountains
• Scuba Diving off the Great Barrier Reef
• Riding in a Hot Air Balloon over Cairns
• Taking a 6-day safari from Darwin down to Alice Springs
• Oh, and getting a tattoo…

But my semester in Sydney wasn’t all about outdoor excursions. I learned about Australia’s history and art, interned at 20th Century Fox promoting new releases around town, tasted unique cuisine like emu and, of course, frequented local shops and flea markets. All in all, it was an amazing experience that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to replicate.

(my photos)