Good Grammar = Good Writing?

So when I got fired, my boss told me one of things that caused my occupational demise was my lack of copy editing skills. So since then I've been on this kick of buying grammar books, hoping to fight that battle of misplaced modifiers.

I don't know though. I don't know if I can really retain this stuff. I've been reading Grammar Girl's book and following her blog since December now and I've only noticed a slight change in my ability to catch mistakes. When I read all the little tips and quips, I nod my head and think, "yes, I can see why that's wrong!" However, about 10 minutes later, it's like I never read the rule in the first place.

My question to other writer's is this: Do you think having a better handle on grammar makes you a better writer?

Can't sleep... well at night

Oy. Why is it every time I come close to thinking I can make it in the publishing industry I start having panic attacks?

I have an interview on Friday for an editor position that seems kind of interesting at an organization that I might actually care about. So what happens last night before I go to bed? I start to realize how much I really hate grad school, and how everyone else in my class seems to hate it too, but they still love how they're learning. I don't feel as though I'm learning. No, I'm barely getting by with Bs in order to graduate.

For instance, we had a project due this week that most of the people in my class have been working on for week. Me? I did it in like two days with many, many breaks. These projects are now being posted online and mine looks something like a grade-schooler's compared to everyone else.

Knowing this, I begin to doubt my ability to do the job I'm interviewing for with any real ability. Do I really care about the publishing industry?

New Blog

So I figured this blog was more for my problems with trying to find my passion for writing again and bitching about my weight really didn't qualify as a good blog post. So instead I started another blog about my road to weight loss which you can find under my profile. Happy reading!

"Complex" Issues

I want to tell you a little bit about the love of my life. My boyfriend. Quite possibly one of the sweetest, most generous, talented, passionate men you could ever come across. He is what inspires sappy movies. He is what gets me through the bad days. It sounds cliche, it sounds like I'm newly in love. But in fact it's been almost a year-and-a-half already and I'm still full of butterflies.

He's also incredibly handsome. He is that guy that when he walks into a room and girls everywhere turn and stare. Forget handsome, he's straight up hot. The first night I met him, I kept turning to my friend and whispering "Oh my god.. I mean... oh my god look at that guy!" So when at the end of the night I found myself brave enough to talk to him (yay Jim Beam!) and he asked me to meet him the next day, I couldn't believe it. There's no way this could be a date.

Well it was, and we've been together happily ever after ever since. So here's my issue -- When we first started dating I was teetering on the edge of obese. No, I'm not just putting myself down, according to the BMI scale, I had like one more point before I teetered over the edge. Well a lot of hard work, running and gym time, I've lost about 40 pounds. I'm what you call "average" now. A size 8, not too shabby. However, I still feel like I'm no where on his level of hotness. I'm constantly questioning myself how he could ever be attracted to me. Especially since his ex-girlfriend closet is packed full of gymnasts, dancers and all around beautiful women. How in the world did I land this guy??

Why is it the more weight I've lost, the more I feel self-conscious? Did I feel like when I got to this size it would be OK? Maybe. All I know is that I'm back on my diet, that I've been running 20 miles a week, strength training until I can't move at night, hoping that someday I can feel 100 percent comfortable. He thinks its because I want to wear a two-piece this summer (well that's true too) but really I just want him to have the girl he deserves.

MORE Coffee, LESS Coffee Shops

After years and years of forced Catholicism through the coercion of a parochial-school upbringing, I pretty much gave up on organized religion. However, for some reason I can't stop doing the whole "Lent" thing. I often get a lot of guff from my friends about this. "You don't go to church, so why give something up?" Well, because I like the idea of practicing a little discipline.

For years I gave up meat for all 40 days, but with all the vegetarian choices these days it wasn't really all that hard the last couple of years. So this year, I took a deep look at myself, my vices, and decided I really needed to stop spending so much money on coffee.

This does NOT mean I gave up coffee. I'm a writer, don't' you want me to write? I need coffee like a 1950s beat reporter needs their Jack Daniels. It's what gets me through. But let's face it, good luck finding a shop that doesn't sell coffee produced on some sacred mountain in an all-organic country blessed by monks. Buying coffee at coffee shops is freaking expensive.

So, for 40 days, a man named Maxwell is my new best friend. I'm only drinking the stuff I make at home. Well... that is causing a whole new problem on its own. I'm now drinking like six cups instead of two. I have no idea what my deal is with this. I'm hyper as hell. I'm bouncing off the walls of apartment. I'm driving the bf nuts, considering we have a studio so there's not a whole lot of room to bounce.

Plus now, I'm doing all my homework, job-searching, and Internet cruising at home. Not nearly as productive. I could go to the library, but they're way too quiet for my taste. So here I sit at my little corner of the apartment next to the fridge with my fourth cup of burnt coffee.

Thanks for listening to my caffeine-infused babbling on.

Becoming My Parents...

I grew up rather poor. We're talking empty refrigerators, food stamps, sometimes we didn't even have a home.

Things changed for me when my grandparents adopted me and took me into their home. My grandmother has her master's in English and my grandfather was a retired steel worker. I began to have a normal middle class life.

I went on to college, graduated with a degree in journalism, moved out to the East Coast, got a descent job, then switched jobs to accommodate part-time graduate school. Everything was going great, up until I got fired and began to question everything.

I haven't been able to find a new job. I'm starting to question if I'll ever find something in the professional world again, considering I've been sending out at least 2 to 3 resumes a week since September and have only gotten one in-face interview. It looks like it's going to be a couple of part-time jobs in order to just start helping my boyfriend with the rent.

The rent. We want a new apartment. We're in a studio with literally no where to sit but the bed or one desk chair. Everything else is covered in boxes. There's just no room. Can't get the one-bedroom because I need a pay stub. I feel worthless.

Cue Depressing Music

Unemployment is quite possibly the second worst thing that has ever happened to me. I feel completely useless. At this point, I can't even tell you how many resumes I've sent in, how many cover letters I've revised or how many times I've wanted to scream at the unemployment online filing system.

Some of my friends think I have it made. They say "oh, it must be nice to sleep in!" or "Man, what I wouldn't give to have some time off." Well let me clear the air about what unemployment feels like. IT SUCKS. Just because I get a check once a week, doesn't mean I'm not constantly worried about everything. This check pays nothing. And if I get a part-time job to help support myself, then I won't receive unemployment anymore. Dear State of Virgina: I can't pay my rent on what little you offer, please let me get a part-time job too!

I know this makes me sound like a total snob, but I can't believe that I'm going to have to work two jobs just to buy groceries when I'm only a few months from getting my master's and I already have almost 5 years of experience. There's just nothing available. And what is available, doesn't seem to want me. When I first started this blog I said I was having trouble figuring out who I am. Well, now it's ten times worse, because now I don't even feel like I'm worth anything. I don't seem to be able to offer anyone anything, judging by the lack of any calls about my resume.

Le sigh.

I've Been A Long Time Gone...

I know it's been awhile and I apologize to my readers. The unemployment thing got the best of me for a little while. I didn't get the aforementioned job. Boo. Dealing with the unemployment office, moving into my boyfriend's studio apartment and going home for Christmas caused a great deal of stress. I'm assuming writing probably would have helped, but it was the last thing I felt like doing.

However, that has changed. I recently got back from an 11 day trip to the British Virgin Islands. Before this trip, though I am an avid traveler, I really never cared if I ever made it to the Caribbean islands or not. But now that I've been, I'll forever be an advocate. These islands renewed my desire to write. The colors of the water, the people and their smiles, the food and its flavors, were all simply amazing.

If you ever find yourself in the area, please, Please, PLEASE, visit Mrs. Scatliffe's restaurant in Carrot Bay on the island of Tortola. This woman literally laid the foundation of her house/restaurant with gravel her family gathered from a nearby road. She cooks all of the restaurants meals herself and uses only ingredients from her humble farm. Here I had my first taste of breadfruit soup and a conversation with a woman I will never forget. Her simplicity and love for people made me realize that life just doesn't have to be complicated to be happy.

We can all learn a little lesson there.

Fingers Crossed!

So I had a phone interview today with an organization that sounds right up my ally. Can I just say how much I HATE phone interviews? Despite the fact that, yes, I am a female, I absolutely hate speaking on the phone. Probably a reason the whole journalist thing isn't working out.

In person, I can woo anyone, seriously. I'm a great networker, I can share jokes with the guys and flatter the ladies. There hasn't been a conference yet, where I haven't made new friends or an in-person interview where I didn't get a second interview.

But on the phone, I'm terrible. I like reading faces, I like imitating body movements, I like using all the little communication tricks I learned in all my gazillion classes in undergrad. On the phone, most of that is impossible and it makes me nervous.

I studied for a few hours yesterday, writing out possible questions and answers and they fell in line with most the interview today. But I zoomed right through it, thinking maybe I spoke too fast, but I have no idea, because I couldn't see the notetaker on the other line! Did she record it? I freaking hope so because I highly doubt a HR person knows what proofing a blueline means.

Wish me luck guys! I need it!

Write "Right?"

I had sort of an epiphany last night, right as I was falling asleep. I'm surprised I even remember it, because it was during that phase of sleepiness, that I like to describe as the "dusk." It's right before you fall asleep, your mind is looping with thoughts that don't make much sense, as your brain prepares for dreamy-dream land.

I was thinking, once again, about walking off my writing career path. I was comparing myself to other magazine writers I know, and don't know. And thought, "I could never write like that, I'm never going to make it."

Then I started thinking about my artist friends. The ones who work as animators and graphic design artists, and how they don't like their jobs much either. Most of them say, they're just day jobs they struggle with, in order to make enough money to create the real art that they want to, without "starving." Some are modern artists, some are realists, others... copycats.

I think the same can be said of writers. I may not write like some of the people I work with (thought I won't be here much longer) but I do have my own style. Just like any kind of art, each writer has their expression, their own way of doing things. So maybe I shouldn't give up just yet.

In the Funk

Well, I've had a few days — and a few therapy sessions — to think about this unemployment thing. So far, the best way I can describe it is to use the cliched "emmotional roller coaster."

You'd think I was going through menopause with my mood swings. One minute, I'm all "Hellz Yeah! I finally get to leave this job!" The next minute I'm "Oh my god, I'll never be able to afford Happy Hour again; I'm going to have to work retail."

I've applied to what seems like a hundred jobs (actually it's probably more around 15) and I haven't heard so much as an e-mailed reply. My resume may not be up to par, but I can't look at it anymore. And every one that I show it to, wants to change it a different way. I've tried all their ways, and still... nothing.

Have any of you lost your jobs and decided it was time for a different route? I'd love to hear about your experience.

The Block Wins

Well, it looks like my "writer's block" has gotten the best of me. I just received news this morning that I have four weeks to look for a new job. The worst part is... I've been looking for a new job for weeks, there's just nothing out there.

I was hoping once people knew where the presidency was heading, things would start to open up, that has not been the case. I have no idea what I'm going to do. I can't pay my rent on unemployment. D.C.'s cost of living is awesome that way.

My boyfriend, is of course, supportive, actually telling me he was going to take me to dinner to celebrate. But me? I'm terrified. Sorry Grandma and Grandpa, looks like I won't be making it home for Christmas this year, I have to save the money. Honestly, couldn't they have waited until the New Year?

I never thought it would come to this. I think it's time to give up on writing as a career.

Saving Impossible

I'm trying. *Insert quip about "yes, you're very trying" here.*

But in all seriousness... I'm trying so hard to save money. I feel like I never can though. No, I don't go on shopping sprees. No I don't buy a latte everyday (once a week to get me through class, I'll shamefully admit though). Yes, I look for sales. Yes, I try to buy things used. Heck, I'm even looking for my winter coat at Goodwill, though I haven't found one yet.

When the end of the month comes around, do I have anything to show for it? No. I'm still dipping into my emergency fund to buy tickets to go see my Grandparents for the holidays. I'm still trying to figure out how I'll buy any Christmas gifts this year. I'm still saying 'sorry' that I can't go out to restaurants with my friends on Fridays.

Having a job, freelancing part-time, and all this penny pitching is all so tiring. It's also embarrassing. Will I ever not be worried about money?

Does any one have any good money saving tips?

Comfort Food and Dreary Days

I have a problem.

So for the past six or seven months, I've been doing really well. I used to be a bad eater. I skipped breakfast and drank two cups of coffee to get through my morning, I got cheesy, mayo-drenched sandwiches for lunch from local delis, and dinner usually consisted of quesadillas (a.k.a. slice of Kraft cheese, salsa from a jar and tortilla from a bag).

Then, in the middle of my life change, I asked my fitness nut boyfriend for some help. So in July I started eating healthier and seriously felt better. I drank tea instead of coffee. I ate oatmeal every morning. I skipped all the bad co-worker lunches and started bringing my own. Usually leftover protein and vegetables from the night before.

However, this was summer and fall. Now that winter is coming, it's becoming a challenge. It's cold, it's foggy, it's rainy, and soon it will be icy and snowy. Ugh! So now my cravings are back! I want coffee, I want hot chocolate, I want warm, filling cheesy goodness. I've been giving into the leftover Halloween bowl at the office. I've been getting Starbucks' before my Thursday classes. And I've been eating sandwiches... with cheese!

I haven't gained weight back yet, but I know it's coming. Anyone have any advice for the winter eating blues?

Where it all began...

First a little information about me, before I get right into my first post. About a year ago I became obsessed with becoming a new me. Not really so much, a new personality, I'm actually quite pleased with myself in that department, many of my friends would say the same.

However, I found myself in somewhat of a slump. So I did what all the self-help books tell you to do, one morning I woke up and made a list of goals. I wanted to learn more, I wanted to write more, I wanted to become more "girly" and in order to do that, I wanted to change the way I dressed and felt.

So far, so good. I've lost 35 pounds, I'm wearing make up more than on Saturdays (though, still not to work...) I've found freelance jobs and I found the greatest boyfriend any girl could ask for. Sounds great right?

Well, I'm still not entirely comfortable. I feel like something is missing. I'm still trying to figure out what that is. And until that happens, until I discover my true passions, my life-long goals, my purpose, I'm afraid it's my writing that suffers the most.