Lights, camera. . . no wait. . .

So tonight marks the second time that the paper has trusted me out in the world with one of its cameras. The first time was when I was sent to cover a tribute dinner hosted by the Elks at the Eagles lodge. . . or was it hosted by the Eagles at the American Legion. . . or was it. . . (I had to go to a couple of places before I got the right one). But anyway, one of those organizations that tend to have fish fries and BBQ nights was having a dinner to honor a nearby volleyball team that won the state finals. So my boss thought that it would be a good opportunity for me to get my feet wet with the camera because people sitting around tables are a lot easier to photograph than are people participating in any sort of athletic endeavour. But yeah, my pictures were crap, nothing was published.

Tonight? Um. . . I took the first picture. Then when I looked at the display to see if I had gotten a good shot, over the preview picture was the text "No (something something) Card." Damnit! I had a camera but no memory card. And driving twenty minutes through the gusty snow to get the card and then driving another twenty minutes to get back to the game was not an option. However, even though none of the pictures were going to be saved, the camera still displayed a preview of the most recent shot taken. So I did get some practice in.

I wanted to make this a long, entertaining post. But I've grown tired before making it long or entertaining. But it is a post. So one out of three. That's a good batting average.

I'm grateful for "To Kill a Mockingbird" (20).

Here I am

Rock you like a hurrican. . . Yeah. I know. I know. But let's just pretend like I didn't totally punk out for the past couple of months and get down to business.

I'm still working part time, writing sports stories for the local paper. I have been getting more hours lately, and they finally gave me a key. But the hours are still nowhere near enough to live off of, and they didn't give me the password to the security system so I can really only use the key when there are people there. But you know, it's progress.

For the most part, the events I'm sent to are the ones that the boss doesn't want to go to. So I'm usually writing stories about blowouts or about competitive cheer meets (I may write about cheerleading at a later date). Occassionally, I'll get lucky, and two bad teams will face off, and I'll get to see a close game. But most of the time I consider any game that ends with fewer than twenty points between the teams to be a closely contested battle. But still, I'm enjoying it. I'm learning a bit more each time out, and I like everyone I've worked with both at the paper and at the schools we cover. I've actually started to get to the point where people in the local sports circle are recognizing me. Of course, half of them think I'm a talent scout. But you know, baby steps. . .

Speaking of baby steps. . . I'm pretty sure that's what this is. Instead of a bigass post filling in the past two monthes, I'm going to give you guys a bunch of melt-in-your-mouth-not-in-your-hand-sized chunks. If you chouldn't tell, this was the first chunk. . .

I'm glad to be back (20).

cheater

I looked around the Internet to find something to blog about tonight because the things I'm doing are not especially interesting to read or write. In my search for the magic post maker, I found a site called Word Beads on Sentence Strings. Basically, the site challenges visitors to string together five given words and any other words to form sentences, paragraphs, limericks, homilies, manifestos, etc., etc. etc. I figured that sounded like a fun way to manufacture a post, so here we are. And here it goes:

I'm playing this game in which I'm supposed to write something using the words stratospheric, empirical, grief, see, and uncommitted.

That wasn't as difficult as I had expected.

I'm grateful for the Mythbusters, who just concluded that it's plausible that elephants are at least somewhat uncomfortable around mice if not scared of them (20).

I did stuff!!!

Okay, not much. But I did do stuff. I finally got in touch with the school and was able to fill out the re-admission application. I think I got things right. But I'm not positive. The form wanted me to pick a major. But I'm not really going to have a major. I'm just going to be working toward a couple of certificates. So I picked the major that matched one of the certificates. I figure that once I get admitted I can then worry about changing things with an advisor.

I wrote a bunch today. . . I guess that's all I have to say about that.

I looked up possible summer jobs/internships because I doubt the paper will have much for me to do during the summer because most of the area sports aren't especially active during that time.

I'm grateful for Whose Line Is It Anyway?, even if they are all reruns now (20).

Spooky

Okay. This is weird. I'm missed a call tonight and didn't recognize the number. So I called it to see who it was and what they wanted. The person I spoke with guessed that maybe it was a wrong number because nobody there had tried to call me. But here's the weird thing. I recognized the last name the woman gave me. It was the same last name as one of the coaches I was unable to get in touch with for work last week. It turns out the person I was talking to was his cousin, who assured me that he did not try to contact me from that number.

I feel the need to spout some platitude about our tiny little planet or interconnectivity or even probablity, but I think we'll all be better off if I just leave it at 'That's weird.'

I'm grateful for our tiny little planet (20).

Clear away the cobwebs. . .

It seems that it's hard for a procrastinator not to procrastinate. Today, I was supposed to start taking care of a few of the things that I should've taken care of by now. But a little bit of sick is still clinging to my throat and lungs, and that was enough for me to go all Little Orphan Annie and start singing about Tomorrow again. Today, I'm not that sick. If I had something already scheduled, I'm nowhere near sick enough that I would have cancelled it. But for some reason, this hint of sick was all I needed to not call about apartments or about school (I never did get a response from the email I sent) or about my work schedule for the week. Apparently a tickley throat and a stuffy nose are also too much to endure writing through. One more day wasted. One less day to do something.

I'm grateful for cream of wheat with raisins (20).

Today in brief

cough
damnit
coughcough
damnit
"mumblemumblemumble"
I'm supposed to meet the baby today
coughcoughcoughcough
fuck, I'm sick
damnit
sleep
tv
sleep
tv
it's too cold
sleep
it's too hot
Do you need a bucket?
tv
tv
tv
shower
tv

By the looks of today, I must be pretty grateful for TV (20).