endings & beginnings & ramblings

Hey guys. You're now reading the blog of an official, for real, actual college grad. I've been kind of hovering in limbo for the past two months, but limbo time is over, my friends. I'm in real life now. 

On Friday, I said goodbye to my coworkers and my BYUtv job. I knew it was going to be hard for me emotionally, but I didn't expect the huge wave of oh-my-lanta-what-is-happening-my-whole-life-is-a-dark-hazy-mist that overcame me as I (tearfully) left the building for my last time. It was just sad. I love that job. I love my coworkers. I love the weird inside jokes and sayings that induce crazy fits of laughter while onlookers debate as to whether they should call a psychiatrist for us. It was the perfect student job and it was the perfect job to make me fall even more in love with editing.

So I guess I should have realized that saying goodbye would be so hard. 

Luckily, I had something amazing around the corner. I've been excited for my new internship for months now, but during the last couple of weeks, a lot of fear and trepidation crept in and almost squashed all the excitement out of me. I considered every single terrible thing that could happen in relation to the job (most of them involving public transportation. #travelanxiety) and convinced myself that I was going to be a huge disappointment and that they'd want to get rid of me pronto. 

Well, after one day, I can safely say that (so far) none of my awful situations have come to pass. And thus far they seem pretty happy to have an intern, as the workload is pretty monumental right now. I guess I'll give them some time to decide if they are happy that the intern is me.

On my end, things are pretty peachy. I spent the majority of my day reading a dang good historical fiction novel and inputting edits for said novel. AND I GOT PAID FOR IT. I almost didn't want to go home, but then my stomach reminded me that I was hungry, and I remembered that the book would still be waiting for me to comb through it in the morning. So I left. 

And public transportation isn't half bad, I've found. I'm pretty much a master at navigating Salt Lake City via Trax now. And by that, I mean that I can get from the FrontRunner station to work and back. Baby steps, my friends. Baby steps. 

I'm not exactly an outgoing person, but after one day, I've already realized that commuting with a bunch of strangers introduces you to some goshdarn cool people. My morning FrontRunner ride up to Salt Lake taught me that a majority of folks traveling north from Utah County teeter precariously on the edge of spiffily well-dressed and hipster. And these people (spifsters?) come in all ages. 

On the way home, a rather attractive guy about my age struck up a conversation with me, and I was like "SCORE!" Mostly because many of my friends have decided that I'm going to meet the man of my dreams on my commute, and I let that go to my head. Our conversation was going swimmingly until about 15 minutes into it when he dropped the F Word. NO NOT THAT ONE. Get your mind out of the gutter, people. Fiancee. He mentioned his fiancee. 

I should have known it was too good to be true. But in all actuality, he was a pretty swell guy, and I appreciated the fact that he wasn't one of those guys who won't even have a commuter conversation with somebody because she happens to be a girl approximately his age. And he was a really cool person, and I truly enjoyed chatting with him as our train sped south. (Also he told me how he proposed, and it was so dang cute, and I'm just a sucker for a good proposal story)

But of all the people I met today—and between a new job, the sister missionaries at Temple Square, and public transportation, there were quite a few—my favorite was the elderly UTA employee who was on the FrontRunner on my way home. He was an Irish-born, German raised man who speaks English as a third language, although you'd never guess that. When he spoke, he sounded mostly German, but there was a curious lilt in his voice that I've never heard in the voice of a German before. 

After World War II, he and his family were trapped under Communist rule in East Berlin, which was when he learned Russian (Russian being his second language after German). His family had converted to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints just before the war, and after the war was over, the Church did its best to take care of the members suffering in East Germany. His father was the branch president, so he was on the receiving end of the clothes and food and other supplies the Church sent to the area. In the words of my Irish-German friend, "the Commies didn't like that." The local authorities got more and more frustrated with the influx of goods sent to the Mormons and repeatedly threatened to through his father in jail. When the threats got more serious and dangerous, the family made a run for it. The escaped safely into West Germany, where they tried to start a new life. 

Soon, though, the missionaries who'd introduced the family to the gospel reconnected with them and urged them to move to America. Once again, they uprooted their lives and moved to the United States. I've never heard somebody express such sincere gratitude for the freedoms that Americans enjoy before. He acknowledged that the country has its problems, as all countries do, but that having been on the other side and having lived so many years in fear and oppression and terrible conditions, he is grateful for the freedom and peace he's enjoyed since moving to the United States.

"Every night," he told me, "I thank Heavenly Father for a warm bed to sleep in and clean water to drink and a nice breakfast waiting for me in the morning. So many people don't have those things, so I make sure that God knows I'm grateful that I do." 

He excitedly told me about the sign he has hanging in his office at home that proclaims that Every Day Is a Gift From God. "Isn't it true, though?" He exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. 

And it's true. Every day is a gift. And I, for one, am grateful for that reminder.


So that's where I am, friends. My new job is pretty dang sweet. I miss my old coworkers, and it's strange to be working so autonomously. At BYUtv I worked pretty independently, but there were always people around. I think that this seclusion is going to take some getting used to, but I think that if that's the most negative thing about my job thus far, I'll be just golden. It's not like I'm an introvert who enjoys alone time or anything. :)

Aaaand, I'm out. 

the plan {take two}

You know, I sometimes imagine Heavenly Father looking down on me and chuckling good-naturedly at how I think that I have everything figured out. "I have a plan!" I declare triumphantly, and all He can do is smile, because He knows better.

"How precious," He must say, much in the same way that I do when I hear a seven-year-old tell me of how he plans on being a fire-fighting ninja doctor when he grows up.

But life isn't life without a perfectly solid plan changing 463 times.....right?


Let's back up a bit. Remember when I told y'all that I had a plan that goes through December? Well, I still do, it's just a tad different than I had originally planned.

Deseret Book contacted me earlier this week and informed me that if I wanted to, I could start my internship in June rather than September and still work all the way through December. My first thought upon reading this email was, "But I had a plan!!" My second thought was, "This sounds kind of perfect."

I spent the rest of the day bouncing back and forth between wanting to stay put exactly where I am and being giddy about the exciting prospect of a new opportunity at an amazing company. In a few spare minutes I had before my cycling class, I made a pro/con chart that Rory Gilmore would be proud of. After writing out every conceivable plus and minus for both options (stay at BYUtv until September or quit mid-June and work at Deseret Book until mid-December), I realized that what it all really boiled down to was one thing: money vs. experience.

As a (sort of) recent college grad, both money and experience are things that are incredibly valuable to my future and that are in short supply. When I consider my bank account, staying at BYUtv seems the better option, as it pays more, doesn't require me to fill my wardrobe with professional clothing items I don't currently own, and isn't a 46 mile commute. (Commute = $$$ for gas or $$ for a Front Runner pass)

But when I think about my career goals for the future, Deseret Book is the obvious choice. My job at BYUtv has been such a wonderful learning experience for me, and I will always be so incredibly grateful for the people who've helped me become a better editor and a better person. But I've also worked in this job for over two years, and though it saddens me, deep in my heart I know that it's time for me to move on to another job that will give me new opportunities to learn and grow.

So that's the plan. On June 19, I will say goodbye to my BYUtv family, and beginning June 22, I will officially be an editorial intern at Deseret Book. My feelings about this change are a curious mixture of excitement and sadness. I knew that my time at BYUtv was going to end soon, but it always seemed so theoretical. Now that it's real and that I have a date of departure, I feel even sadder about it.

But it's going to be great. I am genuinely excited about having new opportunities to learn and grow and work with new people. My post-grad life is coming together, and soon I'll find out what it's like to be a "grown-up" with a job and no classes. Weird.

Now all that's left is to find a second job. And buy some Big Girl clothes. And figure out where I'm living come September. And maybe hyperventilate a bit.

the plan

Guess what?? I have my life (mostly) planned out through DECEMBER.

I'm aware that this sounds a tad bit pathetic. But considering the fact that a few weeks ago, I only had a plan through August, this is progress. And I like progress, so I'm just going to be happy about it.

So here's what's up: I'm still a student. Technically.

I did the whole cap and gown walk across a stage in front of a thousand people I don't care about and like 7 people that I did care about thing in April. It was lovely. BUT according to BYU, I don't graduate until August.

Here's why: I got an internship! YAY! But it doesn't start until September. So rather than finding a full-time job that I could only keep for a few months, I decided to keep my current job at BYUtv. But it's a student job, so in order to be eligible for said job, I have to be a student.

So I'm taking New Testament, self-defense, and cycling. This is why I say I'm "technically" a student. I don't feel particularly student-y. It kind of feels like I just show up to a place where other students happen to be studying the New Testament or cycling or defending themselves and I'm like, "What a coincidence! I'm here to do that same thing!" Plus I'm having way too much fun for me to really feel like I'm a college student.

(Notice how I haven't told you where my internship is yet? I'm trying to make this suspenseful. I'm clearly not very good at creating suspense if I feel the need to tell you I'm trying to create suspense....oh well.)

After Spring term is over (June 18th, I believe), I won't take more classes and will work part-time at BYUtv and part-time at another job which is yet to be determined. (If anybody knows of an awesome off-campus part-time job preferably related to editing/writing, help a sista out, will ya?)

THEN when August happens and BYU kicks me out for real, I will cry a lot because I'll have to leave my perfect BYUtv job. Seriously, guys. I love this job. It's been such an amazing experience for me and my coworkers and boss are the bomb.com. We have themed parties every Friday that are gaining notoriety around BYUB for being awesome. Because they are awesome. Last week, for example, we had an airplane themed party. We ate airplane food ( "Would you like peanuts, pretzels, or cookies?"), attempted to make legit paper airplanes (we got SO close, but then we ran out of time and the instructions were confusing), pointed out lots of exits, and watched Delta safety videos. #besttimeofmylife

Where was I...? Oh yes. August. In August I will be leaving BYUtv (SOB!) and keeping the other dream job that I'm going to find here in a month or so and starting my (part-time) internship at (drumroll please!) Deseret Book!

I'm so excited! This internship will teach me valuable skills and give me experience that has the potential to open so many other doors for me in the world of publishing. Plus, Deseret Book's corporate headquarters conveniently looks over Temple Square. Not a bad view, if you ask me!

At this point, I don't know what is going to happen after my internship ends in December, but for right now, I'm just fine with that. Everything has worked out this far, and I have no doubt that the Lord has many more amazing opportunities in store for me come January.

letters

Today I wrote five letters. 

One to an influential elementary school teacher who—aside from my parents—was the most beneficial and appreciated guide in my road to loving the written word—both reading it and creating it. It was a letter of thanks, of reflection, of exploration. It was a letter that I hoped would express even just a portion of the gratitude I have for her dedication to teaching students to love learning and to be confident in themselves and their abilities. It was a letter that told her that her work does not go unnoticed nor unappreciated.

Past

One to my dear Sister Aase—it was a letter I've been sporadically adding scrawled sentences and paragraphs to over the course of a week and a half or so, but kept forgetting to send. I put the final touches on the letter, sealed in in an envelope with Hedwig sitting serenely in the top right corner, and slipped it in the mailbox to be picked up on Monday. It was a letter laced with obscure Harry Potter trivia and random thoughts that deserved being labeled with #onlymaddieunderstands. It said I miss you, I'm proud of you, and gee, doesn't time fly?

Present

The last three to faceless HR employees and internship directors whose offices are situated somewhere on the East Coast. These were sent electronically, and unlike the other letters I hand wrote today, they are already in somebody's inbox waiting to be read or ignored. I like to think that the recipients will slide into their office chairs on Monday, boot up their computers, and be delighted to find my cover letter and résumé patiently waiting to be opened and read. These letters attempt to show my knowledge of the company. They explain why I want the job and why I think I'm a good fit. (These letters are the hardest to write.) But realistically I know that a quick fifteen-second glance before going into the recycle bin is the most these three letters are likely to get. (But don't worry, I'll be writing more of these and distributing them across states and cities. I'm nowhere near ready to throw in the towel.)

Future

Today I wrote five letters. 

past

present

future

on dreams for the future

Last night I wandered through the rows of shelves in the HBLL that contained juvenile fiction. I ran my hands along the spines of the books, occasionally pausing and smiling when I came across a particularly beloved book from my childhood. I went about the shelves, plucking off the books I sought as I came across them, gently cradling them in my arms as if they were children themselves rather than books intended for children.

The girl at the circulation desk couldn't help but smile as she scanned my books into the system. Children's literature does that to a person, I've found. "Are these for a class," she asked, "or just for fun?"

Both, I though. "For a class," I answered out loud.

"Which one?"

"Children's Literature," I replied.

She paused and continued to scan my books. "Are you an elementary education major?" she asked.

"No," I said. "I want to go into children's publishing, so I sweet talked my way into the class."

"That's amazing," she said, and I think she was referring more to my career aspirations and less to my ability to plead a convincing case to department secretaries.



A few months ago, when somebody asked me what I wanted to do after graduation, I'd simply shrug and say something about how I'd take any job that lets me edit. And technically that's still true—to a certain extent, at least.

After graduation I do want a job that allows me to edit. But more specifically, I want a job that allows me to edit in the world of children's literature. If the Hook-Handed Thug from Tangled asked me what my dream is, that's what I'd say.

And I think that deep down, that's always been my dream. It just hasn't been until recently that I've reconciled with it and owned it enough to be able to pull that dream out of my heart and my gut and form it into words that I say out loud. Admitting what my dream is—especially a dream that's so coveted in the world of editing—is frightening. Because if I don't admit to my dream, and it doesn't happen, nobody but myself will be any the wiser. I can let my perceived failure fester quietly in my heart without alerting anybody else to my incompetence. 

But life is about having dreams, I think. And that's not to say that some—if not most—of those dreams won't fail, because they will. They'll crumble and fall apart and dissolve into a messy heap of What Could Have Been. But what's the point of living and trying and working if there isn't some dream motivating you to keep moving forward? 

And so now I openly tell people about my perfect career. I gush and smile and talk too animatedly about my idealistic dreams of providing middle grade readers with books that convince them not to give up on reading. The people I share my dream with often ask if I'd really move to a big East Coast city to work at a publishing house.

"Bet your bottom dollar I would," I say. But then I tack on a statement about how it would be utterly terrifying and I'd probably freak out a lot at the beginning, but hey, when else in my life will I be able to just up and move to New York or Baltimore or Chicago or Boston?



On Tuesday in my children's literature class, we discussed the logistics of picture books. The professor taught about verso and recto pages and explained why books must be published in certain increments of page numbers and all sorts of nitty-gritty publishing quirks. After each factoid he'd pause and say, "But you don't need to know this unless you're playing Picture Book Trivial Pursuit." 

I smiled to myself every time and thought, I need to know this. Because my dream is children's publishing. And in the publishing world you need to know about verso and recto pages and why books must be published in certain increments of page numbers and all sorts of nitty-gritty publishing quirks. 

When we turned to our groups to analyze some picture books, one of the girls in my group caught my attention. "You're the one who's going into publishing, right?"

"Yeah," I confirmed. And then I was bombarded with questions about the nitty-gritty publishing quirks, and I smiled as I realized that I'd somehow become the authority when it comes to title pages and dust jackets and the like.

Another member of the group piped in, "Is that why you've been writing down all the publishing companies from the books we've looked at today?" 

"Yeah," I confirmed once more. "I'm making a list of all the publishing houses I can so that I can search for jobs." 



The guest lecturer in my children's publishing class last night was none other than Brandon Mull. In addition to being a wildly talented author—here's where I admit that I've actually never cracked open a single of his multiple best-sellers, but that I know many people whose taste in books I trust who have and that I am committed to repenting and reading his work—he is one of the most genuinely funny, down to earth, unpretentious people I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. 

What struck me most about Brandon (aside from the aforementioned qualities, that is) was his contagious passion for his job. The life of a full-time author isn't as glamorous as we tend to make it out to be, but he loves every minute of it. I sat riveted as he spoke, his passion and enthusiasm for books and publishing and reading seeping into my very soul until I felt quite certain that I could make my dreams happen just like he did. Some people are just like that, I guess. They can lift people up and make them believe in themselves without even knowing their name.

Brandon Mull is one of the lucky ones whose dreams fell into place after years of hard work and lots of networking. Chances are, I won't be as lucky as he was. Chances are that I don't have the necessary amount of talent in my chosen field to see the kind of success he has, and chances are I'll end up just taking any job that allows me to edit. 

But I won't know until I try. 

So I'm going to try. 


And if I try and fail, I'll try again. And if I fail again, maybe I'll keep trying or maybe I'll form a new dream. And at the end of the day, if the only children's books I ever read are the ones stamped with the name of an author I've never worked with and published by a publishing house I've never worked for that I read to my warm, squirmy, sleepy children at bedtime, I'll be content. 

Because I tried. And because reading bedtime stories to warm, squirmy, sleepy children is a part of a bigger, more important dream I have. And even if my publishing dream didn't come true, if I'm reading those books to a footie pajama clad toddler, one dream did come true. And that would be enough.

baby steps to graduation

Remember how I freaked out about graduation a few days ago?

Yeah, me neither.

But I'm officially on track to transition from student to alumnus. Alum?  Alumni? Aluminum? Latin is hard. I should have been paying better attention to Gilmore Girls the other day when Rory explained the difference to Lorelai.

ANYWAY, here's all the graduation preparation stuff I did this week:

> I called the Humanities Advisement Center to make sure that all my German classes for the foreign language requirement actually are in the system. They were on my transcript, but on MyMap, the requirement wasn't labeled complete. When I realized this, I freaked out, thinking I'd somehow not taken the right number of credits. Even after counting and recounting how many credits I'd taken many times, I was still convinced that I wasn't going to be able to graduate without more German classes. I was all "BUT I HAVEN'T TAKEN GERMAN IN OVER A YEAR, AND THE RMs IN MY LAST GERMAN CLASS TREATED ME LIKE I WAS STUPID EVEN THOUGH I WAS DOING BETTER IN THE CLASS THAN THEY WERE NONONONONONO!" Needless to say, I overreacted a tad bit. Shocker. But the nice lady at the advisement center not only confirmed that my foreign language credit was actually complete, but she also was kind enough to double check all my other requirements to ensure that I'm in tip-top shape for gradumicate. (I am! Yay!)

> I registered for my last semester of classes! Weird. I have two final classes for my major (one of which I've been dreading my entire college career...) and two classes all about children's literature! One is Children's Publishing, which is a class in my department that talks about all aspects of publishing in the world of kids' lit (everything from writing to illustrating to editing) and the other is a straight up children's literature class from the Elementary Education department. It only took a billion years to get in touch with them so that I could get an add code, but whatevs. I'm pumped. I'm also toying with the idea of taking a yoga or pilates class or something. I've avoided exercise classes for three and a half years now because group exercise makes me uncomfortable. But as I told my roommate the other day, I'm very, very good at staying in my comfort zone, so maybe its time for me to try breaking out of it a little. She agreed.

> I applied for graduation! It was much less dramatic than I was expecting, so I was a tiny bit disappointed. I was kind of hoping for some balloons or confetti or at least an 'atta girl! Instead they charged me 15 bucks. Lame.

It'd be a lie to say I'm not excited to be done with school. It's also a lie to say that I feel completely prepared to face life after I leave BYU. But it's okay. I'll figure it out. Somehow I will find my way.

And it'll be great.

t-minus six months

For years I've thought about the day I would graduate college. It's the pinnacle event of my education—the mark of the end of my formal schooling. And as with most other events in life, I always thought I'd feel different leading up to it than I actually do. 

Here I am—a semester and a half away from graduation—and I don't feel anything like how I thought I would. My life is nothing like I thought it would be. 

I thought I'd feel older, more mature, and more confident. I thought I'd have a more concrete plan as to what I'd do after graduation. I thought I'd have gotten my ducks all in a row and would emerge as a BYU grad ready to conquer the world. I thought I would have gotten over my slight reclusiveness and propensity to wear pajamas as much as humanly possible. I thought I would be more comfortable meeting new people and making small talk and forming connections. And to be honest, I thought things in the dating/marriage department would be drastically different from what they are now. (Non-BYUers have a hard time understanding that, but for y'all, let me just say that it's VERY common to be married well before graduation here at the Y.)

Granted, I have about six months to accomplish the above tasks, but seeing as I haven't been able to do those things in the three and a half years since my college career began, I don't have high hopes that I'll be able to whip my butt into gear and figure out all of my life questions before I don a cap and gown. 

I remember the anticipation of graduating high school. I was excited to the point that one of my high school friends reprimanded me for "not wanting to make the most of senior year" or something like that. The moment my BYU application was in, my interest in Randall K. Cooper High School flew out the window, and I wanted very little to do with it. Yes, I was sad to leave behind my friends, but I was ready to move on and to grow up some and to find my niche in college. I was never one of those "I wish high school would never end" kind of people. (And frankly, I think those kinds of people ought to have their brains checked out, because they're loco crazy.) I think a lot of my excitement stemmed from the fact that I knew exactly what was going to happen after I graduated—I was going to work for the summer and then pack up my belongings and haul them 1,600 miles across the country to Happy Valley where I would nestle in for four years of undergraduate education. I was nervous (change always fills my stomach with big bubbles of worry), but it was time, and I knew it.

I wish that I had that now. Because even though I'm sick and tired of school—the mere mention of grad school makes me want to hurl; if that does become part of the plan, it won't be for a year or two, so I have time to find where my sanity went—the thought of leaving the educational bubble I've lived in since I was six years old is a wee bit terrifying. I've been primed my entire life to be a student. I've learned to sit through classes and take tests and do homework and study until my brain feels like it will explode.

And despite the fact that I feel relatively confident that I have the skill set needed to be able to make a living post-grad, it's the job finding/plan making that scares the bejeezus out of me. Do I stay in Utah? Do I go back to Kentucky? Do I close my eyes and point map of the United States and go where ever my finger lands? Do I drop off the face of the earth, disregard the education I spent four years obtaining, and join a traveling circus? 

Honestly that last one sounds pretty appealing right about now. I'm sure I could teach myself to grow a beard or walk on a tight rope or put my head in a lion's mouth or something. I could marry the strong man, and then we could have buff little carnie children who would have very interesting talents (think of what you could teach them if you started young!) and no social skills to speak of. I see no problem with this plan.

But in all seriousness, I feel a bit like I'm floundering. Despite my aversion to grad school as mentioned above, in a strange way, I envy my friends who are going to be starting up school again next fall as graduate students. Because even though they have a thousand years of difficult classes ahead of them, at least they have a plan. At least they know what to do with the next step. But choosing my next step tends to fill me with anxiety, so I just ignore the decision making part until the anxiety about not making a decision outweighs the anxiety of making a decision, and I begin the whole vicious cycle over again.

So if there is anybody out there who wants to make major life decisions for me, now is the time to make yourself known. Unless the traveling circus thing actually works out, in which case, I am in no need of your assistance.

things i wish i could put on my résumé

I graduate next semester. And that's scary, because it means I have to start seriously thinking about what I'm going to do post-college. And with post-college thinking comes job search thinking which leads to résumé thinking. And I'm left wondering if my résumé is up to par—is mine beefed up enough to land me a sweet job, or will I be left flipping burgers or working retail or scanning people's groceries?

So in an effort to make me feel less stressed about the whole résumé bidness, I've compiled a list of accomplishments I believe should be celebrated even though no interview question or résumé will ever include these things. Because even though they don't qualify me for any real-live job, they do qualify me for being an awesome human being. And I'm pretty sure that if any employer found out about these skills of mine, they'd hire me on the spot.


:: being able to accurately sing theme songs from childhood tv shows

:: making exactly the right amount of smoothie to fit in my favorite smoothie cup

:: speaking in a really bad Russian accent

:: changing from my normal clothes to sweats/pjs/stretchy pants within 2 minutes of being home

:: extensive movie/tv show quoting capabilities

:: waking up, showering, getting ready, and being out the door in a mostly presentable manner in 20 minutes flat.

:: flipping pancakes without the use of a spatula

:: holding the record for most goat videos watched on YouTube (this is unconfirmed, but I'm pretty confident it's true)

:: going through the alphabet several times naming something from the Harry Potter universe for each letter. 

:: creating unnecessary sound effects for nearly any action or movement


If I die never having any fancy schmancy résumé boosters, I think I'll be okay—these accomplishments seem pretty satisfactory to me.