Lions, Tigers, and Retail Jobs?

I have been wanting to write this for a while.  I have known exactly what I wanted to say, but I didn't want to get in trouble or something.  Not that anything I am about to say WOULD get me in trouble.  Because unlike most people (or at least, most people that I have met...) I LOVED my retail job.  I loved it so much that I'm currently trying to figure out a way to get transferred so that I can work my retail job on the SIDE of (hopefully.....) having a full time job as well.

So I'll just start in on it.  I started working at Madewell in September (2015, of course) when they opened their first Oklahoma location at Penn Square in Oklahoma City.  I have worked at Jamba Juice, I have worked for the federal government, I have worked for an NGO, and I have worked in the world of local politics.  But never have I ever (yeah, take a drink, go ahead) worked in the wonderful world of retail.  

During Panhellenic recruitment, I met Miles Kelly.  Miles is easily the most beautiful and well dressed man I have met, I'll admit it.  Anyone who meets him through me is always like "OMG I LOVED HIS STYLE!!!" and asks how I know him.  He's a GA at OU and works at J Crew.  Now it makes sense, right?  How the kid manages to dress so sharp.  With Madewell being a J Crew sister company, Miles knew one was opening in Penn Square and next thing I knew, I was interviewing over the phone with my soon-to-be manager, Marissa.  I'll name drop, because I literally love all of these people.  

September started with training.  Chelsea was my...training manager?  I guess?  I almost feel like that makes her sound as if she's a pledge trainer.  But I was not a Madewell pledge and she was definitely much nicer than any pledge trainer I've ever met.  It was a lot of confusing paper work, with a number of questions and a lot of training videos.  Let's be real for a second though; I lived in leggings and t-shirts for the three years of my college career.  It was time to get clothes that I could actually, oh, I don't know, be a functioning adult in???  I was super pumped to be joining a company who had jeans that are ACTUALLY as great as they advertise, not to mention the tops and the SHOES.  Goodness.  Oh, and the bags too.  Over my few months there, I quickly acquired a Madewell wardrobe; I began to gain confidence not only in how I styled myself whenever I prepared to go to work, but gained confidence in how I dressed every single day.  I loved going to work, despite the drive to Penn Square being a bit long.  I started to get to know a little bit about each of my managers. Marissa loves timing--all tasks have a set time for when they should be done.  Kendra would have every single thing in the store organized in a rainbow kind of way, because she loves color, if she could.  Casey owned every single courier and flannel that the store got in stock, and then the ones online too.  Chelsea never left anything to question--that is, in the way that every time she explained something, there was no room for error or for misunderstanding.  There was more to each of them, but let me tell you right now how hard it was to get to know my managers in the middle of holiday season.  

I obviously met a few coworkers here and there too and even became close to a few of them.  From Darshell to Michelle to Abney to Murphy.  I was getting to know them better because our schedules would overlap.  The holidays are everything in retail, that's something else I learned.  Every kind of customer comes into the store--my favorites were always the men, as they were often scrambling to find a gift for a wife/fiance/girlfriend or even more difficult--their daughters.  Black Friday is not nearly as bad as the media makes it out to be; there are the early shoppers, and then the late shoppers. The late shoppers are few and far between.  They come in spurts, because most of them either pulled an all nighter like they were college kids again or because (like most of you...) they don't have the patience for Black Friday shopping.

I loved it though.  I quickly became more comfortable putting outfits together, recommending what kind of jeans people would like (AND GETTING IT RIGHT ON THE FIRST TRY!!!!), and even at the cash register.  The cash register for me, was the worst.  I was panicky, wanted to get things done quickly, just bag it up and let the customer go so that my clumsiness or fumbling with their fresh new threads would not bug them.  But I mastered it.  There is definitely a graceful way to go about it.

Did I mention this was my first retail job?

So, Tuesday was my last day at my job.  By now, two of my friends and sisters had been hired on--only adding to the fun of being at Madewell, and we had even had a sort of employee-bonding event to go bowling in OKC.  Let me tell you something, I FULLY recommend doing this with your fellow employees if you can.  It's so cool to get to see a bit of your coworkers outside of the workspace.  I loved it.  I cannot rave enough about how much I enjoyed my job.  

Literally, I can't stop.  So I'm going to keep going.  I typically took the opening shifts so that I could get back to Norman for class.  The opening shifts were early and it meant leaving Norman no later than 7 AM, but it was worth it.  I am a chatty Cathy.  You all know this.  I felt like I got to spend a large amount of time before we actually opened the store in the morning just getting to know the manager that I was opening with.  I got to talk politics, college, classes, sports, clothes, traveling.  You name it, I probably talked about it.  And that's actually great.  Do you know how awesome it is to be able to connect with someone on ANY level over conversation?  It's great.

Which brings me to my next point.  The CUSTOMERS.

I love customers.  In every way, shape, and form.  Honestly, my favorite feeling is when you help someone--it could be a mom with an outdated wardrobe, a teenager looking for something to wear to a Christmas party, a college kid trying to find something snappy-casual to wear to a concert--find something that they not only love, but that you can literally FEEL their confidence radiating off of them simply because they have on the perfect top, the perfect jeans, the perfect dress.  All of it.  I just love helping people, I guess.  And of course, once again, I'm a chatty Cathy.  I'm just going to give you all three separate cases here that I had happen to me all in one week.

The first: Marsha

Marsha was a gem.  She came in and I remember asking her if I could help her find anything.  She was asking about how long we had been in Oklahoma--she was from New York.  I, of course, asked her why on earth she was here when...well, NEW YORK CITY for crying out loud.  Turns out she was writing a script for a new movie that she says will be called Kissed.  Some of it is meant to be based out of Oklahoma.  She started asking me about what it was like to grow up here, and so forth.  I told her it was all right but that I was a transplant--I was born in Virginia, I just have been here since I was four years old, but I'm moving to DC soon anyway.  She was intrigued, started to ask me more questions, until we began to laugh at how backward the state seems to be (mainly our legislature, she joked) and how different it is than living on the coast.  About an hour went by with Marsha still chatting it up with me.  Soon, she was wishing me the best of luck in DC, talking about how I must leave Oklahoma to "find the government", and giving me her contact information--she thought I was funny!!!!!  People like Marsha are the reason I am the way I am.  Aka, she encourages my humor.  Marsha made my entire day that day.  She was older, but quirky and one of those people who can just think on their feet.  She invited me out for drinks before I leave for DC!  Nonetheless, I will keep you updated; I'm leaving soon and do not think that her schedule will work with mine.

The second: Amy

I'll call her Amy because for some reason, her name escapes me.  She was young.  A twenty-something.  When I asked her if she was shopping for any special occasion, she responded with, "Well, yeah, sort of.  I'm leaving for Europe tomorrow morning and...",

I said, "...and you need something that you can basically wear for 15 hours of traveling that is slouchy and comfortable, but acceptable to wear in public and that you won't be freezing in."

Yes, exactly what she was looking for.  My favorite shoppers are the ones who are shopping to travel, because I obviously love traveling.  I helped Amy here and there with a few of our solid mix-and-match pieces. We chatted for a bit until she was ready to check out.  It was the early morning on a week day, maybe a little after 10 AM, when Amy came in so I was able to stay with her while she tried things on and tell her what I recommended, and so forth.  As she's paying, I asked if she was maybe a college student or a teacher--Madewell and J Crew offer a 15% discount!  She says yes, she's a teacher, but she does not have an ID.  Instead, she logs onto the portal for her school.  As I'm ringing her up, she cannot stop expressing out grateful she is for a store like ours to be offering a 15% discount to teachers.  Once again, the conversation turned to our convoluted legislature and she mentioned that she was actually a photographer on the side--photography was something she was talented with and something that she could depend on for steady money.  She was going to Europe to do a shoot!  But her first love was early childhood education and her pre schoolers--of which she was now averaging 30+ in a class for.  She said, "Rachele, do you know how hard it is to even use the restroom during the day because you cannot leave a room of 4-5 year olds alone, but you cannot ask another teacher to watch over them because then that teacher now has 60 kids to look after on her own?  It's hard."  I said hey, why don't you just move out of Oklahoma and teach?  Smaller classes, definitely better pay (aren't we ranked at like, 51 for teacher pay now....?), and probably a chance to use the restroom during the day.  She said "Because I love what I do and these are the kids who need someone like that.  Right here, in Oklahoma, because they are being robbed blind for the chance to gain a decent education."  Wow.  She was tearing up when she left; I said Amy, are you all right?  She said, "Yes, I just have not been given the chance to talk to anyone about how I feel as a teacher nor have I ever been inside of a store that has offered a discount like that.  Thank you."  Safe to say, I would not have been surprised if she had just hugged me and broken down in the store.  But she didn't!  I hope she nailed that trip to Europe too.

The third: Donna

We'll call her Donna because I don't remember her name either.  She was also older, looking for some staple pieces like the crewnecks that we carry.  Donna dragged her husband along.  Naturally, he did not seem too terribly thrilled to be shopping with his wife.  As he (we can call him Don...) told me, him and his wife were from Dallas.  Once again, I said, what in the world are y'all doing HERE?  He said, "Well, the Beach Boys have a concert tomorrow and we're going!  But we had to stop at Winstar (insert his eye roll here) on the way up.  I don't gamble, but my wife definitely loves to gamble.  Now, we're just waiting for the show tomorrow.  We've been up here before, when my nephew graduated from OU."  I said, oh, I just graduated from there!  My favorite place in the world.  Of course, the basic question about my major and what my plans are for post-grad started to happen.  I told him my major, I'm moving to DC, so forth.  Him and his wife were so intrigued that International Security Studies were even a thing!  I helped her find an outfit for the concert the following evening and continued my conversation with him about the security of our nation (I'm a total geek about this stuff, okay?) and the different organizations that ISS (my major) could possibly introduce me into.  By the end of checking them out, they both hugged me and wished me luck on "all of my future endeavors". I told them I was jealous they got to see the Beach Boys (hellooooo, you're talking to a girl who only listened to Elvis and the Beach Boys for a solid year as a kid...) but enjoyed them while they were in the store.  Do you know how nice it is to have a pair of strangers pep-talking your future?  It's wonderful.

The customers, my managers, my coworkers.  All of these people brought me something to the table that I could not have bargained for before.  But more importantly, I realized it was the company that really had me caught up in my feels.  By feels, I mean that I cried when I got to my car after leaving the store that I had pretty much called my second home (only second to the Bizz, aka the library at OU) for nine months.  After hugging Darshell, Marissa, and Casey and realizing that goodbye is real.  These are people that will carry on completely normal lives while I carry on with mine yet they do not realize the impact they've had on me.  It is the same with the customers who have come in and chatted with me about college, traveling, and so forth just as it is the same with the company as a whole.  I will pep talk Madewell for the rest of my life because this has been one of the best part time jobs I have EVER held.

So there you have it, kids.  Go find yourself an awesome company, a store full of do-gooders, and have at it.  I encourage you all to go into retail.  Even if it's briefly or just to line your pockets a little thicker than they are from your full time job.  I also had some pretty awesome outfits for my senior pics that mostly came from Madewell, so I'll include those (PHOTO CREDS TO MY GIRL LAURA POLANCO!) below too.  In the mean time, I'll be here being nostalgic and missing my part-time retail job that included some full-time friends.

When I started counting my blessings, my whole life turned around.

-Willie Nelson

Why your girlfriend will probably hate me, is already thinking about hating me, or actively expresses that she hates me

So it's dead week of my final week of college, EVER.  And that's great, right?  Well, kind of I guess.  I'm pumped to graduate but don't know what I'm doing next.  I haven't slept in a while, but ya know, I'll survive.  I may not be healthy for a while, but I'll survive.

Like I always address in the beginning of any blog entry, I blog because it makes me feel better.  It's like, naturally alleviating my stress.  I also wanted to post this blog because I know I have friends out there who can relate but would never admit it.  Well, at least not over the likes of a blog.  I might throw some shade, but I won't name drop because most of these situations are long gone and irrelevant; but if you think there's shade being thrown your way--well, you are probably a guilty party.

I AM AN OPEN BOOK PEOPLE!  Not really, but if you ask me a question, I guarantee you a straight answer every time.  So I'm going to open up a bit more to the public and tell y'all a bit about myself.

It started in the eighth grade.

You might not think that it's possible because I mean, even as an eighth grader I think a little bit of me was like "WTF?".  I had a best friend.  I won't name him.  He dated a girl for 8 months (literally, eighth grade y'all...) and month number 8, she Facebook messaged me "STAY AWAY FROM HIM OR ELSE!!!! K thanks :)"

Thus, started the never-ending cycle of girls who have this seemingly large yet insignificant problem with me.  I just sort of shook it off in the eighth grade, because a month later, they weren't dating anymore and homeboy was still my BFF (OR NAH, the plot only thickens later so wait for it) and well...eighth grade.  It was an awkward time for all of us.

But then we moved into ninth grade.  Yo, being a freshman was rough.  I know that those of you who were stuck at Owasso Mid-High remember the number of stink bombs set off before school, during lunch, and even right before we all left for athletics.  I can't say I remember any more than the one girl having a problem with me back then (lol @ Thad, you know who I'm talking about....) but sweet Jesus, I would not have had a problem with me either.  Talk about awkward.

Onto sophomore year.  Hot dog, what a year.  Same boy who's girlfriend had a problem with me in eighth grade now has a new girlfriend.  Who also has a problem with me.  Let me remind you guys of something: I WAS STILL REALLY AWKWARD.  I have not changed much, but I can say with confidence that I am a little less awkward.  I was never a threat to any relationship or whatever they were called in high school, but here I was again, stuck in the middle.  I should include that this boy is actually now married to a girl who FB messaged me during my sophomore year of college to tell me she was uncomfortable with him texting other girls.  After a solid, oh who knows, 7 years of friendship?  It's fine though.  Safe to say, we don't talk anymore.

Junior year, I hit my growth spurt and puberty all at once.  I didn't exactly blossom into the graceful swan that many tend to transform into once they hit puberty.  More like...a graceful white elephant in a room full of swans.  Boys started giving me actual compliments and I never knew how to take them, so I usually brushed it off with a joke or said thank you and skulked off trying to figure out if the comment was sarcastic or not.  I will tell you one thing though, I shocked everyone at junior prom.  JAMBA GIRL IN A PROM DRESS?  Who would've even thought that was possible?!

But that was the beginning of my next bout of issues.  My best friend from my junior year of high school began dating a girl who...well, had her fair share of problems with me for reasons unknown.  And actually "bullied" me with her group of friends for a while.  I use bullying loosely because a lot of it was over Twitter or by pouring syrup and crackers all over my car in the middle of July, but nonetheless, it happened.  Let's be real, it made the summer before my senior year of high school a living hell.  If it hadn't been for Mel, I probably would have lost my cool.

Senior year got a little easier but...well, not really at all. HA!  Who am I kidding.  So let's skip to the good parts.  I graduated high school, I had plenty of friends, all of that crap, but I couldn't wait to get to college because I thought that was a whole vat of mature kids that would let me have my friends and just chill.  

Wooooo, was I wrong.  When I graduated high school, I had friends that were anywhere from five years older than me all the way to five years younger than me.  And that's great!  I'm very people oriented.  I love my friends.  So on, so forth.  So freshman year of college when my friends back home had "significant others" who still had issues with me, I started distancing myself from..well, Owasso in general.  I ripped down all of my pictures from high school and replaced them with pictures from my first semester at OU and quickly got over it.  It took me a while to get into routine at OU and kind of find my niche, as surprising as that is, but I found it and I made friends!  Shout out to you, Hunter Birkhead, for becoming my first best guy friend that I made in college!  Then freshman year ended.  Summer began.  Had to spend another one in Owasso, surrounded by girls who didn't like me and guy friends who didn't want to stick up for me and risk pissing off their girlfriends.  WOO!  Summer flies by, I return to college.  

Sophomore year starts.  HOW QUICKLY you learn that college does NOT equal maturity.  There were immense amounts of shade thrown my way sophomore year by girls that I had not even met but just knew I had befriended their boyfriends or something.  Yoooo, once again, there I was.

So here it comes: all the way through my sophomore year of college, I would have this crying/pissing & moaning talk with my mom.  Crying quickly turned into pissing and moaning when my mom told me I wasn't allowed to cry about it anymore so I just...adjusted to pissing and moaning.  I would ask my mom why and what I could do to fix it because she always had all the right answers and obviously, I WAS IN DESPERATE NEED OF THEM!  Anyway, I could not figure out what I was doing that was so wrong.  I was not hitting on anyone's boyfriend, I most likely had not even met the girlfriend, yet there I was again--losing my guy friends left and right, like something bad had hit the water. because I just could not seem to make the right girl friends.  Sophomore year wasn't THAT bad, but junior year definitely started to show its true colors and college just kept getting harder.  But don't worry, nothing ever came close to the whole fiasco with syrup and crackers all over my car in the middle of July in Oklahoma.

Junior year of college was rough, like I explained before, but I eventually dug down deep and found my backbone of telling the girl to get the hell over herself (note: this usually did not end up with me maintaining or gaining friendships from the situation) or telling the guy to...well, grow a pair.  It was nice not to be walked on anymore.  Rewind to that Hunter kid I mentioned earlier, the only person other than his girlfriend Emma that I will name drop in this.  Hunter finally started dating Emma, and guess what?  EMMA LIKED ME.  Emma still likes me and the best part is that she is perfectly comfortable not only being my friend, but she is perfectly comfortable with the friendship that I have with Hunter (unlike...well, most of the previous ones that had ever had any interest in Hunter) and both of them still remain two of my favorite humans up to this day.  But then, I went abroad and for the rest of my friend pool, things got weird.  I mean, Workaholics meets Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt kind of weird.

You know what happened when I went abroad?  My "best friends" from high school started coming out of the woodwork with how they "felt" about me in high school.  Feelings and stuff.  Things I don't deal with well.  You know, it was sort of like one of those situations where they say that people develop a nervous laugh and laugh in situations that they aren't supposed to laugh in.  Like funerals.  Except this was me laughing at anyone who tried to tell me they ever looked at me as more than a friend, because goodbye.

For Christ's Sake, I was in ECUADOR!  What did they want me to say?  HEY, SAME, SEE YOU IN FIVE MONTHS MAYBE YOU CAN WAIT ON ME!!!  That didn't happen, not at all.  Really, I still couldn't take anyone seriously because I was suffering from culture shock and for the most part, I had been friends with anyone who told me that for 5+ years so why didn't they take advantage of saying something back in high school..!?  Safe to say, I didn't wait and still did the awkward "I laugh at funerals and I don't know why" kind of thing.

Senior year starts and finally, things stop getting weird.  I have my niche and my group of friends and, yeah.  Basically the whole "I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR YOUR PETTY BS" attitude comes along.  Feelin' myself like Beyonce or something.  First semester is great, busy per usual, but great.  I got to catch up with my old friends, meet new ones, get back into the swing of things after being abroad.

But then second semester hits.  I have this...well, friend.  One of those best friends from high school, ya know?  He's super great, super sarcastic, reads me like a book, and turned into one of the only people in a handful of friends that I enjoyed seeing back in Owasso, aside from my mama and grandma.  Turns out, his girlfriend does not like me either.  I have never met her.  I had ONE picture posted with this friend from my freshman year of college (kid was still a junior in high school back then) winter break.  We have seen each other maybe three times in the last two years.  You know, nothing to worry about, right?  I go visit him at his university, we split a pitcher of beer and grab Mexican food together to catch up.  I mean, I am bro-ing the hell out.  Doing what I do best, ja feel?  When the next day, I wake up to a text from the girlfriend.  I'll spare you all of the details because, well, we're in college and that stuff shouldn't happen now.  But it ended with something like "plz stay away from him. Thanks girlie"

Needless to say, lost another friend that I have had for the last 5 years and it sucks, but hey, I guess if that's what it comes down to?  Right?

So I'm going to lay it out for you because as best as I can see it, these are the reasons I can contribute towards your girlfriend probably hating me, already considering her decision to hate me, or actively expressing her hates towards me.

1. Yo, I am NOT a girl's girl.  That's why I joined a sorority--to try and learn how to be, but I'm still just stuck here bro-ing out.  I'm a total bro that enjoys a decent beer and can binge watch the likes of college football, house of cards, and enjoys getting competitive in something as stupid as beer pong.  

2. I draw a lot of attention to myself.  I don't do it on purpose, either.  I am just a very loud, very outgoing person with a large personality.  I'm willing to introduce myself in any situation, even if its not ideal, as long as it means making a new friend; I try to meet someone new at least twice a week.

3. She's probably insecure.  Honestly.  And to each their own, everyone has their reasons. But let me tell you something...if I'm what's intimidating her, I can't imagine what she feels like when you watch something like the VMA's together where Selena Gomez is performing in some sort of tight, cut out leather outfit!

4. I am eternally stuck in the friend/bro zone.  Let's be clear that this is not me complaining, but rather me furthering my argument for the girls who are intimidated by someone who is 22 and lacks legitimate relationship experience.

5. If I am in a situation where the room has split between the guys and the girls, I am probably standing on the guys side of the room.  It happens to me a lot.  Once again, not on purpose, but it tends to happen.

6. I am independent.  I don't NEED anyone to be my significant other in order for me to be happy, I'm just as happy by myself.

7. I know how to think for myself without the pressures of others having a heavy weight on my opinions.

8. Guys call me Clegg instead of Rachele.  I guess Clegg is synonymous for babe now or maybe boys now flirt by calling girls by their last names?  JOKES, total friend zone move, goodbye.

9. Finally, the "I can't believe you just said that in front of her!!!!" card when a boy says something gross, disgusting, dirty, etc in front of me; that card is usually met with "it's just Clegg, she's practically one of us anyway!!!". 

So, boys.  And girls.  Whoever is reading still, honestly.  I'm gonna bless the game with some advice.  At the end of the day, do you really only want it to be you and your significant other against the world?  The answer is a big, fat no.  Everyone loves having friends, so stop letting who you're dating limit who you can and cannot talk to just because of previous insecurities.  

On that note, this is pretty much a huge screw you to any of the girls who have ever made me feel uncomfortable or worthless in my own shoes in the past, but a huge thank you to those same ones for further proving my mama's biggest lesson to me in life: misery loves company, so don't stoop to their level.

And ending on this note, it is COMPLETELY OKAY to not be a girl's girl.  Because sometimes all you want is a box combo from Canes, washed down with a pitcher of Blue Moon, topped off with watching a Thunder game to end a good night.  

I've been waiting to get that whole "insecure girls suck" thing off of my chest since I was 14.  Peace and blessings, y'all.

Uncertainty is good.

I don't really have a specific topic for this post, so I'm just gonna touch on a few things that have been weighing on my heart lately.  I'm not a sappy person and this is by no means a sappy post, but I like to share the lessons that I have learned so that maybe someone else will recognize them in their personal lives whenever the time is right.  Also, I do not consider myself to be a writer, a blogger, or the "hipster liberal" who does this for attention.  It's really a personal thing and anyone who knows me knows that I love to talk, meet people, and share my experiences in any way that I possibly can.  So, stay with me here.

1. TAKE ADVANTAGE.

This is probably the biggest thing I can think of to share.  When people ask me about going abroad, living in a new culture, or really, just going out to experience something completely new AND on your own, I always tell them to be vulnerable.  Keep in mind, there is a difference between vulnerable and naive, but there is nothing wrong with talking to strangers and asking questions.  My best stories, or at least what I would consider my best stories, stem from just talking to people.  I can officially say that I have met an ambassador from talking to the random bald man at a DC bar, I have an infinite number of couches that I could crash on in a large number of countries and cities thanks to saying hello to whoever sits by me on the plane, and I have friends that genuinely care after just three nights of hanging out in whatever hostel that we met in.  It's so challenging for me to actually go out into the world WITH someone at this point because I do so much better on my own.  So yes, the old men flock to me in coffee shops, the travelers flock to me in hostels, and the businessmen flock to me in bars, buses, and airports alike.  But they come in all shapes and sizes--don't judge a book by its cover.  Not everyone who sits down next to you has a malicious intent.  

2. BE INDEPENDENT.

STOP asking your friends to go to the bathroom with you.  STOP avoiding going to events that you may have to go to alone.  The truth is, you are much more approachable when you are alone.  Do you know how intimidating it is for someone who is alone to approach you and five of your friends--ESPECIALLY when you're abroad.  I went to a wedding by myself this past weekend and before I got there, I honestly was panicking.  I haven't been to a wedding since I was a child.  How do you act?  What do you wear?  Don't you have to have a date...?  The truth is, all of that is trivial.  Like my (practically) second family assured me long before hand--I was fine.  

3. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, STOP WORRYING ABOUT HOW SINGLE YOU ARE.

Honestly.  I have six weddings to go to in the next year or so.  Don't get me wrong, I am over the moon for each and every couple getting married.  But I am also in no rush to find my "soulmate" or the poor soul who is going to be stuck with me for the rest of their life.  I'm young, but I also have come to recognize how selfish you have to be before you can dedicate that sort of time to someone else.  In other words, I want to travel!  I want to do other relevant things for myself before I can make someone else happy.  Once again, don't get me wrong, if there's someone along the way who is willing to accompany me, then great.  If not...well, I have a pretty big bucket list to accomplish before I'm "settled".  If we're being honest, the word "settle" in any way, shape, or form makes me cringe.

 4. Get the hell out of your comfort zone.

Life is not meant to be easy.  Or comfortable.  It is meant to be a little embarrassing, certainty is not meant to exist, and honestly...yes is always the answer.  Try new foods, learn a new language, ask questions, and stumble your way through.  Also, don't wait on that cute boy to buy you a drink or to ask you your name.  Buy him a drink, introduce yourself, and see what happens.  Worse comes to worse, you make a new friend who doesn't turn out to be your soulmate.  

5. FIND SOMEONE WHO JUST GETS IT.

I think this has been something huge for me this year too.  Not everyone will understand your feelings and sometimes, your passions just don't translate into the same passions as the ones that whoever you're talking to may possess.  I could go on for days about foreign policy, anything concerning national/international security, the military, privatizing the military, loopholes in the political process, etc.  And most of my friends hate it.  But I have the handful of friends that JUST GET ME.  I mean really get me.  They know what makes me tick and they may think I'm crazy, but at the end of the day, it is so healthy to find people who you can connect with on that level because eventually, it's those people who believe in you the most; when you need reassurance, you aren't going to be fed a bunch of "you will be fine, blah blah" BS.  They're going to feed you the truth, gracefully or not, but at least they know what they're talking about.

I was having a conversation the other day with one of my best friends.  It's not someone that anyone ever would pin as my best friend, my better half, or no one really ever understands how we get along in the first place.  Nonetheless, when I'm upset, anxious, uncertain about school, my future, he knows just what to say.  And I love that.  Although this was probably never something to be shared, I feel like it's something I have to share because really, it just reassured me that I have surrounded myself with people who appreciate me and that, in itself, is healthy.

"I have spent my life wandering down a path of uncertainty.  Something that one of my very dearest friends, Rachele, can fully comprehend.  We both have had our futures in sight and just out of reach, not knowing where our respective paths would lead us in the end.  She listens as much as she speaks, and loves as much as anyone I have ever met--while at the same time she knows how to be...blunt.  She offers advice and counsel to all who need it and even some who don't, but nothing she does is out of discontent."  

One of my best friends wrote that recently about me after I babbled on about all of my woes for a day.  As I prepare for graduation and suddenly uprooting myself from a place where I am surrounded by 30,000 of my closest friends, I catch myself counting my blessings little by little.  So, take advantage, be independent, get the hell out of your comfort zone, find someone who gets it, and for the love of God, stop worrying about how single you are.

Doubt is an uncomfortable position, but certainty is a ridiculous one.

-Voltaire

Brazil: Spring Break Edition?

First off, how awesome is it that I attend a university as great as the University of Oklahoma that values education abroad as much as I love going abroad?  It's seriously pretty great.  One of our assignments for this trip was to keep a journal.  My physical journal suffered some water damage (you'll hear all about it later on in the blog so bear with me...) so I'm going to try to recap my week, day by day, because we did so much.  I will attempt to include pictures as I go, but I'm using airplane wifi so it may not function properly.  On that note, for those of you who want to see more pictures, just check Facebook or follow me on Instagram (@doscleggis) to check them out.

Per typical Clegg-style, I had a blast and I was able to meet a lot of people.  Brazil certainly was not Colombia or Ecuador, Portuguese is not as close to Spanish as they say, and even the men have butt implants.  Yes, you heard me right.  Butt implants.  But let's move along to the actual trip.  

I was lucky enough to be given the chance to take a course called Political Ecology with Dr. Theriault over spring break this year.  I know, you're all thinking why in the world did you choose to take MORE SCHOOL over SPRING BREAK!?  Well, how many times in your life are you given the chance to go to Brazil for something like this?  The good news is that my visa for Brazil is legitimate for the next ten years.  I also was able to travel with my best friend, Emily Kitchens, to complete the course so it was inevitable that I signed up for this.  

We left OKC Saturday evening and landed in Rio de Janeiro on Sunday morning, around 10 AM.  I got to sit by Brooke and Britney, so that was nice.  However, there was a screeching toddler on our flight that screeched until about 3 AM.  I'm not exaggerating.  I should also mention that the same family/toddler is on my return flight and she is still screeching.  We will see how it goes, I suppose.

Saturday

So we landed Saturday and it was great.  Upon landing, we went through customs (probably the most relaxed customs experience I have ever had) and met up with our coordinators.  It was incredible but it also started to pour rain on our way in--with that being said, the drainage systems in Rio de Janeiro are not very good, which causes a number of issues for both the drivers and for anyone walking in the streets.  We arrived in Leblon (the Hamptons of Rio) at our hostel and had a quick tour of the area.  Our coordinator, Caren, is incredible and introduced us to Acaí bowls (of which I consumed 2-3 a day afterwards...) then walked us to Ipanema which was only five blocks from our hostel.  Later, we met up with Erika, the family-in-residence in Rio.  We bussed over to the Botanical Gardens (which are incredible) and saw one of the only Brasilia trees left in the country.  We followed that with dinner at Fogo de Chao--Brazilian style beef, all you can eat.  Aka, I was in heaven.  It began to rain that night as well and the streets were so flooded that our van was one of the only vehicles that could make it through without stalling out.  You could see floating trash down the streets, water coming out of the manholes (aka, raw sewage), and the sanitation issue in Rio immediately became evident.  We also had passed favelas earlier in the day that were surrounded by massive plastic barriers; the government claimed they were put in place to block the noise from the traffic for the residents, when in reality, they were built to try and hide the favelas from public view and protect traffic on the highways from what could literally be considered a "highway robbery" with some favela residents robbing people in traffic.  Nonetheless, we waded home and showered immediately so that we could head to bed to look forward to Monday.

Sunday

Sunday was incredible.  I'm not usually one to talk about going abroad and serving for only ONE day to a community, but it was great.  We headed to Favela Organica to meet Regina.  She is one incredible lady making a massive difference in Babilonia, her favela.  She works to transplant different crops that are already in the community to other gardens, after the gardens have been cleaned out of trash and then revamped.  By doing this, she hopes to create self-sustainability among the favela.  She was actually offered the opportunity to carry the Olympic torch but said no because she feels that the Olympic Committee is not paying enough attention to the damage that they have caused in Brazil.  After sweating (I mean that I have never sweated like that in my life) a TON and working in the gardens to clear out trash, de-weed the area, and plant new crops, Regina cooked lunch for us, we had all-natural popsicles, and then went to the Hippie Fair; afterwards, Kitch and I hit Ipanema for the last two hours of sunlight.  There had been political protests ALL morning on Sunday against the government, with what the news outlets reported as having millions of people present and marching along the beach.  Many of these protests were concerning the amount of corruption in the current government of Brazil and were asking for impeachment of the sitting President of Brazil. 

Monday

Monday was another day full of craziness.  I think it was a mix of eye-opening and wild.  We visited UÇA, a local organization that is working to clean up and re-introduce species to Guanabara Bay.  Guanabara is one of the dirtiest things in Brazil--it is also the site of a number of the Olympic competitions scheduled for the summer Olympics.  It is incredibly polluted, but this organization has cleaned up a major portion of it and re-introduced mangroves to the area.  We loaded up into a boat and toured some of the bay, a portion of the mangroves, and so forth.  It's pretty incredible that an organization like this one has had such an impact--although it remains very small and there is still work to be done, I would hope that some of the good that is being done will be shared soon rather than solely the negative news of Guanabara.  We headed back to the hostel after that, where Kitch and I headed back out to the beach for a while and then prepared for "Pedra do Sal", a Samba street fair in Rio.  I don't think any of us were prepared for what was ahead of us.  ANY kind of person you would expect to see at something like this, was there.  The sketchy ones, the tourists, the backpackers, and then there was us.  Like a wolfpack of gringas.  I slowly realized that the attitude towards gringas was even stronger for men in Brazil than it was when I was in Ecuador or Colombia.  They are touchy, they make situations awkward and uncomfortable, and you have to completely remove yourself from the area in order to eliminate the discomfort.  Later in the night, which I think was one of the highlights of the trip, we met a huge group of guys from Argentina who were a BLAST.  I have to admit that I was partial because I could finally speak to someone in a language that both groups of people could understand.  What began as a night of complete and total discomfort turned into one of my favorite stories of the trip.  So shout out to all my new friends from Argentina, y'all are great!

Tuesday

Tuesday was an early day and we headed out to Ilha Grande.  There are no cars allowed on the island, so we had to take a ferry from Angra to see it.  We checked in once we arrived, headed to lunch/dinner, wandered around a little bit, and then I had an Acaí bowl for dinner--post nap.  When I got back to the hostel, I was buying water and met another guy from Argentina.  I went upstairs to shower then went back downstairs to chat for a little bit.  We talked about my major for college and I told him about my interest in the security issues that much of Latin America continues to face--corruption, drug trafficking, scandal.  You name it.  Nico pretty much entertained me for two hours at the hostel along with his friend, Jefferson, who was the waiter/bartender that rain the little restaurant, since we were on a deserted island where I knew no one and all of my friends were passed out from exhaustion of the day.  I learned a little bit more about the island, since he lives there, and then went to bed.  

Wednesday

Talk about a busy day.  We woke up early and began our hike to one of the cleanest, prettiest, and most deserted beaches that I have ever experienced.  It was tough, I feel like I sweated out about 800 lbs and I'm still sore.  Ilha Grande began as a penal colony, similar to that of Alcatraz.  Our guide, Carlos, spoke to the fact that the island was used for criminals at first--killers, rapists, etc, then was later used for those who were political activists opposing the government.  Whenever the activists were sent to the island, they taught the criminals how to organize, and now, Rio has an issue with gangs and drug trafficking.  Carlos correlates that issue with the fact that the penal colony was later turned into a tourist attraction and those who were held on Ilha Grande returned to Rio.  We had sun for about ten minutes while we were on the beach, followed by a massive thunderstorm.  Have you ever been stranded on a deserted beach (literally, no inhabitants...) during a thunderstorm?  It's hard.  Nonetheless, it was warmer in the water than on land during the storm so once the rain lightened up, we were able to snorkel and see a ton of fish, a sea turtle, and so forth.  We began our hike back to the boat, road the boat in rain, and then had another massive downpour hit us when we arrived at our original beach.  I don't think I have ever been so happy to see a hot shower in my life.  We went to dinner as a group, where the entire staff at the restaurant was drunk, had an interesting experience there, and then I went back to the hostel.  Everyone went to bed, but I stayed up to chat with Nico some more.  I decided that I wanted to see more of the local-lifestyle, so I went out and we hungout with a ton of locals in the streets (it was a Wednesday, on a deserted island, so this was normal...) for a bit.  I learned more about Argentina, the island, and really just enjoyed good company.  Once again, I have another reason to visit Argentina!

Thursday

Thursday we left to return to Rio.  I met a couple of Germans and one French guy who were all traveling together on our boat ride back to the mainland in Angra.  I love traveling because I love people.  The highlights of my trips are the people I meet along the way.  They all have different opinions about Americans, the United States, and so forth.  We arrived in Angra, had Acaí again, and loaded the bus for home.  Upon arrival back at the hostel, we prepared to go visit another NGO in Rocinha--the largest favela in all of South America.  Tio Lino's is an NGO that gives children a place to go before or after school so that they can stay out of trouble; kids in Rocinha only attend school for four hours a day, either in the afternoon or in the morning.  So they have a lot of extra time on their hands to get into trouble while their parents are at work.  Can you imagine now, how so many children get drawn into gangs and drug trafficking and so forth at such a young age in communities such as this?  Tio Lino's was a blast though; I took my Polaroid with me and snapped  a few with the kids, played duck, duck, goose, and drew pictures for a bit.  We returned to Leblon, headed out to dinner, and then out to celebrate St. Patty's Day!  It's safe to say that Brazil is a blast and there are so many people from other countries touring the place that it's a melting pot for culture.  I also met a man with a t-shirt that said "I drink for diabetes".  I think it's one of those situations that you don't really understand, but it's a shirt in English and it makes no sense.  It was still funny, nonetheless.

Friday

I lied.  Friday was fun too.  We visited another favela.  Vila Autodromo was an incredible community that was torn down because it was considered an "eyesore" for the Olympics.  In other words, the Olympic stadiums are in the backyard of this favela so the government bulldozed the community.  There were three remaining homes when we arrived on Friday and two of the three properties were scheduled for demolition.  We spoke with a woman who's home had been bulldozed while she was still living there--she had her nose broken by the police but she was helping another man, Francisco, move out.  While she was speaking, Francisco began hugging her and speaking to the empowerment of the community that was once Vila Autodromo.  I don't think I have ever cried in a situation like that before, but I definitely was touched.  Along the way, I met a little boy named Tomas who hung around me all day.  His family was the other family that was relocating to a new area, as their house was scheduled to be demolished.  At six years of age and with Rogeiro translating for me, Tomas tried to explain (keep in mind, he is six years old experiencing this...) the impact of the Olympics, how the police in the area were, and even spoke to the horribleness of those who were demolishing his home.  Despite all of that, he was as happy as ever--he just wanted a playmate, to wear my sunglasses, and to take more polaroids.  He ate brunch with us, hugged me a billion times, and then left to go with his family to their new place.  I only cried more.  But it was eye-opening to see the impact of the Olympics on the local communities.  Later, we headed to Sugar Loaf which was beautiful, then to visit my friend and the Consul General of the US in Rio, Jimmy Story.  Jimmy was as incredible as ever and shared his experiences with my classmates and I about his career with the Department of State.  Later, Caren and Erika took us to dinner for a typical Brazilian meal, then typical Brazilian dessert.  

SATURDAY

Our final day and what marked our one full week in Rio!  Naturally, we went to the Christ statue, enjoyed the steps at Selaron, and visited the Museum of Amanha.  Today has been a sort of blur for me personally and it is almost one in the morning on my flight back into Houston.  At least, 1 AM on Rio time.  The screaming child has stopped for the time being, but I think that's because a passenger said something to the child's mom.  I guess that's good news.  Today was a blast, but I'm definitely sad leaving Rio.  I can't help but be attached to little Tomas, who I think had the largest impact on me and my time in Brazil.  

Nonetheless, I learned a lot from this trip.  I readjusted to a culture where I did NOT speak the language, I ate a ton of fruit, I made new friends, met some incredible people, realized the horrors of a city that is split politically and does not have access to proper sanitation, and spent time in favelas where the sense of community includes each and every member of the favela.  Ecologically, Brazil is covered in forests, oceans, bays, and even deserted islands, but politically, it is a mess that will take a number of years to fix.  Although the Olympics are incredible and will bring money to the city of Rio and the country of Brazil, I ask you all to think about those who have been negatively affected by the changes happening in the country due to the decisions of the Olympic Committee and city officials.  I'm happy to have marked another country off of my Latin America list but I'm even more thankful for the experiences I now have under my belt.  Tourism is interesting, but service learning is the best thing I have experienced.  So I leave you all with a solid quote to sum up my trip and consider a trip to Brazil.  For now, onto Washington, D.C.!

Travel makes one modest.  You see what a tiny place you occupy in the world.

-Gustave Flaubert

Why do old men tend to gravitate towards me in coffee houses?

Last week, I told you guys something happened to me.  I had an encounter in Starbucks, just with a random guy in line asking me about what I was doing after graduation, and I panicked.  A lot.  Like....a TON.

I don't know what it is about me and coffee shops and random men, I really don't. But for some reason, they all gravitate to me for conversation.  Now, as a complete and total advocate for making the most out of any daily situation and for getting to know people, I get it.  It's basically karma for me constantly offering an ear to whoever needs it.  We all need someone, don't act like you guys don't know how that one goes.  You know, where someone in a fast food restaurant asks how your day is going and suddenly you find yourself telling the guy taking your order that you're fine, but would be SO MUCH BETTER IF YOU HAD NOT FAILED YOUR CHEM TEST AND YOUR CAR BATTERY HADN'T DIED AND IF YOUR ROOMMATE WOULD JUST CLEAN THE GODFORSAKEN BATHROOM ONCE IN A BLUE MOON!!!  We are all guilty of it, letting loose and not realizing it.

Today, I had one of those experiences.  Sitting at Starbucks, doing my homework.  I sat down at the six person table on Campus Corner with some random girl because there were no seats left when I first got my drink; as the day passed (I spent a few hours there...) more seats began to open up and I suddenly found myself sitting in the middle seat of this six person study table.  Alone.  Yeah, I was that asshole and I know that each of you who frequents the Starbucks on Campus Corner can agree--we all hate that person that takes up all the space at the six person table.  I was totally in a zone though!  I had my headphones in, I wasn't really paying attention to the time, and I was trying to complete a few semi-dense readings that needed to be done before tomorrow.  

I glanced up to see a man walking in the doors.  I recognized him from seeing him at Starbucks last week.  Older.  Bald.  Wearing one of those super round-brimmed cowboy hats with the feathers in it and a pair of old starched wranglers.  He wasn't exactly a forgettable dude.  Actually, a lot of you who live in Norman and frequent Starbucks have probably seen him around too.  Anyway, he orders his drink and then asks if he can join me at my table.  Naturally, I say yes, fully well expecting him to sit in one of the three empty seats across the table from me, but he doesn't.  Nope.  He sits down right next to me and starts chatting away.

I took out my headphones and politely responded to his question of what I was studying in school.  Things started pretty normal.  

Then I asked if he had attended the University previously and things started to get a little...bizarre.  He said he had been offered a scholarship, a loooooong time ago to run track and didn't take it.  The conversation took a turn towards him discussing his faith.  Now, for any of you who are "not religious" or grew up in Oklahoma as one of the very few that does not consider themselves religious, you know exactly how uncomfortable this conversation can become.  It usually starts with people telling their stories of how they were saved, where in life they discovered their Lord and Savior, and why they made the decision to get baptized or to give their life to God then quickly leads into them inviting you to their house for bible study or inviting you to attend their church or whatever the situation may be.  Plain and simple, it is uncomfortable.  Now, although I do not consider myself religious, I do believe in God and I do pray--I just do not actively attend a church and I honestly do not prioritize it over anything else like many do.  I guess this is where I say, it isn't that I'm not religious, it's that I'm not super spiritual.  I think that's how that goes....

Anyway.  He starts telling me this story of a track meet he was at where he can remember the first time he ever prayed for strength and speed to finish his race and when he was almost to the finish line, he stopped.  Because he realized how fast he had been running and knew that it was not a "natural" thing--attributing it, naturally, to his prayer before the race.

Okay, let me interrupt my own story once again.  I cannot tell you how nervous I was that this man was going to either start preaching to me or start condemning me for being in a sorority like the guy on the South Oval does.  

So I respond, that's pretty great and incredible and that I wish he could have experienced the same University that I have been given the opportunity to experience over the last 3.5 years because I find my CIS professors so incredible and that I think they have done more for me than I ever thought an educator could do.  He says that's pretty cool and he's so glad that someone like me has been given the opportunity to experience it.  Then, he starts telling other stories, but in particular, he tells two more.  One is his experience with God and the other is his experience with the Devil.  The latter, he explains, he has never admitted to anyone before until he met me.  Keep in mind, thirty minutes has passed since he sat down next to me.  At this point, I'm thinking that these stories are so bizarre and this old man is CRAZY.  He has also admitted to me, in this time period, that he had been homeless at one point and never accepted pity or begged on the streets, but at one point, started hitting the bottle pretty hard because it was a way out of his real world situation.

But in particular, was this story he told about how he had encountered the devil during his time as a homeless man.  It was the last story he told aside from another, where he talked about a bluejay he saved and now cares for in his home.  He is insistent on how he has never told anyone this story before and he does not have any idea why he was drawn to tell me, but tells me that I "just have a different aura" about me than anyone he has ever spoken to before.  He continues and says, "You are a very, very special person.  I cannot describe how I was just drawn to sit down and talk to you, because I felt like it was necessary.  You are someone who radiates positivity in a world of hate and negativeness.  YOU ARE THE BIG DOG."  I said thank you and introduced myself as Rachele.  He said it was a pleasure, then started to tear up.  Naturally, once again, I'm panicking.  Because feelings and tears, I just don't do well.  He said, I have told the other stories many times to people who probably think I am just a crazy old man (ME, YES, ALARMS ARE GOING OFF) and I have never been treated as nicely as you have treated me today--like I said, your aura is just positive.  He then told me to have a nice day and left.

Not 3 minutes later, the door to Starbucks opens again and there he is.  He comes back over to the table that I'm now, sitting alone at once again, and hugs me.  Okay, panic again.  This strangely polite but emotional old man has his arm around my shoulders and I have already seen him tear up a little...how do I handle this...is this weird or.......

So he says, "Rachele, I have never come to Starbucks three times in one day but today I did.  I didn't know why I was coming here my third time around and I fully believe that everything that happens, happens for a reason.  You were brought to me as a saving grace that I have never had before.  I was feeling down in the dumps the last couple of weeks and have been trying to find my way and my reason for living anymore.  I realized when I finished my conversation with you, you had cured all of those feelings.  I do not feel upset, weary, depressed, anything.  I'm not upset anymore and I no longer have an upset bone in my body.  You are incredible and you are definitely something special.  You're the big dog, whether you believe it or not."  I quickly caught myself becoming emotional because I have NEVER had someone say something so kind when they simply do not have to and when they do not have any idea of who I am minus a 45 minute conversation in a coffee shop.  Before leaving, he told me again that he appreciated me, then pointed at the sky and said "I know we will meet again because encounters like this are not chance, they are planned." He pointed at the sky, winked at me, and left.

He didn't return and I caught myself crying into a caramel macchiato.  I'm not typically emotional, but I cannot tell you how great I felt after leaving Starbucks today.  I cried to myself all the way to my car because I have never been paid a compliment that was so great. 

I'm not telling you all this story to show off or brag or whatever negative concept could be taken from it.  As I have said before, my blog is an outlet for myself to relax and tell my stories.  I guess my bottom line is this.  Sometimes, people are going to seem a little...off.  I mean, if this story doesn't epitomize an old man who seems to have "gone off his rocker", I don't know what does.  But you don't know how much of a difference you make when you just lend an ear to someone who really, really really really, just wants a listener.  I didn't even get a name from the guy, but as he said before, I'm sure we will meet again at some point down the road.

Today, I counted my blessings twice and recognized how much my faith in people had been diminishing but was quickly restored after a 45 minute break from studying.

One of my biggest mentors on campus sent me a quote today, in Spanish.  I'm going to share it because it struck home for me.  In the meantime, listen to someone who needs it.  Your impact will probably be larger than you expect.

El cuento que nos se cuenta, no cuenta.

The story that you do not tell, does not count. 

Proper Preparations for the Real World

Per usual, I'm gonna drop some knowledge here.  Right here.  In this first little opening statement of an incredibly pointless blog post.  

A proper way to prepare you for the real world or what is to come "AFTER COLLEGE" does not exist.

There.  I said it.  Sorry upcoming college grads, but I have searched the world over and there is no answer.  Now, I'm not just randomly bringing this to your attention.  As I was originally saying, this blog post is not for the entertainment of the reader, for once.  It is my way of de-stressing and winding down but it's also my way of letting you guys in on my life piece by piece. 

Okay so I'll let you guys in on what happened and my epiphany and really just how weird its been around here lately.  I was sick all last week, with a migraine that lasted for a full four days (not exaggerating, it was miserable), the occasional vomiting spell, fever, stomach pains, a short hospital visit, Avery basically babysitting me like a sick child for a few days, and I'm suddenly better!  Getting there, at least.  Needless to say, I missed my first day of class, so I had that on Monday.

Monday is where things get weird.  I woke up Monday and I was actually ready to start my week.  I got to work at Penn at 8 AM on Monday like

Straight up, feeling like Obama when he was told that Boehner was stepping down.  

Anyway.  Work went really well, practically like Christmas because we were getting all of our new spring items in.  I went to class afterwards, that went really well and I realized how much I may actually enjoy my capstone this semester.  I went to a meeting afterwards, which went very well.  I had a good day.  But I also went to Starbucks.

I had a conversation in Starbucks that would alter my entire day and probably the rest of my semester.  I'm gonna tell you how it went and I bet that 80% of you who are graduating in May will be able to...well, relate.  Or validate my feelings.

A nice, older man struck up conversation about school with me while I was waiting in line.  He asked me what I was studying, when I was graduating, how classes were going.  But then he dropped the bomb.  

So, what are your plans after graduation?????

I don't know what I looked like after he asked me that but the Good Lord knows it wasn't pretty.  I told him I had plans to move to Washington, D.C. but that nothing was set in stone yet.  He wished me luck and took off for the day.

I'll never see that guy again, obviously.  But I realized that's what pushed me off my rocker for the day.

So when I got home, I had a little bit of time to eat and wind down, with some spare time to go finish a craft at Avery's and come home for the night.  When I got home, I started trying to get my life in order--all typical for an end-of-the-day wrap up before bed.  Something pushed me back into that Starbucks store with that same guy asking me what my plans were after graduation and my brain went to mush.  WHAT ARE YOUR PLANS AFTER GRADUATION?????

For lack of a better, more "PC" term...I lost my shit.  

But I'm going to tell you where I quickly stopped crying and found my solace.  It was after 1 in the morning when I decided I just wanted company.  Naturally, right?  So I call the only person I think could possibly be awake to make me feel better and that I trust enough to see me teary eyed and snot nosed.  GRANT POSEY.  Woo, all of you from home know how great Grant is, but none of you know how great it is to have Grant in Norman now.  Naturally, he doesn't answer.  So I'm still crying and trying to figure out why I don't know how to answer the simplest question "WHAT ARE YOU DOING AFTER GRADUATION?????" and why it's bugging me so much when my phone starts ringing.  GRANT WAS AWAKE.  I got in my car and immediately drove over.  After a few hours of chatting and just shooting the breeze, I left much happier and a little calmer.  

The best piece of advice Grant gave me is that it is perfectly all right to not know the answer to every question you're asked.  I recognized that all of my life, I have had an answer to anything thrown at me.  Is it always the RIGHT one?  Well...my track record is pretty good, but the answer is no, it's not.  But there's always been SOME kind of answer and that's what matters--the immediate gratification of feeling like you have your shit together.  

Basically, for the first time in my life, I'm in a place where I don't know what's next.  Life is quite literally coming at me faster and faster every single day and I don't know what happens after May.  But everything about that is okay because sooner or later, answers will come and life will work itself out like it's supposed to.  Tonight, I'm counting Aves and Grant Posey twice when I count my blessings tonight.  Friends like them are a dime a dozen.

In the mean time though, for those of you that keep asking us 2016 grads what we're doing after college...

Because it's like pushing a big, red button that screams anxiety, tears, and a lot of other emotions that just don't make sense.  You may think we have it all together, but I know that I for one, do not.  

The clock will continue to tick and the wheels will continue to turn.  Until then, be thankful for the answers that you DO have.

There is nothing so uncertain as a sure thing.

-Scotty Bowman