I knew that triple latte meant that Taylor loved me too

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

Copy editing has sucked the life out of me.

I suppose I’ve adjusted a bit — I’m more cheerful around the newsroom than I was when I first began (10 weeks ago!). But the schedule continues to kill me, and I don’t make it any easier on myself by committing myself to these insane obligations.

I left work just before midnight Sunday. That’s an almost nightly occurence. But on that particular night, an hour-long drive to Birmingham awaited. (I needed to be in Atlanta the next day, and I figured I might as well make use of those too-wound-up post-work minutes by driving 60 miles closer to my destination.) I crashed at my aunt’s house around 1 a.m.

Morning came too quickly. After mashing snooze several times, I crawled out of bed at 6:12 a.m. and trusted a hot shower to bring me to a state suitable for driving.

That didn’t exactly work.

I fixed my hair and make up, then put my sweats and Virginia Tech t-shirt back on for the drive to the ATL. (Why get all sweaty and wrinkled in my cute interview clothes, right?) I stopped by O’Henry’s for coffee (in my O’Ho’s travel mug!) and a muffin, then set the cruise control for as fast as I could safely travel.

I didn’t feel awake until I crossed the Georgia state line. That’s probably not the safest way to drive.

I spent the day in Atlanta interviewing (one job, one informational) and hanging out with one of my college roommates. After dinner, she and I, and her husband, crashed on their cozy leather couches in front of several episodes of Friends. I fell asleep on the couch with a cat on my stomach before 9 p.m. Eastern.

Yeah. I was tired.

I moved to my bedroom and read a while before turning in for 10 luxurious hours of sleep. Then at 8:55 a.m. my alarm jerked me awake. For the second day in a row, I was confused as to where I was and why exactly I had to wake up. (That’s never a good way to start the day.)

This morning seems like days ago.

I tried the hot shower thing again, to no avail. I was clean but still exhausted (and battling a serious headache). After lunch with another friend, I grabbed a grande latte from Starbucks and headed out of town.

I finished the latte at about mile marker 198 in Alabama, and pulled off at exit 185 for another. (With that information, you’ll certainly understand the upcoming redesign and renaming of this blog.)

And at 2:30 central, I returned to Tuscaloosa and to work, where I quickly grabbed some painkillers and hot tea to keep me from dying at my desk.

I’m scattered and basically wandering through life in a daze right now. I’m not in a good place, but I’m not in a bad bad place, either.

I’m just burned out, and I don’t have energy for much more than watching Friends and drinking lots and lots of coffee.

Things I learned in North Carolina:

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

1. 600 thread count sheets make my 200 count sheets feel like cardboard. As soon as I have some cash to blow, I’m upgrading.

2. A dog that weighs 10 pounds more than me could probably beat me up, but it’s still nice when she offers her paw first thing in the morning.

3. I spend too much money on coffee. (No… no… I already knew that.)

4. There IS such a thing as a good mocha.

5. Purple goes nicely in a vineyard themed kitchen. 😉

6. It’s been far too long since I’ve seen snow. When I left Winston-Salem yesterday morning, my car was covered in a thin sheet of ice. I therefore thought it peculiar when I spotted cars caked in five inches of the stuff on the interstate, but didn’t wonder about it too much. It wasn’t until today, when people mentioned that NC saw some snow this weekend and inquired if I had experienced any, that I realized it wasn’t ice caked so high on the roof of that car. It was five inches of snow.

Here’s to my patchwork world

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

Let’s do a little recap (yes, even before we get started).

1981 – I was born in Birmingham, Ala.
1988 – After several moves within the city, I move to Jacksonville, Fla.
1990 – My family moves to a different part of Jacksonville.
(Here’s where it gets fun.)
1999 – I move to Tallahassee, Fla., for college.
1999-2002 – I won’t bore you with the details of a plethora in-town moves. I think there were like five of them?
Summer 2002 – I spend two months as a camp counselor in California.
January 2003 – Home, home on the range… er, beach… er, suburbs… I move back to my parents’ house in Jacksonville.
March 2003 – Here I am again, back where I began… or at least 60 miles away. I move to Tuscaloosa, Ala.
Summer 2004 – They always say Campus Crusade summer project will be the best summer of your life, and I never really believed it. But living in Orlando, Fla., for ten weeks with 44 other Campus Crusade for Christ interns was amazing.
August 2004 – With nothing more than a four month commitment on the mind, I return to Birmingham.

I spent the weekend with 21 friends from a number of different states. Georgia and Kentucky aren’t so far away, but Wisconsin, Kansas, New York and others are a heckuva drive. As we laughed at inside jokes (and created new ones!) and shared what the Lord has been doing in our hearts, I couldn’t help but marvel at the oddity that is long distance friendship.

That concept has boggled my mind for years. When I was an eager young Campus Crusader, I never understood why others from my campus would spend so much effort getting to know strangers at Christmas Conference. We’re all going back to different campuses, I thought. Why not focus your energy on the people coming back with you?

In a four day conference setting, I would still maintain that point of view. But as my life progresses, I recognize the value of these friendships.

I’m in a place right now where I don’t have a lot of meaningful friendships. I know people in Birmingham, and it’s getting to the point where I can go out to a movie and not have to do it alone. But the friends who are willing to pray for me regularly and challenge me spiritually are spread throughout the country.

I’ve been a little nostalgic and a little mushy this week, so pardon my non-sensical ramblings. But I look at the number of people in my life who really know and love me, and I feel blessed beyond belief. So right now they’re not in my backyard… but the community I’ve experienced provides both encouragement and a challenge. If God has provided in the past, who am I to say he won’t provide in the present?

Maybe I’ll tangle in the power lines, And it might be over in a second’s time

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

The older I get, the more I understand all the hype about Friends. Though I’m still a bit younger, I’m now in close to the same place in life that the Friends were when the series began. I’m a couple of years out of college and I’m seeking direction for my career. My idea of a good time is conversation over a cup of coffee. And, much like the Friends, a close friend is like a family member to me.

Some critics have argued that the show’s title is a misnomer. True friends don’t kiss one another’s girlfriends. They don’t date, break up, date, break up, get married, divorce, kiss, get pregnant, date…. People are certainly entitled to their opinions. I know it would hinder my relationships if my closest friends were in these situations. But it’s interesting to note that their friendships endure those trials. In that way, they’re a lot like family. No matter what comes between family members, they still share those genetic bonds (like it or not).

That was part of the concept for the show, according to its creators. They wanted to make something that reflected their experiences in their 20s – a time, they said, when your friends are your family.

I can relate to that. Though I’ve always had family within a few hundred miles, it’s been a blessing to take comfort in the friendship of those who were standing beside me. Unfortunately, those friends become more geographically distant as I age.

There, I can understand why reviewers were so quick to accuse the show’s fans of wanting to be these characters. Different as we are in many ways, they have something I want: stability.

Have you noticed that neither Monica nor Joey* move during the show’s entire ten year run? Sure, the others play a game of musical apartments, but that sense of sameness is maintained by the occupation of apartments 19 and 20.

I’m tired of moving. I don’t like that my closest friends are scattered across the country. I would give so much for a purple apartment and a local coffee shop in which to maintain those ties.

*except when they traded apartments after the bet, which never should’ve happened anyway. Who bets an APARTMENT? And yes, I do realize that it was Monica’s fault.

I say a little prayer for you

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

Finally!

Those of you who have been keeping up with my life know that I’ve been searching for an internship since October. Thirteen rejections later, I’ve finally secured a position! It looks like I’ll be spending my summer at Campus Crusade for Christ’s HQ in Orlando, Fla.

Whew.

Now that we’ve established that… this brings up several new thoughts. I’d love your prayer (or wisdom, if you’ve got it!) in any or all of these areas.

1. Support raising. $2500 by June 7… ready, set, GO!
2. Intern for credit. I’m meeting with my adviser on Monday to discuss this possibility.
3. What’s next? My lease will run out while I’m in Florida. I’ve got to decide if we’re renewing through the fall. Is it worth a couple thousand dollars to stay in Tuscaloosa when I won’t even be on campus? Will my roomie move back to California if I leave town? Will I get a fall internship? The questions – and possibilities – are numerous.

This journey of faith continues… 🙂

Bright lights, big city

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

I once toyed with the idea of living on a farm in the middle of nowhere. How precious would it be, I asked myself, to raise animals and babies with my husband? We’d be miles from civilization and only drive into town on special occassions.

WRONG!

I didn’t fully understand it until the past year, but I’ve learned that I am definitely a city girl.

This is one of those things that I didn’t understand until I experienced something different. When I was in high school, I wanted to move out of the South. After I actually visited other places, I realized how much I do love the southeastern United States. (To quote my friend Tara Leigh, “The more I travel, the more I love home.”) Same deal with the city.

According to the U.S. Census Bureau (2000), the county in which I was born has almost 700,000 residents. The city where I was raised is home to roughly one million people. When I moved to the Florida state capitol, I thought we were small time with 200,000 residents.

But then I moved to Alabama.

The city where I first resided houses just under 80,000. The city where I now receive my mail, however, clocks in at just under 20,000. You wanna talk small potatoes? Welcome home.

I just returned home from a visit to Nashville, Tenn. (home to half a million), which is what got my brain workin’ on this again. I love Nashville, and I would move there in a heartbeat, were I presented with the opportunity.

I love the big city feel that it offers. There’s SO much to do – I think you’d have to try pretty hard to get bored with the place. There’s music galore (always a perk in my book), tons of good coffee shops (great for yellowing my teeth! eek!) and perhaps best of all, a million honky tonks! What more could a girl want?

I’ve always said that Tuscaloosa is a great place for right now. Visiting Nashville – heck, even Birmingham – is a great way to remind me of that truth. Dear Lord, please provide me with a job in a big city!

(Speaking of jobs – I heard back from two more internships last week. :-/ Southern Progress and the Florida Times-Union are both out.)