The Daring Driver

It has been four months since I've driven a car. Yesterday added a few challenges to my adventure. I was driving Darren's car (mine is not insured), I was running late to church, and just as I began my adventure it started pouring freezing rain onto the streets. My typical 25 minute drive to church turned into TWO HOURS.
Once I pulled into the church parking lot, I noticed no one was there.

Interestingly enough, I somehow now miss the New York subway system.

Conquered: First Semester

Tomorrow morning I head back to Portland. It's not necessarily the finish of my first semester (I still have a paper due next week), but it certainly feels like an accomplishment.

One of the most difficult questions I've had to deal with is, "Where's your home?" I listed Portland as my "hometown" the other day, because I figured it would make me look more cool to be from the west coast. Other moments, publicizing DC as my hometown seems more appropriate.

I'm excited for a quick change. I think it will be absolutely bizarre walking through my front door and realizing that nearly everything inside is "mine." I've become quite accustomed to living a minimalist lifestyle.

My prospects for an internship are looking upward. I sent in my resume to one television show this morning and had heard from them by the afternoon. I hope something works out for me in the long run! Fingers crossed!

I don't think I could have made it through this semester without the love, prayers and support from you. So thank you for thinking of me and throwing good vibes my way. School is still challenging, but now I've realized that I'm truly supposed to be here. I have no idea what the future holds for me, but I can't wait to see what it is.

F-F-F-Freezing and Finals

I'm up to my ears in papers. For some reason I keep getting assigned more and more work as the semester becomes shorter and shorter. I can't quite figure out how that works.

Luckily, I will be on a plane in 10 days. No, my papers won't be done then. I keep wondering how much of a "break" I'll actually get in Portland!

Other than that: It's freezing. Although I think I look especially cute with a pink scarf and a nose to match, I would prefer warmer temperatures.

I started meeting with a writing tutor and I applied for an internship for next semester. Things are moving along.

Is May here yet?

Thanks From a Theatre Snob

Every week I get a wonderful opportunity to give thanks. Some of my friends added me to their "gratitude list" earlier this year. Each week, each one of us makes up a list of what the past few days has taught us to appreciate. Then we email it to each other. It's a wonderful way for us to keep in touch and to keep things in perspective.

This past week I'm most grateful for my visit from my mom and her best friend, Mary. My mom bought her plane ticket in July and has been talking about the trip NON-STOP since then.

Mom arrived on Wednesday and we headed to The Cloisters. That's where I took this picture.
She's cute, huh?

We were slugs all of Thanksgiving. Thank goodness. I needed it.

Mary arrived on Friday and we all went to see "Spamalot," which is the best show I've seen on Broadway. The actors were "on" through the whole show and they kept my interest and attention the entire time.
For those of you who've ever sat through a show with me, you know how much of a compliment this is for me! I even stood for the standing ovation!
I know!
I can't believe it either!!!

The Rebirth of My Master's Project

First and foremost, thank you to those of you who have been there to offer me some serious support over the past few weeks and especially over the past few days. I am truly blessed to have such wonderful people in my life who truly know me and love me. I have no idea how I ended up so lucky.

My "purging of emotions" has helped pick up my attitude. Thank goodness. Taking risks is a scary but good thing for me.

I wanted to give you an update on what has felt like an ever-evolving master's project. I'm in the midst of making a final pitch for a new topic. I'm going to look at Hip Hop Theater and its struggle to get onto the main stage. The playwrights I've been in contact with so far seem to be pretty willing to talk. I just hope my advisor actually approves it.
The master's project has proven to be a thorn in my side. But from the insight I've gained from my friends -- this is simply a requirement of any master's project.

Otherwise, things are improving.

I found out yesterday that one of my professors enjoyed my most recent reported story. She's going to submit the stories from all of our class members (six of us) to Columbia News Service. It's a wire service. Who knows, it could end up in print! If nothing else, I am just glad to hear that my writing is receiving some positive response among an overwhelming amount of negative feedback. Baby steps.

The radio is already playing 24 hour Christmas music. Funny. I thought Thanksgiving hadn't even arrived yet. I must be confused...

Unmasking Myself

I'm not doing so well.

Ever since arriving at the school, I've asked myself, "why did they let me in here?" I still don't have an answer.
The path was presented so clearly before me that this was where I should be right now. I'm just not so sure whether I need to continue.
Quite honestly, I've never willingly taken on anything as intellectually challenging as this adventure. It has drained me emotionally and spiritually. I seem to feel as if I'm the only one around me who is struggling as much as I.
It's humbling to think I'm not cut out for this.

Before arriving, I knew in my heart that this would open doors I didn't even know existed. It's true, but not as I'd expected; the door that's been opened the most is the one leading to my soul and to my true self. It's difficult to realize that I'm not as smart or as strong as I've convinced myself.
It's heartbreaking.
It's embarrassing.

I typically don't give up on things. It's not only that I see it as a sign of weakness, I also figure, "why not keep going and see what happens?" If nothing else, it'll be a good story to tell about "how I actually managed to make my way out of this." But maybe it's time I wave my white flag on this. I'm just not sure.

The feedback I've been getting from professors has been supportive but not positive. It's hard to admit that.

My mother told me something last night about her move to New York that comforted me. She and my dad moved here after they married. My dad was my age. They had been here only three months (the same amount of time I've been here) when my dad called California to his parents to announce they were coming back home. My grandpa told him they couldn't come back. Apparently my grandparents said they'd told all their friends that my dad was going to be a big success, so he had to stay in New York and prove it. Interesting.
They stayed.
They succeeded.

My mother had a different approach with me. She told me to do whatever I want and somehow convinced me I'm not as much of an idiot as I seem to believe I am.

Then today happened.

I woke up fine, went to class, and then I received a paper back from one of my professors. I came home and cried. Again.
Crying after class seems to work well for me.

So here I am.
A lot of you have asked about how I'm doing.
Well... this is the truth about how I'm doing. I feel useless.
It's cyclical. After publishing this post (although I'm still debating whether to do that), I'll likely go back to feeling okay. I'll take it in stride. I'll tell myself, "You know you'll get through this." Because the truth is, I DO know I can make it through this. I've been put through the ringer in this lifetime, whether it was by my own making or just by "life" being dealt my way. I have potential to learn a lot here -- both in the classroom and inside my own head.
I have no idea how I will be once I make it out of here, but I believe if nothing else, I will be a little more humble and a little more vulnerable.

I'm not allowing any comments on this post. And Aunt Jane and Uncle Don... maybe you could not print this post out for Grandpa. I would like him to continue thinking I'm wearing the mask of an intelligent young person.

Rethinking My Thesis

Oh dear. After last month's trip to DC to do interviews and spending a couple months concocting ideas, the last thing I wanted to hear was advice to "rethink" my thesis. But I did.
So now my topic has changed. I spent my entire weekend online searching for something. My roommates didn't know I was here because I was trapped in my room for so long.
I'm hoping this idea will get approval. But since I'm so superstitious, I'm not going to tell you yet about my new topic. Can you just "feel" that it's a good idea?

Tonight I went out to dinner with a friend of mine from Portland who now lives in Salt Lake. KaRyn's the best. She's a genius. She's beautiful. She's funny.
It's so great to know such wonderful people. She introduced me to one of her friends who now lives here. Old friends and new friends: both are great.
This weekend I'll also get to hang out with my friend, Amber. I know her from Portland too, but she now lives in DC. Portland appears to be a good breeding ground for cool people who move away. What's up with that?
My friend Ashley and I are also going to try and get tickets to "Wicked" this weekend.
I'm glad I get to be around so many great friends who want to spend time with me.

Getting Into the Groove

Things are getting better.

I think.

Every day, I seem to go through a cycle: I constantly feel like I'm keeping my head above water, and just when I feel as if I'm about to fully keep afloat, I sink back down. Ugh.

I met with one of my professors yesterday. He gave me some support and advice on how to improve my writing and how to organize my thoughts. Tip #1: Never Give Up. Tip #2: Start with an outline.
I asked, "Will I ever be able to write without an outline again?"
He answered excitedly, "Faulkner used outlines until the day he died! He would put little pieces of paper outlining his books up on the wall!"
"That's not the answer I was looking for."

I think I'm starting to get my brain working in a different form once again, though. Writing essays is just simply a far different beast than writing for television, so I know I shouldn't be so hard on myself; things just take time.

One of my fellow J-schoolers suggested something our class should look into as an investment. Let me know what you think about this tool kit:

Where Nobody Knows Your Name

I have no idea what the deal is, but I've never had more people mispronounce my name than in the past two months. How difficult is it, really? Some versions I have heard here:
Tamryn
Tuh-MARE-uh
Tuh-MAHR-uh
Cameron
Tara
Tam-uh
Mahr-uh

I've noticed that correcting this mistake is now virtually a habit.
"It rhymes with camera."
"Just ignore the middle 'A'."
"You can just call me Tam."

Very interesting. I even had one guy read my name tag and tell me, "You spelled your name wrong." I have professors who still don't get it. I can't really correct them in the middle of class this far into the semester, can I?

Mom, did you and Dad think it was going to be this hard for me? Did my paternal grandparents really think my name was "Camera" because dad was a photographer? Should I just start going by "Camera" so people think I was raised by cool hippies?

How is it that people can keep track of Sean Puff/P. Daddy/Diddy Combs's names... and they can't even figure out how to pronounce mine? [BTW, he now goes by just "Diddy."]

The Chinatown Bus

I took a trip down to DC this weekend. It was great (as trips to DC typically can be). I took the chinatown bus to get there. Basically, the buses load and unload in Chinatown(s) and it's a pretty cheap trip: $35 roundtrip.

The ride down there was great. I was reading the script for a play that I was going to see later that night for my thesis. I actually had two seats to myself. It was crafty thinking on my part, if I do say so. I piled my stuff into the seat on the aisle and then looked EXTREMELY BUSY with my reading as people walked by. I know. It's horrible and selfish. It was also roomy.

Cathy and Diane picked me up in Chinatown in DC. I had a great weekend. The play was done well and I managed to get some good interviews afterward for my thesis. The next morning I interviewed the dramaturg. "What's a dramaturg?" you ask? It used to be someone who merely offered historical analysis and interpretation of plays. Now, dramaturgs also offer creative insight. They help with the "vision" of the show.

Cathy and I also went shoe-shopping. I practically had a nervous breakdown in the store: too many shoes. I can't handle it! And how, in a store referred to as a "warehouse" could I not find a pair to fall in love with? Oh my. I suppose I was a bit tired...

The trip home was less than desirable. Cathy dropped me off just before midnight in the ghetto to catch the bus. I tried the same tactic as on the way up, but it was in vain. A couple came up and asked if the wife could sit next to me. The husband helped put all my stuff in the overhead compartments. He would sit near her on the other side of the aisle. I decided to trade seats so they could sit together. I gave up a great seat near the window! Oh dear. For the next four hours my head bobbed up and down as I tried to sleep. I then spent an hour waiting for the subway trains to take me home.

My little lesson in karma from the Chinatown bus.

Rain

I fear I might be denouncing my statehood. Today I took a step that defines me as more of a "New Yorker" than and "Oregonian." In fact, I hate that I'm actually admitting it to you -- I bought an umbrella.

At first, I vowed that I wouldn't use it unless necessary. Once the winds picked up and whipped the rough rains in my face, I open the said umbrella. It only took a few minutes before I fell victim to the doom of a cheap purchase: the dome flew back, allowing the brutal rain drops to douse my hair... while I fought to pull back the umbrella to its proper placement. Images of crude scenes from 'Mary Poppins' danced through my head.

This is no Oregon rain.

I decided I would tough it out.

My friend, Stephanie, and I went to a movie tonight. We met up and headed to the theater at Times Square. Her first question, "Where's your umbrella?" I had left it at home, proving that I was a true Oregonian and didn't need a silly, useless piece of black vinyl and wires. Fate took a vengeance on me. The rains fell down even harder and the puddles in the streets grew higher. My hair became more and more plastered to my face... and somehow, water began to rush down my back. The bottom half of my jeans displayed a wet, darkened blue hue... even more evidence of my defeat.

Now, I'm back at home. The first thing I checked: my lonely umbrella sitting alone in my room -- all dried out. I think next time I'll take him along, just so he'll feel as if he has something to do.

The City That Never Sleeps

I get it now. Whoever called New York "The City That Never Sleeps" was likely a grad student at Columbia.

I've been up late studying every night. I typically stay up until 1:30. I haven't stayed up that late on a consistent basis since I was in undergrad, and back then my body could take it!

I went to see La Boheme at the Metropolitan Opera this week. That sounds pretty cool to announce. Then I realize, that opera's performed at the Met every year. So I went to something like it's 1,968th performance. It doesn't make me feel so cool when you say it like that. BUT, it was my first time there! What a beautiful theatre! An absolutely gorgeous grand curtain! And the chandeliers lift up to the ceiling just before the show starts. Good stuff.

I went out for my first interview for my thesis this week. I still haven't figured out whether I'll use it. I'm going to discuss contemporary religious theatre, but I'm not sure what about it.
Anyway, the play I went to cover is called, "Kabbalah." I went to the final callback auditions. I didn't exactly know what I was getting myself into. I just read the articles on its homepage:
http://www.jewishtheater.org/Jewish%20Theater/Press.htm
They hadn't sent me the script because they said it was "still in the works." Okay, so here's the story: a rabbi is reading Genesis and realizes God was cursing Adam and Eve because they clothed their nakedness. So he goes out and preaches nudity to everyone. Apparently, at the end of the show, everyone lines up naked. They've included a Madonna character in the script. The director says the show is not about Kabbalah; it's about faith and how people are too blinded by their religions. If I decide to use this element, I think it will go great against a show where the intentions are based on people who think the world is corrupt and that people are faithless.
So those are just some thoughts.

Luckily, the interview was right near the Empire State Building, so I got to walk around. I didn't go up to the top yet; I'm waiting for friends and family to come visit before doing all the cool stuff.

Also, I think we're finally pulling back from all our talk on theory in one class. Now I have to go back and figure out what we actually talked about. Who is Foucault really? What is deconstruction? What were the influences behind Adorno and Benjamin? We now move on to reading plays in that class. Our first target: Hamlet. Thank goodness.

Rico

I've been quite entertained with the bums so far. In fact, some have left a lasting impression with me.

There are those who scream random thoughts out into the street.
There are those who sleep at night curled up with the books they hope to sell during the day.
And there's even the man who I saw the other day talking with police -- wearing only his droopy boxer shorts. I'm not sure if he were really a bum, but I think his sighting is worthy of categorizing him with the rest.

Then there is my favorite bum so far: Rico.
I've run into Rico a few times, and each time he forgets that he's seen me. Just today I saw him twice -- in two totally different areas of Morningside Heights. He always approaches in a very nice manner with, "Excuse me. Can I ask you something?"
The first time I briefly talked to him.
He thanked me for "not being racist." I found it funny that he assumed all the people who weren't talking to him were racist instead of uninterested in bums.
This morning he saw me as I was finishing up a run in Central Park.
He asked his usual question and then followed with "...oh. You don't have any pockets."
He has a habit of sulking when his efforts go unrewarded. I find it absolutely entertaining.

I have this little game I play in my head every time I see a bum; I ask myself, is he crazy? on something? or just mentally "disabled?" It's a good game, but I can never tell if I'm winning or losing.

There are also the subway bums, which are typically fantastic. There's a group of men who walk through the cars and announce, "Welcome to the Gospel Train!!!" Then they launch into a wonderful Motown quartet. There are also those who sell the homeless newspaper for a dollar. I just think it's great. They're kind, well-spoken, and pretty good at sales!
There are, however, those subway bums who are seeped in the smell of their own urine. They are typically quiet, but their presence never goes unnoticed. They tend to walk through the cars when it's packed, forcing them to rub close to everyone. The stench is so horrid it makes me want to vomit.

I once had a boyfriend my grandfather referred to as a bum. I think he was right. That ex would do well in New York.

I Left My Pride in Portland

I've been repeating my mantra over and over again: I left my pride in Portland.

You would think that would help ease the pain of writing a really bad paper, realizing that all the readings I did never sank in, or feeling as if I'm the only dumb person in the class. I've been seriously wondering if all these feelings will eventually go away. The one thing that gives me solace is knowing that for some reason from providential evidence, I know I am supposed to be here.

School is hard.

I stayed up until 3:00 last night reading and writing. I haven't stayed up that late in years. No, this is not because I've been spending the rest of my time playing. No, this is not because I'm trying to be a perfectionist. It's because I'm simply trying to learn everything I can, and it's just not registering. I just hope this is part of getting into the groove.

Things that are going well:
I have my thesis topic picked out -- mostly. I'm going to do a radio documentary on contemporary theatre and religion. I even have some interviews set up already. In a few weeks, I'll head down to D.C. for the weekend to watch a show and interview some people.

My classes are great. I love all the readings even though I don't understand them. We're learning a lot about the late 19th and early 20th century movements of arts, culture, and journalism. I think I'm going to pick up a copy of Marx's "Communist Manifesto." It's been years since I've read it, and I think it would help.

[Now have the song "Right Here, Waiting for You" in my head. Thank you to those who get it...]

My last two classes of the week are fantastic endings: my theatre class and my radio class; it's kinda' like dessert for me. My radio teacher is Alex Blumberg, who hosts NPR's "This American Life." I love it. I've already done my first radio piece -- all by myself! It's helped reassure me that although my essay writing is lacking, I am strong when it comes to writing for broadcast. I hope my skills will be strengthened even more by the end of the year.

I'm even getting my own radio equipment for my thesis. In fact, my minidisc recorder just arrived. It's really small -- about 3 inches by 3 inches. For some reason, it was shipped to me in a box that would hold a computer monitor. Explain that one.
Now all I need is a good microphone and headphones.
Yes, I'm turning into a geek.
My mom even bought me this really cool device (at Darren's recommendation) that allows me to watch tv on my laptop. Jealous?

Okay, so now I can here the questions coming. "How will you even have time to watch tv, Tam?"
Good question!
I don't!
BUT -- I'm gonna' have to record The Apprentice this season. My friend Shawna's husband is on it ("James"), so you should watch it too.

I think it's time for a nap now. Then I'm going to get up and do some more reading.

9/11 in New York

The subways were as packed as always and the streets were crowded. But church was different than usual. We spent the day remembering what happened in the city four years ago. The bishop stood and read a long entry from his journal, sharing how he felt after the terrorists brought the twin towers to the ground and killed thousands of innocent people.
This timing seems proper in the wake of hurricane Katrina and the many families affected in New Orleans. These are tough times for our country.
Somehow, even though I feel like I'm so far away from everything I know and love, mourning, remembering, and honoring our fellow citizens seems to help connect me to the world and to grander purpose.

My Newest Nephew

Today is my newest nephew's birthday. His name is Steven Keith. Isn't that name the cutest? How great is it that Darren and Rene' used the name Keith? Now my mom will stop bugging us about it! :)
I'm so excited! I love being an aunt!

First Day of School

For the first half of the day, I was absolutely overwhelmed. By the afternoon, I was just irritated.
In our program, we're required to take an elective outside the journalism school. I actually found a class that seems to fit perfectly with my needs in the theatre department: Modern Theory & Criticism. I'm not sure if the professor will let me in the class; he says he's concerned about size. So this has me "shopping" for another class.
I'm now thinking of taking something in the film school. I checked out a couple classes last night (first one was way too big, the second one i could only stand the boring professor for five minutes). I am on the hunt again today.

I know this will all work out, but sometimes it's a little hard to remember. In the meantime, I'm seriously considering doing my thesis as a documentary. I've already signed up for a class learning how to use their shooting and editing equipment. This should be an interesting experience.

Also, I woke up twice last night with a horrible Charlie Horse. I suppose I need to stretch more after all this walking...

Trying Out Tribeca

My first assignment at Columbia: attend an art event you normally wouldn't. I headed down to The Knitting Factory in the Tribeca area. They have live, local music. I should have left my heels at home. Everyone was sitting on the floor in a very beatnik-esque way. The band was very mellow -- as were the people. I kicked off the heels and sat down among the crowd. Most of the songs were about love, lost love, longing for love, and love gone wrong. But there was one final number I felt was meant just for me -- "Oregon." It was about exploring the beauty of the state and blazing the three-thousand miles to get there. I wanted to cry!

I have other homework too, it's just not nearly as exciting to discuss. Classes start tomorrow and I'm nervous. I actually had to send one professor in the theatre department my resume to get into a class. I'm still not sure if I can get in! Yikes! Talk about a tough crowd!

My weekend was boring but good. I went to church yesterday. It's actually in the same building as the temple. I was talking to a young woman I knew from my church in Portland. While I was telling her how much I "miss my dog" a woman tapped me on the shoulder and asked, "Are you Tamara?"

I spoke with Emily Call a couple months ago. She and I found each other through the church housing web list. She seems pretty cool and I predict we'll get along swimmingly. She wasn't in the room when I introduced myself and only knew who I was by my dog comment. Apparently I talk about my dog a lot...

Ah yes. And the big news of our apartment: Paola found a kitten at the subway station and brought it home. She named her Ace because it was found at the A-C-E subway stop. The kitty is cute and offers a nice little "homey" element. She's gray with little white stripes on her side and dots on her belly. I think she likes me lots. Why is it cats see that "sucker" sign so easily on my forehead?

Oh yes. Did I mention I miss my cats and my dog yet?

A Small Taste of the Big Apple

As my dear brother would declare, "I have arrived." The first day here was challenging.

I arrived at La Guardia around nine, got my luggage, and hailed a cab. It was obvious I was new to it. I couldn't even figure out how to cue up for the drivers. Ten minutes in New York and I was already feeling stupid. I was so tired, I gave the cab an extra 10 bucks for a tip on accident. Yikes. It definitely wasn't worth the extra ten dollars; he ended up dropping me off on the wrong side of campus. Of course, I didn't figure it out until my bags fell over and a chemistry professor came over and had mercy on me. He grabbed a bag and guided me through what appeared to be a secret passage under campus... leading me to the proper place. It felt very 'Alice in Wonderland' to me.

I signed my lease and schelpped some of my bags eight blocks to my new apartment, leaving the rest behind at the leasing office to pick up later. [See! I'm already using Yiddish! Quickly trying to become a REAL New Yorker!]

I learned that I have the biggest room in the apartment. It's huge. I have no idea what to do with all the space. I'm horrible with guessing sizes, but I'm going to estimate it's about 16ft X 18ft. I also have 12 ft ceilings. And my view is kinda cool -- it's down the alley way behind the building... so when I look out, I see the windows stacked to an apartment building on the next block up.

I met a couple of my roommates. Paola is half French and half Italian. She's from Ottowa. She's very laid-back and has red hair. I think I'll enjoy living with her. Anjali, who grew up in Montreal, just moved here from England. She's actually finishing up her thesis from her first graduat degree at Oxford. It's due tomorrow. Maria, who's from Greece, arrives today.

After waking up from a three hour nap, I felt lonely and debated whether to just feel it or explore the neighborhood. I decided to get up and go. It's interesting -- plenty of grocery stores, drug stores, and places to eat. But I'll have to travel for the cool stuff. The campus is great! Reminds me of my college -- only supersized and not as beautiful.
Mostly, what I did yesterday was SWEAT. I can't handle the humidity!

I have orientation tomorrow. I checked out the Journalism building, which is great architecture on the outside and pretty boring within. I asked one of my roommates where the bookstore was. She said, "oh, it's on the street and says 'Barnes and Noble'."
"THAT'S the bookstore?"

Last night I stayed up trying to move furniture... then decided to put it back where it was. I scratched the floors. I have noticed I will likely go through a series of, "I would kill my renters if they did this" over the next few months. So I'm going to see if I can clean it up a little. However, part of me sees that there are already eight layers of lacquer and thinks, "what's one more?" The layers of finish are so thick the floor feels sticky. Ugh.

My sleeping pattern is horrible. It's 2pm. I think it's time to get up, take a shower, and go get some things...

Start spreadin’ the news…

I’m leavin’ today.

I want to be a part of it

New York, New York

Although I knew the day would come, it still hasn’t hit me that I’m making a major life change, have quit my job, and am heading to live in New York for the next nine months.

Tonight I will make my way through several airports before my arrival at La Guardia. In Salt Lake, I’m taking advantage of the three-hour layover. I met up with my dear friend Jennie, her husband Tom, and their child Tommy. It was a hoot. Jennie and I actually picked up and moved from Roanoke to Salt Lake six years ago. It was two years later I would head to Portland. And now, I’m off to New York… many changes in just a few years.

So far things have been coming together quite nicely. I had a few panic attacks last Thursday when I found out all of my tenants were moving out of my other house. My brother found out about a good property manager. It turns out, the man had been recommended to me three times before, so I decided to go with it. So in a few weeks, hopefully a new family will be living there.

Everything is falling into place. Maybe it’s not all exactly as I pictured it, but it’s working out well in the end. It gives me confidence that even though I have no idea what’s ahead, it’s the right thing. The path has just been too clear so far for it not to be right. It’s still too surreal for me to be worried, but I am already missing my friends, my family, and of course my cute pets. I was glad that I was rushed out of my house and to the airport. Otherwise, it would have been sinking in that I’m leaving.

At the airport, I ran into the Young family; I sang with them in a lot of the stake musicals and performances. Then when I went inside, my good friend Krystal was there sending off her cousin. It’s pretty funny how I knew so many people. I kinda’ felt like I had my own entourage!

Saying goodbye to my family was hard. I miss them tons already.

Goodbye Party

I had my KATU goodbye party at Chuck-E-Cheese. I suppose that should be no surprise. It was so much fun! I can't believe how many people showed up!

We had to book the event as a birthday party. We told them I was turning 10. They even sang to me!

I'm going to miss all my friends so much. They've been a surrogate family for me in so many ways. But what a great sendoff they gave me!

Premature Panic Attacks

I think my hair may finally have stopped falling out.

I'm about one month away from taking a couple suitcases across the country for my master's degree. I'm finally getting ready and getting excited. For several weeks, I've been stuck in a mode of bewilderment; I haven't exactly known what to do with myself. I'd been questioning nearly every move I made -- spiritually, emotionally, physically. Now I think I'm getting in gear.

I have two and a half weeks left of my job. My four year anniversary at KATU is August 9th. My last day is the 10th -- and feeling moreso like an expiration date. It's an interesting event for me as it's really the end to my first career. It's been said careers now last an average of 10 years. I've been doing local news for eight. And now, it's onto the next chapter in my life.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm being crazy giving up a stable income for the unknown, but I know I'm doing the right thing. A major part of life is taking risks -- which is something I've avoided for the past few years. Finally, I feel like I'm taking a step back into what life is really all about.

My 10 year high school reunion is just after I quit my job. I believe I am exactly as I anticipated I would be, and I assume my friends from the past will agree. I'm approaching several mile-markers, which will push me to take more steps forward. I'm hoping more risks and adventures await.

Comfortable Sorrow

I'm still standing on a strong foundation.
So why do I feel like I'm falling?

I've been seemingly re-breaking my heart -- which I believe has been mending itself back together with the help of time, patience, and hope.

I wonder how much we are capable of living a life parallel to the one we dreamed to have. At night, I sit here and vicariously live my moments of another world. Most of the time, I close the book on it. Then there are those passing minutes like right now, when I remember it all: where I came from, the entirety of me, and the passions I have creeping in shadows within.

For the past day I've allowed myself to cocoon -- sitting in an unsocial atmosphere and surrounding myself with a false environment of past becoming present. I am happy here. I feel the comfortable sorrow of love lost and nothingness.

I'm delaying the moments of tomorrow, when I'll have to wake up to the harsh reality of what my life is now: realistic, righteous, and happy. My world now is filled with wise choices, responsibility, and joy.

So why am I longing for a chaotic past?

Blessings in Disguise

I've been trying to save money for college, but now I see it trickling away into an interesting "series of unfortunate events" at my other house.
It began last week when Lisa called me to inform me the upstairs shower was dripping into the downstairs shower. A plumber came over and told me there was a rusting hole in the drain and the upstairs bathtub needed to be replaced. He said he would fix it on Wednesday.
I scheduled Wednesday off as a vacation day since this was not "sick-day-worthy." Wednesday morning he called in sick. I went into work. And the basement in the other house flooded.
I put the girls up in a hotel room while we tried to figure things out.
Plumber #2 came over the next day to see what was going on. "Yes, the tub needs fixing" he said. $2,000 dollars later, I discovered the tub had been dripping for so long there was black mold on the ceiling of the shower below. The water heater had caused the flood in the garage.
I called Gus, my friendly handyman for help. He was busy so he sent over his brother-in-law, Dave. Nice guy who's saving my hide.
The blessings so far? I'm lucky this happened while I was still in town. I'm lucky Lisa discovered this a few days before moving out of the house. I'm glad Sara was using the upstairs shower at the same time so we could see the leak. I'm glad the water heater exploded, causing me to call a new plumber who I trusted. The new guy was Czech -- and was kicked out of the country 30 years before for being an anarchist in the then-communist regime. I'm lucky Lisa hadn't moved her furniture into the garage yet as she had planned -- same with my friend Ansley.
Friday night -- the goodbye party for Lisa. I use Tracey & Eugene's wet-vac downstairs to suck up the water that had soaked onto the carpet. Nichole comes downstairs and suggests I take up the carpet. She calls one of her friends who works at Chem-dry (where she worked for about 7 years). He instructs us on how to tear up the carpet without ruining it... and how to pull out the sopping rugs below. With pliers, scissors, and a butter knife, we tugged in our nice clothes as our friends (including a few "boys") remained upstairs. She helped me save the carpet.
Her friends came over the next day to give me an estimate -- and included a "Nichole discount" for me. Dave came over too to move the water heater so it would release outside the house instead of in the garage. But the elements were still broken.
I went over last night to check it out. I couldn't figure it out, but what I did notice on that rainy evening... was the gutter in the front which appeared to almost fall off the house.
Which brings us to tonight. The carpets were fixed. Dave brought a friend over to fix the water heater (fingers crossed that it actually works!). The rain began pouring so hard... it started coming into the garage. Dave and the carpet guys dropped what they were doing to stop the water. The carpet guys hooked up their super-soaking vaccum to catch all the water. Anything that looked wet, they picked up and cleaned off.
So far I've spent hundreds and hundreds of dollars to see these blessings. Although I love seeing how they continue to turn out, I hope the next few are a little less expensive... It will be interesting to see what else happens.

Healing

I have no idea why, but I contacted an old boyfriend the other day. He's the "one true love who smashed my heart into nothingness" guy. Oh yes, now you recall of whom I speak...
It was very interesting. He kept popping into my head for some reason over the past couple weeks, so I decided to write him an email.
It comes at a good time for me. For the past two or three years, I've been working on why I've been attracted to certain men. I was welcoming in unnecessary energy from these people; I always picked men I knew I would never marry or would never allow myself to truly fall in love with. Now, after allowing myself a long sabbatical, I suppose I am now taking some sort of action. Contacting him was a big step for me. He moved on with his life long ago. I moved on from him, but not from the destruction from our relationship.
If it weren't he, it would have been someone else. We all seem to have them at one point: the one who really makes us realize what love truly is. Sometimes we stick with those people, and others we harness that love and tend to resent it when it ends.
I'm grateful for my journey. I wonder if my contacting him serves as a beginning, an ending, or just another chapter in my healing process. I just know it's different somehow than how things have been in the past. I don't feel pain, or envy, or anger, or fear. I just feel refreshed and ready to move on to my next step. I guess that's what healing our wounds - no matter how long it takes - is really about.

Vacations

A couple weeks ago I took some time off to head down to LA for the first annual National Critics Conference. It helped me gather some ideas about my future, meet some fantastic contacts, and to come up with an idea for my thesis. It was incredible.
Last weekend, I went out to DC to stay with Cathy and to go to Edmond's wedding. It was absolutely surreal. I saw nearly 20 of my old buddies from growing up. Everyone looks the same as they did in high school -- and no one ever seems to change a bit. It was fabulous. What a great pre-cursor to this summer's high school reunion.
I'm now taking a few days off to get settled into the idea of quitting my job. I'm quite comfortable with the idea and hate the thought of going back to the grind in a few days. I'm trying to de-stress. I've been running around so much lately that my hair's been falling out in clumps and I've managed to get a few canker sores in my mouth. I'm disgusting.

In Shock

That's how I'm feeling right now. I'm sitting at my desk at work and just received a cryptic email from the admissions office at Columbia. The bottom line: the school is waiving my tuition.

Ebb and Flow

Ruthie has talked quite a bit lately about things flowing in and out of our lives. Recently, it's been clearly evident that's what's happening in my life.
Last week I was accepted into Columbia University's inaugural Master of Arts in Journalism class. My focus will have an emphasis on arts and culture -- specifically theatre. I'm excited about the program, but I'm also kinda' freaked out. It means big changes in lots of ways. It means I will move away from my cute house for nine months. It means I won't be near my cute cats, my cute nieces, my cute nephews, and quite possibly even my cute dog. Yikes! How could I bear being without all those cute elements in my life?
It will certainly be an exciting challenge and a huge blessing in ways I'm sure I cannot even comprehend right now. I've already seen God's hand in this move. So far, my visiting teaching companion from church, Maren, has agreed to live in the house and take care of my cats. She even seems interested in taking Watson on too! I don't know how she'll do it: my two cats, her own kitty, and maybe even Watson -- what a handful! Interestingly though, Maren says she's wanted a dog. If it turns out I end up in housing that won't allow dogs, then it's likely she will get the joy of having a dog around -- and the even bigger joy of giving him back after realizing how funny he can be! :)
Tonight I also learned Lisa will be moving to Sacramento. She's been living in the other house since I bought it two years ago. This means big changes over there too. I have no idea what will happen with her spot, but I know it will all work out somehow.
As I get ready for this big adventure, it seems harder and harder to think about anything else. I'm anticipating the unknown. I can't wait to see what happens next.