To be wed...and jobless---j.p. 6/28/05

Dishes and groceries,
Shopping and more,
Scrubbing and cleaning,
Mopping tiled floors.
Catching Katie Couric
On the morning show,
Taking a run by the pond
(Sometimes feelin' slow).
A story here, a story there
But otherwise, not much to do.
Trying to enjoy it
Before we hit month two.
Vacuuming and laundry
Straightening up the bed,
I'm starting to understand
A little about being wed.

Me, the little housewife
(Though unvoluntarily).
Stuck inside a home
While the temp passes 103.
Wishing for something steady
Maybe time to scrapbook,
But waiting on the pictures
That over a month ago we took. (dang the digital age!)

Lord help me to understand
Why this is the position You want me in,
Help me to be patient
And not wonder where You've been.

A college degree and a little talent
Is apparently not enough,
When it comes to waiting on the position
Is it all about luck?
Or is there a meaning
To all of this waiting?
To all of this frustration
And commiserating?

*Pray for me y'all---I want a good job!--soon!

Heidi-ho everyone!
T-minus 11 days til our wedding day. T-minus 9 days until graduation day. T-minus 15 days until we leave for our honeymoon. Can you believe it?
And most importantly...t-minus 6 days until finals and work are over for me! Slightly scary on the work side of things, but it'll be great to be done with finals.
Random things I thought or saw today (by 9 a.m.)

I saw a transvestite walking down Apache Blvd wearing a sequined, silver top. I think he/she was tweaked out, but the person was also playing with a long, ribbon-like thing and twirling it around. Wonder what he/she was thinking...

I saw the pretty flower garden near Hayden Library on ASU's main campus today. It made me think about the old ladies who come and prune it every week. I realized it's going to be one of my last times seeing it on a regular basis.

My Alfred Hitchcock class is over.

It's my last day for my rock climbing class---I'm going to have some friends take pictures of me climbing the upside-down part of a climb I'm trying to master (hope I look buff! haha)

I have to work on my precision journalism project that's due at 7:40 a.m. Thursday morning (when will I do this? No idea)

Two weeks from tomorrow I will be Mrs. "P." How nuts is that? whoops, I don't mean that the idea is crazy, just the fact that it's coming up so soon. It's amazing to me that it's right around the corner and it doesn't feel like it. I guess that happens when you prepare for so long for something that never seems like it's ever going to happen. Graduation is less than two weeks away and I have finals starting on Thursday. My last day of work for both jobs is Thursday as well. I'll be leaving my internship along with the 2 boys I've watch grow up for the past four years. That'll be crazy too.
I am looking forward to having a vacation though. All this planning and preparing has tuckered me out and work and everything else has only added to it. But you know what? God has really kept me safe and, for the most part, healthy through everything and I am so grateful for that. I've been able to rest this semester even though every waking minute seems to be filled. He's provided time to spend with Obadiah, time to get my schoolwork done, time to pack up my room and other household items and time to get other misc. things out of the way. Still a list of little things to do, but we're almost there, thankfully. Now if I can only get everyone organized to decorate the reception site facilities on the big day.....

The place where I grew up is empty now. I walked into my childhood room and looked around. It had been filled with workout equipment after I left, but the pink valance over the window was still there and the window sill was still the same tea rose pink as when I loved it. There used to be hearts and cats along the border of my room, but they were painted over when I left. The closet is bare now and I couldn't help but step inside one last time. I used to sit and read inside my closet. It was my special spot, sort of like I was camping out with my flashlight in my dark closet among old clothes hangin at the back of it. The practice was abandoned as soon as I was in junior high school and outgrew the space. Now the top of my head is about the height of the top shelve of the closet. Amazing what time can do.
I sat outside on the grass and looked up at the stars one last time from my childhood home. I couldn't smell the cows the way I used to be able to. The dairies have long since moved further south.
It was a night I'll never forget and a place that will always hold fond memories. But I'll never go back there and the home where my parents are now, will never feel like home for me. I'll be going to "my parents' house." Wow. So much change and life in store for me right around the corner.

With wedding preparations also comes moving preparations. It's a time when I get to discover all of the things I stuck in boxes and forgot about. Such is the case when my parents handed me two of my boxes that were in their attic. I haven't opened one of the boxes, but it's huge. The other one I got from them on Sunday and opened it that evening. It was filled with plaques and trophies. I remember putting those things away about 4 years ago when I graduated high school. It was a much different time in my life and my view of life and what it was about was much different as well. I had been a successful cross country and track runner and fairly athletic through my teenage years so the plaques and trophies were my prized possessions. The box had "IMPORTANT: DO NOT THROW OUT OR SELL" scribbled in magic marker across the top. First of all, who would have wanted to buy someone else's plaque or trophy? It just shows how important they were to me.
As I sifted through the plaques and trophies, I was flooded with memories of cross country races and the way I led my team. I remembered being honored as a Student of the Month of my whole high school and how my cross country coach, also math teacher, encouraged me through it all. I stared at a softball with all of my stats from my 7th grade team and the trophy we won as a team in 8th grade when we finished first after a tough game.
But they don't matter now. They're only past memories and clutter, but I still struggled to throw them away. I put three of my sports plaques away and threw out the rest of the clunky trophies. What will I ever do with them?
It reminds me of the sermon Pastor Mark gave this past Sunday. He talked about the things we put to death and buried when we began following Christ and how often we dig those things back up and want to play with them. The things that used to be so important to us have been buried with Christ. I would hope that the pride that I had, the obnoxious, sometimes over-the-top competitiveness I had, have been buried and remain there, but as I looked at the trophies, I knew that at least some of the pride was still there. I was good. Really good.
I found the NCAA sports clearance sheet in my closet the other day; proof that I was eligible to compete in college sports. I never followed through with it because I wanted to focus on school. Thank goodness I didn't go through with it because I know for a fact that my life would have been completely different. I would've stayed that prideful runner who looked down her nose at people who called her sport "track." I would've remained the person who coveted her chiseled calves and tight stomach (still wish I could get back there, but then again, who would I be if I was?). The life I lived prior to college was much more selfish, but it was Christ who pulled me out of it and in July of 2002, I was baptized; my public confession of faith. I turned my life over to Christ.
My past trophies are buried with Christ and I hope they stay there. But I can see how I still hold on to some of that glory from 4 years ago.

Life is coming at me fast. But it's good. Lately I've felt a spiritual renewing in my heart; a desire to praise and sing in a way I haven't felt for a while. Who knows why we go through these seasons, but they certainly aren't always pleasant. For me, it feels like a miserable vacation from God. "Miserable" and "vacation" in addition to "God" should never be allowed in the same sentence, but in this case, I think it's okay.
There have been so many times over the last several months where I've felt so overwhelmed by my circumstances and though I've turned to God and prayed, it just didn't feel very enthusiastic, as hard as I tried. He knows my heart, I know this for a fact and I know he knows I want to pray with fervor. I guess I just don't get why it doesn't feel that way.
Anyway, the change has been nice and the David Crowder Band has aided me in this, though I don't have their CDs...thanks K-Love, the radio station I often deem "too cheesy" to listen to and opt for the more hip station Air1. But there's something about getting enlightened by praise music, you know? So if you see me stuck in traffic heading north on the 101 in my white Saturn and I look like I'm waving to no one, just assume I'm having my praise time. It definitely helps the drive and the day. :)
My internship is coming to a close very soon, which has made me begin my job hunt. Fortunately, in the business I'm wishing to go into, contacts are practically everything. I'm hoping that my experience will show in the work I've done and that someone will want me. The other big thing that I'm praying for, aside from God giving me the right job, is that this employer, if they want me, will be willing to wait for me until the very last week of May, considering my marriage, honeymoon and all. I know God's timing is perfect and He's got the right job and the right situation lined up for me, so I'm not going to worry. Right now, in this season, it seems it's all about waiting. So I'll wait.

Drama, drama, drama. My goodness. I feel like I'm constantly muttering that to myself. And man has today been FILLED with it.
While I was gone, my reorder of wedding invitations finally came in. So we dove into them last night and started addressing them, only to discover that the ink was black instead of silver. Realizing we have basically no time left to ship them back to the company and get replacements, I decided to settle and just fold away last night. Every time I folded the invitations, my heart sank. Black ink on beautiful champagne-colored paper. What a pity. Everything else had silver writing EXCEPT for our beautiful invitations. I decided to just call the company in the morning and see if anything could be done.
I called them this morning and PRAISE GOD, they're going to reprint the invitations today and send them overnight to us! They should be here tomorrow. Phew.
Then my day continued with two stories breaking over my head, my midterm internship review from my editor and a long day before school. (did that sentence make sense?) It was a crazy day and it's not over yet. Fortunately the stressful part is over and now I can go sit through my Alfred Hitchcock movie class. I always come out of there in a better mood, so I'm hoping that happens (not that my mood is terrible right now).
I was gone in Ensenada, MX over the Spring Break and though it was a lot of work and I got very little sleep, it was a great trip. It was wonderful to get to know some of the teens better and just interact with them and relax with them. It was also nice to spend time with the little ones and put gigantic smiles on their faces and illicit gut-giggles. Nothing better.
I'm about to say something slightly controversial, however. I loved Door of Faith (the orphanage), it was beautiful, however, I was slightly bummed at what great shape it was in and the amount of volunteers it received. That sounds odd, but let me explain.
I have experienced going into a Mexican orphanage before, but the other one was what you would expect an orphanage to be as opposed to what Door of Faith was. It was grey and cinderblock and the children were dirty and starved for attention. Door of Faith received tons of volunteers and receives lots of money from churches like mine and also Southern California churches which I'm sure are pretty well off. What's disappointing to me is I think of the orphanages that aren't Vineyard-oriented or affiliated and the probably hundreds that don't receive even half of the support as this orphanage and I wonder why we aren't serving there? Is it because it's convenient and we're used to this orphanage and we know the kids will like it? I don' t know, but I couldn't help but wonder if maybe the teens would have gotten more out of going to an orphanage that wasn't so well off. The kids at Door of Faith in essence have a family, as DJ has said. I know he's trying to train up other orphanages, which is great, but I don't know. I just see the faces of the kids I left behind two years ago at that cinderblock orphanage in Hermosillo and can't help but think "dang, these kids got the short end of the stick." So that's my feeling on the Door of Faith thing. It was a good experience though.
Gotta go to see Alfred. Hasta luego mis amigos!

Ode to the Sick Day

Sitting in my cubicle,
Feeling sorry for myself,
Watching the clock tick,
Wishing I were somewhere else.
At home my bed beckons me,
Covers still turned out,
And I slump tiredly in my chair,
Trying not to pout.

It's Friday and I'm sick,
Wishing to childhood I could return,
So the nurse could call my parents
And tell them my forehead burns.
My nose is runny,
My body achy,
I really shouldn't be here,
But I've been paid my wage,
And my boss looms near.
Gone are the glory days,
When a sniffle brought you home.
And an ache in your belly merited a nap,
On nice, cushy foam.
So here I am stuck,
Working diligently away,
Thinking back to yesteryear,
When there was such thing as a 'sick day.'

So wedding planning is going pretty well. I feel like it's just a lot of little things to manage now and every free moment I have, I've found myself calling or e-mailing and then getting to my homework or calling an interviewee to prep for a story I'm working on. More than anything else, I'm realizing I have to lean more on God in this time because, man, I suck. The busier I get, the more I realize that I can't handle what I think I can by myself. And that's where the wedding planning enters the equation.
I'm having to hand over several large projects to special people in my life, having to depend on them to get the details done in the way I would like them and in the time I would like them. I've had to have a lot of grace with one in particular, but prayer and just talking to God about these things has really made me a lot more giving and understanding and alleviated a lot of pressure off of the whole situation. I'd like to say that I'm a calmer person, that I don't worry anymore, but it's just not true. I've been watching several special people in my life worry on a constant basis and I see so much of myself in them, yet it's not something I want to continue doing.
The wedding planning time seems more than anything to be just sharpening me and making me see qualities in myself that are ugly at times and beautiful at others. I see the selfish part of me, the controlling, perfectionist part of me and then in other times I see the giving, patient, compassionate side of me that says that things don't have to be perfect, that no one will ever be completely satisfied with everything I do or with the decisions I make.
I know that God has a reason for making me feel so strongly about having my family at the "big event" and I see how he's doing that. I may not always pass with flying colors, but I can see Him working in me as I desire to honor him and the special people in my life in appropriate ways.

Free. jg-2/7/05
The equation doesn't add up,
The means to the ends,
Why I'm standing here,
Why he still defends.
All along he's been with me,
He's seen me through those times,
The times when I ran my own race,
The times I thought I'd won.
The false celebration and emptiness,
Seemed to leave me far behind,
And when I thought my maturity had saved me,
Only loneliness did I find.
He long chose me before I truly chose him,
The unknown conscience, the "little voice,"
And when I grew tired of hearing it,
I'd ignore it at my choice.
Past times seem so far away now,
Yet one step and they seem anew,
The battle rages on within me
To overcome what it can't undo.
I try to do it myself,
Twisting and pushing away,
But still the yeast rises,
Worse still when I pray.
The justifications, manipulations
They wear at the heart
Until my fighting is fleeting,
And it's broken all apart.
My crumbling body lays broken
Balled up on the ground,
Awaiting the gentle meekness
Of he that surrounds.
He chose me from among the crowd
And felt my softest touch,
The one he felt certain
The one he loved "that" much.
He took my blackness,
He took my pain,
He took my fighting and disdain.
He took my heartache,
He took my pride,
He revived that "me" deep inside.
Life's not perfect nor will it ever be
Because it's waiting to be set free.

Exactly one week until my first day of internship work at the Republic. More than anything I want this to go well and impress the socks off of someone over there so I can (maybe) get a job after college. I know it's a long shot, but I guess I just want to end up doing something I enjoy, you know? The Tribune is an option as well, but we'll see what happens.
On Sunday I ran the 1/2 marathon for the second year in a row and while my time wasn't as good (3 minutes slower) as last year, I'm just glad I did it. Hopefully I won't be as lazy next year and will train better.
School starts up on Tuesday, the 18th. I'll have had exactly one whole month off from school and regular part-time work. Part of me has really enjoyed this time off and I know I'll never get it again, and the other part of me is just so ready to get back into a routine. I'll be taking rock climbing, a theater class devoted to the works of Alfred Hitchcock, an advanced Spanish grammar class and a journalism class plus my internship job and my other part-time job. So I'll be a little busy doing that and planning the wedding, but I'm sure things will be fine.
One last note, keep my sister in your prayers. We just found out yesterday that one of her friends from work committed suicide and wasn't a believer. I think she's doing alright, but keep her in your prayers and keep his family in your prayers as well--I don't believe they're believers either.
That's about it for me. :)

I'm not sure if anyone reads my blog anymore, but in case you do, you'd know I applied for the Pulliam Fellowship a while back. Well, I found out I didn't get it, which is fine because I know there's a reason for it--maybe a real job with benefits? We'll see.
Aside from that, I have to work on finishing my final FINAL draft of my In Depth story by Friday I guess. Fabulous, huh? Just when I thought that nightmare was over---(by the way, she gave me an "A" in the class). Oh well, almost done.
Hope y'all had a great Christmas. I'm enjoying my break--two more weeks of it, actually--and trying to get more wedding stuff done. We finally did some registering at two places: Bed Bath and Beyond and Robinsons-May, which is equivalent to other stores like Foley's I guess. I'm getting more excited as each day draws us closer to "the big one," but am constantly reminded (by my sort-of wedding planner called "Mom") that I'm way behind and slacking, I guess. But I'm trying and that's all that matters. There's a thing I've learned in journalism that applies across the board---people NEVER call you back when you need them to. So, that said, I have to remain positive and keep trusting that God's going to take care of it. I'll keep working, but trusting, not stressing, as I sometimes have a tendency to do.
With that said, whew, many things to do, but I'm going to go read now--books I want to read, not have to read.
Hasta!
Jen

Never giving up j.g 1/5/04

Torrential. Teeming.
I walk in its midst.
Pounding. Relentless.
I run with everything.
I can feel it overwhelming
Feel it rising up.
But I can't keep it from engulfing
From ensuing in each step.

Insecurity; my frailty
Charges after my forward steps
Repressing. Containing.
Attacking my weakness.
Weary, though I try
To rage against this machine of mine
My good-fortune-time is up
No more hubris amid the muck.
Still not there, no longer can I be
Nor fit the shape molded for me.
I turn to my hope, away from my humanity
Stirring something deep inside of me
My eyes blinded, my soul freed,
How I wish this would last, an infinite reprieve.
But my tightened fist around my friend called hope
Slips slightly with each and every reproach.
I'm here, caught up in an inner shell
Yearning for a reprieve from this nit-picky hell.
Never my way, no, just not good enough
Go on and tire the senses
Just never giving up.

In ten days I'll be running my 2nd half-marathon--13.2 (I believe) miles. It's a long run and so far I think I'm kinda ready. My longest run so far has been 8 miles, which is substantially lower than what it should be, but if I'm at least up to 10 before the day of the race, I should be fine. Anyway, it's strange because for the first time EVER I am seriously lacking in the motivation department when it comes to exercising. I don't know why, but for some reason I got really really lazy over the fall semester--maybe it was all the running around I was doing during the day, I don't know, but hopefully I can get it back on track. On top of that, I need to to lose the weight I've actually gained over the semester. I've maintained my weight well through college because of regular exercise and this semester has been so bad that I've actually gained. Yikes. What's more frightening is how easy it was to do!
Anyone else lacking motivation? Maybe we could start a club and inspire one another? Or like iron sharpens iron....?
Jen

Hey all!
I know I sent out a forwarded message to some of you that read my blog, but I thought I'd post this also. One of our cartoonists at my university's newspaper just won an award for his cartooning through MTVU. Most of his stuff is really funny--Farside-ish. So if you like that kinda stuff-you should check out his site.
http://www.fminus.net/

Later!

Wow, it's been a little while since I wrote a lengthy entry on here. I really missed doing this. It seems like the only writing I've been doing lately has been for school papers or journalism assignments. Don't get me wrong, I love the journalism assignments and the papers aren't too bad either, but after a while I feel like I just need to purge my thoughts, you know? It's not the same thing to talk to someone about it. So many thoughts and feelings; it's time for a late-night session. (Well, it's not that late--10:40 pm)
On Friday I'll be heading back down to Tucson to see one of my very best friends graduate from UA. She's not "technically" graduated yet because she'll take another class next semester to finish her degree and she'll be running track, but NCAA finals will be in California when she's supposed to graduate (same time I'll be getting married, so she won't be there, unfortunately). I'm really looking forward to going down there and visiting her--I miss her sooo much! On top of that, I have missed Tucson a lot and though I've been preocuppied with school and such, it's still been on my mind. Granted, my friend Lynn isn't down there anymore (she was the other intern) and now she's back at Drake University in Iowa. We still keep in touch, but my mind flashes back to nights on the town, chats in the newsroom, laying out on rafts in the pool for hours, talking non-stop for a while and then just dazing at the sky for the rest. Man, it truly was a spectacular summer. I miss the bread/sandwich place (Beyond Bread), home of the very best sandwiches on the planet. I miss the coffee shop that's a few miles away from the office, just south of downtown, where they'd make you whatever kind of coffee you wanted and if you didn't like it, they'd make you another one; free of charge. If you were short on cash, they'd give you the drink or whatever and keep a running tab; pay it when you return, they'd say. So great.
I just love everything about that experience, aside from the fact that I couldn't bring my church and friends down there with me. It was my own individual life; make up my own schedule, do what I wanted to do, go to bed when I wanted, get home when I wanted--answer to no one. Not half bad. But I have to say that it still wasn't home, which I've realized since is not actually a place. It's a feeling.
I no longer live in Gilbert, the place where I grew up, yet everytime I go back and smell the dairies nearby (yah, sounds gross, I know) or run in the park where my numerous cross country meets were held, it still feels like home.
While I was in Tucson, and I still remember this distinctly, I felt like, well, not completely there. I remember being at the bar with my friends on the last night and though I was sad about leaving, I missed home. More specifically, Obadiah.
Okay, so I'm cheesy, but I'm serious. I felt alone in a crowd and though my happiness is not contingent on his presence, it certainly feels more like home when he's there. I could move anywhere, at any time; as long as he's there with me, I'll be happy.

I'm sure you've had enough of that, so, long story short, I'm still excited about revisiting my "old" "haunts."

Other side of the wall 12/15/04

Every night at eleven, she bathes them
On the other side of the wall
Yells bouncing off of the ceiling and into my room.
I remember the time I heard her screaming
At two in the morning
In the same place she bathes them.
I was afraid
For her
and the kids.
I scribbled in my notebook
Cradling the cordless in my hand and
Pressed the on button
The sounds stopped
And resumed again the next night
All over again I heard her screaming.
Again I scribbled.

I haven't heard her scream since
Though the kids continue banging around
On the other side of the wall.

It was the latter part of May. Towels, clothes and hangers were strewn about my room and it was dark outside. I could hardly contain my excitement.
She picked up and I practically squealed into the phone like a giddy 12-year-old girl who received her first phone call from the boy she liked. He had proposed.
She was excited, asked me to recount every minute detail from beginning to end, so I did.
A flower brought in one, by one. Words, notes, kneeling...yes! Big hug, shaky legs.
How was her family doing? I asked.
Her father had finally found a great job, one he liked much better than his previous and afforded him enough money and time to fix up the backyard of their new house. He was constructing a waterfall and was excited about it, she told me.
Mom wasn't so happy about moving in the first place, but she was getting used to it. She'd found a job in a dental office like her old job, my friend said.
Finally, things were stabilizing.
It was the beginning of June when I got the e-mail: call immediately.
Though early on a Sunday morning, I grabbed the phone.
What was wrong? Was she okay? What had happened that she'd write such a short note?
Bravely, through exhausted words, she told me.
Her dad had died suddenly the morning after we spoke in the latter part of May. Literally twelve hours after our conversation.
I wanted to fly to her rescue; hug her and cry with her, for her.
Unfathomable. My superman-dad had almost met the same fate just about three years earlier, but had survived.
It wasn't his time.
Now I sat in stunned, shocked, shaken silence. What could I say, do?
I called my mom and for the first time since finding out, tears spilled out as the words followed suit.
I left that day with mixed feelings.
Feelings that still haven't ceased.
How do I comfort? What do I say?
I pray for them; my friend and her mother.
It's been 7 months full of firsts; first Father's Day without him. First Thanksgiving without him.
Now it will be the first Christmas.
Such a joyous time for so many, yet I can't help but think of people in situations such as those my friend is experiencing, will experience.
Soldiers won't return home from battle. Loved ones will yet again grieve another year without someone special who perished in 9/11. In Iraq. In Afghanistan. In the Pentagon. On the streets and in the home.
At this time of year, when my mind becomes bogged down by gift receipts, credit card bills and numerous holiday responsibilities, it's also a time to reflect on the freedoms I have, the time that I, as well as my loved ones have, and what I can do to love someone else.
I love my friend and her mother very much. There's nothing else in the world that I'd like more than to help them get through the season, but I know there's really not too much I can do except pray for their comfort and continue to be open to my friend to talk to. I wonder how many others are coping with this sense of helplessness and just the feeling of uselessness.

jr prayer 12/15/04

It's quiet Lord, outside
the darkness has settled over the
sun. And now I'm here thinking,
praying for someone.
I know she knew you at some time,
Even sought your direction and was
so close. Now she's struggling,
needing medication and doctor visits
just to get through the day.
You're there to heal the sick, the broken
and the bruised. You're there to comfort the hurting,
ease the pain of the abused.
Lord, come now, with your arms open-stretched
To hold each one that grieves, openly
Empty on this night, this day.
Remind them you would never give them
more than they can bear. That you desire
to bring them through their loss,
bring them through the nightmare.
I know You are here
and You are there.


(As I believe God said--'it is finished')

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Man, I have a headache. Stress and finals; crazy days. Oh my.
So that's me right now. More importantly, please pray for Obadiah. He's got a terrible TERRIBLE cold right now. He's had a massively sore throat, has felt sick to his stomach and just weak. He always goes to work, no matter how sick he feels, but this illness was bad enough. Anyway, he'll probably still be feeling rotten through the weekend, but keep him in your prayers. As for me, pray that my health continues to be good because I have three more class days, and several finals and papers. Almost there!
Anyhoo, more later.

So not all of my "to dos" have been finished yet, but many have. I turned in my Pulliam Journalism Fellowship papers and am psyched about that. Just a tad late, but the deadline was extended. I'm also very excited because yesterday I found out that I won a prize in a Hearst Journalism contest. Basically, journalism students from all over the nation submit entries into categories like "in depths," "breaking news," and "features." Mine was my Asperger's Syndrome story from last fall and it won 9th place out of 105 entries. I get a $500 scholarship from them and a $500 grant goes to my journalism school also. Pretty cool. But the coolest part is I found out that getting a Hearst award is the college equivalent of what a Pultizer is to a professional journalist. So it carries weight.
I called my journalism mentor soon after I found out and she said she wanted to e-mail the guy who hired me at the Republic and tell him the good news. So she did and he said he'd put the info in my file. According to my mentor, the Hearst is almost a better ticket into a job than even the Pulliam Fellowship. We'll see what happens, but that was pretty cool...
T-minus 24 hours until I dig into yummy turkey and mashed potatoes. How exciting is that? Okay, not so exciting, but it'll be good food. I'll be spending my first Thanksgiving away from my family and instead with Obadiah's. It should be pretty interesting.
We have a busy BUSY weekend ahead of us. So here's my "to do" list...

Thursday
1. 9 a.m- 10K race (Turkey Trot)--that's about 6 miles for the non-runner...
2. 1 p.m.- Thanksgiving begins in the West Valley with Obadiah's family

Friday
1. Morning-Time to figure out exactly where we're going to register for our wedding
2. Buy bridal shower gift for friend Annie
3. Noon- meet photographer for rescheduled photo session
4. 2 p.m.-scrapbook with Mom

Saturday
1. Paint the hallway in the house
2. 3-5 p.m.-Bridal Shower for friend
3. 8 p.m.-Deadline for SPM article

Sunday
Church
Homework?

Fun fun. But life will begin to wind down here soon, thankfully. Love y'all and Happy Thanksgiving! Say a prayer for our troops and thank our Lord for all the great things He's given us!

Ahh, the "to do" list-Sounds like fun (hah!). Everybody else is doing it, so I guess I will too...

1. Read "Antigona furiosa" (Spanish play)
2. Read critiques of Antigona furiosa (in Spanish)
3. Write Spanish paper on Antigona furiosa-due tomorrow (dang the on-line library for not having the info I needed in time!)
4. Call Cindi and organize time to have her and Ashley try on bridesmaid dresses
5. Read Chicano Studies book
6. Do Chicano Studies assignment for tomorrow
7. Study for Spanish test (which is tomorrow as well, of course)
8. Talk to cops for tips in upcoming article
9. Call the caterer and check on the table covers
10. Call Hannah (obie's sister) and see if I need to take over flower pot project
11. Find more sources for NAFTA article (due Monday)
12. Start Chicano Studies paper (due Tuesday)
13. Take Trevor to RE class
14. Go running
15. Copy articles for Pulliam Journalism Fellowship application
16. Find a picture of myself for same application and copy it
17. Get 3rd recommendation to send in with application
18. Send all materials
19. Check into what I'm going to do to make money over the break
20. Pay the rest of my Mexico trip money
21. Finalize guest list (find out who's planning on coming)
22. Order invitations
23. Make informal announcements for others?
24. Shop for engagement photo session clothes (Thursday)
25. Pick up wedding dress (Sunday)
26. Figure out wedding hair (more practice...)
27. Talk with Republic and figure out Spring internship info.
28. (Misc. things that are bound to come up unexpectedly...)

Oh how I love this weather!!! It's funny because yesterday I was at church and it was all cloudy outside and I could feel myself growing more hyper by the moment. I don't know if it had to do with the homemade frappaccino I was drinking or the fact that it was rainy, but I lean toward the weather factor, personally. It's great!
This morning I was reading in Habukkuk and I was also thinking about a conversation my dad and I had last week. The book talks about Mr. Hab and his vision and talking with God about using evil nation, Babylon to punish Judah (I think that's right) and how terrible the city is; conquering other nations for wealth and on and on. It's a little freaky to think that the U.S. could go down just the same... What would life be like not being on top.
Alrighty, I gotta get going. Lots to do--I have a big interview today for my cover story, a few other phone calls to make for my other stories and other fun homework things to do.