So, I'm not Rorie Gilmore, but I am a creditable intern;)

Looking for an internship for this summer has been a source of stress as always. Places expect one to apply in mid-October, which means application preparation starting by late August/early September, which was hard considering at that point about eight months ago I was on a deathly stuffy train in Rome. Though I have no complaints, it would potentially cause for internship suffering. Come October however, I was googling sights like LA Times, OC Register, making Skype calls and emailing professors for letters of recommendation like crazy. "Just mail it to London" was my plan. Which would entail all my clips, all my letters and the ever so costly Biola transcript somehow gathered together and mailed to London. Personally I think I deserved an "A" for effort. Then the indicator came to me, as it comes to me with most important decisions in my life, God was saying..."wait." Actually in a lot of ways he was yelling it (to put it in metaphorical terms), so I waited.

My friend Danika followed up with my waiting by offering me a proposition of her own (by now it was mid-November). She was leading an SMU trip to Africa and said I could accompany her and intern, needless to say, this was exciting. I had always wanted to go to Africa, I mean common, Africa? Besides, I really wanted to give something back to God before I graduated and a missions trip felt like an awesome way to do it. Oddly enough though, no spiritual confirmation.

Then it happened: the end of March and my good friend Alex's dad came to visit who happened to be in book publishing in Brazil. I nearly trembled with admiration in his presence, as I LOVE books and would cry with joy to work near them all summer (maybe, cheesy exaggeration). Needless to say, after prayer and thought, as much as I could stand that is before I had to mail in my resume and application. Then it happened -- I got the internship! I will be interning for Tyndale Publishing House in Carol Stream Illinois, which is 40 minutes from Chicago, and four miles from Wheaton, which is where I'll be living. What a blessings! To top it off, I get to work in the editorial department, get paid AND am living with five girls from Wheaton, so the whole thing should be an awesome adventure. I'm honestly counting down the days until May 28th, when I will road trip it there with dad and move into my home in humid Illinois. I'm nervous, but excited. Praise God that I did wait, because this opportunity was definitely one worth waiting for:)

That's it, I'm blogging more. I have decided this in the last three minutes, which I feel is long enough to make a lofty pact with myself in regards to blogging. See the thing is, I alway write, I write constantly, but I never post anything (well, I can't really say never, because if that was the case I wouldn't have the mini plethora of posts below this one), but in relation to the amount of writing I do I honestly hardly ever blog. Why? I think there are several reasons, two mains ones I explored in the post below (being too personal and not knowing who's reading), but I suppose there is a deeper underlying reason, a reason that if I ever want to achieve any form of greatness in the field of writing must be destroyed--my need for perfection. That's right, I said it, I along with millions of other humans, am a perfectionist, and the truth is, I will get somewhere with this mindset, but I will never be great, because I will always be afraid of risking perfection. So, RIP perfection (just as lovestoned was ever so sadly RIPed in a past post). True this post would be better read sectioned into well formed paragraphs, with a witty into., possibly less parenthesis, but then if I had to go through all that I most likely would not be taking the five minutes to write this, but rather thirty, which would inevitably stop me from keeping up a regular blog due to time issues. No, this is not to promise the abolishment of the paragraph or the captivating intro, those elements must live on...yet, it is my pact with myself to end blog perfectionism. So goodbye blog perfectionism, and hello blog of greatness (wow, something about the latter name I just wrote sounds very magical name meets eight year old intellect, maybe blog of greatness is a poor title--scratch that...)