Getting Hostel

I'll admit it. I was apprehensive about staying in an unfamiliar city in a shared room with a bunch of strangers. When we booked our stay in Nashville, I immediately had a twinge of regret for even suggesting the idea of a hostel. As a kid, I loved "roughing it" every summer for our annual camping trip (even if "roughing it" meant an air mattress and campsite with running water). As I got older, though, I preferred the hotel experience - a cozy bed, warm spot by the pool, and tiled showers. So, the idea of sleeping in bunk beds and having to wear shoes in the shower as an adult wasn't something I had seriously considered.

But here I was.

We arrived right at 3:00 PM on Friday - check in time. We wanted to be the first ones there to stake claim on the best beds... whatever that meant. A nice woman in her early-20s with thick-rimmed glasses greeted us at the front desk. I glanced over her shoulder at the industrial sized washers and dryers as sheets and towels were tossed around in the rinse cycle. I wondered how well those washers worked. As she looked up our reservation information, I took a better look around the common space. Complete with mini fridges, worn leather couches, and a well-loved pool table, it appeared to be a decent hang out spot, but I doubted two nights would be long enough to fit in any time to hang out around here.

We were given our room keys and a brief tour, then shown to the elevator. As the doors opened up, plywood walls covered in sketches and writings revealed themselves inside. Notes left behind by travelers from all over the world.

We made our way to our room and made a fast friend in the one other occupant there. Her name was Ise, a singer from Australia with a curly bun toppled on her head. She had just arrived in town the night before and had already been invited to join  a band on stage for a gig down the road. I listened to her solo travel stories in amazement, wishing I had a story to tell.

That evening, my friend and I attended wedding festivities (the whole reason we were in town) and arrived back at the hostel late at night. Standing outside the door were two Americans, both with a passion for composing lyrics. One carried a composition book with hand-written songs scribbled across wrinkled pages. After some peer-pressure, he shared his songs in the form of poetry. The other rapped a story about his life and upbringing. Another Australian joined our odd group to share his thoughts on the rhymes. And shortly after, an English woman stumbled outside and interrupted to ask for a lighter. She was barefoot and had six toes.

The next night was a similar story. We returned back to the hostel and joined a group of strangers from all parts of the world for a game of pool. We joked about accents and how to pronounce "Arkansas." The Australians thought it was pronounced like "Kansas." We laughed and talked as if we had known each other for years. There were no strangers in the room. Then, we just went our separate ways.

Maybe we got lucky with this particular hostel. Maybe not all hostels are as warm and inviting (and clean). But, if they are, I urge you to give them a chance. In just two nights, I met so many fascinating people who are pursuing their dreams of travel and music. I also met "ordinary" people like me, who just decided to try something new. I walked away inspired and feeling like the world was just a little bit smaller with a few new familiar faces. I will never regret the decision to save a few bucks, because the experience repaid us ten-fold.

If you want to check out Ise's music, click here: http://iseula.com/

5 Career Lessons from a Former Waitress

I spent the year following graduation in a situation that wasn't unfamiliar to many of my peers - unemployed, with no prospects in the field that my rigourous schooling was supposed to have prepared me for. Being the busy-body that I am, I refused to remain dormant. I began applying at local restaurants and immediately landed a job serving tables. At the time, it felt like I was giving up on my dreams. However, my parents instilled in me that no one is too good for any job. With that in mind, I became a waitress for the next 11 months. I learned invaluable lessons at this stage of life, and I strongly recommend that everyone works in the customer service industry at least once. If that ship has already sailed for you, I'll give you the spark notes of a few lessons I picked up on here:

1. Your job is what you make of it. Serving tables wasn't exactly what I had in mind for my first job out of college. In life, you have the choice to beat yourself up over your situation, or embrace it. I could've taken the job for what it is at surface level: taking orders and running food. Instead, I considered serving the perfect opportunity to develop my real-world communication skills. I became more confident in interacting with strangers as well as the art of establishing a common interest within moments of meeting. In most work-related scenarios, you can develop a skill set that will propel you in the right direction.

2. Constantly network. The opportunity often presented itself to engage in small-talk with tables. It seemed beneficial to mention my educational background in journalism. This often led to, "well I work at a local newspaper, send me an email" or "I know someone in that field. I'll put you in touch." There was absolutely no shame in collecting those business cards in my receipt book. Engage with as many people as you can. If you're likable, people will want to help you.

3. Be likable. Seems simple enough, right? The question is, what makes a person likable? I found that my tips were better the more I smiled, asked the customer about themselves, or told them how cute their kids are (even if they were reaping havoc in the booth). The key is to be genuine. I once complimented a woman's cheetah print cardigan. She returned to the restaurant weeks later just to give me a cheetah print scarf because it "reminded her of me." Small gestures of kindness leave lasting impressions.

4. Teamwork makes the dream work. I don't know the origin of this phrase, but my manager, Jack, would always say it. As cheesy as it sounds, it's true. I often worked behind the bar alongside one to two other bartenders. We "shared" tables and customers. Therefore, we were all responsible for each other's success each night. Some nights we succeeded, and some nights we sucked. Regardless, we reaped the cash rewards of a successful night or reflected on what went wrong for a messy shift. We learned each other's strengths and weaknesses, and in turn, learned how to work more effectively together.

5. Be humble. There were countless times that I felt as though I was being treated unfairly by customers with a superiority complex. I was made to feel like I was failing at what some may consider a simple job. In these moments, I wanted so badly to slam my degree on the table and shout, "I am intelligent and I'm doing the best I can!" As nice as that scenario was to imagine, I found it to be most effective to remain calm and humble. Does that mean the customer is always right? Definitely not. But it was my duty to make sure they left satisfied. Keeping your cool is key. As my mom always said, "you catch more flies with honey than vinegar." Never forget the bigger picture. When things get tough, often times you need to put your pride aside and keep chugging along.


If you have never served tables, take it from someone who has been there. It's not easy. But, it's undoubtedly one of the best ways to quickly develop person-to-person experience in a work environment. You will learn more about your own strengths and weaknesses. And, best of all, you will meet some of the kindest folks ever. From the couple that loved to talk about their son serving overseas, to the little boy who brought me a dandelion to work on Valentine's Day. I don't regret one moment spent in those non-slip shoes.


Working behind the bar at Macaroni Grill

Don't Ask Me That

There is always that one topic that you really hope no one asks you about.

Just a simple question that could ruin your time at a family function, party, dinner, or any event... really. It's different for everyone. It could be, "So why don't you have a boyfriend, honey?" Or, "Do you really plan on getting anywhere with that running sport of yours?"

Nowadays, that dreaded question for me is, "So, what's next?"

Why do I hate this question so much? Well, like many 20-somethings, I don't have an answer to that question. I guess you can say I'm going through one of those "quarter-life crises," in which I simply have no clue what direction I want to take my life. And, with Internet these days, it seems like everyone knows what I should be doing EXCEPT for me. 

Articles like, "20 Things 20-Year-Old's Don't Get" seem to flood my Facebook newsfeed by friends who are in a similar rut. While I appreciate any advice I can get from someone who has "been there," it still comes across slightly discouraging.  

Take the Forbes article, for example. One of the points says, "Social media is not a career." Well, there goes my five-year plan. 

Other articles recommend just enjoying the ride that is life. Travel, they say. See the world. You're young. There is nothing to tie you down. Just, go...GO!

My question is... With what money? Unless I plan on packing a month's worth of PB&J's (using my mom's bread, of course) and sleeping on streets, I don't think I will be taking a Euro-trip any time soon.

While it may not seem like it now, I am actually very optimistic about my future. I have big dreams and all of the support I need standing behind me. Being in transition, though, and not having much to show for those future dreams (besides a diploma) is the tough part. 

At times like these, I think the thing that most 20-something's need to do is slow down. Take life one application at a time. One suggestion (from those who have "been there") at a time. Or if you are lucky enough to be able to travel, one city at a time. As for me, tomorrow is just another day pursuing a dream with my feet planted firmly right here in Georgia (for now).

Miles and Mustard Seeds

For the past nine years, if anyone asked me what I was passionate about, I would reply "running" without even batting an eyelash. And it's true. Running was my life. It consumed my high school days with countless hours spent on the rubberized track in the unforgiving Georgia sun. Cross-country is certainly not a sport for the weak at heart. It challenges not only your body but also your mind. I sometimes questioned why I chose to put myself through so much agony for a sport, but it all made sense to me as I grew older.

Senior year track at UGA

Running is in my blood.

The soreness, the blisters, the injuries; it was all made worthwhile with the companionship, the competition, and any slight improvement that came along the way. As a member of the cross-country team at the University of West Georgia and eventually the University of Georgia, I made lifetime friends and memories. However, running also caused me great pain. Injuries and anemia plagued my final seasons with the bulldogs, and, at the time, it seemed like the end of my world. Competing was everything to me, and being told that I couldn't participate in what I loved for a period of time was devastating.  However, something my great-grandmother told me as a child always seemed to get me through. Referencing Matthew 17:20, she would tell me, "If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you can do anything."

I would think, "A mustard seed? Really? That's all it takes?" Well, it's a lot harder than it seems.

Courtney and me

Now, as a recent graduate of UGA, I'm relying more than ever on that mustard seed. Running has taken a back seat to the search for a career in journalism. I never really considered myself a "writer" (I was a just a "runner" that happened to write), but I know that writing is also in my blood. My older sister, Courtney, has always been my role model, especially when it comes to journalism. I'm not sure if she's annoyed or flattered by the fact that I'm chasing a similar dream of a journalism career. I like to think she takes it as a compliment. Now that I am at this crossroads in my life that comes with graduating, I'm looking not only to the guidance of others, but to that mustard seed that carried me through the ups and downs of my athletic career. Although I'd like to jump into my dream job right away (or at least have the stability of any job), running has taught me that success only comes with hard work. So until that dream job comes along, I'm just going to take it one day at a time and enjoy the journey.