I’ve been hesitant to start a blog.
To be completely honest, I’ve always found them to be mostly self-indulgent. “Look at me — I can string together words to form sentences about things sometimes.”
A mentor once told me that you should refrain from writing in first-person as much as possible to increase the credibility of your other writing. He also told me that you’re only allowed one exclamation point in your career!
Blew that one real quick. So screw it all, I guess? Here I am — no turning back. Sorry, sir.
For those who don’t know me — I recently moved away from Wisconsin, the only home I’ve ever known, to work my first job out of college.
I now reside in Gillette, Wyoming: the Energy Capital of the Nation. Kind of fitting for someone who, despite numerous attempts to cut the habit, chugs Mountain Dew like it’s going out of style. But let’s face it, Yellow No. 5 will always be in.
Honestly, I’ve learned more about life and myself in the four months I’ve been here than in my first 21 years combined:
- You can’t buy booze at convenience stores here.
- If you want a confidence boost, wear cutoff shorts to Wal-Mart. Instant celebrity status.
- Silence and being alone is OK.
- Some things that were hammered into your brain in college are absolutely irrelevant in the “real” working world.
- If you want to make a fool of yourself, hit on the blue-eyed, corn-fed Nebraskan.
- Not everyone knows about cheese curds. It really is a travesty.
*And perhaps most importantly — life is all about choices. You can choose to be miserable and hide under a sheet of packaged cookie dough. OR you can make the most of each and every moment and do whatever feels right at the time, no matter how ridiculous it may seem. It probably will still involve cookie dough.
Life is an adventure, and so far this particular chapter has brought me a peacock feather tattoo, a surprising newfound appreciation for the gym and lots of acne from the water here. Blackheads or not — adventure on, my friends.
For more ultra-personal anecdotes, random thoughts and remarks, feel free to check back. There will be much, much more.
And for a special treat, here’s a beautiful poem from my future roommate, who recited this to me while choreographing a hip-hop dance routine:
I went out to eat.
I had some steak.
Then I had some cheesecake.
Now I want to throw up.
I regret my decision.
I’m going to die.