color.

my sister asked why i was emailing my resume to a certain person and i, being the smart aleck that i am, wanted to reply, "because word's been gettin' out around DC about how pretty my resume is. it's in high demand." then i realized something, could word be getting out about my resume? because if a person took an objective step back and surveyed "brianna mcclane's resume" they would find that - it's not your typical resume. and it is especially not the type of resume a person would be apt to find in DC.

and then i began to wonder, what does my resume say about me?

i know that if i picked it up i would immediately think, “i have no idea what qualifies this girl but her use of sans-serif font, the color turquoise and that handcrafted logo means i shall befriend/hire her. not only will we work together, but we will laugh, watch sitcoms and perhaps color coordinate our closets together.” (surely i’m not the only one who color coordinates her closet. it just makes everything so much easier).

of course, i am incredibly biased. a normal person could look at my resume and just say, “what?” perhaps sniff it to make sure i haven’t spritzed it with vanilla body spray (which i have actually debated doing) and then push it under the stack of professional resumes obviously done in microsoft word.

i’m not saying i’m better than these “word-ers” (as i enjoy calling them. or as i just decided to start calling them. whatever). no, i’m just saying – i’m not your typical resume.

of course, this could be partially due to the fact that i’m an overachiever and therefore must use design software to construct the list of my accomplishments and previous places of employment.

or perhaps it’s because we might as well make the world a beautiful place, one brightly colored resume at a time.

then the question begs – “am i the typical DCer?” (once again, these are not real words, i am constructing them out of air).

with my nose ring, medium rare steak preference, cowboy boot wearage, enough love for all political parties, distrust of slacks and, of course, my dependence on tony chachere’s cajun seasoning, i would again say - no.

but my how i do love this city. with the politics, sharp suits, clean metros, friendly bus drivers, obsession with front porch gardens, right-side standing on escalators and the blisters that are becoming a part of my very feet – i love it all.

perhaps that’s what so beautiful about DC – the mixture of people. the majority of us are from out-of-state if not out-of-country. but once we converge into this center of government, we all have something in common. even if it is just brunch.

and with that dear friends, i’ll end by saying…my resume probably is getting talked about (or i hope someone's at least looking at it).

texas.

i usually drive fast.

but tonight - i drive slow. five miles under the speed limit, the window open, the radio off - just the sounds of the passing cars and the wind. the air is pregnant with the promise of rain. it won't deliver. it's been hinting at liquid refreshment for a week now but all that has shown are a few drops and the strike of lightening. it rains everywhere but plano.

late night drives clear my head. of course, it's difficult to find a good place to drive in the suburbs, which is one of the reasons i'll always be a small-town texas girl.

as i drive, i remember other late night drives. i remember heartbreak. my first kiss. campfires. tire swings and creeks, the smell of horses and endless roads all alone. rocks thrown at a bedroom window and early morning walks with best friends.

i'm leaving texas.

i've left before but i've always come back.
this will be the first step for me. i don't think a lot of people realize this - but this is it. this is when i finally move away and when i come back, i won't be coming back to live but to visit. it's time to play grownup complete with learning how to change a tire (of course, i won't have a car for a couple of years so i really can wait).

there are people who don't like texas and search for an exit as soon as possible. there are others that don't understand texan pride and our obsession with our own state. but i'll always love this place. i'll always be the little girl riding a horse up a mountain knowing you have to lean forward. i'll always be the girl who fell in a creek and laughed even in front of her new boyfriend. the girl who would pet a goat over a cat any day, who butters her tortillas as an afternoon snack and wears her grandmother's beaten up cowboy boots whenever possible.

i'm not saying texas is better than other places. i think every place is glorious in its own way.
i'm just saying that there aren't many places you can go where a person feels the inclination to include a complete stranger in a conversation. how many times have you gone to a restaurant, a movie, a grocery store, and a complete stranger has leaned over and joked about something with you? we're the only ones of our kind who admit to and accept eavesdropping.

i'll miss you, texas.

this isn't goodbye, texas, this is just "see you later."

leaving.

i might throw up.

i'm moving.
the boxes are being packed, unpacked and repacked.
it's an incredibly complicated process.

on the 21st of july around 9 a.m. central time i will be saying goodbye to the dallas skyline until the month of december. i will be flying out of my beloved dfw on a one-way ticket to a little place i enjoy calling "the district."

there, around 6 p.m. eastern time, i will be greeted by my best friend at a baggage claim where we will claim two large suitcases which will then be routed directly to the metro and onto a comfy apartment in arlington.

yes, i am moving.

you ask, "brianna, you're crazy. you said you were staying."
as any good reporter knows, don't put anything in print unless you know for certain. which is why we thank God for the internet where no ink has to dry and our mistakes can be seen
faster.

staying didn't feel right. dallas didn't feel right. the sun seemed hotter, the asphalt brighter and the air dirtier.

dc just feels right. it felt right in january. and it felt right in july. and it'll feel right until it's time for chicago which also feels right. i'm feeling a lot right now.

i don't have a job. i don't have an internship. i have a small bank account and a couple of credit cards in case of emergency. this is me - leaping. either rocks or waves will be at the end of my jump, here's hoping to waves.
i've applied to a couple of internships that i would love love love to do. of course, only fate can tell me if i am meant to do this. if not, then there will always be something else. i learned to follow my instinct a long time ago and it hasn't let me down yet.
i'm still scared. and sad. and lonely. and excited. and thrilled. and expectant. and second-guessing. it wouldn't be an adventure, it wouldn't be life, without these emotions.

i am strong enough for this. that's one thing i forget. what i've accomplished, overcome and survived. we all need to cut ourselves a little slack.

so here's to hoping for the best. praying for the future. believing in oneself. and having supportive loved ones.

please send thoughts, hopes, prayer, well-wishes or any other amount of positive karma or extra currency my way.

"yesterday, when you were young, everything you needed done was done for you. now you do it on your own but you find you're all alone, what can you do? ...but in the end, the only steps that matter are the ones you take all by yourself." - the weepies

strangers.

oh hello there.
i am currently sitting in the dimness of a basement apartment in dc. the room is quite and cool with only the sounds of passing cars, upstairs footsteps and snoring of the dog with mollie asleep only a few feet away.

well,
this almost didn't happen.
i almost didn't make it to the grand ol' district. but here i am thanks to the kindness of a few strangers and the encouragement of good friends. while it looked like i might not have a place to stay on my trip - it all worked out when a call was placed and i found myself the temporary tenant of an apartment with two strangers. oh yes, strangers. i love strangers. there's nothing better than strangers. sometimes, strangers are better than friends and they are usually much better than acquaintances.

anywho,
late wednesday night i proceeded to drag my luggage out of the pouring rain and onto a waiting bus and then a few blocks to where a warm bed waited. yes, a bed. a perfect stranger gave up his bed for me (southern gentlemen do still exist, though in higher demand in the east coast).

if there is one thing i have learned- it's the trips that have flaws and complications that usually end up to be the most memorable. it's the trips were everything works out that i tend to question.

there's too much to write about what i've learned in dc. in short: friends can always be family, crying together is almost as good as laughing together, direct honesty is the best policy and taking a jump/leap of blind faith can always end well because at least you will have learned something about yourself.

we went to a church on sunday titled "national community church" (apparently it's kinda a big thing) and while reading my copy of "a thousand splendid suns" i came across their bulletin i've been using as a bookmark.

listed on the back of the bulletin are their "core values." usually this list includes words such as trinity, holy spirit, community or son of God. this list tends to deviate from the norm (as the church does - which is why i liked it). three of these sentences grabbed my attention. they are as follows:

1. expect the unexpected (obviously).
2. playing it safe is risky (advice i should take to heart concerning relationships).
3. everything is an experiment.

at times our heart knows more than our head can even process. and while the heart may be the hardest advisor to heed, it can also be the most correct.

now, if you'll excuse me i believe i have a date involving chinese food and a man named lincoln.

(p.s. "a thousand splendid suns" is another one of hosseini's great works. it'll make you cry, grimace and smile).

a ship in harbor is safe - but that is not what ships are for.
- john a. shedd