Our hearts are traveling faster

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

Oh the joys of life as a pet owner. My buddy Wes and I have been trading pictures of our cats over IM, and Luke and I have been discussing dogs. Non-pet people don’t understand why this would be a worthwhile discussion after midnight on a Monday morning, but those of you who house and love animals know the truth.

Princess Emerald Louise
Emma knows that the media pay her mommy, and her mommy buys her food.

Contessa Topaz Jealous
Tessa is really my dog. Don’t tell Heather.

Lady Lilly Ann
“Lemme outside! Now! Now! Now!” Lilly thinks you don’t understand unless she says it thrice.

It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

When I walked in to work this morning, my managing editor (aka one of the “big bosses,” for those of you not in the industry) told me I did a great job on today’s local news section front. 🙂 He said not only did it look great, but I also wrote great headlines. He even said “I know you don’t want to be a copy editor long term, but you really need to save this one for your portfolio.”

I am not overly concerned

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

My right tonsil is swollen, and I’ve woken myself up twice already tonight with coughing. And cough drops don’t really help because of it being a tonsil thing (at least, I guess that’s why). I almost want to stay awake because I don’t cough quite as much when I’m awake. And webmd.com says I need to go to the doctor, but my lack of insurance suggests otherwise. Oh man.

Every Bama man’s behind you, hit your stride

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

I seem to take pictures less frequently in my old age (I really think it’s because Alisa’s not here anymore — I took a crapload when we were roommates). So I don’t have a lot to memorialize this weekend’s football game, but here they are … basking in the reflected glory of a ‘Bama win.

crimson
Warm ups and stuff … just because I like crimson.

go seminoles!
Go Seminoles! I always wear my FSU hat to the biggest Alabama games because I always wore my Alabama hat to the Florida–Florida State games. And well, Philip isn’t a bama fan, so what do you expect? (I insisted we take this picture before the game started in case I was in a bad mood later. That proved unnecessary.)

ROLL DAMN TIDE
This was just before we rammer jammered the hell out of them. 🙂 Final score

rammer jammer
Decided to take pictures at Innisfree – this is with one of the Chrises. (How do you spell Chris when it’s plural? It wouldn’t be Chris’s, ’cause that’s possessive.) I should’ve got a pic with the other one, too, but I guess he’s always there. :shrug: Actually, I guess I only took this picture at innisfree. Oh well. He went to my parents’ high school.

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.

Philip Randall Morgan is my favorite person in the whole entire world at this moment

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

Randall has two l’s, right?

He got me a Florida ticket.

All I have to pay is $35 for the upgrade.

I literally almost cried.

And then I ran and danced around the newsroom. My co-workers thought I had gotten a job. No, no. It’s football.

It’s more important than a job. C’mon people.

😉

ROLL DAMN TIDE!

Who knows the answers? Who do you trust?

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

I’m feeling every bit of this song today. I have a second interview here. I don’t know what to think of it, but I guess I’ll let you know tonight or tomorrow.

Twentysomething
Jamie Cullum

After years of expensive education,
a car full of books and anticipation,
I’m an expert on Shakespeare and that’s a hell of a lot
but the world don’t need scholars as much as I thought.

Maybe I’ll go travelling for a year,
finding myself or start a career.
I could work for the poor though I’m hungry for fame
we all seem so different but we’re just the same.

Maybe I’ll go to the gym, so I don’t get fat,
aren’t things more easy with a tight six pack?
Who knows the answers? Who do you trust?
I can’t even separate love from lust.

Maybe I’ll move back home and pay off my loans,
working nine to five answering phones.
Don’t make me live for my friday nights,
drinking eight pints and getting in fights.

I don’t want to get up, just let me lie in,
leave me alone, I’m a twenty something.

Maybe I’ll just fall in love that could solve it all,
philosophers say that that’s enough,
there surely must be more. Ooooh

Love ain’t the answer nor is work,
the truth eludes me so much it hurts.
But I’m still having fun and I guess that’s the key,
I’m a twenty something and I’ll keep being me.

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.