part 1: the first date chronicles - dylan

Photo c/o Clarissa Toll

Preface: This is an actual event that took place my junior year of college. I decided to write it as a third person narrative to challenge my story telling abilities and to make an awkward/hilarious encounter more relatable. Life is funny and it's worth telling the stories it hands you. So, without further ado...

She sat on the third floor of the library killing time during her three hour break between classes. She had cozied herself into an original to the building, salmon pink faded lounge chair by the window. Homework was well avoided during these breaks, and she quietly chuckled often while her nose was stuck in a favorite book and her fingers thumbed through its pages.

"Excuse me?" She looked up. A tall and lanky, pea-coat wearing boy around her age was motioning to the chair across from her. "Is anyone sitting here?" he asked. 

She smiled, uttered a quick "No, go ahead." and went back to her book as he sat down and pulled out his laptop. 

Her chuckling continued and she shared many a "i'm-sorry-if-this-is-distracting-but-you-chose-to-sit-here" smiling glances in his direction. With knowing eyes, his smirks told her it was fine and that his seat choice pleased him.

They went on like this for some time. Her chucking into her book and him smirking at the keys of his laptop. Finally, he broke the silence.

"What book are you reading?" he asked. She told him what it was, who wrote it and how it masterfully combined the heart wrenching with the comical facets of life. Interested, he wrote down it's title and author. Seemingly, he was fascinated with the idea of this book and the girl who had described it to him.

"I thought it was something you were reading for school with the way you were highlighting," he said as his eyes darted to the almost bone-dry yellow highlighter in her hand. She then had to explain her quirk of highlighting other's words; she loved them and those written in books weren't meant to be forgotten. Her explanation seemed to please him, he smiled and said "Your laughter told me otherwise, though."

They chatted a little while longer. What's your major, what year are you, do you often have a break this long, do you sit in the library often -- they rambled through the list of questions acquainted college strangers converse with and then it was time for the boy to stop avoiding life and head back to class.

He packed up his laptop and stood to leave, but hesitated slightly. It was like bravery rocked him back on his feet and said "If i'm going to read this book, I'm going to need some one to talk to about it. Can I have your number?"

She chuckled the nervous laughter that seems to come over all women who realize they are, in fact, being hit on and its no longer just a part of their imagination that they can down play. Thinking the boy clever with his tactics, it was hard not to give him a fair chance.

As she rattled off the digits, she realized neither of them knew the other's name. College students have this horrible talent of skipping over the basics and jumping right to the details. "My name is Clarissa, by the way."

"And what's your's?" she continued. "I'm Dylan Robert Higgins. My mom named me after Bob Dylan." he chuckled. Deadpan he followed up with, "But my customers all know me as 'Dyla The Microphone Killa.'"

Sensing her utter confusion, he then launched into a five minute explanation as to why he as an Apple Bee's server gets very bored and offers to rap for his tables. After the short anecdote he reflected "many of them don't seem to like it much..."

He had an unconventional sense of character and she liked it. She could use a dose of silly in her serious, well organized life.

As they said their goodbyes, she hoped he'd call. Well text, at least, because college students typically avoid phone calls like the plague (in effect, to a college student, a phone call is equal to committing to meet your family and the possibility of marriage all at the touch of the green button).

Or even better, perhaps they'd make a habit of running into each other in the library.

As he headed off towards the elevators, her carpool mates came off the lift.

"Do I have a story for you!" she said as they came close. Adrenalin was the sole reason her blood pumped in those moments as she recanted the encounter.

They'd squeal and giggle about the chance meeting all the way home. And as girls do, they'd dream about how "perfect" this was and would be. 

you are here

Photo c/o Michelle Bongirno 

They say:

"After further consideration, we have decided to pursue other candidates for this opportunity."

"Your qualifications were reviewed and while impressive, were not  a suitable match for this position."

Or, my personal favorite (heavy sarcasm, here), nothing. 

The list of noes has grown quite long on my end of things. Basically, I'm at the corner of Never Getting Another Interview Again and Job Applications Are The Worst. 

For the sake of transparency and at the risk of sounding dramatic, I write this. For myself mostly, but for the possibility of someone else too. I made a promise early on in my career-hunt that I would be honest about this process for those who are following after -- those soon-to-be career-hunters. The world has told a lot of fake-it-till-you-make-it stories and has neglected to get real about how mucky and rough this season can be. The trenches of in-between college and a career can feel lonely and beyond frustrating. I don't want to be another rose-colored, everything was fine type story. I want the it's-dark-here-but-I'm-holding-out-for-hope type stories, because really, if we get strikingly honest, that's all the stories of every chapter of our honest-to-goodness lives. No filters to hide the uncomfortable or squares to crop out the less-lovely; just the reality and truth remain. 

Last week, I was scrolling through social media. I saw that a friend of mine, same age and recent college graduate, was a speaker at a conference. My first thought: "and I'm just here." Just at a regular job that doesn't require my degree or special skills. Just getting denied applications. Just bored out of my mind. Just wanting more. 

After I pitched my tent for a short while in pity-ville and had a small pity-party of one, I got real honest about my "just." Well the Lord did, actually. 

I was looking at my life as the kind of just -- barely, by a little -- and desiring more of what the world would define as success. My idea of more had gotten quite empty. 

As I clung to this idea of just (the little kind), I was basically saying F-you to all the opportunities I have currently. In other words, I was claiming they weren't enough for me. 

How stupid, right? Who was I to claim they weren't enough? 

I have always had a hard time being in the moment. My goals and minute by minute living (at times) can be consumed with what's coming -- the what's next portion. As a child, my favorite questions were "What are we doing?" "Where are we going?" and "Because why?" They haven't much changed, if I'm being honest. I like being in the know, I like preparing and knowing whats coming. And I really, really like knowing the why to everything. In this season, especially, I have been struggling to be content in the right here and right now with most my questions still hanging in the unanswered category. 

I have to make a conscious effort to set my heart and my mind in the moment, every moment. To set it any where else, I become discontent. Which is only selfishness, because I have NO reason to be discontent -- whether or not I have a plan or the answers to my questions. 

I am blessed to have the opportunity to hold a job for the moment in a place in which I get paid to read books to children and hear them say "wead anotha book! wead anotha book!" a million times over. Where else would I get to add voices to the bears, lions, horses, and elephants and be silly for the sake of growing souls? My degree certainly doesn't house many of these opportunities, if any at all. 

To consider these moments "just" anything is ignorance at best. Sure roaring like a lion, picking up legos or wiping boogers were not what I expected to be doing after college, but gracious. I swear, glory exudes when a child laughs. Its a laugh that brings me back, back to contentment -- back to not seeing the "just." 

I know, in a way, I've said this all before in previous blog posts or in Instagram captions. But, these feelings and this season remind me how easily we, as human beings, forget to remember what we know. 

When I landed my current job, I wrote this: Four years ago I never thought that this is where I would be, but you know what? I'm so damn grateful for it. I'm going to glean from this time and I'll be a better praiser of my creator because of it... Where ever you are, lay down those lies you've accepted as truth from the world and find ownership and glory in the space you find yourself in. It's all so very worth it.

In the day in and day out it is so easy to lose sight of the importance of a current moment. If we really were to break it down, the compilation of all these right-now moments are what develop a life. We (I) get so lost in the loftiness of the future that we (I) neglect to glean from what's happening in the now. The future matters, it does, but I don't want mine to consume these days.

I want to be here right now. 

Some days its a harder struggle than others. But, it's a wrestling match worth my participation and the best fight I can muster. 

The applications and the noes are rough. The unknown and the unanswered nature of this season can be frustrating.

But. The yeses are there and the grace still abounds. 

This testament -- these words -- I write are for me (maybe for you, too) on the days when the right now feels heavy and not enough all at the same time, because those days will still come. And though that fact be true, I still push for hope. 

Because I know that I know that I know, I'm supposed to be here -- right now.