That time I almost worked for a fashion company in New York.

Contrary to popular belief - working in the fashion industry was never really my "dream". People always assumed it was because A) I wanted to move to New York City, and B) I liked to go shopping.

That's it. There was also a brief stint during my childhood when I begged my parents to let me pursue a career in modeling because the lady at the mall from the Barbizon Modeling School told me that I could. For a fee. But she thought I had a real "look", so the $750 application fee would be totally worth it.

To this day, I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I'd just gone to the Barbizon Modeling School. Maybe that lady WASN'T just trying to scam me as a poor, unsuspecting eighth grader with low self-esteem, maybe I really did have "the look" - if that look was 'glasses and frizzy hair'. Instead my parents got hung up on that measly $750 application fee. Even though I was like, "The lady said it's TOTALLY worth it! I have THE LOOK." And my parents were like, "uh..." and I was like "The Barbizon lady said that! And she knows what she's talking about, SHE WORKS THERE." 

Right. She works there. So, she said it because it's TRUE. Not because she's trying to scam my family out of nearly $1,000. She wouldn't do that, she was so nice.

Advice for the grads.

The first time I brought Kyle home - like "home" home, as in "meet the parents" and "let's see how long it takes before my mom breaks out the baby pictures" home - it was Easter weekend. Of last year. He had met my parents once before when they were visiting in Chicago, but I had considered that more of a 'practice round'. A 'by the way, this is the guy I've been hanging out with -- see, I told you he's not a murderer!' sort of thing. This was the real meeting. The "family holiday" meeting. The "staying for a weekend" coup de gras (my parents live in Ohio, so it would have been tough to turn around and drive back after dinner.)

My parents are not the kind of parents who live to embarrass me. In fact, when my mom suggested "We should dig out those old home movies! Kyle, do you want to see Jennifer's first Christmas when she was a baby?"- my dad mumbled to my mom, "I thought we said we weren't going to embarrass her. Remember...?" and she was like, "Well, THAT'S not embarrassing! She was so cute! It's only the FIRST Christmas."

'It's only the FIRST Christmas'. Not the fourth or fifth when I turned into a real diva about Santa and got really specific with my Barbie demands "Dear Santa" Christmas-list-letter.

So my parents dragged out the old home movies. And the baby pictures. And the articles I wrote for the county newspaper during my journalism internship as a high school senior.

"Did Jennifer tell you that she had a journalism internship as a HIGH SCHOOL senior?" my mom asked Kyle. And of course Kyle was like, "Why no, she didn't!" 

Thank God for moms. Right?