Uncategorized

12 hours.

That is how long I have been in Reno.

Can I go back to Las Vegas, please?

I have no idea what’s wrong with me.

The past 12 hours have been rather uneventful. I was picked up at the airport, went to lunch at Olive Garden, went to the dorms, went to work, went back to the dorms, ate Jimmy John’s for dinner and have been unpacking for the past hour.

I need to get back into the swing of things. It kind of kicked in when I sat there organizing my desk – mostly because my brand new computer at work doesn’t have Internet – and I was chatting with everyone that I haven’t seen in five weeks. It’s great to see everyone. I didn’t even mind editing.

I just don’t want to be here.

I would give anything to be at home, in the bedroom I grew up, lying in bed, awake and reading some book, and then going to bed at some ungodly hour only to be woken up by my daddy for breakfast/lunch the next morning (this just summed up five weeks of my life).

I hate this growing up thing right now.

Oh well. I’ll be over it soon enough.

Also, sidenote: I’m totally fucked for my first class of the semester on Tuesday, mainly because it’s at 9:30 a.m. Ugh.

Standard
Uncategorized

Leaving Vegas.

So I’m sitting on my bed, tired from only getting three hours of sleep last night and waiting for my laundry to finish so I can leave for the airport.

And for the first time in a very long time, I don’t want to leave Las Vegas.

You have to understand this – I am not a fan of my hometown. I do not want to live in my hometown when I am older. I spent a majority of my youth trying to get out of my hometown.

But the last five weeks have been nice. It’s not because I don’t pay for bills while I’m here. It’s not because my car and I were reunited for a short period of time – though that helps. It’s not even because my parents have given me much more leeway than they ever would have two years ago.

No, it’s because when I’m here, I’m comfortable. I don’t have to worry. I don’t have to stress. My family is here. Some of my best friends are here. I know how to find my way around, even as new buildings pop up on every street corner.

I’m home. And I always forget how much I like love that.

I know I’ll be back in a couple of weeks, and then in March, and then again in May.

But I’ll still miss it.

Each time I leave this city, I appreciate it a little more.

Standard
Uncategorized

Goal(s) for the semester.

To become better at what I do.
Made lots of mistakes last semester.
Am going to attempt to fix everything I did wrong (have not made formal list yet, but there were lots of them).
Am going to make more mistakes, because no one’s perfect. Am going to try to fix those too.
Will keep learning and trying.
Will figure this out, damn it.
Will pass all classes.
End.

Also: schedule change, got into the J204 class at 2:30 on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Standard
Uncategorized

A journalistic musing.

It is once again 3 a.m., and I was thinking about journalism. No, not the Sagebrush or internships or the future or classes.

Just journalism. What it means. Why it exists. What my role as a journalist really is.

I haven’t thought about it in those terms in quite a while. Since last summer, actually. For the past four months, it’s always about getting the job done and attempting to make deadline…so much so that a person can forget why they’re doing it in the first place.

It’s not about a byline. It’s not about a clip. It’s not about winning awards. It’s not about advancement in this crazy field.

It’s about telling the story. It’s about learning how to best tell a story so not only does the reader understand it, but feels some sort of emotion because of it. The stories we write, the photographs we take, the designs we layout…they all mean something to someone out there. It’s more than just a job.

It’s a calling.

I think people forget that. They get lost and preoccupied. I think that when they do, it’s what makes them cynical about it all. In a Time article, it said that about 50 percent of journalists are satisfied with their jobs. I wonder what is going on with the other 50.

So, the point of this post was…don’t forget why you do it. Don’t forget why it’s important.

And maybe I’m too optimistic. But for now, I’d prefer it to stay that way.

Sidenote: I’m in a Dawson’s Creek kind of mood right now, and so am attempting to find the final 10 minutes of the show on YouTube. It doesn’t exist.

Standard
Uncategorized

4 years.

I could easily graduate in that much time (total, not four years from today).

I just spent the last hour with a course catalog, my DARS report and a Word document, figuring out what classes I would have to take each semester if I want to graduate in 2010.

I could also do it without excruciating torture.

The question is…do I want to do that?

Part of me says yes, I want to finish up in four years and then move on. But another part reasons that college only lasts for so long, so I should enjoy it while I can.

I still want to study abroad, and see all these places that I might not get to see at any other time in my life.

I still want to develop my skills as a journalist, and continue working for a college newspaper, where the media groups don’t control the content just yet.

I want so many things…and the only thing holding me back is myself. I admit it.

It’s about priorities…what’s important to me and what standards I hold myself to.

I don’t have an answer just yet. I don’t know when I will.

Standard