I have always considered myself to be fairly athletic. A dedicated sports nut, whether it be watching or playing, I have embraced all that sports have had to offer for as long as I can remember.
Soccer, basketball and lacrosse were my main focuses, with bouts in fast pitch softball, volleyball, track and field and even golf; the latter of which has been my enemy since those summers in the junior golf league at Oak Glenn in sixth and seventh grade.
Lately I have found myself becoming more educated on the appeals of online and social media. At the age of 24, there really was little time that the world wide web was not a presence in my life.
We took classes beginning in 6th grade to improve our typing and even created our own webpages that same year. None of this of course compares to the iPad phenomenon that is now replacing books in schools or the fact that kids are more familiar with technology in many cases than even I am — my nephew recently taught me how to play 'Cut the Rope'...he's four.
If you're like me, the title of this blog post alone has you annoyed — and me straining not to itch. It's true, after a visit home to the Twin Cities I have developed the unthinkable, the unfathomable and most of all the unwelcome mosquito bites.
Now normally I am not one to complain. Living in Minnesota where the unofficial state bird is widely known to be the pesky little blood suckers I have realized that there is very little you can do about them and one way or another you'll eventually end up with itchy red bumps covering your legs but it's March!
What is it about some songs that just make you smile? The weather outside could be raining — or even worse snowing — and your tire could have just blown on your way to work where you are already running 10 minutes late and then out of the radio speakers comes a song that just makes it seem like it can be alright.
For three to five minutes it’s like there is a peaceful escape on a still very real level, with lyrics singing as though they were meant just for you on that exact moment — “Don’t worry, be happy.”
Being an avid Minnesota sports fan, I'll admit I'm used to defeat. The Vikings, Gophers, Wild, Timberwolves and Twins tend to end their seasons in similar fashion year after year, never quite reaching the epitome of sports stardom with a victory dance as championship title holders and leave me hanging my head and stomping my jersey every time.
Oh, February. A month that brings so many things; Valentine's Day, Punxsutawney Phil (and the hope of a shortened winter) and the influx of uniformed girl's at every office, grocery store and family gathering with brightly colored boxes of sweets. Yes, February also brings the dreaded and delightful Girl Scout cookie time.
One of my favorite things about writing a story is the preparation that goes in to it. As I learned early on from a mentor at one of my previous internships, "failure to prepare, is preparing to fail", so naturally they have been words I've lived by in my own journalistic handbook.
It's been five years and 10 internships in the making, but I have finally made it; I am officially a journalist.
A 2010 graduate from Iowa State University, I was offered an internship with USA Hockey Magazine immediately after graduation. Boom, just like that. Which--luckily enough for me based on impeccable timing--was what I had known throughout most of my college career. I would apply for one internship, get it, and that was that. No fuss, no muss.