Reasons why I love journalists

Ok, I'll admit it. I have a thing for journalists. I don't know what it is, but something about a guy who spends his entire day researching and making phone calls to write a thousand word story about some small town government scandal that people will forget by next week just turns me on.

I love it when they find that exciting bit of information that brings their story together, and would rather spend the rest of their afternoon telling people about the story than actually writing it. And as always, I will gladly listen.

But it's not just that aspect of journalists that I love, but also the fact that journalists have a secret hidden code, or club even, where we all understand exactly why we act the way we do, why we choose to stay late at the office to write that mediocre story, because we all know our night either consists of a lonely glass of wine on the couch or another meeting we have to cover. We make jokes about grammar, throw in puns that only a reporter would know, and when all else fails, we bang our heads against the desk until our head stops hurting.

Today was one of those days where everything fell into place. I was finally realizing that in this 'real world' reporting job, I actually have the time to do proper research and call the people I need to call in a time-efficient manner. 

No stories were written today, but I got some sweet leads on a shopping complex and an insane asylum (can we say ghost hunt?) I'm sure no one reading this blog will actually care, but it's what I do every day. The real world isn't as glamourous as everyone thinks, but I'm sure it will get better. Just wait.

"Jump in! The Water's fine!"

Day one of my job began today, and holy shit do they throw you into the this job head first.

I mean, I show up at 10, expecting to sign some paperwork, get a tour of the newsroom, maybe decorate my desk a bit. But no, my editor wasn't in today, so I was handed a sheet of paper explaining how to log onto my new e-mail account, so then I could access a list of story ideas.

Welcome to the real world Kelleigh, we don't hold your hand. You already had four years of training, and now you have to show us what you learned. 

Now, this whole aspect was bit scary. It took me about an hour to build up the confidence to actually make a phone call (something I should have done within the first ten minutes). But I did it, I started getting accustomed to the area, outlined all the stories I wanted to write for this week's issue of the paper, and got to work.

Everything went smoothly until a reporter's nightmare began: no one was answering their phones, I mean NO ONE! On a typical day, I usually have to leave at least one message with a source, but they usually call me back within an hour or two. Instead, every person I called sent me straight to voicemail, and half of my day was spent doing background research for these mediocre stories that I may not even get published because my editor isn't even there to introduce me to the reporter I will be working with, and she or he may have already started working on the pieces I was planning on doing.

But by the end of the day I had it all figured out. Working for a newspaper, a real newspaper, is not a glamorous as the movies make it out to be. No, you don't spend your entire day running around chasing after one story. Instead, you have between five to eight stories a week that you need to write, and are required to produce that amount before your deadline. People don't always cooperate either, so half of your day is spent trying to get in contact with your sources while the other half is spent writing the 500 word article. By the end of the day you find yourself editing and re-editing your work in order to NOT look like an asshole, and hiding the fact that you've been Facebook chatting your friends since lunch. 

In the real world, you are required to produce a large quantity of articles, with some quality, and you have a lot of downtime. If I was still in college, that would be the time to sit and relax with a movie, or get a head start on my homework, but in the real world, you get paid for what you do during those hours, and with that you spend a lot of time twiddling your thumbs and waiting for something exciting to occur.

So be ready for it, because of everything college did for me, it never prepared me for the amount of downtime I would have. I think it's about time I get a hobby.

Employment......already?

Three weeks out of school and I have a job. 

WHAAAAAAT???

Apparently all of those reassuring comments that friends and family made about how "one out of four college grads are going to have jobs right after college" and Scully constantly telling me that because it's intern season I won't get a job until September, were all wrong. I am the exception. I have a job, with a salary and benefits!

The crazy thing is, everything seems to be coming together. My life is actually starting. I'm writing for two papers, one full time the other part time, I'm making money, and I'm doing something I love. This is going to work, I'm going to be ok. 

All of those thoughts of dying in a box, never having a job, failing at life, are gone. I haven't failed, I won't disappear into nothing and be forgotten. I know I've been hard on myself for the past few weeks, and lord knows I punished myself by not going out on the weekends, but it's paid off. Life is starting, and I can't wait. It's going to be amazing, i'm going to be a reporter, I'm going to be doing what I love. 

I'm a new person, I'm ready to start my life, and this really marks it. I'm on my way to a new future, and one day I will be a travel writer, I will publish books, I will travel. I can't wait.

My New Best Friend

http://www.stumbleupon.com/su/72e5Ih/moneyning.com/video/coupon-lady-money-saving-madness/

Click on the link, and check this out. This woman is my new hero. Not only should we be best friends, but she needs to teach me the art of coupon clipping, it could really save my butt in the future when I'm a poor graduate.

Man, that was fast.

Mere hours following my last post, God answered my prayers. Maybe it was my plea in the shower, or my desperate attempt to destress through yoga, or possibly the silent wish made at 11:11, but I officially have an interview.

Cue overly excited cat.

So everything is moving forward again. This is exciting, I'm nervous, because now I have to prove to this newspaper why I am their girl. But if I get the job, this means moving to Boston, with lots of friends, and starting my life! O boy, I can't wait.

So when can I use my karma chips?

Dear Life,

I am writing in regards to your mandatory movement forward, and your demand for me to get a job. Although college was a great experience, I fully understand that good things must come to an end, and that we all must grow up. However, I would like to point out that although you have thrown me into a position where I must get a job to survive, it is almost impossible to actually get one. I am inquiring a break, if possible, some sort of divine intervention to give me the kick start I need to move on in my life.

Much appreciated,

Kelleigh

Yup, this real world thing is killing me. I want a job, and lord knows I've been searching for one, but the truth is no one is hiring! Either that, or every writing position involves a minimum of five years experience something I do NOT have. And clearly, that is not my fault, because if i could have five years experience, I would. i would have just had to either been born earlier, or skipped out on the college thing.

I'm going crazy here at home. Don't get me wrong, I love my family, they are some of the most wonderful people in my life, but I need my own place, I need my own routine, i need to be out on my own.

What frustrates me is that I have nothing to do. Last week I spent half of my graduation money buying outfits for job interviews (and I still have yet to wear them.) I need a hobby, something to do that is not only cheap, but time consuming and rewarding. The yoga thing is getting better. I managed to complete a full 60 minute work out with little space out moments and only minor discomfort from my lack of flexibility. 

My mom suggested I decoupage a table with all my photos. So that may be my project for next week: find a table and decorate it. But then what? Maybe I'll decoupage my entire room. Maybe I'll take a class. I've always wanted to learn how to fence, or play guitar. I could finally use my free six weeks of guitar lessons I got when my parents bought me a guitar at 16. Maybe I'll apply for a part time job. I need money, and writing for the Landmark is more career-oriented, but at $36 an hour it doesn't pay the bills. I'm sure I could get a job at a deli again. Or waitress. 

I'm rambling, my apologies. This is just so frustrating. I've been gone a week and some change, and I feel like I've failed because I don't have a job yet. I hate this. But maybe this struggle will build character. Maybe this is part of the plan, of how I will rise to become a famous writer. Or maybe I'm destined to work a million jobs for little to no pay. 

I have the karma chips saved up for something good to happen, so let's cash them in.

Yoga is not as easy as it looks.....

The majority of the books I read and enjoy for pleasure, are typically stories about women breaking from the norm and going out into the world to find themselves. My favorite book of all time is She's Come Undone, by Wally Lamb, which in my spare time I've been reading again. 

Last summer, I read Eat, Pray, Love, which featured three sections about three countries the writer visited to find herself. One of the main themes, was yoga, and the art of calming your mind. Now, for people who know me, they know that I can't stay quiet, and I can't calm myself, which may be a burden in my own life story. 

So, I dug up my old yoga book and DVD (which I had purchased back in 2008 when I went through a "I want to be a hippie" stage) and started a hopefully daily routine. I chose a wake-up routine, which wasn't as bad as expected. I did, however, learn that I am not only out of shape, but my flexibility is close to nothing. I can't even touch my elbows to the ground while sitting. Pathetic. So, goal number one for my new-found hobby: Become more flexible.

Because the first exercise was not very long in comparison to other workouts, I selected a short breathing exercise to work on. This was one of the hardest things I've had to do. It was not that the exercises were challenging, or that I didn't understand the purpose of what I was doing, but instead it took every bit of my energy to keep my mind from wandering. As I was being told to listen and concentrate on the rise and fall of my chest as I breathed, I was thinking about what jobs I should be applying for. What part of the country would I want to live in, or maybe I should blog about my routines daily, keep a record. I was also thinking about other lifestyle changes, getting out of my house in general, my upcoming events, whatever. To be short, I thought about everything EXCEPT my breathing. So goal number two: Learn to calm my mind and clear my head.

Following these exercises, my legs felt like jello. Clearly I still have a lot of work to do. But, one of the benefits is after spending your morning following this practice, you suddenly want to change other parts of your lifestyle. So instead of skipping breakfast, I ate a peach, and switched from coffee to tea. Hopefully the combination of the three will keep me more awake and alert throughout my day, and give me the energy I need.

My book says yoga is journey. It is not meant to be something you can master in a day, and every person has a different experience. So, naturally, I feel my journey is going to be hilarious. 

Peace.

Gaga