Grapes of Wrath Revisited?

It was one of those days where I had to indulge my needs. In college I bought ridiculously unhealthy coffee drinks all the time because classes were so depressing I needed a pick-me-up. In fact, during one semester of college I had class in the library's basement, which conveniently sold Boston Stoker coffee. Thus, I got in the habit of buying a tall Cafe Mocha and a blueberry muffin every Tuesday/Thursday morning before my Religion and Film class.
Well, today I was tired and it was a rainy day, so I felt like revisiting my college days so I stopped at Starbucks after picking up the fire reports for my work. While waiting for my Cafe Mocha to be made, I glanced at the newspaper rack where the New York Times is sold. On the front cover of the paper was this photo:

The caption read: "Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger said Wednesday that a homeless encampment in Sacramento would be moved."
Immediately my mind flashed to the Grapes of Wrath. Wasn't it that book where the people were living in the depression and they lived in these homeless camps in like tents and stuff in California? Crazy. It was weird how that entire book came back to me just from this photo. So I read the story online and apparently they call this area in Sacramento the "Wastelands" (which reminds me of T.S. Eliot, but that's just the English major in me) and all these news people (like Oprah) are giving the homeless press. And I guess the homeless will be moved to a better area. So that's good. It's just freaky, right? I think so often we think poverty is in other countries; you don't think it's so bad here in this country. But it is! This is exactly why I get so frustrated when Christian missionaries think they have to go overseas to serve when there's so much in this country we could do. *sigh*

That's So Shway

I love the Onion. You know that. But have you heard of CAP News? I haven't seen their website, I just follow their twitter and it's pretty funny. Their latest tweet is...
"Former President Bush announces plans to publish his memoir as a pop-up book.
http://tinyurl.com/cap032009".
Hilarious.

I have balls

I think that in my previous life I was a man. Yes, if I believed in reincarnation (which I don't) I had to of been a man in my past life. Because man oh man, looking back on what I did after graduation took some balls.
I've been listening to all my friends who are graduating in a few months and realizing how stressed they are about getting a job. I was too at this time last year. But they keep saying, "Jen, you don't understand. The economy is even WORSE than when you graduated."
I nod my head and pretend to understand because I'm not sure that I do. I'm pretty sure the newspaper industry sucked a lot last year as well. I was kind of desperate. Then again, was I? Because the first newspaper job offer I got ... I turned down. Doesn't that take some balls? Considering how bad the newspaper industry was? I was just banking on the fact that the other interview at the local paper was gonna offer me a job, too. Which they did...but I had to turn down the first offer before that happened. I had to say, "Sorry, I'm not interested." Then I had to sit there and pray that I was gonna get offered the other job. That's kind of risky. I could have easily not gotten it. Then I would have sat there pretty upset. Thus, I'd say it took some balls to turn down that newspaper job offer in a dying newspaper economy.

So with that said, I really don't have advice to my friends who are searching for a job except to say if you have the balls, don't just take the first job you can get if you don't think you'll like it. I know it's tough in this economy, but you'll probably (I mean, it's different for everyone) but PROBABLY enjoy living in your parent's basement more than moving out and working at sucky job.

That's So Shway

My iPod is dead. Recharging as we speak. So you know what's lovely? Pandora Radio. I have to listen to music while I write, so Pandora is doing the job. Thanks, Pandora.

Why I don't want to be a writer

In high school I thought literature classes in college would be easy. I mean, how hard is it to go to a class, read a book and then talk about it? I mean, why wouldn't I be an English major? To me, it was the easiest major I could pick.
Then I got to college. Sure, some literature classes were easier than others. However, what was most difficult was swallowing the truth of the lives of the writers I was learning about. Virginia Woolf? Kills herself in the river. Ernest Hemingway? Killed himself. Author of "The Yellow Wallpaper" Charlotte Perkins Gilman...killed herself. That's pretty much what I learned in one of my first college Lit courses. And it creeped me out. Writers were suicidal.
Suddenly the idea of writing novels and becoming famous didn't sound so glamorous. Surely that career would make me want to kill myself.
So here I sit being a journalist. I had kind of forgotten about all that suicide stuff and I really became a journalist because it fit my writing style better.
Then I read the New York Times today that confirmed my fear.
A story caught my eye because it was regarding Sylvia Plath. The story on Sylvia Plath (a great writer I studied at UD) killed herself (go figure) and I just now found out her son just killed himself recently.
Apparently Sylvia's son, Nicholas, hung himself in his home in Alaska. I also learned that Sylvia stuck her head in an oven to kill herself years ago. Sylvia divorced her husband because he was cheating on Assia Wevill. He eventually married Wevill. "Ms. Wevill, who had helped raise Nicholas and Frieda after Ms. Plath’s death, killed herself and her 4-year-old daughter, Shura. Ms. Wevill styled the murder-suicide in the same manner, using a gas stove."
That makes my stomach turn. Totally upsetting.
Many of them suffered from depression. I guess it ran in the family. I realize a lot of people probably commit suicide, but isn't it still kind of weird? Why are writers so depressed?

That's So Shway

This Onion article is hilarious. It's exactly how I feel when actors come into the audience during a performance.

Basketball, LOST and the Irish

You know what's funny? Finding out what the President has picked as his Final Four in the NCAA bracket. I'm not sure how that got on the front page of Chicago Tribune, but it did. Obama cares about basketball, too, I guess. Turns out we share one of the four in common: Memphis. The rest differed. He knows more about basketball than I do, though.

I'm preparing you now that I will be super annoying soon. My work is putting together a video segment on our website called LOST at Times. We'll be doing video every week of us discussing the TV show LOST. Someone that owns our newspaper was actually in the show, LOST, so we may someday have him on the show as well. We need reader/viewer feedback, so I'll be asking all my friends who watch LOST to join in, sending in questions about the show and so forth. We record tomorrow, so yeah, be ready. I will promote the heck out of this if I like how it goes tomorrow.

That's So Shway

The St. Louis St. Patrick's Day Parade. That's shway. Or maybe it was just the combination of beautiful warm weather in March with people I like. I'm not sure. I'm not Irish, though, and I still had a lot of fun. Anytime people dress ridiculously and make a good time out of nothing is my kind of fun.

Sweet dreams

Sometimes it isn't until something happens that I remember my dreams. Like today, for instance, someone at work brought up my one and only column I had written for the paper. I rarely talk to this guy, so it was interesting that he brought it up. He knew from my column that I had graduated from UD and had asked me when I went there. That's when I zinged to my dream I had last night.

I was at some crowded YMCA or something and I think I was being chased? So this person is chasing me and asks for my name. And I say Jennifer and before I can get to my last name this random woman who works there yells out my name and random facts. I was like, "What? How do you know?" And this woman, who was big and black, was like, "Honey, I read your column! It was good. You should write more."

So I took my dream and that guy from work as a sign that I should probably write more in a column. Because even though it seems like no one is reading it, it's probably not true.

So I turned in a column today that was about how much technology we have, and yet we can't get a vending machine to work. Ridiculous. My editor also thought I was ridiculous for writing it, but I think it will bring some smiles to the readers. And that's all I care about.

That's So Shway ... or not

Okay, my brother and I saw this infomercial yesterday and we started cracking up. It's probably a decent product, but the infomercial makes the girls look silly in some of the clips. The best part is when they have three girls all with big hair looking at the camera. It's called a Bumpit and it's for your hair to puff it up. Go to the website and watch the video they have on there. http://www.bighappiehair.com/

Happy birthday, Dr. Seuss

If I believed in horoscopes and such- which I don't - I'd probably believe being born on the same day means something - but it doesn't. However, Dr. Seuss and I share a birthday today and I've always felt that was special. I love Dr. Seuss. I love how he was able to keep pressing on and asking people to publish his ridiculous rhyming books. I mean, he almost didn't. He almost gave up. But a friend got him to try one more time and he finally got his books published. And look where he is today. Dead. No, just kidding. I mean, look at how popular his books are today. I went around to preschoolers reading classic Dr. Seuss books and the kids loved it. It was awesome. The school also had Dr. Seuss birthday cake, which was amazing because I got birthday cake in the morning - that's a first for me, but definitely not my last. Anyways, it was cool to be apart of Read Across America. If there's anything I'm passionate about, it's about getting kids to read.

That's So Shway

It's my birthday. 'Nuff said. No, not really. I was born on a leap year. I was almost born on Feb. 29. Can you imagine? I'd be, like, celebrating my fourth birthday today or something. Ha. Also, in the 20th century, the year I was born has the most roman numerals. Thanks Wikipedia for that fun fact.