Omgz tired

OMGz. Xmas and the past week and weekend have been insane. I don't really even know where to start. I last posted on Dec. 19, which was also my last day at my internship. I cleaned out mah cube and peaced out. I have lunch with the people from my department tomorrow, so I can't say I was sad to leave. It will be sad to say goodbye tomorrow, but that Friday, I was just so ready to be out of there and prepping for New York. Which is what I've been doing since.

I turned in my edit test last Tuesday. No word back yet, but that was also the day before Xmas Eve, and I assume the person I've been in contact with took a few days off for the holiday. I anticipate her being back in the office tomorrow, and I hope to hear back either tomorrow or Tuesday. Fingers crossed! I still appreciate any positive thoughts y'all are willing to vibe my way.

Since then, I have: visited family in ATL for Xmas, got in a huge fight with A, made up with A, had a really good time with A (he's in town visiting family as well), had a last supper with my Birmingham friends, and, at long last, started packing. Here is the evidence:

From bottom left, clockwise: Suitcase, pile of shoes, vacuum, vacuum storage bag

I'm not quite finished - I still have jewelry to pack, technological stuff, a hair dryer, toiletries, last minute clothes, etc. But right now that suitcase contains a vacuum-sealed storage bag filled with work clothes (dresses, tops, etc.) eight pairs of shoes (only three pairs of heels, gasp) and then more sensitive clothing stacked individually on top of that: a suit, silk top, cashmere sweater, etc etc. Basically I packed all my clothes in these suction bags because they save a ton of space - except for really delicate stuff, which I left out and placed gingerly on top.

There is also this bag:

I can has army duffle plz?

Sorry for the shitty picture quality. My dad is in the national guard, so he has all this random army ish laying around, and he suggested using one of these heavy-duty army duffles as my second checked bag instead of the smaller of my two suitcases. Turns out, like most of his ideas, it was a great one - the full bag you are looking at, which weighs more than 50 pounds (I'm sure of it), contains the following:

• One full-size down comforter
• One pillow
• One set of twin sheets
• One bath towel, one hand towel
• A loofa
• Three scarves
• Two hats
• Underwear, stockings, exercise clothes
  
• A collection of sweaters, coats, and other winter clothes

All of this ish is contained within two of the vacuum storage bags, except for the tiny, pliable items, with we rolled up and stuck in the crevices around the plastic bags. I have to give A credit here; he is mostly responsible for packing things into this duffle. He has really long arms, so he was good for it. I have to give props where props are due.

One thing I've always heard you need in NYC is a big tote to carry around with you. Wimpy little purses won't do for everyday happenings, because you leave your apartment in the morning, go to work, go work out, go hang out with friends, go to dinner or happy hour, whatever it is you do all day - you have to have a big bag for all your daily ish. So I went to Target and got one on clearance for like $27. It's big and black and has three compartments. Twss?

All I have left to pack is last minute stuff: toothbrush, razor, computer, chargers, etc. It's crazy to think that in less than 48 hours I will be a New Yorker in the making.

Majorly yours.

Update, Beyoncé dance, and I wanna get my herrrrz did

So it's Friday night, and I'm home. I'm kinda lame. But today was really stressful, long, and tiring, so cuddled up in my bed is just where I want to be. So that's where I am.

I have three important topics of discussion for y'all. Here they are, in order of importance, natch:

1. The Interview
It went well. It was a lot more informal and conversational than I expected. I prepared for it like I crammed for my political philosophy tests -- thoroughly and quickly. But then she didn't ask me any difficult or pressing questions. We basically had a conversation about the latest health news and events, talked about my past health reporting experience, and discussed the position. Then she told me I needed to do an edit test and they were trying to get this done post-haste (before the end of the year). Then she e-mailed me the edit test today (yay!) and I have until Tuesday afternoon to do it. This all feels surreal. I'm going to do my best and hopefully kick ass on the edit test, so if y'all will keep thinking positively for me, I will keep hoping!

2. Mah Herr
I'm bored as hell with my haircut. As some of you may recall, I got my original short haircut in August 2007, inspired by the original Vicky B, shown here.


When I first got that cut, I fucking loved it. I loved it so much that I kept it for over a year. Well now I'm bored. Of course. I'm going totally brunette on Dec. 29, and I'm also getting it cut. Here's what I'm thinking about doing:


AH! It will be dark brown and possibly split down the middle with chunky bangs? It's a complete 180 from my cut last year. But I'm so bored that I'm thinking of doing it just to change things up. I have a huge forehead, so bangs would work on me I think. What do y'all think? I need opinionz.

3. Beyoncé dance: I can dew it
Some of you are familiar with the Single Ladies video, and some of you know I went as Beyoncé from this video for Hllwn this year. What most of you don't know is that I also learned the dance from the video and I can do it. I doubt I will ever post a video of myself doing the dance on YouTube (like this guy did), but I can do it. Oh, I can. I have dedicated many hours to learning it, and I have practiced at the gym. I'm hardcore. I honestly don't know what my life would be like without Beyoncé in it.



Majorly yours.

Quick NYC update, minus the sigh

I don't really have time today for a deep, thoughtful post (sorry, I know y'all are used to those), but I wanted to update everyone really quick about some major happenings in preparation for NYC.

I applied to an assistant editor position at a national magazine in NYC, kind of on a whim. It's actually a step above entry-level; the order is (generally) editorial intern-->editorial assistant-->assistant editor-->associate editor-->editor. I didn't really expect to hear anything back, but the job sounded amazing, so I was like, why not. Well, they e-mailed me back yesterday and wanted me to come in for an interview! I was like oh noez I can't, I'm in Birmingham. But they were open to doing a phone interview. So it's this afternoon at 5 EST/4 CST. As I drove home from work yesterday, it suddenly dawned on me: this is my first-ever interview for a real job. Not an internship, not a college job. A real, 401K, benefits, and salary job. OMG amazing.

Also, A and I are officially going to Obama's inauguration. He got us tickets. It's the day before my birthday: January 20, 2009. Best b'day present ever. <3 Big Jackie O sunglasses might be required.

Back to work. I need y'all's help. Please be thinking of me this afternoon/early evening when I have my interview. I really believe in the power of positive thought.

Majorly yours.

I get the beat from maestro

Sometimes I listen to Weezy at work on mah iPod. It's so gritty and so offensive and so ghetto and I love it.

Today marks two weeks. Two weeks until I move to NYC. Two weeks. I can't believe that it's real. I still haven't packed a damn thing. I'm too busy contacting people in NYC, setting up informationals, talking to potential roommates, and applying for jobs. I haven't really been posting about it but that's what I do every day.

Basically I just find these contacts through people at work--some of them are former interns at my current place of work. I send them a brief e-mail that includes something along the lines of the following:

I'm currently interning in the --- department at ----- in Birmingham. I've been here since July, and my internship ends this Friday. I'm moving up to NYC Dec. 30, and ------ gave me your contact information. Where did you intern at ---- and what do you do now? How do you like the city? I would love to talk to you some time soon, just to get some advice about going from Birmingham to NYC. It would be great to have a network of Southerners when I get up there! Let me know when would be good for you. I have attached my cover letter, resume, and clips just for your reference. Thanks!

Sometimes I leave that last part out, if I'm just sending a casual hello e-mail. And if I'm cold e-mailing someone who isn't from the South and didn't work at my current company, I leave out all the stuff about Southerners and the South, obvs. I just introduce myself, give a brief bio of my work experience, and tell them I would love to speak with them about their move to NYC and their career path. I've been doing this every day for weeks now, and I've found that most people write back. Of course there are several e-mails I sent and never heard back from, but that is to be expected. People iz busy, nomesayin? But for the most part, people are cooperative and want to help.

Every time I get a response from someone, I print the e-mail and put it in a green folder labeled "NEW YORK." Yes, I am just that cheesy and organized. I actually started doing this because I was sending and receiving a lot of these e-mails from my work address, and after this Friday I won't have access to them. So the folder is filled with invaluable information: schedules for informational interviews, contact info, people I've e-mailed about potentially rooming together, HR forms, etc.

Green is for GRNY

Two weeks. So many questions still loom. How many bags will I try to take up with me? Two or three? Will I take my laptop with me on the plane or try to pack it securely? Will it be snowing or something horrible when I arrive? Will I have a roommate lined up? Should I use a broker to find my apartment? Most importantly: What shoes will I take? DAMN IT. I fear I will have to leave behind some tried and true favorites.

Majorly yours.

Missing the relationship gene

I can safely say I've never been in happy, healthy, normal, adult relationship with a guy. At least for no extended period of time. I was definitely in love with J, my first boyfriend, in high school, and we dated for 5+ years. It was young love, infatuation, stupid. We were never right for each other, which is why it ended and I haven't spoken to him in months. Oh, and he's married now.

The next guy I dated, D, was a bundle of issues I didn't want to deal with. We dated off and on for six months, and it ended worse than my first relationship. We no longer speak. The last words I said to him were "fucking shitbag," if that tells you anything. He is also dating someone seriously now.

And now I've entered into a long distance relationship (LDR) with A, without really knowing what I'm doing. We started talking in July, and I honestly never thought it would go anywhere serious, and I basically told him that when it was time for me to move to NYC, it would also be time to end the relationship. He didn't like this, of course, but we kept talking, and eventually I got to the point where I didn't want to break up with him. And I don't now, I don't think.

I just wonder what my deal is. Why can't I meet a nice, smart, funny, honest, sane guy who lives in the same ZIP code as me? I hate LDRs, and I'm also pretty bad at them. So why do I keep getting sucked in? I did it with J and now I'm doing it with A. Why? Why do I keep doing this? Is there something wrong with me?

I know this isn't an original thought, because Carrie talked about it on SATC when she was reconsidering her acceptance of Aidan's proposal -- but maybe I'm missing the relationship gene. Maybe some people just aren't cut out for serious relationships. Maybe the reason I can't meet someone who I want to date, who is a good guy, and who lives in the same city as me is because I repel relationships, like the negative ends of two magnets. No matter how hard you try to get them to touch, they just won't, and it's really annoying.

Then again, I think I'm way too young to be worrying about this bullshit. So what if I'm kind of bad at relationships? I'm 22. Maybe I'm supposed to be bad at them for a while. Maybe that's how you learn to be good at them.

I just wonder how long A will put up with it. He says he wants to be with me, and he's willing to work through our difficulties because he thinks I'm worth it. But for how long? When I get to NYC, we will be entering into a new stage of our relationship, yes, but it will still be an LDR. So how much different will it be, really? I will be physically closer to him, but we still won't really be sharing our lives. How well can you really know someone if you only see him once every week, or two weeks, or three weeks?

When you're about to embark on the adventure of your life, these are the questions you're forced to ask yourself. It sucks because it hurts, both yourself and others. But it's better to ask beforehand and be prepared than to enter into something blindly just because it's easier.

Majorly yours.

Oral surgery recovery sux

I told y'all on Friday that I was getting ready to go in to have my wisdom teeth taken out. Prep for surgery sucked because I couldn't eat all morning at work, and as I found out when I arrived to the doctor's office Friday afternoon, I actually wasn't supposed to drink either. Not even water. They want your stomach totally empty in case the anesthesia makes you vom -- they don't want you choking on your own vom during surgery. Lovely, huh?

Well anyway once I got there, they took another X-ray of my mouth and the surgeon came in to tell me what was going to happen. I asked him his professional opinion on whether or not I needed to have all four of the teeth pulled, and he of course said yes, I should. He said if I left them in my mouth they would inevitably cause problems, so taking them out now was probably the safest bet.

I conceded. After he talked to me for a bit, he left the room and the nurse started giving me laughing gas, which is UHMAZING. After about two minutes you start to feel kind of giggly. It's amazing how good doctors and scientists are at naming stuff. You just start laughing for no reason. Then after about five minutes you start to feel heavy and tingly, and very chatty. Basically it's like being drunk, without the time or calories wasted imbibing. Awesome. They gave me laughing gas for about 15-20 minutes, which was pretty amazing in itself. During that time she also gave me an IV for the anesthesia. I barely felt it and I barely remember it now, so that was good. The nurse was really sweet and while I was gas-o we talked about why it's a bad idea for people to get married and have children too young. She waited until she was 30 t0 have her first kid. Clearly these are my feelings too, so I think we really bonded while I was in there.

Next thing I know I'm waking up from surgery. My mouth is stuffed with gauze and I'm pretty unconscious. The recovery part is the most disgusting. Even more disgusting than having to wear my pajamas to the surgery site, which we all know my feelings on. I got home and immediately took a Loritab and got in bed. From all the stories I had heard, you pretty much are supposed to pass out right after surgery and not wake up for several hours. This did not happen to me. I took a Loritab and fell asleep for maybe 45 minutes, then someone texted me and I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep. I ate some soup that night. I ended up not going to sleep until after 1 a.m. I was pretty distraught, because obviously I assumed there was something wrong if I couldn't sleep.

Anyway, next day I woke up around 9 a.m. to take my antibiotics (four a day for the next seven days, damnz), then fell back asleep. A called me around noon (yes, we're still together and talking pretty regularly again) and I had a short, incoherent convo with him then fell back asleep, waking up again around 2. I was much more swollen than I had been on Friday, and felt generally disgusting. I ate some soup. I managed to get in the shower last night. I ate some ice cream. Did I mention you can't brush your teeth for the first 24 hours after surgery? Because you can't. It's so gross.

Then around 9 p.m. I started to feel really miserable. My mouth was hurting, and it was also pretty much swollen shut. I officially hate Loritab because I think it makes me really emotional and crazy. So far I have cried at least three or four times since I started taking it. One time I knocked my iPhone off my nightstand and started crying. WTF? Thaaaat's not normal. The phone is fine.

So I just went to bed around 9:30 or so. I woke up feeling much better this morning. Minimal pain, and the swelling has gone down as well. I am actually trying to eat some oatmeal right now, somewhat successfully. I doused it in honey so it's quite delicious. I have much better range of up/down motion in my mouth today, so I might actually try to eat some solid food later. I'm still wearing the same PJ pants I wore to the surgery, and I still haven't brushed my teeth. I'm so gross right now.

Majorly yours.

Surgery bluez

I'm getting my wisdom teeth out today. Like most things in my life, I kind of suck at doing things ahead of time, so I waited until the last possible minute to schedule my surgery. I mean, my dentist told me in like September or October that I needed to get my bottom right one out because it was coming in crooked. Little bastard. The other three are fine, but I kind of decided to get them out too while I'm under anesthesia. I am now regretting that decision, and I'm going to ask the surgeon today when I show him my X-ray if I can possibly avoid getting the other three out too. Just the one will be fine, thanks.

I haven't had surgery or been under any kind of anesthesia (well except for laughing gas for some cavities, which was awesome, LBO) since I was like 12 and had appendicitis slash peritonitis and I had surgery for that. I'm kind of nervous about it. Also apparently you can't eat several hours before surgery. My surgery is at 12:45, and I'm not allowed to eat at all this morning. SUX. I'm sitting at my desk, and I'm already hungry and it's only 9 a.m. I have Xmas cookies in my drawer that I can't eat. Buh.

Anyway, I'll keep y'all updated on how everything goes. I may not be able to talk after it's over, because my mouth will be stuffed with cotton, but I will be able to blog. Oh, I will blog. I will.

Majorly yours.

Over driving

One of the myriad reasons I am so looking forward to moving to NYC is that I really hate driving. Well, I don't hate the act of driving itself, I just hate that there are other people on the road who think they have the right to drive at the same time I am driving. I mean WTF? I am very impatient with stupid people and bad drivers, I drive offensively, and I yell a lot. All of these reasons probably relate to my getting in a minor fender bender last month. Suck.

This is what I drove to work in this morning.

In case you can't tell, it's rainy and thundery and windy and nasty. It has been raining since approximately 10 last night, and it hasn't stopped. As a result I drove through several huge puddles on my way to work. Vom.

Anyway, I can't wait to not have to worry about it anymore. Of course my dislike of driving will probably be replaced by a general dislike of public transit, because the grass is always greener I guess. And I suppose walking in the rain is going to suck more than driving in it. But for right now I am so looking forward to walking everywhere and taking the subway and the occasional splurge-y cab ride.

E-mail of the day from a senior editor at a huge mag in NYC: "Sorry for my MIA-ness—just been busy over here!"

I quickly forgave her, because obvs anyone who says "MIA-ness" is meant to be my BFF.

Majorly yours.

A sigh and a quick NYC update

I heard back today from the NYC mag that contacted me a couple weeks ago to do a follow-up interview for an internship. The assistant editor let me know that they decided to go with someone else. I am disappointed, but she did say that she would love to meet up with me when I get to the city, just to chat about things. And it is really promising that I got an interview while outside of New York - it's rare, because with so many talented people wanting internships in the city, why would they look elsewhere? They must have liked my resume and clips enough to ask me to answer some questions from way down here in Bham, so that is good I think.

Aaand I just spilled Diet Coke all over my desk. Fail.

In good news, I got an iPhone last night as sort of an early Xmas present slash replacement for my (RIP) blackberry. Mah blog namez is predictive.

Majorly yours.

In which Platinum of Birmingham eats my blackberry

Growing up in Birmingham, I always heard stories about Platinum of Birmingham. Mostly bad ones. In the part of town I grew up in (read: very white, pretty wealthy), people just don't go to the North side of the city. It's an area known for its drug use, violent crimes, and general scaryness. Oh noez, sez the white folk.

Of course, I always wanted to go to Platinum. Anyone who knows me knows I love hip-hop and rap, and I love to dance. Also I don't think of myself as just another white girl and I'm all for breaking down racial barriers. And if something scares me, it just makes me more likely to do it. So Saturday night, my friend M, who shares my passion for horrible pop-hop and rap, decided to join me as we ventured to the North side to fulfill my life's dream: droppin' it on the dance floor of Platinum.

As soon as we pulled up to the 8th street block of 2nd Ave N, I could feel the energy and I was immediately hooked. People roamed the streets on their way to the club, cop cars were everywhere, and there was a barbecue stand set up a block from the entrance. I can has late night ribz? People drove by with their subwoofers bumping and their sunglasses on. It was midnight, which is, of course, irrelevant.

We drove around for about 20 minutes looking for a parking spot. We found one, put our shades on, and marched toward the club. It was freezing. We waited in line for about 30 minutes, which was quite unpleasant. When we finally got to the door, we were ushered through a metal detector and asked to pay the $10 cover. Normally, my rule for Birmingham is that I refuse to pay more than $5 to get in anywhere. But Platinum is special. And I knew it would totally be worth it.

Once we actually entered the club, it was worth it. There was a huge dance floor, people dancing everywhere, three huge bars, and a back room with ample seating. It was smoky, of course, which I dislike, but that was to be expected. And, of course, the jamz were bumpin'. They played all the music I LOVE and secretly listen to in my car all the time (read: T-Pain, T.I., Ludacris, Crime Mob, Plies). I was basically in heaven.

PofB magic

We headed down to the dance floor and proceeded to get crushed. It was so packed. But we tried to make some space for ourselves and danced for a bit before I looked down and realized my wristlet had come open and my blackberry was MIA. Fuck.

I immediately bent down and started searching among the feet, legs, stilettos, and discarded beer bottles for my poor phone. Nowhere to be found. M called it so I could see it light up if it were anywhere in the immediate vicinity. Nope. So we retraced our steps - by this time we had literally walked all over the club - and hunted for it. Amazingly, I found my lip gloss in a completely different part of the club than where we were. But no phone.

I asked one of the bartenders if anyone had turned in a phone. Nothing. M and I ventured up to the DJ booth, which was elevated above the dance floor on the second level, and Young Dil called out over the music four times asking for the return of my precious phone if anyone should come across it. He also took M's phone number and said he would call if it turned up. Of course, he never did, but it was a sweet gesture. In fact, everyone there was helpful and seemed genuinely concerned, both people employed at the club and patrons. People could obvs tell I was looking for something, because I was hunched over and looking down most of the time, so they kept asking me what I was looking for and offering their condolences. So sad.

Since Saturday night I have called the club multiple times trying to find it. No one turned it into the lost and found. I finally gave up yesterday and deactivated it. I dreamed of going to Platinum all my semi-adult life, but never did I think my relationship with a club would ever become so intimate. On my list of things to do before leaving Birmingham: go to Platinum. Check. Not on my list of things to do before leaving Birmingham: lose my phone. Fail.

RIP Blackberry with tha blue cover
November 2007 - November 2008
The best phone named after a fruit I ever had.

Majorly yours.

Life is absurd

Ever since I studied Albert Camus in high school, I have been a firm believer in the Absurd. It's basically this idea that no matter what you do in your life, you will always be faced with the indifference of the universe staring back at you, and at certain random moments during your life, you will be acutely aware of it. It might sound horribly depressing, and I guess it can be if that's how you choose to deal with it. I choose to laugh when I experience moments of the Absurd. Which is possibly why I might come across as airy or flippant or too light-hearted or whatever.

My friend M sent me this link earlier today. Acknowledging the sinister possibility that this guy actually pushed his girlfriend into the ocean, the distinct possibility also exists that she was literally washed away by a huge wave. What does life mean if you live 22 years, try to be good to the people you know, fall in love, and try your best to do everything right - only to be washed away by a three-foot wave. I mean srsly. The image of her life being literally washed away is so poetic, so philosophically poignant, that it borders on beautiful.

Anyway, I was thinking about all this because it's been a hard week. Someone in my department got laid off. That's the closest to me the broad cuts at the company have gotten, and it's really sad. It's 4:30 on Friday afternoon and still no word about that internship in NYC I got contacted for. They were supposed to make a decision by today, so I assume I didn't get it. A and I e-mailed briefly this morning and now I don't know what the hell to think. I'm reading a really depressing book and I have to review it. I'm constantly tired because I'm not sleeping well. The Victoria's Secret Fashion Show was an incredible let-down, as is Brit's "Circus" video. Bad bad bad.

25 days until NYC. 25 days. Five sets of five days. I saw a guy from high school last night at a restaurant in town and we were talking about goings on in our lives since we haven't seen each other in like four years. I told him I'm moving to NYC at the end of the month and he asked me what I plan to do there. "Oh, I don't know. I'm just moving there. We'll see." It dawned on me then that I am basically moving to the most difficult city in the world during the most difficult time in recent memory. I could be there for months without a full-time job. A year or more even, if the economy doesn't turn up. What the fuck am I doing.

But then I think, this time is the most perfect time to move up. If the universe insists on shoving its Absurdity upon me, I will laugh and shove right back. The economy is bad? The magazine industry is suffering more than ever? Wall Street is faring worse and worse every day? Hah. I'm moving up anyway, biatch. Take that.

Life is Absurd, but life is Good. I try to remind myself of that every day. In the words of B.B. King:

hey everybody, let's have some fun
you only live once
and when you're dead, you're done

Majorly yours.

Checkity check check

Checking things off a list of things to do is like the most satisfying thing ever. This morning after the gym and on my way to work I dropped my dress off at the dry cleaners. I guess when I don't have a physical list to check off, I feel compelled to say it out loud so I feel like I accomplished something, because as I drove away I said, "Check!" out loud to myself while listening to NPR. It's the little things, really.

Also it's been a productive Getting Ready for New York (GRNY) day. I have e-mailed and talked on the phone with several people up there, and I got a response to an internship application! I am very excited about this. I have to answer some questions for them and send them responses by tomorrow. They are making final decisions by the end of the week. Without an in-person interview, I'm not getting my hopes up too much. But fingers crossed, nonetheless.

Also, for all you Southern readers who also dream of NYC, there is a large community of Southerners from SEC schools who regularly meet for happy hours, etc. in the city. Here is the link with contact info for the Ole Miss group in NYC. For other schools, just Google "greater New York (insert school here) alumni association" or something like that. I am really excited about this because I am cheesy and can't wait to watch Ole Miss football in a Manhattan bar filled with other Ole Miss fans. Oh, and $4 well dranks don't hurt either, nomesayin?

Majorly yours.

A hot mess

That's what my life is. A hot damn mess. My room is messy. Right now there is a dress strewn across my bed that I keep procrastinating taking to the dry cleaners. It has literally never been washed. I know, kinda gross, but whatevz. There is a growing pile of DVDs on the floor that have gradually made their way out of the box they've lived in since I moved home. There are at least two stacks of unopened mail and unread magazines (read: the Alumni Review) that have accumulated since I decided that getting mail is like my least favorite thing ever. I used to like getting mail, because A would send me sweet letters, which a boy has never done for me before. But I guess I fucked that up.

It's not just my room. My head is a mess with all the things I know I have to do before I move. My internship ends in < three weeks, and in that time I have three outstanding stories and a book review to write. These also require transcribing and reading a book, respectively. This is all, of course, on top of my regular daily intern duties. Oh, and what about Xmas shopping? Um, how is it already December? C's birthday is in 7 days! Ah! Oh, and we're officially in recession. Awesome. But, in good news, I am really excited about this blog. It makes me happy to know that people like to read my writing and care enough about my absurd existence to take time to read my ranting, etc. In fact, in the first 24 hours of the blog's existence, at least 61 of you cared! That's how many unique visitors I had. And there were 97 total page loads. Respectable. Here's a Google map of y'all, from launch until about 10:30 last night when my tired ass went to bed:

Why's it so small? Twss.

Sorry, y'all. I tried to make the map bigger but it just ended up looking pixelated, which it kinda still does. Point is that's a respectable spread, so thanks. Especially that guy in the middle of the ocean on the equator. Impressive. Edit: Apparently because of the format of mah blog, I can't display the part of the map that shows the gBalloon on the equator underneath Ghana in the middle of the ocean. This clearly signifies that someone used their iPhone or something to visit my page while clinging to a dingy for dear life. Awesome.

Until next time, majorly yours.

One Month

It's Nov. 30, 2008. One month from today, at 12:15 CST/1:15 EST, I will be boarding a plane heading for La Guardia and I will not be returning. At least not for a while. Here's my flight path:

Yep, I'm flying through two airports in the same state. I can has cheep tktz?

I'm sure most of you came to this blog either from Facebook or from my other beloved (pronounced bee-luv-id), Hautey Toddy. Fear not, HT readers, I will keep up that blog as well. But I should let you all know, in the name of keeping it real, that this blog is not HT. It's just me. It's Meghan. I will be expressing myself in an unfiltered way. This might, and probably will, include the use of foul language. It will also, you'll be glad to know, include the use of lolspeek. I think using these two approaches will keep most of you appeased. Or uhpeezed.

When I started writing HT, the first thing I did was explain why I wanted to write it. You might be wondering why anyone should give a shit about my journey from B'ham to NYC; my response is that I don't expect that anyone really does. But maybe there is someone out there who grew up in the South and wants to know what it's like not only to move up North, but to move to one of the most populated cities in the world. How do you even go about such a move? What about all the stuff you have to take with you? How do you find a place to live? A job? What if you say "y'all" and people look at you funny? Etc etc.

So far I only have half-answers to such questions, because I'm still in Birmingham. My plan thus far consists of packing two suitcases with as much of my shit as possible, getting on a plane, and staying with my friend Z until I find a place of my own. Sure, I've already started preparations. I've been doing informational interviews with as many people as possible within the company I work for, as well as with mag/web employees in New York. I set up an HR interview with a major magazine company for early January. I've been looking for people needing roommates/available apartments on Ed2010 and Craigslist. I feel like I'm pretty much doing everything I can to make myself prepared for the most significant transition in my life. Going away to college was nothin, y'all. I'm leaving and I don't know when I'm coming back. WTF.

As a result, my brain has been kind of a clusterfuck since I bought my ticket. Ever since I moved home to start my internship, I feel like I've lost some of my identity. My best friend C, who I've been best friends with since freshman year of college, lives in Chicago and I haven't seen her since June. Z lives in NYC, obvs, and I haven't seen him since June either, except for a brief skankfest in Jackson in September. I've been in a long-distance relationship with A in D.C. since July, and I think I have felt the strain of a lost identity most with him. How can you really be with someone when you feel like you don't know who you are anymore? You can't, that's how.

Add in the strain of entering into an industry that is, by some accounts at least, crumbling amongst the ruins of the current economic crisis, and you have a recipe for depression and confusion. And that's what I've been feeling for the past month or so. The only thing I know I want is to be reunited with my best friends and to be in NYC. So this blog will be a documentation of my journey - literally and emotionally - from the leisurely life I've known in the South to the fast-paced life I want in New York. In case you're reading this as a Southerner dreaming of a different life in a big Northern city, but feeling apprehensive: I'm there right now. I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing, but I'm doing it anyway. Maybe that's just how life is. Maybe if you're not scared, you're living too comfortably.

Who the fuck knows. I'm 22 years old, and I don't claim to know anything. I'm just doing what I feel in my heart is the right thing to do. I fell hard in love with New York over four years ago, so why would I choose to live anywhere else?

Thanks for checking out BtoA. I want you all with me on my journey.
I am, now and always,
Majorly yours.