I’m back!

Yup, my parents and I have made it back home in one piece and no worse for wear.

So, I’m back! I don’t know if it’s for good, but I definitely know it’s not for evil . I’m not sure what my next step is yet but I just know that at least for the foreseeable future, I’ll be living at home. Although it seems like a step backward, I’m looking at it more as a pause in my career before I move forward.

All you can do is follow your heart and hope for the best!

My stuff is all unloaded from the cars, but I’ve got a TON of unpacking to do, so I will go into more detail about things as soon as I can.

A bittersweet anniversary

Packing your life into boxes isn't always easy...it takes A LOT of sorting to separate the necessary from the unnecessary.

So, I’ve been in Idaho Falls for exactly one year (okay…one year and one day, but close enough). And after this one year, I will actually be leaving IF.

Now, my last two posts (which can be read here and here) weren’t exactly what you’d call cheerful. So you can safely assume I’m not leaving for the best reasons. I don’t want to go into detail about it. The people who matter know what happened. But, to make a long story short, I am no longer working at the Post Register.

I remember when I first accepted the position here and all the things going through my mind. I knew that this would be a starting point for my career and that it wasn’t permanent, but I was obviously planning on leaving on my terms. Unfortunately, that decision was made for me. And while I’m not thrilled about my reasons for leaving, I can’t say I’m that sorry to be putting IF behind me.

R.I.P., Donald Fisher

Yesterday, Gap founder Donald Fisher died.

I actually didn’t know this until I watched Conan’s monologue tonight. I Googled it and found this article about him on NPR.

Now, I obviously never knew Fisher, but I do have to say this: The four years I worked at one of his stores were some of the best of my life. I met so many great friends there. It’s been almost a year since I left the Gap, but I miss my old coworkers constantly, especially whenever I go to the Gap here.

There are some days–despite not wanting to return to the world of retail–when I honestly wish I could fall back into the Gap. But, now that I’ve graduated from college, I’m putting my degree to good use and have entered the wonderful world of journalism.

It really is like what the Rolling Stones say. You can’t always get what you want. Oh well.

I’m so glad AP agrees with me

A little while back, I wrote about how the term Oriental offends me.

Well, I am happy to say I’m not alone. Actually, I already knew I wasn’t alone, but I am here today to show you I’m not alone.

One of my favorite blogs to visit is Stuff Journalists Like. The latest post was about political correctness and here’s is my favorite part (emphasis added):

The AP Stylebook gives journalists these options: Abortion rights supporter is preferred over Pro choice. American Indian NOT Native American. African-American and black (NOT capitalized) are both acceptable terms. And there is the old adage: rugs are Oriental, people are Asian.

I literally laughed (and snorted) out loud when I read that.

Afterwards, I decided to see what exactly my AP Stylebook has to say about the topic. Here’s what I found:

Asian, Asiatic Use Asian or Asians when referring to people. Some Asians regard Asiatic as offensive when applied to people.

Orient, Oriental Capitalize when referring to the Far East nations of Asia and nearby islands. Asian is the preferred term for an inhabitant of these regions. Also: Oriental rug, Oriental cuisine.

I already knew this, but it’s always nice to be validated, don’t you think?

Something to keep in mind at work

Put it before them briefly so they will read it, clearly so they will appreciate it, picturesquely so they will remember it and, above all, accurately so they will be guided by its light.

 

-Joseph Pulitzer

A long time coming…

‘Cause we all just wanna be big rock stars
And live in hilltop houses driving fifteen cars
The girls come easy and the drugs come cheap
We’ll all stay skinny cause we just won’t eat

And we’ll hang out in the coolest bars
In the VIP with the movie stars
Every good gold digger’s gonna wind up there
Every Playboy bunny with her bleach blond hair and well,
Hey hey I wanna be a rock star
Hey hey I wanna be a rock star

-”Rockstar” by Nickelback

This was never me. I can honestly say I never really entertained the idea of becoming a rockstar (or any other type of celebrity, for that matter). As I’ve said it before, for long as I could remember, I’ve always wanted to do something that had me writing for a living. And I’m fortunate enough to be able to say that I am.

Dating: nothing more than a second job?

“If a journalist’s lede is his pick-up line, then his nut graf is when he asks for your number – it’s the point where he seals the deal or not.”

-Nut grafs from Stuff Journalists Like

I never thought of it that way but now that I have, it makes perfect sense. In an article, you’re trying to sell the story. In a pick up, you’re trying to sell yourself (and no, I don’t mean it in the sex-for-money way).

I don’t know why I haven’t thought about it this way before.

Maybe this is how I should approach dating. You know, just think of it like my job. Meeting a guy and getting to know him is nothing more than writing a story.

A short trip down memory lane and a slight bout of homesickness

Welcome to Starbucks

As I walk up Pike Place from Stewart to Virginia, I’m not met with the usual confusion I’ve come to associate with Seattle’s Pike Place Market. However, there is still that definite energy in the air that always hits me whenever I walk streets lined with produce stands, restaurants and shops. It’s not just the energy coming from the people around me, but from the market itself. To me, public markets have always seemed very much alive—each having its own unique character and personality. Here it is no different. With stands selling fresh flowers, the art of local Native Americans as well as the famous flying fish market, Pike Place is a reflection of the Northwest.

I continue my walk as a man in front of me puffs on his cigarette. As he exhales, I step to the side in order to avoid the dangers of secondhand smoke, but am unsuccessful. I frantically try waving the smoke away when I see it. The sign is plain and unobtrusive with three brown circles on a white rectangular board. Each circle contains the same image of a two-tailed, bare-breasted mermaid with a crown atop her long hair. Along the inside border of each circle are four words: Starbucks, Coffee, Tea, Spices.

I am standing in front of the original Starbucks store.

I’m on deadline…

…which is why this isn’t going to be a very worthy post. Procrastination always, always, always comes back to bite me in the ass. Why don’t I ever learn? And why does it always, always, always happen on TV night?!  

I’ll try to write more later but no guarantees. In the meantime, happy Thursday!

Excuse my moment of vanity…

My first Sunday package!

…but I really couldn’t help it. Tomorrow’s the 10-year anniversary of the Columbine High School shooting. In light of that, I wrote a story about how security measures in schools have changed since then. This isn’t the first time I wrote the A1 Sunday story but it is my first Sunday package and I just had to blog about it because well, I’m a journalist. I like to see my name in print.