I’m wide awake, it’s morning

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

OK first off, there’s this adorable little redheaded girl at the next table over, and she is totally making me want to have children. I want redheaded babies, did I ever mention that? Or well, not necessarily babies, plural, but I’d like one.

That’s probably why I agreed to go out with that crazy redhead that one time, but well, crazy isn’t going to keep me around. After all, I’ve got redheads in my gene pool already.

But enough about the children that I’m not yet ready to have.

I’m soaking in the small town atmosphere in this random city I’ve found. My accent is thickening and I’ve been recognized several times. (Yes. Recognized. They ran our pictures with a short article about staffing changes the first Sunday I was here.) I’ve had senior citizens imply that they want to set me up (with who, I have no idea) and I’ve found every place with wireless internet access (I think).

And so far, I like it.

The novelty will wear off, I’m sure, and there will be days where I’m frustrated with the lack of anything to DO in this town. (Why do you think I’m sitting on the internet on a Friday night?) I’m already frustrated with the lack of furniture options. 🙂 (I’m sitting on the internet because I got tired of sitting on my living room floor.)

But it’s fun. It’s different, and it’s an opportunity — all the things I said it would be before I took the job. I’m still working with the future in mind, though I haven’t written anything that I’m too, too excited about just yet. But then, my first three assignments in Tuscaloosa were about a brick and mortar workshop, a college page story and an eight inch story about Stillman’s graduation. I feel comfortable with this start.

I could stand to find some friends, though.

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.

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.”

Protected: and every other girl would fly away

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

At long last, somebody is recognizing my true worth and flying me out to a job interview. 🙂

I’ve never been flown to an interview before! I’m so excited!

I’ll be in Amarillo (yes, Amarillo. Yes, Texas.) October 24 and 25, I believe (details to be arranged tomorrow). I’m interviewing at the newspaper, and they have openings for a features writer, cops reporter and general assignment reporter.

I’m also hoping Jackson will actually call my references (but since it’s been almost a week since they called me already, I’m not holding my breath), and I’m applying for a job at the company where my friend Kristen works (which has FL and DC locations).

The real question is, where does Emma want to live next?

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.

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.

Protected: It’s alright ’cause I’m moving on

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

I’m feeling better — still disappointed — but better.

Here’s the deal. Yesterday one of the “big bosses” called me into his office to talk about my current job. (For those of you who have missed it, I’m copy editing and designing right now instead of reporting. And I want to report.) So I was putting the positive spin on things — you know, “It’s making me a more well-rounded journalist” and “Though I really want to be on the other side of the newsroom, I want to do the best I possibly can and learn all I’m able over here.”

And then he drops the bomb.

Apparently two or more reporters will have to leave before they hire one replacement.

What?! Why have I been told all along that they would love to hire me if something would just open up? Why am I just NOW finding out that it’s really TWO somethings that would have to open up?

This is all made worse by the fact that they’ve hired people since I began there. They came after me, but I got a temp job and they’re full time. That’s discouraging.

And I was also just feeling so hopeful the day before… the girl who I initially came to fill in for is looking very much like she’s going to leave. I was just saying I could stick it out on the copy desk for a while if I knew that job was waiting for me.

So yeah, this sucks. But I’m still job hunting, and something will happen somewhere. I mean, it COULD happen here still. It’s just more unlikely than I ever thought.

It’s not hard to grow when you know that you just don’t know

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

Just when I thought we might be getting somewhere… just when I thought things might be taking a turn for the better… just when I had a little hope about the day-to-day… they burst my bubble and tell me it’s probably just not going to happen this year.

And yes, it’s August. That means five months until they anticipate being able to hire me.

I don’t think I’ll be here that long. At least, without a “real job,” I hope not.

But damn. I want to be.

Protected: I’m a part of that… aren’t I?

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

The first reporting class I took in j-school was JN311, Intro to Reporting. It was mostly what you’d expect of an introductory course: we covered the five W’s and H, made mention of AP style and were required to do some reporting and writing in a lab setting.

But one day’s lesson stood out. In the second half of the semester we talked about disaster coverage. That sort of situation is exactly why I didn’t want to work at a newspaper–you never know when you’ll be called into a delicate situation, when you’ll be interviewing people whose relatives have just passed away.

Our guest speaker that day was (if I remember correctly) an editor from the local paper. Roughly three years earlier, a significant tornado had hit the city and one of the paper’s photographers was among the first on the scene. The speaker recounted the photographer’s experience as he captured this news-worthy but oh-so-delicate event.

My assignment yesterday wasn’t quite a natural disaster in the sense that a tornado is, but it was the first time I’ve interviewed someone days after they’ve lost a family member. I went through the motions of reporting in something of a haze–I wanted to take down every piece of information I was able and to retell the story for the public, but I wanted to do so with gentleness and respect.

My 25 inch (or roughly 800 word) story ran on the front page of our local section today. I poured all I could into recounting the events of this local family: the granddaughter has been in the hospital with cancer (oh, just visit https://sideeffectsofxarelto.org! its so sad to hear about that kind of drugs), and on Sunday night her grandparents and younger brother were in a car accident while travelling to see her. The grandfather was killed instantly and the grandmother is in critical condition. The boy survived without injury.

I blinked back tears as I met friends of the family and wrote the story yesterday… and again today as I began to receive phone calls and e-mails from readers.

As much as I love magazines, as much as I love a good clip… my life and my work are not about me.