Monthly Archives: July 2010

Goodbye Minnesota, you betcha you’ve been good to me

Today was sad. I left behind the life I so fondly knew to pursue whatever lies ahead. Well, actually I’m going to slack off at my parents house for a couple days before I pursue said life, but you get the idea.

Honestly, I’m excited and happy for my final take-off on Saturday, but at the same time, thinking about leaving my group of friends behind, so amazing and wonderful, it makes me want to uncharacteristically break out in tears. So today, rather than blog about all these silly feelings, I’m just going to share something that made me laugh with my blog readers, all three of you:

To all my wonderful Mankato friends and that state with an obnoxious number of lakes, I’ll never forget the good times. Uff dah!

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Surrealism, but not the arty kind

Does anyone remember the fantastic classic film, “Notting Hill”? I’m sure that, like myself, it’s in everyone’s top ten favorite. Not to mention, my manfriend is the spitting image of Hugh Grant (be sure to mention it to him, he just loves it).

Anyway, the end of the scene where Grant meets Julia Roberts, who is stretching her acting ability by playing an international movie star, he opens the door for her and says something to the effect of, “It’s been nice. Surreal, but nice.”

Afterward, he berates himself for saying something so stupid. To find out what happens next, you’ll just have to watch the movie (as though you already haven’t).

I relay this lovely scene because it’s now my last week in Mankato, my home for the last five years. Many people have asked me about my move. Am I excited? Nervous? Scared? Before, it was pretty much yes to all of the above. Now, I don’t really feel much of anything.

It sounds strange, but it’s too, to borrow a phrase from Grant, surreal. After all this time, I’m moving away from the Midwest? I’ve been in school for a trillion years, and now I won’t be anymore? After two and a half years of a long distance relationship, I’m going to be living with my boyfriend, excuse me, manfriend? All this happening in the Manhattan apartment I’ll be calling home? Yeah, okay, that sounds like me.

To add to this lack of sadness/excitement/anticipation, I’ve been awarded a whole lot of school work to finish up this last week. Nothing too stressful, just enough to keep my mind occupied. So instead of a bundle of crazy, my usual powerhouse, I’m just having a nice, normal week.

Surreal, but nice.

This kind of surrealism.

Not this.

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Busted

Last week, I wrote a blog with optimistic intentions. I thought I would turn this little-read, weekly blog into a regular chronicling of the next chapter of my life for my friends and family to read. Good intention, I thought.

But since this vague, promissory blog, I written no extra blogs and meeting my weekly, Tuesday deadline by finally writing Friday. Watch out journalism, here I come!

The truth is I’ve had plenty to say, and I’m sure I could make the time, but I didn’t. However, once the smoke has cleared from this whole end of school/looking for a job/saying goodbye to friend/moving/maintaining my sanity thing, then I’m sure I’ll be an extraordinary blogger with only interesting and regularly posted things to write.

It has been an interesting almost-two weeks for me. Two days after my let-down of a post, I was going nuts. I mean, seriously nuts. I know I have a tendency to be  – let’s just call it spirited – at times, but this was a new level. I was hyperventilating, I was near tears, I was shouting at myself in the bathroom mirror. “Buck up, Flaherty! You can do this! You’re awesome! You’ve got way more relevant experience than those freaks at Harvard!”

That’s right, job searching. I’d never much enjoyed it when I was filling out mindless applications for minimum-wage work, but I wasn’t aware what grown-up job searching was. It’s a methodical, endless task of extracting every possible quality you may have to a prospective employer, putting yourself out there with little return never knowing what you did wrong and knowing that in this faltering economy, there are hundreds of people more qualified than you applying for the same job (and I’m not necessarily exaggerating; some of the internships I applied for literally get thousands of applicants for one spot).

And with my personal natural insanity is further mixed with the special qualities of journalism. What clips should I use? How can I sum up in a cover letter that I’m qualified, creative, awesome, exactly what they’re looking for and write it in a way that is short, to-the-point and not too creative?

To sum up, it hurt my soul. Through the tears and anger at my parents for not being well-connected, East coast socialites with Ivy League, I got some key applications in on time. Hooray.

Over the next few days, I calmed down. Then I got a spectacular e-mail. A prestigious political magazine I had applied to actually wanted to know what my availability was! The excitement, though seemingly mundane, was just what I needed. Even if I don’t get an interview, among a trillion applications, they took the time to consider mine. I’m considerable!

In the end, this dramatic pendulum swing from insane worrying and wild contentment seems like it’s just going to be in the works for old Colleen here. At least it’ll keep things interesting.

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