Formalities

Next weekend David and I are having our engagement pictures taken. It makes me wonder how our culture comes to accept things as tradition. Who first decided to have formal pictures taken to announce their marriage? Who knew it would turn into a multi-billion dollar business. We're pretty excited about it since we've never had our pictures taken by a professional together.

We get excited about little things like that. Of course, the photo shoot is on an odd day-- superbowl sunday. Thank goodness we're having them taken early in the day so as not to disrupt my football watching!

Ever had a really bad photo experience?

Writing

Anis Nin said writing was like breathing. For me, it's the same. I cannot go a day without writing, just as people cannot go without breathing.

When I was young, I would write for myself. Poems, songs I didn't have music for, stories, letters, journal entries. Every day I still write-- it's what I do for a living. But somedays, it feels like I am not writing for myself. Rather, I am writing for my audience -- writing what I think something should sound like.

I have to stop writing for other people. Journalism is about telling stories, real people's stories. But in that, I have to remember that first and foremost I am writing it for myself. If it's not interesting to me I shouldn't be writing it.

My need to not sound stupid or immature or pompous or redundant gets in the way of the kid who used to just write in her journal knowing if someone read it she wouldn't mind, because at least she liked it.

I have to shut the critic off and let the words come out of me like the air I breathe.

So what if this is corny? So what if someone laughs while reading it. At least I like it, and it's what came out.

The Best Gifts in Life Are People Who Love You

A while back I told you about some rotten person who stole David's NAVY bootcamp sweatshirt right out of the washing machine, never to be seen again.

Well, today David got a package from one of his friends (whom I have met) and I called David at work to tell him that he had a package waiting for him. He called me back and told me to open it for him.

After peeling back about 8 layers of clear packing tape, I opened up the box to find a brand new very large NAVY bootcamp sweatshirt.

My eyes teared up, and it made me think of when I got the first version of that sweatshirt years ago. Feels like home being in it. David said he called his friend the night the sweatshirt was stolen so I could have a new one. It's not the fact I got a new sweatshirt that makes me happy, it's the fact that Dave would think to call his friend to have him go get me a new one that means so much.

New Year

I am starting to feel the pressure of finding where I will go next after Poynter. Where will my next job be? I am still enjoying Poynter and have a lot left to learn, but I am the type of person who dislikes not knowing what is next.

Dave has a few possibilities up north, and luckily there are many papers I could work at... I am just hoping I'll find something at around the same time he decides what he is going to do. I would like us to find a nice place to live, and look for that place together.

New Year, new possiblities.