I could spit on a stranger

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

I’m a little late jumping on this bandwagon …

1.Choose a band / artist and answer ONLY in lyrics of THEIR songs:
Nickel Creek

2. Are you male or female:
You’re trying on a brand new dress
But you haven’t worn the old one yet

3. Describe yourself:
Standing on a darkened stage
Stumbling through the lines
Others have excuses, I have my reasons why

4. How do some people feel about you:
Gray is the color I see around her
She’s just a blur

5. How do you feel about yourself:
Hey what did I do?
I’ve spoken too soon

6. Describe your ex boyfriend / girlfriend:
Honey, I’m a prize and you’re a catch and we’re a perfect match
Like two bitter strangers

7. Describe current boyfriend / girlfriend *or lack thereof*:
Nobody’s happy while feeling alone

8. Describe where you want to be:
It’s foreign on this side but it feels like I’m home again
There’s no place to hide, but I don’t think I’m scared

9. Describe how you live:
You’ve got to chase a dream
One that’s all your own
Before it slips away

10. Describe how you love:
It’s not like I want to get married
I never asked you to kiss me
I just don’t want you to be sorry
You didn’t try

11. What would you ask for if you had just one wish:
I’m just happier being confused beside the fire, as long as it’s with you

12. Share a few words of wisdom:
Where can a dead man go?
A question with an answer only dead men know
But I’m gonna bet they never really feel at home
If they spent a lifetime learning how to live in Rome

Keep me responsible, be it a light or heavy load

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

I have been thinking about some big words lately … words like redemption, and freedom, and community, and sanctification. And love, and sin. I could define them for you, and I think I’d probably do an OK job. (Words are my business, after all.) But when it comes down to reality, to life, I’m not always sure what they really mean.

I’ve only been a Christian for six years (just passed my anniversary this week — yes, I am the kind of person who keeps track of such things). But in my limited experience, it seems that the older I get, the more sinful I realize myself to be.

I don’t know whether that means I am more sinful than I was in college or if I’m just more realistic and honest. I tend to think it’s the latter, but it could be both, I don’t know. But it seems to be happening all around me — with my friends, with people I don’t really keep in touch with, with my co-workers.

Sometimes I’ll see someone else’s sin and recoil. I wonder how they could do that, and what’s gone wrong that led them to this point. I wonder how their walk with God is.

And then I look at my own life and realize how completely hypocritical I am.

I guess I always thought I was doing pretty well because so many of my pet sins are socially acceptable. I’m a workaholic in the making — many people would probably see that as an admirable thing. 😉 I’m a bit vain and totally self-centered. (I wish I weren’t self-centered.) But I don’t drink too much, I don’t steal, I don’t murder, I don’t sleep around, and somehow I think this makes me better.

One thing I love about my church (both here and in Birmingham) is that I’m repeatedly reminded of how fallen I am. I always have to laugh that the moment of silent confession is so short, because I have so, so much to confess.

But I am also reminded of Jesus’ grace.

We sang “Come Thou Fount” in church this morning, and it’s one of those that always gets me a little emotional. This verse is my favorite, and only increasingly so with each passing year.

Oh to grace how great a debtor
Daily I’m constrained to be!
Let Thy goodness, like a fetter
Bind my wandering heart to Thee
Prone to wander, Lord I feel it
Prone to leave the God I love
Here’s my heart, O take and seal it
Seal it for Thy courts above

Protected: Even now in death, you open doors for life to enter

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

Tuscaloosa decided to hire the other girl for the reporting position. I found out today, and just for the record, I am extremely proud of how professional I was when they told me. (I even smiled. Can you believe that?)

They said she had more “depth reporting” experience, and they really wanted that on this beat. (I haven’t read her stuff outside of the article she wrote on her interview and the stuff she did during her internship as our Washington correspondent, so I don’t know.)

Yeah, I’m irritated. I knew it was coming (I’m smart like that) but I’m irritated. And my first instinct is to turn in my two weeks notice, but I’m more rational than that. I do need to consider how long I want to stay here in a temp position doing something that I really don’t like (it’s hard to schedule job interviews around this crazy schedule, after all) but I’m not going to do anything rash and I’m really not going to do anything until after my interview in Texas next week.

Oh, and in case you were wondering, they DID tell me “well if you change your mind and decide you want to be a copy editor full time, let us know.” They keep RAVING about how good I am at it. (I’m actually a terrible copy editor, I’m a pretty decent designer I guess.) Whatever.

On with the show.

Wake me up when September ends

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

I’m kind of a nostalgic girl anyway, but three random memories hit me today …

1. I’ve had a serious hankering to work in downtown Birmingham lately. I miss the thrill I got from walking down those busy streets on my lunch break. I always felt so metropolitan (OK, or like a little girl playing dress up) when I crossed to the AmSouth-Harbert Plaza for lunch and coffee. I loved browsing the library’s new books, arriving at the check-out counter with arms so heavy laden that I had to carry my loot back to work in a grocery bag.

And well, I miss the work too. I loved that magazine, loved my editor, loved the designers, loved the location, loved what I wrote about, loved getting to write …

Mmmm yeah. Getting to write.

2. The temperature has dropped slightly tonight. It’s not much, given that it’s still September and I live in Alabama, but it’s enough to build anticipation for the coming autumn. I left work for dinner tonight and walked through the parking lot with my eyes closed, inhaling the nearly-crisp air and imagining the trees changing colors.

(My executive editor walked by as I was doing this. I think he thought me a bit strange.)

As I circled through an off-ramp on my way back to work, I had a sudden flashback to an end-of-the-semester hayride and bonfire during my Florida State days. I can’t recall whether it was the end of my senior year or my last semester at FSU, when I was a grad student. All I can tell you is that it was deliciously cold and I was in a loner sort of mood.

I brought my roommate’s dog with me to the bonfire, providing a handy defense mechanism for those introverted moments. (When you’re busy chasing a dog, it’s easy to slip out of conversations unnoticed, or to avoid getting terribly deep with anyone.)

Come to think of it, I believe it was my last semester at FSU. I’m not sure why I was feeling so anti-social — I probably should have been soaking in all the people-time I could get. But maybe my departure was the cause of my melancholy.

3. As I neared the office, “Please” by The Kinleys came on the mixed tape I was playing. Every time I hear that song (which is, well, not terribly often) I recall the night I broke up with my first boyfriend.

We were sitting in my 1990 Honda Accord parked outside his house. I don’t remember why we got in the car, exactly, I only remember thinking that his mother probably thought we were making out instead of breaking up.

I don’t remember what was said or really much of how he reacted (though I know I was bawling and he tried to comfort me, even though he was the one being dumped). What stands out in my mind is “Please” trickling through the speakers … and although it’s a song about trying not to break up, it still reminds me of that night.

I think it’s kind of amazing that I still have a mixed tape from that long ago.

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.

Am I the habit you’re too tired to break

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

I need a hug.

Not for any big reason — no crazy nights resulting in tears and driving around town for an hour tonight. (I wouldn’t be home already if that were the case. 🙂 )

I’m just tired, a little burnt out, plenty stressed. …and at the same time, I’m bordering on optimistic, feeling a little ambitious and itching to put down roots. (Well, one- to three-year deep roots, but roots nonetheless.)

I’m not sure if some of those emotions are contradictory, but that’s where I am today.

You know everything I say, but not a word that I heard

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

This sort of day reminds me a big of graduate school. And isn’t it weird that these memories are far enough gone that I feel justified in calling them memories?

I’ve spent the day thus far idly listening to music, occasionally instant messaging friends, making coffee and reading. Later I’ll go in to work, but it feels just like the days when all I had were night classes.

My front porch now overlooks downtown Tuscaloosa instead of downtown Northport, and it’s too hot to haul my laptop outside to write. Besides, my computer isn’t as reliable now as it was this time two years ago.

Two years ago.

Where has the time gone? I’m too young to think life is speeding by, but sometimes it sure feels that way.

Two years ago I attended orientation at UA (on crutches), then began classes and met people with whom I’m still friends. I decorated my apartment with my new roommate and spent my days jotting down my thoughts, when I wasn’t in class (and let’s be honest — often when I was!).

And now I guess I’m a professional. That didn’t strike me as odd until I realized that this is the first fall in 20 years that I won’t be going to school.

I told Philip the other day that I’m a little bit jealous of him. I don’t want (or need) another degree, but I loved being a graduate student. And isn’t it weird that I spent so much effort rushing to get my bachelor’s only to love the years I spent in grad school?

I actually keep some of my grad school texts on my bedroom shelves. I kind of miss studying. (I even spent part of the morning reading a newspaper design book.) Philip has promised to keep me posted on how much work he’s doing so I can kill the urge to enroll … but I still think that if I ever get a job that offers tuition reimbursement, I’ll find a way to put it to use.

We raise our glasses to puzzle pieces…

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline.
2 Timothy 1:7

I’ve been all over the place, emotionally, in the last few weeks. I guess that’s kind of keeping with my personality; my best friend has been really into this Myers-Brigg personality stuff lately, and I am such a feeler. My emotions run deep and sometimes drive me more than they ought.

So I guess it’s kind of normal, for me, to experience these extreme (though not manic) highs and lows. I was freaking out several days ago about work, and now I feel like I could stick it out a few months.

I guess it’s just that, even with all my stress, I’ve begun to feel that this is somewhere I could stay for a while. I feel like I’m really connecting with a few friends and just having a generally fun time with others. I’m starting to develop a sense of community, and that’s desperately important to me. I love that even some of my newer friends will call when they’re worried and offer hug-like thoughts from miles away. I’m optimistic about church, though it’s early yet.

What I’m saying is that, although I don’t know what to expect from week to week, I feel like I fit in west central Alabama. I’ve got at least a dozen people who really care about me in an 80 mile radius, and that warms my heart (cheesy as it sounds). I get a little scared, and I don’t know where I’m going, but I know that He — and you! — will still be there.

And all today’s uncertainties
And all of my impatience
Will just be flecks of color
In the picture that He’s painting
–Tara Leigh Cobble

I wonder sometimes about the outcome of a still verdictless life

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

I definitely just scrubbed my ankle with nail polish remover.

I swear I’m sane.

I have lots of twentysomething uncertain insecure happy-go-lucky arrogant confused thoughts running through my head. While I attempt to sort them out, I’ll leave you with a few lines from one of my favorite John Mayer songs. (I am still obsessed with this song, more than three years after I first fell in love with it. I really REALLY want to go to Oak Mountain today instead of going to work.)

(Hmmm. Anyone wanna go stomp around on Oak Mountain this weekend?)

So what, so I’ve got a smile on
But it’s hiding the quiet superstitions in my head
Don’t believe me
When I say I’ve got it down

Everybody is just a stranger but
That’s the danger in going my own way
I guess it’s the price I have to pay
Still “everything happens for a reason”
Is no reason not to ask myself

Am I living it right?