A Bubble Inside Me

In a lot of ways I am like my older brother, Philip. We laugh the same, we both have an artistic side that enjoys photography and quirky styles (proof here and here), we have the same feet (a fact pointed out by our little cousin) and our noses wrinkle the same way when we make faces.

We also have an unnamed, internal passion that we are trying to find a way to let out.
We have different activities that tap that keg of unbridled energy, one of our favorites is ceramics, but we are both searching for that something that we will not only put all our time and energy into building, but something that will make us money. That's another similarity, we like money. Philip enjoys the concept of money: power, trading, universal language. I enjoy enjoying money; the freedom it allows and the doors it opens. Loving money doesn't overpower us. Not at all. We realize the limitations and superficiality a wealth-focused life can create and continue enjoying and pursuing it.
The difference is Philip has always been interested in entrepreneurship. He is constantly looking for and trying different business ideas, trying to find the idea that will revolutionize the world. I have allowed my passions to find a release in the activities I come across, but never saw entrepreneurship as my avenue. That has changed lately. For the past three years I've dated Taylor who, like Philip, has spent his whole life pursuing entrepreneurship and, unlike Philip, has found ways to implement that passion and be the self-made businessman. Throughout our time together, Taylor has talked about his path, teaching me the mindset necessary to see what I have to offer and how that translates into business.

Two nights ago I had a solid business idea. Today I found Young Female Entrepreneurs and I think I'm hooked. Something has clicked and I finally understand the bubbling of passion and drive moving from the chest to the head as I see an idea form into a potential reality. I think I am an entrepreneur in the making.
I need to call Philip.

Get your Twitter on!

Ever since I got into Twitter in 2010, I have been hooked. I've been frustrated for a while with the feeling of sorting through junk on Facebook; kind of like thrifting but without the cool find at the end of digging through everything. I would not say I am a pro at Twitter, but I am definitely pro-Twitter.

For my internship I'm creating a proposal of a campaign that encourages students to create and maintain an online presence for professional purposes. Right now I'm working on a "How To" for students who want to use Twitter, but may be discouraged by the seemingly complex culture of tweets, hash-tags and DMing. It's understandable. In order for Twitter to fit into the tidy 140 characters it requires enough shortcuts and abbreviations to have its own dictionary. As I start at the basics, I find myself enjoying social media even more. I have to really dig deep, finding answers to possible confusion. I am not writing a manual on the website, I am writing the two-page 101 course.

So why does this matter? Because in this world of instant information I have to move at a hundred miles an hour to keep up with my social media, my GoogleReader, my email and the news. The information overload is fantastic! I can find anything about anything (thank you Wikipedia) as long as it happens within five seconds. While I am grateful that many stories and blog posts can be skimmed in the five seconds (which no doubt anyone who finds this post will probably do) I need to make sure to remember how to dig deeper. How to find the important aspects of a news story or challenge and apply a new topic I come across.

Thank you, Twitter. In your 140 character world I found a slower way of keeping life together.

How adrenaline proves my weakness

I'm not afraid. I don't have any phobias, I love things that are difficult and edgy. I don't often have a moment that makes me nervous, and if I do it just takes a second of re-focusing my mind before I have control of the uncertainty.
When we were in Mexico, this last month, is a perfect example. My brother found and picked up a baby crocodile (it was in a tank, but still it's a two foot long aggressive animal) and I could hardly wait my turn to hold it. It wasn't until I watched my other siblings take the creature with a surprising level of trepidation that I recognized my comfort.

Sadly, there is always the exception to the rule. I am afraid of confrontation. Not debating. I will argue with someone about ideas, but when it comes to confronting someone about a slight against me (if it's an attack on someone I love I don't even think. I instinctively check the offender as a protection for the offended), or a situation in which I feel he/she is wrong, I'm useless. It's really embarrassing actually. A huge weakness and something I've consciously been addressing.

Today I was given the chance to confront an unfamiliar but frustrating roommate. I'll skip the list of situations that have left me feeling like this roommate has not broken out of the "I live at home and Mom takes care of everything" stage to the "I now live in my own place and should take care of it, if not for me then at least out of respect for my roommates" stage, but I think you get the idea.

After Taylor and I spent an hour deep cleaning the kitchen this afternoon he went home while I finished babysitting my crock-pot rice pudding. She came in and started making a simple dinner (no cooking required) and decided the garbage can was too full so she pulled the bag out and walked outside. My immediate thought was, That's good of her. I should re-evaluate my feelings. When she gets back in I'll thank her for taking it out. . .  as quickly as she exited she re-entered. She had left the bag sitting outside our front door, half way to the garbage bins. Seriously? I was so shocked I didn't say anything because my back had been turned so I second guessed my feeling of what she had done. As I walked across the street I confirmed my initial reaction. There was the garbage bag right on the ground.

Skip forward an hour and I walk back home and see the bag unmoved.

Enter Hilary.
Roommate enters on the way from the laundry room to her bedroom.
Roommate: Hey
Hilary: Hey.
Hey, question: Were you planning on leaving the garbage bag outside the door or...?
Roommate: Oh, I forgot to take that out. Thanks.
Hilary: Okay. I don't want to come across as bitchy or anything, I was just wondering.


That's it. But all it took was the split-second decision to act against my inclination and confront her and my adrenaline hit in full swing; shaking knees and everything. I was so pumped.

It really is quite late that the moment was so epic for me. But that is life.