I just realized this weekend that I will only have six hours between me and my master’s degree come May of this year.
That’s right, six. You can practically count ’em on one hand.
I’m pretty happy with that.
And it’s you I see but you don’t see me
Mmmm. It’s been ages since I’ve spent a weekend alone. Chris Martin is crooning at me from my television set as the rest of the band provides background. A bottle of my favorite “low carb light beer” is perched atop my history notebook – an able coaster while I pause from this paper. (Lest you think me an alkie, it’s one drink. Any more than that when I’m alone leaves me worrying about myself. 😉 ) The aforementioned notebook is kept company by a host of library books. A stack of some 50-odd magazine and newspaper articles will soon join the party. My apartment is hoppin’ tonight. 😉
Though this weekend promises to be slow, I think sometimes sacrificing a good time in favor of something else is worthwhile. For one, it’s not often that I have the apartment to myself at night. I don’t miss it, really, but I feel that I should take advantage anyway. A little CJ time never hurt anybody!
More importantly, my intent is to invest my weekend in schoolwork. Yeah, I’m a stick in the mud. But besides authoring a brilliant paper that will examine the characteristics of journalists at the turn of the 20th century, I’m freeing myself up for the next week.
On Tuesday evening, I’ll arrive in Jacksonville, Florida. This will be my first trip home in four months. I’d say it’s about dang time! Until now, I’ve never missed Jacksonville. When I moved away in August of ’99, I never looked back. Then, my only regret was that I was still in state. Now, I’m counting the days till I head back. Bring on that “wretched little town”! 😉
I’ve grown quite a bit in the past four months. I was reflecting on this earlier today, and realized that I could probably utter those words after any given four month period and they’d be just as true. Still, this is a natural time for reflection. I’m not the same girl today as I was the last time I was in Jacksonville – nor do I think I’ll be the girl I am now on my next visit.
Growth is a beautiful thing. (And on that note… back to the history paper.)
I’m paying $400 an hour for this?!
Twenty-two years of experience have taught me at least one thing: life doesn’t always happen as you expect.
I’m bored – not because I’m doing homework, and not because I’ve been home most of the day. I’m just restless – again. I’m tired of school, and I want to live my life, not study the lives of others.
Maybe this is a problem that never really goes away.
Graduate school isn’t shaping up to be what I thought it would. I came here because I wanted to sharpen my writing skills. That has happened, but that’s been secondary to my coursework. Most of my time is spent learning how to research, studying communication theories, and poring over history books.
That’s not how I planned to spend my money.
I suppose that’s poor planning on my part. I’ve had the program description handy for more than a year and a half. I knew that these core classes were part of the deal.
But no – read these course descriptions. This is the sort of stuff I thought I was signing up to study – but none of these courses have been offered in the past two or three semesters, nor are they available this spring.
JN 512 Editorial Writing and Function. Three hours. Study of the role, function, and construction of editorials and practice in editorial writing.
JN 515 Magazine Writing and Editing. Three hours. Writing and marketing of magazine articles. Study of technical, industrial, employee, and general-circulation magazines.
JN 520 Advanced Editing and Design of Publications. Three hours. Lecture and laboratory. Study, research, applications, and production of traditional and online newspapers, magazines, and related media, including managing and organizing newsrooms, graphics departments, and production departments. Demographics and research of audiences for different news and information products; formulation of policy.
JN 525 Literary Journalism I. Three hours. Studies in nonfiction. Includes extensive writing in this genre.
JN 526 Literary Journalism II. Three hours. Studies in nonfiction. Includes extensive writing in this genre.
The only “professional” classes offered during the year I intend to spend in this program are Creative Non-Fiction (which I’ll take next semester!) and Depth Reporting (which didn’t fit into my schedule this semester.) I feel cheated.
I didn’t come here for an “academic” education – I don’t want to be a professor. I want to be a journalist. This program offered me that opportunity, but now that I’m halfway through a semester, I’ve realized that it isn’t here.
I’m not planning to drop out – this time! I’m just disappointed. Within the next year or so, this program is making a change that promises to transform it into everything I had hoped for in graduate study.
Meanwhile, I got the raw end of the deal.
I get the Friday fever and the Monday morning blues
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And you people wonder why I don’t update more often than I do…
Friday, October 3, 2003
{my “day off”}
6:30 A.M. – Hit snooze
6:39 A.M. – Hit snooze
6:48 A.M. – Attempt to bounce cheerfully out of bed. At least manage to get out of bed and into full upright position.
6:49 A.M. – Time to get ready
7:20 A.M. – Crap. I don’t know where I’m going this morning. Get online to find directions.
7:40 A.M. – Grab a granola bar and hit the road.
8:00 A.M. – Escorted to journalism class by a CHS student. I don’t think I’ve ever been the racial minority before.
8:05 A.M. – Spend almost two hours assisting journalism class with newspaper
10:00 A.M. – Home. Check email, schedule appointments to meet with professors for a class project.
11:00 A.M. – Is it only eleven? I’m wiped. Naptime.
12:00 noon – Hit snooze
12:09 P.M. – Dang it. Reluctantly roll out of bed. Check email. Change away message – “I don’t wanna do homework!”
12:20 P.M. – Lunch
1:00 P.M. – Time to hit the libraries
1:30 P.M. – Search Reading Room for materials related to history research paper
2:30 P.M. – Read journalism education resources; take notes for writing summaries
3:00 P.M. – Read history article; search library for history paper materials
3:45 P.M. – Laugh as I walk down the library steps, which are serving as a makeshift stage for an ambitious actor
3:47 P.M. – Take a breather as I walk to my car; this is college life.
3:50 P.M. – Graham calls; accept assignment for newspaper story
4:15 P.M. – Final library stop of the day
4:20 P.M. – Read yet another history chapter
4:50 P.M. – Reward myself with carmel apple cider and purchase coffee creamer at Target
5:15 P.M. – Check email; learn that I need to spend tomorrow in Monroeville, AL. Must do homework.
5:30 P.M. – Eat dinner, watch Friends
6:30 P.M. – Write papers
7:30 P.M. – Write papers while watching second half of Miss Match
8:00 P.M. – Write papers
10:00 P.M. – Print papers
10:15 P.M. – Reward self by reading latest Entertainment Weekly on front porch; realize that even my leisure time is consumed with work. Such is life in the media. Swoon over Josh Lucas photo.
10:45 P.M. – Discuss innie, outtie, and in-betweenie belly buttons with Alisa.
10:50 P.M. – Get ready for bed
11:00 P.M. – Bore you with this entry
11:45 P.M. – Set alarm clock for 8 A.M. – I get to SLEEP IN tomorrow. And then drive.
Yes, yesterday’s post was infinitely better. But now do you realize why I can’t write daily?
These are days you’ll remember
A year has passed.
She sits at what she’s beginning to think of as “her table” in her favorite coffee house, soaking up the atmosphere and reflecting on the past 365 days.
It’s been a long walk to get here, and much of it covered rocky ground. Her feet are calloused, and her knees tender. As she looks about the coffee shop and sips on her strawberry tea, she again wonders why it happened this way. All things happen for a reason – a belief she clings to – but even now, she doesn’t know what that reason could be.
Perhaps she’ll never know. She thinks that to herself and nods. That would be okay; she doesn’t have to solve all of life’s mysteries. Ambiguity – in some instances – is acceptable.
In any case, she’s come to accept the circumstances of the past year as lessons well learned. The uncertainty and magnified insecurities were scary at the time, yes. But she looks back to who she was twelve months ago, and she knows the changes have been for the better. At last, she’s beginning to consider herself a woman, not merely a little girl lost.
She has become her own friend. She has the confidence to pursue her dreams, but the presence of mind to know that things won’t always work out as she hopes. She’s prepared to face either situation. Risks are no longer something only other people take, but journeys that she too is willing to embark on.
Tangible evidence of the changes of the last year is something that she lacks. The stamp left on her life, though, bears witness to the good that trials may bring.
I’m running and not quite sure where to go
So I’m sure that this won’t come across as artfully as it could, as I’m still battling a dizzy spell that swept in about half an hour ago. It settled in during my quiet time, which ordinarily would frustrate me. My time with God is never as satisfying to me when I’m sick, as I struggle to focus and my mind has trouble wrapping itself around anything remotely deep. Dizziness doesn’t help such a situation. Tonight, however, those road blocks didn’t get me down so much.
Lately, I’ve really been struggling with what direction my life is taking. That’s really been a theme of the past year – sometimes I look back and get upset with myself for the lack of progress I’ve made. But God is good, and He’s really taught me quite a bit through these trials. I was really questioning whether I wanted to go back to school at all last week, but I have come to the conclusion that I was (basically) running from commitment. That’s not an attractive quality, now is it? 🙂
I am a little frightened to say “this is what I’m going to do with my life” about a certain career or what have you. That’s a pretty big deal. But to continue running is immature and, quite honestly, spitting in the face of my God. He has created me to glorify Him, and refusing to do that by utilizing the gifts He has bestowed upon me doesn’t strike me as the wisest avenue to take.
So I’m praying. What are those gifts, and how can I best use them? (The struggle that has marked the past several years of my existence continues – who am I?) In doing so, I pull out a graduation card given to me by a dear friend just barely less than a year ago. I look up the verses that she gave to me, and again, God encourages me with His word.
My heart is stirred by a noble theme
as I recite my verses for the king;
my tongue is the pen of a skillful writer.
Psalm 45:1
Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God’s grace in its various forms. I Peter 4:10