Oddly enough, Christmas shopping has become more difficult now that I can afford presents. With a decent budget and dozens of people to gift, my creativity and shopping abilities have been put to the test. My Google searches are all paraphrases of “what to get (insert relative/friend here) who likes (insert hobby/interest here).” After hours on Amazon and Etsy, I found myself at Walmart last Saturday staring at prepackaged spa gifts and touch sensitive desk lamps. My mind spent the whole time trying to fit items to recipients and price tags to budgets. I spent my money, spent my time, spent my energy, and spent my patience. Hours later, I lay on the couch still searching for the right present for all the right people in my life.
Read MoreOne of the best parts about running That First Year is getting to read all of the stories y’all send to me and thinking “Wow, that gal or guy is one helluva writer!” I’m forever grateful to be given this opportunity to take care of this space, creating community through stories shared of That First Year after college and beyond.
Below is a list of 10 posts that received the most reads this year. Give these posts a read as we bring this year to a close.
Read MoreI felt warm tears rise in the back of my eyelids when I knew where the conversation was going. Was I wanting to cry? Was I really sad? Oh, hell no! This was about to be really exciting news!
Read MoreThe other night, I drove the long way home, making lefts and rights that took me further from my vacant apartment. I listened to the kind of music that makes you think thoughts and feel feelings, and I passed by homes decorated for the holidays, the light within spilling out into the December cold. I’ve always admired these beautiful southern homes, but I don’t necessarily want the house or the massive paycheck you need to buy said house; I just desire the warmth that I imagine is inside.
Read MoreSo how can we help the oppressed around the world during this season of giving? How can we help bring forth a “new and glorious morn” for our brothers and sisters who are suffering? One way is to donate to the charities and nonprofits who are doing the hard work on the ground to alleviate suffering. Here is a list of suggested organizations who are in need of your support this Christmas season.
Read MoreI don’t want to write about “the meaning of Christmas.” I don’t know what that is yet. So I want to write about space.
Read MoreI have several dreams in my pocket.
I keep them close at all times. Despite how old the jeans may be, or if the pocket is full of random nothings, or if it means squeezing the dreams between my hips and the waistline of my leggings, I just know that I must hold onto these dreams.
Read MoreThis weekend, That First Year celebrates two years of existence, which also means I’ve now been out of college for two years. I feel like I should have some sort of grasp on this “adulthood” thing, but despite what idealistic-dreamy-girl-college-me thought, I still have no real idea of what I’m doing with my life. They don’t really tell you in college that you never actually “figure life out,” do they? Turns out life isn’t a problem to be solved or a puzzle to be figured out after all, it’s just a string of days—good ones and bad ones and meh ones—to be lived in wild abundance. These two years have definitely been a lesson in this.
Read MoreI tend to come apart on trains.
There's something about the liminal space of them; that in-between, not quite anywhere feeling that nourishes my reflective (and overdramatic) side. Throw in a sunset or a rainstorm, or any kind of weather that feeds my ability to wander the full spectrum of my emotions; add my headphones and a Starbucks Christmas takeaway cup, and you've got the recipe for a dreamy, introverted girl's fall-apart-on-a-train kind of situation.
Read MoreRefreshing my inbox won’t make an awaited email appear any faster. I know this. Of course I know this. But that certainly doesn’t stop me from clicking that little circular arrow every thirty seconds. Waiting for good news—in this case, a coveted job offer—is excruciating, and if constantly reloading my Gmail makes it marginally more tolerable, then I will continue refreshing all day long.
Read MoreI, on the other hand, have no one. I like to tell everyone I’m happy, but I’m really just pretending. Sure, I’m grateful for a million things, including my job. I love work. Work keeps my mind busy, and so I’m always there. I’m there on off days; I’m there even when my boss says, “Go home.” I wait around. Biding my time. Fighting the loneliness. I distract myself from dawn to dusk. I wake up, I work. I sleep. Exhaustion is my liquor. Exhaustion keeps me from feeling too much, from missing anyone too much.
Read MoreI have never worked a job that didn’t take the magic out of the experience for me. For all the jobs I’ve had, I would much rather just be an audience member, popcorn in hand, pretending that I don’t see the stage ropes that are holding the flying actor up.
Read MoreThere’s something about the holidays that makes me feel so at home.
It’s been seven months since graduation. I’ve moved back to my hometown to live with my family, driving an hour to and from work every day, and it almost seems as if I’ve had to search to find my place in the world all over again. I’ve had to come to terms with friends moving away and getting engaged and married and life changing so quickly.
Read MoreA year ago today, I went on my first (and only) Tinder date. My roommate and I decided to try the app on a whim one night; I desperately wanted to delete it off my phone the next morning but decided I’d give it one week.
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