Venting

Is it alright for me to vent, just a little bit? Now you know I won't vent everything in my mind, because though I know only two or three people actually read this blog, there's the potential that many more read than I know.

I just want to say that I feel overwhelmed.
I feel like I am swamped with reading, with assignments... I know I can catch up, but it's the process of catching up that has me tired. And I think I am crazy for wanting to cover a story on Friday... one of the days I don't have any classes... I could be reading. But honestly... Would I really be reading? I'd be washing dishes, washing and folding clothes, making sure my apartment doesn't look like a hot mess.

It's all about managing and juggling demands. With less time in class and more to do outside of class, it's tough. But hey' it's part of the process, it's what folks do every day, and since I am considered a folk, I've got to do it too.

Mentor

I found out who my mentor will be for this semester. I am not saying his name, but I will say I used to listen to him every morning on a well known program distributed by a well known outlet. That's all I can sayz and I can't sayz no more! (That's my feeble attempt to toy with the words Popeye the Sailor used to say when he was fed up with foolishness, "That's all I can stanz and I can't stanz no more!")

Back to the topic at hand... I am excited about my mentor, and I hope to learn a lot from him this semester.

Thoughts and stuff

29 January 2008
Mood: fine, sad, excited
Audio: the television

Barack Obama spoke at AU yesterday.
Even though I wasn't there, when I finally arrived to work on another project, my help was needed to quickly edit some audio to play underneath a photo slide show.

Yesterday, I was at a memorial for JJs grandpa. He was quite the character. I’ll always remember the conversation we had with him after Thanksgiving dinner… He was telling us stories, and one of the things he shared was how he used to have target practice in his home. In his basement. With a real gun, with real bullets… so I asked him “Where did you shoot, into a bail of hay or something?” His answer “Nooooo, nooo, I shot into the wall!” Everyone around the table was amused, so I asked him what was on the other side of the wall… Thankfully, it was earth… If I recall the story correctly. I didn’t have that many interactions with him, but the ones I did have were memorable.

Last week, I also found out about someone I knew from the Oaks passed away. He had cancer… Even though I knew he had cancer… It’s still a trip.

I really don’t even know what to say right now. The main thing I suppose is that I must get back to writing my thoughts down, because that is the one forum where I can start to vent about what’s going on in my mind without the conversation being hijacked and turned into a venting fest for the person who was listening. I don’t have very many friends who really listen to me. I do have them, but they are few and far between.

NYC Trip 3

Today, up and at 'em time was early... But not as early as the morning show anchors must rise. Allison C. Of Fox and Friends must get up at three something in the morning. That's before New York city goes to sleep... Oh, wait, NYC is the city that never sleeps.

R. and I got ready and walked to the corner of 47th and Broadway to meet the double-decker tour bus that would transport us to the CBS Early Show studios as well as give us an interesting tour along the way.

We got to the FAO Schwartz store where the shoot was to happen. Thing is, the area the show was to use in the show store was already crowded with high school performance students who were overly obviously excited to be there.

We sang along with Ringo Starr live from Liverpool. Oh what fun. But it was kind of interesting. Of course it would have been better if he were in NYC or better yet, if we were all flown to Liverpool.

After our two seconds of fame R. and I went to Century 21
Store. I bought W.W. a hat that he'll hopefully use instead of that knit cap that makes him look like a little boy.

After that we caught a cab back to the hotel, checked out around noon, then headed to Penn Station. Our train was 15 minutes late.

There is something soothing about the train. No takeoff. No landing. No popping eardrums or pressurized cabins. Minimal turbulence. And the train can only fall so far, depending where it falls from: a bridge over troubled waters, from tracks on a winding mountainside, or from the tracks to the ground underneath.

There is something about Baltimore... Along the train route, there were varying degrees of ghetto I observed from the train car window. Varying degrees of trash. But I tell you when we chugged into Baltimore, the ghetto took on a whole knew appearance. Boarded up buildings. Not just one row of townhouses. Several rows, several buildings... there was even one building I saw that was losing its rectangular prism shape. It appeared to be buckling in the center... giving dilapidated a new meaning.

Oh Baltimore... Is it the Nazareth of modern times? Can any good thing come out of Baltimore?

The answer is yes.