I am so behind on posts right now, partially due to laziness when I had Internet access and partially due to not having Internet at all.
So, on Monday, after a brief Portland morning stint that involved buying Voodoo Doughnuts and touring airbnb’s office, I drove to Eugene, where I caught up with friend Taylor downtown, visited the University of Oregon campus, had a tarot card reading done on said campus and spent the night at friend Suzi’s house, where food was eaten, laundry was done and Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix was watched.
Still, the most memorable moment happened while I was eating pizza after Taylor had to leave for court. A girl — damn, I can’t remember her name now, but she was very nice and had just moved to Eugene from Sacramento — invited me to sit down at her table because the one I was originally at appeared to be by a heater. We chatted a bit before another girl sat down at the table I was originally at.
Girl 2 remarked on the heat, then started offering us some unsolicited advice about how to get the job you want. She was a journalist, she told us, and her writing was noticed by an editor at the local alt weekly. That had landed her the job she was still in, and this allowed her words to influence her readers.
Now, mind you, I hadn’t said a word about what I personally do for a living. I just nodded and let her keep talking.
When she finished her lunch, she got up to walk away, but paused next to my table and said:
You know what the best part about being a journalist is? I don’t have an office. *waves her arms around to gesture at the world around her* This is my office.
Talk about an on point conversation.
I still have no idea who this girl is, though I did pick up a copy of the weekly and plan on googling the contributing writers’ names. Journalism!