The word of life the day is: mistake.

I come face to face with mistakes more than I’d like to admit.  In fact, they stalk my life worse than anything DJ Pauly D has ever encountered on The Shore. Today, I made the mistake of eating five chocolate dipped macaroons before going on an impromptu run outside. Let’s just say I haven’t felt a stomach cramp like that since, well, ever. And the other day,  I drank coffee after 3 P.M., unaware that I have the same internal workings as an 80-year-old woman.  I couldn’t fall asleep for days.  Not to mention, I had terrible heartburn.

But my mistakes don’t only involve internal bodily harm. The truth is, lately I’ve been behaving in weird, mysterious and dumb ways. I’ve partied on the occasional weekday. I went running back to a guy that didn’t deserve even the time it takes to bat an eyelash in his direction. I stopped working out because I thought eating less would make me happier.

Mistake, mistake, big (literally) mistake.

And while these self-inflicted issues continue to frolic my way, I always have that small glitter of reassurance. Reassurance in knowing that (even though I’ve learned the hard way), I’ll never do it again.  Hands on experiences and mistakes are always the best, right?  Once I learn the hard way, I learn. I learn to never make the same mistake twice. Right?

Wait, why is no one answering me?
Hello?
Bueller?
Am I right?!

I’m wrong. Read More »

When I was a little girl and thought of growing up, I closed my eyes and saw a life full of prosperity. I saw a world where I could do what I loved most, play Barbies in my spare time, and make a lot of money being a veterinarian, curing boxes of adorable puppies on a daily basis.  Then when I turned thirteen and reality was a little clearer, Celine Dion proved to me I had the pipes to belt out ‘My Heart Will Go On’ until my heart (and those around me) would not go on any longer.  I knew that someday I would date Justin Timberlake because we were at the same place in our musical careers and we could understand each other.

When I graduated high school and Justin Timberlake started dating Cameron Diaz, I knew I had to pick an alternative life.  It took some time (and a few people cringing at the sound of my voice), but I soon realized I could not be the next pop artist. Instead, I would go to college and dig into its grab bag of opportunity.

I wanted to find out who and what I wanted to be.  And I had a four-year time crunch. Read More »

I’m having a pre-post-grad crisis.

Which is probably not a term you’ve heard all that often, especially since I’m 90% sure that I just made it up. So let me explain. The symptoms are not all that different from a post-grad crisis, except I’m not actually a post-grad yet. I’m a senior, a few months from graduation and I have absolutely no idea what comes next. And despite my many, many promises that I wasn’t going to worry or care or wonder, I can’t help myself. I’m thinking about it. I’m thinking about it a lot. And I don’t know what to do.

Right about now you’re thinking something like, you and every other 21-year-old out there. And you’d probably be right. No one really knows what they’re doing or where they are going straight out of college. But for the sake of this column I’m going to be the self centered twenty-something the world is always making our generation out to be anyway and I’m going to complain about my problem like I’m the first and only person to ever graduate college.

You’ve been warned.

This idea is something I’ve touched on earlier in this column, but I haven’t really had much time to contemplate it. Last semester was really, really busy. So busy that I almost forgot what college was all about, so much that I forgot how to enjoy myself. But this semester, that hasn’t been the case. Things have calmed down. I’ve calmed down. But all this free time has obviously left me with too much time to think. Because  I. AM. FREAKING. OUT. Read More »

Even though being a post-grad hasn’t been an easy ride (biggest understatement of the year), I have plenty of things to be thankful for this Thanksgiving season. So in honor of the holiday and my new “the bowl of stuffing is half full” mentality, here is a list of post-grad things worth celebrating this time of year:

1. Graduation gifts – Luckily when you graduate, people give you gifts and money and things that you need. Even though these gifts are like “Hey, you’re out of college now and you’re kinda on your own so here is some luggage,” they make transitioning very happy.

2. I’m cafeteria free – Albeit eating in a dining hall and having a meal plan is convenient, not having to eat food made for 800 people is a dream. Do you know how amazing it is to eat food that is warm and flavorful? Maybe my alma mater wasn’t too fabulous in the food department (minus the Swedish meatballs … I lived for those), so I’m alone on this one, but I’ll take making myself food any day over dining hall slop.

3. I can wear my underwear whenever I want – Seriously, every time I would just want to veg out in my dorm room and just comfortably enjoy being in my underwear (with a bag of chips), someone would knock. (Editor’s Note: Thank god they didn’t just walk in. Awkward!) And you know, then you have to get up, put on pants, and open the door. Not now. I can wear my underwear all day and no one bothers me. Hooray!

4. No drama – Getting away from college has been a blessing. No gossip. No drama. Just memories and keeping-in-touch with those I want to (and staying far, far away from those I don’t).  I don’t have to deal with classroom politics, and I don’t have to deal with drunken sorority girls elbowing me on dance floors. It’s great being able to step back from the stuff that made me go “Ughh, I’m so over it.”

5. I have a degree– Even though it may not be enough to find the kind of job I want, I’m glad I have my Bachelors and I’m glad I worked my ass off to get it. College went fast, but the knowledge and the subjects that interest me will last a lifetime. No complaints there! Read More »

I still haven’t written my personal statement yet.

You know, the one that more or less says “explain yourself in 700 words or less.” The one that asks you to take the last four yours of your life and make them fit in an essay. The one that asks you to be creative, and witty, and unique, while also demonstrating your intelligence and artfully adding in all of your accomplishments. The one required for college admissions, scholarships and awards, and, in my case, the one required for grad school applications.

Yep, that one.
I just can’t seem to write it.

The truth is, I’ve never been a big fan of personal statement essays, or as grad schools like to call them, statements of purpose. (Because changing the name will differentiate them from the nightmare that was applying to college.) They all sound exactly the same, and everyone says what they think the admissions board wants to hear, and everyone talks about family history or motivation or their many deep and meaningful reasons for pursuing the career path they’ve chosen. And basically, what it comes down to is one giant cliché. And I hate clichés. And so do the admissions boards, or at least, that’s what they claim. Read More »

For most normal college grads, the time directly after the cap tossing/couch burning/heavy drinking of graduation weekend comes a period of extreme depression mixed with a tinge of confusion that leads many to make rash decisions.

For some, this means getting a job in Investment Banking or getting (gasp) engaged. For others, this means getting a pet.

Whatever choice they make it is important to remember that college does nothing to prepare us to make such decisions, or for any sort of real life interactions and experiences after we move out of our student housing, clutching our hard earned (ha!) degree.

So, for those of you just entering college or currently enjoying the amazingness that it is, allow me, a recent college finisher, to shed some light and expose the truth.

College is awesome.
College is drunk.
College is staying up all night in the library trying to find someone to hook up with in the stacks.
College is all about making friends and doing stupid things together.

College, however, is not about preparing you for life. Below is a list of things that four (or five/six/seven if you are smart) years in higher education neglect to teach you: Read More »

Right before I sat down to write this I registered for the GRE. Well, actually, I registered for the GRE, opened a bag of chocolate covered cranberries (Kim Kardashian’s snack of choice), and then sat down to write this. But I digress. This was supposed to be a serious moment. Because registering for the GRE is serious business. At least, it is for me.

You see, the whole “post college plans” thing has always been a bit of a sore subject for me. What I want to do with my life, what I have always wanted to do with my life, is write. I want to write, and read, and edit, and that’s all I’ve ever really been able to come up with. But there’s no set plan for how to make that happen. Pre-Law students take the LSAT and get into law school. Pre-Med students take the MCAT and get into medical school. Business majors have the GMAT. Dentists have the DAT. And the rest of us flounder helplessly trying to either find a job or a rich husband graduate program that works for us.

Currently I’m stuck somewhere between the two. It’s why I’ve held off on registering for the GRE for so long (and why I’ve been contemplating head shots so I can join Patti Stanger’s Millionaire’s Club). I didn’t want to shell out the cash, put in the study time, and commit to the freak out if I wasn’t even going to end up at grad school next year.

But I’ve researched some programs and made some (tentative) plans and decided that even if I don’t end up at grad school next year I still want to take the GRE. I want the option. (I like options.) So I registered.

Which means I actually have to start preparing for it. Read More »

I’ve sat down to write the first entry of the column that will chronicle my final year as a college student about fifty a few times now, but I just haven’t been able to figure out where to start. So I figure I might as well start with the truth: I can’t seem to write this column because I’m not really sure how I feel about this whole “senior year” thing.

I mean, sure, part of me revels in the fact that this will be the last year I am forced to deal with pretentious professors and overzealous freshmen. No more writing papers on topics I just don’t care about or being forced to take core courses I have no use for. (I am a currently taking Plagues, Outbreaks and Biological Warfare for my science requirement. I can be bitter.) No more late night cram sessions or midterms. Or finals. No more college.

But no more college doesn’t just mean no more classes, its means no more college. No more college means no more built in, ever expanding social network. No more themed parties or club sponsored events or months off in between semesters. No more college means that I’m going to have to join the real world.

So with that in mind, I’ve decided I’m going to enjoy it while it lasts. I’m a recently 21-year-old, single college girl with way too much to worry about. I have every reason to check out and give in to that oh so tempting state of being known as Senioritis. The only problem? Life won’t let me. You see, it seems that Junior Jenn was much more eager than Senior Jenn. Junior Jenn believed that writing a senior thesis would be fun, that attempting to finish out both of my majors in the fall semester was a great idea, that taking on leadership roles in clubs would be worth it, and that – oh yeah – taking on the roll of tutor in addition to already working 10+ hours a week would be the right thing to do. Read More »

I’m not even five months out of college, and the word “adult” seems to have taken on an entirely new meaning. It appears that the idea of being an adult is boggling post-grads, such as myself, night and day – even over mundane things. Facebook status updates don’t lie, especially when recent grads are excited to update the world about their climb into adulthood:

“I just cooked dinner for myself, and I didn’t even wish it was dining hall food.”
“I’m paying my bills on time this month – like a real adult!”
“I’m turning into my mother now that I’m out of college.”
“How adult of me! I went to a job interview!”

I can’t lie; I’m guilty of putting this idea of being an adult on some kind of pedestal. In fact, if my vocabulary was monitored like songs played on iTunes, it definitely would have the phrase “how adult of me” or just the word “adult” on the top of the charts. Here I am, dabbling with my big toe (not even my whole foot) into whatever adulthood really is, and I’m making a big stink about it.

For example, when I wear heels to my internship (hello – it’s not even a job!), I check myself out in the elevator door reflection and think to myself “How fashionably adult of you.” Funny enough, when I take the heels off after a long red carpet outing, I make fun of my old-college self, “Oh look at you, switching into your trusty Rainbows – the ones that accompanied you to nearly every class senior year.”

And trust me; you don’t even want to hear my adult-o-meter going off when I do household things, especially cooking. Whenever I make dinner for myself, I toot my horn like I just climbed the Mt. Everest of Italian cooking. In fact, I get so worked up over being this LSAT student by day, intern by choice, and wannabe chef by night, I spend hours searching for new recipes and I make out grocery lists ahead of time, so I can continue to evolve into a ‘real’ adult in the kitchen. Read More »

Life obviously does not come with an instruction manual, and I’ll be the first to admit – sometimes I wish it did. When I went off to college, I knew it would take awhile to learn the ins-and-outs of living on campus, actively learning, and partying like a rock star, but it didn’t take me long to learn how to be what I like to call a “professional college student,” fulfilling all the duties and stereotypes known to man. It was easy. Post-grad though, well, it’s just a little more complicated. I never know where life after college will take me.

So, I guess I’m coping by doing what any 22-year-old would do: dabbling a little bit in this and a little bit in that. Although the LSAT is top priority (yeah you evil logic games, I’m talking to you), I have been on the prowl for an internship. In fact, since I’ve been out in California, I have applied for about a million (ok – probably about 25) different internships. Nearly every one required me to get college credit…which sucks for me since I’m past that stage. One, which I took, ended up being a major joke. However, finally, something perfect came along. For about two weeks now, I have been interning at a major online celebrity/pop culture gossip magazine. Instead of sitting behind a desk all day, I spent my first day at the red carpet premiere of Pirahna 3D. Since then, there has been no turning back when it comes to working celebrity gifting suites and Emmy weekend red carpet charity events.

Read More »