Coming home
The best thing about coming home is knowing it will always be home.
I’ve been in Illinois for the past six months, and I’ve finally come home to Louisiana for a week to spend time with my family and friends. I've never gone this long not seeing my family—friends, yea—but not the fam.I’d never really missed my family when I was in college. I was only 2 and a half hours away, and I’d come home once a month and see them,but it always seemed more like a chore. But this time, I was very very eager to come home.
The warm weather, the food, the laughter, the warm weather,the accents, the hugs—did I mention the warm weather? Lol. In Illinois, it is rainy/freezing and cold, like cold-cold. The week before the week I left, I experienced my first snow and ice storm. I had to drive in snow. I woke up in the morning and it was 3 degrees.Three. Three. I worked my booty off to get all of my work done so that I wouldn’t have anything to worry about during my week home.
And I get here and the environment here is wet, 50-70 degrees and everything is dead—just as it should be in Louisiana in December.So great 
Good God. My co-workers will not be able to understand me when I get back. I catch myself sounding more and more Cajun as the week goes,and I love it. I’m excited about all of the Louisiana gifts I bought for my co-workers. Chocolate covered pecans, Community Coffee and Tony Chachere’s Creole Seasoning—I know how to pass a good time, yea.
The past few days have been great—hanging out with the family, exchanging gifts with friends, relaxing and eating, a lot. My mom has cooked gumbo sausage and vegetable soup, but she also plans to make me an okra gumbo and then a stuffed chicken and rice dressing. I’ve also been filling up on Spicy McChickens, Sonic Dr. Pepper and mozzarella sticks, Southside Bakery hamburgers and Raising Canes Chicken Fingers. I’m going to gain 10 pounds this week.
Looking at the days I’ve had thus far, I can happily admit that I don’t want to go back to work, but I wouldn’t want to stay here. Rayce and I talked about being in my college town, and how college was great—but we’ve moved past that now. It was good while it lasted, but now we’re on to bigger and better things. I’m going to miss always miss Louisiana, but that doesn’t mean I want to stay here.
One of the sadder parts of this week is saying goodbye to my friends. Mostly Leigh, because I’m used to saying goodbye to my old high school friends and seeing them months in between, but I’m not used to that with Leigh.It was sad to leave her today after hanging around her, but what was great about it was that it felt like it was just yesterday since I had last seen her.
It’s like that with the friends that I take time to see—Alyssa,Hannah and Gavin who I will see later this week. You don’t have to see each other every day, and you can go a few months without talking—but when you’re together—it’s like nothing ever changed. Those are the keepers there, sha.
I know it’s going to be hard saying goodbye to my family on Saturday, but it must be done. I can’t only pray that my mom gets a job soon and will be able to afford to come see me for a change. I only have a limited supply of vacation days from work, so I can only travel here to see them every six months. I’ve done it once before, but I really don’t want to do it again.
That goes for my other significant people *cough, cough,Leigh, cough, cough*. Alyssa’s boyfriend is stationed in Missourri, so we’ve discussed meeting up in St. Louis one day, but I’m not sure if that will come to fruition. Hannah has the bebe, so that’s probably never going to happen.Gavin and Ben could possibly be in Chicago for some reason one day, and I could see them that way.
I’m so thankful for the time I’ve had to spend with my family and friends. You never really know how much they mean to you until you can’t be with them as easily as you wish.
Now that I have a job
You know I’m kind of embarrassed that I haven’t updated this blog in so long. Now that I have a job writing, I kinda forget to do it for enjoyment. So I apologize. But let me explain why:
I never could have anticipatedthe last month of my life. I’m the education reporter for a new media company located more than an hour away from Rayce. I got a cheap apartment here to stay up during the week, and I go to his house on the weekends. I also try to go home once a week if I can. It helps the week go by so much faster that way.
But yea, I thought being an education reporter in this somewhat sleepy little town would be fun and kinda easy… Then, one month into my professional journalism career and the high school teachers go on strike.
My world was thrown upside down. I no longer got to do fun little features for the print product. My main concern was current updates on negotiation numbers, the union said this and the board of education said that, teacher rallies and student rallies and AAAAHHHHHH! I had people following me on Twitter as I updated them on how negotiations were going. During that 10 hour meeting, I really wished I wouldn't have started Tweeting about the mediator walking back and forth, but that's all there was. And people loved it.
Then, the superintendent of the high school committed suicide. Woah. He was honestly the nicest source I had. He'd always returned my phone calls and emails, always answered my questions without a sense of formality, even offered me water whenever I interviewed him. He was just an all around nice guy. No one, besides his closest friends I'm sure, had any idea what kind of pain he was hiding behind his smile.
I had to cover his funeral. Needless to say I wasn't too comfortable with that, but I did it anyway. I paid my respects to him during his wake, kind of apologizing for having to work his funeral. I tried to be as discrete as I could during the church ceremony. The next day when the pastor called me to thank me for the story I did, I cried.
After his death, the strike just had a bad aura to it, and it really needed to end for the sake of the community, but it lasted another two weeks.
This community has been through so much, and I did my best to provide them with the information they needed. I gained a lot of respect by working so hard, and the bonds I've made with people are incredible. I love my job. I don't like how exhausted it makes me, or how I seldom get a break, or how mad Rayce'll get at me for taking it— but I love it.
The strike ended just this past Monday, thank God. It lasted three and a half weeks. My editor gave me a big hug for breaking the story the night before. I felt like a rockstar, because I was the first medium to announce it was over. Oh yea, that was me.
I'm thankful for the strike, because it pushed me. It made me think deeper and write faster. When you HAVE to finish a story in 30 minutes or the whole print product will be late, you write. No questions. You just do it.
It also was a blessing in that it got our little newspaper noticed by the community it serves. People came to us for the news. Not the long-established traditional newspaper here— us, the new guys.
So hopefully now that things have slowed down, I'll be able to take more time to build my blog. I have stories to tell, now that I'm actually out of the house.
Next up is how terrified I am of the upcoming winter, and how there are leaves everywhere up here!
Geese-- a reminder of the impending winter
That's when I realized that the sound I was hearing was the beginning of geese flying south for the winter. In a few months, the same geese I heard this morning will be settling in the field outside of my Louisiana bedroom window, squawking until their little hearts are content. And in a few months I will be shivering my little booty off, wishing I was one of those geese I heard this morning.
My boyfriend and I can feel winter coming. It's sly, the little devil. It's still sunny alright, but the breeze— the breeze has a slight chill. It's almost teasing in a way.
The high on Friday was 72. Crazy for August, I know. I wore a long sleeve shirt tonight to see "Inglorious Basterds." These simple facts are the coming of winter.
The geese can feel it too, that's why they're flying the fuck out of here... I like-a to say, holy crap. Holy, holy, holy, holy, holy, holy CRAP.
Dancing on the Ceiling
Let me repeat that, so it can sink in properly...
I GOT A JOB!!!!!!!!!!!
Yea, that's better
I've actually had this job for two weeks now. I was hired on the spot, like right after my interview. It's all kind of a blur now...
**commence dreamy flashback sequence**
I was called on a Wednesday and was completely flabbergasted that anyone was calling me about a job, let alone the one job description I remember getting excited over. The guy on the line had a good voice and seemed almost sincere and completely honest about journalism in its current state. Then he told me it was a start-up. I'd be there from the beginning, which is a thought that I loved.
Then he told me I was on the top of his list to hire.... EEERRRKKK, stop. What? Why? When he told me that, I really started to doubt this guy's legitimacy. Plus his name was Steve, the big-boss's name was Steve, and they were located on Stevenson Rd... Seriously?
I told him I'd meet him on Friday, which gave me a whole day to freak out, get my clippings ready (which he didn't even look at b/c I sent some writing samples in with my resume and cover), get the directions in order and research as much as I could about the town. Plus plan out what I was going to wear. (Sorry if my girliness offends you. Get over it.)
I made out a list of like 10 questions to ask during the interview, none of which asked about pay. From my research on "how to do well for a job interview," I learned to wait until the boss brings it up. Well in this case— the editor.
When I got there, Steve the Editor was on his cellphone outside smoking a cigarette. He looked like the picture I found on Linked-In (which I found the day before when I Googled his name), so I knew I was in the right place. He shook my hand, led me to his office where they had just finished putting up the molding (yea, it's that much of a start up), and he told me to ask whatever questions I had. My questions took up one hour. His took 5 minutes. It was one question, which caught me— like, complete deer-in-headlights moment.
He said, and this is me paraphrasing of course. "Ok, so you get here on your first day of work, and we have to put out content by the end of the day. What do you do?"
Damn. I should have been prepared for this one.. F... Ok, bullshit— here we go. I pretty much said something... about like the unemployment rate... calling people with my beat.... and that was it.
I'm still not even sure what made him decide to hire me. (Steve the Editor told me later that the one thing he highlighted from my resume was "Editor in Chief." Thank God that year of hell was worth something!!!) But after we talked about salary, we were hungry so he took me downtown for lunch.
This is when things got awesome. He drove me to the downtown area, and we talked the entire time— me asking questions and what not. When he parked downtown, there was this one moment that could not have played out better if he tried.
So in the park, there was this book fair, which was so cute. He took me around the fountain to show me where the Douglass and Lincoln debate took place (which the town marked with a lovely boulder). As we were rounding the corner of the fountain, music started playing from this stage where the local dance studio students were performing. It's was Lionel Richie "Dancing on the Ceiling." Like right as we rounded the corner, BOOM— music. Awesome!
Then he took me to this really cute diner (where I ate the blandest hamburger in my life), and he told me that I didn't have to worry b/c I pretty much got the job! PHEW!
When I drove back that day, I was pretty much in a daze. I couldn't believe it!
So that's how I got my first real job. After being miserably unemployed for two months, something came up just like everybody said. Sure, it's an hour and 15-20 minutes away from where I'm currently residing with my boyfriend, but it's worth the drive. Hopefully I can find somewhere to stay in the town (only during the week) by winter, so I won't have to make the trek in the snow. That would so suck.
Real quick though, here are a few things I've learned over the past two weeks:
1. Double pane windows exist to keep out the cold, because it gets THAT FREAKIN COLD HERE.
2. If you're not on Twitter as a media professional, you're considered uncool.
3. No relationship is as strong as you think it is.
4. Always, no matter what, Spell Check. For the love of Mike, always Spell Check.
5. Never serve cheesecake at a "Preventing Childhood Obesity" seminar, because all of my friends will laugh at you.
Rocky, oh the Horror
I'm watching "Rocky Horror Picture Show" right now, realizing that the only reason this movie is as popular as it is (it's a cult classic, Rayce, even though you've never heard of it) that people are drawn to absurdity/sexual promiscuity.
"Let's do the Time Warp again!"
Possibly people enjoy weird stuff b/c it's so out there and takes them away from their mundane lives. Secretly attracted to men dressed as women? Oddly aroused by a sequenced-covered tap dancer? Secretly want to be a sequence-covered tap dancer? Yea, this movie has it all.
"Hey, any you guys know how to do the Madison?!"
I first watched "Rocky Horror" when I was in the 7th grade. It was on TV and I was interested. My mom rented it later. I had no freakin clue what the hell was going on.
"I'm just a sweet transvestite... from transsexual Transylvania."
Then I watched it when I was in high school and realized it was a very sexually strange movie, and that all the Speechies loved it. I was drawn to its weirdness and Dr. Frank-N-Furter... That and I never knew Susan Sarandon could look so young (I was 15, what do you expect? I was just realizing that old people really used to be young people).
"In just seven days, I can make you a man"
I watched it again in early college, and the fact that Janet's bra fit didn't fit her right bothered me throughout the entire movie! It rides up her back— the proper way to correct that would be to get a tighter band and probably up the cup size. Because the cup of a 34 C is the same size as the cup on a 32 D, but I digress.
Enter Meatloaf.
Why does he kill Eddie? In all of the times I've seen this, I've never fully understood that part. Is it because he likes girls? Well that's not his fault. He was born that way.
"Ttttttttouch me. I want to feel dirty"
But main part of this movie that troubles me is when Janet sleeps with Rocky. She does it to get back at Brad for cheating on her with Dr. Frank-N-Furter, but she slept with Dr. Frank-N-Furter too! Dr. Frank-N-Furter sneaks into both of their rooms. He does Janet, and then slips into Brad's room. But Janet feels really awful about giving her virginity to the seven-foot man dressed in a corset and tights and calls himself a doctor. But then she finds out that Brad cheated on her too. So she justifies that she would get back at Brad and Dr. Frank-N-Furter by sleeping with Rocky... Well that and she was obviously horny.
Janet!... Dr.Scott!... Janet!... Brad!... Rocky! *silently looks*— Repeat 3 times.
Dude, people do that sh** for real. Justify their way into thinking what they're doing is ok. I'm sure this scenario has existed in real life, one way or another. That whole mind-set of "he cheated on me, so it's ok for me to cheat on him." (No, it's not. Now get back in your cage.) This movie acts as an example of how emotionally screwed up people can get themselves. Well that, and what happens when you create a blond stud-muffin and invite a bunch of squares into your house in order to corrupt them.
"You better wise up, Janet Weiss."
So really, this movie is a favorite for many because of its emotional retarded-ness, sexual nature, and catchy musical numbers that can't help but get stuck in your head. Admit it, you're singing the above bolded line, aren't you?
"You're a hot dog!"
So I guess the main lesson to be learned from this movie is that it's ok to fly your inner freak flag once in a while.
"Don't dream it. Be-e it."
Omg, I forgot they're aliens... Yea, I'm never watching this movie again.
Eharmony-- only for the good-looking ones
But then I realized that those two are good-looking for TV, but kinda odd-looking for everyday. Because they are the opposites of each other. Not that they're unattractive, they're just a little funny together b/c of the comparable mouth to nose ratio.
Ok, so that thought led me to this thought— why the hell are we still seeing the same people in the eHarmony commercials? If the site was working as well as they claim, shouldn't there be another couple's story to tell like at least every six months?
And then that thought led me to this sucker— Maybe it's only the good-looking couples that get their stories turned into a commercial. Because let's be honest, no one would care to see the story of how Mr.Cross-eyed and Ms.Hair-lip got together. That's just not good TV.
So to my final conclusion— eHarmony must be filled with a bunch of average/unattractive people for them to only put out 3 commercials every 2 years. I guess the "Made for TV" faces are few and far between.
God, I need a job....
Laugh like no one can hear you
Anyhoo, last weekend we saw "ICE AGE 3: Dawn of the Dinosaurs." (Which now I get that song "Everybody walk the dinosaur... Boom, boom, chaka-laka-laka boom" caught in my head at least once a day. Ha, I probably did it to you) It was bloody fantastic! We didn't see it in 3D though, b/c I'm a wimp and 3D freaks me out.
We went to a late viewing of the movie, so it was a pretty small theater. By the time the previews started, there were only two other couples besides us. They both seemed around our age, maybe a little older. So it's one couple way at the top, Rayce and I in the middle, and another couple closer to the screen. Big emptiness... And two other couples. I must admit, it was kinda weird. It's like I almost didn't want to laugh too hard in fear that they would hear me.
You see, the great thing about seeing a movie with a whole bunch of people in it is that you don't stand out (except when I do my throat-laugh-thing). You're laughing just as hard as the guy next to you. But in this case, Rayce and I definitely stood out.
The couple in front of us didn't laugh. Like at all. They either didn't laugh or they laughed really low, b/c we couldn't hear them. The woman from the couple behind us laughed out loud a few times. Rayce and I— we were like freakin kindergarteners in that theater!!! We were laughing our booties off! And yes, I did my throat-laugh-thing a time or two.
I mean Rayce and I were trying to be quiet at first, but then there comes a point where you have to silently stand up and say, "Screw you guys, I came to see a cartoon and LAUGH!"
Rayce laughed like 2 minutes when the tiger first lost its breath. I laughed and said "That's great" repeatedly during the whole squirrel tango sequence. We both laughed when the sloth was lecturing the T-Rex about him talking and her saying "grrr." And finally we BUSTED UP when the squirrel winked and jerked up the acorn as he and his girl were rocketing back up to the surface, leaving her falling back down. It was the perfect "F You" moment that was so surprising and completely hilarious!!
So moral of the story— don't be weirded-out by other couples and their lack of humor awareness. Just sit back and laugh like you were 10 years old again. That's what cartoons are for.
Transformers 2: an insult to thinking movie-goers
I understand that movies are fictional and created for the enjoyment of the masses. "Transformers 2" definitely appealed to the masses, but for anyone with a brain and a simple spark of intelligent thought in that brain— it lacked the general necessity that every story of any kind must have. Quite frankly, it didn't make sense. And that, my friends, is sloppy story-telling.
Now, I could go into the plethora of plot holes or dissect inconsistencies with the first "Transformers" movie, but it seems that all the other movie critic bloggers have beaten me to it. While reading the rantings of these Eagle Eyes, I also happened to read the comments that readers posted. While some readers agreed full-heartedly with the critical authors, others actually criticized the critics for being to critical (umm... that's their jobs)! Many of the comments boasted that the author needed to get a life, stop sucking the fun out of the movie, and even defended the loosely-pulled-together "Transformer 2" plot as being for kids and just for fun, so not to be taken seriously.
See, what confuses me about this mindset is how they can even begin to call "Transformers 2" a kids movie. The robots curse, many scenes on-campus are overtly sexual, there is so much "balls humor" that kids don't get AND it's 2 and a half hours long. NO CHILD can last in a movie theatre for 2 and a half hours, at least not parents that still have a trace of sanity left. Also, even if it is a kids movie, which it is not, that does not defend the lack of concise and sensible story-telling.
While sitting in the movie theater, watching the debauchery and absorbing dog-humping and the giant ass shot, I truly felt insulted. I felt like the movie, and all it's clichés and forced humor, was an insult to my intelligence.
I mean, for the love of Mike, how dumb do you think movie-goers are, Michael Bay? I know what makes sense, and what doesn't. What's funny, and what's not. You took a beautifully crafted story with likeable characters, a giant nerd and mass following alike, a guaranteed blockbuster of the summer and gave us— crap.
Maybe he got too cocky? Maybe he was just eager to please? Or maybe he had no idea what he was doing, so instead he put just a whole bunch of crap together that people usually like...
Violence: check
Action: check
Sexuality: check
Funny new characters that hold no true relevance to the plot: check
Over-the-top crazy mom: check
The most references to testicles possible in one movie: check
Exotic location: check
Lots and Lots of slow-motion running: check
Dream/heaven sequence (which made me laugh out loud by its ridiculousness): check
Note to the Prime Gods— less is more. The movie had too much going on at one time, without a concrete focus. It's like an ADHD 13-year-old boy wrote the script.
Now, I can't blame the actors. Shia Lebouef was just as likeable as ever and Megan Fox (which I've already claimed as one of my girl crushes— the other being Marisa Miller) did what she did best— pouted her lips and looked good while running. She is eye-candy, the main thing she does well. We know it, and so does she. So it's ok.
What I didn't know was how utterly disappointed in this movie I would be. Trust me, I didn't want to feel this way, but my personal integrity as a free-thinking individual forces me to repel "Transformers 2." I like to be challenged and enjoy movies, not be disgusted by them.
RIP Phoenix
But this entry is more personal than the dead of the king of pop. It is about the death of my buddy, my commrade, my dog— Phoenix. She's the dog I wrote an entry about when she got in a fight with the neighbor dog (See backstabbing bitch for further details)
She died three days ago, but I'm just now writing about it. She started as a shared pet between my sister and me, but Phoenix became my dog after Jena wasn't home that much (because of nursing school an hour away) and work. She kept me company on lonely nights, cuddling on my hip while I tried to study. She'd sleep over at Rayce's house and always tried to jump in my backseat when I wasn't looking in hopes to go for a "ride."
I got Phoenix about two weeks before I met Rayce.
I was in a definite rut that summer (2006) due to heartache, and Phoenix helped relieve all that. My slogan became— "There would be no war or sadness in the world if everyone just got a puppy! " She made me so happy! Then Rayce came along and made everything so much better. I'd even call him to come over to play with Phoenix and tire her out so I could do some homework!She was m
y favorite photography subject and fun to play "pick up sticks" in the yard while I picked up debris from the weeping willow in my yard after a bad storm. Her favorite activities included running, catching something you threw and having you chase her around to get it back, barking at neighbors and black people, sleeping on the sofa and having her belly rubbed.She had quite the personality. She loved Rayce, but hated any all other men. She was shy to strangers, and the best way to get her to like you was to ignore her (typical woman). She would hop higher than any other dog I knew (when I say hop, she would spring up from all fours and her nose would seriously touch my elbow!) She'd love to go visit the dogs at my parents' house, where she would then be referred to as our "country girl." By the time she got older, she recognized my camera and didn't like photo opportunities (example, the mean face she's giving me with the bow around her neck).
She was home alone a lot, and I knew she craved to be an outside dog. This past fall, with all of my homework and stuff I really couldn't pay enough attention to her and she started acting out. So I left her at my parents' house to stay. She liked to play with the other dogs there and enjoyed being outside. It still sucked to leave her there.
I knew she had heartworms, and to be honest I didn't want to pay $60/month for HeartGuard or something, so I just let it be. She turned 3 years on May 12 of this year, and I noticed the last time I went to my parents' house that she was breathing really hard all the time.
She was found in my parents' garage with a little blood around her mouth. I'm hoping she died in her sleep. She was a good dog, and will be greatly missed.
You know that old sayin...
