Yesterday marked my very last day of school, so I was too upset/confused/anxious to blog. Then: five o'clock rolled around and my roommate and I met friends for happy hour; by seven, her and I came back to the house for one of the most special senior-focused events with all of our sisters; and once the clock had struck eleven, I had cried about nine gallons of tears. I feel so much better. Late last night, I went out and celebrated everything, all of it--the past four years, the people I've met along the way, the memories we've had.
"Forever young, I want to be, forever young."When I got back from my year abroad, I posted about souvenirs; the word holds so much more meaning in the French language and literally translates as memories. I love this idea so much. It's the realization that no matter what the future holds, we never lose the past--the friends we've made, the things we've done, the places we've seen. We carry our memories with us forever, they're never lost, and the most important ones are never forgotten.
"I hope you dance."
Phew! Now that that's settled, let's venture into the unknown with confidence. Here's a little background about my career aspirations: When I was little, I wanted to be a veterinarian. I was not one to play with dolls or barbies so I surrounded myself with stuffed animals instead, and ran a vet office out of the closet next to my room. Unfortunately, I threw myself into my work so quickly that I got burnt out before the age of seven. By that time, I had my heart set elsewhere; I was going to be a teacher. A bossy girl at heart, I led the after-school kids my mom watched in lessons in our basement. I had a great little kit with all of the elementary school teacher necessities like stickers and a pointer. It was fun for all... until they lost interest. Not one to have the virtue of patience down quite yet, I moved on quickly to art.
I was somewhat gifted in my artistic abilities; I was an all-star in art class when most students were focusing elsewhere, but I knew I needed more practice. I went to art camp, participated in theater-after school programs, took photography and poetry classes, and by sixteen, was attending Saturday courses at F.I.T. to craft a portfolio. Somewhere around fourteen years of age, I had also become set on becoming an interior designer. I collected books, followed the industry, and soon signed up for an interior design class alongside my fine arts portfolio one at F.I.T. I hated it.
My Communication Law professor said Monday that we are all artists; our field requires skill, talent, and craft; we take a group of facts and organize them, and so it is our art that writes a story our way. Incredible.
Well, now that I am actually somewhat of a grown-up, all those dreams of the future have a chance to become a reality. It's scary but exciting, and amazing to look back at all of the things to get to where I am now. What did you want to be when you grew up? Tomorrow afternoon I have my first real interview. It's for a job within social media and the online world, a recent development in the plan for my future. I don't want to get my hopes up, but my fingers are definitely crossed. Are you loving what you're doing now? No matter what, I will soon enough be working in the real world. I guess that's my queue to focus my brainstorming on some hobbies :).
"Ready or not, here I come..."Words: D. Alvarez, Photos: Kate Ottomanelli
P.S. HAPPY CINCO DE MAYO!