it's a Switchfoot day.

I wish my parents didn't go to bed so early so I could call my mommy late at night when I'm lonely and unhappy. I also wish I were still a teenager so I'd be justified in all this pointless emo angst. Like, wow.

---

Are you discontented?
Have you been pushin' hard?
Have you been throwin' down this broken house of cards?
It'll be a day like this one
when the world caves in
when the world caves in
when the world caves in
...
Is this the new year, or just another desperation?

---

And I wish I were a better person.

Love always,
molly

guess some people never grow up

I only have 13 days left of school EVER. This is freaking me out, man. As is the constantly asked question, "So what are you going to do after you graduate?" Maybe I'll just come up with creative answers to avoid it. "I'm joining the circus." "I'm going to lead scuba trips off the coast of Australia." "I'm getting married to my goldfish." "I'm returning to the home planet." Maybe people would leave me alone then...

but probably not.

To celebrate my last remaining days as a college student, I pulled an almost-all-nighter on Thursday. Got home from work stuff at about 11:30, took a shower, did homework until 2:15 then got out of my cozy bed and went to see the 2:50 a.m. showing of Harry Potter. WORTH IT. I haven't seen an HP movie in theaters since the second one came out. This one was beautiful, with sweeping landscapes and lots of wide-angle shots. Although I went with three boys and didn't know that every nerd-boy in the world has a major thing for Emma Watson. Hunh. Weird. (I personally had a thing for the werewolf snatcher. Probably the swamp thing could put on a leather jacket and a British accent and I'd be attracted to him. It's bad.)

Came home at 5:30, finished my homework, slept for two hours and went off to class like a good kid.

I'm not ready for college to be done. I mean yes, I am ready for classes to be over forever. I hate my classes this quarter. Also there's a deadline after which you're not allowed to drop classes, and it was 5 days before I tried to drop my awful awful econ course. Fmylife. But I like this college thing--the ready-made friends, the adaptable sleep schedule, the excuse to eat unhealthily and have adventures late at night...sigh. I hope I've taken full advantage of it.

I'm supposed to hear back from the AP about that internship by the end of this month - so in the next week and a half. We'll see how all this life stuff works out...I'm trying to remember that God's plans are way better than mine.

Love always,
molly

you could've just propped me up on the table like a mannequin

I have a really good memory. Not eidetic, but still good. I never forget a face, so I have to do that awkward pretend-not-to-know-people-I-see-because-I-know-they-won't-recognize-me thing. I remember conversations I have; I remember what people were wearing; I remember random things people tell me--funny stories, secrets, dreams, hopes, whatever. The more important the person is to me, the more I remember what they say and do. And then I have that annoying ability to recite movies as I watch them, because I remember lines word for word.

Wouldn't it be awesome if everyone had a good memory?

Love always,
molly

darlin' do not fear

Wasn't that unicorn picture awesome? I mean, like, wow. Epic beauty on all fronts.

But aside from that, this is the first real blog post in over a month. Oops. Life happens, I guess.

Life for the past month has been the Daily, then some more of the Daily, then a sprinkling of schoolwork and a dash of spending time with friends (shout-out to KL and our amazing adventure-fraught weekend in the rain) and then a shitload more of the Daily. (Probably shouldn't say shitload on here, but look! I did it again. Oh well.)

It's fun, though, really it is; it's just a lot of time and I still don't feel like I'm on top of things. And I worry about my coworkers. They should get class credit for what they're doing--working as the news editor or editor-in-chief is so much more demanding than all of our journalism classes combined, and it counts for nothing.

On top of work/school/play has been this internship stress. I've now gotten seven e-mails, I think, informing me of brilliant and talented individuals from my Rtrs intern class who have been hired on to longer-term or permanent positions within the company. Awesome for them, and Lord knows they deserve it, but it does rub it in my face a lil bit.

I've spent some long weeks here recently thinking about all the ways in which I'm inadequate compared to the people who are getting the jobs. It's frustrating because no one understands or believes me when I say that No, really, I am not this great amazing journalist. My resume is impressive, but so much of that has been cheating - the UW bought me into the Rtrs program, and then once I got there, I did not crank out award-winning stories week after week like my peers who have now been hired. I'm kicking myself a lot lately over all the missed opportunities to prove my mettle.

Still, though, if I'm going to succeed and get a job, I have to remember that I am talented, and that I do have some good experience, and that I am equipped for this career. Plus, I mean, God's been opening doors for me all through college that should never have been opened, so I have no reason to think he'll stop now.

So yes...culminating point of the stress was my interview with the AP today for their summer internship next year. I had been planning to turn in the application by next Monday, the national due date, but when I called the local bureau they wanted to meet this week. Whew - talk about panic mode! I built my website (well, it's a wordpress, but still: mollyrosbach.com) in one night last week, wrote my cover letter, chose my clips, e-mailed them all in to the bureau chief and then went in there this morning to interview and take the writing test.

I was freaking out this weekend, trying to read all the news I could and familiarize myself with the whole voter's guide so I would be prepared when she asked me about topical issues - state income tax an I-1098, Murray's role in bringing funding to Hanford cleanup, privatizing liquor sales, all that stuff - and I had some great story ideas that I was going to talk about, but she didn't ask me anything like that. I'm a little worried that I should have pushed more to talk about it, but I wanted to seem confident, not brazenly forward. All in all, I felt she gave me plenty of opportunity to tell her about myself and my qualifications, and I think I responded calmly and confidently.

The writing test, then - hoo boy, I was terrified. Brad in Santiago had told me about the Reuters writing test, and just thinking about that made me want to run away. But this was easy! Just some sentence rewriting for grammar and corrections, then some story rewriting for clarity, news value and brevity. I finished in an hour and a half, which she was surprised/impressed by, but that freaked me out too...did I finish quickly because I'm just that awesome, or because I didn't give it the time and thought it deserved? Oh for the love of second-guessing myself!

Anyway. On the whole -- miraculously good interview. I'm still working on making my first response in those situations "Thank you God!" I'm much more likely to think, "Oh, I needn't have worried after all," than to realize that my whole life is an answered prayer.

In other, non-stressful news: I went up to Port Townsend this weekend (not the best timing, but we planned it before the interview date was set and I didn't want to push it back) and it was as magical as ever. Oh, those hippies. I do love them. Got to show my friend from the Daily all the small-town wonders, visit my friends, walk over some beautiful country, eat the most delicious pizza in the world, have some great late-late-night conversations, and relax. My soul breathes better up there.

And hey, who knows, they might have an opening for a reporter right around the time I graduate. I'd love to live up there for a couple years.

Yikes, though...I wonder what would happen if I got accepted for the AP internship and then got offered a position at the Leader. Internship with the dream company or job with small-town weekly? Hmm. Vamos a ver.

More other news: I've been listening to this song almost constantly; I recommend it for hard times. (Thank you Sarah for giving it to me last summer.)

One more: Singlehood. Le sigh. I don't really mind, and I don't think about it constantly like I have at some points in my (admittedly short) life, and I like being selfish and only having to worry about myself right now, but still. I'm such a "want what you can't have" kind of person. Oh, singlehood.

"But it won't last; your worries will pass. All your troubles, they don't stand a chance."

Love always,
molly

happiness.

More unicorns at Cornify

nooks and crannies

What on earth is a cranny?

I wish I could blog regularly, but I always end up writing so much that I get exhausted by the act of updating, and I'm sure the two people who read this get exhausted too.

Not much to report on the home front. We watched Mark graduate from boot camp last week, all spiffy in his "dress blue deltas," whatever that means. He's probably the only person I know who left boot camp thinking it was too easy; he said they didn't work them hard enough and he's gotten fat. He may be psychotic. But it's been good being home with him, watching The Unit and eating peanut butter M&Ms and being lazy together.

I'm not at all packed for school; today was actually the first day that I UN-packed from Chile. (With all the boxes and stacks in here, and remembering my time frame at the end of school, I guess I never really unpacked from my apartment, either. Yikes.) But oh well. I'll get it together tomorrow afternoon.

Man, I'm boring. I wish I were in Chile again. Being in Chile was innately interesting; more interesting than me sitting at home, anyway. (Although it didn't have peanut butter M&Ms, which detracts from its interest quite a lot.) I hope they miss me over there. My host cousin/favorite Chilean said I was the first gringo to really be a part of their group; I really hope I get to reunite with them someday soon. There's that friend dilemma again - making them and leaving them.

But I'm trying to look at it from a different perspective--a less painful perspective. When I came home, I started telling myself that I wasn't leaving anywhere--I was just going somewhere new. It requires some shifting in my brain; home may not be able to be home base forever; it just gets to be a new destination. Going to Chile was an adventure, going to Richland was the next adventure, going to Seattle on Saturday will be the next. It's all semantics. If I say it right, I never have to leave anything.

It's just an odd thought to bounce around in my jangly-jumbly head.

All these people I've met and left - I'm keeping a mental list of the countries I could visit and stay with friends. (If any of you are reading...surprise! I'm counting you as good enough people to let me crash on your couch.) There's Scotland with Megan, whom I met in our hostel in Barcelona and with whom I've stayed in contact via Facebook for the past 2 years; Germany with Helge and France with Francois, both of whom I met in Cadiz and have kept up with on Facebook as well; Alexandra in Switzerland and Alexandra in Portugal, both from Reuters; Migue in Spain or the Canary Islands, wherever he happens to be at the time; Gaby in Peru, also Reuters; and the mission team in the Dominican. How many is that? Eight? Wow. Oh, and the family in Chile, obviously, so nine. Yep. Someday I'll save up enough money to go visit all these fantastic people.

Every now and then I just have to shake my head and wonder at my life. I have been so blessed in such a short amount of time--my life is like Never Land -no gaps between adventures, but nicely crammed. I'm 21 and I've lived on three continents! How did that happen?

Exciting times, my friends.

Love always,
molly

man up already

I'm a bit disappointed with myself today.

Last week, as part of the constant barrage of in-company e-mails that we get on a daily basis, I received a job advert message, advising everyone of positions available within Rtrs.

Most of the time, the job descriptions in these e-mails make me start to hyperventilate. They're so intimidating! I didn't know such widely capable people existed. Take today's for example, calling for a company news correspondent in Beijing:

"The successful candidate will have extensive experience in China, and a record at breaking news in this fast developing market. In addition to reporting on China’s domestic companies and the steady stream of top foreign executives that pass through Beijing, the reporter will also break source-based stories and write ahead-of-the curve analyses and interviews. Broad familiarity with the strategic and financial challenges facing Asian businesses is essential, and the candidate will be able to speak Mandarin and read Chinese. The reporter will be required to travel on assignment from time to time and to work the occasional weekend shift."

That's not even half as bad as the alert about positions in Russia that opened up this week. I had the urge to run away from my computer after reading those ones.

But anyway - usually, reading these just depresses me and makes me think that I'll never, ever be able to work in this company.

But last week, I read one that made me excited instead of discouraged. It was for an "enthusiastic, enterprising reporter" in Ireland, a 3-person bureau that's covering Ireland's economic woes as well as the political unrest between Northern Ireland and the UK.

I read the whole advert, sat back and started dreaming. Ireland. I could do that. I'm not quite there yet, but give me this fall quarter, one more macroeconomics class and weeks spent reading everything Reuters or Bloomberg writes about it, and I could be there.

I spent a week going back and forth on my own confidence--could I do it, really? Wouldn't they just laugh in my face? And really, I don't meet the requirements; I haven't even graduated yet. But then I'd tell myself, Hey, it takes at least 2 months to get a work visa finalized; by that time I'd almost be done with school. And talk about enthusiastic! Who's more enthusiastic than a starry-eyed 21-year-old, fresh out of college? No one, that's who!

But I waited, and waited. Finally on Tuesday, I hesitantly brought it up to my boss, posing it more as a "Could we do a mock-job application for this, just to see what I would need?" My boss, who is awesome, said, "Well, don't you just want to have a go?" Huyyy! Maybe...? No. Maybe??

He gave me the hiring manager's number, told me to call her; I did, she didn't answer. He said, no matter, call tomorrow. Yesterday I put it off, trying to think of something intelligent to say into the phone - "Hi, I meet none of the requirements, but I was wondering if it'd be worth it for me to apply?" By the time my boss asked me if I'd called her, it was past work hours in Ireland. Whew. He said, "Well, call tomorrow."

I didn't call today.

He figured it out; at about 3 p.m. here, he said, "You never called, did you?" I told him I chickened out, and he told me that being pushy is a necessary trait in a journalist. "There are plenty of other people out there who want to make you fail. You don't want to be doing it to yourself."

Ireland. I could've done Ireland, I really could've. How old am I going to be before I get over this stupid, self-deprecating fear of failure?

Love always,
molly