career
Careers in the industry; from corporate to middle management, food service, media, political figures, and beyond. All workplace careers.
Passion
"One day I'm going to become an author." That's what I used to tell everyone when I was going through the fourth grade. The big plan. Well, write a bunch of really cool books and be the next J. K. Rowling or Anne Rice or something. This dream stuck with me all my years, and as time passed it became every more desirable.
By Melinda Dawson7 years ago in Journal
Becoming Your Own Boss from the Comfort of Your Studio Apartment
For as long as I could remember, I loved mentoring and tutoring people. It didn’t matter to me what age group they belonged to, what socio-economic class they came from, or how much they were willing to pay me per hour.
By Paulina Pachel7 years ago in Journal
Post-Grad Depression and Social Media: Let's Talk About It
Graduate life is a bit of a free-fall. Most of our lives are thoroughly structured through education up until the point we get put in those robes and the camera flash goes off. Of course, there will be a few of us who managed to secure graduate jobs prior to being unleashed into the wild; however that can't be the case for all of us, and it certainly wasn't the case for me.
By Letitia Payne7 years ago in Journal
What Happens When the Bottom Drops Out?
In 2001, I went back to school to be a paralegal. I won’t bore you about how old I was then, but I had had Latin in high school around the time of the dinosaurs so I was one-up on the other students. Actually, I was two-up; most of them were fresh out of high school and still floundering. The school was interesting, to say the least. My teacher, a recently disbarred attorney (whose idea was that?), kept telling the others they could go on and be an attorney, but not me; she said that I was too old for that.
By Carol Tietsworth7 years ago in Journal
The Untold Truth of a Wattpad Writer
When your head is filled with many crazy stories full of castles, dragons, the end of the world etc., it gets extremely hard to hold it in and have no way of letting it spill out. This is how I felt for a big portion of my life. As my creativity began to expand and grow as I got older, the capacity I had in my brain became smaller. My math equations became formulas for a love potion. My knowledge on the early American settlers became the history of the early magical kings. The mental image I had of the table of elements became a collection of elemental staffs in the hall of mages. I wanted so badly to be able to create a story out of my thoughts, but I had no way of doing it until I found my outlet.
By Savannah Buckner7 years ago in Journal
Worst Résumé Mistakes You've Probably Made
Job hunting sucks. No matter how qualified you are, it can feel like an endless slew of rejections. I find one of the best ways to combat this feeling of dejection is to constantly be reworking your résumé in order to make it as close to perfect as it can be. If you are noticing signs your résumé isn't working, here are some of easily avoidable, yet common résumé mistakes. Take the extra time to read through and make sure there are no mistakes on your résumé before you send it out to potential employers.
By Joseph D. N. Kendrick7 years ago in Journal
When I Pick Up the Brush
When I pick up the brush I may have a tree or a sea monster in mind; or I might have a photo on my phone, which I need to keep tapping with my left hand in order not to have to put down the brush again and put my right thumb on that little white dish that somehow knows more about the ball of my right thumb than me; or I may have nothing in my little head other than the need to scream with colors, it being too late at night to scream the conventional way unless I join a bacchanal going on somewhere but that is not really my thing; in any case, when I pick up the brush I generally dip it in water first, always in a shapely glass jar that makes my heart happy when I look at it, and then I remember that I should probably get some toilet paper to blot away extra water, well, sometimes I have toilet paper left from last time—painting, not going to the bathroom—that looks artsier than the attempts at art that I have taped to the wall in front of me and which I use again instead of new toilet paper because toilet paper costs money and I don't have much of that; after I dip the brush in the water I take a deep breath and reach for a color—usually the deeper blue color or the faded green one, I don't know what they're called—and take a stroke or a shake or a bop at the paper, which I sometimes have covered with water beforehand to make a cool effect that I assume also has a name that I don't know; well anyways when the first drops of paint hit the paper I think, I should drop out of college and do nothing but watercolors for the rest of my life, and I want to make something elaborate and cool so I take another deep breath and make another mark on the paper that completely ruins the great art that I created seconds ago by accident: it was the wrong color, it fell outside the line that I meant to be the edge of the face, AND the pigment was too strong; maybe I should not quit school, I say to myself—quietly, because my housemates are asleep and they wake up when I turn on the faucet even just a tiny little bit in the kitchen—and then I say, but I should also not quit painting, and I swish the brush in the jar for three seconds so as to be rid of the offending color for now as I try to figure out how to fix what is wrong, but I can't really figure it out so I pick up another brush and another color and take my chances; when I pick up the brush this time I am chewing my lip and knitting my brows because that's the face you make when you're concentrating really hard and want everyone to know, except my dramatic performance has an audience of just four, two owls and two succulents, and they are all mildly challenged in the area of knowing, whatever the Egyptians do say about owls; the third color mixes with the second and first colors and it looks pretty cool for whatever reason, but now it's nothing like a face, just a bunch of splotches, which is fine, it is kind of autobiographical, it resembles the journey of my own face—heh—maybe I can be a great artist after all; I hang the completed scream on the wall by my other great works of art when it's dry so I can marvel at my genius in the morning and in the evening despair at the fact that I will never achieve greatness by picking up that brush.
By Shiori Zinnen7 years ago in Journal
10 Things You Need to Know Before Becoming a Makeup Artist
YouTube beauty gurus seem to have taken over all social media platforms, inspiring their millions of followers to become makeup artist themselves. But, what they don't tell you is the struggles of a true freelance makeup artist, trying to make their mark in the industry WITHOUT YouTube. Here are some things I wish I knew before becoming a professional makeup artist.
By Grace Badarak7 years ago in Journal
My Journey as an Actor
Back when I was nine, I lived with my dad for a year in Michigan and to be honest, I hated it. I barely got time with my dad, one of my cousins used to beat me up, the kids were assholes, going to school there even sucked, and I was even getting in trouble for stuff that didn't have anything to do with me but if there was something that found me to keep me from losing my mind entirely, it was movies and cartoons.
By Don Anderson II7 years ago in Journal
