Messages that make your day.

Dear Jessica,

Well done! Congratulations again.

This represents a lot of work. Can you do a follow-on series to document
the progress?

What is the possibility of your writing opinion columns for the next
semester? Can you do both at the same time?

Is one paid for both types of writing at your paper?

How do you obtain feedback from your readers?

Is there a group of colleagues on the "news side" of the paper that
regularly read and offer comment on your work?

Do you have a "news editor" that is one of the permanent staff of the paper?


Do you have a formal journalism class/club that, as a matter of practice,
reads and critiques the work of the membership?

There does come a time when you (and your work) come to a level of
maturity/accomplishment that your self-assessment becomes your best
standard. I assume that much of what you might receive from your readers is
in the category of approval/disapproval, not the critique of the format or
process used in generating the article.

Well, importantly, I am eager to learn more about your profession, one that
is as important as ever in undergirding our evolving democratic society.

As a society with all its warts and wounds and wrinkles, we shall be in very
good hands, if you, and others of similar mind, energy, experience, and
motivation, continue to hold the pen!

Admiration and Love,

Grandpa

Tis the season

I should be working on an essay, but I think it's important to take a moment to write when inspiration strikes.

I'm sitting at The Spoon with a hot cup of their amazing coffee (it's like I'm biting right in to a coffee bean, except there's no bitter aftertaste). It's snowing outside - small wet specks that stick to my clothes and leave me a drippy puddle when I walk in to a heated room. It's not really sticking to the ground much. There's a slight white layer, but I suspect it will be gone by this evening.
I just ate two over easy eggs, some toast and a few strips of greasy bacon. Now I'm full and sleepy. I wish today were like yesterday. Spencer and I slept in until noon and worked at our leisure. The absence of time constraints and pressure was nice, but today life is once again split in to chunks of time - the empty ones are the most valuable and yet I manage to fill them quite quickly.
The man next to me just got his food. He ordered a broccoli, bacon and cheese omelet and a pancake. He opened his napkin and spread it on his lap and let out a big sigh and looked at his food. Then he plunged his fork in to the omelet and began to eat.
I love breakfast. I love the smell of it and I love the time of day when it is eaten. Mornings are crisp and promising. The best days are when you have very little to do, at all. I like to spend those days in bookstores, scouring the shelves for interesting stuff. I usually don't buy much, but I sit for a long time. I think bookstores are some of the most comforting places for me. I can't wait to pick up a good book when the semester ends, when I actually have time for it.

Thanksgiving was nice. Most of the family was in Lafayette. Rikki brought her friend Haley. Uncle John was missing, though, as was Lindsey and the rest of the Massachusetts family. It seems nothing really changes at my Grandma's house. No matter how old I am, the feeling is always the same when I come home.

This is the season for comfort. Everyone is looking for a source of heat, and family can be such a fantastic way to stay warm.

I think this Winter will be okay. Probably it will be long, but okay. It's my last in Bloomington and I plan on making it a good one. The Union has lights that run up its side that when lit, look like candle sticks. I drove by them the other night and realized how much I'm going to miss this place. I've found so much of myself here. I know I'll be changing, but I really enjoy the person I've become in Bloomington.

Time for class.


Cheers.

Give thanks, give thoughts of peace.

I am not going to write about the things I'm thankful for because it's cliche. I know what I'm thankful for and it's all echoed in everyone else's list of gratitude. Instead, I want to take time to remind myself and any readers that while we celebrate our blessings, Mumbai is burning. I live a life of prosperity. I am wealthy in love and happiness. Juxtapose that with the images of destruction, hate and death flashing across our computer screens and televisions today, and remember that we are not separate from the rest of the world. Despite the oceans that surround us and the American nationalism that floods the country, we are all connected. It is utterly irresponsible to pretend like these horrible things aren't happening, because if our nation was attacked by organized terrorists, we would want the rest of the world to care, too. We should know that all too well. So, absolutely, be thankful for what you have, but try to put yourself in India for a moment and imagine the terror running through their veins and send some of your love there. Hold them in your hearts. Take a little bit of your own happiness and convert it to visualizations of peace for them. Here in America we have an abundance of so much, and today we celebrate the abundance of blessings we have. Let's share. Devote some of your thoughts and prayers to those enduring the wrath of terror elsewhere.

grumble and guff

Cold showers in late November sure wake you up. I was unpleasantly surprised by how quickly my lukewarm water turned ice cold this morning- in a record two minutes. I was so frustrated I cried. I didn't even have time to soap up. All I did was shampoo my hair and shiver.

This morning I had another cold awakening. I don't have money for rent. And I can say that honestly, it's not my fault. I worked Saturday and like any other Saturday, I should have made at least $100. Instead, I walked in 10 minutes late on accident, making it the first time I've been late in over two years. I was insulted when, as punishment, one of my managers took me off tables and made me do support work (bus, run food, host). Insulted because there is only one other server who has been there longer than me, I am one of their best sellers, and I'm a hard worker. Instead of making any money in tips, I got paid minimum wage from 8 to 2, and I don't get that money for another two weeks. I think it's a little unfair. I think it's really unfair, actually, because that threw a wrench into my entire monthly budget. You can't just take a server off tables when their only income is money they get from tips. All because I was there at 7:40, not 7:30. I think the Deli is relatively corrupt, and a majority of the people working there are entirely too wrapped up in the job. I don't want drama when I go to work, I want to make money. It will be nice when I'm out of there, I guess.

Thankfully, I have a family that supports me when I need them to. I think I've done a pretty good job trying to ween myself away from using their money unless I really need it. I pay for my gas, my utilities, my food and groceries, my clothes, and almost half my rent. I don't pay for school or books or insurance or my phone. In time, I suppose. Spencer offered to help spot me for rent and I just about melted. What a guy.

I am drinking a new kind of Yogi Tea called Mexican Sweet Chili. It's got a kick to it that tingles my taste buds. It's a warming tea, good for cold mornings like today.

Thanksgiving is Thursday and I'll most likely spend most of my break doing homework and writing papers. I've got a huge research paper due in two weeks that I haven't had time to start (honestly). Usually I'd say that just to relieve myself of responsibility, but I actually haven't had any time to sit down and do research. Between writing three to four articles a week for the IDS, busy work for classes and closing the Deli two nights a week, making my way to the library has taken to the back burner. But I look forward to sitting in a corner window at Vienna Cafe this week and writing, feeling warm and nostalgic. I really love the Holidays.

I remember last year when the first heavy snow fell and we went sledding over on 17th street in the middle of the night. Afterwards we came back to the Henderson house and drank hot cocoa. I still have that sled in my trunk.

I am making more fond memories with friends, although they seem to come less often. We are all so busy and hardly see one another, so when we find time to spend all together, it's really a treat. Dave Chale came to town for the BratPack Thanksgiving last Thursday. When he walked in the door I almost cried. It was so good to see him and it brought back a lot of fond memories from two years ago. I really missed Welder and Stacy and the way there used to be five of us. I miss feeling like a family. But, I don't think any of us are any less fulfilled nowadays. We've supplemented; some of us have more school work, others have relationships, and others are across the country living out their dreams in L.A. (Cory). But we still love each other and the family we were. We talked with Dave about what happened two years ago and why. For me, it felt really nice to talk about it because it's been a really taboo topic for a really long time, and we'd never had insight from Dave's perspective. I have to be honest with myself: I will miss Sarah Welder until I don't. I know very little about who she is anymore, but she was my friend, and it's hard to let go of friendships that end for no good reason.



Honestly, I've been feeling restless. I want to see new things and be uncomfortable. I've been back in my comfort zone for too long and I'm getting bored. I want to travel. I want new scenery. I want new food and new parks and new buildings and new acquaintances. I don't ever want to feel stagnant. There is a lot out there and I've hardly seen any of it. How could anyone be expected to be content with that.

More images that make me happy

It sure is cold outside. I don't think we'll see any more warm days, and my plants are slowly dying. I'd keep them for the winter, but I just don't have any windows with the necessary amount of sunlight. That's okay, it's time to let go of them, anyway.

I sat down with a group of ritzy women in the breakfast nook of the Bryan House today. The Bryan House is where the McRobbies live (they are the presidential family of IU). These women all work for the McRobbie family and are participating in the "Food Stamp Challenge", and will be eating on $21 this week. It was strange to sit around a table with older women in pearls and suits and listen to them talk excitedly about the challenge ahead of them this week. They said each of them had, at one point or another, been on food stamps or welfare.

One woman, named Tami, said she was the "kid" of the group. She is like me and needs a daily dose of sweets, and she drools over red velvet pound cake (with cream cheese icing). I liked her.

I was on campus today from 11:15 until 7:30. Tomorrow promises to be just as long of a day, only I start earlier. I have an exam on Wednesday, the BratPack Thanksgiving dinner to attend and cook for on Thursday, and Spencer's birthday on Friday. Next week is the real Thanksgiving, and it's about time we all get a break. I can't believe how quickly time has gone by this semester. We only have a few weeks left, and it's certainly crunch time. I have so many projects due and essays to write. Applications are going out for next semester's desk editors at the Indiana Daily Student and I wish I could apply. I finally feel like I fit in there, but I am limited by their competition - The Herald Times - which I am writing for next semester. Oh well. The HT will be great experience among older mentors, and I think it will give me some room to really do what I want.

I put up some Christmas lights last night. I can't wait to go buy a tree, although I don't have stand. Hmph. I really enjoy living alone, although I don't think I would have last year or the year before. It takes a certain level of comfort to live by yourself and come home to no one. I really like my space, though, so it suits me. And the BratPack has dispersed a lot this year, so it's not like I'm outside the hub of activity. I haven't seen Jersey in like two weeks, and I rarely see Alison. Cory is gone forever in California (and hopefully not being consumed by the raging fires!), Megan and Stacy are on the other side of town, and we all have schedules that make it hard to even stop for coffee.

Sigh. Big. Sigh.

My, how things have changed this year. My, how graduation is creeping up quickly. I'm not sure how I'll identify myself when I can no longer say I'm a student.

Responsibility! Opportunity! Intimidation! Books! I'll probably do a lot of leisure reading, because I've been so limited to text books and essays lately. If I ever get new glasses.

What a nerve-racking change of identity it is to go from student to member of the real world (although, I think it's all a matter of perspective). I'm worried if I don't get a job, I'll feel I've come to a dead halt. That's when I start to get depressed - when I feel I'm working towards nothing. I think that's why I'm so interested in journalism. There is an undertone of CHANGE THE WORLD, ONE READER AT A TIME! Progress. Journalism = progress? Indeed.









Remember the fortune cookie and its prediction?

My friend Gregg got the same one. What a buzz kill.

Prophets

Last night Spence and I went out for Chinese food at Chow Bar on Indiana. I had crab rangoon and shrimp lo mein. He had the general's chicken. It was so delicious and filling, but entirely too much, so we got take home boxes.

The waiter brought us our fortune cookies, which, by the way, have apparently been upgraded to chocolate. I opened mine up and just about lost it when I read what it had to say.

You will become an accomplished writer.

oBAMa

And another one

It's raining. I've spent the day on the phone with sources, jotting down scribbles of information, gathering facts, listening and thinking and stressing out about all the things I have yet to do but have been sitting on my "to do" list for a week.

Obama was elected two days ago. For people my age, this is a chance to feel like your country is your friend. When I first started to show interest in politics, Bush was in office. I've learned almost everything I know about government and politics with Bush and his administration as my teacher. I've spent so much time looking elsewhere for answers about what a leader should look like. I've never known to be proud of my President until now. There are those who lived when the U.S. was a beacon of hope for the rest of the world and there are those, like me, who have never felt anything but embarrassed and ashamed of their own nationality.

Things can change and hope is alive and it will not be beaten down by those too scared to embrace it. There is only fear and love, and although it may take some time to pry ourselves away from the fear we've been taught to hold to in times of uncertainty, we will learn to love and we will be bold again.

Tuesday night was like New Year's Eve. Everyone stopped what they were doing to huddle around the television like the ball was dropping. I don't know if I'll ever forget that moment. He came on stage and he addressed millions of people and he united them all. And we all choked up a bit, realizing that our dream really had come true.