My Life is Like a Terrible Game of Mario Party...

Throughout my existence, certain events and discoveries have led me to believe that life itself is against me. From day one, I knew that being an English major probably wasn't the smartest choice I could make, but I figured, "Hey, I enjoy this subject, I get great marks in it, might as well continue to frolic in this general direction..." WRONG. Boy was I ever wrong. University recruiters and current students will tell you that "typically", you will experience a change in marks during your transition from High School to University. However, they do not explain how big or little of a change that will be. For me, it was like getting smacked in the face with more knowledge than my brain could handle, and I felt as if I had been left completely vulnerable and unprepared,thanks to my high school's lack of preparation for the real world.  Now, I'm not saying that I blame my initial decline solely on my high school. Heck, I really enjoyed a lot of the classes I had taken, and some of the teachers were top notch. But realistically, they should have been straight forward with me when I approached them about my decision to go into English, especially during a time when the economy is in the toilet, and there are little to no jobs which require solely an Arts degree. 
Now, I know what you're thinking, "Kelsey, stop rambling and get to the point of this post already..." I'm getting there, momentarily, just bear with me. 
During my studies, I would find signs about my impending doom as an English students almost everywhere I went. I felt as if what I was doing was completely pointless. One of the assigned readings in my 18th Century Literature had a chapter entitled: 

(Apologies for the vertical image, I created this post with reckless abandon)

This is when I realized that my future was going to be a world of confusion, and utter disappointment. Throughout my travels, I would find myself being engaged in discussions, during which I would become the subject of concern. Upon telling people that indeed, I was an English major, the follow-up questions would quickly ensue, "And, what are your plans for afterwards?" "What are you planning on doing with your life?" "Are you interested in teaching English abroad?" To which I would mumble an answer which seemed justified. Usually, I came up with, "I've always wanted to be a teacher," which isn't completely untrue, but in today's job market, is completely unrealistic. 

During a trip, I came across a book which pretty much summed up my situation. 

As I picked it up I laughed, not only because the title/subtitle is completely accurate, but because I had come to the realization that I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing with my life. But for now, I think I'm okay with that. 

I would want nothing more than to be able to travel around the globe, and write about all of the cultures I have learned about in my various English/History courses, pay off my student loan, and write/create simply for the sake of creating something, and enjoying the process as well as the product. (I definitely just went full-on Virginia Woolf there for a second...if you don't know what I'm referring to, I highly suggest that you read her work, "A Room of One's Own").

But for now, it seems as if I am a wandering character in a bland narrative, hoping to find some rising action for this plot of a life....

Or, simply a character in Mario Party who never has enough coins for a freaking star, and keeps getting the crap end of the stick on every Event ("?") and Bowser space. 

(And yes, this actually happened to me.)