So I knew when I took this new job that I would (eventually) be moving to a much smaller and less cosmopolitan city than I have been living in for the past few years. But I didn't realize just how small Fort Collins is.
Today, I had the opportunity to see a sheep being sheared, to ride on a stack of hay pulled by a tractor, and to learn about meat safety.
Then, on my way back home, a tumbleweed flew across Interstate 25.
Realization: Colorado is still the old west.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Is this the legend of Ron Burgundy?
While listening to the radio on my hour-drive to work yesterday (my new wheels come with a grade-A tape deck -- that's right, it's too ancient for even a CD player!) I came across this song:
Right away, the lyrics seemed very familiar, and suddenly a scene from one of my favorite movies came flooding into my mind. "Why are Flo-Rida and Ne-Yo channeling Will Ferrell and this fantastic movie?" I asked myself.
Some basic internet googling hasn't turned up a real answer yet. Any legitimate sources would be appreciated here -- just send 'em right back!
Right away, the lyrics seemed very familiar, and suddenly a scene from one of my favorite movies came flooding into my mind. "Why are Flo-Rida and Ne-Yo channeling Will Ferrell and this fantastic movie?" I asked myself.
Some basic internet googling hasn't turned up a real answer yet. Any legitimate sources would be appreciated here -- just send 'em right back!
Kerouac-like lines
Yesterday was my first day as a real, paid journalist (not counting last summer's paid internship in San Antonio), and I have to say, it was rather uneventful. As I don't have a login ID yet, I couldn't access a computer, and as such, spent the day wasting time and trying to reach as much actual print as possible. I know, it's crazy to think that a modern-day journalist didn't actually stare at a screen for eight hours. It was nice just to be able to take in the newsroom and its operation before being thrown to the wolves.
Fast-forward to today, when I had some assignments and ended the day feeling like a complete failure. Seemingly simple things (two 8" briefs) took me about three and a half hours to write. Along the way, I realized a few things:
* I am rusty, and I mean RUSTY. A cooper fork left on a Seattle home's front porch is probably in better shape than my writing. My sentence structure was awkward, I was having hella trouble trying to find the flow of the story, and I'm not going to even mention my leads. I tried channeling John Kupetz and his mighty green pen for the afternoon, but it didn't get me very far.
* I am easily distracted. I remember when I first started writing for the Daily that my Devo editor Sheila recommended all of us Devo writers to come into the newsroom to write our stories. I recall finding it hard to concentrate with all the buzz going on around me. Today, I felt like that old 18-yr-old Marcy on the Norris 3rd floor, trying desperately to drown out the sounds of police scanners, reporters buzzing about arrested teachers and editors coming and going from their meeting to re-arrange Page 1. It was hard to get used to then, I hope this time around it's not.
* I have very little recollection of AP Style. In fact, I had to go out to Barnes and Noble this afternoon and buy a new stylebook, because I have absolutely no idea where my old one is. It's quite sad, really, I had little notes in the old one and highlights. Not to mention all the sentimental attachments I had to it. Same with my missing dictionary.
* NAHJ's mission to diversify newsrooms is extremely important. In my newsroom, I am the minority. Not only am I one of five females in the newsroom (including editors, designers and copy editors) but I am also the youngest reporter. And, of course, the only non-white person in the entire newsroom. Granted, it's small (about 25-30 people) but I still had that feeling of "awkward" when you go somewhere and realize you kind of stick out like a sore thumb. Everyone is extremely nice and helpful, and in no way has this been an issue or even discussed, but I feel it on a personal level. And it's yet another thing for me to get used to.
I know I have quite a huge learning curve ahead of me, and I'm starting to doubt whether or not I can handle this. Not to say that I think I'll sink -- I know I can keep myself afloat. But I'm starting to wonder how many fuckups the paper's willing to take before they can someone.
Fast-forward to today, when I had some assignments and ended the day feeling like a complete failure. Seemingly simple things (two 8" briefs) took me about three and a half hours to write. Along the way, I realized a few things:
* I am rusty, and I mean RUSTY. A cooper fork left on a Seattle home's front porch is probably in better shape than my writing. My sentence structure was awkward, I was having hella trouble trying to find the flow of the story, and I'm not going to even mention my leads. I tried channeling John Kupetz and his mighty green pen for the afternoon, but it didn't get me very far.
* I am easily distracted. I remember when I first started writing for the Daily that my Devo editor Sheila recommended all of us Devo writers to come into the newsroom to write our stories. I recall finding it hard to concentrate with all the buzz going on around me. Today, I felt like that old 18-yr-old Marcy on the Norris 3rd floor, trying desperately to drown out the sounds of police scanners, reporters buzzing about arrested teachers and editors coming and going from their meeting to re-arrange Page 1. It was hard to get used to then, I hope this time around it's not.
* I have very little recollection of AP Style. In fact, I had to go out to Barnes and Noble this afternoon and buy a new stylebook, because I have absolutely no idea where my old one is. It's quite sad, really, I had little notes in the old one and highlights. Not to mention all the sentimental attachments I had to it. Same with my missing dictionary.
* NAHJ's mission to diversify newsrooms is extremely important. In my newsroom, I am the minority. Not only am I one of five females in the newsroom (including editors, designers and copy editors) but I am also the youngest reporter. And, of course, the only non-white person in the entire newsroom. Granted, it's small (about 25-30 people) but I still had that feeling of "awkward" when you go somewhere and realize you kind of stick out like a sore thumb. Everyone is extremely nice and helpful, and in no way has this been an issue or even discussed, but I feel it on a personal level. And it's yet another thing for me to get used to.
I know I have quite a huge learning curve ahead of me, and I'm starting to doubt whether or not I can handle this. Not to say that I think I'll sink -- I know I can keep myself afloat. But I'm starting to wonder how many fuckups the paper's willing to take before they can someone.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
You CAN have your cake and eat it too!
I've always heard from other, more experienced journalists that getting a job is really just a matter of timing. I hated hearing that, because it made things seem as though they were out of my control, something I'm still learning to deal with. But, I'm going to have to give it up for them this time, and say they were totally on the money with that one.
Two weeks ago, I gave my previous employer my two-weeks' notice. I was slated to move into the telecommunications field, working for a large telephone company and earning $3 more. Plus, I was going to say goodbye to the 4 a.m. mornings and the drives to random Colorado mountain towns. All in all, I was pretty ambivalent about the change of jobs itself, but excited about the extra sleep.
And then things changed -- very quickly. During my last week at Lifetouch, the telephone company called and told me they were canceling the training class I was supposed to be a part of. I wasn't completely sure what to think, and I debated between going back to my job as a photographer or starting the new job hunt which was inevitable, given that the photography position was a seasonal gig.
In between that period, I applied for a reporting position I saw listed on JournalismJobs.com at a paper an hour away. I saw the listing one Friday, and by the following Wednesday it was gone. Feeling bummed and thinking I had lost out on that chance, I debated whether or not to send my clips along. Thankfully, my sister offered me a piece of advice I like to give out myself: "Just do it. The only thing you have to lose is a few minutes of time."
Thinking of e-mailing the editor and asking for an informational interview in the future, I opted to stick with my photography job for a few more weeks. And as I sat photographing kindergarteners in Boulder, I got a really important call that I think I'm going to remember for a very long time -- a call from the managing editor of the Fort Collins Coloradoan, a 29,000 circulation paper in the northern Colorado town of Fort Collins. She wanted me to go in for an interview.
Fast forward to yesterday and the interview. Despite being nervous, and feeling a bit overdressed in that newsroom, I was hopeful that things would work out. Ft. Collins is only 60 miles from my house, and a nice college town where most of my high school friends lived during college (although unfortunately only one continues to reside there). It's a place where I could see myself living for a while. It's close enough to home that I can be here every day, if I wanted to, but far enough that I can also establish a life for myself while keeping my parents at bay. After a two-hour interview with two editors and another newbie reporter, I sat in on the morning budget meeting, got to meet the executive publisher, and filled out a paper application. Still, I kept telling myself not to get too excited, and not to get overly hopeful. I know no one and nothing is owed to me, and I have come to realize that wherever I get in life will be from my own digging, my own doing, and that nothing comes without a struggle.
But I guess the timing was right, and the chips are finally starting to fall into place for me. The editor called and offered me the position this morning, meaning that starting next Tuesday, I will be the education reporter for the Fort Collins Coloradoan. In all honesty, and for all I hoped it would happen, I sort-of still can't believe that I'm actually on the road to being a legitimate journalist. I can't believe the path I've undergone over these last 23 years of my life, especially these last eight which have shape me to this point. I would have never imagined knowing so much, growing so much, and having seen so much. For all I hoped and dreamed, I can't actually believe that I'm going to be working in a newsroom, albeit a small one. I can't believe that in this shit economy there's a newspaper willing to give a rookie reporter like myself a chance. And above all, I can't believe that it's a paper right here in Colorado, and better yet, in one of the state's more legitimate, sizable cities.
I'm a very, very, very lucky person. I realized this over the last year, when I was fortunate enough to travel 10 countries throughout Europe and Africa, when I was given the chance to see some of the world's most incredible things and meet amazing people. And I continue to be grateful for the good fortune I possess which has not only allowed me to travel to fantastic places, but which now is allowing me to fulfill my career goals of becoming a journalist.
Whoever said "you can't have your cake and eat it too" was wrong. Very, very wrong. Because I was served my big slice of cake in Europe, and now I'm savoring every bit of it with a journalistic fork.
Two weeks ago, I gave my previous employer my two-weeks' notice. I was slated to move into the telecommunications field, working for a large telephone company and earning $3 more. Plus, I was going to say goodbye to the 4 a.m. mornings and the drives to random Colorado mountain towns. All in all, I was pretty ambivalent about the change of jobs itself, but excited about the extra sleep.
And then things changed -- very quickly. During my last week at Lifetouch, the telephone company called and told me they were canceling the training class I was supposed to be a part of. I wasn't completely sure what to think, and I debated between going back to my job as a photographer or starting the new job hunt which was inevitable, given that the photography position was a seasonal gig.
In between that period, I applied for a reporting position I saw listed on JournalismJobs.com at a paper an hour away. I saw the listing one Friday, and by the following Wednesday it was gone. Feeling bummed and thinking I had lost out on that chance, I debated whether or not to send my clips along. Thankfully, my sister offered me a piece of advice I like to give out myself: "Just do it. The only thing you have to lose is a few minutes of time."
Thinking of e-mailing the editor and asking for an informational interview in the future, I opted to stick with my photography job for a few more weeks. And as I sat photographing kindergarteners in Boulder, I got a really important call that I think I'm going to remember for a very long time -- a call from the managing editor of the Fort Collins Coloradoan, a 29,000 circulation paper in the northern Colorado town of Fort Collins. She wanted me to go in for an interview.
Fast forward to yesterday and the interview. Despite being nervous, and feeling a bit overdressed in that newsroom, I was hopeful that things would work out. Ft. Collins is only 60 miles from my house, and a nice college town where most of my high school friends lived during college (although unfortunately only one continues to reside there). It's a place where I could see myself living for a while. It's close enough to home that I can be here every day, if I wanted to, but far enough that I can also establish a life for myself while keeping my parents at bay. After a two-hour interview with two editors and another newbie reporter, I sat in on the morning budget meeting, got to meet the executive publisher, and filled out a paper application. Still, I kept telling myself not to get too excited, and not to get overly hopeful. I know no one and nothing is owed to me, and I have come to realize that wherever I get in life will be from my own digging, my own doing, and that nothing comes without a struggle.
But I guess the timing was right, and the chips are finally starting to fall into place for me. The editor called and offered me the position this morning, meaning that starting next Tuesday, I will be the education reporter for the Fort Collins Coloradoan. In all honesty, and for all I hoped it would happen, I sort-of still can't believe that I'm actually on the road to being a legitimate journalist. I can't believe the path I've undergone over these last 23 years of my life, especially these last eight which have shape me to this point. I would have never imagined knowing so much, growing so much, and having seen so much. For all I hoped and dreamed, I can't actually believe that I'm going to be working in a newsroom, albeit a small one. I can't believe that in this shit economy there's a newspaper willing to give a rookie reporter like myself a chance. And above all, I can't believe that it's a paper right here in Colorado, and better yet, in one of the state's more legitimate, sizable cities.
I'm a very, very, very lucky person. I realized this over the last year, when I was fortunate enough to travel 10 countries throughout Europe and Africa, when I was given the chance to see some of the world's most incredible things and meet amazing people. And I continue to be grateful for the good fortune I possess which has not only allowed me to travel to fantastic places, but which now is allowing me to fulfill my career goals of becoming a journalist.
Whoever said "you can't have your cake and eat it too" was wrong. Very, very wrong. Because I was served my big slice of cake in Europe, and now I'm savoring every bit of it with a journalistic fork.
Monday, September 7, 2009
I've completely lost myself
Further proof that I have NO CLUE who I am anymore:
I spaced buying ticket's to yesterday's Weezer show, and consequently did not go. In addition, rather than spend the evening on the fine lawn at Fidler's Green, I was at a bar watching CU and CSU play football. And hearing people talking about butt sex.
Good lord, a bit of clarity please.
I spaced buying ticket's to yesterday's Weezer show, and consequently did not go. In addition, rather than spend the evening on the fine lawn at Fidler's Green, I was at a bar watching CU and CSU play football. And hearing people talking about butt sex.
Good lord, a bit of clarity please.
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