rollover to me

I've moved.

To Wordpress.

Farewell, Blogger.

All I still want to do is dance.

i like the way you nod after everything i say, like it actually means something to you

When I look around at everything, talk to friends and sit on that couch in the photo room and look at the wall of pictures that took me a year to produce, I begin to wonder why I can’t seem to do anything right.

It’s probably a common feeling among people, that everything we accomplish, everything we put effort into never really goes the way we want it to.

I look at my grades and think to myself that I could have, should have done better.

I look at the pictures I take and know that there was a better way to shoot it, but I didn’t do it.

My writing is lacking in grace and elegance, and I seem to not put the effort into strengthening it. I would if I had the time.

(Even as I type this, Microsoft Word is correcting my grammar. Geez)

But there should be time. There are fewer hours in my course load, but I still seem to be constantly going.

----------

When I first watched the movie Elizabethtown I really wasn’t a fan. Sure, Orlando Bloom’s beauty caused my high school heart to throb, but as a movie I couldn’t seem to really justify seeing it more than once.

While flipping through channels and On Demand nonsense, I discovered that we had a subscription to some movie channel.

My roommates and I huddled around the television and we watched Elizabethtown from start to finish. And somehow it was better, infinitely better actually, the second time around.

Maybe I didn’t appreciate what it had to offer. I needed to grow up a little, see a little more of life and experience what life has to offer in general. When I first watched the movie, I’d never felt the pain and excitement of being completely and totally head-over-heels for a person.

You know the feeling. It’s the excitement of seeing someone, the butterflies in the stomach when they look at you and the joy that rushes through your body when you first kiss.

As ridiculous as it may seem, there are some things in life that can’t be appreciated until you’ve received your first real kiss.

I guess one of those things for me was Elizabethtown.

I’m listening to a mix cd that a friend of mine made for me back in March. It’s been my favorite cd I’ve ever received from a person. We're slowly losing contact with one another, and I don't see it ever getting better. As more weeks pass and I see him less and less, the tougher it is to pick up the phone and call him to tell him I miss his goofy face. This thought alone makes me question how close of friends we were in the first place.

I hate when friendships fall apart.

and we want spectacular views if we're to stay for the weekend

I'm about to fall asleep. I'm on the cusp of being fully awake and deeply asleep, intoxicated with exhaustion.

Last week was rough, in every sense of the word. And this weekend wasn't exactly peaceful either. And I guess it's my fault, but I've come to learn you roll with it, look back on your mistakes and hopefully you come out of it a little bit stronger and wiser.

I feel like the entire month of October is conspiring against me. I know it's midterms, but this year seems so much more overwhelming than last year and I'm not even taking that many hours. I've never been a motivated student, and I haven't really decided on whether I want to do graduate school or not. And I feel that if I did really want to go to Berkeley, I would and should be trying harder. There's the potential there to achieve so much more, but I don't really feel the need to give anymore than I am. I'm such a slacker.

I'm having trouble writing my story. If I thought I didn't do it justice with my pictures, surely I should compensate with a strong story.

Washington D.C. in the fall should be pretty. Only a few more weeks.

In concert news, the Arcade Fire show fulfilled every need I had musically. I doubt any concert will be able to live up to their performance. I didn't let anything that went down that night bother me, because I was determined to have a good time. Nothing could ruin it for me, and nothing did. If you would have seen the look on my face that night, you would have been able to tell that there was nothing but pure joy there.

On a high note, I was reminded of what my high school taught me after a visit to my old summer abode:

I am a valuable person. I have dignity and worth. What I do makes a difference.

Thank you, Assumption High School.

sometimes we lie in the hammock, caught between the mesh

It's Autumn. I think the most change happens during this season. Everything is still so fresh and new, from the beginning of the semester, but people are slowly becoming more comfortable in their new roles, in their new lives. It's not that we've changed, but we've grown, and int he process the person we were last year isn't the same person we look at in the mirror each morning as we wash our faces and brush our teeth.

I love autumn. I get to wear warm sweaters and step on crunchy leaves and ride my bike up and down the streets while the cool, crisp air caresses my face. I let my hair grow long and maybe, on a special occasion, I'll wear it down. You'd be lucky to catch me with my boring brown locks out of a pony-tail.

Some of my best memories of last year happened during the fall. They're things I now look back on with fondness, and not with regret.

One of the best encounters of my life , and quite possibly the most life-changing was the day I met Dave LaBelle.

Dave was the photo adviser for the student newspaper I work at, and he was the person who really inspired me to pursue photojournalism. He believed in me from the very beginning, helped me when I had questions, guided me when I was lost, and was like a second a father to me.

I've never met a more genuine person than Dave. His heart is so incredibly big, and the amount of love and concern he has for those around him is inspiring. I can only hope to be half the photographer and person that Dave is. He has affected so many people around him, and changed the lives of so many people, including my own.

He's leaving this week for California to pursue his own personal projects, and get back to being a photographer. And I'm being selfish, because I don't want him to leave. I'm not ready for him to leave. Not yet. Deep down I feel like there's so much more to learn from him.

Just listening to Dave speak, I feel like I'm gaining a deeper insight into the way Dave sees things. Today he was talking to Elliott, and my friend Matt was in the room. I told him, "Stick around. You'll want to hear what Dave has to say." And he did. Maybe it was out of courtesy, or maybe it was out of curiosity. Either way, I think Matt gained something from it.

I'll have to say goodbye. At least, for now. I know I'll be seeing Dave down the road, at workshops and what not. I'm emotionally preparing myself for it, but how do you say thank you to the person who's influenced your life so much?

The least I can do is make him proud. And from here on out, that's what I plan on doing.

"Into the Midst of It"

-Bronwen Wallace

You’ll take a map, of course, and keep it
open in front of you on the dashboard,
though it won’t help. Oh, it’ll give mileages,
boundary lines, names, that sort of thing,
but there are places yet
where names are powerless
and what you are entering
is like the silence words get lost in
after they’ve been spoken.

It’s the same with the highways.
The terse, comforting numbers
And the signs that anyone can read.
They won’t be any good to you now.
And it’s not that kind of confidence
you’re after anyway.

It makes you think of the people you love,
How their faces look when they don’t know you’re
watching them,
so that what you see there
forces you to recognize
how useless your love is, how little
all your hopes, your good intentions
can ever do for them.

You, who have lived your whole life believing
if you made enough plans
you wouldn’t need to be afraid,
driving through a countryside
only the road seems to care about,
to rediscover every time it enters
with that kind of love that’s partly tenderness
and partly a sort of confidence
you can’t put words around.
Like the look
the people at home will give you
when you get there: nonchalant and almost too deep
for you to see, as they turn back
to whatever held them
before you came.

I almost ran over my friend while we were both biking today. I was so caught up in trying to get somewhere, that I didn't really acknowledge him. He said it was the most bizarre and weird moment he's experienced in awhile. I think I almost hurt his feelings by not saying hello.

I was too busy balancing on a bike that was too big and missing a pedal.

My face gets this weird vacant and anxious look when I'm overly stressed or tired. I never noticed it until he pointed it out to me.

I'm taking pictures again. Maybe I'll finally get out of this rut and back into the swing of things. Maybe.

"You may all go to Hell, and I will go to Texas"

Let's just get this out of the way: I am a horrible photographer. Scratch that, I'm a horrible photojournalist. Alright, time to get this thing going.

Austin was amazing. The four days I spent with my two of my favorite and great and closest friends are quite possibly the best four days I've had this year. They may not know how much I love them, but these two kids made my summer as memorable as it was and I'm glad we were able to experience Austin City Limits together. This will be something I'll tell my kids about.

We were crazy, driving down to Texas. And by crazy, I mean, we were crazy in even thinking about driving. It's an exhausting drive, but looking back, was worth it.


Succinctly, we saw as much of Austin as we could in two and a half days. Ross, Chris and I got into Austin around 10:30 on Friday and after dropping our bags off at my cousin's apartment, we hit up the Drag. The Drag (Guadalupe) is similar to Limestone in that it's the road that divides campus from city. Except, being that it isi n Austin, the Drag is significantly cooler than Limestone. We had a delicious dinner and spent the next hour walking around and exploring campus.

Ross said it was a sobering experience, to walk around such an amazing and neat campus. He said something along the lines of it being sad, knowing that those opportunities to attend a cool college, and more broadly, the college experience, is gone.

Saturday was spent checking out downtown Austin with my cousin and the boys. We walked to the capitol (which is bigger than the capitol in D.C.! Go Texas!) and took pictures. Had lunch and played pool in a bar, cooled down for a bit with a nap, shopped at Waterloo Records and went to dinner with some of my family friends. After dinner we walked to an ice cream shop and really just soaked up the Austin evening. Later that night everyone cleaned up to check out the infamous 6th St. bars.

Fingers were crossed that I would get in and luckily I did. Overall that evening was great, and thought a good friend, we heard about an ACL After Show and saw St. Vincent perform at a bar a little ways from the bar we were at.

Sunday was the festival. We saw:

-Yo La Tengo
-The Broken West
-Midlake
-Regina Spektor
-My Morning Jacket (w/Andrew Bird)
-Bob Dylan & His Band


We saw bits and pieces of:

-Bloc Party
-The Decemberists
-Ghostland Observatory
-The Jelly Dots...

There was tons of food and arts and crafts and local vendors. And I'm not going to lie, there were moments were I was completely miserable. We all were feeling the heat, but the festival was set up so that if you need to cool off, you could. Plenty of misting stations and an air-conditioned AT&T thing that people could walk into.

I love Texas and can't believe this weekend went by so fast. The drive back home wasn't too bad, and everyone took turns driving. I'm pretty sure I got stuck with one of the most boring sections of the drive: Dallas, TX to outside Little Rock, AR. Blegh. When I drove over the state line, I was honest to god, incredibly sad. Both the boys were asleep and I had Sufjan Stevens on (didn't want to wake them, they deserved a hearty nap) and everything about that moment was so...overwhelming.

When Ross dropped me off at my apartment that night and we exchanged our casual "see ya later!"'s, I felt dizzy. Like, this whirlwind of a trip just occurred, and I as thrown out right in the middle of it.

What a great road trip.

In other news, this is why I believe that music, live music at that, is the most moving and beautiful art forms of all:



(by the way, that's a Davy Crockett quote. Ross quizzed me on the way down to Texas and surprisingly I remembered all my Texas facts. Shoot me a question and I probably know the answer!)

my days always dry up and blow away

It's just another day now. People forget and don't remember until they turn on the television and they're shocked. It's been six years? they wonder as the flip through the channels, because it's just another Tuesday and it's beautiful outside.

One story in a myriad of tales and broken hearts and shattered lives.

My dad was working in D.C. at the time. I didn't connect the two and two together at first.

I was in the eighth grade, 13 at the time, and it was just another morning. I sat down in Earth Science, behind Ben, who was teasing me about something I said or did. Our teacher, Mrs. Smith said something about a plane hitting the Twin Towers, and he and I laughed. We thought it was some little glider and didn't think much of it.

A few minutes later, our principle came over the intercom announcing what had happened. A disaster had occurred, many people were seriously hurt and we needed to pray. The entire school fell silent as she prayed, our heads bent down in solemn recognition. God had a plan, an intention and would help the city of New York during this time, she said.

It dawned on me. My uncle was in New York City, in Manhattan in fact. Was he okay? Our day continued, and we weren't allowed to call our parents or watch the television. No one was allowed to pick up their children; they were determined for this day to continue. No one told us about the Pentagon. No one would tell us a single thing. I think it was this moment that I truly began to resent my middle school.

Sometime during the late afternoon we had to go to the media center to work on a project. The librarian had CNN on and we gathered around the television, all of us curious. What had happened? She turned it off when the teacher told us to get back to work.

The entire day I was left in the dark. My mother picked us up from school, throughly distraught that they wouldn't let her come earlier. She didn't want to make dinner that night, since it was just her and my dad was away on business. It was during the ride home from school that my mom told me about the Pentagon. Not that my father would have been anywhere nearby, but she assured us he was okay.

We went to the Chinese restaurant, where the people knew us by name. They had a gigantic television, and for the first time all day I saw it: the footage of the towers falling. People screaming and crying.

That night, as I had my radio on before I went to bed, I fell asleep to patriotic music because that's all they were playing.

What was your day like?

stories break like branches in the cold

The fact that I'm awake right now is pretty ridiculous, considering the lack of sleep that came from this weekend. I don't want my body having a freak out after depriving it of it's favorite thing: hours and hours of shut eye. However, I feel like I can't sleep until I write something. Anything.

I watched Meerkat Manor this evening. One of the meerkats died from an infection. While he was cradling his little head in his palms, his partner stood diligently by his side. She knew what was coming. They made little crying noises, grieving what was inevitable. One of my roommates was doing her homework in the living room, unaware of the situation.

I made a trip to the hospital last night. Walking down the streets and making various phone calls under the fluorescent light was odd. Walking into the E.R., my emotions were all over the place, seeing the blood that covered my friend's collar, hair and neck. I rubbed some of it off and had crimson flecks all over my hand. Friendship is one of those intangible feelings...the lengths others go for their friends. As my friend and I walked to the hospital to retrieve our friend, we didn't think anything of it. I'm glad he's alright, but wow, this kid is really going to give us all an ulcer.

This trip to Austin is becoming a huge pain. I almost don't even want to go anymore, and I didn't want for it to get to that point. Money and bills and groceries are rough.

I don't think I'll ever be able to listen to Calexico without thinking about that incredibly early morning drive to Atlanta.

Time to sleep.

"Steps" by Frank O'Hara

I really love stumbling on good poetry. Honestly, could I be a bigger english major? There's something about poetry, good poetry at that, that really gets to me. It's like looking at a beautiful picture; it captures you, makes you feel something that wasn't there before, and opens your eyes. Here's one of my favorite poems that my friend, Anna, told me about.

Steps
FRANK O’HARA

How funny you are today New York
like Ginger Rogers in Swingtime
and St. Bridget’s steeple leaning a little to the left

here I have just jumped out of a bed full of V-days
(I got tired of D-days) and blue you there still
accepts me foolish and free
all I want is a room up there
and you in it
and even the traffic halt so thick is a way
for people to rub up against each other
and when their surgical appliances lock
they stay together
for the rest of the day (what a day)
I go by to check a slide and I say
that painting’s not so blue

where’s Lana Turner
she’s out eating
and Garbo’s backstage at the Met
everyone’s taking their coat off
so they can show a rib-cage to the rib-watchers
and the park’s full of dancers with their tights and shoes
in little bags
who are often mistaken for worker-outers at the West Side Y
why not
the Pittsburgh Pirates shout because they won
and in a sense we’re all winning
we’re alive

the apartment was vacated by a gay couple
who moved to the country for fun
they moved a day too soon
even the stabbings are helping the population explosion
though in the wrong country
and all those liars have left the UN
the Seagram Building’s no longer rivalled in interest
not that we need liquor (we just like it)

and the little box is out on the sidewalk
next to the delicatessen
so the old man can sit on it and drink beer
and get knocked off it by his wife later in the day
while the sun is still shining

oh god it’s wonderful
to get out of bed
and drink too much coffee
and smoke too many cigarettes
and love you so much

Another television post. I've never really let on how into television I am, it's a side of my personality that I keep hidden from most people. Sure, you might know about Thursdays and that I purposely don't schedule myself to work because I refuse to miss an episode of The Office but I mean, everyone has their guilty pleasures.

I currently watch three shows obsessively:

1. Friday Night Lights
2. The Office
3. Doctor Who

The first two you might have heard about, seeing as how I can't stop talking about them. Doctor Who, however, is my true guilty pleasure.

A British sci-fi show that began in 1963 (I think), Doctor Who is the story of a time-traveling alien, The Doctor, and his different companions. There's been 10 different doctors and multiple companions from different eras and galaxies. Sound dorky enough? Well get this: it's on syndication on the Sci-Fi Chanel.

Sometimes I'm astounded that I watch it because I've never, ever been into Sci-Fi. It's not me, it's not my personality.

Then again, most Sci-Fi isn't written by Russel T. Davies, the writer of the British Queer as Folk. Davies is excellent, superb even, at writing stories; compelling stories with emotion and dialogue and when combined with the right actors, it's the perfect equation for success.

And maybe there's that appeal of escapism...the idea of traveling wherever, whenever and getting into all sorts of mischief. That sense of adventure that most people will never get to act on. Seeing beautiful, dangerous things with a fun, clever and brilliant person who can appreciate what's going on. The companionship of traveling is a theme that runs throughout the show, a feeling most people stuck in their monotonous 8-5 jobs might yearn for.

And maybe it's the escapism that gets me. Don't get me wrong, I'm loving this stage in life, but I can't wait to explore. I don't think I could stand to be in one place too long. There's too much to see, too much to do and too much to explore. In a way, I'm getting into the perfect career for that. If I want to, really truly want to, I can do something. Something exciting and grand and glorious, and the road there may be rough, but I'm sure looking back it'll be worth it.

Anyways, Doctor Who. David Tennant plays the 10th Doctor and he'll always be my doctor. You see, the doctor (being an alien) "regenerates" every now and then. The 10th incarnation of the doctor is witty and sarcastic and stubborn and a jovial fellow. Plus, David Tennant is one heck of an actor.

For more info on the show, check out it's IMDB page.

Wow, I feel incredibly nerdy now. But it's all good. I'm about to get my indie-rock/scene kid on at the radio station. I'll win back a few of those cool points I just lost.

turns out i was a vampire myself in the devil town

After what was an exhausting and ridiculous weekend, I returned home with a few goals in mind:

1) spend some quality time with the family
2) find a new dress and dark pants
3) buy a new messenger bag

Luckily I accomplished all of them. Unfortunately during the process I was able to deplete my bank account, which is major lamecakes because it enforces the fact that I can't save up money no matter how hard I try. While I didn't need a new dress and pants, I was getting tired of what I was wearing. And yeah, I did need a new bag. I had outgrew my backpack two years ago. Finally, I found something that suited everything I needed.

While I was home I introduced my mom to Friday Night Lights. She is in love. Not only does it remind her of home, but she said that it's just so inspiring.

During one of the scenes a cover of Daniel Johnston's "Devil Town" plays. I don't think Bright Eyes is the band who covers the song, but it's all I could find. And it's beautiful. I've never been a huge Bright Eyes fan, but I've gotta hand it to Conner Oberst: this kid knows what he's doing.

Bright Eyes::Devil Town

If say, your speakers are broken, remind me to play the song for you when you come over to watch Friday Night Lights. Which better be soon. As in this week.

In other news, I've dropped my coarse load and I feel like a complete and utter slacker. For some reason I'm just not as motivated this semester, which is pathetic. I'm not burnt out, but I'm just not feeling it. I'm hoping sometime during this semester I'll recover that burning drive I had as a freshman. That drive to succeed, to do well and do things right.

I get to see Texas in less than two weeks. The more I think about it, the more I feel like that's where I'm supposed to be. Austin always feels like home and there's something about Texas...the grandness and greatness and overall sense of pride that you don't get anywhere else.

Another Friday Night Lights clip is necessary:

clear eyes, full hearts, can't lose

I was going to write about music. I had this really deep post about music and these songs I've been listening to and about all this nonsense that's been going on in my life.

Then my friend, Anna, told me that Friday Night Lights was on sale for $20.

If there's one show that's ever inspired me, it's this one. Not only as a photographer, but as a writer, a cinematographer and as a person.

I watch this show and I feel like I'm learning. From the lighting and camera angles to the actors and the screenplay. This show is the epitome of good television. It's shows like this that make me want to move out to Los Angeles and throw myself into the industry. I want to apart of something good. Something so good that it affects people, makes them want to watch television because they know something special is happening.

This isn't your ordinary show. It truly is a thing of beauty. I know some of you don't watch television, but I can promise you that if you were ever to invest any time into a television show, this is the one to be watching.



Seriously. SERIOUSLY. I know you watched that. And you're going to tell me what you thought of that.

Texas forever.

ask me anything you like, you could know everything

Back in business, baby baa-by. Instead of doing the 108 pages of reading I have on my table, I revamped the blog. The header is pretty boring right now, but hey, the design of font and color will have to do for now. Until I get an external hard-drive, I won't be bale to do anything too flashy in Photoshop. I have about 4,000 songs I need to take off of the computer before I run out of space, and once they're gone I can get some brushes and fonts and pictures on here.

I'm hoping in the future to add more music and cd reviews, more pictures, and less ramblings of my daily life. Maybe attract a few more readers, who knows?

I should probably get back to The Age of McCarthyism. Woo.

passing through unconcious states, when i awoke i was on the highway

I've really let this thing go. I feel like a person on a diet or exercise plan; you do really well for a period of time and then, bam, you let yourself go. Sneak a few french fries here, skip out on a run or two there...it's a slippery slope, my friends.

So why did I let this thing go? I had so much I wanted to say, so much to vent and angst and wax nostalgic about that it was almost an overload. I major in words, yet I can never find the right ones to express myself. I can write for hours about analytical bullshit, but when it comes to telling stories and expressing my feelings, it's like every word in my vocabulary goes sparse.

I'm currently sampling some sweet Turkish, Greek and middle eastern hip hop, and I'm not going to lie; this is incredible. I've got a great line up for my show tonight; the last one from 3-6am. Starting this Thursday I'll be on the airwaves from noon-2pm. How sweet it is! I'm going to miss the freedom of the safe harbor hours, though, when I didn't have to worry who was listening, I could just drop whatever I wanted on the radio.

The last month has been pretty horrible. Maybe that's why I haven't posted. And maybe horrible is too strong of a word. It wasn't disastrous or terrible, but it wasn't great. Summer is officially coming to an end, and the last month was almost the literal incarnation of that thought. I knew it's coming to an end, I didn't need four weeks of torture to tell me this. Looking back, everything that went down made me a stronger person. In the end, I was able to realize who my true friends are, and cut some unnecessary ties. Drama is ridiculous and I never want my life consumed with it. I've got more important things to focus on.

I leave for Texas with two of my really good friends in less than a month. I love Texas. Here is a picture of the festival from last year:

Wish you were coming with.

i could recall a time when evenings were bright and thick with love

I should be asleep right now. I have to be somewhere at 10 and have a full day of work in front of me. My internship ends this weekend, and while I loved working at the Herald-Leader, I'm really glad to have my weekends back.

I was so looking forward to getting back to Lexington, thinking my friends would have welcomed me home with open arms. So far, a majority of them haven't even made the effort to ask me how my trip was, call or see me. Thanks guys, missed you too.

There's one thing I've come to discover, though. There's always that one friend you can count on. I went with this friend to quite possibly one of the most electrifying, energetic and explosive concerts I've been to in awhile. Brad and I were able to spend the entire evening together, and seriously, it's just what I needed. We shared summer stories and anecdotes and listened to good music the entire way to the TV on the Radio show in Cincinnati and back.

I move out of what I've come to call "home" this Summer on Sunday. I'm excited about my new abode, but I'll miss this house and my eccentric roommates. But with the new move-in downstairs, it feels right for me leaving. Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't like the new neighbors...I don't want to get into the nitty gritty, but it's almost an allusion to a situation that I went through a couple of months ago. In the figurative sense, this person metaphorically moved in while I metaphorically moved out. Time for it to happen again.

I went shopping at midnight. I love grocery shopping late at night. I stocked up on bread, peanut butter and jelly, granola cereal and juice. I'm ready to go for the new week!

Summer's slowly coming to an end. I plan on using every spare moment basking in what little is left of it.

look each other in the eye and say, "hello".

I've been away from home for a little over a week. When I was younger, getting away from home was a treat. My first experience of venturing out on my own was when I was eight years old and my parents sent me, along with my friends, to sleepaway camp. I was one of the few children who didn't cry, yearning to go home. Instead, I cried when I had to go home. For the longest time, I hated being home, especially in the summer.

This is the first summer where, once on vacation, I realized how much I loved home. I love my family, and I definitely feel like this vacation was needed, however despite the sprawling beaches, the beautiful surf and sun and the shopping, I just wanted to be home.

In Lexington I've created a family that's made college my home away from home. In these last few months I've formed such strong relationships with people, bonds that I hope will never be broken. To be away from the people that have seen me at my best and worst, who I talk to, share my anecdotes with, hugs and frowns...I was homesick. I still am homesick.

I've spent three hours in Las Vegas, waiting on a delayed flight. I've had those three hours to ruminate on how much the people and the city of Lexington mean to me. Sure, I might be sporting a USC hoodie...and sure, I may never really love UK, but I've made the best of the situation. I move into an apartment this Sunday with my three best girlfriends, and I can't wait. I'm seeing TV on the Radio with Brad on Thursday, and spending tomorrow evening with Ross. It's only been a little over a week, but I'm missing that kid like crazy.

The airport is full with people anxious to get home. As much as I hate flying, I can't wait to get on that plane that will take me home.

buy me a shiny new machine that runs on lies and gasoline

i feel like i can write pretty candidly about my life and going ons here. i know of only one steady reader and know that what i say on here is what i would already tell him. i feel like this blog was my way of communicating what was going on in my life while he was on his adventure. i'm going to keep this going, though, and hopefully i'll get something out of it. i've been meaning to improve my writing, and seriously, is there any better opportunity to do this than a blog? that's a rhetorical question.

one of the things i've come to realize after being away at college, moving out and missing summers with high school friends is that people change. or maybe, people mature.

my high school life was horrible. i didn't have an established group of friends, jumped from person to person, and never really knew who i was. apparently, a lot of people saw me as this confidant person who knew where she was going, was true to herself. i've been told that people actually looked up to me in high school; wanted to be more like me. they had a pretty shitty way of showing it though.

i was that girl who wasn't invited to things, who heard about parties and gatherings after the fact. popular enough to know those people, but still not cool enough to see them on the weekends.

then something changed. i discovered music, and i truly believe that if it wasn't for "the district sleeps alone tonight" by the postal service, i'd be a different person right now. with music, i knew who i was. i didn't need others to make me happy, because in music i found myself. sappy, i know.

since then, i've always felt confidant. i didn't let the petty happenings and drama of high school get to me. i arrived at UK a different person, set on making new friends. not even a month into the school year, i felt accepted by a group of incredible, diverse people and had people from high school wanting to hang out with me. suddenly, i was cool. i haven't felt insecure in a long time, i said goodbye to my former scrawny, mousy self a long time ago.

tonight, i felt transported back to sophomore year. before indie music, before friends.

i kid you not, i was a joke tonight. i was the brunt of inside jokes, side laughs and shifty eyes. i couldn't believe what was going on around me. someone who i had confided so much in, who i thought was my friend, had seemingly turned on me, broke my confidence and bitch slapped me in the face with it. ouch.

i had to literally sit through an hour and a half of torture. i had to watch her charm him, watch him teased and doted on by the other girls, and realize that i was being ignored.

all i wanted was to spend one evening with him. it started out so well.

anyways, i can't wait to get to california. there's nothing i want to see more than the beaches of newport, the boardwalk, and those beautiful california sunsets.

summer here, kids

On the way back from a wedding, Sean asked me what my favorite event or most exciting assignment has been this summer. I honestly didn't know what to tell him. I haven't been or seen anything incredibly exciting, and I can't place my finger on any one assignment that left me feeling awe-inspired or glad that I was there.

I'm not going to lie, though. I've seen a lot of interesting places, met a lot of diverse and unique people and have driven nearly 1000 miles. But overall, with the concentration of this summer (or at least, coming into it) being photojournalism, it feels as thought I haven't really made any advances forward. I've remained pretty consistent, getting the same pictures, just in different situations. Maybe I'm wasting the opportunities that are out there (ie: I've only been on one assignment with my "buddy", David Stephenson) or maybe I'm not that great a photographer. Either way, going over my pictures, despite the multiple centerpieces I've had, I still don't feel like I've taken any one great picture.

But to prove that I haven't been loafing around all the much, here's a few pictures from this summer thus far...









Also, to prove that I actually take pictures of other things and have friends, here's a photo from last Saturday:

I associate people with things. A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius reminds me of my best guy friend from high school, John. John was my closest friend, despite the fact that we never saw each other. We spoke for hours at a time on the computer and on the phone. Mostly on the computer. We made half-hearted attempts to hang out. I never knew how smart he was until he told me his senior year schedule. I knew he was ambitious, but I didn't know he was a genius. We bitched and complained about how much we hated high school, about how much we wanted to get out of Louisville and head to bigger places. He was debating schools like Harvard, Yale and Dartmouth. I desperately wanted to attend Northwestern. In the end he enrolled at U of L since they're practically paying him to go there, and I ended up at UK. We don't talk as much anymore, but when I was going through my books today, I thought of him.

When I listen to the Weakerthans, I think of the two people I'm pretty sure I love the most. Teresa was probably the closest thing I had to a best friend at Assumption. She was always there, always smiling, and always up to having a good time. She let me stay at her house when I was too scared to drive home, let me hang out on her kitchen floor, and went on adventures with me. She was smart, funny, religious, kind, but never too serious. I adored her family and had a crush on her brother. She introduced me to the Weakerthans, the only band I can listen to on repeat and not get sick of. I don't see much of her anymore since she goes to Notre Dame, but when I do see her, it's as though nothing has changed. We pick up where we left off, a constant conversation that's put on pause as she endures the bitter cold of South Bend, Indiana and I stay here, in Kentucky.

Then there's Brad. The one person I always feel comfortable talking to. The person I'm missing the most right now. Despite everything that happened last year, I consider him one of my closest friends. I burned him a Weakerthans cd, knowing that he'd love it. It took him awhile to actually listen to it, but to have him tell me that he loved it? Moments like that--introducing people to music and having them discover a new favorite band--make my heart swell. I love that music does that to me.

I'm listening to the Weakerthans right now. I want to tell them both that, while I know they might roll their eyes at this, I'm so glad that they exist.

I think I might be getting sick. I've tried my damnedest to stay healthy, and I'm not going to lie, I've done one hell of a job. I can't even remember the last time I was sick.

I keep getting these shooting, sharp pains in my right inner-ear and the same sharp, shooting pain in my head. It's been going on for a couple of days and I'm thinking that if it still bothers me tomorrow I should go to the doctor.

If there's one thing I hate more than...actually, there's nothing I hate more than the doctor. Maybe the dentist, to my friend's dismay. But the doctor takes the cake.

I'm thinking it might be sinuses, but I'm not sure. Either way, I'm kind of in pain.

So it's been a few days since the last time this blog has seen some fresh words and music. The week's been pretty slow, and I've been busy working and taking pictures. I took one of my favorite pictures on Saturday, and while it didn't run in the paper, I was happy with the overall experience of attending the Kentucky Refugee Picnic. It's amazing, the stories these people told. Many of the refugees fled from the war in the Congo, while others were from Sierra Leone, Togo, Central Africa Republic and Liberia. As I sat with the reporter, hearing stories about a man being held captive in a hole for a month, or a family's struggle to leave Tanzania, I realized that it's moments like this that emphasize why I'm going into journalism. Or at least, why I'm studying it. Even if I don't become a photojournalist, I know that I want to document. I want to tell stories. I want to change people for the better through pictures, words and film.

That was heavy.

The coffee shop job isn't too bad, but the 7-12am kills me. I'm too tired after I get back to do anything, and I can't see anyone that night because I have to wake up so early. No more complaining though, because it's money and if I need anything right now, it's some green green cash.

Have you ever met a person and you two seemed to fit together perfectly? From the most broad of interests, such a movies, to the most minute details of life, such as a love for Blue Bell Ice Cream or the fascination of movie trailers? Because I've met someone, someone I'm finally excited about seeing, who gives me that feeling of pure joy when I see him or talk to him or just share dessert with him. And I'm so new at this, so naive as to how I go about this awkward dance of invites and chatting and shared smiles and brief, tingling touches. But this is what he reminds me of: the missing piece of the puzzle, the person who understands this passion for film that no one else I know can comprehend. The person who enjoys coming over to help cook and doesn't mind doing the dishes, who takes life as it comes, is motivated, smart and gives me that feeling I haven't felt about someone in a long time.

And what I've come to realize, what my friend pointed out from his experience, is that what's happening seems to be incredibly organic. It didn't start out as a physical attraction, a drunken hook-up or anything that can cause a relationship to be doomed from the beginning. This may not even be a possible relationship, but what I've come to find is that what's happening is completely the way an attraction to someone, the beginning of something should happen.

Slowly, naturally. It went from hardly knowing him to happenstance chats to a full out two hour talk over lunch and discovering how much there was in common. It was in these moments, these hard times I was having with another person, that I saw his smile. And maybe that's what has won me over.

The entire house is rooting for this kid, and secretly deep down I hope that I don't ruin this.

I was going to post music, but I've come to find that I'm more tired than I anticipated. This day has worn me out, and at the end of it, I feel exhausted and confused. I left my roommates at the moment I received a text to hang out. And while in the end, this night it turned out to be decent, I can't help but feel like I caved in.

I just finished working my third week at the coffee cart in the hospital. So far, so good. It isn't the best job, but the hours are extremely flexible and I make decent tips. I've managed to hurt my self a lot, though, such as various burns on my fingers, some wicked bruises and sore muscles from the damn espresso machine. However, a conversation with a man walking by describes my experience so far at the cart.

I'm sitting in my chair, reading Maggie Cassidy and watching for customers. It's been slow for about an hour, with me selling mainly regular coffees. Enter older gentleman, in mid to late 50s, bent over, walking, with his hand supporting his lower back. Man looks over at me and smiles.

"How're you today?" he asks me.

"I'm alright," I respond, trying to cover the sleepiness in my voice with a smile. "How're you today?"

"Terrible," he responds. Man hobbles away to outpatient surgery.

My smile is wiped off my face and I let out a small, "oh" under my breath, not knowing the proper response.

Yeah, I kid you not. That happened. The place is depressing and makes me dread getting old. I want to look forward to old age. I don't want to end up in a hospital, in pain, young faces pitying me as I'm wheeled away to my doom.

Blah.

I'm loving Maggie Cassidy by Jack Kerouac. I've decided if I have a little girl, she's going to be named Margaret Cassidy.

I need to take more pictures.

all this time lingers undefined

Despite the fact that I'm not happy with the pictures I've been taking, I've somehow managed to be in the newspaper a lot. Today, I had a picture on the front page. Seriously.

I'm the type of person who tends to worry about things and over analyze situations to death. I worry about whether or not we'll all still be friends by the time Austin City Limits rolls around and we have to drive 16 hours to see what might be the best and greatest concerts of our young lives.

I worry about when you turn 21, and if we'll ever spend time together like we do now. The age discrepancy will be painfully obvious when you're 21 and all your friends are 21 and I'm still 19 and will always be a year and a half younger than you. Will you still come over for a beer and a movie on a Friday night? And on your birthday, I won't be able to share any moments with you because you'll be with her, in Louisville. It's this thought alone that brings me down and makes my stomach clench out of nervousness.

This is a horrible comparison, but it's like Joey and Dawson. They weren't meant to be, but despite Dawson's lust for the beautiful, mysterious next door neighbor, Jen, Joey still pinned for Dawson. But all Dawson ever saw Joey as was a friend, the girl he's always known as his friend.

Of course, in the end Dawson ends up wanting Joey, but we all know Joey and Pacey were MEANT TO BE. So I guess what I'm saying is that I know it's futile, and that these intense feelings will go away eventually...but being the friend who is tossed aside and ignored for the beautiful girl sucks. It's selfish to want to keep you for myself. But that doesn't take away that dread of your 21st birthday.

Seriously though, that's the thought that's been eating away at me. I'm so dramatic sometimes, it makes me want to gag.

My mother spent the entire day at the hospital with my dying great-grandfather, which she didn't even have to do because he's on my dad's side and we hardly know him. My mom is amazing. And I felt horrible when she was telling me about this and I was shopping for clothes at J. Crew.

I'm listening to the Weakerthans right now. A lot of the songs on here remind me of you.

When I look at the pictures I've taken in the past few weeks, I really begin to wonder if I'm cut out for this. I feel like instead of improving, I'm progressively getting worse and worse. My pictures lack variety, they lack emotion. And I know what they need, I know what I need to improve on, yet nothing is happening. I'm afraid maybe I'm losing my focus, which is pathetic, since I've only been doing this for two years.

I'm frustrated, and today's assignment just nailed it on the head that I'm not only letting the newspaper down, but I'm letting myself down too.

I feel overworked and stressed. I needed a paying job to be able to stay in Lexington for the summer, and now I'm feeling the stress from my other job. It makes me not look forward to the two days I work at the paper, because that's two more days that I have to work.

And I'm upset that I'm not enjoying this. That I'm not learning and spending time with my photo coach because of this stupid job. I'm not getting out of this what I should be, and I think the paper knows that. I'm waiting for the email or phone call that asks me to come in, that we "need to have a talk."

I'm shooting something tomorrow morning, and I'm determined to look at it differently. To do better, to deliver and to have that special something that's been missing in my photos for the past few months.

ETA:
I have some pretty incredible friends. I need to write a thank you note to a family in Middlesboro. And, I tacked a message to to your cork board. You won't get it until July, but the message should ring true then as it does now.

Last night I ventured to Louisville with some of my Lexington "family" to see The National with Talkdemonic and Shapes 'n Sizes. While I was only able to take pictures of Talkdemonic, the entire show was stunning. I wish I could have captured it on camera, but for the first time in...ever, I was denied access to take pictures. I'm so used to being press that when I'm actually just a person with a really expensive camera, I'm sort of taken aback. I guess it was a nice reality check. I was there for my own personal enjoyment, not press. Despite this, I think that I was able to get in some decent pictures from Talkdemonic. I've never used my 30D at a show before, so actually metering and trying to get the light just right was difficult. My pictures came out weird, but I like them.

I bumped up my ISO to 3200. I don't think I've ever done that before.

Overall, it was a great show. The National pretty much blew me away. I don't know a lot of their music, but I knew that it would be a good show. What was great was that the crowd was absolutely smitten with the band, and you could tell that the band members were having a great time playing.

It was defiintely worth the drive to Louisville and the quiet car ride back home. As much as I hated waking up after five hours of sleep, last night was worth it.

So I guess I should retract that last post. I didn't think I had any readers, but I guess one is worth keeping this thing going.

There's not a whole lot that's been going on with me. I work six days a week, and it's tiring and sometimes I'm not up to seeing people; I cloister myself up in my room and watch reruns of Friends or pop in some good old Felicity.

Haven't had too many adventures. I'm the type of person who hangs out with the same people every night, and with this work schedule, staying in and watching Pete & Pete with my roommate and one of my closest pals is pure bliss.

I've been missing my California buds like crazy. So much so that I don't even think one of the knows the extent of how much I miss him. It's just odd, going from seeing the same people every day for almost a year to not talking for days at a time.

The radio show's been going well. I don't have that many listeners and hey, it's cool. I'm on from three to six am, so I don't know what I was expecting. Some weeks I have tons of callers, most of them are looking for people to talk to. And I guess we're both in the same situation. By the time 4:30am rolls around, I'm desperate for some form of communication. Because what it comes down to is me talking to this imaginary void, trying to engage whoever is listening. It's gratifying to have someone call in and say they really enjoyed a track or they like what I'm playing. But to go a whole night without a phone call? It's crazy.

Plus, I hit that hour where no one is on Facebook. Have you ever seen "No Friends Online" on your "Currently Online"? Because it happens. Usually around 5 a.m.

So, here comes the music:

Sonny Jim::Can't Stop Moving
I can't get enough of this. It makes me want to get on my feet and dance.
M.I.A.::Hit That
This just oozes hip-hop. MIA does things to me that no other female hip-hop artist could.
The Frames::Falling Slowly
This is from a new release, "Once". It looks like a great movie, and the epic chorus with the combination of gradual building of string instrumental gets me every time.
Phat Kat::Cold Steel F/Elzhi
This might just ooze even more hip-hop than MIA. The beats are incredible and the rhymes are just downright impressive. If I could play this on the radio, I would.
Seabear::I Sing I Swim
God, I listened to Seabear 21 times last week and 19 times this week. Seabear is mellow in the way that you need. It's the right amount of smooth, lush indie music and folk. Iceland at it's best.
Nada Surf::Your Legs Grow
I can't believe I just discovered this song. I'd been listening to Nada Surf for awhile but my friend bought me "Your Weight is a Gift" last week and since then, I can't stop listening. You'll love this if you love songs that build up and leave you feeling cleansed.

That's a lot of music. I've been getting into some different genres, expanding my musical horizons. I've said this before, but what's great about working for WRFL is that I'm forced to look into new music and seek things out. I get online and see what's up on the different music blogs. You Aint No Picasso keeps me up to date on my sugar-coated, lush indie-pop/rock. Other sites like So Much Silence and Gorilla v.s. Bear help me out with my underground hip-hop and mahsups. And Music For Robots keeps me on top of the house/electronica scene.

Anyways, that's basically it from my what, week hiatus?

I dunno. There's tons of other things going. Things I'm trying to figure out and sort. I'm interested in seeing where the next few weeks take me. I've been weirded out, confused, and felt head-over-heels all in the past week and a half. What's crazy about summer is that everything feels so much bigger. I said this about college, but living on your own and completely making your own decisions and spending nights out with friends, just drinking and watching television. It's different. And when I go home, I feel out of place. Like this almost adult that doesn't fit in with the family. I'm not a kid, but I'm not a grown-up.

Shew.

Just listen to the music. If you do anything and skim this post, at the least, give the music a chance.

I wonder if anything more will come out of this besides bitching about my life?

I would talk about my internship and how I met these incredible nuns that could change your life, but I'll save that for next time. There's too many words as it is right now .

Well, this was fun.

Short lived, but fun.

The End.

So last night on the radio I played this song, "Everything's Alright" by Kimya Dawson featuring Danielle Ferguson. Ferguson is a small child singing along to a song about one-night stands and that lonely feeling you have inside when you "spoon a guy" and pretend that you can still "be his friend". Not only did I receive a few phone calls about how much people loved it, but the guys that called were shocked that this happens to girls. That girls who live alone bring guys home, and even though he doesn't love her, he keeps her company.

Anyways, this song reminds me of, in a weird way, Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start the Fire". Someone in radio land said that it reminded them of R.E.M.'s "End of the World". I kind of agree with them. With the fast paced listing of pop-culture figures and day-to-day tasks and objects, I can hear the connection.

Everything's Alright w/Danielle Ferguson::Kimya Dawson

I worked around 20 hours in two days and didn't get paid a dime for it.

I have two job interviews this week. The prospect of doing some form of work and getting compensation is glorious. Never before I have I been so grateful for my horrible high school job. I never knew how good I had it until now. Not only was I bringing in over $200 a week (and I know, it's not a lot, but it's more than nothing!) and I was making tips. Lots of tips. I was damn good at that job.

I have such a boring life. I've been called out on how much television I watch, and I know. It's excessive. But man, that Roseanne! What a riot! And seriously, what she did for television is incredible. It's true: you can have a loud-mouthed, big woman on television and people will watch. It's a genre of television. Just like the whole "fat man, skinny wife" genre. This is what I learned on spring break in Evanston.

I think I'm going to the Austin City Limits festival. As soon as those first two paychecks come in, I'm purchasing my ticket. I can't believe that I won't be able to take my camera, though. I mean, I'll bring it, but I can't take it inside the festival. Ridiculous.

My mother told me to stop over-analyzing everything in life. I tend to do that a lot, and I wish I could stop, but hey. That's me. I like the look over every minuscule thing that goes on and ruin moments and just...complicate things.

My posts never have any solid ideas. My thought process is jumbled up, and I bounce around from one idea to another.

However, a continuous theme would be unemployment. And Felicity-esque drama/situations. I think if my life were a television show, it'd be somewhat interesting. Except for the hours when I loaf around at home, waiting for my friends to either get off work or get out of class. My life during the week basically revolves around their schedule and me riding my bike to places I can apply for jobs.

I like bicycling.

During my senior year spring break, I ate a turkey, ham and cheese sandwich every day because not only were they delicious, but I liked them. And I knew that at any time, if I wanted something else, I could go out and get something else.

I've eaten a turkey, ham and cheese everyday for the past week and a half. If I wanted, I could eat something else, but then I'd feel guilty about spending what little money I have.

For some reason, I'm having the most difficult time getting a job. It's mind-boggling and frustrating and ridiculous. I have experience, I'm friendly and I wasn't too desperate. I mean, I'm desperate now, but at the time of applying for jobs I wasn't.

While I'm having a great time hanging out with some people that I never really had the chance to spend time with during the school year, not being able to pay for things sucks.

And seriously, if one loafs too much, one gets sick of loafing.

I never want to get sick of loafing.

Goodness gracious, I'm going to miss you.

I love that Sex and the City comes on at such random hours on syndication. Syndication can be the source of so much happiness for me. It allows me to believe, even if only for a second that, that show is still on air.

I seriously am in dire need of a paying job. If anyone in Lexington is aware of a place that's hiring, please leave me a comment. Keep this in mind, though: I'm not yet 20, so I can't serve alcohol.

Tomorrow I'm going to sleep and read. My days are long and boring, hence the need for a job. The internship is going swell, but 16 hours a week isn't enough to keep me occupied. That's only two days, guys.

When I have some money saved up, I'm going to buy a Bishop Allen cd. I don't know why I don't have any of their music.

Seeing !!! on Friday with a close high school friend. It's going to be great.

This was such a disjointed and emotionally distanced post. Next time I'll write something more eloquent and enjoyable to read.

As comfortable as the floor is, I don't know why you wouldn't just sit on the bed. There was plenty of room, and you wouldn't have been the first person to claim that space of the bed as yours. Yours to watch television with a group a friends.

My house was crowded with people yesterday evening. As a small gathering with friends turned into a huge pasta party, I become frustrated, annoyed. I just wanted to watch the Office, and now, thinking back, I'm not even sure what happened during certain parts of the episode. I'll have to catch it online.

Is this even my house? People are calling it "my house" and "my bed" and "my room", but really it's not. This isn't my bed I'm sitting on, and this isn't my permanent room. I'm only a visitor here, paying rent for two months. But I'm glad that people feel comfortable here, that they feel comfortable around me. That they can just hop on the California King Size and nap on it while I'm watching television. Somewhere over the course of the year I made friends, and close friends at that.

And even now, I'm working on friendships and building relationships; deciphering what's just a friend and what could possibly be more.

Someone asked me once how I know if someone I like or someone that I randomly meet at a party or someone I've known for a long time...how do I know if they're it. They're the one I want to pursue, the person I'm interested in.

I don't know. I had a conclusive answer earlier today, but now I'm not sure. So far I've been wrong.

Yesterday a friend invited me to see Animal Collective at the Southgate House in Cincinnati. Digression, but every time I write Cincinnati, I never know if I'm spelling it correctly. Anyways, it was pretty spur of the moment for me, seeing as how I was on my way to Richmond, Ky to work on photo story that I've been putting time, sweat, my emotional health and gas money into since September.

I'm glad I went. What an incredible show. Despite the mass of sweaty bodies next to me, getting my foot stepped on, having a drink spilled on my shoe and losing my two friends from the people who somehow got in between us, the show blew my mind away. I had always wondered what seeing Animal Collective live would be like, and it was beyond what my wildest imagination could have conceived.

From the crowds singing along and jumping and putting their own mark on the song, to just having a grand time dancing along, Animal Collective was able to take the audience on this wild ride with them. Even when they lost power for a few minutes, the band got back on their feet and continued their electrofantabulastic show.

So for everyone who is over 21 and in Lexington, I highly recommend going out to the Dame tonight to see them perform. You won't regret the $15 the show cost. For a mere $15 you'll be taken to a whole new place, where people raise their fists together and sing about who could win a rabbit.

Just watched last night's The Office. Pam's confession to Jim had me thinking about everything in my life. And about television. Because guys, this is good fiction. This is good television. When you feel for the characters and get involved and you hope with everything inside of you that things work out for them because you feel for them. You feel for them because you see bits of yourself in them. And if there was ever a character that better represented me besides Felicity, it's Pam.

Pam had me thinking of her relationship with Jim, and the friendship that was there before things were weird.

There was time when I hated, for no reason that I could pinpoint, my best friend. I couldn't stand him, his presence enraged me. It got to the point where I didn't want to speak to him. I don't know what happened, because I think at one point he hated me, too. And it was horrible. Because if I pushed aside all that anger I had pent up, deep down I was missing him. I was missing the fun times we had together and the person I was getting to know.

It's only in the last few months that things have somehow changed and we became actual, real friends. He's the person I confide in, who I feel comfortable around even when I look horrible. Who helped me move out and asked nothing in return.

And for some reason, at this very moment, I'm missing him terribly.

I'm only a week and a half into summer, a week and a half into not seeing him on a daily basis. This summer in Lexington is going to be incredible, but I don't know how I'm going to get by without seeing my bestie.

I'm so pumped and oh so nervous about finally going on air. Like, it's this incredibly complex mixture of emotions; I hate public speaking and here I am, putting myself on the radio. But at the same time, I love sharing music, and playing tunes that I love for other people is so exhilarating. Sure, it's at the shittiest time ever, but there'll have to be someone listening.

What's great about the 3-6am time slot is I can basically play whatever. I can experiment with a few sounds, and check out some genres that I'm not too familiar with. It'll be a great ride, with me figuring out what the hell I'm doing while others listen.

I've realized that I've been pretty deprived lately when it comes to concerts. I haven't been to a show in awhile, or really, a non-UK show. Because Margot & the Nuclear So and So's was really fantastic, and that was free.

But the last big show was Death Cab, and I'm really wanting to see something soon. I'm thinking of buying tickets for the CoCoRosie show here in Louisville; anyone want to come with?

I'm taking my sister to a funeral tomorrow. I don't think I'll ever comprehend death.

I've met someone that I really would like to get to know more. If only I wasn't so awkward when it comes to that initial move in communication. Hopefully I wasn't imagining things last week, when I felt a connection. Who knows.

Man, I can't wait to play some Godspeed You Black Emperor next week.

I survived Derby. My cheeks are sunburned, my shoulders are sore, but this morning I received the most gratifying text message.

"You're in the Herald-Leader!!! You're awesome!"

I mean, I didn't need that to feel like I did something incredible yesterday. Because I know that a lot of people will never get the chance to stand on the track of Churchill Downs, or wait for that perfect moment to shoot a photo of horses thundering by, the dirt getting kicked up as they zoom by. To happen to stumble right in the middle of the action as the winning horse and jockey come by, getting congratulated by the trainer.

I had a good time yesterday, despite the hours of waiting and harrassment in the infield. At one point, while waiting for race 9 in the observation box on the backside, I fell asleep while standing. And the infield...man. I was never happier to leave a place.

A photostory that I've been working on since September will be wrapping up soon. I'll post more about that later this week.

I've been home for three days, and can't wait to get back to Lexington. I feel awkward in my own home; in fact, home doesn't even feel like home anymore. I'm a stranger in my own bedroom.

Welcome, Summer. I can't wait to see what you have in store for me.

The walls of my room are bare, with almost every space of white showing. Some of my movies are packed up in boxes, and I'm taking my piece-of-shit-microwave home tomorrow. Seriously, the damn thing didn't even last the entire year. And it's not like we ever had a ton of food in here to warm up...we didn't ask too much from it. Oh well.

There's only one issue left of this year's newspaper. Shew.

Saw Vandaveer in concert today. CD Central had a pretty sweet in-store show early this afternoon. It was nice to walk over there and just take in everything. Every now and then, it's good to do things alone. I recall one Carrie Bradshaw saying she would go out once a month and see a movie by herself. Her date was the city; NYC makes for quite the soul mate.

Well, Lexington and I went on a date this afternoon. It's cool to people watch, and man there are some very interesting cats who come into CD Central.

Also, I was a huge dumbass and left my camera in my dorm. What's lame is that I saw the perfect picture, knew how I would compose it and light it. But there I was, naked without my camera. What kind of photojournalist am I? Answer: A shitty one.

So shitty, in fact, I'm beginning to wonder what the H-L was thinking when they hired me for freelance. That's right kids, I'm doing real photography now. I'll be hitting up the 133rd Kentucky Derby next Saturday, taking pictures of horses and other Derby-ish things. I have a press pass and everything. Needless to say, I'm anxious like whoa. It'll be cool though, I know I can get the shots. I think. I hope.

Radio training is going well. I'm almost done. I think if I sit in on one more show, I'll be ready for my one-hour test show. Last night, someone who works at the station told me that there needed to be a stronger female influence at the station. I was told that it'd be sweet if I named my show something along the lines of "The Vagina Radio Show". I'm seriously considering it.

Well kids, it's incredibly late and I have a pretty hefty amount of material I need to study. Oh, Finals Week! How I loathe you.

Total number of tracks: 3344

Sort by song title:
+ First Song: “'Cause You Can” by Birdmonster
+ Last Song: “Zurich is Stained” by Pavement
+ Shortest Song: “One Last ‘Whoo-hoo!’ For The Pullman” by Sufjan Stevens (0:06)
+ Longest Song: “Tereza and Thomas” by Bright Eyes (25:46)

Sort by album:
+ First Song: “Hat and Rabbit” by Page France(off “...and the Family Telephone”)
+ Last Song: “Two Weeks In Hawaii” by Hellogoodbye (off “Zombies! Aliens! Vampires! Dinosaurs!”)

Top 10 Most Played Songs:
1 + “Hotel Song” by Regina Spektor
2 + “Fraud in the 80's” by Mates of State
3 + “Unfold” by Jason Mraz
4 + “Ceremony” by New Order
5 + “For Real” by Okkervil River
6 + “Your Ex-Lover Is Dead” by Stars
7 + “Wrapped Up In Books” by Belle & Sebastian
8 + “For the Actor” by Mates of State
9 + “Coming Home” by the 88
10 + “Goods” by Mates of State

First five songs that comes up on Shuffle:
1 + “Chicago” by Sufjan Stevens
2 + “Leaf House” by Animal Collective
3 + “Broadway” by Goo Goo Dolls
4 + “Watermark” by The Weakerthans
5 + “The Long Fall” by Cabin

"sex," how many songs come up + 14
"love," how many songs come up + 177
"death," how many songs come up + 42
"hate," how many songs come up + 24
"wish," how many songs come up + 6

Wow. I had to edit this, because it was complete bull. I seriously need to take my writing up a level.

Has anyone seen the Insight Cable commercials? They're a total rip-off of The Office. Those clever guys in advertisements are probably leaning back in their recliners, chuckling at their genius. I applaud them, since they actually catch my attention.

I hope my roommate is alive. I haven't seen her all day, and it's 2 in the morning.

Geez louisee. I really think no one reads this blog, and to be perfectly honest, I'm okay with that. For some reason, the idea of putting myself out there completely freaks me out.

The other morning when I was doing my training for WRFL, Matt put me on air. Ahahaha, did I clam up. I don't even know why I was so anxious. I mean, I'm the one who volunteered to do this. I've been dreaming of becoming a college dj ever since I became "indie". How lame is that? The night before, one of my best pals said he was going listen to the show. I was happy to find out, however, that he overslept and managed to miss my awkward two minutes on air.

"Phewww! Good thing you didn't hear me; I managed to screw it up!"

"I wish I heard you!"

"No way! You would've made fun of me."

"Of course!"

I have such wonderful friends.

Speaking of wonderful friends, the end of the school year is right around the corner. I'm a little freaked out, to be honest. But then again, the summer is looking pretty nice right about now. Just three finals, and I'm out of Lexington for a good week and-a-half. Hah. Joke's on me.

Have you ever really wanted to talk to someone, but didn't know how to start the conversation? It's not even like you want to have a heavy convo, but you just want to chat. I need to have some more confidence. Maybe if I went out on the street and broke into song, singing about my confidence in sunshine and rain, that would give me a boost in what I'm so obviously lacking.

If you got that musical reference, you're a winner.

But back to the conversation thing...maybe my problem (besides a lack in confidence) is I don't do a whole lot of talking. I really just enjoy listening to people. Maybe that's why I get such a kick out of Overheard In New York. I love what other people have to say. It can be completely ridiculous or extremely deep; I just love hearing folks talk.

I guess that's enough random bloggary for tonight. Amos Lee tomorrow. I guess I can make an actual, musical entry tomorrow after the show. And the Office. Oh man. Tomorrow is going to be gooood.

the smell of spilt alcohol and cigar smoked lingered, and i was okay

It's weekends like the past one that are going to leave me missing college once the summer rolls around. Sure I'm ready for this semester to be over. In fact, I can't wait. My classes have been boring, and once I take that math test I can say GOOD DAY TO YOU, FORMAL MATHEMATICS CLASSES! The thought of it brings me pure joy.

This weekend was solid, as a friend of mine would say. I started it off early with Thursday. Spending it with some great friends, some good music and overall good times. At one point there was 14 people in my room, including some random basketball players. I continued on to Friday, wherein I took part in some training to become a dj at the local college radio station, chilled with some cool kids, and danced with friends. At one point in the night, there was five of us yelling the lyrics to Cold War Kids' "Hospital Beds". It was almost creepy, how we all knew the lyrics so well.

And Saturday? Saturday was spontaneous. I spontaneously decided to go to a recital, to wear a dress and spontaneously attend Thunder over Louisville. I spent Thunder with one of my best friends, and couldn't have planned for a better evening. The weather was perfect, the people were perfect. I was completely and utterly happy.

And now it's Sunday. The day I dread. But Sunday wasn't bad; in fact, the 22nd of April was gorgeous. Warm weather was bestowed to us, and many students took this most opportune sunshine to sit outside and not only get some necessary homework accomplished, but to also soak in some fabulous UV rays.

I was also able to finish a mix cd that I've been working on for the past week. I don't know when the recipient will receive his cd, but I'm guessing it'll be whenever I go out and buy some blank cds. It's incredible/pathetic how quickly I go through those.

Also, I'm really digging the new Shins album. It definitely lives up to their past work, and all the while takes their sound to a new level. If you haven't grabbed it yet, you should go out and get Wincing the Night Away. For old Shins fans, songs like "Australia" will have you smiling and boppin' your head. For those of us interested in a different Shins, "Sea Legs" won't let you down.

The Shins-Turn On Me
The Shins-A Comet Appears

summer arrives with a length of lights

Yesterday I attended the memorial service for a professor here. He was a printmaking professor, and during the service, some of his past students and faculty friends were working on finishing his final print that he wasn't able to get around to.

"He tried to work on it, but his hands were too weak."

One of his students had told him that if he ever happened to die young, that he would want his professor to finish what he started. The same went for the professor.

A graduate student took the drawing that the professor had done, and carved the woodcut. They finished it at the service, and showed it to the crowd. It was beautiful. I snapped pictures of the entire process.

The entire event was so sad. But the remembrance of this guy, the anecdotes people shared, the tears and laughter...I was a complete stranger in this convocation of remembrance, and somehow even I was affected. I guess that's a sign of someone who was really, truly special. I was impacted by him after his death. He had to have been an incredible person.

In other news, I'm on my way to becoming a DJ for the local college radio station. Could I become more of a cliche college student?

I work for the newspaper. I'm going to work at the radio station. I listen to indie music, skip classes, and nap.

It's beautiful outside.

do i walk or do i wait?

Everyone has strengths and weaknesses. Some are blaringly obvious, like that kid in grade school who was incredible at math but couldn't speak to a girl to save his life. There are others that aren't as obvious, like the girl who gets along with everyone but can never actually get close to a single person.

Deary me...however, as much as I would like to bitch and moan, I really have no reason to. Today has pointed that out to me more than ever.

This whole day has been extremely odd and disjointed. From my mother calling me first thing this morning with an impending sense of doom, to running into a friend in the middle of a crosswalk and not being able to have an actual conversation.

Let's lighten things first with this incident:

Of all the awkward places to run into someone, the most awkward has to be the crosswalk. You can't just stop and talk in the middle of it, and you're both heading in the opposite direction, so you'd obviously be going out of your way if you turned around to chat. That, and you'd have to wait for the next cycle of traffic to come through before you can cross again. You know you want to talk to said individual, but everything is against you. The timing of it is off, the short and strained wave and terse words make you turn your head when you've finally made it to the other side, and you wonder, "Should I have waited?" There was the possiblity for a compelling afternoon chat, and you might have ruined it.

We'll have to start running into each other in places besides the middle of a busy street.

On the other spectrum of my day...my mother called this morning, panicked and worried. I didn't really listen to her, seeing as how it was 7:30 a.m.. little did I know that it was only moments after the first shooting at Virginia Tech University.

32 are reported dead, including the gunman. Many are wounded, and life on that campus probably won't return back to normal for a very long time. And will things ever be normal for anyone after this tragedy? The most fatal shooting in American history occurred today in a place where students woke up, grabbed their cereal, and headed out the door for what they believed to be another monotonous day of classes. To wake up in the morning, never to return? It's crazy. And it's almost not even tangible, how one person can cause so much pain in the span of a few hours.

Trying to bring it home at UK felt selfish. Attempting to make pictures of students suffering felt wrong. This isn't our tragedy, this isn't ours to make news of. A massacre on a school campus isn't ours to make a story out of. It didn't feel right.

I hope all is well with everyone who is at Virgina Tech. I was relieved to hear that my close friend is safe and sound, and I can't even begin to grasp what the students at VT are going through.

It's been a crazy day.

snow in april, what more could you ask for?

So everyone has ventured home for Easter, and I? I was stuck in Lexington covering the press conference of our new head coach, Billy Gillispie. Welcome, Billy G. The Kentucky Kernel is putting out a special edition tomorrow, so if you're going to be in the Lextown area, pick up a copy.

With this newfound free time, I've decided to listen to some recommendations from friends. A good pal of mine told me about this guy, Mika. I listened to what he had to offer on is Myspace and initally was turned off. I didn't like, didn't like his style. It felt like it'd be done before, and I was just listening to another Brit-pop sensation.

But later that night I happened to see the music video for "Grace Kelley" and my thoughts on this guy changed.




Now, I'm going to admit. It's campy and pop-ish, but sometimes we all need a little bit of that. At times, Mika manages to sound like Freddy Mercury, which honestly gives me the chills. So, while it might not be my all-time favorite to come out in 2007, it'd definitely a toe-tapper. Or something one would listen to in the car with the windows down and volume turned way up.

That is, if it were warm outside.

it's like felicity, but without the tape recorder

When I was working at the paper today, I commented on the fact that it's already April. Job interviews for next semester start tomorrow, and I'm the first person signed up. Do I even know what I'm getting myself into? Do I want to know what I'm getting myself into? I bet if I knew what kind of semester the fall of 2007 is going to be like, I'd probably jump out of my window. That'd be pretty lame, though. Girl jumps out of fourth story dorm window. Pathetic.

So freshman year has flown by, and the weeks left in the semester are few. As I was walking from the newspaper one night with a good friend of mine, she said that she felt as thought that BIG THING that's supposed to happen freshman year hadn't happened yet.

"You know," she said to me, "it feels incomplete. It's as though there should be something that should have happened. I feel like I haven't accomplished anything."

And maybe this feeling rings true for many freshman. We've been loafing around, barely getting by. It's too obvious in the fact that we're the poorest academic class that UK has seen in years. Good job, guys. I sallute you on your slacking. And I'm not going to lie, I've done my fair share of not caring both semesters. I routinely skip my 9:30 math class, and have no qualms about missing my 5:30 geology class to go shoot something for the Kernel.

So what is it? What's missing? What's that huge thing that we're all looking forward to? But here's the true question: Has it already happened and we were all too busy that we missed it.

Looking back, I realize that a lot has happened. I've met an absurd amount of new people, discovered what I'm most likely going to do with my life, shot amazing pictures, lined up an internship for this summer, signed on an apartment for this fall, seen some amazing bands in concert, and fallen in and out of love. I've made new relationships, broken old relationships, and slowly mended hurt relationships.

I've been hurt and hurt others. I watched a hell of a lot of television and discovered others who understand that John Krasinski is the most amazing thing since sliced bread. I travelled to Chicago without my family and rode a Greyhound (A GREYHOUND!) back to Louisville.

I taught someone how to take pictures. I have my own income and don't ask my parents for money--unless I desperately have to.

I have a crush. I discovered my love for coffee. I read a book that changed my life. I've met people who've changed my life.

I've been published in a newspaper. I wrote articles for a newspaper. I decided that I want to go to grad school and have been told that UC Berkeley isn't out of reach.

I've danced in the rain and cried with friends. I've stayed out until 4 a.m. and regretted the decisions I made the night before.

I've woken up next to someone I truly cared about. I know what it's like to be in a relationship, and I know what it looks like when you've been hurt.

But mostly? I lived. I lived without limits, and let myself do things I never thought I would do.

So maybe I didn't drive to Canada or whatever. But I think my freshman year was pretty productive.