Day 2- Wednesday May 12, 2010

"Today was my first full day as a West Coaster. This morning, I woke up and swaggered downstairs to be greeted by Chloe, my host family's dog. As I enjoyed a bowl of cereal, I did something I had wanted to do for a very long time.

I made a grocery list.

My passion for grocery lists began in my late high school years. This is when I realized that white bread, prepackaged lunch meat, and hostess products weren't the epitome of healthy. This was also around the same time I uncovered my passion for spicy, flavorful, and organic foods. No matter how much I begged, mom wouldn't buy Naked juice. Or an assortment of hot peppers to chop up into a deliciously fun stir-fry. Or flax and grain bread that actually has some nutrition to it.

Probably the thing I've done to anger my mother the most- to make her more mad than my piercings, my tattoo, and my participation in premarital sex- has been to become a pescatarian. This means I have stopped eating mammals and poultry. Although I have done this for a variety of reasons, it is primarily for my health. But talking to my mother would lead you to believe that my main reason behind forgoing meat has been to undermine all she has done to raise me right these past 20 years. She acts surprised, then disappointed when I politely decline her meatloaf and chili. "Yes, mom, I am aware it is delicious but it is still made of dead animals."

But today was the day I could choose for myself. With a pen and pad in front of me, I wasn't sure where to begin. But a list was compiled. I bought black beans, canned salmon, a half gallon of Naked Blue Machine, protein enriched bread, crab bisque (yum!), lettuce, onion, tomatoes, spinach, corn, veggie burgers, and minestrone! Today, I felt like I truly took charge of my diet. And boy was it good.

Maybe you think it's silly that the most exciting, empowering part of my 1st day as a West Coaster was grocery shopping. But I don't care. I've been waiting for this for a very, very long time."

These next couple posts do not follow the main plan of this blog- to blog about my internship.

But traveling away from my family has given me a lot to think about. So I wrote in my journal. And I think that this edited version is worth sharing here.

Tuesday, May 11 2010- Day 1

"If there's any possible way to sleep comfortably on an airplane, I would like to know at this time. The past three weeks have included very little sleep, and the first thing to finally droop my eyelids has been a 6 hour flight to Seattle, Washington. It's not like this trip crept up on me or anything, but the reality of it all was very sudden.

Allow me to explain why I'm 35,000 feet above the great state of Iowa or something.

5 months ago, I was utterly depressed. Maybe it's insensitive for me to say that since I have never received a diagnosis, but I believe I truly was. On January 6, 2010, my world turned topsy turvy with the death of my paternal grandfather, the cornerstone and patriarch of my very close-knit family. My whole family resides in Morgantown, WV, and this sudden explosion (literally, as his aorta ruptured,) both tore us to pieces and made us much stronger and closer. I had never dealt seriously with such great loss and grief before.

Six tear-filled, mourning-filled, devastating days after my grandfather's passing, a very emotional, testy and worn out version of myself had to move back into the dorm and begin a 20 hour course-load of school. My dorm was a cell at times, my roommate an ex-best friend with whom things would never be fully reconciled. Listening to her and her boyfriend being happy, while I should have felt happy for them, enhanced my depression but mostly made me feel very alone. I wondered if anyone would ever love me again the way my grandfather did. For who I am, for my abilities, and through the most compassionate of eyes. With the most caring heart. Wrestling with the question of being loved again included traumatic flashbacks of failed relationships- romantic and platonic. It also included a montage of my life alone, each scene myself progressively becoming grayer, fatter, and with a wider assortment of cats.

But things have turned around so much! At the beginning of February, a contact of mine, my mentor if you will, in Seattle emailed me to say that he had put out the "bait" among his network to help me obtain an internship for summer 2010. With all the trauma, drama, and turmoil, I had all but forgotten a conversation I'd had with my mentor in early December, shyly expressing interest in a summer intern position.

Now, I had to do stuff. You know, get my shit together. If I was ever going to make something of myself, the first thing I needed to do was drag myself out of the muck I was in. "Because this may be my turning point," I thought, "This may be the beginning of an excellent opportunity." And I was very, very right.

Within nearly a month, through the use of social media, fancily worded emails, and the expert guidance of my fabulous mentor, I had been offered two positions. One was at a public relations firm, and the other at a social marketing company. I chose the one that offered compensation, because nothing makes less sense to a large rural Appalachian family than traveling cross country to some big city to work for free.

This deal was sealed at the end of February, and I couldn't have been more excited. Finally, a real escape from Morgantown, the drama, the humidity, and the monotony. A real chance to learn and explore my future career firsthand. And that is why I'm here today, flying above the clouds."