Someday, I want to fall in love with someone who will read the Sunday Times and drink coffee with me. We’ll trade sections and read Frank Rich and Modern Love aloud.
Doesn’t that sound lovely?
Someday, I want to fall in love with someone who will read the Sunday Times and drink coffee with me. We’ll trade sections and read Frank Rich and Modern Love aloud.
Doesn’t that sound lovely?
I have never been driven or inspired by money. Money doesn’t equal happiness, etc., etc.
However, last night, my mindset shifted just a little bit.
I’m working on that problem as we speak. I always forget what a bitch it is to not have Internet. Maybe it’s time to finally invest in that data plan on my phone or an aircard…
But for now, I’ve learned that the Borders, which is a 10-minute walk from my house, has free Wi-Fi.
When my feet hurt like hell, it usually means it was a good day.
Examples:
– Ballroom dance practice
– Graduation day (my beautiful shoes just weren’t broken in enough)
– Wandering around and whining in New York because I had blisters from wandering around DC the night before
So why do my feet hurt like hell today?
Because today was the first day of the rest of my life.
Originally written on Sunday (thus explaining the intro), but I didn’t have the house photo, so it got posted late!
Generally speaking, Sunday mornings have been good to me these last couple of years. I’d wander out of my bedroom, brew a pot of coffee, drag my laptop out onto the kitchen table and contemplate breakfast. Then Amy would wander out of her bedroom, talk about eggs/toast/cereal, and take a seat next to me. By this time, my laptop would be open, and I would start reading random news items aloud. I leaned toward the more absurd (once, a bunch of pirates attacked a Finnish ship that flew under a Maltese flag in Swedish waters). Every once in a while, the random person sleeping in our living room would join us at the kitchen table.
Whoa.
This group shot is from the j-school’s Facebook page. Notice, I am dead center and super tan. More photos to come.
Also, I’m living up to my Twitter Queen title and live tweeting the entire ceremony. How else am I going to keep myself entertained for 3.5 hours? Follow along at @jmestepa or #nevadagrad2010.
After reading this, this and this about Facebook privacy issues, I thought about deleting my account. The conclusion I came to is that I simply can’t, for the same reason that I kept my MySpace for three years longer than I wanted to — I want to use Facebook to keep in touch with people, especially since I’m graduating and moving.
I’m under no delusions that Facebook is actually private anymore. It may have been once upon a time when it first started, but things have changed drastically since then. I know everything I post will just make it out into the Facebook-sphere and the Web anyway.
When I was 11, I had to do a project on my hero for one of my classes. For lack of a better idea, I decided to do it on my mom. At the time, it seemed like an easy solution.
Ten years later, I finally realize that my 11-year-old self was right on the target.
7 days until graduation.
11 days until I move out of my house in Reno and head to Vegas.
17 days until I fly across the country to DC.
I still have so much to finish, but once it’s done, it’s done. I have to start packing this weekend. It hasn’t quite hit me yet.
P.S. I received the top new media/online student award from the j-school. It’s nice to know they think I have a future 🙂