The Pops

David and I went to see the Boston Pops on the 26th, as part of our Christmas present from my parents. We had a blast. His parents came as did mine -- the proof is in the smiles of the great time we had.

From our patio when there are no hurricanes.  

The sunset.  

The sunset from our patio, the view from our patio when I first moved in, David lounging in our first grown up chair, and me on a segway.  

What I've been up to

Since a bunch of you have been begging me to put pictures up on this blog... here some are.

Elizabeth & David Dec. 26, 2004 at the Boston Pops in Boston's Symphony Hall.  

My year in Review

2004 was a great year for me. Here are some of the highlights:
I lived alone at Simmons and had great friends there.
I got to visit David in Sciliy.
David got out of the NAVY.
I got a journalism award from Simmons.
I graduated from Simmons.
I attended Poynter's summer fellowship.
I was selected as Poynter's year long intern.
David asked me to marry him-- July 22, 2006 here we come!
I was offered a freelancing gig from the Organization of News Ombudsmen.
David came to live with me in Florida.
I got a great new car that I love-- my first car that is actually MINE.
My parents visited for Thanksgiving.
My best friends agreed to be in my wedding.
Alex is getting married.
Reagan is getting married.
David and I have started saving money for a house.
We're going home for Christmas. Our first time traveling together!
We're going to have a happy new year.

Best wishes in 2005, here's hoping it's as good as 2004.

Bah Humbug

Last night my fiance and I had a big bah humbug session.

Here's the scenario: Last week my favorite khakis turned up missing. This week, my favorite PJs were missing... along with the sweatshirt my fiance gave me when he first got out of bootcamp 4 years ago.

Why would anyone steal my ratty old sweatshirt? While I am not one who clings to material possessions, not having that sweatshirt really upset me. It got me through many long nights in Boston without him.

So, my fiance, got angry-- for me. I got sad, he went to do something about it. He went to the laundry room we use at our apartment complex, and he rummaged. He came home about 20 minutes later with a trashbag full of our clothes. Turns out someone had decided that they wanted to use the washing machine our clothes were in and just decided to take ours out-- mid-cycle. So our clothes were thrown--wet--into the trash.

It wasn't the whole load we recovered. Who knows what we will. I got my favorite pants back, and my favorite PJs.

But not the Navy sweatshirt.

We put up a sign in the laundry room. But I have a feeling I will never see it again. I'm upset about my sweatshirt. But, at least I still have the man who used to wear the sweatshirt with me.

Coming on Christmas

It's November, and already the stores and coffee shops have Christmas stuff out. Thanksgiving is next week, and it hit me. I only have a few months left at Poynter. It is truly a scary thought for me. I have to start searching for a new job, and while that is exciting, it is also slightly terrifying.

David and I want to move to Maine... my ideal job would be there. I have to start writing cover letters and sending my resume out again. David starts work today, and already has lots of contacts and job possibilities if we are lucky enough to move back north.

There are still so many people at Poynter I want to go to lunch with and talk about journalism with. And I have very little time left to do that in.

Wish me luck. Maybe a good conversation with a paper in Maine will be my Christmas present.

Hurricane Number 4

This time the hurricane's name is Jeanne. So, here I am, sitting again in my apartment wondering if I will lose another weekend to being stuck in my apartment...waiting for my fiance to arrive and make me feel whole again and not so alone in the storm.
When you can't really go out in a hurricane and you're unsure of what damage it will bring you find yourself thinking about all sorts of things. At least, that's how I am finding myself now. When I graduated from Simmons College in May, I was excited about moving to Florida and working at Poynter-- and Poynter has been the best and scariest thing I have done concerning my career so far. Everyday I learn something, and at night I come home and try and wrap my head around all of what I learned, want to learn, want to write about, hope to be a better editor at. I never would have told you that I would want to live in Florida-- and the hurricanes are making me miss New England more than ever. But Poynter is just the type of challenge I tell my friends I crave...and it's scary to think I'm working there. What will happen in a year when Dave and I have to move someplace? Will I get a good job that I love going to? Will he be happy in his job? And how is it possible to have *so far* achieved all the goals I had set for myself for after my graduation from Simmons.
I wanted to:
1. Move out of my parents house for good to show that I am independent
2. Get a job in the journalism industry that I love
3. Spend as much time as possible with David and really work at being the *normal* couple we used to be before the military
4. Write better than I have before

I'm still working on numbers 3 and 4-- but three is slowly getting there too now that David and I are engaged. Ever since I met him in 8th grade all I've wanted was to have his last name be my last name.
It's scary to have things going so well-- maybe that's why all of these hurricanes are coming-- just to keep me off balance and slightly stressed out. It's almost like I am waiting for the other shoe to drop and have something go horribly wrong even though I don't want that shoe to ever actually drop.

Happy Hurricane News

So, since the last post we've had another hurricane (Ivan)-- which I left town for. I decided to fly home to see my parents. I arrived on Saturday, and on Sunday my boyfriend drove up from where he was staying with friends in Virginia.
On Monday we went out to dinner at our favorite resturant in Boston. Toward the end of dinner he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him-- I of course said yes. Now he is my fiance.
We've been together for 7 years, and apart doing the long-distance thing for 4 when he was in the military. I am so excited I could burst!
I have lots of planning to do, but not without everyone's help. Got suggestions? I'd love to hear them.

Hurricane Frances

Now I remember why I love the North-- we rarely-- if ever-- have hurricanes. Now, in my summer in the warm southern air in Florida we have managed to have 2 in the span of a few weeks! And, a 3rd is on the way. So far we've had Charley, Frances, and now they're talking about Ivan. I am beginning to think taking this year long fellowship was not such a great idea weather wise.
I am also beginning to think that maybe it's my fault. This summer during the 6-week fellowship I wrote an article about how St. Pete Beach preps for hurricanes. I wrote how they hadn't had a hurricane there since 1928--- and now we've had 2. It's strange watching the news casts and seeing Gary Vickers the Pinellas County EOC head and think back to when I interviewed him this summer. I think about how he told me that he was worried about this year, eight major named hurricanes are predicted. So far, we're only through three!
It's definately an experience that's for sure. But one experience that I am not fond of.
My friend Laura said it sounded exciting and how she liked bad weather. I used to be like that too-- but after being cooped up in my apartment since Friday I am just about going stir crazy.
Hurricane season doesn't end until Nov. 30, and the newscasters say that the peak of hurricane season is next week.
Goody.

Postscripts

When I workd at the Viriginian-Pilot I worked with a great writing coach named Freddie Kirsch. He had all of the interns there write these little tiny (had to only be either 12 or 15 inches can't remember which now) extended obits. This is an example of a postscript (one that Freddie just happened to write). The reason I liked writing them was because it forced you to write very tight, and make it interesting because -- even dead people have stories. Freddie taught us to read the obits in the paper, and pick out something that stood out for us-- for me it was always interesting nicknames since I have a few interesting ones myself. These postscripts don't look like much, but they taught me how to speak with people that just lost a loved one, and the value in providing one last article on someone's life.

Virtual Girlfriend

While reading my daily dose of The Boston Globe online today, I saw this article. With thoughts of my own boyfriend coming home from the military soon... I just had to read this. Does this article show that there is now hope for some guys? Or, being from an all-girls school (like I am--Simmons) were you offended that such a thing even came out. Then, I wondered why I was so offended when just last Christmas the department stores were selling a product named Mr. Wonderful. Somehow though, I feel this is different....

'Virtual girlfriend' demands gifts
Associated Press
She needs to be coddled with sweet talk and pampered with gifts, but you'll never see her in the flesh. A Hong Kong company has developed a "virtual girlfriend" for new cell phones with video capability.

Artificial Life Inc.'s electronic love interest -- sort of a Tamagotchi for adults -- will appear as an animated figure on a telephone screen and respond by voice to text messages you send.
But she'll require a lot of attention, involving virtual flowers and diamonds, company spokeswoman Ada Fong said. Though gifts are nothing but data, suitors will have to pay cold, hard cash.

Environmental Persuasion

Being a northern girl at heart, I feel displaced in Florida. Not to say I don't love it-- but I miss the cold air, the snow, my beloved Boston Globe where I got my start. But, here in St. Petersburg, I am at the Poynter Institute for the next year trying to soak up how to become a better journalist.
Working in the online section at Poynter, I feel compelled to start a blog--and I was inspired by a journo friend Laura Fries. Go to her blog...and post a comment.
So, here it is:My blog. I swear after this first horrible explainer post it will get better. In the meantime go ahead. Google me.