Catching Up With March

The thought of not having a single post for the month of March sent me into a tiny panic, especially considering that my my two-year blogiversary was on the 15th of this month. Yay, go me, wish I could have given it a big how-de-do like last year! But I guess two years isn't as exciting in blog anniversaries as it is in relationships, sobriety achievements, or employment security, at least not when you haven't been able to blog much, if any, lately.

Right now, I'm working on a huge field study for one of my classes on my Spring Break. Did I mention that Spring Break in grad school is kind of a joke? Thus far, I've done three classroom observations, caught up on housework, helped J move, and worked on the four papers I have due shortly after returning to class next week. I've been daydreaming about warm beaches and fruity drinks a lot, but it's not the same as the real deal.

Oh, did I mention I moved earlier this month myself? S and I got kicked out of our old house by the aforementioned banshee of a roommate for various reasons, including but not limited to a coffee maker. It was an added stress to us in every way to have to relocate, but now that we have our own cute, little cottage without drama and with plenty of working appliances, we're much happier. Even my dog is palpably more happy.

I have so much to say, but the inability to remember it. The only thing fueling my exhausted brain these days is coffee, so instead, enjoy these things I've been into lately:

Yeah, but what about the 89 OTHER body types? God, fashion designers, you stress me out.

The overwhelmingly positive response from most of the country concerning gay marriage rights.

Actresses Without Teeth, in one of those "This is so horrifying, it's uncomfortably funny" kinds of ways.

All the Game of Thrones press leading up to the third season premiere. TOMORROW, TOMORROW, I LOVE YOU, TOMORROW. YOU'RE ONLY A DAY AWAYYYYYY.










Seeing Sara Bareilles in May, and seeing John Mayer in September. (His tickets aren't on sale yet, but I'm trying to have some positive self-fulfilling prophecy go on here...)

October Gonnas

I've been going through days of high productivity and others of utter laziness, but I can't really complain about either. The rest of the month, however, will be jam-packed with activities both fun and functional. Here goes...

Recently, I finally checked off a baking DIY I've been eyeing for months. Check out the recipe and photos here!

Then we've got this dainty list that I will be slowly chiseling away at over the course of the next 26 days:

I've also got my best friend's wedding to look forward to in the middle of the month, daily errands, lovely weekend plans, HALLOWEEN, and I'm sure some unexpected events will pop up out of the depths as they always do.

It's gonna be a whirlwind. I can't wait!

Don't forget: if there simply aren't enough gonnas for you here, email me at imgonnadothatgirl@gmail.com with any suggestions!

Selling Our Souls

We never think we're going to be the ones to miss out on fulfilling our dreams. "I'll be the one who makes it. I will get that CEO's desk, that TV pilot, that slot at the motherfucking MOMA!" Each and every one of us just knows that we're never gonna surrender. Oh.... but then we do. The moment comes where we have to compromise or postpone that first step in a lifelong goal, and when it does, it's surreal.

I've hit this type of unsavory speed bump recently. It's not that I'm complaining about my position in life. I'm actually happy for a number of reasons, and I would be full of shit (or completely ungrateful) if I didn't acknowledge how privileged I am. I am simply always striving for more, perhaps in vain, but probably because I know there is more out there, waiting. There are places to see, things to discover!

But the reality for all of us is that to send yourself out into the world and do what you love, you often have to do something you hate, or kinda-sorta-maybe like, to fund yourself. Even the funnest of jobs can't replace the career you've dreamed of since you were old enough to remember.

I've written about this before, but we've all been tricked into thinking that we can just do whatever we want, whenever we want, by the generation that came before us. We're lulled into a false sense of entitlement and we're seriously alarmed when we don't find it waiting for us after graduation day. Instead of sitting pretty, boozing and living it up "Mad Men" style, we're behind cash registers at grocery stores we don't even shop at when our cabinets run dry. We dull our creativity, we convince ourselves it's okay, and we take what we can in the hopes that one day we can be what we want.

Face it - selling your soul to the man, even for a short period of time, is unsettling. The idea of having to feed into a machine you know is broken is almost stupid. No, fuck that. It IS stupid. I'm tired of being stupid.

I want to write and here I am doing it. I'm not doing it nearly as often as I'd like though, because I have to fill my days with the responsible shit adults are supposed to do, left with only the energy to do anything but afterward. However, that's not really good enough anymore. Like I said, I'm always wanting more, and it's time to get it. Sure, I'll continue this soul-selling gig, but I am finally making it secondary to the things and people I love, including this little ol' blog.

And here we are: Yes, I am still gonna'ing, but my schedule is so hectic and ever-changing that right now a to-do list would be impossible to construct and boring to read. I do, however, have an idea to fill the days where there are no gonnas to report.

What, like I'd tell you before I unveiled it? Psssh, please. You're just gonna have to keep reading. Don't front! You know you're just as excited as when J.K. Rowling cryptically announced Pottermore.

I promise I'll try to do a better job at the surprise aspect of the big reveal though. Coming to the Internet near you on Friday. See ya then...

Shopping for a Shanty

Searching for an apartment is one of the worst things a young 20-something has to go through. Sure, we have to pay off our student loans with only shit-paying jobs, and sure, maybe the dating scene can be hard if you've watched too many 90s rom-coms, but real estate is where the real problems are.

I thought going from a small, over-crowded college town to a semi-bustling Southern metropolis would ease the pain of searching for a decently priced abode, but it really just complicates the mess further. If you find a place your wallet can handle, it's in a part of town where you're almost guaranteed to get robbed or shanked. If you find a safe place, they will hit you over the head with the price. If you want to search for roommates via Craigslist to find a happy medium, you have to do so with Marty, a 41-year-old man who smokes inside and has 5 cats.

When you finally decide which luxury to give up - safety or money - you have to start narrowing down your options. You have to gather the contact info for these house hustlers and make some kind of connection with a human in order to let them know you're kind of digging what they're putting down. You have to drive around town to survey the neighborhoods with tears streaming down your face because you're lost and the jackass behind you JUST DOESN'T UNDERSTAND THAT THE SPEED LIMIT IS THE SPEED LIMIT! You have to tour all of the apartments because let's be honest, even the shittiest of roach infested dens can be hidden with a shiny exterior. You have to fill out form upon form, write check upon check, and then maybe... maybe you've finally found your overpriced, 500-something square foot hovel to get shitfaced and sleep in for the next 12 months.

The real kick in the ass is that in the end, we love the hell out of these apartments. Yes, we can't afford real food or alcohol, we steal our neighbor's WiFi, and we drag our laundry to our parents' house, but it is a space to call our own.

So here's to the nights of PBR and ramen on the floor of a half-furnished hole-in-the-wall I will hopefully find sooner rather than later, and to those 20-somethings who are already enjoying their evenings in their post-grad lean-to's.