I realised something really ridiculous about my personality the other night. I was out at a birthday dinner and playing a game I like to call – “I have no idea what I’m going to order for dinner!”

This game normally involves asking anyone in a five metre radius what they’re ordering, then deciding if that’s something I want to eat, taking a look at the specials board and weighing up the pros and cons of each dish, asking if anyone has eaten at this particular restaurant before and if they know what’s good, making a decision, changing that decision, finally deciding on something and telling everyone what I’ll be ordering and then changing it at the very last second to something else.

It can be really stressful and I think I’ve finally realised why – because someone else always ends up ordering a better dish.

I cannot count the number of times I’ve been out for dinner with my boyfriend and been ridiculously jealous of his meal and 50% of the time we go out, he orders lamb cutlets. I’ll be sitting there with my fish and chips/schnitty/BLT and looking longingly at the perfectly crumbed cutlets, which always taste so ridiculously good.

So the other night I did the unthinkable – I ordered cutlets. And you know what? They weren’t that great, and no – it wasn’t because this particular restaurant didn’t know the art of the cutlet. They were good. But they weren’t great.

What I realised is that although I like a bite or two of this particular dish – I didn’t actually want the whole thing. Lamb cutlets come with mash and veggies – I’m a chips and salad girl. What was I thinking?

Then I started focusing on the bigger picture here. There are always times where I look at someone else and envy what they’re doing, the job they have and the cutlets they eat, but when I really stop to think about it – it looks fantastic but it’s just not for me.

As a brand new part-time Sydneysider I started worrying that maybe Sydney was going to have the same “cutlety” effect (too far with this metaphor? Definitely! But I really like the word cutlet so hear me out!)

I’ve always loved Sydney, but before now I’ve never stayed there for more than a day or two at one time. Sydney is exciting, new, crazy and full of things to do – but what if that changes and I realise it’s not for me? What if it’s a city that I love in bite-sized pieces only?

Which leads me to today – after spending a lot of time in Sydders (we’re on a nickname basis now) over the past few weeks I’m happy to report that it’s not the case. But seriously – what’s not to like about a city that has a cupcakery (is that a word?) every few blocks, street musicians busting out crazy tunes and a Top Shop store with (what feels like) 10 levels.

When I got off the train on Tuesday morning at Central with “Where the streets have no name” by U2 playing through my iPod, I genuinely thought I was going to have a Maria Von Trap moment (you know the one – hands out wide, spinning round in circles).

Newcastle will always be my home. Chicago – you come in a close second. But Sydney… I think you and I are going to get along just fine.

Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to count the number of times I said cutlet in this entry. (10)

Oprah Winfrey was once asked a question that left her completely speechless. It was – “What do you know for sure?” I found her list to be pretty incredible, so much so that I’ve created my own list. I’ve decided to add a regular blog topic called – ‘Things I know for sure’ and I’m kicking it off tonight.

Things I know for sure – the Summer edition:

1. My dad will never tuck his ears into the Santa hat.

2. Giverny Lewis makes the best gingerbread houses/cookies and cream cheesecakes/cupcakes/baked goods in the world (and will make a kick-ass sister-in-law!)

3. Bush TV beats normal TV* (especially when there are marshmallows involved!)

4. *Unless you have the box set of the Danish/Swedish TV show called ‘The Bridge’, which actually just trumps everything. I’m a bit of a zombie today after watching the entire first season in two days – I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a Claire-shaped imprint on the couch. Greatest. Show. Ever.

5. The water in blow-up pools will always turn questionably yellow after a few days. Urine yellow. It’s best to just not look down. Ever.

6. Selfies in sunglasses will never get old…

7. …The same goes for glowstick pics.

8. Beach dreadlocks are the best. I just ran my hand through my hair just then and sand fell out. There’s just something about the salt, sand and sea that makes me feel like I belong in the movie Blue Crush (minus the surfing skills and washboard abs).

In case you can’t tell by my absence from blogging, I am absolutely loving every minute of my summer break (I’ve even ticked a few items off my bucket list). It has been pure bliss but I’m glad to say that I’m back from my blogging hiatus and will be making regular entries every few days from now on – I’m sure my biggest fans will be stoked (I’m looking at you, mum and Devki!)

I’ve also decided to stop spamming my Facebook friends every single time a new entry is out, so if you like what you read click on the link to the right to become a follower (or just check back every now and then).

Keep your eye out for one that features this gem over the next few days:

Here’s hoping you and your loved ones had a wonderful Christmas break!

It’s funny how one simple sentence can completely change your day. I went shopping earlier on this week to get a few essentials (nail polish, bath bombs… the usual) and got slightly extremely carried away in the beauty product aisle.  When I approached the checkout 20 minutes later, the girl behind the counter said:

“Woah! Either you’re buying Christmas presents or you really stink.”

I wasn’t buying Christmas presents. Awkward. Yes, I might have been purchasing two types of shower gel, face wash and a loofah but YOLO. So that was the worst sentence I’ve heard this week (I don’t stink, I swear!) but here are five of the best:

“Let’s do it together.”

I’ve been feeling a little bit nervous about my slightly ambitious bucket list (read: I. Am. Freaking. Out). There have been times where I have looked at it and just thought that there is no way I am ever going to be able to get through it all. Then there are other days where I get really excited knowing that over the Christmas break I’ll have plenty of time to tick them off one by one.  I was at a birthday party for my friend Lauren, when I announced to my group of friends how proud I was of my push-up achievements (at the time I could do seven). Seeing as I’ve had the upper body strength of a three-year-old child up until now, I was pretty stoked, but I still felt so far away from being able to do ten. Straight away one of my friends said “Let’s do it together!” So that’s what we did. Four twenty-something girls in the front room of the house doing push-ups together in the middle of a party. It was ridiculously hilarious and at the same time I felt like they were all supporting me the only way they knew how to – by kissing the carpet and pumping some iron.

“And in that moment, I swear we were infinite.”

All I can say about this is stop whatever you’re doing right this very second and hightail it to your closest cinema. The Perks of Being a Wallflower was the best movie I have seen all year and is definitely in my top 10 movies of all time (if you’re wondering, number one is the Shawshank Redemption). I laughed, I got emotional, I felt like dancing – it had everything a good movie should have. It had an incredible soundtrack, which made me feel like I could do anything (Heroes by David Bowie will never be the same!)

“Why would you ever want to leave?”

Ahhh Newcastle. Sure, it’s a city that has its faults (closed down buildings, lack of public transportation, citizens who wear pajama pants to Woolies, primary school kids who take grenades to school just to name a few) but it really is a pretty beautiful place to live. I’ve traveled a fair bit over the past 21 years and seen my fair share of beaches, but I just don’t think anything compares to the one that is two minutes away from my house. Whenever people from out of town or overseas come to visit they always say the same thing – “Why would you ever want to leave?” It really puts things in perspective. I know that I’m going to live in other places and explore new cities but Newcastle will always have a weird, phallic building-shaped place in my heart. I don’t think a video has ever accurately summed “Newie” up more than this. Enjoy.

“You don’t keep secrets. Secrets keep you.”

After years of visiting this website every single Sunday I am FINALLY seeing Post Secret live next year. This is a website that has absolutely changed the way I view the world and other people. We all have secrets and I cannot wait to see what’s unveiled at the show. If you love Post Secret as much as me, then check out the Aus tour deets here.

Top five favourite things this week.

That it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas

Strawberry Margarita nail polish

Mangoes

My mate Zoe

Did I mention that I like cupcakes?

P.S. Check out the Herald’s Weekender magazine this Saturday for an article I wrote about the ladies who work at Alice’s Wonderland costume shop. They were an absolute hoot to interview!

This week I am officially coming to the end of my time as an intern. In the words of Taylor Swift (or as I like to refer to her T-Swifty Swift) I will never, ever, ever, ever, ever forget what it’s like to be an intern. Despite the fact that I’m looking forward to my next adventure, there are a few key things that I will take with me from my work experience. I never thought that working for free would ever be desirable, but I was wrong.

When internships are good, they’re so ridiculously good. So good that you don’t even remember that a paycheck isn’t coming your way after a hard day’s work. You work hard because you love it, because it’s great experience and because you know it’s putting you one step closer to your dream of being paid for it in the future.

But when internships are bad… well… they can be pretty awful. I’ve had experiences with both the good and the bad and I know that in a strange way, both experiences have really helped shape the writer that I am today.

So I’m writing this blog entry as a note to my future self. So that whenever I interact with anyone doing work experience from here on out I will remember to do the following:

Lesson number one – say hello to the intern.

This one might seem ridiculously simple, but it’s so often forgotten. As an intern, you kind of feel a bit out of place, especially when you’re brand spankin’ new in the office. It can be tough being the new kid on the block so it was nice when people took two seconds out of their day to say hello or good morning. Bonus points went to people who asked me how I was going with my studies or what I was getting up to on the weekend. Double bonus points went to those who offered me a piece of cake when it was someone’s birthday. Infinite bonus points to those who invited me over to actually join in on the birthday celebrations like I was a member of the team. It can be tough to build up a working relationship with others when you’re only in the office once or twice a week. There were times where I felt like people were too busy to look me in the eye, and to their credit – there were times when they were exceptionally busy. But in my opinion, no one is ever too busy to look over and smile, heck, I would have settled for a simple nod of recognition.

Lesson number two – say thank you.

Now I’ve been pretty lucky on this one, but some of my friends haven’t. When you’re doing work experience there are countless times each day where you run around helping employees with their daily tasks. Whether it’s photocopying something, transcribing an interview or helping with research I was always thanked for what I had done so I’ve never had to think twice about it. But I’ve heard of horror stories where friends have run around the city passing five coffee shops to get to a specific cafe. They have been asked to get a beverage that is so complex they needed to write down the order on a post-it note just so that they could get it right. When they returned and presented the drink to the staff member, they were grunted at. Not thanked, not looked at in the eye, just greeted with a grunt. And they were the lucky ones – others didn’t even get a grunt! Saying thank you isn’t hard.

Lesson number three – give feedback.

I have learnt more from my internships, than I ever could have from my degree, and that is a cold, hard fact. But that’s due to having some wonderful mentors who have taken the time to correct me when I got it wrong, congratulate me when I got it right and who have supported me during both times. There’s nothing worse than writing an article and seeing it in print only to find out that multiple things have been changed without anyone telling you why. Feedback is key. This is a tough one because lots of people feel uncomfortable giving negative feedback and at the time they probably felt like they were doing me a favour by sparing me the bad news. Feedback good or bad (or preferably good and bad packaged in a neat little compliment sandwich – e.g. compliment, negative fact, compliment) is the way to go.

Lesson number four – realise that an intern probably isn’t just an intern.

There were times throughout this year where I was sure that I was going to drown in a giant swimming pool of things I needed to get done. There was a point where I considered dropping back to part time study so that I could fit everything in, but I didn’t and I think my family and friends were waiting for an epic Claire meltdown. The reason I got through 3 internships, two unpaid work positions, a full time university study load and two part time jobs is that I had support coming from every direction, including the companies I interned at. Before giving me a task to do, they would check that I had time to do it first. It’s important to remember that an intern isn’t just interning one day a week and then watching Ellen and eating pizza every other day (although, let’s be honest – during the university break this was definitely the case).

Lesson number five – offer advice.

Lots of the people that I have worked under started off as an intern or cadet. They were once on the bottom of the food chain just like me, so they knew a thing or two about what I was going through. There were countless tips and pieces of advice that were passed onto me, which really put things in perspective. It’s cool to know that the people you aspire to be were once in your position.

Being an unpaid intern can be really tough – there’s no way of getting around that. But I think the reason it can sometimes suck is because employees who were once just like you, forget what it was like to be you.

So, future Claire. Don’t forget to say good morning to the interns and get your own damn coffee!

When I first started this blog I decided that it would capture this ridiculously crazy/exciting/scary time of my life and the transition from journalism student to journalist. This week has been exactly that. It has been:

Crazy:

I’m stoked to say that as of two days ago, I have officially handed in my last assignment. Number 16 has officially been ticked off my bucket list. Now I bet you’re thinking that must have felt pretty good, right? Well to be honest it did, but not in the way I was expecting.

I finished writing the assignment, did a work count (realised it was 17 words over the minimum limit and fist pumped into the air) and then submitted it. My uni friends were on Facebook talking about how they were crying tears of joy, going out for celebratory beverages and shaking with excitement. I just felt… nothing. I didn’t feel anything at all!

I’ve been thinking about why I felt so strange and I think I’ve finally worked it out – I have picked a profession where there is always, ALWAYS a deadline, so even though I handed in my last assignment, I still have three or four other things to work on for different publications.

After figuring out why I felt so weird, I celebrated like any other normal 21-year-old gal would – by going straight to Woolies and buying sour straps and chocolate mousse (I ate them separately, not together. I just feel like that needed to be clarified.)

Exciting:

I don’t think I could ever stress how much I love writing about interesting people who are doing interesting things. I’m back at my local newspaper at the moment and will be for the next two weeks. Over the past few weeks I have:

- covered Melbourne Cup events

- interviewed the first Australian girl to wear the Playboy bunny suit

- explored old houses for a Domain article

- had fun with two women who run a costume shop

- talked to a woman about the different varieties of cake she sells, and

- chatted to a 9-year-old girl about her Lego figurine

I’ll be uploading each of the articles when they’re published to the ‘Newspaper Articles’ section of my blog for your perusal.

Scary:

On my very first day of University (before I sat in the gutter and cried) my lecturer stood up in the middle of our class and told us that we had picked a competitive profession. He stressed the fact that he didn’t want us coming back to blame him when we couldn’t get a job after graduation, and that even if we did get a job it would be awful hours and really bad pay (awesome lecturer, hey!)

So I guess you could say that I’ve known from day one that getting a job wouldn’t be the easiest thing on Earth. It’s especially hard when people you meet tell you the same thing straight after you let them know what you’re studying.

At this stage I don’t have a job, and that is kind of scary, especially now that I don’t have uni to occupy my days. But I did have a job interview recently with a national magazine in Sydney and I left feeling really confident. Even if I don’t get the job, it still feels good to know that I’m qualified enough to make it to the interview round.

So yes, at the moment life is crazy, exciting and scary, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I don’t know where I’ll be working or what I’ll be doing this time next year. But in saying that, I don’t know who I’m interviewing or what I’ll be getting up to tomorrow – and that to me is pure bliss.

There are obviously moments where the scary times seem to take over and distract from the exciting ones, but I have the perfect combination of things to make everything happy again. I just have to:

1. Listen to this song:

2. Surround myself with people who make me laugh.

3. Eat cheesecake. Lots and lots of cheesecake.

4. Spend time with my family.

5. And look forward to the moment when I get a job and can walk up to my old lecturer only to tell him that he is a complete and absolute chump.

I didn’t cry on my first day of kindergarten. I actually couldn’t wait to put on my school uniform and pull up my brand new, blindingly white socks.

I didn’t cry on my first day of high school. Was I nervous? Yes! Did I shed a tear? No!

Are you sensing a pattern here?

Well it’s about to break.

I, Claire Young, cried on my first day of university. I’m not proud to admit that, but it’s 100 per cent true (just ask my mother).

But before we get into that, let’s start at the very beginning (a very good place to start according to Maria from the Sound of Music). The year was 2010. I had just returned from an amazing year abroad and was suffering an epic case of Chicagoitis* The majority of my friends didn’t take a gap year and were already one year through their degrees. I felt lost, a little bit out of place and not at all ready for the challenges that the future would bring.

*Yes I did just make up a disease. Deal with it.

So on my very first day I set off with a pen, a notebook and  no idea of the challenges that were ahead. My first big mistake was not leaving early enough. The University of Newcastle is known for its awful parking conditions (and by awful parking conditions I mean the car to car park ratio is 5:1).

I left at 9am for a 10am class and when I arrived on campus at 9:20am, all of the parks were taken. I drove all over campus and still couldn’t find a scrap of land to leave my vehicle. At 9:45 I really started freaking out, so I called my trusty mother who just so happens to work on campus. After an epic case of “I told you so” from mum, she left her building, got in my car, and showed me an “overflow” parking lot (read: dirt pit) that was about a 10 minute walk away from class.

So I turned up to my 10am class, only to find that it actually didn’t start till the week after. Fab. My 11am class was fine, except I felt weird because I didn’t recognise anyone, which is odd because at times it feels like Newcastle has a population of 100. After a few minutes, a ridiculously bubbly girl named Rachel came up to me and said “Can I sit next to you? I don’t know anyone”. And the rest – as they say – is history. Rach is still one of my closest uni buds.

We took notes throughout the lecture and when it finished I said bye to Rach and headed back to my car. After walking for ten minutes I realised that I had gone the wrong way so I walked back to the lecture theatre and started again. Ten minutes later I realized I’d gone the wrong way yet again, but this time I couldn’t remember the way back to the lecture theatre. Just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, it did (doesn’t it always?). It turned from a perfectly sunny day, to something that looked like it belonged in the movie “A Perfect Storm”. It. Bucketed. Down.

The notes I had taken in my first day of class were drenched. I was covered in mosquito bites. I was 130 per cent lost.

So what did I do next?

I did what any normal 19-year-old would do (ha!). I called my mum, sat down in the gutter and cried. Mum came to my rescue, helped me up from the gutter and drove me to my car.

I guess what’s cool about this story (I know what you’re thinking – nothing, Claire. You are a giant loser!) is how much I’ve changed in three years.

Today was my last ever day of university. I don’t have any more classes (I still have three assignments but as far as I’m concerned, that’s a minor detail). These days I know the campus like the back of my hand. Sometimes I walk past that spot where I sat down in the gutter and laugh, because it was ridiculously close to where I had left my car.

Today I stumbled upon a giant crate of redbull, cracked one open and then cheersed (is that even a word?) my friend Ash. We took pictures in the aforementioned redbull crate (Ash fell over on the ice, but that’s another story in itself. All I’m saying is she had a wet behind throughout our PR tutorial).

I’m happy, I’m confident, I don’t even feel like that same ‘gal in the gutter’ and I’m one step closer to finally getting that ridiculously expensive bit of paper.

Yewwwwwwni.

P.S. I’ve crossed another item off my bucket list.

19. Paint a picture