Ramona Crisstea View original post 177 more words
Originally posted on The Musing Quill:
Going back in time, I ponder over the last hour. I begin by reading ‘If on a Winter’s Night a Traveller’ because that’s what I am reading presently. At the back of my mind, I’m thinking about what an overrated book ‘Paper Towns’ is. After 18 minutes gone and I know it’s 18 and not 20 or 25 because I am wearing a digital watch. So it is 18 minutes 31 seconds precisely. I realise I’m on page 7. Bam, that’s where I started. I’ve read this sentence more than a dozen times. I am the man who comes and goes between the bar and the telephone booth. Or, rather: that man is called “I” and you know nothing else about him, just as this station is called only “station” and beyond it there exists nothing except the unanswered signal of a telephone ringing in a dark room of a distant city. I read it once more to see if it means anything different. Nothing. I must be out…
Originally posted on Free Thoughts of a Scattered Brain:
Three months ago my boss came to me and told me that I had to work out of town for a month. I would only be about an hour away, so I could commute if I wanted to. This was a minor annoyance, but no big deal. I could still sleep in my own bed and go on with my normal routine without too much interruption. That changed two weeks ago. Due to budget cuts, I wouldn’t be working an hour away. Instead, I would have to drive two hours away to Jacksonville and work there for a month. No way was I commuting now. When I found out I had to spend a month away from home, I was heated. I was the only person from my office who had to travel away from home this year. And this would be my second time doing it. Last time I also traveled to Jacksonville, and I was miserable. I was upset I had to spend time…
As a 20-something with a Facebook timeline filled with posts of other 20-somethings and older, it isn’t uncommon for me to see posts that link to articles about young adulthood. The articles usually discuss ways that you are supposed to/how to get your life together. Recently, I’ve seen an influx of articles that combat this argument by stating that you are “supposed to be lost and/or not have everything figured out when you’re in your 20s.” So I decided to write an article to clear up this debate. Here it is:
Candice Morgan was appointed as the first head of diversity for Pinterest, in January 2016. Morgan will be helping the company in initiatives of inclusion in order to make Pinterest a more diverse product and company. Prior to her position with Pinterest, Morgan worked spent 10 years with Catalyst in assisting global companies to become more inclusive. “In the world of diversity, things take time.” You can find out more about Candice Morgan here. Know of any notable millennials? Share at email@example.com or comment below.
WARNING: This may cause gif overload, but who doesn’t love a good gif. After attending school for four years and building up debt, we all want to graduate with a salary paying job that allows us to live comfortably and pay off student loans.
Originally posted on F R E E D O M:
When you imagine someone say, “I don’t care!”, what’s the first image that pops into your head? A spoiled child? A unreasonable teen? A heartbroken young adult? Or a middle aged paper pusher experiencing mid-life crisis? Whatever scenario came to mind, now think about this. What would the person in the situation do? The likely answer, in the case of a child and the teen, throw a tantrum, be reprimanded for said tantrum – the heartbroken young adult, tell him or herself to get it together, then move on – and in the case of the middle aged paper pusher, convince him or herself this is just how life is and keep it together for the sake of the ‘bigger picture’. However, if you look at all of these scenarios, what is it that they’re all missing? We could of course, throw the catch all phrase – ‘these people need self reflection’ – sure, but what does that mean? What if these people simply went…
Originally posted on Tara Pook:
I usually avoid Times Square like carrots in my shrimp fried rice, but tonight I couldn’t help but stand here for a few minutes. I’ve learned a thing or two from the tourists I rush past. They’re so happy and in the moment, as they marvel at the big lights. It reminds me to be grateful for the opportunity to live and learn in this city. And although this past year has been rather tough, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. The patience I’ve gained is not only manifesting itself in waiting for the promises God made to me when I moved here, it is also manifesting itself in the way I’ve shown patience with those around me. Like showing kindness to a tourist struggling with her luggage, or treating a homeless man like he’s not invisible. So I guess I say all of this just to say thanks NYC, for making me a better person. —Tara Pook