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.