I Never Really Worked At Friendly's.

So, here is the thing about being a college student and being (essentially) broke: a job, any job, will do. Because there comes a time when money is just money and you will do anything for it.

But here is the thing about jobs: not all jobs are created (or executed) equally.

The (fabulous-awesome-no-really-I-actually-totally-love-it) place where I have worked for the last five years is more than second nature to me. I could do the work with my eyes closed. So naturally, when I went to begin training at my new job I was nervous, but prepared for the differences (or so I thought.)

A little back story: I am a huge fan of Friendly's. Huge. Because there is NOTHING in the Dartmouth/Lake Sunapee regions of New Hampshire. However there is a Friendly's. Now, as a milkshake addict (some people smoke, I like milkshakes, a lot) I need to be able to get a damn good milkshake fairly quickly. At school, Friendly's is my only honest option. At home, I often enjoy a basket of chicken strips and fries from my local Friendly's. Point being- yes, I like the place.

So, a while back, I went into my local Friendly's to pick up a shake and some fries. I happened to know someone working behind the counter and asked her, 'Hey, how do you like working here, I mean, is it good?' After all, I live in a small town and was going to need a job ASAP once I got home. She praised the place ('Love it! So fun! The people are great!') So, I began to consider it. They were obviously hiring, as there were applications on the front counter. She brings over her manager and says, 'You should totally hire this girl, she's great.' What does do? Hands me a pen and says, 'Fill that application out and we'll talk in a minute.'

Long story not so short, I filled out the application, he called ten minutes later. I was hired. I went in a the start of this month and was set to start training on the 12th.

Well, you know what people always say about where they work (especially restaurants?) You'd never want to eat/go/stay/be there again if you knew what really went on? Yeah, that's the story here.

I have never been so appalled by a group of people in a work place. They cussed at each other. Picked fights with the management. Ate in front of customers. Didn't wash their hands or wear gloves when handling food. I was disgusted and I knew by the end of day one there was no stinking way I was going to be able to work there.

So I quit. I had never quit from anywhere before. I had never had the need, nor the desire. I thought I would be peeing my pants in fear by the time I walked in there to talk to the manager on duty. But no, I was perfectly good. And when I walked out? I felt amazing. Liberated. Adult-like. Badass.

I know that I will surely be faced with a similar situation somewhere down the line, and maybe it won't be such a breeze. Maybe because I will have worked there longer than three days. But I think I'll be okay. Granted, I was hoping to gain more from Friendly's than life experience, like say some money, but this will do. Because God knows I need some life experience.

May 24th

I am so worried that I will spend Tuesday completely alone.

Dear God, I don't want to spend my birthday alone.

I love being alone. I truly do. I need my me time. My quiet time.

But Tuesday, Tuesday is my birthday. And as selfish, and stupid, and stuck up, and asshole-y as it sounds, my birthday is so important to me. I cannot be alone all day.

I have been doing good, really good. I have been working and living and socializing. I have been normal. But being alone on Tuesday... I don't know what it would do to me, but it feels like it would destroy me.

And I get that people have jobs. And I get that I'm having a party (and therefore seeing all my people) in two weeks. And I have bought all my own presents. And really there is nothing special about Tuesday other than it is my birthday.

It's just that though, my birthday. And it's the one time where I just don't want to be the only one telling me I am worth it. I don't want to pump myself up in the mirror all day. I don't want to cry at a life insurance commercial because I feel guilty crying for any other reason. I don't.

I just want it to be good. Not perfect, I don't need perfect. I just want good.

And In The End...

The last three weeks of school were amazing. Out of this world. The most fun of the year.

Because I tried something different. Because I met new people. Because I stopped focusing on everything bad that had happened and just went for it.

Because of all that, I walked away from school loving it. I walked away missing people. And now, only a week out, I miss it. I miss the people. I miss living with 1200 other people my age. I miss my routine.

While I know I will miss home in the fall, I also know I will be happy to go back. I am so incredibly proud of myself for making it through the year. I am so proud that I stuck it out, that I just kept waking up each morning and pushing through the day. Because I could, I did. And the reward was... it was something I never expected.

I expected to leave for home on that last day and thank God that I was doing so. I expected to cry about going back within days of being home. I expected to transfer. I never expected to love my life there. I never expected to be happy. But I am.

Maybe next year will be different. Maybe the first year is the hardest. And maybe, just maybe, college can be the time of your life.

Itzy Bitzy Teenie Weenie Not So Much With The Bikini

Last year was about losing the weight that I spent 17 years packing on. Last year I went down about 4 pant sizes. Last year I was so successful and I ended up sort of falling in love with who I am when I work out regularly.

This year was different, very different. This year the last thing on my mind was working out. This year I was more concerned with the strength to get up and get through the day than the size of my jeans. This year was not about weight at all.

Somehow though, I lucked out. I didn't gain the 'Freshman Fifteen.' I didn't even gain ten pounds. I actually lost weight. Only about three pounds- but hey, it's not gaining.

As it stands I am in the 'healthy' range. As it stands I am comfortable with what I see in the mirror. Everyone has good days and everyone has bad days, but most days, I can stand to look at myself. That is something I could not have done a year and a half ago.

Here's the kicker, I bought a bikini. I have not own or worn a bikini since before I was in grade school. And I did it, I bought one. I bought it for my cruise in March. But, surprise, surprise, I couldn't muster the courage to wear it in public (though I tried it on about 100 times.)

The goal for this summer is this: wear the bikini in public, outside, near water. I want to do it. I can do it. The super-self-concious-Rylee says I should probably lose about another 7 to 10 pounds before daring to go in public in something that would bare my... midriff. The rational-you-know-better-than-that-and-you-don't-need-to-look-like-Gisele-Bundchen-to-be-beautiful side says differently. I don't know who will win. But that beautiful little black bikini will make an appearance. It will.

After all, I had enough...of me to make it through this year, I can make one goal happen this summer. Can and will.

C'est Fini!

Done.

I did it.

I really did. All those times I said I couldn't? I was wrong, I could. I did.

And honestly, I am so proud of myself. Ridiculously proud.

Because I spent months of time saying I couldn't. I spent months crying, and hating, and just wanting a normal life again. And now, it's over.

Year one is over. And I am still in one piece- a stronger piece at that.

So, yay me. I'm not scared about next year, I am excited. I am ready for it. Yes, four months of summer must come first- but, when they are over, I will be ready.