jim ward. post-graduates. holidays.

I usually forget about music in the morning. But it's a great way to rev up the day. So, today I woke up, read a few chapters in Nick Hornby's "Slam" and flipped on my iTunes. Jim Ward, didn't even realize I had the man on my computer, but wow, yeah me for putting this on. I'm sure it was a last minute snatch from KRUI before I headed out those doors into post-grad life. Post-grad life is kind of like being a Post-Op patient at a hospital. Everyone wants to know how you're life has or will change thanks to the operation/graduation, they want to know what you're up to, how and if they can help, maybe make a casserole to bear the brunt of the no-job front. Well, that last part's mostly for post-graduates. Anyway, my parents had a gathering at our home last night, so I caught up with all of their friends, filled them in on me, ask questions about them and theirs; it was good. I enjoy that sort of thing. Asking questions, learning about others, filling in the blanks. Perhaps that's why I like journalism and news. But these days I'm heading in all directions. Aiming for anything and everything, but not loosing sight of what I want myself to look like at the end of the day. So, we'll see how this all pans out. I'll fill in all the rest later.

Utter Ridiculousness & the Holidays

I woke up at 4:47 p.m. today. It was too ridiculous to not write about it in a blog. Last night I went to a Christmas party and later met up with some kids from Iowa, then didn't get home until around 5 a.m. Still, I slept over 10 hours and almost 12. That's ridiculous. Ok.

In other news: I'm so excited for Christmas time. I still have yet to buy any Christmas presents, but I will. Eventually.

Notes for everyone: Linens 'n' Things is going out of business. Check it out. Everything's 40-60 percent off. It's great. No, I don't work there or know anyone who does, but I had to mention it. Seriously. Everyone will be getting silverware, dishes, margarita makers, blenders and maybe if you're lucky some bath towels. Nice!

the arrival

My return to the Midwest after a long stint on the west coast was welcome. I enjoyed my time over there, learned a lot about publishing and experienced a different way to do life. Really, San Francisco has a lot to offer, especially when it comes to people. I find that it's people that almost always make my travel experience special. I'll forget the memorable sites and the delicious dinners eaten out; I'll forget the trips to the grocer and rides on the BART. But what I won't forget are the ones I did life with. And now I know if I ever find myself out there again I'll have friends, and I won't be the least bit frightened to do the same thing in another unknown city with unknown people and an unknown public transit system.

San Francisco: nearly closing remarks

This week has been a good week. Recaps.

Sunday-Vetoed Sickness, got my operation Christmas Child box, saw Role Models with Brandon. Quality time, well spent.

Monday- Tired, but last week, so on my game, naturally. Have been charming and clever ever since. Caught up on Brothers and Sisters.

Tuesday- Celebrated a friend's birthday, attempted a human birthday present, failed. Somehow got home by 2:30 a.m. Pas Bueno.

Wednesday- Climbed! Up, Up and Up at Mission Cliff. Twas marvelous. Then got delicious quasadillas. Yum. Also got booted from my desk at Ode to make room for the new intern. It was all fine until I then got booted from my other desk to sit in the corner. Seriously. Therefore crept about the office in hopes of scaring people in just the right way, so they'll never forget me. So far it's going well.

Thursday- Office glory days. We all ate lunch together outside and had goodbye cupcakes. It's nice to feel like I actually count at the office. I got a Mostess cupcake, as in, the most delicious cupcake that resembles a Hostess cupcake, yet is somehow masterful in comparison. Yeah, that's right. That cupcake.

And the week's still continuing. Tomorrow, Friday, I will be in the office for a few hours then am headed to the city for San Francisco's Green Fest. That's the only way to clinch my time in this liberal fairy land. The pun was not intended, though is hilarious, so therefore works. My mom will be flying in, so she's going to meet me at the fest and enjoy herself as she basks in all the recycling, sustainable, energy efficient wonders of this great city. Then we'll eat steaks like real midwesterners. I'm looking forward to it.

it all counts. down.

Top Ten Favorite Things About San Francisco:

1. People here. They're all pretty fun.

2. Pub Crawls in the Mission District with pretty much strangers.

3. Museums and sites.

4. Union Square on crisp Sundays.

5. Sunsets here are brilliant.

6. Recycling Bins on streets. What a concept.

7. Mexican food.

8. Office dance parties slash sass.

9. Mountains in the backdrop.

10. Boats sailing away through Golden Gate.

I didn't take this picture. But it's accurate. I vouch.

I'm resurrecting this. Heh.

I'm resurrecting this picture from a post I wrote long ago.

Hope you enjoy it as much as I always do.

Return of the Sick Kid

Sophomore year I used to get sick a lot. So much so that I was always armed with a bottle of Dayquil and Nyquil caps all the time. I'm afraid those days are back. I have no voice. I'm wearing my gray sweat suit any chance I get, and I think I lost a lung somewhere along the way. I've been feeling foggy all week, perhaps why I've posted so much, haven't been able to concentrate on work or life or whatever. I somehow managed a phone job interview the other day. I hope I was coherent. As for me, I really can't say. I am so tired, and it's terrible because it's the kind of tired where you absolutely need to sleep, but can't because you're so congested, you're coughing and you can't get used to the light outside peering through the blinds.

I made some tea. It's that herbal kind that's called something like sleepy time or whatever. It's chamomile and lavender. I like both of those. But I just popped a Zicam, so all's lost, I have to wait 15 minutes to drink anything. Sort of a drag when I really need some fluids right now. Anyone got any "get better" tips?

Also, I'm sorry if I spell things wrong or my grammar is off. It's due to the cold and my inability to notice anything not glaring me in the face. k, bye.

Shocked

A good friend of mine sent me a truly disheartening link to a news story today. It broke my heart a little bit. The story was about a racist hate crime that happened on Baylor University in Waco, Texas. This friend went to school there and is a Barrack fanatic. It's true. So, the story went as follows: after Barrack was elected President of the US racial tensions spewed on Tuesday night between white and black students on the Baptist university's campus. Obama/Biden lawn signs were burned and a noose was left in a tree. No one has been arrested yet.

It's particularly heartbreaking because even earlier this morning I received a link to an Ezra Klein blog post from The American Prospect.. This post had me ecstatic. I even wrote about it on Ode's Exchange. I hope that our country can get over the history we have endured, and I'm just perplexed that we haven't yet.

Below is the photo Klein writes of:

Revitalizing

So, I have an affinity for sad songs, it appears. In which case, that's strange. This isn't the first time I've been told I'm a little depressing when it comes to music. I don't know what it is. I remember a post from Brian and I about a year or so ago chronicling this notion of me and sad music.

Sometimes good lyrics are all you need

For some reason I have listened to this song around five times today and probably will listen some more.

"Juner," Polydream, off of Send Me to the Sun

I’ve left my mind
With hopes of finding
A reason for this life.

I’ve learned to long
To lose what I’ve loved
So it goes, sometimes.

I think my life is fine.
There’s no use in asking me why.
Sometime my dreams are to die,
And I wonder what it’d be like to fly.

I’ve left my mind.
You lose and you learn...
I’ve been bitter
But I’m much, much better today.

I’ve got so long
You only live once.
I don’t know what you said
But it just don’t matter now.

And I'm doin' fine.
I think my life is fine.
There’s no use in asking me why.
Sometime my dreams are to die,
And I wonder what it’d be like to fly.

What you have is all you need.
Talking out of sympathy.
It's a final serenade.
Consider this your serenade.

Well, I think my life is fine.
There’s no use in asking me why.
Sometime my dreams are to die,
And I wonder what it’d be like to fly.

I think my life is fine
There's no use in asking me why
Sometime my dreams are to die,
And I wonder what it'd be like to fly.

Exchange/ Caricatures/ College: no cohesion

Recently I've been posting a lot of entries on OdeMagazine.com. It's been a nice change of pace. I'm writing short blurbs on interesting events, people and places—plus I'm commenting on other exchangers' posts. We're trying to drive more traffic to the web, and one way to do it is by adding more content regularly throughout the day. This is where I and my colleagues come in. Oh, and you too. We're planning on redesigning our site in the near future to make it more of a social utility allowing readers to have more of an interactive experience with Ode.

So far there haven't been a lot of comments on stories, posts or profiles. I've taken it upon myself to start writing on random strangers' exchange stories. Whether they're argumentative or in appreciation doesn't matter much. I pretty much just write a caricature of what I would have said in real life if an actual friend of mine had said whatever it was whomever wrote. I use the word caricature all the time, and what about those people who make funny drawings of people who pay a rather large sum for something a 6-year-old would have done free and with more enjoyment. Anyway, I always used to want an actual picture caricature of myself, but now I'm glad I don't have one—though there was this one time a neighbor of mine had an artist friend visit from Finland or somewhere in Scandinavia, and he drew me. It was too true to form though to be a caricature. Anyway, caricatures are neither here nor there.

ODE. Yes, Ode's been cranking out web pieces left and right. I've been writing around 3-6 web stories per day along with completing various other tasks. My point in all of this is to simply say, check it out, here, if you will. You can even add your own pieces. I like interactive story sites like Ode's offers. It's none of that iReport crap that CNN.com has. I seriously hate that stuff. Sometimes they'll write full stories based solely on iReporters. It's stupid. Plus, aren't they stealing that whole "i" thing from Apple?

Sorry this is scattered, I've got a lot on my mind, and it doesn't help that I cant' concentrate because I'm sick. I've had Dayquil, Nyquil, Zicam, Benedryl, Allegra, cough drops and chamomile tea—still, I am sick. Season changes never cease to ruin me (I had reunion me, originally, that's how scattered I am). Speaking of changes, or rather transitions, I'm moving back to Chicago in a bit. My last day at Ode is next Friday, November 14. My mom's flying out, we're going to spend the weekend in SF, then drive down the coast in a rented set of wheels to LA. We're visiting my sister and my college roommate, Elizabeth Steele, and it is going to be glorious. We'll be back by the 21st. Life is just going again. Pretty soon I'll be 40, and then what will I have to write about. Gees. I miss college. I never thought I'd be one of those people, but I am. I look at the photos of my friends who are still in college and really just want to be there too. I'm seriously thinking graduate school. International studies? History? We'll see. I miss classroom learning.

Ryan Adam and the Cardinals: Cardinalogy

Sometimes I will go weeks without listening to music solely. When I was in high school this would have been a travesty. I listened to music all the time as a teenager, but that's all I would be doing. I would be staring at the ceiling listening to music. Now, I'm lucky if I remember to flip on my iTunes as I get ready in the morning, or remember my iPod or can cook with music on. This thought all came about because I recently acquired the new Ryan Adams and the Cardinals album Cardinology. I've been listening to it on repeat as of late. I quite enjoy it. It's great to listen to when working, when getting ready before work, and in the evenings. It's something I can listen to just by itself. I don't feel like I need to be multitasking when I listen to it. It's because I don't feel like I'm being idle when I'm listening to it. I emailed it to a friend of mine the other day when asked to recommend some good Ryan Adams tune-age. I started with Fix It, and then realized that couldn't just be it. There are so many good ones on this album—pretty much all, except "Magick." And that once was obviously going to be not the greatest based solely on the spelling. It makes it seem like it will be about the card game Magick, popular with Dungeon and Dragons fans the world over.

In any case, "Cobwebs" is my new favorite today.
Somewhere impossible light still shines and every smile is as if new
Sometimes I feel like the static in the attic is making me just confused

If I fall will you catch me?
If I'm sorry, sorry enough
If I fall will you pity me?
Will you confuse my love for the cobwebs?
Confuse my love for the cobwebs?

I always pause if I can on fifth avenue look uptown with my head in the stars
Somewhere the buildings give way to sunlight give way to east and west central park

If I fall will you catch me?
If I'm sorry, sorry enough
If I fall will you pity me?
Will you confuse my love for the cobwebs?
Will you confuse my love for the cobwebs?
For the cobwebs?

Will you confuse my love for the cobwebs?
Confuse my love for the cobwebs?
For the cobwebs?

Happy Election Day.

Is it horrible that I am more excited for the election tomorrow just so I don't have to talk about politics with everyone left and right? It's not that I'm not jazzed about gaining a new leader. I'm glad that life is moving on and the political process is moving again. It's funny. The last time there was an election I accidentally voted twice. I think. To be honest, I can't remember. I know I requested an absentee ballot for Illinois, but I distinctly remember voting at Quad freshman year at the UI.

In any case, my roommate at the time was very much into a Kerry presidency. Having just left home, ie the land of Catholic small business owners along Chicago's north shore, I was effectively brought to vote for President Bush. I mostly did it in protest of my roommate. She was really annoying with all the Kerry campaign garbage, and I was more interested in annoying her than giving an opinion. I suppose that's the 18-year-old way? If not, then I guess I was just immature. In any case, it didn't matter anyway. Iowa went to Bush and Illinois never had a chance to go to him.

I find myself in a similar situation today. I had the option of voting absentee in Illinois or at the booth in California. I enjoy getting the sticker more than anything announcing to everyone that I voted, so I chose California, naturally. I'm wishing I voted over the weekend at city hall. Tomorrow I have to wake up at 6 am to walk two blocks in order to get to the polling place. Oh well. My sleep is what I'm willing to sacrifice for democracy. Anyway, I know "every vote counts," but at the same time, both California and Illinois are going to Senator Obama. I could see it mattering if I voted in Iowa or Illinois. Swing states, and all. But, is it just me, or does it seem like the popular vote doesn't matter anyway? We all saw Al Gore lose, and we saw Florida fumble last time—I suppose it does matter. And I will be seen voting tomorrow, wearing my sticker proudly, and I'll be watching the announcement on television with other seemingly like minded individuals. I'll be toasting to a renewing four years, and I'll be glad that life is moving on, and Saturday Night Live will have more to coast on.

But what I'm most happy about is that this is a time where the United States gets a chance to revitalize our stance in the world. We get to not so much get a do over, but we get a chance to remake ourselves. I'm just happy that it seems we'll have a president that cares about how we look to the rest of the world. Honestly, that's one of the most important things to me. There's nothing more detrimental to a country than to boast, and say you can go it alone. Because, really, we can't. We're one country in one world, and everyone else matters.

Not Exactly a Halloween Spider Web

Instead of doing Halloween this year I somehow roped myself into creating my own website. I'm a big fan of it, but maybe that's only because I've been awake for almost 22 hours straight. I should probably hit the hay.

Anyway, here's the site, if you're interested.

HERE

Enjoy!

Why Tina Fey is my Favorite:

First. Read this: HERE

Second: Here's my list.

1. She started from the bottom and worked her way up. She didn't have famous parents or siblings. She just is awesome.

2. She's unconventionally beautiful. See cover of Entertainment Weekly circa around April, if you doubt me.

3. Before Sarah Palin was invented slash conjured out of thin air, she was already cool.

4. She reads the paper. See Liz Lemon when naming five reasons she's better than Josh, her actor pet.

5. Her daughter's name is Alice named after her grandmother. That's lovely.

6. Actually humorous, yet smart, females are rare. That breed, or "type" (per se), should be coveted by all of us.

7. Everything she says is quotable. Seriously. Wikiquote-30 Rock is probably the best thing ever.

8. Even her movies that were supposedly a flop are still funny. See Baby Mama.

9. Combine her with anyone and they're instantaneously hilarious. See Sarah Palin. Only people don't laugh with her. See SNL when she came on for a bit raising the roof with Amy Poehler.

10. Amy Poehler loves her. Therefore, I do too.

San Francisco: Roommates in Costume

I suppose I haven't much talked about my living arrangements here in San Francisco. It's sort of hilarious. To give you a glimpse of my day to day, and a little bit of Halloween's special occasion glimmer:

Last week I got a call while working from Nancy, my 40 something housemate. She's a high school teacher, has a 6-year-old daughter, and is a pleasure to be around. Often she will call me while I am working. It's no big deal, I just turn off my ringer and forward her to voicemail with the intent of checking her detailed messages later. They're actually not detailed at all. She's the sort of person that leaves messages that sound like: "Hey, I've got something I need to ask you...Call me back, bye!"*

*Note: These messages are 100 percent unhelpful, and you should stop leaving them. That's "you" plural. I hate that the English language has that you/you business.

Anyway, this particular day Nancy called me twice in a row. Naturally I assumed there was a problem, like she was ill or Drina got caught shop lifting while drunk. What have you. However, that was not the case. Nancy wanted to tell me she had bought me an Ugly Betty costume to wear on Halloween, complete with glasses, fake teeth with braces and an ugly wig. This was clearly very important, and while on the phone sitting at my desk in the office, I did in fact repeat all parts of the costume aloud so my coworkers could hear. I feel like living with Nancy and Drina is like a television show sometimes. They're so comical. I'm the random girl that lives with them, becomes like the family, only to move out and on to other things. Like Cody from Step-by-Step.

But back to Nancy and Halloween. Nancy got herself a child-sized "fairy" costume for $10 from what she calls the "party store," because apparently it has no real name. She is my size, i.e. 5 feet-ish and petite. Tonight she was trying on her outfit, trying to make it school appropriate. She put on another skirt underneath the sheer fairy one, and tried on no less than six shirts to go beneath the belly-styled fairy top. The costume comes with these wings that look like camouflage fairy wings. No, seriously. They're the exact fabric and pattern found on Army gear everywhere—and probably the reason the costume was only a tenner. Anyway, they flop too much. That's the problem with wings. I should know, I was a butterfly, ladybug and a fairy throughout college and had intentions of being Tinkerbelle last year, but ended up alone in London in a hostel (another story for another time). So, I pinned her wings together in two spots. Nancy was practically ready to wear the thing to bed, but I told her she couldn't. Sometimes I feel like I might function as her mother as she mothers Drina.

Anyway, usually our days end with me helping Nancy pick out what to where to school the next day, in order to of course, impress her high school classes. Sometimes she's fine by herself, but often I'm glad she asked. She's like my mom in that way. But Halloween will be a nice time to check out how the San Franciscans do it. If forced, I had some options for Halloween costumes myself. 1. Madeleine 2. Pippy Longstocking 3. Strawberry Shortcake and obviously, the old classic 4. Roman/Greek woman. Simple and Cheap: white sheet and lots of eyeliner. Maybe a wreath of some sort of leaf. We'll see.

Surfaces and Attitude

It's interesting to think about "types" of people. You know, there's all these stereotypes floating around, and I always liked stereotypes, because more often than not, they're true. See, I'm not a racist or a man-izer, or a womanizer for that matter, but there's something about a certain group of people that you know what they might say and how they might say it—not perhaps get all the sticky details exactly, 100 percent correct, but nonetheless, pretty damn close.

Apparently, I am a type. I'm the sass-type. It's typical amongst shorter girls, perhaps with a bit of pazazzy-red hair, maybe a streak of a 'tude promoted by a large family. Sure, I'm the bossy type. I like things done right, and I usually think I know how to do it. Unfortunately, I do not take criticism well, though this has helped me in the past. I'm a Don't-Take-No-For-An-Answer Type girl. My apparent method of flirting usually involves something like needing help to reach things that are too high for me to get myself, but willingness to attempt a go at getting it myself, and then subsequent laugh from fellow who gets it down with ease. I don't receive help well, but this is changing. And while this motivated "firecracker" style I've got going seems to be just the ticket for me right now, perhaps I won't be this way forever. In fact, I do tire myself out—and sorry for going on so long about me—but let's get real here. We all know our types.

There's always the funny guy, who's jokes are clever because he's unwittingly intelligent, but can appreciate the crassness involved in others' jollies. There's the classy girl who needs everything to be just so, in order for life to pan out appropriately. There's the athletic guy who has forfeited much of his personality to his good body. And there's always another type of funny guy, who doesn't know exactly how funny he is, because he doesn't grasp how intelligent he is. Of course, there's unfortunately others who are dull and others who are work-aholics, others adventurous and others still. But it's the blend of various groups of all these that make people interesting.

To say you belong to a certain type sort of disregards the other micropersonalities involved in all of us. Sure, I may be a sassy little chica, but that doesn't necessitate bitchiness or decrease my ability to be caring and generous with both time and money. I suppose it's what resonates most with people that make you who you are. Though being a certain way in certain situations with certain people does not mean that's the only thing there. It's just the surface level.

Leaving Las Vegas Among Other Places

The beautiful Red Rock Canyon

Sheryl Crow's Leaving Las Vegas makes me happy. I recently traveled to Vegas to visit some friends and see Brian, who flew in from Chicago, as well. It was a spectacular weekend full of adventures—but it seemed slow at the same time. Between losing a twenty at one of the local casinos, seeing the Beatles Love show, free climbing at Red Rock Canyon, visiting with everyone, and skydiving, I'd say the weekend was a success. It's been nice to be part of what happens around this side of the country—deserts, gambling, and mountains.



Downtown Vegas' city lights

I like it, but I can't imagine looking out my window each day and not seeing a flat, beautiful patch of grass, or just being able to look out and look at forever. There's something so glorious about looking at the sun setting over fields of beautiful corn. And the mountains here are glorious, too. Yes, I like looking out and feeling as if I'm tucked into a bed of high hills overlooking me as I go about my life here—but it's definitely not that feeling of infinity that prairie grass delivers.

I have just under three more weeks on the Ode job, and then it's off to other things with other people in other places. I'm due for an adventure. It's funny, I love the experience of deciding to go somewhere and making it happen, feeling comfortable, and then almost a moment later tossing my cares to the wind again—I go and do something different. What do you call that? It's more than antsy-ness. I was once referred to as a free bird, or perhaps that was just me thinking to myself, but regardless, I am. Well, I'm no more unique than the rest of you, really. It seems I've done a good job of encircling myself with people with that exact mindset—one of here today, gone tomorrow. It's nice because while we're all scattered about the globe, we're also free to visit one another and thereby expand our worldliness. Anyway, it's a double-edge sword because the relationships we have with one another end up becoming strained, and people get hurt and time passes, but there's never the right time to make mention. Until one day, somehow thoughts are expressed and life moves on. I suppose that's the one down turn. You find all these great people, but it's impossible to get them under one roof—especially since they may not know one another because you've been continent hopping alone.

lacking caffeine and that life zeal business

Hi. I've been a bit lackadaisical about updating this bad-boy right here. Sorry. I can't believe it's been about two weeks since. Much has happened. Here's the bulleted list.

a. Kerstin, my friend since 3rd grade, visited San Francisco over this past weekend. [went to Alcatraz, shopped, dined, bar-hopped, and had a party for my housemate, Nancy.]

b. The weekend prior I was in Chicago visiting my family and friends and going to my cousin Maureen's wedding. It was beautiful. I also managed to pick some apples, grab dinner with my girls and boy and bonded in Rebecca's living room.

c. I've got about a month left of my internship here at Ode. It feels good to know how this place ticks, adding in my own two cents in the possibilities section. Really, I'll miss it when I'm gone.

d. I'm going to Vegas this weekend. Brian is meeting me at the Las Vegas airport, and Meagan and Dan Walsh (our married friends, weird) are going to pick us up for a fun weekend. Planning on a little skydiving, some Black Jack, sassy dresses and a show!

e. Already I am being harassed by my mother about not having a full-time job lined up post internship. It's stressful enough as it is. Damn all my smart friends who went back to graduate school.

f. I think that's it. Whew. Oh, and I'm planning a trip to LA post Ode in November before heading back home. Should be a fun time.

And, of course, a story: Monday I waited for Marco for 45 minutes only to find out that he was at the chiropractor. I called my other possible ride about 6 times before getting a hold of her. All I had to do was walk/bus to this way far corner. I think I lost a pound before 9 am Monday. I probably sped walked 3 miles in a 1/2 hour. I might as well have been running. I did manage to hop a bus and didn't even have to pay because I got off before I could make it to the front of the bus to drop my change. There's nothing quite like beating the system. That buck-fifty was mine!

quite possibly the saddest song i have ever heard

Kate Rusby's "A Ballad" from The Girl Who Couldn't Fly

Take the robe from off thy form,
And cease thine hair to braid,
Thy love to thee will come no more,
He woos another maid,
And broken are the many vows,
That he hath pledged to thee,
He woos another maid, and this,
My bridal morn should be.

False to me oh say not so,
For if thy tale be true,
And the one that I love be lost to me,
I shall not live to rue,
And if he do take another mate,
Before the holy shrine,
Another ne'er shall have my heart,
Death will be a friend of mine.

She takes the robes from off her form,
And dons a snow white gown,
She loosened from her locks the braid,
And let her hair hang down,
She flung around her lovely head,
The thin shround of her veil,
To hide the fast ascending tears,
And cheek of moon ray pale.

With hurried yet, with careful steps,
Into the church she hides,
And there she saw the false of heart,
Receive another bride,
The bridal pageant swept along,
'Til all the train had fled,
Why stands the lone deserted one,
She slumbers with the dead

My Life in Bullet Points

- I woke up this morning a few minutes before the magazine's conference call with our Rotterdam office and executive editor. That went fine, just informative for me at this point.

-Ate Special K red berries while listening, then had a bagel and cream cheese. Productive.

-Super tired from watching Freaks and Geeks. I don't know what it is, but once I'm on a roll watching some new show, I can't stop. Alias, Sex and the City, Lost, Undeclared, 30 Rock, Growing Pains, Curb Your Enthusiasm, Grey's Anatomy, Ugly Betty and now Freaks and Geeks. I'm a little insane when it comes to box set television. I can't exercise restraint in any way. It's unfortunate.

-After eating cereal I decided to heat up some water for tea. Totally waited to drink it so it wouldn't burn my tongue. However, because of this fact I spilled in the center of my jeans right at the crotch. I was already in Marco's car so we couldn't turn around for me to change. I never want to be a burden, so I just sat in it. I felt like a baby in a wet, dirty diaper. I used my Eddie Bauer scarf to soak up most of the mess, but still. I'm soggy. So much for to-go mugs and their fail-safe caps.

-Oh, and the White Sox lost yesterday. Sad. I mean, granted, they weren't the best team this year, but they're still my team. On to Blackhawks season. Woo!

-I'm going to Chicago Thursday for my cousin Maureen's wedding! Hooray. Thursday night's the rehearsal dinner, and Saturday is the wedding. So, if I'm not at wedding festivities I'll be picking apples at the Apple Holler orchard in Wisconsin or chilling with friends and family.

-I can't believe how soggy I am. I'm like a waffle that's been soaking in syrup, no longer does it taste good and the quicker it actually gets moldy and gross. I think I'm going to bring my hot beverages in spaghetti cans again. At least it stayed closed.

Reality Bites. Not So Much.

Lelaina: Quick, Vicky, whats your social security?
Vicky: Uhm... 851-25-9357.
Troy: Very impressive.
Vicky: Thats the only thing I really learned in college... Sometimes I get that not so fresh feeling.

By now everyone should know how much I love the movie Reality Bites. It's hilarious and should be required movie-watching for the under-30s.

Not so light reading.

Each week I leave work a little early to head downtown San Francisco in order to get my allergy shots. It's also the time that I catch up on celebrity gossip and the like while in the waiting room. This Tuesday I went to Dr. Davidson's for the usual: cat/dog, dust, trees/grass. While waiting I picked up a copy of The New Yorker to catch up on the Going's On About Town, but instead read this article.

RIGHT HERE!

I think it's really well-written and important information. It's quite long, but I recommend reading the whole thing if you have time. Really, I do.

I've only been awake for seven and a half hours.

1. I finally found my to-go mug, and now I can't find the cap. So, since I had already poured my tea in my New York Times embossed cup I decided to take my chances at spilling. Mistake. I was in a rush, as per usual, and had to carry not only my cup without cap, but also my bowl of oatmeal and spoon, eight blocks. In attempts at having less a chance of spillage I thought, sure drink a huge sip of tea once you get to the stop sign. Piping hot. Mistake. I spit it out all over the sidewalk in front of a nice old Asian lady out for her morning walk. Once I got to Marco's car he thoughtfully opened the door seeing my hands were full and wet thanks to the tea. I ate my oatmeal quickly.

2. Today I called Brazil. I had to reach Stephane at his bookstore Galerie 1618. Brazilians speak Portuguese, Brigid Marshall's speak English with highlights of French. Handy. No, for real. I spoke to one of the employees in French because he didn't know English, and I am unfortunately not blessed with knowing Portuguese. Stephane was out, but now I have his cell phone. Alright. I get off the phone and am greeted to the wonderful sounds of affirmation. Whoa. Nice. Wow. Feels good.

3. Lunch around here runs like clockwork. It's 12:55 p.m. someone is going to Whole Foods, Safeway or somewhere else magical. Marco asks if anyone wants to join him, I say yes, hold on, as does Katie. But I look up a few minutes later. I had to finish printing a fax. They're gone. All gone. I went to Safeway instead. Got a baguette, some spinach, four plumes (I hope I like them), Special K Red Berries and a roast beef sandwich. Should be good.

Sunday afternoons are pleasant.

I forgot how much I like to write fiction. This afternoon I just started writing a bit of a story. I used to have a whole file of my fiction on my last computer. It's gone and so are all my stories. Makes me sad. That was always something I enjoyed. Writing for the sake of it. Some people flip on the television, which I do too on occasion, but writing to pass the time is fun. Singing along to Ryan Adams songs is also fun. I've been doing that all day. "Pearls On a String" is my favorite for the day.

"Blue eyes for miles. Pretty as a peach."

I just like that. I always wondered who the people who get songs written about them are. There's a part in the movie "The Holiday" where one character writes the "song" of another character, and I've always wanted to know what I would sound like, what a song of me would be. Musician couples intrigue me. Like Sheryl Crow and Eric Clapton in the 90s. She wrote "My Favorite Mistake" and performed songs like White Room together. Anyway,another song for another day.

I'm on a Beatles Binge

Beatles.
Across the Universe.

Words are flying out like
endless rain into a paper cup
They slither while they pass
They slip away across the universe
Pools of sorrow waves of joy
are drifting thorough my open mind
Possessing and caressing me

Jai guru deva om
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world

Images of broken light which
dance before me like a million eyes
That call me on and on across the universe
Thoughts meander like a
restless wind inside a letter box
they tumble blindly as
they make their way across the universe

Jai guru deva om
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world

Sounds of laughter shades of life
are ringing through my open ears
exciting and inviting me
Limitless undying love which
shines around me like a million suns
It calls me on and on across the universe

Jai guru deva om
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Jai guru deva
Jai guru deva

HAVE YOU HEARD?

Can you believe it?

I don't know what's more ridiculous:

1. Someone actually took the time to make this sign, and probably believes it wholly.

2. That Snuffleupagus' first name is in fact: Aloysius. Yup. That's right. You guessed it.

3. That I found time during my work day to not only think up Sesame Street characters, but spelled this correctly on my first try, and found this hilarious photo. I mean, it's sad because he's been murdered. You know what I mean. I think I need more to do during the day, or I need people to get back to me faster, so I can interview faster and then write stories all day long...Ah.

Daily Grind

Sometimes, well, actually most of the time while I'm on gchat I'm invisible. I like being able to decide who I want to talk to and when. Feel lucky if I talk to you when the Red Light is out. I don't want to sound conceited, but it seems I get bombarded by people when I'm talking on gchat, hence invisibility. It's like having a super power without actually being able to tell anyone about it, because then I'll have to talk to them on chat. It's funny though, I've told a friend of mine from home about my invisibility technique, and now she either messages me when I'm actually not on thinking I'm ignoring her, or, she'll be invisible and neither of us will be none the wiser. Tricky.

I get a ride to work with my boss every day. Sometimes I get one with the Art Director and other times I catch one with one of Ode's main salesgirl. But usually, I'm cruising to the North Bay with Marco. It's a good deal. I leave with about 7 minutes to go, walk about 7 blocks and then wait at the corner of 22nd and South Van Ness. 8:15 am rolls around and Marco's wheels roll up. He's usually speaking in Dutch to someone—Ode's publisher, family member, other miscellaneous people. Sometimes I can pick up what he's saying, like words here and there. Last month, and I think still, there's been a mouse living in Marco's car. I haven't seen the little bugger, but I know it's there. One time Marco was talking to his father (I picked up) about the mouse (also picked up, the word is mouse, but more german sounding). When I asked Marco after he was done chatting how his father was, he was kind of taken off guard. For some reason because I could pick up the subject line and the person he was speaking with he assumed I had just begun taking Dutch. Oh, I might have forgotten to mention: Marco is Dutch. Actually, Ode was originally a Dutch magazine, and we still have offices in Rotterdam, the Netherlands. In any case, I think Marco's been trying to speak Dutch faster so I can't pick up, or maybe I just am not as language savvy as I had hoped. We've begun listening to books on CD using his portable disc player connecting it to his hilarious cassette set in the car. This thing is a piece of work, let me tell you. If you open the dashboard of the car you'll find a collection of tapes from the 90s and before including Dutch bands that have the sound of Pearl Jam's Eddy Vedder, Elvis and some Sigur Ros. We have a fun time rocking on the drives home when he's not speaking in Dutch to someone using his tiny earpiece. But perhaps the best part of Marco's Toyota Camry is the fact that it's eensie. At least for him, as he's over 6 feet tall and can hit his head on the top.

Well, today I caught a ride with the Art Director, and now I'm riding smooth in his Dodge, kind of reminds me of a hearse—but it's not.

Time, Space, Photos and Speed

I read this today:

"Everything is temporary. And that is neither good, nor bad; it's just temporary."

I don't know who said it, I just know i like it, and so, I wanted to share it.

It's funny, after reading this I suddenly wanted to know what the visual representation for time was. Naturally I googled the word time, clicked on images, and after getting a couple digitized numbers and then a few Time, Inc. Magazine covers, I found this photo. This blurred photo of people moving too quick to be captured. I like the idea of moving too fast for someone to actually catch you in focus. Something really cool about that to me.

further proof as to why i love natalie dee cartoons.

titled: le hotdog.

france me manques.

Today

Notes on Today.

-I took my coffee to work in a washed-out tomato jar. Explanation: My roommate nabbed my to-go mug, thus causing me to search the kitchen for a re-sealable container. Tomato jar was the only option.

-I reviewed the job applications I sent last night: One to U.S. News & World Report. (I accidentally wrote "form" instead of "from." That's a bummer. I can never decide if I should email them letting them know I found the error, or not email them and hope they didn't notice. If I emailed them and they didn't notice, then I'd just be drawing attention to this error. OR. They noticed and they wanted me to email them saying I found the error, thus showing my wonderful skillz as a journalist. It is toward the end, so if they got that far in the cover letter, perhaps they decided they wanted me, but then changed their minds once seeing "form." Damn. If only it wasn't 11:23 p.m. when I shot it off last night.

-I can no longer do multiplication. I tried to figure out how much a year $12/hour at 40 hours a week would get me. Somehow I came out with $13,040. I was about 10 grand off. Good thing I'm not studying to be a mathematician. (Note: the word "mathematician" looks not unlike martian. Concordance? Anyone?)

Growing Pains. Life Goes On Whether or Not Anyone Notices

I was thinking about this great scene in Growing Pains yesterday afternoon. I don't quite know how it ended up swirling about in my head, but it was there. Read below if you're curious, then I'll continue.

Mike: Hey dad!
Jason: What is it Mike?
Mike: Gilligan's Island is on every day at three thirty.
Jason: Mike I’m very busy, I’m trying to make a chart.
Mike: Dad, Dad, it's on whether I watch it or not. Gilligan the skipper too, the millionaire, his wife, the professor, and...
Jason: Marianne?
Mike: Exactly.
Jason: Mike, what's the point?
Mike: It's not on for me, it's just...on.
Jason: Mike, are you starting to realize that the world doesn't revolve around you?
Mike: Well, yeah, I guess I am.
Jason: Well, congratulations, you know you've hit upon one of the basic ideas in the philosophies of Camu.
Mike: Don't you see. If Gilligan goes on without me, so does my school. You know all day today life went on, even though I wasn't there.
Jason: Mike this is your first philosophical realization. I’m proud of you. See, you can learn from T.V.
Mike: Dad, all day today life went on without me, and you too...don't you realize, the world doesn't need us any more; it does just fine without us.
-Growing Pains, Season 1, Episode 21- "Career Decisions"

I haven't been diligently keeping up on my reruns of Growing Pains, the hit television show that captured the hearts of youngsters every time Jason and Maggie macked in the kitchen, every time Carol whined about being uncool, every time little Ben impersonated someone famous, and oh, indeed, every time Mike Seaver himself walked on camera. Anyway, the point is that this scene just sort of sprang to mind, specifically the line where Jason says, "This is your first philosophical realization." I was thinking about it because lately I've been applying to a whirlwind of jobs, as I'm now just over half-way finished with my internship with Ode, and I have to start thinking about my life some more. Since I've been in California I've been doing some cool things, meeting new people, catching up with old ones located here in the west, and learning about the magazine business—and that's been great. But, I'm just starting to think more about all the things I'm not doing, too. There isn't enough time in the day, and that is frustrating. If I had all the time in the world I'm sure my list of things I want to do would be similar to many: In no particular order:

1. Be an executive editor at a top-tier magazine
2. Work for a nonprofit
3. Step foot in every country, ie travel all the time
4. Raise a family
5. Be an actress
6. Own a vineyard and a farm
7. Hibernate in a cabin in Michigan all winter long
8. Be really good at skiing, snowboarding, fishing, kayaking, snowshoeing
9. Manage to get killer six-pack abs. (I know vain, but come on, who doesn't get jealous looking at Janet Jackson?)
10. Donate tons of time and money to international aid organizations
11. Live in Washington, D.C., Paris, London, New York, Chicago, Cork (Ireland)
12. Scuba dive and not be scared of sharks
13. Work at an NGO and do things to save humanity
14. I don't know, a handful of other things that I'll think up later.

I have a lot of ideas.

French, so I love it.

"Those who believe they believe in God but without passion in the heart, without anguish of mind, without uncertainty, without doubt, and even at times without despair, believe only in the idea of God, and not in God himself."

I got this in an email from my dear friend Paul. It's a quote from someone named Madeleine L'Engle. She's french, so not only do I love her, but I respect her. This time last year I was just starting to get used to living in France. I miss it.

Real World San Francisco

In reading Kiki Abba's hilarious blog [note, please read mine before hitting up hilarity], I realize mine are 100 percent lackluster. Sorry about that. I suppose I reserve funny stories for emails rather than blogs. I'm not sure. Either way, it was really nice to read Kiki's blog because she's basically in the same boat as me except hers seems way more fun. I mean grant it, she's in Seattle and I'm in San Francisco, both on the West Coast, both pretty hopping places, but man, she's got people her age at work and a steady crop of friends. That said, it's nice to know I'm not the only one who is scraping the bottom of my cash barrel, refusing to turn on lights in the dark and regularly make my lunch and bring it to work. It's also nice to know that other people go to the movies alone and hang out in coffee shops all day on the off chance that somehow I'll meet my new bestfriend while I turn pages of the latest David Sedaris book. "What's that? Oh, you love David Sedaris. Me too." And then a friendship was born. Too bad life isn't actually like that. I sat at the Sugar Lump on 24th street and Florida for three hours yesterday, reading, drinking my latte and getting Lemon Poppy seed muffin all over my black shirt. I was a sight to behold, and let me tell you, the only people that did look at me seemed to be concerned over my slob style eating technique. Needless to say, but I will anyway, I wouldn't have befriend me either.

In other news, I'm going to take myself to see the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants this week, probably go to a Yoga class, or just say I'll go and then not, have my first lesson on the banjo, which my housemate plays (woo Nancy), and maybe go to a 20-somethings dinner with this church I've started attending. Every weekend I have these big plans in my head of what I want to do, but somehow they get cast aside. I'm going to go to the San Francisco Zoo, see the Full House house, walk on the beach by the Golden Gate Bridge and see the DeYoung Museum.

Oh, and I'm also planning trips to Las Vegas, Los Angeles and going home to Chicago for a weekend in October. Yay!

Favorite Tunes as of Late

1. "Use Somebody," on Only by the Night, by Kings of Leon

2. "Save it for a Rainy Day," on Rainy Day Music, by The Jayhawks

3. "You Don't Know Me," unreleased, by Ben Folds featuring Regina Spektor

4. "At Least That's What You Said," on Kicking Television, by Wilco

5. "Tell You Something (Nana's Reprise)," on As I am, by Alicia Keys

6. "Hard Rain," on Our Ill Wills, by Shout Out Louds

indian summer

san francisco may not do summer very well. and fall doesnt happen either. or so i feel. 80 degrees and rising in the bay area today. lovely city scapes are everywhere right now.

so you just want to stay at home?

what? no one wants to go to the middle east? last i checked america was pretty neat. not to mention canada. and. i have always wanted to see a polar bear in the arctic. plus. wouldn't it be so sweet to climb down a frozen snow crevice? so sweet.

A Nation of College Graduates

Sure, I'm a fan of higher education. I'm a college graduate myself. But these days, college degrees don't mean a whole lot. Unfortunately. Actually, education in the United States at least (prepare yourself for a sweeping generalization) doesn't mean that much. This afternoon I read this piece on The Star Ledger's website HERE. Well, it's nice to see that students are doing well on SATs and such, but standardized testing doesn't mean that much either. See. In the article the school touts the testing system as a valid form of measuring success. But from my perspective, having gone to a state school, gone through the motions of public elementary and secondary education, these tests only measure clearly commonplace status: "average."

"This year's SAT averages in themselves are not all that notable, as they were close to those in 2007 and typically change little from year to year.

Nationally, the averages didn't shift a single point from last year: 515 in math, 502 in reading, and 494 in writing, each out of a maximum 800."
-The Star Ledger

The article also makes mention that most if not all of the students from the particular school in New Jersey intend to go to college, and actually plan on going to instate colleges. The principal of the school had the audacity to say it might be that they don't want to travel too far or it "might" be that higher education is expensive. Of course that's why they're going to instate schools. College is extraordinarily expensive, especially when you measure the gains of going. Yes, you're more intelligent, but upon graduation, since so many people are going to colleges there literally aren't enough jobs to go around. And for how many seemingly blank checks students are filling out to no end, there should be jobs that pay more than the crippling dolla-dolla-bills that young graduates are might be getting out of college. Depending on which internship one accepts or not.

As a graduate with a liberal arts degrees in both Journalism and English, I can say with certainty that the education system in the United States cares more about the institution — those it employs and ever-increasing profit margins — than the students attending the school who are emptying out their piggy bank's worth of life savings just to be there. I went to the University of Iowa, and I worked hard. I enjoyed my college experience, but that's what it was, an experience. I worked all four years (yes, I finished in four years); I participated in clubs and organizations ranging from the Newman Center to University Choir; I wrote for The Daily Iowan, was Executive Editor, Managing Director and writer at Content Magazine and was a DJ at KRUI 89.7; I worked summers. I tried hard, all in the name of getting a career rolling. I did well.

Crossing the stage, shaking hands of the professors and various university officials (all making well into the $50k-$150k range, I thought of them at their graduation. I thought of who their terrible speaker was, of who they thought they were going to be 20, 40, 60 years from their meager 20-something days. Ten professors were honored for over two hours, the last hour was dedicated to the thousands of students that paid the most expensive price of admission to that basketball stadium. For a few seconds we were honored, but it didn't seem like it was about us at all.

Now I am living in California for a short stint interning for penny's (more than many of my peers are making as they intern for free, see Reality Bites below). As I attempt to flee working a dead end job that will at least give me health care, I'm here without any real cash — save for my piggy bank. I have to dig deeper into debt, because that seems to be the only way to get ahead in this world. You have to spend money to make it. And it's ridiculous. Everyone is trying to make money, but in their desire to gain a bonus they're essentially robbing the very people that make their company go-go-go. And, for the most part, company executives don't do this intentionally. Many people have mouths to feed and bills to pay, and to each his own, right? Take care of self first, right? The only way to sustain existence, right? As a 22-year-old University of Iowa graduate, Lake Forest High School graduate, Deerfield Junior High graduate, as a learned person, as someone worth employing, why does even a $35,000 job make it hard to make ends meet? By the time rent's spent, groceries bought, health care paid for, general appliances cashed out, and maybe a little tucked away for savings or a rainy day — why then, why is there still not much left? Most jobs are 40 hours a week, then another two hours in transportation time, so that's 10 hours a day, leaving between 4-5 hours left a day for life outside of sleeping and working. We're killing ourselves to get jobs that don't pay and steal our time. Our. Precious. Valuable. Time. Check out the October issue of Ode Magazine when it comes out for a peak into what a NYC schoolteacher thinks of the education institution post teaching days. I also put together a Q&A with the teacher to be put on the Web as well.

For those students graduating from high school, please head onto college, but know that even that won't be enough to get you the white picket fence, the brick house, the good neighborhood, the nice clothes. It will only get you average, and when you think of average, think nothing special. As individuals we need to think of ways to be special, to get what we want, but not at the expense of someone else. We need to be more conscious in our actions, and please, don't reward the status quo. That's a surefire way of rewarding no one.

"Everyone's special, Dash."
"Which is another way of saying no one is."
-The Incredibles

"i got somethin' on my mind-grapes."

"I speak to this because I have got the strong impression that there are rather a lot of Christians who shut their eyes to harsh realities, including sin. The good people of my Episcopal church, despite my letter, were doing just that sort of eye-shutting. No doubt Christians I'm speaking of hate sin (when they can see it), but they are unwilling to look at unpleasant realities—unwilling, indeed, even to look at, let alone love, the sinner. It would be sad if the world saw Christians as so many ostriches with their heads buried firmly in the sand. But many do see Christians that way. That's not the faith that will overcome the world."

—"Under the Mercy," Sheldon Vanauken

oh come on. this is too perfect.

titled: why you gotta leave me hanging weather channel?














seriously. i don't know how this happened. but it's too perfect. too. perfect.

Working Villages International

I'm working on a piece about an eco-village community in the Democratic Republic of Congo, specifically in the Ruzizi Valley. I learned about it on Ode Magazine's exchange. It's pretty neat actually. Here's some more information, should you be intrigued:

1. Working Villages International Homepage

2. Ode Magazine's, Exchange Story

3. Africa Aid Organization

Just a start into various places people can help.

Part of the reason I'm feeling more proactive in aid organizations and relief groups is from working at Ode, but also, I know there are tons of people that want to help and don't know how. I plan on posting more places where people can give in some way, either time, money or prayers. But, a good place to check if there's anywhere local is to go to Volunteer Match. It's a website that has listings of everywhere people can get involved locally. It's pretty great, and people can always use another person willing to give of themselves. And, as always, it's very easy to donate money at church, or at other religious services for different faiths. Plus, you can help others give by giving them charity-styled gifts, like a gift certificate where they can pick where to donate funds, like at TisBest, JustGive and many others. Plus, I'm sure each of you knows someone who personally needs charitable giving to do what they do, like friends who volunteer with Campus Crusade for Christ or someone who's raising money for some sort of health research or for a Breast Cancer walk. At the University of Iowa students raise money for children's cancer research with Dance Marathon. People always need help, so give from what you have, what you can. It's important, because only together can we make a difference.

"What Led Me to this Town?" The Jayhawks

What led me to this town
Room to roam but no place called home
Dazed at first but shaking off the Sunday gloom
What led me to this town?

Such a lazy afternoon
Eight shades of gray and I can taste the rain
Oh, how high the lovely have flown
What led me to this town?

Blue lights shining over my life
Blue lights shining over my life

Sometimes I can't get free
When you're standing right there in front of me
I woke up one day and my dreams were gone
What led me to this town?

Blue lights shining over my life
Blue lights shining over me

Are you keeping a secret?
Well I'm keeping one too
Can you keep it a secret, I'm in love with you

What happened to this boy?
Such a lovely mother's son

Blue lights shining over my life
Blue lights shining over me

in case you thought you could get away...

o, everyone knows i love natalie dee doodles. she's funny. what can i say?

this one speaks loads about summer.

see.

i hate bugs. i understand they're necessary, whatever. i get it. im just as sad as the next person that the bees are disappearing. what?—you didn't hear? yeah, they're dying out mysteriously. something to do with wireless phones. anyway. my traditional summer catch phrase is: "Get outta here, Bug!"















Because, yes, bugs ruins everything. that's why they say when there's something wrong with something, oh like, say, a computer, they say there's bugs in it.

san francisco has bugs. gnats to be specific. my housemate composts. which is all well and good. but she doesn't know how to do it right because our house is full of gnats. to do composting right you need to have a little pile of dirt to throw over the uneaten food scraps. we don't have a little pile of dirt. just a gnat infestation. and my room's next to the kitchen. ick.

well, you can't win 'em all. at least i'm not a bug.

Visible Changes

During my final year at Iowa I had the pleasure of continuing to write for the Daily Iowan newspaper. I usually wrote arts and culture stories, but periodically I'd somehow end up in the metro section with a good story. One worth telling. In February I wrote a story about Invisible Children, an aid organization based in San Diego, California, that was set up to benefit the children of northern Uganda. In 2003 a film was shot to tell the story of child soldiers and the mounting internally displaced people caught in the crossfire. Five years later there has been noticeable change, especially with regard to the continued peace talks between rebel leaders of the Lord's Resistance Army (LRA) and the Ugandan government. For more information on the peace talks click here. Later in the year the University of Iowa's Invisible Children chapter hosted a benefit concert to raise awareness and funds for the northern Ugandan children, where I was again to write a piece on them. Since those two stories I have thought more of the movement and the US role in aiding foreign countries and have often found myself wanting to have a hand in it, rather than merely writing about it. Though, clearly both are necessary. That brings me to today.

Today I was checking out the progress of Invisible Children and learning more about the struggle on another blog and saw this above video. We'll see where this all takes me, but all I know is I have to use my skills to help others. It's too hard to stand idly by as the world turns, especially since that's not like me at all. But until I know what my next move is, all I can do is do what I know how, spend my time wisely, and help the world turn, not just watch it turn. So, volunteer it is, starting with a Habitat for Humanity project in Golden Gate Park Saturday morning bright and early. Volunteermatch.org is a lifesaver.

So, basically, I challenge myself as much as my stories challenge others to live outside yourself, and live a good story to tell about later.

Check it out: Invisible Children Video

ABC's to Stress

ABC's popular television show, Lost, has been occupying most of my time as of late. I don't have cable at my house in San Francisco, I didn't have cable at my house in Iowa City, and my brothers were watching cable at home so I never was able to in Lake Forest. So, I don't really watch television. I'm not against people who do. I don't think it does bad things to a person. It might be an escape from reality for many viewers, but honestly, it's not that big of a deal. My housemate in San Francisco thinks television should be just one of those things you do when you're sick or there's a special like the Olympics or Living Life Organically. What have you. So, as I have few friends in this city it's been easy to slip into sort of a groove where I work all day during the week, periodically hang out with a friend or two, and then settle down in the confines of my bed, flip open my Mac Book, type in www.abc.com and let it lead me to Lost.

I know, I know. I should go to a coffee house. Meet some random people, become best friends, la-dee-da. But I'm too tired during the week, so Lost it is. While I'm clearly a fan, as I've gotten through 2-and-a-half seasons already, I think it's the main reason why I wake up with a headache. See, I clench my teeth when I'm stressed out or feeling anxious. I do it without noticing, and I usually do it while I sleep all night. It causes me to have really sore teeth and tender cheeks and temples. And headaches. Oh, the headaches. The doctor says it's TMJ, Temporomandibular Joint disorder. Lame. Since I have this quite regularly I sometimes sleep with a sort of mouth guard in, but I left it in Chicago, because I hadn't needed it in a few months. I thought I was over it. No dice. Lost apparently makes me all tense. I think it also my be this new job. I've been here for about a month and still feel a bit tense, and now that my main overseer isn't in the office daily, I think it might be better. I don't feel as much stress to get everything done super quickly without mistakes. I work better when I'm just all by myself. But, I guess with any new job one has to adapt. I just hope these headaches go away. It's not healthy to pop Ibuprofen daily, but it does make the pain subside.

For now, I'll simply have to cut back on Lost and instead get calm before I rest for the day.

ODE MAGAZINE

So, most of you are aware I'm working at Ode Magazine. It's an international, alt-monthly. We focus on positive news, but it's not that we're unaware of bad things happening to good people. We're intelligent about it, I guess you could say. We're getting set to launch our next issue in a few weeks. I got to see the sneak preview of it yesterday. Kind of exciting! I've got two mini pieces in it of about 300 words each. Still, it's cool. Plus, I did some layout for the web page we have in the magazine and wrote small minor things that don't get bylines. No biggie. Check it out if you want, just by clicking here.


You can also check out my special profile page. I mention my new favorite thing: vietnamese coffee.

That's all for now. If you see Ode's Silence issue from last month, it's still in stores at Whole Foods, Borders, Barnes & Noble and I think just recently we opened up an account with CVS. It's sweet to be part of something that is growing.

Setting Sail

Since my computer was stolen last year I haven't completely put my album collection on my iTunes. Today, while at work, I was listening to Pandora.com and was really in the mood for some Dave Matthews Band, surprisingly enough. Anyway, I hadn't listened to Dave's solo album in a long time, and this song popped up. Good one. Here are the lyrics. I'd like to think of myself as a ship in bottle that's set sail against the current. It's exciting to be doing what I had always wanted to do. I'm out in the world, living across the country, exploring life for a bit, trying to create a niche while I'm here. I'm here, aren't I? If everything is lost, make sure to check out Pandora.com the next shot you get.

Baby

Baby, It's alright
Stop your cryin' now

Nothing is here to stay
Everything has to begin and end
A ship in a bottle won't sail
All we can do is dream that the
wind will blow us across the water
A ship in a bottle set sail

Baby, It's alright
Stop your cryin' now

There was a weakling man
who dreamed he was strong as a hurricane
A ship in a bottle set sail
He took a deep breath and blew across the world
he watched everything crumble
woke up a weakling again

Some might tell you there's no hope in hand
just because they feel hopeless
but you don't have to be a thing like that
You'll be a ship in a bottle set sail

Baby' It's alright stop your cryin' now
It's alright so stop your cryin' now

You'll be a ship in a bottle set sail

so far away

This song makes me sad every time I listen to it. I love it.

"Tell You Something (Nana's Reprise)," Alicia Keys

Get so caught up everyday
Trying to keep it all together
While the time it slips away
You see I know nothing last forever

Imagine there was no tomorrow
Imagine that I couldn't see your face
There would be no limit to my sorrow
So all I can say

I wanna tell you something, give you something
Show you in so many ways
'cause it would all mean nothing if I don't say something before it all goes away
Don't wanna wait to bring you flowers, waste another hour let alone another day
I'm gonna tell you something, show you something, won't wait till it's too late

Just a simple conversation
Just a moment is all it takes
I wanna be there just to listen
And I don't wanna hesitate

Imagine there was no tomorrow
Imagine that I couldn't see your face
There would be no limit to my sorrow
'cause there's nothing that could fill that space
I don't wanna put it off for too long
I didn't say all that I had to say
I wanna take my time and right the wrong before we get to that place

Just lean on my shoulder,
It's not over till it's over
Don't worry about it cause
I'm gonna make sure our bond gets stronger
I don't wanna wait till the storm and something wrong and now you're gone and I can't find you

I can't wait, I can't wait, I won't wait, I don't wanna wait

It doesn't do it in San Fran

[courtesy of nataliedee.com]

I miss rain. There's nothing quite like falling asleep to a cracking thunderstorm as water catches onto the window glass. I love the quiet sounds of nature knocking onto my house as I lull myself to sleep. Only to be woken up by a snap and flash of lightning.

I miss it. Because it doesn't rain much in the golden state. Golden because the grass becomes so parched that the land turns a dull hue of yellow, brown, orange.

One Down. 15 to Go.

After quite a busy week at Ode Magazine, I think I can finally say I'm getting acclimated. We're getting set for the September issue, which I will have a few things in, so it's been an interesting week to begin work. I received an internship at Ode Magazine. There I get to write, edit, research, and copyfit various stories. It's pretty neat to be part of an international magazine: it's based in the Netherlands and California, with writers scattered about the globe and an executive editor who lives abroad in London.

Each day I begin my morning bright and early, grab a bite in the kitchen, then head down eight blocks to 22nd and Van Ness. I hop into the car of my managing editor and head North, to Mill Valley, as the magazine's headquarters are there, rather than in downtown San Francisco. Though it's not the most convenient place to live, the Mission district, is really fun, eclectic and always, always bustling with activity. It's about two stops away of downtown when using the Bay Area Rapid Transit (BART), and about 35 minutes from Mill Valley by car—2 hrs, roughly by using three types of public transportation. Speaking of which, last week my ride and I were out of luck when his car had to be taken to the shop. We had intended to get a ride from a coworker, but she had to leave early, leaving us with her suggested route home: by boat.

Yes, we were to take the ferry from the North Bay to downtown, then hop from there onto the BART, head to the Mission, walk eight blocks, and then, and only then, arrive home to my cozy, green Victorian flat. Well, we missed the boat. Quite literally, and ended up waiting for a taxi in the tourist town of Saulsalito to take us back to our abodes.

My first week on the job was good. I was busy, with real work, which is what I wanted. I didn't want to be fetching coffee and filling up ink cartridges. In short, I'm glad I'm not Andy in The Devil Wears Prada. Yikes.

Speaking of which, in honor of starting my job, I had intended to watch it all week. I've been watching bits and pieces for a week now, as each night I am so tired from my 8-10 hour day, plus about 1.5 hrs in transit. Now, after a fun weekend visiting with a friend from my study abroad in France, I will finish it. I will. No if's, and's, or but's. It's getting done, alright. Now, I just have to figure out what to watch over the course of seven days this week.

Bridge-Bits of Information:

-For more on Ode Magazine, just click this LINK.

-For more on traveling from San Francisco to outside San Francisco without a vehicle: Don't do it. No seriously.

Hunting. Or at least that's what this was going to be about.

I was in Michigan over this past weekend. Colleen, my 25-year-old sister, and I headed up to the Upper Peninsula late Saturday to meet my parents who had arrived the day before. Col hadn't been to our northwoods home in three years, since before she left for the Peace Corps. Sometimes I imagine myself doing something like the Peace Corps, but then I realize all the things she had to do, those she couldn't do, and how scary it is to be alone. I enjoy alone time, I do, but it's, well, lonely, when it's not self-imposed. I guess it would be mildly self-imposed though, in the Peace Corps case, as you'd be the one to sign on, but still.

Anyway, we were heading to the outward bounds. It's so beautiful up there. Fresh. Things are literally clearer. I'm set to move to San Francisco next week to take some leaps into my future. Ode Magazine offered me an enticing internship at their California office, so I took it. Early bird catches the worm.

No one in my family is really that encouraging about it though, which was expected. Journalists make no money unless you're someone like Katie Couric, or a journalist who somehow managed to meet a money maker spouse.

Colleen's doing something similar, but it's in Los Angeles, and it's a screenwriters workshop. I think it will be good for her, providing her with the necessary skillset she'll need if she's truly serious. I think the same of my adventure, and yes, it's an adventure and a test in resilience.

Driving up to Michigan Colleen and I discussed the reasons for our sudden departures for warmer weather and fulfilled dreams, or I guess an attempt at reaching both. And it wasn't until talking with her that I really noticed how similar we think. Entitlement generation or not, one has to at least try to gain something beyond the status quo. We realize that if we really, truly wanted to, we could get jobs at offices within the corporate world. And we would probably find a love for it and a passion, but there would always be that, "What If?" And that's what makes life worth it. It's your life, I continually remind myself. You need to do what you want with it, or else you're a slave to it.

Classrooms to Social Class

So, I've often heard it said that life goes in cycles, but I never really believed it to be true.

Now that I seem to have loads of time on my hands, which for anyone who knows me in the slightest knows I do not enjoy, I've used some of it to reflect. [I'm more of a busy body who detests the silence, and revels in the quick-witted world of journalism.] Honestly, at this point I have no choice but to reflect.

You see, jobs are scarce. And yes, I am capable. Yes, I am intelligent. And yes, of course, I can deliver a beautifully crafted 500-5000+ word story for a vast readership. But no. There is no opportunity for that. I get it. I know I can't simply call up my buddy Sam Zell and actually receive a job chalk full of benefits and a company car. I knew that when I signed on as a journalism major, applied to the School, and subsequently graduated with honors. But this whole cycle business -- well, isn't it about time for it to cycle some more? I'm not advocating a mass withdrawal of babyboomers from the jobs that I desire to be mine, but I am advocating for some sort of position open specifically to post-students like myself, and not just one here and there.

Capable. Talented. Intelligent. And really, someone who is unwilling to ditch her dreams to become another desk-riding worker in some office somewhere. It's not even so much the dream of becoming a reputable reporter, but in all honesty, that's what I am trained to be. This is what I paid for, with not only money, but effort and long hours writing, reporting and studying.

As has become obvious with the Bush administration and multiple media outlets finally calling the "subtle beginnings" of what "may be" a recession, it is clear there are going to be a lot of layoffs and much more of what's already started in the job market. However, there should always be room for talented, hardworking people.

I am not living in a dream world -- unless I believed everyone is capable of attaining the American Dream, which I don't subscribe to. Failure happens. Social Mobility happens. Success happens.

The President has used the influx of students released from universities out into the disappearing workforce as a scapegoat for why jobs are seemingly evaporating into thin air, with all this summer heat around, and what not. But I do not buy it. The work force cycles, comes in waves just as everything else, but it probably won't go back this time. Not to how it used to be. We're living in a global economy. Jobs are outsourced, and it's more than just Qwest Internet connections forwarded to India. It's everywhere.

But where is journalism in all this? Should we be effected the same way? It's all that Internet, right? It's newspapers slashing newsrooms 19% like the Chicago Sun-Times. "It's competitive," they say. Or at least they say after we've walked out of the classroom for the last time.

check it out.

Pop Matters Article

you won't regret it. i saw this on a friend's facebook. good deal.

the graceful steps of life

i wrote this story. it was published in the daily iowan's may 15th issue. it was my last daily iowan story before i graduated. enjoy. click here for more.

Whitney Wright took some great photos that you can see here.

beatles

i watched "across the universe" last night.
now i'm on a beatles kick.


Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise

Black bird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
all your life
you were only waiting for this moment to be free

Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night.

Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise,oh
You were only waiting for this moment to arise, oh
You were only waiting for this moment to arise

newspapers on the internet

Check it:

dailyiowanarts.blogspot.com


Click it. You won't be disappointed.

Two Things I Love

I love Journalism so much, I want to take it behind the middle school and get it pregnant.

Let that Be Enough, Switchfoot

Sometimes I really dislike the fact that I need God — you know, sometimes I feel like I'm here for no reason. And it bugs me that I can't do it alone. Anyway, I went to the Switchfoot concert last night with some friends for free (because I am a hotshot newspaper woman), and they played this song and another that I really enjoyed. I think I like this song so much because when I feel like I don't want to need God and when I feel like I can do it by myself it's when I also feel like I don't know if God is there. It's when I feel defeated. I bolded the particular lines that stuck out. The other song that I enjoyed was "On Fire."

I wish I had what I need
To be on my own
'Cause I feel so defeated
And I'm feeling alone

And it all seems so helpless
And I have no plans
I'm a plane in the sunset
With nowhere to land

And all I see
It could never make me happy And all my sand castles
Spend their time collapsing

Let me know that You hear me
Let me know Your touch
Let me know that You love me
Let that be enough

It's my birthday tomorrow
No one here could know
I was born this Thursday
22 years ago

And I feel stuck
Watching history repeating
Yeah, who am I?
Just a kid who knows he's needy

Let me know that You hear me
Let me know Your touch
Let me know that You love me
And let that be enough

Here's the link to the Daily Iowan story I wrote. HERE