I am extremely pleased to announce that in the past seven days, I have not only acquired a vocation (as in . . . gainful employment), but I have finally settled on my pro-wrestling name.
Both achievements required a lot of skill and took a lot, lot more time than I would have liked. A college educated person such as myself should have gotten a wrestling name years ago:
Announcer: AAAAANND in this corner, weighing a number of pounds and hailing from the green, green valleys of the beaver state--The Edi-TOR!
Cecily/The Editor: GGGGGRRRRRRRRRRR!!
You see, I left my university with a degree in English. If you have ever been or ever plan on being an English major, you have probably encountered several conversations that go like this:
Non-English Major: So, you presume to be an English major, do you not?
English Major: [rolls eyes] Yes.
Non-English Major: Well, since I believe that field of study to be completely useless, vocationally speaking, I will assume therefore that you desire the profession of teaching.
English Major: [grinds teeth] No. If I wanted to be a teacher, I'd be an English teaching major. They're separate.
Non-English Major: [adjusts monocle] Well then, do you plan on living on the streets?
English Major: Actually, I'm using my major to prepare me for being a screenwriter/author/editor/copy writer/copy editor/journalist/publisher/grad or law student/well-educated person/etc.
Non-English Major: Ah.
Generally, when people asked me what I planned in doing/what I could ever possibly do with my major, I would pick option E, copy editor. This was my short-term, super-sensible option. On other occasions, I would tell them about my long-term/almost impossible option, which would be option B, author. When I left college, I planned on pursuing both--finishing my novel (HA!) while trying to find an editing job. Unfortunately, for my circumstances, there were no editing jobs to be found. Sad day for Cecily Jane.
Fast forward to an unspecified number of months later (I'm not embarrassed to tell you my age , but I will barely admit the time I spent unemployed to myself), and I found out that my uncle, who is one of the best wedding videographers in the country, wanted to hire me as . . . ta DA! an editor. But not the kind of editor that tell you that you can't form my previous sentence the way I just formed it--a video editor. Essentially, he shoots the weddings, loads the video on a hard drive, and mails the hard drive to me. I, in turn, edit the video and send it back to him. It's a pretty sweet gig, if I say so myself. I knew practically nothing about video editing when I got the job, so for the past week I've been staying with my uncle in California learning the art of wedding films. I'll be here until the end of the month, then will be turned loose just in time for PetiteS
So finally, after years of rudely correcting the grammar of people I despise, I have become an actual, bona fide, paid editor. It's a horse of a different color, but it's a horse, and I have decided that this makes me victorious.
Now I just have to figure out how to get that championship belt.
Regards, best wishes, and gainful employment,