Career Plan

I've never watched an episode of The Bachelor[ette]. I think the concept of competing for love is absurd. The ridiculous things people do to prove their worth is straight up silly.

With that said I've decided it may be in my best in my best interest to compete for a rose. I will (undoubtedly) make it through a few rounds while winning America over. They'll fall in love with my apprehension of reality TV and my tell-it-like-it-is way of life. I know, playing up my strengths seems like a slid plan!

Next, I act heartbroken when I get kicked off. I probably will be upset because I don't like to lose, but I'll have to play it up so the world thinks I have feelings for someone other than myself.

Finally, I leverage my place as America's newest IT girl to become a correspondent on Good Morning America. The transition is a no-brainer because I've proven great for ABC's ratings and I have a journalism degree.

You see, being a contestant on The Bachelor is a power move. It'll be good for my career.

If only I thought up this scheme a few years ago I could have been reporting live from Rome today, as the new Pope was named, standing next to the man of my dreams; Josh Elliott.

A Degree in Comedy

Today I saw an article in the Huffington Post about getting a degree in comedy from Columbia College in conjunction with Second City. If this program was offered when I was applying to college I would have been on the first flight to Chicago. Then again, back in the early 2000s I had no idea how insanely absurd my life would end up or how desperately I would need to craft the art of comedic story writing.

I am 28 (almost 29) years old, live with my parents, work a job that pays too little and spend my weekends hanging out with the boys I grew up with. My mom believes those boys are the reason I'm still single. "A nice guy isn't going to approach you if you're always with THEM".

I do have a solid group of girlfriends too. You know, the kind of girlfriends you make in a freshman dorm, pee in alleys with, order late night take-out with, take your first pregnancy test with and promise you'll be friends with till the end of time. And we will be; friends till the end that is. We call ourselves a club. Most of the girls have done their share of growing up. Serious boyfriends, Ivy League grad schools, babies & marriages have filled the past few years of club life. Hell, even the lesbians of the group are starting to chat about future nursery schools.

Don't get me wrong, I want to grow up. Really I do! But, I just can't seem to figure out how.

The day to day occurrences of my life are the makings of a really sad story. Tagline "A girl who never got her shit together". But if I got my degree in comedy I'd turn it into a sitcom. A Seinfeld meets Friends meets Modern Family meets Sex And The City type of show.

Editor's Note: I did take a script writing class in grad school. I got an A. At the end of the semester I was asked out by the instructor. He had a film degree from USC so I said yes. (Having spent my high school years watching Dawson Leary apply to film school, I felt I had no choice but to say yes!) After few dates and an encounter with Murphy Bed (Uncle Jesse style) the relationship came to a screeching halt.

I can fill at least four seasons with stories like this about dweebs I've dated, friends I have and my neurotic family. I'm telling you, I'm a living, breathing sitcom!

Editor's Note 2.0: Despite my Dawson reference, I always have been and always will be Team Pacey.

Let's Try This Again

In an effort to better myself, I'm going to make a conscious effort to blog more. Seriously, I know I say this about every six months, but this time I mean it!

My life is a hodgepodge of laughter and misery and my story must be told! If I promise to take you with me as I navigate through friends, family, work and dating you must promise to read along!

I'm baaaaackk

I had the pleasure of going to a Phillies game last night with my gal pals. As I was driving back to Scranton early this morning I turned on Breakfast With The Beatles on Little Steven's Undergtound Garage. Dizzy Miss Lizzy was the first song I heard. At first I was excited, then I thought "I used to have a blog by the same name". Shame on me for not keeping up on this blog. While I'm sure my tens of readers haven't noticed my absence, I miss not journaling my way through life. Here's an update on what's been going on: Professional - Since I've last written I got a new job, quit said job and got an even better job. I'm really excited about this new experience. I'm finally doing public relations again, which is awesome. Even better is I'm working in the tourism industry. About a year or so ago I had the urge to get into travel pr, but couldn't figure out how. I guess I just had to wait for the stars to align. Family - My Pop is doing much better, considering where he was eight months ago. On the other hand, my Nana is now in the hospital. It seems they made some sort of agreement within their 53 years of marriage to take turns getting sick. It's actually rather considerate, they don't overwhelm their family by being sick at the same time, but they keep everyone on their toes at all time. Personal - I had a run in today that perfectly sums up my personal life. I saw a girl I graduated high school tonight at Jitty Joe's (a local favorite for ice cream). She was enjoying a cone with her husband. I was doing the same....with my parents! Hey, at least I had ice cream! I typically think my life is boring. But, looking back I guess things have been pretty busy. I am going to try to take make more time to jot down my thoughts and daily observances in this blog. This is the return of Dizzy Miss Lizzy.... Stay tuned

The Past Revisited

In regards to the past my motto is simple; only look at it from the rear view mirror as you’re moving forward. If someone or something in your past and not your present it’s for a reason. But lately the past has been sneaking up on my present. Now all of sudden my rearview mirror is more like a fun house mirror, distorting all the clichés I try to live by.

My high school flame recently asked if I’d be interested in catching up. It took me so long to file him away in my “lessons learned” folder I can’t imagine revisiting those old feelings. But here we are ten years later, grown up and hopefully a bit more mature and I can’t help but to wonder, what if I was right when I was seventeen? Is it worth taking a trip back to senior year of high school and to the boy who is probably responsible for my cynical view on relationships because I need to believe that people can change?

It’s not just people from my past, I’ve also spent a lot of time lately thinking about decisions I’ve made in the past.

When the ball dropped and 2006 arrived I found myself getting cozy with a dear friend. We had had a few intimate moments before and like those times we attributed our closeness to having too much to drink. After all, that’s what you do when you’re 21. But on that particular New Year’s Eve I made the decision to leave that boy and meet up with another friend. That decision ultimately lead me to a rather lengthy relationship that never really worked.

Years later I find myself in a very similar situation with that same dear friend. I can’t help but to wonder if I made a terrible decision years ago that put me through years of aggravation when I could have been on my path to happiness with him or, if the present situation is nothing more than it ever was; good old fashioned “twenty-something fun”. That’s the trouble with examining the past. You never know if you’re making a bigger deal out of events than they really were. And if your view of the past is skewed your view of the present begins to skew as well.

When it comes to the past, are the rules black and white? Should we just keep moving forward, or are there some special instances that should be revisited? If I go back, am I destined to make the same mistakes all over again? If I don’t, am I denying a second chance that the universe has graciously given to me?