no turning back now

One of the things that used to scare me, almost to the point of turning me off, about being a journalist was how much depressing shit you learn about what's going on in the world. Things other people can just ignore unless they have a reason to know it too. I used to subscribe (though I'd never admit it at the time) to the theory that if you ignore, it will go away. Maybe it will even cease to exist, and we can go on in our little comfort zones, our little places of imagined reality that we create for ourselves so we can pretend we aren't scared out of our minds for the future, for the fate of our planet, and for what happens in real tragedies, and, of course, after this life.

You can't do that when you're a journalist. Maybe you can if you're limited to magazines about fashion or fine dining. And I'm not knocking those people; I kind of envy them sometimes. But at least in the world of newspapers, life is about as real as it gets. Depending on what you cover, you can see fatal car wrecks, terminally ill children, environmental disasters, heinous crimes, and people just being flat out ridiculous, stupid, and mean to each other. The other reporter at my work says you just have to not let yourself think about it and do your job. That's true, and actually easy enough to do in the moment. But it can be hard to separate your own humanness from what you're covering sometimes too.

Another side-effect of being a journalist is becoming more interested and in-tune to national and world news. I've always been mildly interested (I don't think I would've entered this field if I wasn't), but I wasn't a regular follower until I began looking at news from the inside out. And so, consequently, I've learned about all kinds of things that terrify me, including but not limited to the ever-looming effects of climate change, the fragile economy, irreconcilable differences between Republicans and Democrats, and the list goes on. I'm interested in the news both as a concerned member of planet Earth and as an up and coming journalist trying to hone my skills. However, I can no longer find solace in the lie that these catastrophes are geographically far away or at some indiscernible point in the future that, according to my lie, will never actually arrive.

The joke would be on me, if I continued down that path. I'm too connected to it now. I'm all in. I'm no longer a displaced English major who just wants any excuse to write for a living. I'm really a journalist. And it's my job, my duty, to be aware of terrible things (and good, encouraging ones too, but for purposes of this blog, I'm making a point) and to raise awareness so that readers stay informed and have the power to make good decisions. I'm not writing for myself anymore, I'm writing for the world. And as egotistical as that sounds, I really believe it and for the first time, I feel like I'm doing what I always wanted deep down--making a difference.

(I want to leave what I've written above as it is but I feel I owe it to the woman I interviewed this morning and to my (if any) readers to mention that I came to these realizations, although I'd been on my way to them for awhile, because of something she said to me. She was telling me about her four year old grandson who was just diagnosed with muscular dystrophy and will probably be in a wheelchair by age 12. She gave me a diagram of how children with MD tend to get up from the floor, using their hands because of muscular damage to their legs. Her point was that her grandson had been doing that, and it was one of the things that tipped off the doctor to have him tested for MD. She wanted me to print the diagram with the story, and she said, "If other people see this, and they see a child doing this, they'll know something might be wrong." That was when I knew that this was more than getting people to donate to the Muscular Dystrophy Association or have sympathy for an unfortunate little boy. This was a way to potentially help someone make their life better by having all the information. I'm going to try to remember that on all my assignments.)

happy birthday to me...

So, 25. I really can't believe I'm 25. Not that I think it's that old because I really don't, but it's just a surreal milestone. Knowing that my early 20s are over and it's already been four years since I turned 21 is just crazy. In some ways, however, I can believe it. So damn much has happened in the past few years that I can definitely believe I've reached 25. But it has gone by pretty fucking fast. And it seems like a slippery slope from here. I don't mean that in a negative way, but if I think about how far away 25 felt when I turned 20, it did eventually get here. And kind of soon, even. That just reinforces that 30 will be here someday, then 35, 40, etc. But there's no use worrying about that. Who cares? I resolve to be happy and live life to the fullest (as cheesy as that sounds) at any age. And living life to the fullest I think means different things at different stages in life. Living life to the fullest to me now means something totally different to me now than it did at 21. For example, part of living life to the fullest is throwing myself into my job and doing my best, not sleepwalking through it because I'm hungover.

This is the best place I've been in my life in several years. Most stable, anyway. Maybe that's because your frontal lobe is supposedly fully developed by the time you turn 25. Who really knows?

It's been really nice to hear from old friends today. It makes me feel less alone in the somewhat isolated existence I lead. I can't say I have no regrets, but I'm definitely optimistic. I started my day this morning with my mom calling me (before my alarm went off) and singing "Happy Birthday" to me.

Now that I've gotten my bearings and celebrated an important milestone (because I'm sorry, even if I don't become legal to do something, 25 is still a milestone), I plan to throw myself into this new life chapter even more. That is all.

quiet awe

Ok, so I've fallen off the wagon with Project 365, but making yourself blog every single day is really too much. I think, as with everything else, I just need to find a balance. I want to blog much more regularly than I was before, but there's no need to do it everyday. I have a life, after all.

So last night, I drove to San Antonio on a whim to watch the meteor shower. I did not have to do it there, but a.) I didn't want to go traipsing off to the country in the early a.m. hours by myself, and b.) I was going to meet up with a friend in Corpus, but the forecast there wasn't as good, so San Antonio it was.

Lately, I haven't been as spontaneous as I used to be. I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing. I think there's something to be said for having a little bit (but not too much!) structure in one's life and doing wild, crazy things all the time. When I was doing that stuff, most of the time, I was having a lot of fun, but I was also really unhealthy. And after awhile, it's not even so fun anymore. I don't need to stay out till 4:00 in the morning for no good reason and then feel like crap for the next few days. I just don't. I mean the "just because I can" thing has gotten really old. I'm not 18 or 21 anymore. I feel like I definitely lived up those times in my life, and even though I fully plan to keep having awesome adventures that I hope will only get better with time, you just can't live like that forever.

That being said, what was cool about last night--well, the meteor shower in itself was pretty cool, so what was EXTRA cool about last night was that I DON'T do stuff like this all the time anymore, so it was even more fun. I planned it right too. I took a nap after work, drove to SA around dusk, stopped by my friend's place where we gathered essentials, picked up a couple of other people, and drove around outside the city till we found a nice dark place to park and look up at the stars. Before last night, I think I could probably count on one hand the number of shooting stars I've seen in my lifetime. Not anymore. It wasn't exactly like those photos you see where it just looks like there are comets raining down from the sky (I wish!). But we did see one or two every few minutes for a couple of hours, and it was fun to just gaze up and hope you caught the next one. It was a quieter kind of awe-inspiring experience.

And of course, in the meantime, it was nice to just be among good company, having real conversations with no electronics, no bar scene, nothing commercial, not even in view of the city. I'm tired today, but I'm definitely glad I went, even if it was too dark to capture a meteor in a photo. I guess that would've ruined the no-technology part of the evening anyway. It's nice to take advantage of these moments when they come along without running around like a chicken with your head cut off chasing them down.

behaving like a normal person

I'm really only writing today in order to keep up with Project 365. I am tired.

I'm excited because someone is coming to see me. She will be the second person to see my apartment. The first was my mom.

Well, my itunes addiction is alive and well. I have bought something like 4 albums in 4 days. Plus episodes of Entourage. Oh, well. As long as I can pay my bills, who cares how I spend my money, right? It's not like I'm buying drugs (although it is, in a way). The interesting thing about is that if I look back at my various music buying binges over the years, they tend to happen when I'm stressed out or displacing some kind of strong emotion. The thing now is that I don't really feel that stressed. If I am, I don't know what over. I'm trying really hard at my job, but it's all going well and I like the people I work with. I've recently achieved a lifestyle change in which I make healthy (but delicious!) meals at home rather than getting take-out. And I've exercised regularly for 3 weeks consecutively now, which is probably the longest I've gone without falling off the wagon in slightly over a year and a half. It's not even hard to do. Maybe I've finally reached a place where I can behave like a normal person.

I'm a little stressed--no, concerned--about the aftermath of the date I went on last weekend. As in, I'm worried there won't be one. Worried is even a strong word, though, because I don't feel that I need anyone. I didn't even want to date anyone at all until I met this person and really liked him. So I like him and I'll be disappointed if nothing further happens, but it won't be the end of the world like it used to be. I'm not going to spend hours wondering what's wrong with me or why I seemed to miss the guy-attracting gene. I don't need it. Anything in that area would just be a bonus to my already happy life. And if it wouldn't be a positive addition, it just won't be one.

Ok. That's all for today.

what's the rush?

One of the major things I'm working on right now is learning to slow down. I have this natural tendency to rush through everything, almost blindly, and just steamroll over everything I do as quick as I can. I'm thinking maybe that's not the best plan.

Here's an example. A couple of weeks ago, Jay (my editor) talked to the whole editorial staff (well, everyone who shoots photos, which is about 4 people, including him) about how we need to take better photos. He specified that he wasn't talking about action photos (I'm actually pretty good at those, as are Gus and Bryan). He was referring to artsy photos. You know, ones with mirror reflections and close-ups on people's tears and size illusions, etc., etc. Yeah, I will admit that I have zero ideas when it comes to those. I'm still getting the hang of proportions and lighting and camera settings in normal photos, let alone trying to do something creative. I want to learn though. It's just not easy for me. But I also need to learn how to really work on things I'm not naturally good at anyway.

So, how this is related to my need to slow down is that it never seems to occur to me to take my time and try out an artsy photo when I'm in the moment shooting. For instance, today, I was shooting photos of this really old historic house that's being renovated. I got plenty of shots of the house being painted and all that, but it didn't occur to me till I was driving back to the office that I probably could have tried something unusual. In my defense, the house was so torn up that it might not have been possible anyway. But the point here is that I didn't even think about it until it was too late. I'll have to try my hand at the artsy stuff tomorrow when I shoot marching band practice.

On a similar note, I have really been trying to be the best I can be at work. Yesterday, Jay was out so I didn't have him to turn to or ask questions. I got a lot done actually, and I was proud of myself. But here's an example of how I thought I was being really good and proactive and I totally didn't even think of everything. I got an email from the assistant superintendent about how the district ratings are in. She had done a nice write-up, and all I really had to do was edit it. But it didn't have any quotes, so I called her and asked her a couple of questions. The reason this was proactive of me was that no one asked me to do it. I took it upon myself. So I turned in the story. Well, today, Jay asked me to talk to the superintendent herself about it to add to it even more. I had thought about that yesterday, but the superintendent is brand new. She wasn't even here last year, so she had nothing to do with those ratings. Jay brought up that it would be interesting to get her perspective BECAUSE she's new and we could ask about her plans to improve (I did ask that question to the assistant). Well, that was a good point. So I called and asked for her but she's out till Thursday. Our paper, and this story, comes out on Wednesday. Good job, Sarah.

And, more than that, two of my bosses today asked me if I had found out about ratings for the other two districts in our county (which are both tiny). I hadn't, but only because I thought that we had already gotten them and those stories had run a couple of weeks ago. Apparently, that was something else.

So the moral of this story is that if I think things through a little further, maybe I can avoid some of these stupid mistakes. I know I'm still learning, and I have come lightyears from when I started already, and I've only been here 3 1/2 months. I just hate it when I try so hard to do a good job, my best even, and I still mess up or leave something out.

And really, what's the rush? It's not like school, where the sooner you got done, the sooner you could be free. This is life. It doesn't stop.

my sneaking suspicion

I have a sneaking suspicion that all that time Gus* (name changed because this is, after all, a published site) spends away from the office he is NOT covering stories.

Oh, sure, a lot of the time he is. He goes and gets the updates from the sheriff's office and the police department. But I also know that he's pretty chummy with those cops. So I bet a lot of that time is spent visiting. And I know he runs his errands during work hours (although we all do that). Maybe tomorrow I'll go out driving around looking for wild art (random pictures to put in the paper). In between the time I'm writing yet another uranium story, taking pictures of marching band practice, and laying out pages for Wednesday's issue.

So why do I suspect this about Gus, aside from the fact that I stretch my time away from the office too? Because my very first day, he spent the morning driving me around, introducing me to people and showing me important places. Very helpful, considerate, and even job-related. But did we actually cover anything that morning? No. And then, when I got robbed, he spent an afternoon driving me around to look at apartments. Helpful? Yes. Am I grateful? Of course. I guess the bottom line here is that Gus is pretty much his own boss and no one questions it when he is gone for hours at a time.

I don't think anyone questions when anyone is gone for hours at a time, for that matter. Jay (another name change) himself told me that I could take a long lunch once in awhile if I wanted and everyone would just assume I was out on assignment anyway. It's pretty laid back around here. Not that I am complaining. I pretty much have the perfect work environment. If I did have any complaints, I wish it was just a little busier. We have plenty of busy days, but also plenty of slow days in between. Of course, years from now, when I'm working at a bigger paper, hopefully one of the major ones, I'll probably long for the lazy days back in Beeville. Funny how that works.

It sure is a different world down here. I knew that, from my time living in Corpus. But I still had to get reacclimated after living back in civilization for a few years. I realized today that I have now lived here in Beeville for slightly longer than I lived in San Antonio. When September arrives, I will have been here longer than anywhere else I've been in the past year. And by November, I will have been here longer than anywhere else since I left Corpus in July 2008. Wow. I thought that would make me feel trapped, but (even though I definitely don't want to stay here forever) it actually makes me feel less out of control than I usually do. I say "usually," but maybe that's just because I've felt out of control during the past couple of years of bouncing around. Who knows. Anyway, that's all for today.

I'm on my way to believing

So last night I went on what was probably the least awkward date I've ever been on. That's really all I want to say about that at this time, partly because I don't want to jinx anything and partly because I don't know who actually reads this. I'll say a lot in writing, but some things are just TOO personal. Ok, but one more thing about it was I realized I don't have to hide some parts of my past that I think don't make me look that great. People understand when I tell them I left Korea early and chose to start my writing career. They also understand when I accidentally tell them a story about one of the drunkest nights of my life (this particular one was spraining my ankle on 6th street). Maybe all this means is that not everyone is as judgmental as I am. Or that I hold myself to a higher standard than I hold other people, or that anyone else will ever hold me to.

So I stayed at one of my oldest friend's houses this weekend. I don't like it, but we are very different people now. I mean, don't get me wrong, I like to party. But I don't feel the need to keep pretending I'm 18 and stay at house parties until 4 a.m. I mean, I'll go, have a few drinks, have a good time, and then go home and go to sleep. I'm sorry, I just don't want to feel like shit all week because of one night (I mean, if it's a special occasion, sure, but I save my party panties for nights that really deserve them now). The same goes for bars. I enjoy bars, but I don't need a marathon bar hop every weekend. I don't need to try to outdrink anyone or care if people are judging how much I am or am not drinking. I'm not going to pretend drunk driving doesn't bother me anymore. It does. I work at the news; I know how serious it is. I hear about every single fatal crash in 3 counties. No, thank you. I'm not 21. I don't think I need to act like I am.

I don't mean that to sound negative about this particular friend. I just find it hard to hang out with her for long periods of time now because it's almost like I'm not exciting enough for her and her group of friends. Maybe part of it too is that right now, I feel very content with who I am, where I am in my life, etc. And when she and I were a part of each other's daily lives (going all the way back to high school), I always, always felt like I was living in her shadow. She was faster and more athletic than me, she graduated one rank ahead of me, and she was the one the boys liked (maybe we spent TOO much time together back then). And even now, when I'm around her, even though she's a ton of fun to hang out with and knows me better than a lot of people, it's hard not to feel like no matter what, she's outdoing me in some way. I used to constantly compare myself to other people, and I've done a really good job recently of not doing that anymore, but when I'm around her, old habits die hard and sometimes I just have to ignore all the things about her and her life I could be jealous of.

I realize that in that last paragraph, I just exposed one of the darker sides of myself. I try not to censor, so that's going to happen sometimes. But I think I needed to get that out. It's been festering for awhile.

I'm still cautiously happy from my date last night. Hence why I quoted Paramore, one of my favorite bands, in the title of this entry.