Tuesday, November 29, 2005

The time has come for colds and overcoats

I'm sure you were all waiting on tenterhooks to discover the outcome of my grade on my news story: I got a B. Not bad, considering I thought it still needed a lot of additional work. A more developed version of the story will run in The Daily Orange tomorrow.
We're all back from Thanksgiving break. After a couple days at home, we drove out to Buffalo to see Nana & Co. I actually ate a little bit of turkey for Thanksgiving. After doing so, I discovered I don't really like the taste of meat anymore. I even ate some stuffing that had meat in it, and thought the taste fatty and creamy. No one wants to hear the word "creamy" in reference to meat.
The next two weeks could go by much faster, though this one's going by pretty quickly anyway. Maybe they should really go by more slowly. I have another story for NEW 205, this time a feature story on WERW, a free-format campus radio station. It's due next Friday. I haven't really done much so far ... or have I? In any case, I haven't gone out and made any calls yet, much less found any numbers. I just feel so apathetic about this story. I can't wait until deadline.
On top of that, I also have a six- to seven-page paper due for my British literature class that's due the same day as the feature story. I haven't even started researching it, really. A two-page "rough draft" is due next Monday, which I'll probably pump out easily on the weekend.
Then there are two finals I have to prepare for: a written one in anthropology on Dec. 13 and a verbal one for German next Wednesday. There's also a poem I have to memorize for recitation in my poetry workshop, which I'm kind of worried about. I never was that good at pointless memorization.
Someone please save me from this neverending work. I hope next semester will be easier.

Saturday, November 19, 2005

The only light I ever see is the stars

At last, story equals done. There's only one problem: I only have four sources instead of the required five, so I'm kind of stressing out about my grade. I'm still not too comfortable with how it came out either. At least I have a little more time to perfect and hone it for the D.O.
I can't wait to go home for Thanksgiving. Well, I won't really be going home. I'll be home for about two days, then we're going off to Nana's. I always enjoyed Thanksgiving in Buffalo. It's always more homey, and there at least I can relax.
On top of the new camp, my parents made another large purchase this week: a new car. It's not entirely new (a 2002 Ford Focus), but it's still a big purchase and came as a big surprise to me when I called Mom and found out. Apparently the Sable took a turn for the worse and the engine blew, so they scrapped it, which saddens me a bit, because I always loved that car, and hoped it would be mine someday. Dad was thinking about giving it to me, but decided not to because it wouldn't pass inspection and I'd probably have to pay a lot of money to get it up to inspection par. Still, I kind of wish they'd given it to me ... So close to getting a car, and yet so far. I really hope I get that Observer-Dispatch internship ...
Apropros internships: They've kind of fallen by the wayside in my mind lately, what with all these other pressing matters at hand, i.e. registering for spring classes, Thanksgiving, my now-finished story, etc. Most of those applications aren't due for another two months or so, and I've already taken care of most of the application necessities. All that's left to do is put it all together and mail it out. I'll probably do that over Winter Break.
The O.A.R. concert last night was all right. Oddly enough, as soon as we walked into the OnCenter, I suddenly felt very depressed. This numb feeling continued throughout the duration of the concert. I just didn't feel anything at all, and if I did feel something, it was depression. I can't really explain it or where it came from; I can only guess it was hormones or a combination of that and the nonexistent amounts of sleep I'd gotten this past week. At any rate, I felt worlds better after sleeping for about 10 to 11 hours last night.
I've applied for managing editor at The D.O. A lot of people seem to think I have a chance. I'm glad I have their support, but sometimes I doubt my own credentials. However, I figure I have nothing to lose. If I don't get it, I can always re-apply for copy editor. That was the original plan, anyway.
I'm not entirely sure what I'm going to do with myself this coming Monday evening; we're not coming out with a paper next week. I have to go on Sunday to help Sports put out a special issue, but that shouldn't take too long. At least I get paid. But what to do Monday night? I suppose I'll find out what it's like to be everyone else on campus who isn't a slave for the D.O. at last. I won't know what to do with myself once I "retire" around senior year -- except maybe spend all my time at the bar.

Monday, November 14, 2005

While you were out ...

You,
You at night and you in the sun,
You, farther than the pylons that walk, charged with light, across
the fields of wheat and vanish through the hills,
You, invincible to change, and vulnerable to every wind that
breathes upon these singing wires,
You, and the clouds above the wires, and the sky above the hills,

Yes, you,
Everywhere you, driving, laughing, arranging the day, efficient
at the desk and brisk across the phone,
Telegrams and you cocktails and you,
You and the image in the glass, and the knock at the door, then
the second image, and the embrace, the kiss,
You, yes,
You beneath the sculptured slab and raised mound, lost with the
echo of Handel among cathedral beams--

You,
And all of the things that the world ignores, all of the things that
the world has forgotten or never known,
You and the glow-worm, you and the rainbow, and the desert
mirage, and the Northern Lights,
You, the footstep, you, the drumbeat and the dance, you, the
trigger, the bullet, the target, and the shield.


-- Kenneth Fearing, "Dance of the Mirrors"

Sunday, November 13, 2005

I'm living just to watch your fire, darling

I can't wait until this next week is over. I have a story for NEW 205 that I've been working on for the past week, and I just want it to be done. I haven't freaked out yet, and hopefully I won't have to. That's good. I just can't wait until this week is done.
Friday's the O.A.R. concert. I feel like every time I try to have fun or relax when I have a story, I'm letting time slip by that I could be using for work. Maybe that's a good thing; I don't know. I'm hoping it's not. Everyone needs a little time to relax, right? I wish I had more. It seems like the only time I really get to relax and not think about work is during longer vacations (i.e. Thanksgiving, Christmas break), when I'd rather be with people I can't be with while at home.
I've been thinking about the Peace Corps lately. I'd be very interested in doing it, if only it weren't for the 27-month time committment. One year would be OK, but two? It seems like a very long time. Still, I'm sure it'd look great on a resume, and I'd love to help people in Third World countries, perhaps in the Caribbean or an African country. After doing a bit of research, I found out that the only thing I could really qualify for is teaching English to elementary and high school students. For everything else, you need either an undergraduate/master's degree in the field or a shitload of experience. Still, it's something worth considering.

Just want this story to be over with ... five more days ...

Monday, November 07, 2005

I remember it well

Tell her not to go.
I ain't holding on no more.
Tell her something in my mind
Freezes up from time to time.

Tell her not to cry.
I just got scared, that's all.
Tell her I'll be by her side.
All she has to do is call.
All she has to do is call.

Tell her the chips are down.
I drank too much and shouted it aloud.
Tell her something in my heart
Needs her more than even clowns need the laughter of the crowd.

Tell her what was wrong.
I sometimes think too much, but say nothing at all.
Tell her from this high terrain,
I am ready now to fall.
I am ready now to fall.

Tell her not to go.
I ain't holding on no more.
Tell her nothing if not this:
All I want to do is kiss her.

Tell her something in my mind
Freezes up from time to time.

- Del Amitri, "Tell Her This"

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

Damn, it feels good to be a gangsta

Believe it or not, I'm kind of looking forward to coming home this weekend. Mom's coming to pick me up at 11 a.m. on Friday. At 2 p.m., I have an appointment at the hairdresser for a much-needed haircut. I also have to find time at some point to deposit all the checks from The D.O. I've accumulated over the past eight weeks. Perhaps I'll sneak in a visit to some of my brother's classes ... probably not. No matter. I don't want to conform to too much of a schedule while at home. I just need to relax in the cosy, quiet town where nothing (too) unusual ever happens. At least this time I'll be able to come home to my own bed and my own room instead of having to share a house with a stranger and sleep on the pull-out couch or ride my bike to Aunt Mo's each night.
Nonetheless, Mom's trying to get the family down for dinner on Friday, which I also look forward to. I haven't seen my family in awhile. It'll be good to catch up and just not have to worry about all the stuff that's going on here.
It's only Tuesday, and already I'm feeling stressed. Maybe it's just because the past two days I've been running nonstop from one thing to the next. Class, homework, work -- I hardly have time to eat a decent meal. As it is, I only eat one meal during the day and then pup food at the office at night, at least during the week. Weekends I can be more regular with my meal scheduling. It's just hard when you're always on the go like I am. That's why I'm looking forward to at least a weekend of peace and quiet and no responsibility. Is that too much to ask?
I'm also looking forward to going out to Phoebe's with Scott on Thursday. He asked me last week if I wanted to go there for lunch, but then plans changed and it never worked out. I got those special butterfly feelings in my chest and stomach when he asked me. "A date! He's asking me on a date!" my brain exclaimed. I'm glad it's finally happening (provided all goes well).
I'm kind of glad virtually no one else will be home this weekend, as far as I know. I like and miss my friends from home and all, but I just feel like I need to be at home with my family and without a schedule this weekend. Just peace and quiet, with nothing to bog me down. I'll "live by my wits," as Dad would say. Whatever comes up, I'll do, but I won't be tied down to a specific timetable.






I can't believe it's November already ...