Ok, I KNOW I already posted today. I promise I’m not just obsessed with logging my thoughts in cyber space–I can’t sleep. So in the spirit of turning my suffering into something positive, I’ve compiled a list of ways to entertain oneself whilst trying to doze off, no sheep required:

1. Google yourself. Sure, it SOUNDS self-centered, (probably because it is…a little), but it also serves a very practical purpose: You should know what the Internet says about you before your future employer does. To guarantee that you’re still hire-able, it’s a good idea to check it out now and then.

2. Twitter’s “Everyone” feature. Ok, I was originally a critic of Twitter and tweeting and whatnot, but I have to admit, it’s kind of cool to be a part of something much bigger than yourself. Even if you’re just creeping on people’s 160-character posts from around the world at 2 in the morning. If you find anyone especially funny, you can follow them for ’round the clock entertainment. (Incidentally, you can follow me at https://twitter.com/justinelorelle.)

3. Write it out. Usually the reason why I can’t sleep is because I have a million thoughts bouncing around in my head. (And sometimes it’s because I drink a bowl of coffee a couple hours before bed. Get off my back.) The only way I can get my brain to shut up is either by making extensive lists of all the things I need to do or by writing a letter to whomever I can’t stop “conversing” with mentally. (Not crazy, I swear.) Letters you never send can be incredibly therapeutic.

I don’t know why I keep making lists of three….great. Yet another thought to keep me up…

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I’m not a big crier. I swear. I mean sure, I get choked up when a little kid starts talking about miracles or their older brother or how much they love their kitten, and I wept like someone had killed MY boyfriend at the end of West Side Story. But who didn’t? (Besides robots. Because you would have to be INHUMAN not to cry at the end of that movie.)

But despite my will of steel, I always find myself practically hysterical when I get frustrated or supremely disappointed. Which happened today. In public. And even though I ran away from the problem and drove the twenty minutes home, I was STILL sobbing, which led to making my emotion-phobe roommate incredibly uncomfortable. (Although she hid it well for my benefit. Gotta love her.)

The point is, I hate people seeing me cry. I am NOT a pretty crier. You know what I mean: I’m one of those mascara-running, snot-dribbling types. Plus, I work pretty hard on this invincible exterior, and I don’t like having the illusion spoiled by sniffly tears. So I googled ways to keep yourself from crying. Here’s what I found, in order of helpful-ness:

Least helpful: Calm down by taking slow, deep breaths.

Oh really? Oh, I should probably just get it together then, huh? Thanks for that world-rocking advice. Thanks a lot.

Maybe helpful: Shift your jaw forward and press your tongue to the roof of your mouth.

The theory is that by making a face not compatibly with crying, you will confuse yourself enough to hold off the waterworks. Sounds plausible, but with my luck I’ll just end up an uglier crier.

Most likely to be helpful: Anticipate situations where you might cry and visualize yourself dealing with them.

Practice makes perfect, right? Usually I cry when expected to explain myself (yeah, SO helpful), so it makes sense that mentally preparing would help me keep it together.

Eventually, though, everyone needs to have a good cry now and then. I’d just prefer to have mine while in my pajamas with the Jets and the Sharks.

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You know what ISN’T good right now? The job market. And is it just me, or does it seem like the media is getting hit especially hard right now? I mean, I get it. Magazines are a luxury that people are likely to forgo in times of need. On the other hand, magazines–especially luxury publications–are a perfect form of escape. Unless, I suppose, you DON’T enjoy lusting after pricey designer handbags after reading the email about your revoked Christmas bonus. To each her own.

The catalyst for this musing comes in the form of a series of layoffs that occurred at the publishing house I work for. I mean, the woman who HIRED me was laid off. I don’t think I’m in any danger–the lowly intern salary is hardly the one breaking the bank–but it’s still a little surreal when the negative effects you read about on Gawker hit home. Especially when you were planning on starting your career in six months.

Anyway, in an attempt to scrounge up extra cash until then (in the hopes of warding off starvation, eviction, etc.), I’ve been applying to write blogs for various companies/publications. So far I’ve applied to two: Barnes & Noble and a men’s blog. I’ll keep you updated. (You’re on the edge of your seat, I can tell.)

I’m officially giving up on the idea that I’m original. Every time I hang out with someone new, they invariably turn to our mutual friend and say, “Doesn’t she remind you of Janet?” or “Isn’t she just like Allison?”

To be fair, I’m fairly average in most ways. Average height, average size, brown hair, etc., etc. But I still liked to fancy myself as SOME sort of stand-out. As is, I guess I just have to be happy that most people are comparing me to someone they like.

This was all too true last night, when I met my best friend Annie’s new boyfriend. We’d been hanging out for an hour or so when he just couldn’t contain himself. “She looks so much like _____!” I, of course, was unsurprised that I reminded him of someone, but to her credit, Annie gave him a look until he backed down. “Ok, she’s better looking than her, but still!” As he insisted and Annie kept discretely shaking her head to me, I tried to overlook the fact that he was essentially telling me I’d “been done before.”

If not less attractively.

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Tomorrow is my consultation appointment for getting my wisdom teeth out. Apparently important things will discussed including the following:

1. Do I want to have general anesthesia or be knocked out completely? (Um, duh. Knock me the hell out.)

2. When would I like to have my face operated on? (Never is not an option.)

3. …? (I actually have no idea what else will be discussed.

I keep reminding myself that I have a bunch of friends and family who have survived oral surgery without anything horrible happening to them. So I should be fine. I will be fine. I just need to keep saying it.

To anyone wondering what a good post-op gift would be, think mango sorbet. Any advice out there for a girl about to put her gums under the knife?

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Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve, meaning I’ll have officially survived another year. 2008 has been a big one for me, so I decided to write up a little summary for posterity. Here’s where I’m at as I ring in the new year:

Age: 21

Location: Midwest…still.

Status: Single, but for the first time with hopeful prospects.

Occupation: Magazine intern for custom publications (Publix grocery stores, Century 21)

Favorite food: Caterpillar Roll

Music I like right now: The Ting Tings, Cobra Starship, Beyonce AND Britney’s new albums, Taylor Swift, Kings of Leon (to name a few)

TV shows I watch: The Office, The Hills, The City (don’t judge me), What Not To Wear, Biggest Loser

Favorite colors: yellow and green

Book I’m reading: I just finished Into the Woods, and now I’m staring reluctantly at a copy of Twilight Susan gave me. The horror…

Favorite magazine: GQ, Details, New York Mag, Wired, Glamour

Goals for next year: Graduate, move to New York, get a job at Conde Nast, and, if there’s time, find a nice boy. But no pressure.

Overall opinion of my life: I like who I am, and I like where I’m going. I’m very happy.