<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7771910204956603665</id><updated>2011-09-04T18:53:20.279-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Reconnoitre</title><subtitle type='html'>On the Search for my Life</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7771910204956603665/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11121587554053870997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8hxbxkBaN_I/SyrdmVi01NI/AAAAAAAAG-E/5kCZu9xbz3o/S220/11237_1198199562782_1462290074_30583377_3738079_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>8</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7771910204956603665.post-2856560061805986822</id><published>2010-04-19T15:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-19T16:08:25.399-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thresholds</title><content type='html'>My College graduation is a mere 25 days away. All of my classes are winding down. I am almost completely done with this faze of my life. I have an interview for a year long, post-graduate, program in London on the last day of classes at school. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At times, I am completely ready to get out of college and move on to "the real world" but at others I just want to start back over at freshman year when I had no real worries and so much less stress. When I had the next four years planned out. So now I'm stuck in the threshold between college life and post-graduation real life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disney World has a river that separates the actual park from the parking lot and "outside" world. Once you cross over that river, you have entered the magical world of Disney and left all of your cares and worries on the other side. I feel like I (and most college seniors) are stuck in the middle of the threshold river. But it's not a magical world of cartoons and princesses and castles that's waiting for us on the other side. The worst part about it is that we don't actually know what's waiting on the other side of our river. We don't know what we're crossing into.&lt;br /&gt;All we know is what we're leaving behind.&lt;br /&gt;But how long can we tread water to stay in this in-between before we sink?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7771910204956603665-2856560061805986822?l=onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com/feeds/2856560061805986822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com/2010/04/thresholds.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7771910204956603665/posts/default/2856560061805986822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7771910204956603665/posts/default/2856560061805986822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com/2010/04/thresholds.html' title='Thresholds'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11121587554053870997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8hxbxkBaN_I/SyrdmVi01NI/AAAAAAAAG-E/5kCZu9xbz3o/S220/11237_1198199562782_1462290074_30583377_3738079_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7771910204956603665.post-3992112141778321293</id><published>2010-01-27T16:16:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T23:44:02.036-05:00</updated><title type='text'>does writing matter?</title><content type='html'>Our lives keep becoming busier and busier. We have to multitask just to get anything done. The art of reading seems to be boiled down to the act of skimming a few sentences on our computers while we simultaneously gchat, email, and update our facebook. So in a world where it feels like reading has lost it's value...does writing matter anymore?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe in the power of writing, in it's influence, but I can't help but wonder if I'm the minority. To me, writing gives you the ability to make a difference and show the world what you believe. In fact, I think that every single person should write. Not everyone can/will write life changing novels, but even the act of keeping a journal is important. Writing is a process of self-discovery and self-realization. It acts as a tool to show you what think and what you believe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate to think that writing is losing its place in the world...but is there a way to stop that? Or do we just have to adjust our writing to fit the new way it is read?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7771910204956603665-3992112141778321293?l=onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com/feeds/3992112141778321293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com/2010/01/does-writing-matter.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7771910204956603665/posts/default/3992112141778321293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7771910204956603665/posts/default/3992112141778321293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com/2010/01/does-writing-matter.html' title='does writing matter?'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11121587554053870997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8hxbxkBaN_I/SyrdmVi01NI/AAAAAAAAG-E/5kCZu9xbz3o/S220/11237_1198199562782_1462290074_30583377_3738079_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7771910204956603665.post-3022315146443274739</id><published>2010-01-25T12:05:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-26T09:18:03.687-05:00</updated><title type='text'>i have a confession...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8hxbxkBaN_I/S13yCVWe61I/AAAAAAAAG_Q/MTiQvts_kBk/s1600-h/DSCN0109.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8hxbxkBaN_I/S13yCVWe61I/AAAAAAAAG_Q/MTiQvts_kBk/s320/DSCN0109.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430762847583791954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I love reality shows. Particularly &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Jersey Shore&lt;/span&gt;. And I adore&lt;br /&gt;Snookie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So on Saturday, three of my friends and I went to a used car dealership to meet Snookie at a Haiti earthquake fundraiser.&lt;br /&gt;She was supposed to be there from 2-4, and when we got there at 2:45, there was a line of about 500 people. Not so surprisingly, there were a lot of girls sporting the poof and guys bringing her snickers and pickles. I was shocked by the number of parents their with their young children...What makes you think that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Jersey Shore&lt;/span&gt; is appropriate for middle schoolers? Two 10 year olds were even walking around trying to sell photocopies of Snookie's autograph to the people at the end of the line.&lt;br /&gt;I was starting to get annoyed because Snookie didn't actually show up until 3 and we were towards the end of the line, so we didn't think we'd actually get to see her. They kept making announcements over the loud speaker saying that they would try and get everyone in, but they stopped letting you take pictures with her and they ran out of pictures for her to sign. Then, a little after 4 they closed the doors to the showroom because Snookie was "tired" (aka wanted to get ready for PDiddy's party that night). But when the last 50 or so people started to stampede the doors, Snookie made a special appearance. Hidden by a circle of bodyguards (and approriatly so, as when the doors closed some guy yelled: "You're gonna get hit in the face by another dude, Snookie!") she did come outside to see everyone. The bodyguards had to lift her up onto the back of a truck so people could see her and she danced and screamed and hung out for a little bit. Ronnie's mom and brother were even there with her (apparently they live in the area). As the bodyguards picked her up and shuffled her to her car she yelled her classic: "Peace out, bitches!" In the end, it was just like on the show-I love her, she starts to get annoying, then she wins be back over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Snookie is as tiny as she seems on t.v.&lt;br /&gt;2. She did not have the poof, but instead a trucker hat and sunglasses&lt;br /&gt;3. She was not that tan...but I guess it is winter now&lt;br /&gt;4. I did get her autograph...on a pixelated computer print out of the show's cast&lt;br /&gt;5. I still think she's adorable&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8hxbxkBaN_I/S13agdiPDcI/AAAAAAAAG-4/9dM7DoQqs4k/s1600-h/DSCN0122.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 282px; height: 211px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8hxbxkBaN_I/S13agdiPDcI/AAAAAAAAG-4/9dM7DoQqs4k/s320/DSCN0122.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430736976897576386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Ronnie's mother did not understand why we would want a picture with her. His brother, though, ran over to take the picture with us...definitely a guido in training.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8hxbxkBaN_I/S13aOVNBslI/AAAAAAAAG-w/VdY9CPjM6Jg/s1600-h/DSCN0116.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 182px; height: 241px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8hxbxkBaN_I/S13aOVNBslI/AAAAAAAAG-w/VdY9CPjM6Jg/s320/DSCN0116.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430736665423491666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7771910204956603665-3022315146443274739?l=onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com/feeds/3022315146443274739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-have-confession.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7771910204956603665/posts/default/3022315146443274739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7771910204956603665/posts/default/3022315146443274739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-have-confession.html' title='i have a confession...'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11121587554053870997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8hxbxkBaN_I/SyrdmVi01NI/AAAAAAAAG-E/5kCZu9xbz3o/S220/11237_1198199562782_1462290074_30583377_3738079_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8hxbxkBaN_I/S13yCVWe61I/AAAAAAAAG_Q/MTiQvts_kBk/s72-c/DSCN0109.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7771910204956603665.post-579474767586340994</id><published>2009-12-29T12:02:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T12:04:46.992-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Years Resolution</title><content type='html'>1. Now that I have a nice new digital camera &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and &lt;/span&gt;a Flip camera - I need to start doing more interesting things so I can use them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Hopefully that will also lead to actually using this blog more...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy New Year, everyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7771910204956603665-579474767586340994?l=onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com/feeds/579474767586340994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com/2009/12/new-years-resolution.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7771910204956603665/posts/default/579474767586340994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7771910204956603665/posts/default/579474767586340994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com/2009/12/new-years-resolution.html' title='New Years Resolution'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11121587554053870997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8hxbxkBaN_I/SyrdmVi01NI/AAAAAAAAG-E/5kCZu9xbz3o/S220/11237_1198199562782_1462290074_30583377_3738079_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7771910204956603665.post-3214631254226104598</id><published>2009-12-14T15:29:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T15:42:22.940-05:00</updated><title type='text'>7 semesters down, 1 to go.</title><content type='html'>I am officially done with half of my senior year. I am, however, no less freaked out about graduation. It feels surreal when I really start to think about it. How can I be ready to be out in the real world? I'm still just a kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do, at least, have some sort of a plan or idea for the future though. I'm applying for a year long internship programme in London. They set you up with an internship, housing, and a class where you "graduate" at the end of the year with a certificate in international business. So my winter break will be spent writing my personal statement and working on that application.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cross your fingers for me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7771910204956603665-3214631254226104598?l=onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com/feeds/3214631254226104598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com/2009/12/7-semesters-down-1-to-go.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7771910204956603665/posts/default/3214631254226104598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7771910204956603665/posts/default/3214631254226104598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com/2009/12/7-semesters-down-1-to-go.html' title='7 semesters down, 1 to go.'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11121587554053870997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8hxbxkBaN_I/SyrdmVi01NI/AAAAAAAAG-E/5kCZu9xbz3o/S220/11237_1198199562782_1462290074_30583377_3738079_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7771910204956603665.post-383225168274066129</id><published>2009-08-24T21:41:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T10:58:41.916-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Some, small, direction.</title><content type='html'>I spent the last four days in San Fransisco visiting my sister. It was great to be able to hang out with her and get to see where she lives. I have also been considering San Fransisco as a possible city to move to after graduation. Having a couple days to simply wandering around the city was nice, a way to get a feel for the city.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm slightly torn on my feelings about SF, though. On one hand, it's very laid back and casual, there are some gorgeous areas, (and it's very vegan/vegetarian friendly). However, I don't know if I could deal with the weather. I need real seasons, the in between chilly weather bugs me. And while I do tend to be very laid back on every day matters, if the "chill" atmosphere of the city extends into the working world there, I couldn't handle that. When I'm working, I want to work and be busy and efficient and productive. I hate sitting around in an office not doing anything or waiting around for other people to work so that I can do my work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After spending the weekend thinking about next year and where I should be though, I have decided one thing. I am going to try and go to as many places and do as many things as possible. When I have the chance, why not take it? London is definitely on the top of my list. I just have to figure out a way to get there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Maybe I could live in San Fransisco if I was going to open a vegan/eco-friendly/health conscious bakery?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7771910204956603665-383225168274066129?l=onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com/feeds/383225168274066129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com/2009/08/some-direction.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7771910204956603665/posts/default/383225168274066129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7771910204956603665/posts/default/383225168274066129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com/2009/08/some-direction.html' title='Some, small, direction.'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11121587554053870997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8hxbxkBaN_I/SyrdmVi01NI/AAAAAAAAG-E/5kCZu9xbz3o/S220/11237_1198199562782_1462290074_30583377_3738079_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7771910204956603665.post-8189989198471122748</id><published>2009-08-12T10:40:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T12:04:07.775-04:00</updated><title type='text'>everyone and their mom has a blog...so why do I need one?</title><content type='html'>As I wrote, and thought about, my first post I realized what my problem is. I am moderately passionate about too many things.  There isn't one hobby or craft or field that I am extremely interested in and dedicated to. I really enjoy writing, fashion, baking, cooking, planning/organizing, photography, traveling...But none of them are &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the one&lt;/span&gt; passion in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always been like this too, when I was applying for college I realized that I didn't hold leadership positions in any club because I was involved in too many different activities. You would think that having various interests would be beneficial, but I think it actually a hindrance. How do I figure out what I should do with my life if I can't decide what I even like the most?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that's why I started the blog, really. It will chronicle my last year of college as I search for what it is I really want to do and start my "real life" in the "real world".  Hopefully, it and myself, will have some more direction...eventually...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7771910204956603665-8189989198471122748?l=onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com/feeds/8189989198471122748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com/2009/08/everyone-and-their-mom-has-blogso-why.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7771910204956603665/posts/default/8189989198471122748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7771910204956603665/posts/default/8189989198471122748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com/2009/08/everyone-and-their-mom-has-blogso-why.html' title='everyone and their mom has a blog...so why do I need one?'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11121587554053870997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8hxbxkBaN_I/SyrdmVi01NI/AAAAAAAAG-E/5kCZu9xbz3o/S220/11237_1198199562782_1462290074_30583377_3738079_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7771910204956603665.post-3675495678617099129</id><published>2009-08-10T22:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T23:21:57.801-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"I could write a blog. I have thoughts."</title><content type='html'>Last night, I saw &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Julie &amp;amp; Julia&lt;/span&gt; with my parents. The movie got some bad reviews for being "a granny film," but I thought it was pretty cute. Interestingly enough, though it got knocked for being an old lady movie, there was an good little message in there for people like me. (That is, for those of us in that stage of life where we're about to enter "the real world" and are utterly freaking out because we don't know what we want to do, how we're going to do it, where we're going to be, and terrified that nothing will work out).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Julie Powell was a 30 year old secretary, stuck in her day job, who wanted to be a writer and loved to cook. She found her calling, who she wanted to be, through combining her two interests of writing and cooking. But it wasn't her first job, it wasn't even a real job at first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we all start to graduate and find our first real jobs they might not (and most likely &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;will &lt;/span&gt;not) be our dream jobs, or even related to our dream careers. BUT, that does not mean we failed. You only fail if you give up with where are you. You fail when you settle. Your job title, your desk, your life from nine to five? That isn't who you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead, find out what you care about, what you're passionate about. If you keep trying, keep looking, keep living...you'll find a way to make it work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take a tip from Julia Child - "No fear"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7771910204956603665-3675495678617099129?l=onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com/feeds/3675495678617099129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-could-write-blog-i-have-thoughts.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7771910204956603665/posts/default/3675495678617099129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7771910204956603665/posts/default/3675495678617099129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onthesearchformylife.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-could-write-blog-i-have-thoughts.html' title='&quot;I could write a blog. I have thoughts.&quot;'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11121587554053870997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8hxbxkBaN_I/SyrdmVi01NI/AAAAAAAAG-E/5kCZu9xbz3o/S220/11237_1198199562782_1462290074_30583377_3738079_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
