Thursday, August 20, 2009

Indian Encounter

When I moved in this year, I knew we had new neighbors. They are Indian, and there were two of them, before I found out there were four. Our apartment is small. In fact, I can barely fit in my room on my own. They are sharing two to a room! I suppose that is pretty good living compared to how they might've lived in India? Sadly, I do not know a lot about Indian culture.

Anyway, all four of them knocked on our door earlier today -- yes, all four. They invited us to a birthday "party" they were throwing tonight for one of them. Jenna was nice about it and said we might stop by later, but it was not a yes.

Then, a few hours later, Jenna, Allie, and I were watching TV, and we were expecting one more friend to come over. There was a knock at the door, and we thought it was Sarah so we opened the door. It was two of our neighbors. "Oh..."

They told us that dinner was ready... and that they made some just for us. "Oh..." We tried to turn them down easily, as we had already eaten, but they were so adamant about us coming over that we decided (the three of us) to go over for a few minutes to be polite.

We went in, met all 4 of them, and quickly went into the kitchen were they introduced us to all the different Indian foods. It was my first time ever having Indian food, so it was kind of cool. But as we got our food, it got so awkward.They didn't eat. We tried to ask questions between bites, but when we got our answers it went silent for a minute and they'd just stare at us as we ate. SO AWKWARD!

When we finished, we tried to quickly but politely leave. They said they had more friends coming so we wanted to go. Once the door shut we all looked at each other in somewhat disbelief and embarrassment. Yikes.

That was my very awkward night. I hope we aren't invited again, honestly. I don't know if it is custom to invite neighbors to dinner or wait while guests are eating, but it was too awkward. They were nice enough, but I don't do well in those kinds of situations. Eeep.
Feeling kind of down today. I have been feeling "off" all day in fact. This morning, I woke up in a crummy mood and even now, I feel like I just want to laze around. I'm not sure what it is, then again, I feel like I have an idea.

I don't have much else to post right now.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Contemplating my major

I forgot to mention in my last post that after I left Fink's class, I felt worried. I believe I went through this last year, but I think the feeling is stronger this time around.

Fink is a newspaper man. A real go-getter. A man who rules in absolutes. He wants us to learn his ways and how to go about managing a newspaper. This is all well and good, but I do not give a damn about newspapers. I have no passion for it like he does. If put in his position, I would probably fail any paper I'm in charge of. I'm sure with enough experience under my belt, I could be a good manager. But this is not what I wish for my life.

I am not a hard-ass news reporter. I believe that there is always more than one way to look at something, and that is just not his style, so he says. I am not about hard news facts, retail trading zone and advertising dollars. I love reading; stories, characters, plots, and symbolism; writing my thoughts; writing about the world, moral issues, spiritual issues; I love photography and art; I love being creative.

I can't stand the structured business of the inverted pyramid structure, the constraints of journalistic writing. I dislike interviewing people I don't know or don't care for. I told my English professor that I don't like journalism and she asked me why I'm majoring in it.

Good question. It's a way to get paid for writing. I do like writing, but I want to be freer than those journalists at the AJC. With what I am learning, I could very well write for a magazine. I could become an editor at a paper, a magazine, or better -- a publication house. My major is like an umbrella. It covers a lot of careers that I could pick from. That is why I am a publication management major. I have the choice to be a writer or a top editor if I so choose.

I have waited so long to do what I love in college. I've taken many pointless classes like anthropology or public speaking. I'm finally taking my major's classes. But in order to be happy and get what I NEED for my future career, I'm taking English courses. You may be thinking, "English? You're crazy!" Yes, it is a lot of reading and critical thinking, but I enjoy it. I used to loathe going to English in high school, where we'd have to sit in a circle and speak 3 times to get a passing grade. But over the years I have grown fond of reading stories, meeting new characters, and learning what authors mean through their work. I also figure that the more I read, the better writer I will become.

I think I just needed to help myself understand why I am where I am. I think I needed to express my frustration with my journalism education and reestablish who I am. I am not like the other J-school kids who work at the school newspaper every day and are ready with pen and paper at every event. Sometimes I wish I was, but that's not me.

Monday, August 17, 2009

First Day of School

As expected, my first day back to UGA grew butterflies in my stomach and doubt in my mind. As I am getting closer to my graduation date, my classes are getting harder and more demanding.

Luckily, my first class I had today did not seem like it would end my social life (if I have one). There will be a lot of reading as it is Intro to Fiction. We will be studying what comprises fiction and why stories are the way they are. I am really looking forward to reading the different stories we'll be assigned and getting to know the art of fiction better. I have another English class which will be purely fiction from 1890 and up. That will be good too. Lots of reading though.

Once I got that class over with, I felt a little better. I actually know a girl in that class. We met last Friday at a Pancake party. She's super nice, so hopefully I can sit next to her next time. She introduced me to her friend who also knows my roommate and her best friend. Connections. :]

With everything going well, I headed to the dreaded Mr. Fink. Top journalist, AP. My butterflies started churning on the walk there; it felt like someone had lit them all on fire and they were dying a hot, flamey death.

I was surprised to see that most of the students in my Publication management class were female. A little disappointed too. But anyway... when I sat down it felt like I had never left for a whole summer. There he was in all of his glory -- full bushy eyebrows and balding head, Mr. Fink was in tip-top shape. What had happened last year, came back to haunt me. When I introduced myself to the class, he caught me and told me to speak up again. I might've died a little inside. As I tried to raise my voice and continue, he kept speaking so I was interrupted a few times. I pretty much gave up and told him what I plan on doing after I graduate, quickly. My eyes got watery a few minutes later because, again, I had done what I always do. Always the quiet one. But enough about that. He will know my awesomeness through my work.

After school, Jenna and I went kickboxing. It is "free fitness class" week at Ramsey and so we tried it. I was very unsure about it because I had never tried it before and I knew it would be rigorous. I was right, it was. But it was so much fun!! I was literally punching and kicking with ease but oh did it burn. I sweat a lot. I know that's gross, but you know you're getting a good work out when you do. It's a little expensive, but I'm going to work hard to pay for it.

On Wednesday, UGA is hosting a part-time job fair. I am going to go to it and seek a job. If I don't find anything, I will apply at Target and hopefully work about 3-4 days a week, mostly mornings I hope. I need money!!

I guess I got everything off my chest that I wanted to, so now I'm going to do some reading. Peace.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Heart v. Head

I'm not going to make a long post. I just wanted to say that my mind and my heart are always at opposites. My mind, usually logical, knows what I need to do - what I should do. My heart ignores the important warnings and goes ahead and wants things it cannot and should not have. When these two collide, it's a major disaster stirring in my body. It's like the scene in Sleeping Beauty where the pink fairy and the blue fairy have a fight with their colors. Pink and blue clash together, one pushing the other back; blue overtaking the pink then quickly the pink overtaking the blue until they explode all over the house making a horrific mess. Then I'm left trying to sort out which color belongs where.

No one expects the pain of realizing you've just made a complete mess of things.