hovering

Lately I've had this very odd sensation that I'm sort of floating, in a way, hovering around something big, but I can't quite get there. I know it has to do with the time of year, and the fact that I'm going to be seriously looking for jobs soon. But I have a sense of dullness that I can't quite shake. I feel like I should be more nervous about finding a job, more anxious about the fact that I have no clue where I'll be in six months, but over the last few weeks, I've been so focused on my life in the present, that the future hasn't really caught up with me yet.

That's good, right? I've been saying forever that my goal was to live more in the now, and not worry about what's coming and where I'm going. I've always been a strident planner, and incredible organizer, yet right now I feel like there's so much on my plate that needs to be organized and planned in addition to all the other stuff going on in my life, something had to give, and it was the future.

There have been multiple instances in the last few days where this Future has been poking my shoulder, creeping into my daily life as a reminder of its imminence. I delivered a package yesterday for one of the women at University Relations, it was a set of proofs for the program for the Spring Honors Convocation. That's the thing they hold in April to honor all the students who've performed well -- seniors wear their caps and gowns. Holy crap. And yet, it seems so unreal right now, so completely foreign and far away. Denial? Maybe. Survivalist instinct? Probably more likely.

I think my mind is compartmentalizing because I know that if I start worrying about it now, I'll fall apart. I have no plan. I have no job, not a lot of money and at this point no clue as to where I'll be living in six months. But saying that doesn't freak me out as much as it should right now because it's still six months away. A lot happens in a week for me, six months is a lifetime at this point.

That being said, check back with me after Christmas. It'll be a different story I'm sure.

panorama ding dong

A life update will come soon, but as I'm in the middle of some reading and still have about 50 pages to go tonight, that can't happen now.

But, as I was doing this reading for my Methodologies in Art History class, I stumbled upon this really cool website when I looked up a piece of contemporary art that was being described.

It's called gigapan. It takes high resolution images, especially panoramas, and allows you to zoom in, zoom out and view different sections of the image in seriously high definition. Totally cool.

This easily distracted me for 15 minutes.

yes we can.

Standing on the edge of history, I'm brought to my knees with tears in my eyes by the power of the unified voice of the people. Today, I am so proud to be an American. I am so proud to have voted in this historic election and to have been accompanied by one of the highest voter turnouts in history. I am proud to say that our democracy works. I am proud to say that for the first time in its nearly 300-year history, the United States has broken tradition in the search for change and hope and has spoken its mind in the favor of a new way of looking at the world, a way that ceases to recognize strength and wisdom, leadership and truth based on the color of skin.

I am proud to align myself with a party that has never ceased to fight for the equality and good of all people. But it is in the following days, weeks, months and years that we as Americans must look to ourselves to see past the colors red and blue and on to the bigger issues that we're facing. Both candidates recognize we are only as strong as we are united. Party politics is petty and divisive, and now is a time for unity and change.

"Where we breathe we hope. Yes, we can."




check out The Pendulum coverage

peaches

I spent the weekend in Atlanta with the freshmen Journalism and Communications Fellows. It was a blast. I made some new friends, and some excellent contacts and had a great time visiting a new city.

From Thursday to Saturday we were a whirlwind of nice clothes, clicky heels, notebooks and questions. I was placed with the strategic communications (PR) and print journalism group. We went to Atlanta Magazine (met the group at CNN briefly, see below), the Weather Channel, Weber Shandwick (the PR firm that holds the accounts for the got milk? campaign and Coca Cola), and Turner Field where the Braves play. I've posted some pictures below.

Unfortunately, I didn't get to visit the High Museum. It'll just give me another reason to go back to Atlanta.

In other big news -- The Pendulum was just awarded third place in the Pacemaker awards competition by the Associate Collegiate Press for our online election coverage package, and was given Best of Show for our Oct. 29, 2008 issue. This is huge, these awards are considered the Pulitzer Prizes of collegiate journalism. I'm so proud!

OK, on to the photos:
This is the view from my hotel window. We stayed in the Marriot Marquis, it was a beautiful hotel, the interior architecture is fabulous. I had my own room, care of Elon, and enjoyed a king-sized bet to myself.

This is the whole group in front of the CNN sign in Atlanta. Half the group went to the studio, then the rest of us met up with them for a photo-op. (I'm the one in the white shirt and brown pants.)

This is the view of Turner Field from the press box. We were taken on a tour of the press box and video production booth and then onto the field itself.

This is all of us in the dugout. (Green skirt, front row.)

And that's me, in the dugout feeling fully major league

when it rained on tuesdays

Today was the first Tuesday this semester that it has not rained. It has consistently rained every Tuesday since the first day of classes. Invariably, the day after every grueling Monday production night, the zombie day after has been met by gray skies and at least a chance of showers, if not a fully functional downpour.

But not today. Today wasn't particularly dreary at all. It was sunny, a little windy and crisp. Yesterday was, both personally and percipitatively (Is that a word?) miserable. Dreary inside, dreary outside.

I've been struggling lately with an overbooked schedule and an overworked mind. I like to be busy and I'm pretty good at organizing my time. But the past few days I've been in over my head. It all came to a head yesterday as I sat at 8 a.m. still working on finishing reading I'd abandoned at midnight from the night before, desperately trying to stay awake over my Cheerios. I realized as I looked at the little life rafts floating in my milk that if I didn't slow down, I'd be needing more than one Bethany-sized life raft to keep me from drowning.

The stress has passed -- today was the biggest day of the week for things to be finished. The rest of the week will be easier (and supposedly sunny also): I'm seeing Minus the Bear with Kiersten tomorrow night and then am heading down to Atlanta for the weekend with the Journalism and Communications Fellows. That's not exactly a holiday, but it will be a welcome change of scenery.

I often find it odd how one day can be so different from the last. It's cliche, but hindsight is completely 20/20. Historical perspective is absolutely everything. I think that's something I need to remember, when things look bad, just give it a little time and don't forget to carry the umbrella.

well done

Speaking of duty, my cousin Cooper made the front page of the Washington Post today for his work in the Peace Corps in Mizque, Bolivia. He's been there for two years, working very very hard for the benefit of those he's grown to know and love there. He and the rest of the Peace Corps volunteers were evacuated from Bolivia a month ago and the program was dissolved. Cooper chose to return to Mizque to finish his work there. He'll be back to the United States in February, most likely, and I cannot wait to see him when he returns. I'm so proud of him and his dedication to the work he's done.

Well done, Coop. Well done.

Policy and Passions Collide in Bolivia

civic duty

I voted in my first presidential election today. I filled in my absentee ballot, No. 2 pencil in hand as I ate my Cheerios. I voted for Board of Education, a bunch of constitutional amendments and my representative to Congress should I choose to live in Montgomery County again sometime soon.

I expected it to be a bigger deal, like all of a sudden there would be patriotic music that chimed in when I plopped it into the mailbox, or there would be little flags waiving behind me as I penciled in my bubbles. Not so much. Maybe in my head. But it's still significant, I think, that I did it. I took the time, and the 53 cents to cast my ballot and let my voice be heard.

On my way back from break yesterday, I was sitting in the airport waiting for my flight, and I was eavesdropping on this girl's conversation with the guy next to her. I've owned up to eavesdropping before, people just fascinate me. I can't help it. But she was talking about how disgusted she was by politics and that's why she wasn't voting. She didn't feel any sort of loyalty to either major party candidate, and just didn't care. And then she launched into how she thought her vote wouldn't make a difference anyway, and how she was sick of all the problems in America. Now, let me be honest, I don't deign to claim that I'm so idealistic to believe that my one liberal vote in a county that historically always goes blue makes that great of a splash. But, I do think that it's important to exercise my duty as a citizen in a democratic society.

I could rant and rave at this for a few hours and a multitude of pages. But it frustrates me that part of her argument dealt with how sick of America she was and how tired she was of politics as usual. I understand this. I get a little weary of listening to the candidates sling mud and bad-mouth each other. Studies have proven that this is the quickest way to reduce voter turnout. If this girl is so sick of America and business as usual, then I don't think she has any excuse not to vote. Anyone who says politics doesn't affect them is badly informed. What happens in Washington touches everyone. Apathy itself is a political choice, but no one is truly apathetic.

Personally -- if you don't vote, you don't get to complain. Don't give up your opportunity not only to declare yourself and make a difference, but to give yourself the right to say, hey, I didn't like that guy, but we'll get it next time.

Oh, and here's the other thing: It's free. In an economy this bad, anything free is basically awesome. So why wouldn't you do it?