Anyone who knows me knows that I love to talk. I can talk for hours about anything, to anyone. During recruitment, my sorority sisters would always volunteer me to do all the talking because “I could talk to a tree all day if I had to.” While browsing in the bookstore a few days ago, I ended up talking to a random police officer that I met for an hour and a half. This type of thing happens to me almost every time I go anywhere by myself. I simply have a lot to say. In fact, sometimes I have so much to say that my mouth can’t keep up with my brain and my words come out in a language that I’ve never heard before. Continue reading ““You’re Too Much””
As many of you know, I began my big girl job working with Connecticut lobbyists a few weeks ago. I begin every morning by sending out a report of what happened in the Senate and the House of Representatives on the previous day. To make sure I didn’t miss anything, I look over the “journals” put out by both chambers, outlining things like which bills were passed and who voted which way on each bill. The House always begins with a prayer, and because I’m normally in a rush while reading through the journal, it’s something I usually skip over. This morning, I had a few extra minutes, and found the time to read it.
This post begins with a big fat womp. Throughout the past few weeks, a lot of things were happening in my life that I did not originally view as positive changes, and I had not been feeling motivated to reach any of the goals that I’d set for myself. I was questioning all of the decisions I had made about my education and career so far. I was even considering ending my paralegal studies program and dropping one of my majors, because I was stressing out about the thought of it consuming my life for the next few months. I called my parents to tell them that I was thinking about changing some things about my education, ready to support my decision with a million reasons why it was the right one. Before I even got the chance, their advice stopped me in my tracks. Continue reading “Don’t Be A Quitter”
A few months ago, I was staying at my grandmother’s house in North Carolina. She was looking to get rid of some books, and gave a ton to my mom and I to take home. One in particular caught my eye, and I picked it up right away. I ended up finishing The Street Lawyer by John Grisham in less than one day – having no idea that it would change my life. The story opened with the scene of a homeless man who broke into a large corporate law firm and held several attorneys hostage while he demanded justice, then eventually killed himself. Throughout the rest of the book, the reader was taken through the journey of a young attorney’s quest to figure out why that homeless man chose his specific law firm, and what motivated him to commit suicide. He ended up leaving his lavish lifestyle the firm provided him to become a ‘street lawyer,’ which is essentially an attorney who works without compensation for homeless people and panhandlers who have legal business they need taken care of. Continue reading “My Interview with a Homeless Man”
This is something my uncle used to tell all of his classes when he used to teach middle school math. When the students were introduced to a new concept, they would immediately tell him that they were not able to do it, whining I caaaan’t. He told them, “I can’t” is dead. As you may have guessed, I was definitely one of those annoying middle schoolers who complained and whined about math class, absolutely using the phrase I can’t every other minute. It’s no secret that I used to hate nothing more on this earth than mathematics, despite my uncle’s best efforts to get me to believe that it wasn’t so horrible – quizzing me on my multiplication tables every time he came to my house. I’ll never forget that seven times eight is fifty-six. However, thankfully, this post is not about math (sorry, Uncle Steven) but instead about positivity.
As you definitely know by now, I am always telling someone to get a diary (and if you didn’t know that, read how the phrase originated here). I’m usually saying this in response to someone complaining, often as a joke. But what most people don’t know is that when I whip out my signature catchphrase, I’m actually being serious. I truly believe getting a diary is a good idea. Continue reading “Okay, So You Got Your Diary… Now What?”
A lot of people always ask me how I have the funds to do things, for example; like going to California on a whim, or buying a new purse, and I never really know how to answer that question. I was brought up with the ideology that talking about money is crass and rude, and that everything concerning the topic should be kept absolutely private. My parents have never disclosed any information about their finances with me, and I’ve never asked. I haven’t shared anything about my own with them, or anyone else, either. The only time I’ll make a comment concerning money is when I joke about having $1 in my wallet (which occurred this morning, actually).
For as long as I can remember, my parents have been hounding me to save my money. When I was younger, they used to pay me an allowance of $2 a month (yep, I meant to type ‘month’) and made me save all of it. Because of how much they stressed the importance of saving money, I have always tried my best to do what they had told me. Continue reading “Saving Your Money: A Guide”
These two words seem simple to me, but I have noticed recently that they actually scare a lot of people. When I find myself in a situation that I don’t like, I try to somehow weasel my way out of it. By putting it that way, some of you may be thinking that I’m making myself sound like a con artist, or a cheater, or someone who condones bending the rules. But I’m not. I just ask questions. For example, a friend and I were on the Cape last weekend and wanted to go out on my boat, but we both had our cars and you need a special sticker to park in the harbor’s parking lot. We were only going to be there for a couple hours, but it would have cost $15 to park her car, and we didn’t have any cash. A lot of people I know would have felt dejected and chosen a different plan for their day, but I chose to ask the parking attendant if there was a solution to our problem. He let us park.
Oftentimes, people miss out on opportunities – both big and small – because they’re afraid of asking questions. But what’s the worst that can happen? The answer will be no. Oh well, at least you tried. Nothing bad would ever come of just asking. Continue reading “Just Ask”
Every morning, I wake up at 5:30 to get ready and make it to the train station for 6:30. I sit on the crowded train for an hour and forty five minutes, and then I walk five more minutes to work. Sometimes, I find myself cursing my morning commute the entire ride to Boston. Why do I have to live so far away? Why should I have to pay $23 to get to work and back everyday? Why does my employer only reimburse me for less than 10% of what I pay to get there? And you know what I’ve found by repeatedly asking myself these questions? Nothing. The only thing that cursing my morning commute brings me is negative energy to start my day. Continue reading “Don’t Sweat the Little Things”