Runey Booney Waters

Jethro has been tilting his head left and right, constantly. He watches out the car window and instructs me to take side streets, searching for his next frame. I can see his wheels turning; everything is a rectangle.

Ladies and gentleman: The Camera has arrived.

To infinity, and beyond

January first, two years ago, I was laying in my bed on 11th street racking my brain for a list of things I wanted to improve or accomplish the next year. On my stomach, pen in my hand, I remember vividly staring at my turquoise bound journal completely uncertain of what I wanted to etch into stone. And like most profound moments in my life it hit me calmly: This year I am going to do everything I want to do. If I decide I don't want to attend class, I will stay home. If my body says it wants chocolate cake at 3 a.m., we'll get it. If my body wants to run, we'll go, and if my body wants to sleep in until noon, we will. I listened to my instincts and I will remember that year as one of the most content periods in my life.

I'm writing this because I have spent more than a healthy amount of time trying to figure out what it is that I am going to do post graduation. Do I want to get a journalism job? Do I want to be a journalist? Do I want to move? How can I use the skills I have learned to make money and also be completely happy and fulfilled? And while I have asked myself all of these questions (plus 257 others) there are a few things I am certain I want.

1. To be madly in love [check]
2. To travel
3. To write
4. To perform numbers 1, 2 and 3 simultaneously.

There are times when I look inward and find the signs have been present all along and I nearly apologize to the Universe aloud for not putting the puzzle together earlier. We all get gut feelings. I rarely act on mine, shoving them into my mental filling cabinet under "To Remember for Later." But last night I knew. I knew when the words "Do exactly what you want to do." left Augusten's mouth, that I was at the right place at the right time. And even if that message has entered by brain a million times, last night I felt confident beginning to craft an action plan.

The dark side

I have become obsessed with blogging; not the act of doing so, but reading!

This is a BIG deal. Basically, this blogging concept is looking to destroy the foundations of excellent journalism. Four years ago when I began this sleep-deprived (have I already mentioned this?) coma that is college, "blogger" was equivalent with "fanatical basket-case who has no value within the journalism profession". And now, LEGIT journalists are trying to prove that TWITTER and FACEBOOK can work parallel with LEGIT journalism, and are even encouraging news organizations to incorporate these means of communication. One could say I had a minute problem with this. My initial feelings were rooted here: Perhaps the easiest way to destroy a group of people is to control their information, and I feel pretty strongly about not allowing this to happen.

Unfortunately, one of the things I've learned while earning my BAJ is that the Internet has allowed a plethora of views to pass off as truth, and most people are completely satisfied consuming SHITTY, SHITTY (BANG, BANG) information. Why don't we just do away with all those ethics? Who needs fair, balanced and accurate information anyway? I mean, all of Australia is okay with this! Just ask Rupert Murdoch; he's rolling around in their (and our!) nonchalance. And people, there is nothing that I hate more than looking at biased information. Hello Fox News. What a bunch of CRAP-OLA.

I've changed my ways, if only until I see what the Internet REALLY does to the journalism profession in, say, ten years. Until then, bring on the lunatics and fanatics. If you've got an opinion, get it, GIRRRRRL.


For the record, I am mildly afraid that the journalism gods are going to strike me down as I'm clicking "PUBLISH POST"; that in some way, this submission to the Internet is going to haunt me for the rest of my life. This is worse than my recent conversion from PC to Mac. But you know what they say: Once you go Mac, you never go back. Wait.. What?

Growing Pains

University students around the world are getting asked the same question:

What is your major?

Followed by,

Ohhhhh, what are you going to do with that?

Here is the deal. I walked up to Jethro yesterday and very seriously looked him in the eyes and said, “Honey, I think I want to be a housewife.” And I’m not trying to get political or harm and deep-rooted feminists, but that is my way of saying “I effing quit!”

Graduate school seems ANNOYING and believe me, that is among the nicer of the adjectives. But I haven’t ruled it out for the future. Getting a job seems SUPER ANNOYING, because I like to take vacations and sleep in and I just can’t really be tied down right now, you know? The truth is, I’m not even looking for a real job at the moment. I’m leaning more toward the idea of taking out mass amounts of loans and buying round trip plane tickets to ANYWHERE.

What do you do with a college degree anyway? Hang it on your wall with pride, showcasing to the entire world that you haven’t slept for four years and you will not, so help you God, forget AP Style?

College education may have its paybacks, but it sure is a pain the ass. Nearly four years in, and I don’t know what I’m doing in six months so stop asking. I’ll buy the freaking T-shirt if I have to: IDK WTF 2 DO. C YA!

The Art of Public Speaking

It is my last semester and I'm finally being forced to take the dreaded speech class. I have been enrolled on two other occasions, both instances resulting in a withdrawal after hearing that the number of speeches we were going to be required to give was more than zero. Speech class is terrible for a number of reasons, first being that I LOATHE speaking in front of groups and second, that I REALLY LOATHE speaking in front of groups. But the journalism department did not ask me before they added it to the required courses.

Besides existing, the other dumb thing about speech class is that the book is $130. Yeah. One-hundred and thirty dollars for a speech book. Because I already bought the stupid thing, I decided to give it a go and opened to chapter one. I was also motivated by the fact that it was assigned and I am a good student who always does their reading homework. Ha-Ha. After flipping through the first three chapters, all of which were BOR-ING, the book's worthlessness began oozing. Twelve pages on how to be a good listener? Eight on the difference between a conversation and public speaking? The history of public speaking? Let me guess, once upon a time Joe Smith invented the voice, the hill and the crowd and he stood on that hill, used his voice and the crowd listened! I knew it.

And the next time I get confused and think I'm having a conversation when I'm actually in front of the classroom giving a speech, I'll let you know that I'm DEAD.

Let the good times roll

Saturday was a fantastic evening filled with sushi, bowling, milk and food coloring experiments, good conversation, good friends and HOORAY- THE COLTS WON! Chardonnay, Sake, Blue Moon and Sailor Jerry were also involved, the perfect ingredients for a good time and a colossal headache Sunday morning. Oh, the prices we pay!

At one point we were sitting at our favorite sushi location waiting for half time, conveniently full and happy in a way only Sake can create, when I swear to God the Japanese employee stood up, leaking with excitement and shouted, "THIS IS AMERICA! YOU HAVE TO LOVE FOOTBALL!" Fist in the air and all.

iPhone documented fun:

Citizen of the planet

Jethro and I are sitting in bed, both on our laptops with my iPhone and his iPod touch between us, and I cannot imagine the utter devastation that is currently being experienced in Haiti. I cannot. With all of this technology, fortune and bliss at my fingertips, I cannot understand how such a catastrophic event can strike and completely annihilate an area. It is not fair. And money, is money, is money, is money... but sometimes it is the only means available to assist. While I don't have time or canned beans to send, I'm going to donate the money I plan to make at work tomorrow to the Red Cross because hey, I have a place to work and I know where all my family members are and I know where my next drink is coming from.

planes, trains and automobiles

It was a mutual decision between Jethro and I to recognize New Years Eve as our anniversary... because hello, we HAD to choose a date so I had an annual excuse to ask for a nice dinner and some jewelry. (KIDDING.) Alas, a year has gone by and I am not sure the first few weeks in January will come again without me pondering the beginning of 2009. So many events and activities filled the last year, and I cannot believe Jethro and I were so lucky to endure most of them together. Collectively, we have taken

34 flights
3 train rides
4 road trips

visiting over 25 cities, three islands and spanning three countries. I almost calculated the miles we crossed but gave up. I smile with disbelief when I consider those numbers, and remember that we have been LUCKY, LUCKY, LUCKY. I am constantly trying to plan our next adventure, refusing to admit that I have already racked up enough travel points for the next five years. Who wants to go to Denmark? I hear Egypt is nice this time of year.

Yesterday I made Jethro and I sit down and make a budget for the next year. Next thing you know I'll be hoarding Subway napkins in my glove compartment for an emergency spill and stocking my house with flashlights and AA batteries. What can I say? I'm 21 going on 40. After some grumbling, Jethro decided this was a good idea. This brings me to a very important point. Where I am unorganized, Jethro holds it together. Where Jethro is unorganized, I am anal retentive. Balance, people, that's what it's all about. The hokey pokey is for lunatics. And skating parties.

What I'm trying to say is that this year is going to be way more focused on getting down to business. I am going to graduate, and have I mentioned how excited I am to seek a real job? HAHA. Regardless, it will undoubtedly be one of the defining events of this coming year. I am excited (an anxious and terrified!) to see where this accomplishment takes us. Or if we decide to move for Jethro's studies, that will be excellent too. Either way, I think it is going to be an interesting year, one of those "defining years" in the scrapbook, if you will, and I'm ready for all the changes in the world.

Maybe I shouldn't have gone that far.

Afternoons with Rune and Mara

Pondering a recent visit to Jethro’s sister, I was fairly certain I had located that far away, deep down maternal instinct that might one day convince me to reproduce. Her kids are darling, incredibly well behaved, polite and happy. Because Jethro has started working full time, he is gone during the day and I am usually home with Rune. Rune has decided that because it is so fucking cold outside, he wants to use the bathroom ten times a day, including super convenient times such as in the middle of the night and when I am about to eat lunch.

Normally bathroom time for Rune includes opening the door, coaxing him through the doorframe (I’d hate small spaces too if I was a former race dog) and shutting the door. Because poor Runey Booney is in the process of passing heart worms, he needs to be taken out on a leash to hinder his instincts to jump around and thus causing one of the worms to get caught... causing a clot. So instead of six seconds of uncomfortable chills, I must get dressed in full out cold weather armor just so he can spend his time finding some nice blades of grass to piss on. Rune, just so you know, I am on your side! I would be mad too if daddy moved me to the Midwest from sunny North Carolina.

Rune has also decided that yelping and crying are perfect ways to get my attention. Because the combination is so annoying, I will take him outside just to get him to shut up. This is especially effective when I am trying to sleep in. Rune knows this would not fly with Jethro who would definitely tell him to LAY DOWN, to which he would loyally comply. But Rune knows I am a push over and always plays his cards right

To get me back, after ONLY taking him out THREE times in a five hour span, he takes a huge shit in the middle of the living room to show his disappointment and neglect. This week I’ve even let Rune break his post-heartworm shot rules, allowing him out of confinement and into the rest of the house as long as he doesn’t try and touch his nose to the ceiling and doesn’t tell dad! Rune, dad is GOING TO KNOW I let you out if you poop on the first floor!

Do you see where I am going here?

Those maternal thoughts got flushed down the toilet real fast.

Home Experiments

A few days ago I was telling Jethro how I had spent twenty minutes that afternoon trying to find the best way to extract the seeds from a Clementine without loosing too much juice and making the least amount of mess possible. I was brought into this situation after wrongfully thinking it was a good idea to bring the small orange into my room and to eat it in my bed. After I excitingly put the first bite in my mouth, sans looking for seeds, I was pissed off after biting into three. Hence, I began my search for the best de-seeding method.

If you must know, the best way to get the seeds out of your Clementine is to gently push one of the seeds down and out of the thinner part of the “skin” (which can be found on the sides) and to follow by applying pressure to the others, which will happily follow. This only took me one whole Clementine to discover… yes, that is ten pieces. You’ll thank me for this information later.

Jethro thought this was more than mildly hilarious and said, “Babe, you really need a blog again.” I’m not sure if that was a compliment or a nice way of saying, “You are the weirdest person on the planet and it needs documented.”

But here we go.