Monday, May 01, 2006

Have you forgotten how to love yourself?

It seems as if at the end of the line, things suddenly start getting so much harder. It's my second to last night as a Daily Orange slave, and it's going to be a long one.

Frankly, I have mixed feelings about leaving. On the one hand, I won't have to deal with the long nights, the stress when things go wrong, the waiting around. I'll get to be a "real" student again, my nights free to stretch out on my couch in front of the television. When I come home from class, I won't have to worry about catching the bus an hour later to work, scrambling around the kitchen to whip up something quick yet savory in a matter of minutes. Then again, I'll miss the comraderie of the office, being a head editor, being able to have a say in the production of one of the top student-run independent college papers in the country. It's definitely been a good three semesters. I've learned more in these three semesters than I'll probably ever learn in four years in Newhouse. Without The D.O., I wouldn't have gotten an internship at The Buffalo News this summer, I would have never written my first real news story, would have never met all these wonderful people that have changed my life only for the better. They opened my eyes to the world out there, and taught me a couple lessons in the meantime. I don't want to speculate where I'd be without them.

But despite all that, it's time I bowed out and took a nice long rest from all that work. Part of me says I should stay around in case things go wrong, but the other part says it's time to let go and let someone else handle it for once; after all, it really isn't my job anymore. Right now it's hard to tell whether that's a good or a bad thing.

Nevertheless, I volunteered to re-update the D.O. stylebook during the summer. I figure I won't have much else to do during the day while lazing around my apartment anyway. That's right -- I found an apartment about 2 miles from downtown Buffalo, one block from Elmwood Avenue, where all the "action" happens, according to Nana. Ethan's living in Amherst, a suburb about 15 minutes away from me. If I still had pictures of the place, I'd post them. The apartment, I've been told, is big enough for two people, though it's a one-bedroom. The kitchen, living room and bedroom look really nice, simple and clean. I'm pumped. I move in on May 26, the same day as my drug-screening test, so I'm told. I think the plan is to stay overnight at Nana's on May 25, take my test in the morning and then move in. As it turns out, Ethan and I are taking a trip to Buffalo this Wednesday to check out our respective apartments. It'll be great to have a place to myself for the summer. Thing is, it's only available until Aug. 5, so I'll have to live with Nana until the end of my internship. I'll have to plot the bus route extra carefully, since that'll be my main means of transportation all summer, unless Ethan's car is available now and then. Still, it should be a great summer. There're already plans to attend a Goo Goo Dolls concert sometime in July.

My last NEW 305 story, a profile on an SU student, was officially turned in last Thursday at 1,445 words. I'm especially proud of this one; I'll find out my grade tomorrow afternoon during the last class. I also wrote and turned in my last history paper, and wrote my four-page German paper (in English) this past weekend. I'll turn it in on Tuesday. All I have left to do is finish line-editing these flashfictions for my fiction writing class, write up a two-page analysis of a Rilke poem (in German) for German and study for my two finals: history and human sexuality. The latter shouldn't be too difficult ... just kidding. I've been scribbling down notes from the book, which I don't read unless I'm studying for an exam. History is always a bitch to study for, because the exams are based on paragraph-long blurbs about certain topics we studied, and then an essay (luckily, we get the topics before the test). On May 10, I move back home for a couple weeks.

Truth be told, I'm actually looking forward to going back to that small-town environment. It's so much simpler there; while everyone else bustles around their daily lives, all I have to worry about is what I'm going to be cooking for dinner that night. My bed is comfortable, my room is (finally) beginning to smell like me again (instead of She-Whose-Name-We-Shall-Not-Mention) and I've developed a newfound respect for my brother. Things seem so much easier there, and I'm surrounded by loved ones. I love having my entire family for a nice evening with dinner and just sitting and hearing them talk. Sometimes getting back to one's roots can be therapeutic.

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