The search begins.

For the past several days, I have been inhaling all the information I can get.

I've been looking on blogs, forums, job search sites, twitter...everywhere. And I have learned so much about the industry I am wanting to get into. Twitter has been insanely helpful. You can follow all sorts of useful sources, job engines, professionals in the industry.

I've found these particular websites to be the best:

mediabistro.com

publisherslunch.com

bookjobs.com

mashable.com

ed2010.com

These places are a wealth of information. They are full of blogs and advice. I literally couldn't sleep last night I was so consumed with reading them.

Maybe I'm a naive college student, but I have faith that I will land a great internship this summer and great job after graduation. I can't wait to be immersed into that world of publishing--whether it's book, magazine or anything. Yeah, I'm going to start as a free labor, working slave. I'll be sorting mail, running errands and making copies, but that's where you start.

I can't wait. I can't wait. I can't wait.

I really can see past gradation, finally. I can see myself as a happy working woman.

Some of the options are a bit frightening: HarperCollins and ASME both offer summer internships in New York. How crazy (awesome) would that be?

There also some others that I have set as goals that are local: D Magazine, BenBella Books.

Ay yi yi. I feel like a 6-year-old little girl who is dreaming about when she grows up. The sky is the limit. I can do it.

Journalist?

I've known for a while now that I was not cut out to be a journalist.

I'm not the one who pushes through crowds and steps on toes to get interviews. I don't chase people down. I don't like hurting people's feelings. Death and destruction really aren't my thing. Plus, picturing my future as writing for a court or transportation beat makes me want to throw up.

I like to write the feel good stories. The one about the Halloween festival for kids or the new dance class on campus.

Most importantly, I don't particularly have this intense burning desire to inform the public. That's what all the journalists say, right? They want the public to know all sides of a story so they can make informed opinions and actions.

Last year when I figured this out I thought that the answer was to run around the university catalog and look for a new major...huge mistake. A friend of mine knocked some sense into me and encouraged me that journalism majors don't have to be journalists. So I coasted on that for a while until finally it hit me.

I LOVE BOOKS. Love love love love love.

I love the written word. I love stories. I love grammar. All these things are the makings of a journalist, but it turns out I love BOOKS not the news.

So my newfound dream is to work for a book publishing company. I haven't been excited about my future for quite a while now. And the fervor is back. Hours spent researching the career. Reading everything I can get my hands on.

When I was younger, I wouldn't read anything besides the Babysitter's Club...until the Read-Up program at my private school. I had to read other books to get points and a good grade. So in came Mrs. Piggle Wiggle, Poppy, Number the Stars. This is when I learned to love reading.

I would kill to work in that pre-teen division of publishing. I want every person to love reading. (It keeps you learning long after you're done with school.) And those formative years spent reading the Boxcar Children and Judy Blume are what ignite the passion for reading.

I'm excited again. And it's never felt better.

Lately.

Lately, my recent past has been making a major comeback.

In the past few weeks, it seems everything and everyone I've ever known, for at least the last three years, but am no longer in contact with is showing up. It's kind of freaking me out. I mean, have I come full circle already? Back to the same people and things?

Old friends who I never talk to anymore randomly get a hold of me and want to talk. Or just want to know what's up. Or want to tell me something arbitrary. What's up with that?

Sometimes these instances are fine...even welcomed. Others just bring up feelings I don't feel like confronting.

This year I kind of decided to leave it all behind. There's a completely new personality to Phi Lamb. I live in an apartment. I'm actually classified as a journalism major. New, great things are happening.

But these reappearances are really throwing me for a loop. It just kind of throws me back. It's like the universe is trying to stop me from moving forward with my life. There's no sense in reminiscing; it doesn't do anyone any good. No one wishes for old "crushes" to magically appear. No one wishes for friends who left you in the dust to come knock down your door.

Maybe this is a little emo and a little vague, but this is my own therapeutic way of getting out things. And plus, only like two people read this anyway, right?

Weddings.

I've never been THAT girl.

The girl who's always dreamed of her wedding. Picked out bridesmaid dress colors. Looked at engagement rings. Drooled over wedding dresses and veils. Envisioned the flowers and candles.

But somehow, (and I blame Platinum Weddings on WE) I have become her!

I'm sort of ashamed to say that one of my favorite pastimes at Walmart is flipping through bridal magazines. My mom and I love to look at a page of diamond rings and guess the other's favorite. I looove looking at wedding dresses. I love high fashion in general, but wedding dresses are just so romantic, delicate and personal. They are like prom dresses to the tenth power.

Another reason I've become this way is because EVERYONE is getting married and having babies right now. And I mean EVERYONE. Some way too young, but that's a subject for a different blog. While all these people are getting married, I am attending their weddings...enjoying, critiquing and taking notes.

But why do I blame Platinum Weddings on WE? Because they show every tiny little detail of a $1 million wedding. SO much of it is insane. But it's always gorgeous. Every center piece is decadent. The aisle is lined with rose petals. And the couples are always perfect. (A far cry from Bridezillas, which I can also get sucked into on occasion...eeps)

I don't have a boyfriend. I'm not even dating; but I love picturing that wedding day. All that's missing is that perfect guy. (Don't worry, I will NOT being going off a single girl tangent.) Your wedding day is a day of expressing your style in every aspect. It's interior design and fashion crammed into one. And the result is beautiful.