I've been in school for about a month now and honestly...I'm ready to be done. I was excited for these journalism classes, but the initial giddiness has long past worn off. In fact, I'm just tired. The only thing I'm still slightly stoked about is the book I'm writing in my independent study class. Other than that...I've never been so behind in homework. Now that John is going back to school and I get every Tuesday and Thursday to myself at home, I should be able to relax a little and get some work done. Finally. It helps that we are just down to Doreen. I'm going to be calling to ship my baby Monte Carlo off for junk soon. I find my heart breaking.
I've had my Monte since I was 15. My dad bought her for me as an Easter present (honestly, I think he was just looking for a holiday excuse that was most convenient). He had to put a number of hours into her to get her running smooth, and there was that electrical problem that took four years to figure out...my first car was just as temperamental as the teenager driving her. And she still is. That electrical problem only occurred during the summer (when I was working McD's and at my most volatile), and only seemed to cure itself when my dad came around (much like my moods--my dad has always been and will forever be my best friend). When we finally fixed that (just before I moved to Savannah), the air conditioning broke. Of course, the ride south became steadily more uncomfortable, but she kept chugging along, nonetheless.
Then, just a couple of weeks ago, our Fiat's rear window was smashed out by an angry homeless guy. We drove my baby for one day, and I had just named her "ol' faithful," when she died. We called my favorite mechanic to see if we could save her (not just out of nostalgia, we really need two cars), but he declared her unfit to drive.
"I could spend the whole afternoon fixing her, but I still wouldn't let my own daughter get in that thing," he warned. He wasn't even able to jack her off the ground, she was so rusted through that her frame deteriorated every time he tried to boost her up. "You're from the North, I'm from the North, we both know this was bound to happen." He was incredibly sympathetic.
My dad taught me how to drive in Monte. I had my first, very awkward, kiss in that car. Monte Python's "Always look on the bright side of life" was playing when my crush went for it. Talk about lack of romance. A deer hit me in that car (seriously, it hit me. It came running out of a field and somersaulted over the hood of Monte, the ass cheek of the deer is permanently imprinted). I went on my first, incredibly nerve wracking date with John (I was determined to have some kind of control in the situation, and she was a comfortable old shoe) in that car. And I drove from Minnesota to Georgia in my green, mean, accelerating machine. I screamed and cried in the traffic through Atlanta, I shrunk in fear going through my first ghetto.
But she's kept me alive for 6 years. Her lack of electric locks was charming, the not knowing if the windows would roll back up was all part of the fun. When I saw the odometer clock past the 200,000 mark somewhere in Tennessee, I knew we were living on borrowed time. What with the Jeep gone too, I'm reluctant to let go. I just want her to work again. She's my last big, fat reminder of 'home.' My dad's signature is all over that rusted beast, and so are the signs of my teen years. As cliche as this sounds, all I'm going to have left are memories.
I've had so many life-changing moments in that car, I'm just not ready to give her up yet. Unfortunately our checking account is telling me otherwise. I wonder, if my car could talk to me, what she would say about my life so far. She's literally seen it all.
Monday, September 16, 2013
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
Disconnecting
There has been a lot going on in the news lately. Everything from the Snowden leaks about the NSA data gathering across the world to one of my favorite soccer players returning to play in the US (Clint Dempsey). All signs point to some serious issues with our nation and her people and yet...
All I can think about is what I'm going to do when I graduate (hopefully this Spring). A part of me wants to disconnect for a while: delete my Facebook and Twitter accounts, and move to the mountains (this Savannah heat is absolutely killing me). My sister-in-law in Ellijay, GA made us partial owners in their coffee shop. If they get that up and running, I could get paid to make coffee and read books all day. My husband and I even talked about selling everything, buying a sail boat, and living a nomadic life for a while. What about graduate school? What about school loans? What about a job? I just don't know.
After high school, I knew exactly where I was going and what I was going to do. It was pretty easy. I had grown up with parents that strongly believed in receiving some form of secondary education. From the time I was in preschool, I knew I would be getting at least a bachelor degree someday. So what do I do, now that that moment is so close? The economy suggests that it will take a miracle to get a career (not a job) right out of college, so should I jump into finding my master's degree? Will that help my future prospects of landing on the right career?
That was the plan. Until I burned out. Honestly, I'm not sure how much more of school I can take. Don't get me wrong-- I love learning. I just spent this whole summer studying the history of Savannah, Georgia, just so I could get my tour guide permit to tell strangers how awesome this city is.
I'm frustrated with the institution of it all. I've had few good teachers since starting the university path in 2010, which doesn't really encourage much faith that I'll find better ones at yet another school, pursuing yet another degree. I've already started the extensive research that goes into finding the right master's program (or several, since you really shouldn't put all your eggs in one basket), but there are so many more schools I haven't looked at yet. It's exhausting. I'm exhausted.
My next concern is this: I just spent a whole summer outside driving horses, talking about history. Every day, I felt my skin crinkle as I experienced sun burn (for the first time in years), felt sweat drip from areas I didn't realize could sweat. I even enjoyed the weeks of rain--my callused fingers sliding on the thick plastic lines, barely keeping hold of the horses when they toss their heads as thunder cracked in the sky. Yelling over the roar of trollies, the honking of speeding cars; my voice seems permanently husky now. I came back to my video production job on Monday, and I realized...I hate being in a silent, cramped, dimly lit room. Maybe it is because I feel like I'm not learning while I'm there. I was engaged this summer, learning tour routes and the history of Savannah actively. I've got my history tour down so well that I'm going to start researching other tour routes so I don't get bored, giving the same tour over and over again. I hope that by the end of this year, I'll have downtown Savannah etched into my brain.
Yet I realize, I can't be a carriage driver forever. I work with people who have literally been doing this job for over a decade, and they are burned out. The money is good and the hours are convenient enough that it's hard for some of them to leave. So what about this job specifically appeals to me? Weirdly enough, this goes against my introverted self but...I think I love interacting with the people. Yes, it is tiring to put on a show for tourists up to six times a day, sometimes with a horse that is on the brink of a wild stallion-esq frenzy, but I love it. I've met people from all over the world, most of them with interesting things to say. I do have bad tours now and then--maybe they want to hear more jokes or more about the film industry in Savannah (like about Forrest Gump being filmed here), but I'm telling them about the city history because I think it's funnier. Maybe they want a ghost tour. My ghost tours are horrendous, I won't lie. But the majority of my day is spent talking to people who are either riveted by what I have to say, or will educate me because they are natives, finally exploring the tourist attractions of their city. And even though I seem to have grown up without the love of horses that most women seem genetically predisposed, I have come to love some of those buggers. They all have their own characters; the good and the bad. My favorite horse, Murphy, dances on his way home. I didn't even know horses could do that.
I think it's safe to say that I've learned more this summer than I have in the last year and a half at school. This is the first job I've ever had that feels more like a trade, and I love it.
Fortunately, I just found out that my Creative Writing class, which is independent study, will be forcing me into finally writing something extensive. My professor wants either a full chapter of a novel (30-50 pages) or a full short story by the end of the semester. That will help with the portfolio I'll have to provide for a master's program, if I do go that route. Who knows, maybe I will even get it published. Now I just have to think up a plot. My synopsis is due next week.
All I can think about is what I'm going to do when I graduate (hopefully this Spring). A part of me wants to disconnect for a while: delete my Facebook and Twitter accounts, and move to the mountains (this Savannah heat is absolutely killing me). My sister-in-law in Ellijay, GA made us partial owners in their coffee shop. If they get that up and running, I could get paid to make coffee and read books all day. My husband and I even talked about selling everything, buying a sail boat, and living a nomadic life for a while. What about graduate school? What about school loans? What about a job? I just don't know.
After high school, I knew exactly where I was going and what I was going to do. It was pretty easy. I had grown up with parents that strongly believed in receiving some form of secondary education. From the time I was in preschool, I knew I would be getting at least a bachelor degree someday. So what do I do, now that that moment is so close? The economy suggests that it will take a miracle to get a career (not a job) right out of college, so should I jump into finding my master's degree? Will that help my future prospects of landing on the right career?
That was the plan. Until I burned out. Honestly, I'm not sure how much more of school I can take. Don't get me wrong-- I love learning. I just spent this whole summer studying the history of Savannah, Georgia, just so I could get my tour guide permit to tell strangers how awesome this city is.
I'm frustrated with the institution of it all. I've had few good teachers since starting the university path in 2010, which doesn't really encourage much faith that I'll find better ones at yet another school, pursuing yet another degree. I've already started the extensive research that goes into finding the right master's program (or several, since you really shouldn't put all your eggs in one basket), but there are so many more schools I haven't looked at yet. It's exhausting. I'm exhausted.
My next concern is this: I just spent a whole summer outside driving horses, talking about history. Every day, I felt my skin crinkle as I experienced sun burn (for the first time in years), felt sweat drip from areas I didn't realize could sweat. I even enjoyed the weeks of rain--my callused fingers sliding on the thick plastic lines, barely keeping hold of the horses when they toss their heads as thunder cracked in the sky. Yelling over the roar of trollies, the honking of speeding cars; my voice seems permanently husky now. I came back to my video production job on Monday, and I realized...I hate being in a silent, cramped, dimly lit room. Maybe it is because I feel like I'm not learning while I'm there. I was engaged this summer, learning tour routes and the history of Savannah actively. I've got my history tour down so well that I'm going to start researching other tour routes so I don't get bored, giving the same tour over and over again. I hope that by the end of this year, I'll have downtown Savannah etched into my brain.
Yet I realize, I can't be a carriage driver forever. I work with people who have literally been doing this job for over a decade, and they are burned out. The money is good and the hours are convenient enough that it's hard for some of them to leave. So what about this job specifically appeals to me? Weirdly enough, this goes against my introverted self but...I think I love interacting with the people. Yes, it is tiring to put on a show for tourists up to six times a day, sometimes with a horse that is on the brink of a wild stallion-esq frenzy, but I love it. I've met people from all over the world, most of them with interesting things to say. I do have bad tours now and then--maybe they want to hear more jokes or more about the film industry in Savannah (like about Forrest Gump being filmed here), but I'm telling them about the city history because I think it's funnier. Maybe they want a ghost tour. My ghost tours are horrendous, I won't lie. But the majority of my day is spent talking to people who are either riveted by what I have to say, or will educate me because they are natives, finally exploring the tourist attractions of their city. And even though I seem to have grown up without the love of horses that most women seem genetically predisposed, I have come to love some of those buggers. They all have their own characters; the good and the bad. My favorite horse, Murphy, dances on his way home. I didn't even know horses could do that.
I think it's safe to say that I've learned more this summer than I have in the last year and a half at school. This is the first job I've ever had that feels more like a trade, and I love it.
Fortunately, I just found out that my Creative Writing class, which is independent study, will be forcing me into finally writing something extensive. My professor wants either a full chapter of a novel (30-50 pages) or a full short story by the end of the semester. That will help with the portfolio I'll have to provide for a master's program, if I do go that route. Who knows, maybe I will even get it published. Now I just have to think up a plot. My synopsis is due next week.
Friday, July 12, 2013
Is the American Experiment Over?
I'm scared. In fact, I'm terrified. There are those, like my dad, who say I'm over reacting. That our nation, the United States of America, is just going through some hard times--we will surely recover. My husband has put into words his thoughts on the matter, which I believe is definitely worth the read.
Every day I read about the threats our country's making, the deals they're striking, just to try and arrest the whistle-blower, Edward Snowden. I hope you all have been following these developments, because I think that this is a great example of how far we have fallen. One note in particular: China is asking the US to reconsider it's treatment of human rights activists--for the second time. Anyone remember Bradley Manning?
I remember Obama's first campaign. I remember watching a speech he made while sitting in high school. He promised transperancy, promised a health care system that would include everyone at no cost to Mr. and Mrs. Taxpayer.
Ha.
By next year, my husband and I will be scrambling to come up with the $500 fee (each) we will have to pay to get out of paying for full health care coverage. That $1000 will be cheaper than paying for the health care itself. More than anything, I'm scared that I won't be able to find a job. Or that my employer, a tiny carriage company, won't be able to keep me on. The idea of health care for everyone is definitely appealing, and I am all for it. Until it starts forcing company owners to stop hiring--even Walmart said they would stop employing people permanently just to get out of paying for health benefits. The prospect of being homeless is something I've had to face a few times in the last year, and I know there will be more of that to come in the future, especially if the job market gets any more competitive. I wonder if anyone running our country has ever felt that way.
And now we hear about the US spying not only in our backyards (and our computers), but all over the world, and that in order to be safe, we must sacrifice our liberties. Ben Franklin disagrees; "They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety." The US is alienating its own citizens, and the allies we have left in the world.
I don't want this to be an Obama hate-blog, because as much as I dislike him, he isn't the one to start it. But he sure isn't finishing it. What scares me is this: not being able to defend myself if, like Thomas Jefferson suggested, people decide it is time to 'water the tree of liberty.' What really scares me though, is if we, the people, decide that we'd rather just go back to watching Jersey Shore.
Every day I read about the threats our country's making, the deals they're striking, just to try and arrest the whistle-blower, Edward Snowden. I hope you all have been following these developments, because I think that this is a great example of how far we have fallen. One note in particular: China is asking the US to reconsider it's treatment of human rights activists--for the second time. Anyone remember Bradley Manning?
I remember Obama's first campaign. I remember watching a speech he made while sitting in high school. He promised transperancy, promised a health care system that would include everyone at no cost to Mr. and Mrs. Taxpayer.
Ha.
By next year, my husband and I will be scrambling to come up with the $500 fee (each) we will have to pay to get out of paying for full health care coverage. That $1000 will be cheaper than paying for the health care itself. More than anything, I'm scared that I won't be able to find a job. Or that my employer, a tiny carriage company, won't be able to keep me on. The idea of health care for everyone is definitely appealing, and I am all for it. Until it starts forcing company owners to stop hiring--even Walmart said they would stop employing people permanently just to get out of paying for health benefits. The prospect of being homeless is something I've had to face a few times in the last year, and I know there will be more of that to come in the future, especially if the job market gets any more competitive. I wonder if anyone running our country has ever felt that way.
And now we hear about the US spying not only in our backyards (and our computers), but all over the world, and that in order to be safe, we must sacrifice our liberties. Ben Franklin disagrees; "They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety." The US is alienating its own citizens, and the allies we have left in the world.
I don't want this to be an Obama hate-blog, because as much as I dislike him, he isn't the one to start it. But he sure isn't finishing it. What scares me is this: not being able to defend myself if, like Thomas Jefferson suggested, people decide it is time to 'water the tree of liberty.' What really scares me though, is if we, the people, decide that we'd rather just go back to watching Jersey Shore.
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