2.8.06
Required: some sort of beverage to read this entry.
journalists are a strange breed - we're comfortable only with our words, thoughts, the information we collect. it's the only way we know how to communicate. We're either gregarious, yet in a socially uncomfortable way (our conversation is filled constantly with bitches about our beats) or we're quiet, yet loud on paper.
my company held an editorial retreat today. of course the main speaker was some well known guy who has YEARS of experience in journalism. while his lecture was interesting - about how the face of journalism is changing because of the internet - blogs, wikipedia.com, people recording events and posting them online, being citizen journalists while there are also formally trained journalists - but it was also one of those situations where we weren't sure how to take what he was saying and incorporate it into our daily work as community journalists who work for weekly or twice-weekly papers and don't' have to face the conundrums of the big daily papers. part of his lecture included talking about how ebay and craigs list are basically classified advertising. i looked at my editor and said, did he forget he's at an EDITORIAL conference? anyway. there were some cool points i got out of the lecture and that's all that matters. but nothing groundbreaking. but it got me thinking about the whole blogging, internet/citizen journalist concept.
my biggest concern is if people take the content that "citizen journalists" provide and use it as their source of information. how credible is that source? do they cite their sources? what is their background, their knowledge of the topic? it's a case by case situation, of course, but i could feel the tension in the room rise as this guy continued on about the industry of journalism and how it seems to be that people are taking it into their own hands. I know anyone can be a Do It Yourself journalist (we just get paid, that's the difference, my editor said with a chuckle) but to me, it questions the integrity of the information provided.
but then again, what really is a journalist? in the professional sense of the word, it's someone who writes for the record the events of the day. but i've been keeping a journal since i was 11, recording my own important facts and events - if i were not a professional journalist, would that make me a journalist in a context of the word? sure.
the guy said our jobs are bascially insured though, as people retreat to quality. however we're not so much looked up to anymore as we are as guides for helping people, teaching people provide correct information, informing, entertaining with our work. we provide an area of conversation, much like a "Town Square" he said.
journalists also have that internal wild streak that gets their blood rushing when evoked - like spending three years studying a county court system and figuring out if true justice was being brought to those who went through the system, then writing a huge piece about it. would a blogger do that? not on your life. a journalist? you betcha. one who drinks, eats, sleeps, breathes researching topics that could have a profound effect on the community the paper serves. it also proves my point that we are a little insane - but aren't there those types in every industry anyway?
journalism, in today's sense, is more than just writing - and i'm probably in the profession for the wrong reasons. journalism is about issues, being a watchdog (there's a reason we're called the fourth estate), keep track of who is doing what, what they are doing and why, questioning how things should be. i enjoy that about my job. but there's something missing in me that i felt was with everyone else today, like i shouldn't have been there, that i don't "get" being a journalist. maybe its a public service that i just don't click with.
there's a question out there that comes up once in a while - are you a writer or a reporter? a reporter is what i've been talking about the past five minutes. a writer is on a bigger scale i think - someone who appreciates the english language, uses it correctly and can apply it appropriately - whether its technical writing, being a reporter, a fiction writer or a doctor. good writers are always sought out. reporters go for the kill, for the information, as well as write well.
being a journalist has been extremely educational in the fact that it's taught me so much about the world i live in - we're so sheltered as kids and in college - the first job anyone should have, who likes to write but doesn't know what to do with their lives, is a community journalist. you learn about the world around you, government, crime, people, personalities, how to work with difficult people, experience and write about extremely interesting situations that no one else gets to do. you also get to take those principles and apply them to the real world. there's always a backdoor deal some where going on, whether its in the White House or in the county commissioners office - everyone has an agenda. someone always has a story to tell. the best stories come from the people i think i don't want to talk to yet once i approach them, my previously sketched out story in my head is scratched because this person has just turned everything around. people still surprise me. that makes me feel good.
my other issue of the day was blogging. i'd sort of been against it, mainly b/c i felt like i did my own blogging, my own observations in my notebooks, since i was 11, when i would talk about my crush in fifth grade to today, when i talk about serious and frustrating and happy issues with work, people, friends, family, (and yeah, still the crush I have today). i feel in a way it replaces my journal. i'll admit, my journaling has drastically reduced since, well college. it was once a week, once every two weeks in college; now its more like once a month. my journal, i believe, carries the responsiblity of a journalist, regardless of my profession. I record the events of my life, as a young girl in the early 1990s to today as an adult woman in 2006, living in this time period, in which no one else will live the exact same life as me. In 50 years, will my grandkids be able to seek out this entry on the internet? or should i print it out and put in my journal, with the hopes that their chances are better of finding it in a box in an attic with the other 30 or so books i've "written"?
blogs can be many things - a place of personal everyday venting for one person, a place for a pulitzer prize winning cartoonist from Cincinnati to post his thoughts daily on his upcoming cartoons, or a political guru to shed light on the latest issues or a gardener to discuss what they planted in their garden that day or their plans for their summer gardens.
again, though, is it journaling, or blogging? the same? different?
12.19.05
So I've signed up for this myspace.com thing. i've been fighting with people the past few days as to why and how it's different from Friendster. No one really had an answer. Yet Reba and I were on it until 1 a.m. Friday night. Then Don showed me tonight how it worked. Then I couldn't get it out of my head. So now, as an attempt to tire me out on this Sunday night, I've joined the ranks of myspace. Was actually kind of fun. we'll see what happens. date, running partner, job, who knows. i'm redirecting interested folk here in place of a myspace blog. it's bad enough for me to keep track of hotmail, acrn and yahoo accounts and this site. and keeping thoughts in a journal and then the additional random ones online when inspiration strikes.
one week before xmas. less than i suppose, really. the house didn't really get decorated, except for a little tinsel here and there. no tree, but the bike looks lovely covered in lights, garland and beads. followed through with the Betty Crocker feeling i'd been having - made, oh three batches of dough, made about 100 cookies. hopefully they'll be gone by the time i'm on vacation. forgot to add the vanilla in the pecan pie for work but added it in just before the hour-long baking process. don't ask how. it still came out looking like pie.
Oh crap, I forgot. garbage night. I just heard a garbage can rumble about. I hope its the lady below taking it out and not the wind knocking it over. I'll probably have to drag it out tomorrow. Regardless, at 1:52 a.m. it's going to be an early monday.
12.1.05
I'm all about the holidays and chocolate and making cookies and Hershey Kisses, but does anyone else find the latest commercials featuring the Pillsbury Doughboy disturbing? I mean, he's shaking his little flour behind and winking at me like its just the two of us and he wants to share an oven mitt. I can't look at him the same way ever again. Sorry PDBoy, our relationship is forever tainted. But yet I have this urge to start making sugar cookies for the season. I've never had that urge before.
I forgot how cool Princess Fiona is from Shrek. She knows how to make a man cry.
Dr. Seuss and Jack Prelutsky are my heros.
Damn public television. Last night featured Rick Steves' Europe (I now want to hike through Switzerland, for anyone who is interested in joining me) and tonight, J.P. Patches. While I didn't grow up in Seattle and was never an official "Patches Pal", I do see the admiration for him that lives in the heart in Northwest children. I had Bozo the Clown, however, he was from Chicago. I swear, they were repeats too, they weren't live, the show looked so old. Oh well. I liked his sidekick better. ANYWAY, I want to call KCTS and give my money but my charity funds for the year have been spent on KEXP.
Life's about to get crazy - Rebekah will be back in the country Tuesday night! Whoo-hoo!
10.7.05
While watching the anime flick "Princess Mononoke" tonight, which includes a young girl who is kickin' some major samurai butt and rides a wolf through the forest:
me: I want to be a warrior princess!
david: I know you do. Well, you are. Except instead of riding a wolf, you ride a Honda.
10.3.05
Last year the TV crush was Jason Bateman from Arrested Development, but this season, the most delicious man in the world is the head chef on Kitchen Confidential. Like a little slice of sweet, sweet rich chocolate heaven every Monday. Or would it be more like a light dessert, like Creme Brulee, of which, coincidentally, I've been craving for about six months now and can't seem to find the perfect little custard dish in which I would lightly break the blowtorched-top with the back of my little dessert spoon until the caramelized sugar was drowning in the soft sweet vanilla custard. Ahem. Um. Yeah. Blondie-brownish hair, blue eyes, extremely scruffy - 5 o'clock shadow, except its 24/7. Luscious. Followed up by the main character from Prison Break. Oddly enough, even his tattoos are attractive, even if it is his secret plan for breaking him and his brother out of prison.
9.16.05
I don't know why, but it was quite appropriate to be listening to Sufjan and paging through the "garden" section of the September issue Vogue, which quite pleasingly, featured an English garden. Such trimmed and manicured beds, with a large cottage looming over the grounds. I want a house with a garden. Reminds me of Stratford-Upon-Avon and touring Shakespeare's grounds. Speaking of, Bronsyn let me borrow her copy of Kenneth Branagh's version of Hamlet. That means a Sunday evening date with Bill!
Why I have (or now, had) a subscription to Vogue, I'm not sure. I got it after I got back from NYC last year, with my mind overloaded with the names and labels I saw at Saks, Macys, Bloomingdales, etc. and the rich fabrics I found there. Did I read a single article of the 12 issues I received? Maybe one. I should have subscribed to Vanity Fair instead. However, I did accomplish something tonight with the magazine that I've wanted to do for so long - rip out all the advertisements from the 20 lbs. publication, which, with an 802-page periodical, was quite satisfying. Great for anger management, I would think. However, anyone finding me doing this would probably have thought I'd lost it. But now I'm extremely happy with my 99 percent editorial /1 percent advertising Vogue. And I think it was the most appropriate to do it to one of the magazines' largest issues. As for what I'll do with the ads? If you get a package from me in the next year, look for it wrapped with skinny models dressed in lovely duds. Just recycle the wrapper.
9.9.05
Fall got here too fast. It's too chilly. But sort of mentally getting ready for it, which means spending Saturday and Sunday mornings at the cafe next door reading and drinking tea and people/dog watching. Will be using a wet suit for the first time on Sunday during the tri in Lake Washington. Jeff bailed on me on the race so looks like I'll be doing this one alone. Lame. Oh well. In two weeks, I'll do another one with the Kitsap Tri-babes in Enumclaw so I'll finally get my official Kitsap Tri-Babe pink jersey!
Found out this week that two of my favorite people in the whole world are leaving the newspaper. It was a sad day Tuesday. All the more motivation for me to get started on the next chapter of my life.
Yeah, its going to be a quiet fall, I can tell already. Beth is already neck-deep in law school in Ohio. Reba left yesterday for Madagascar. David is gone in a month, back to Colorado. However, Dominic is in town, is reunited with Dan and hopefully we can get a big camp out together in October of Ohio kids.
Officially, I can never eat ice cream again. Stomach doesn't like it. It was a sure sign last night after I went out to dinner with Adam and we did our routine Cold Stone Creamery run. We both wound up throwing our dishes out because well, it was just too much after eating our weight in sushi, but in the end, my poor digestive track was screaming at me. I knew you all wanted to know that.
9.2.05
words/phrases of the week:
sussing out - new word josh farley sprung on me today in my article about citizen police volunteers.
"ripe with child" - attributed to the infamous Brad Goodman. I'm not kidding, this is how I want to be described in my ninth month, if I ever get that far. However, my sister didn't find it so funny.
8.22.05
Crimony. September is only a week and a half away. I keep hearing the words "NFL" and "Monday Night Football" and "Cowboys". I AM NOT READY FOR THAT YET. I need to make it to Safeco Field just one more time.
Gearing up for second triathlon, Escape From The Rock, with Don's friend, Jeff and some of his clients. It's a longer swim (1/2 mile), but shorter run (2.5 miles), same bike distance (12 miles). Getting nervous about it, since I basically took a month off from training after the first one. But have been working out in the past week and feel pretty strong, so I don't think I lost that much. Plus I hiked about in Costa Rica a lot. It's just the swim that's sort of nagging me. Been getting advice from others, such as to just take it slow and steady and try and keep an even breathing pace. I'll start out in the last swim wave. I did a nice, big, long workout in the pool this morning, which felt great.
Volunteered as a bike course monitor in Seattle last weekend at the Danskin Tri - inspiring to see 5,000 women participate in this event. Cheered on the Kitsap Tri-Babes, who all looked awesome out there, esp. my friends Maura, Jodi and Celeste. The other volunteers were athletes of various degree as well, so it was cool to converse and share stories and experiences. I took my bike over on the ferry and rode around Seattle for the first time. Not as intimidating as I thought it would be, although the hills on Union and Madison were not pleasant whatsoever, esp. with a backpack on. Regardless, I'd take my bike over there any time. I always thought those cyclists getting on and off the ferry looked so cool. I was further inspired Sunday when riding home by a group of girls who had their bikes loaded with camping/touring gear. I thought, wow, maybe I can actually do that - two years ago, when someone mentioned doing that sort of thing, I thought he was crazy. But hell yeah, I'm ready to do a bike excursion to the San Juans.
It should be an interesting fall. Beth and Reba are leaving town. Dominic is moving to town. Mike may come out to visit. Dr. Scott and Layne have moved to Portland.
7.30.05
So it has turned out that Emers Birthday Party in Columbus turned out to be "Let's call Tiffany in Seattle" night. To be fair, I was forewarned earlier today that I would be receiving many phone calls from a group of drunk lobsters that would be perusing the Short North in C-bus. And I did, several times, in fact. It was highly entertaining, for being 3,000 miles away, but sad too because I wished I was there with them.
I've been reconnecting with someone lately who I thought I'd lost touch with completely. I'd been sad the past few weeks because I wasn't sure if we'd ever be friends again but I think that's changing, thankfully. I want to be his friend more than anything in the world because he's such a unique and wonderful individual. We climbed a tree today together. I now have scars on my arms. He said he feels guilty because he feels he caused them, even though we didn't know there was a blackberry bush growing in the tree until I sat on it. I like to think of them as reminders of a good time.
5.25.05
I absolutely adore my friend Adam. Every time he comes over, it's like having my own personal theater. We talk about movies we've seen, issues with work or complain, drool or analyze over our latest accomplishments or failures in the dating world, and I get on his case about how he should be auditioning for plays. No matter what the issue is, he always talks and expresses himself with such wonderful emotion and energy. Tonight he read out loud from a story he read recently that he said reminded him of me. It was about a woman who was trying to move from one chapter of her life to another but there was something that was holding her back. The symbolism in the story was the difference between a $1 bill and a $10 bill. You could keep the $1, knowing its worth, or trade it in for a $10 bill, also knowing its greater worth. The woman finally let go of her $1 bill, moved to Seattle, became a writer and found what she was looking for.
He said my apartment and Bremerton was my $1 bill. I moved 3,000 miles from Ohio to here, what's another hour long trek to the city?
Later, as we were standing in line at Cold Stone Creamery for our after-dinner-ice-cream-before-he goes-back-to-the-ferry dessert, he pulled out a dollar and handed it to me and said "This is your $1 bill."
I looked at it and said, you know this really isn't a $1 bill but a sign. There have been a lot of signs lately. I wrote on it "Adam's $1 - For Seattle." He said when I need it as I'm moving to the city, I'll remember it and I'll pull it out and it will have served its purpose.
5.13.05
Josh and I decided the other day that we never knew, really knew, what the definition of community was until we came to North Kitsap. We both admit that the college community doesn't count and growing up, we're so innocent as to what is going on around us. And what we've discovered in the past three years for me and nearly two years for him, is that being a part of a community, an intensely involved and caring and yet politically all over the place community, has changed us. He admits to being more conservative in his politics. I'm finding I'm definitely paying attention more to global issues as well as local issues and am finding they aren't that much different. I'm also much more pessimistic than I was in college.
former new york times critic on fresh air right now on 88.5 KPLU. she just made a wonderful point I wholeheartedly agree with - to eat bad, greasy, terrible-tasting food with a group of friends is far better than eating a wonderful meal by oneself.
yet there is whole chicken, pieced out, some baked with bbq sauce and some massaged and marinated with olive oil, poultry seasoning, fresh organic garlic shoots, lemon juice and kosher salt, laid out on my kitchen counter, with wonderful smells pouring out of the oven, rice on the stove and an organic salad marinating in Italian dressing and the only company in my residence is the radio and the occasional telemarketer. I should have asked the telemarketer to dinner.
4.18.05
mom's birthday. sent her a card and called. wish I was there to help her celebrate and eat salad with her and go running together. She says she's going to train for a 5K. She better.
Ex-boyfriend from college sent me a mix CD today. it's so nice be in touch with old friends. And he hasn't changed a bit, which makes me smile. Quite frankly I'm very happy with life's situation right now - no attachment and plenty of friends from various sectors. And finding that, in fact, women CAN be friends with men. At least I keep telling myself that.
Why is my name always associated with tall leggy blondes or brunettes on TV? On what BASIS do writers feel that my name is a perfect label for some sex object? I'm starting to get offended by this.
4.3.05
So my friend Trevor wants to take me to a newly formed Roller Derby in Seattle, i.e. to try and recruit me to be a part of the team. Crazy name required. One name on the team is Electric Fanny. Another is Juana Asskickin'. Hmmm.
This whole triathlon thing that Rebekah and I are doing is slow to start. We both do our respective training during the week, while trying to run together once a week. However, our exercise is counterbalanced by ridiculously awesome meals from Smokin' Pete's BBQ in Ballard or a huge breakfast at Salmon Bay. Next weeks' Italian Feast at her place won't help matters. But I guess if I eat well during the week, I can splurge during the weekend? Maybe I'm splurging too much. And too much peanut butter at work. Plus, besides being fit for the triathlon, there is August's Costa Rica trip to think about. I just need to keep thinking about the polka dotted bathing suit I just purchased...
There are too many white trucks around this area. When I'm driving, I always seem to look for a particular one. By the way, Happy 30th, old man.