On a more serious note

I wanted my next blog post to be on how I spent a splendid weekend in Memphis, Tennessee with my dear friend from UC Davis (you will get your blog post, Kate, promise) a while back but I'm going to blog about something else.

This past weekend I experienced a home invasion. Someone shattered my sliding glass door late one night while I was home, in my bed. I'll save the details, but the cops came and found me locked inside the bathroom with my baseball bat rand on the phone with the 911 dispatcher.

I have never been so scared in my entire life for my life.

I am currently writing from a coworkers apartment, whom has so graciously offered her place so that I can stay until I move into a new apartment at the end of the week. While she has been more than accommodating and I am so grateful to everyone who has offered me support, a place to stay, and their sympathies, I still can't find myself able to sleep until the later hours of the morning, when the sun is about to rise. Not out of fear but I've just been rattled to my very core and the dark and the night and being alone with just my thoughts are the worst times for me.

While it is not something I automatically offer to anyone and everyone, most people who need to know, do know about the incident. And I didn't want to make it public but some comments have been made and over heard that have upset me a great deal.

Nothing was stolen, they/she/he ran off once I started screaming and turning lights on. I was not physically harmed other than a bruise on my hip from slipping on the bathroom tile trying to get into the only locked area in that part of the apartment. I am very lucky, and I am very aware that it could have been a lot worse. I feel violated and so incredibly helpless. Replaying the incident over and over in my head, I think of all the things I could have done differently but I was in survivor mode and what happened, happened, and it worked out. The next morning was worse. I thought I could handle it. I couldn't. I can't. They may not have stolen any property but they did steal my peace of mind. I have to move. 

And herein lies my major issue with people who meddle and offer their two cents when it is not warranted. Whether you agree with this or not, that is not your decision to make. Yes, moving is a hassle. Yes, it was almost 100% certain that it was an isolated incident and even more likely it won't happen again at that exact place. Yes, it is expensive to find a new place to live and time consuming and yes, it would be easier to stay. And yes, in hindsight it was a bad decision to move to a first floor apartment, live alone, not have a back porch light, etc. etc.

But shame on all of you who have had these thoughts cross your mind. That is blaming the victim in every shape, way and form. No one prepares for things like this. And if they say they do, the plan is't fool proof. No one can possibly comprehend what I am feeling or coping with and I don't need anyone to. I am not asking for pity. 

Do not think that I am stronger than that one bad thing or that I am a lesser victim since nothing was taken nor was I harmed. Do not think that this would have never happened had I just had a roommate. Do not tell me that by moving, I let the intruder win, that I forfeit the problem and am running away. And do not tell me it is not that big of a deal.

It is a big fuqing deal. And damn straight I am running away. I'm running away to hopefully being able to feel comfortable living alone again. I am running away from bad memories and towards forgetting and completely forgoing the forgiving part. I did not ask for this. But I have to do whatever it takes to make it ok for Marissa, and not give a damn about what anyone thinks Marissa should do.

Until you have been brought to your knees, you cannot even fathom how you would react in a traumatic situation. That was my lowest moment. My home was invaded. My safe place had a cement block thrown through the glass door. My sanctuary and peace of mind, literally, shattered to pieces that night.

I am done defending myself and any and all of my actions and decisions.

I came back to the apartment to grab some more things today and found that the door was replaced but the cement block was still there. Just sitting on my back porch. Sitting there like it was laughing at me. I cried for the first time since the incident. The cops found me with dry eyes, and I never once shed a tear talking about it. But here I cried and cried and I grabbed that cement block and threw it over the back fence. 

I am stronger than this. This will not define me. It was unfortunate, and I do not wish anything like that upon even my worst enemy. But I have to deal with it in my own way and no one, not even I, really knows what that means. I now understand why in moments of complete helplessness, people do irrational things or choose to do or not to do something. And it may seem simple to any outsider looking in. Maybe most others would have stayed. Maybe not. But I now understand what it means to find out who your true friends are. And I now finally understand that I need to be selfish sometimes and only care about whatever is best for me. It may have taken a cement block to crash through my life but I get it now. And to all of you who did think or say those things before...bye.

To be continued.

Wake Me Up When September Ends

Holla friends!

I find that this year has barely started and then I go, whoa, I'm in the 4th week of school...
Father Time, I'm going to need you to slow your roll...this is crazy!

Quick 20 second snap shot of what those 4 weeks have consisted of-

IM clinics
High school Volleyball Officiating
Falling asleep in class (my classmate woke me up before the professor noticed)
Needy Club Sports (see below)
Meetings, meetings, and more meetings
Reports
Paper work
Paper work
...did I mention paper work?
not passing my first test
getting A's on everything else
Not sleeping
looking at job ads
not looking at my resume
Drinking pots and pots of coffee everyday
not sleeping

Whew...

Yeah. That's pretty much been my life. So let me explain in a not 20 second version...

I'm running about 41 club sports and numerous IM Sports. My coworker has the IM side down almost perfectly so a lot of my time is devoted to sport clubs. To be fair not all 41 need a whole lot of help. There's about 15-20 that are especially needy...practice times to reserve, equipment to purchase, travel, insurance, etc, etc.
But that's my job. It just means that I max out the my spending limit super fast because I buy things every day and buy obscure things like paint ball guns, archery quivers, rugby balls, soccer jerseys, equestrian award ribbons, quidditch brooms, etc, etc.
It all adds up super fast. And the next thing I know, I've maxed out for the month and it's only 11 days into the month.
Oops...

Other than that, we're changing a lot but it's somewhat working out. I think we're doing an ok job. I love it, I'm getting to know most of the clubs really well and trying to spread myself out 41+ different directions. But it's all good.

I'm also officiating high school volleyball occasionally to get some more money. It's fun and I miss playing a lot. It's kinda cool to be up on the stand watching the girls and thinking "Man, that was me...8 years ago...god I'm old!"
But then I get a check and I'm like sweet deal! I'll take a few outbursts from coaches screaming at me for that money.

Meetings, and paper work...that's a given. I'm a graduate student with a (part) time job (parenthesis because it feels like a full one) and that just comes with the territory.

I'm starting to look at big girl jobs more and more now. Yikes. That sure is frightening. Not a whole lot of positions open right now, but it's never too early to start thinking about it, right?

My professional staff thinks so too and they're really great about giving us more chances to prepare. Like impromptu interview questions that throw you for a loop in front of everyone at the GA meeting and you start to babble and ramble like you're back in high school and you say 'um' over 17 times in just one answer...

Well..that sucked.

Ugh. That was a bad day. But it's all in the name of helping me prepare. Right? (Just nod your head and say yes.) We also sit down and do mock interviews with the staff and you bring in your application for a job that you would actually apply for and they go through the whole process AND video tape you so you can watch it afterwards to take note.

I had a mock last year. Let's just say it's probably the scariest movie I've ever seen. It's worse than Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Silence of the Lambs.

Me, watching myself on tape. Horrendous.

But all the constructive criticism is good. (again, just nod your head and say yes) It is helpful, honest, it brings you down to earth and reminds you just how unprepared you are for the real world. I'm currently working on not laughing/giggling when I'm nervous or scared, saying 'um' and 'like' every other word. (the Cali girl in me comes out REAL thick when I'm nervous...I almost flipped my hair but restrained from pulling a complete Clueless moment.)

It's just uber painful to go through it and try to better yourself. It did kind of put me in a panic though after I bombed just the one interview question. I immediately ran to my boss the next day and fretted to him.

"I'm not ready! I'm a terrible GA! I can't make it as a real boss! I'm just a like silly student supervisor on steroids, and I'm going to fail! Why aren't you helping me!?"
He kinda leans back in his chair, folds his hands...
"What's today's date?"
"September 15th, but what does that have to do with anything I just said!?"
"Right, September. Exactly. M., you've got 8 more months with me. You're barely a second year GA, you probably are more of a first year than a second year right now. We have time. Calm down. I got you."

Maybe the best thing for me to hear at that point.

He probably wanted to do this but I'm glad he didn't.

Sorry but it's scary for me. Just 12 months ago I was blogging about how I was worried about my staff liking and respecting me and how I would like living in Carbondale. And now I'm fussing over my next big step. The actual real world.

Why does life through so many big life changes at you when you're so so young? WHY
First big one is going to high school. Hindsight, it was the easiest of them all but man, those halls were terrifying the first day.
Next college apps, and SAT's, and then bam! you're out of high school and it's the big move to a new place, a new home and you're only 17/18 years old?? Who thought that was a good idea??? You go through scared as hell but having the time of your life at the same time and about 4 years later society goes "Hey, congrats! You're done! Now settle down and find a real career and become a contributing adult with bills and obligations and responsibilities! What you always dreamed of!" Umm...no thanks.
And then, if you're like me you go on to grad school to just post pone that last part of life, and it's like college all over again, apps, and loans and scholarships and interviews and BAM (again!) you end up moving 2,000 miles away from home. AND THEN....it's finding new friends, figuring out school, you're scared as hell only you have to put on a good face because they put you in a work setting and you're just internally screaming "I've only lived for less than 25 years! 25!!! That's like a blip on the Earth's timeline! Who thought that that's enough time to be ready for ANY of this!!" And they say that 2 years is plenty of time and that you need to start being more professional and market yourself and sell yourself for potential employers and be better at everything and you're still just smiling but  screaming internally "I'm not ready! Is anyone listening?? I'M NOT READY!!"

No explanation needed.

whew. sorry. rant over. But that's a lot of big BIG changes and detrimental life choices to be making and you're barely old enough to drink legally.

That's wack.

But ce la vie, life goes on, and as much as I try (and I really do try) to slow down time it keeps on trucking along and I have to do everything in my power just to keep up.

Sometimes it takes a blog update and a phone call to my daddy to make me a little less crazy but it's all good.

Now I'm going to go check on my beloved sport clubs that have tournaments this weekend and then maybe I'll think about updating my resume. Or maybe I'll save that for tomorrow. It is only September.

To be continued.

My First Day of 18th Grade!

Hello grad school year number 2!

And don't you look great!

Yep. My last year of graduate school. In approximately 9 months I will have 3 letters behind my name…

give me an M..

give me a B…

and give me an A…

what's that spell??

Master's of Business and Administration baby! Those 3 letters will mean that someone thought I was smart enough to work in the real world and that I had spent 2 years getting by in finance, accounting, organizational behavior, marketing and promotion classes with crazy professors and even crazier students. They'll also mean that I spent 2 years getting those letters Free of Charge because the school hired me as a graduate assistant and worked my ever-living butt off in exchange for an education.

You can bet I'm walking across the stage on graduation day like this. Because my MBA makes me oh so fancy.

Sounds like a pretty legit deal for me. And it is. 

I'm so excited for this year and the first day, first week, first month is chaotic and kinda crazy but I'm so glad to be back at it. 

Don't believe me? Ask my student staff. 

The day before classes started we had Supervisor Training. Last year I was nervous, had never met them and was worried over what they thought of me and it was like the first day of high school all over again.

This time around…I wanted to hug them all when they came into our office. Saying hi's and hello's how was summer's and I was too happy to have my students back. Grinning ear to ear, I didn't even mind that I was planning on staying in the office for around 9 hours on a Sunday. My goons are back and that's all that matters.

They're BACK! YAY YAY YAY!!!!

Training went well, I hope, we talked a lot and only saw a few of the goons nodding off but then being brought back to attention when I coughed violently a few times (pay attention class!) After the training we had another meeting with our sport clubs. We hold a draft for practice times and field space. They pick numbers out of a hat and we hold it like a the NFL draft, no trades for position but you choose when and where you would like to practice and if someone picks your spot, you can put up offers for trading. It kinda feels like a stock exchange room when it's happening, men's lacrosse negotiating with women's rugby to use this field on monday in return to share a space on thursday, etc. etc. 

After the clubs left kinda happy we then turned to finishing up our registration for our IM Sports. The new GA, JT, is really good at this part. He gets the system we have online and he rocks at it. Having him around is pretty sweet, he catches on fast, has pretty, actually really good ideas and is fairly funny which makes for a fun work environment.

But then the real fun began…Hello Welcome Week! Cue the club sign ups, the tabling, the marketing, the "Where the heck is ___ Hall?" and "How do I get to ___" questions from a bajillion new, young, naive and scared freshman. It's ok guys, you're going to be fine, but here take a brochure and what the Student Rec Center can offer you!

From BBQ's, Greek Life, Sport Clubs, Meet and Greets oh and did I mention regular class, all of that wrapped up in one whirl wind of a week. Whew. Just rethinking about it makes me kind of dizzy. And it felt like everyone and their mother's wanted me at this event, or that social gathering pushing IM's and Sport Clubs and then class and my email has literally 3,000 emails everyday and my clubs are so needy…ok they do have some validity in getting some equipment and other gear but it's just crazy…

Somedays I kinda wanted to yell this at anyone and everyone who came within 3 feet of my desk.

But the new GA's and us veterans survived. Week 2 was a little less chaotic, ok not really, but I'm starting to get used to it again. Like riding a bike, just jump back on and you're a little wobbly at first but then it's smooth sailing.

Yeah sure. Ok…

Class is ok. It's more or less the same old same old…smaller classes with some familiar faces this time but still the same overly pretentious and chatty professors who make you sit up front so no chance of not paying attention..little does he know that no one can pay full attention for over 3 hours of lecture. It's mind numbing but eh, we'll survive. We also have a bunch of group work already (GAG) but this was expected…although it's still not welcomed.

The professors' reaction when we plead for individual projects. I swear they get the biggest kick out of watching groups crash and burn.

And then Labor Day weekend came and went way too fast and here it is week 3 and already september.…geez that went by fast. Only 4 more months in 2014…holy smokes! That's too much for me to wrap my head around at the moment so I'm going to go to bed and attempt to act like I know what I'm doing. Fake it til you make it, still my motto!

To be continued!