• I bought myself a digital recorder this weekend. After years of carrying around a tape recorder, I thought it was time to switch to better technology. I’m in love with it. I took it with my to interview volunteer workers who were at a phone bank for the Obama campaign. If I ever record any super interesting interviews, I might put them up as podcasts.
• I can’t believe Halloween is this Friday. Where did this year go? Most importantly, what will I dress up as this year? I have a couple of ideas, actually.
• In continuing with my trend of upgrading technology, I’m in the market for a Nikon D40 and an external hard drive. I’ll most probably buy the D40 sometime this week. After years of trying to take good photos with my point and shoot Canon, this will be a nice change.
• I came across some “Yes on Prop. 8″ protesters near my house this weekend. Proposition 8, which is on the California ballot come Nov. 4, is basically proposing an amendment to the state’s constitution in order to ban gay marriage. As I was passing them by, I shook my head and them and yelled at NO. Of course, they were all above the age of 30 and had nothing better to do with their Saturday afternoons than protest someone else’s right to marriage. These people really make my stomach turn
• I wish I had the time and energy to decorate the outside of the house for Halloween, and make caramel apples and spooky desserts. Maybe when I have kids.
• I have been dying to go to Anthropologie for some much needed shopping for weeks. But I’m resisting. I’m resisting with all my heart, because I’ve got credit cards to pay off and bills. I will resist. I am going to resist.
• I would love to go apple picking, or any fruit picking really. Strawberries, especially. I’d love to bake an apple pie with apples I picked. Apple pie from scratch, even the crust. Can you think of anything better? Sometimes, I think I was Amish in another life. I’d bake my own bread if I could.

If you watch or read the news, you know by now that there are many countries around the world to this day that do not honor the notion of freedom of speech. It is a routine occurrence for journalists to be arrested, kidnapped, jailed and tortured while doing their jobs. Unfortunately, even though we are living in modern times, not all countries have adapted to the notion of the freedom of press.

Last week, I came upon some very disturbing and disheartening news. Esha Momeni, a graduate student who was doing research for her thesis on the Iranian women’s movement was arrested and jailed in the Evin prison run by the Ministry of Intelligence in Iran. Esha was enrolled in the School of Communication, Media and Arts, from my alma mater, California State University, Northridge.

Perhaps if she had attended any other school, or if she was arrested in any other country, it wouldn’t have compelled me to write a blog entry. But this wasn’t the case. She very well could have been me. Many of her professors were my professors, most of her interests are probably my interests and her country of origin and arrest is where I was born.

On Oct. 15, Esha was stopped on suspicion of a traffic offense. The people who stopped her identified themselves as undercover police officers. She was taken to her parents’ home, where they seized her laptop and footage of interviews she had conducted. She was then arrested and taken to prison.

Evin prison, where she is being held, is known for its political prisoners wing. It’s also known for executions and torture. In 2003, Iranian-Canadian photojournalist Zahra Kazemi was arrested for taking photographs in front of the prison. She was held there until she died, which the Iranian government claimed happened because of a stroke she suffered. However, doctors who examined her body found evidence of rape, torture and skull fracture.

Esha was researching the “Change for Equality” campaign, which was launched by Iranian women activists in September 2006. Her graduate professor Melissa Wall, whom I met once, has posted information about Esha on her blog. Her friends have also set up a site for her here. If you have a moment, please sign the petition demanding her release.

Esha’s goal was to help the United States and Iran understand each other better, and I’m sure that before she even ventured back to her country, she knew the risk involved. But she did it anyway, because that’s what journalists do. I hope she gets back home safe.

Here is an excerpt of her writing, which was translated from Farsi, from the “Change for Equality website:

I am dressed in white, head to toe. I am aware that the serenity and peacefulness of white does not represent my city, but when I am dressed in white I feel like a dove that is free, one that has not been earmarked and was never kept captive. As I stroll along the streets of my city, I feel like a bride, a bride that is walking towards a new promise, the dream of equality.

Iran and all that makes it unique – steep streets, narrow alleys and unmarked homes – is still the land of promise that we hold dear to our hearts. The women of this land are peacefully writing a glorious end to the bitter long story of inequality and injustice. Iran is still the covenant to those hands that would like to wash the mud of distress from the yarns of this land in the stream of peace and unity. Only then we can resurrect equality and knit white wings for the dove that represents unity. Meanwhile, behind every closed door, a young girl dressed in white is making history so that she can embrace the future with pride and honor.

My grandmother everyday practices her signature, as evidence of her existence and her uniqueness. Here in Iran, I, you, and our mothers are all brides dressed all in white, and with our peaceful approach we dance in the alleys from house to house so that our promise of equality and unity transforms the sounds of the chains on our feet to the melodies of an anklet.

After a horrible Friday in which I took a test written by Satan himself, we decided to head on over to Koreatown participate in some karaoke in order to blow off some steam, as well as celebrate Nat’s birthday. We took off around 9 p.m. and began to navigate the Los Angeles freeway system, thinking traffic must have died down by that time. We were right, for the most part, however as always, there were a couple pockets of traffic that almost made us turn back and go home. When we arrived in the strip mall complex off of Normandie that housed the karaoke studio, we weren’t quite sure what to expect. We were lead to our own private room, complete with a pistachio green booth, an orange-red table and a television set. Two microphones and tambourines, as well as three song books (mostly all in Korean) sat on the table.

Although it is now a Koreatown staple, karaoke is actually a Japanese word, with kara meaning “empty” and okesutora meaning “orchestra.” It took a couple minutes for us to get used to the set up, and navigate the t.v., but once we got going, we just couldn’t stop.

Our set list included such classics as “Unbreak My Heart,” “Super Trooper,” “Devil Woman,” “2 Become 1″ and many more cheesy pop songs, including my absolute favorite, Barry Manilow’s “Copacabana.”

Excuse the shoddy photo quality, as these were taken with my iPhone. And also excuse the shoddy appearance quality, as I was exhausted by the end of an incredibly fun night. My test didn’t go too well. In my opinion, tests like these have no measure on how a student performs in school whatsoever, and they’re a complete waste of time. I might try again, but after more hardcore studying perhaps. Either way, karaoke in Koreatown took my mind off it, and as Martha Stewart would say, that was a good thing.

I would like to write about how there was a fire on the 405 freeway that prevented me from getting to work in a timely manner, or how my boots gave me horrible blisters today, or how Henry is doing or how much I love Paula Deen. I have a lot I want to write about. In fact, I have 16 drafts of posts that I haven’t gotten you yet. But I can’t write any of it, not right now anyway, because not only am I dead tired from eight hours of work, tomorrow morning, I am going to take a test that’s slightly more hellish than the SAT. The test that might or might not determine the direction of my life for the next couple of years, the test I am dreading, the test that I believe has absolutely no measure on my abilities as a writer or journalist whatsoever. Yes, I will be taking that test, that three letter word of a test, tomorrow for four hours. I’d like to be writing, but instead, I am stressing. I have silently told myself that this is just the test of the test. In other words, this is me getting my feet wet. This is not do or die. This is do, and if you fail, do again. Don’t stress. Stay calm. You will live. I hope.

If I survive, you’ll hear from me soon.

Photo by socraticgrant

Daily newspapers have a long history of endorsing candidates for office, whether that may be for governor, or in this year’s case, for president. As the race winds down between Democratic hopeful Barack Obama and Republican nominee John McCain, Editor & Publisher has published an updated tally of print media outlets across the nation endorsing the candidates.

Overall, The Obama-Biden ticket has the lead with 121 newspapers total, with an over 13.5 million circulation. McCain and Palin have the endorsements of 42 newspapers, with a total circulation of 3.8 million. Here in California, Obama has won the support of 23 newspapers, including The Fresno Bee, The Los Angeles Times, The Los Angeles Daily News, The Modesto Bee, Pasadena Star-News, San Francisco Chronicle and San Jose Mercury News. John McCain has the support of five newspaper in California, including the San Francisco Examiner (seriously?) and San Diego Union-Tribune

Interestingly enough, the three top circulated newspapers in the country, USA Today, The Wall Street Journal and The New York Times have not endorsed anyone. Peculiar…very peculiar. I don’t particularly read USA Today or The Wall Street Journal, but as you might have guessed from reading this little blog I keep, that I am a New York Times nut. In the case of the NY Times, it’s a bit strange they haven’t endorsed anyone, particularly because the commentary in the paper is more or less a dead give away that they support Barack Obama and because in 2004′s election, they publicly endorsed Democratic nominee John Kerry. And don’t forget that they came out in support of Hillary Clinton during this year’s primaries as well.
Barack Obama’s official site does have a list of newspapers that have endorsed his bid for the presidency, and also some excerpts that are very eloquent and so well written, that I would like to highlight just two of them here.

From the Los Angeles Times:

The Times without hesitation endorses Barack Obama for president. But as the presidential race draws to its conclusion, it is Obama’s character and temperament that come to the fore. It is his steadiness. His maturity…In fact, Obama is educated and eloquent, sober and exciting, steady and mature. He represents the nation as it is, and as it aspires to be.

From the Boston Globe:

The nation needs a chief executive who has the temperament and the nerves to shepherd Americans through what promises to be a grueling period – and who has the vision to restore this country to its place of leadership in the world. Such a leader is at hand. With great enthusiasm, the Globe endorses Senator Barack Obama for president. The charismatic Democrat from Illinois has the ability to channel Americans’ hopes and rally the public together, at a time when the winds are picking up and the clouds keep on darkening…An early Obama campaign slogan declared, “We are the ones we’ve been waiting for.” His critics deemed such rhetoric too ethereal. Now it seems prescient, as the nation confronts a financial crisis of historic proportions, as well as all the other policy failures and debt-fueled excesses of the last eight years. The United States has to dig itself out. Barack Obama is the one to lead the way.

It’s interesting that newspapers feel the need or desire to endorse potential presidential candidates. In a profession where objectivity rules overs subjectivity and fair and balanced is the ultimate goal (Sorry Fox News, you fail at your own motto), should newspapers endorse candidates? Is it there place to do such a thing? Or are they meant to provide you a service of news without injecting opinions in it? What is accomplished by endorsements? Are people really swayed by their respective newspaper’s decision to endorse a candidate?

These are important questions to be asking. My particular feeling about the matter is divided. I love seeing the publications I read take a stance on issues, at the same time, I feel that remaining neutral is completely respectable and credible. One thing I can tell you, is that even though it’s not Nov. 4 yet, history has already been made in so many ways. As far as newspapers are concerned, it is interesting to note that that the Chicago Tribune endorsed Obama, the first time the paper has endorsed a Democrat for president. In another move of epic proportions, the Los Angeles Times’ endorsement of Obama marks the first time the paper has endorsed anyone for president since 1972. Even Esquire magazine has gotten in the game and endorsed Obama!

Two more weeks. Just two more weeks.

I read an article in the New York Times Magazine this past week by Lisa Belkin about the price of college tuition, and if paying more is necessarily worth it. “Does a $50,000 a year education really buy a better life than a $12,000 a year education? Or does it buy a fancier sticker for the car?” asked Belkin. She also goes on to say that “an online survey of 2,500 users on the website meritaid.com, found that 57 percent of [high school] seniors are looking at ‘less prestigious’ schools because they cost less.”

When I was in my senior year of high school and deciding to apply to college like every other student my age, I only really had one school in mind, and that’s the school I graduated from with a degree in Journalism. It was a California State University school, where I paid no more than $6,000 a year ( in fact, I think it was less than that) for four years. While others were in a race to get their applications in to UCLA, USC and out of state schools, I already chosen the school which I believed had the best journalism program in the vicinity. And I was right.

I believe a great majority of the people who applied to the brand name schools, only did so for that reason: name recognition. They weren’t thinking about the cost, or if the school had what they were looking for, they and I’m sure a number of parents, figured a bachelor’s degree from UCLA equaled a lifetime of health, wealth and happiness.

I had only one thing to say to that philosophy: It’s not the school, it’s you. The letters “U,” “C,” “L,” and “A” do not make you better educated, smarter or a better person. You make yourself better. You bring the fight, the passion, the willingness to learn. You create your own opportunities, not the prestige behind a school’s name that does not come with anything substantially better than the state school you choose to go to, except a hefty price tag that makes no sense.

The only thing that might be worth your time at a brand name school is the networking opportunities that you might have available to you. You’ve heard the saying “It’s not what you know, but who you know.” Well if that’s the case for these schools, then they’re nothing more than an elite club that values a social network over education.

I have the same position at work with people who graduated from so-called “better” schools. They’re no more better than me because of their education. I paid less then half of what they paid, had amazing professors who actually had real-life journalism experience and I even was a reporter for a local paper while I was still going to school. They paid to learn theories, rub shoulders with inflated egos and have a social network at their disposal.

Now, a year and a half after I’ve graduated, as I get ready to apply to schools in order to get my Master’s degree, I am faced with a dilemma. In fact, I’m faced with many dilemmas. I have looked at journalism schools across the country and beyond. The best I’ve found, that suit my needs and desires come in the form of Columbia University, New York University and Northwestern University. I haven’t thoroughly looked at their fees, because I’m already stressing out about GRE scores, letters of recommendations and clips – one more thing would just take me over the edge. I am sure all of them are in the $20 to 30,000 range or more. Going to Columbia would be a dream of mine, but they only offer a Master of Arts to candidates to have a considerable amount of experience in the field. I’m guessing that means five or more years. That’s discouraging. Their Master of Science program is good, but I think it would be more or less repeating what I already know. I don’t know if I can literally afford to do that. NYU and Northwestern look amazing to me right now as well. Their programs are great and everything I’m looking for.

I want to go to these schools not because of their name, but because of the incredible programs they offer. But what if I don’t get in? What if I’m not good enough? Why does my ability have to be measured by some test scores and transcripts? Why does anyone’s? I know I’m good enough. I have the passion in me. But what if I don’t have the scores? What then? What if I don’t have enough experience yet to apply to a graduate school of journalism? Why does that even matter? What do I do if I don’t get accepted? Do I choose a safety school? Do I banish the thought of not getting accepted out of my head? And what if I do? How do I pay for it? Where do I live? How do I pay to live?

There are just so many questions that I, nor anyone else does not have answers to. The truth is, I’m scared. I think that’s normal. Some of the best things I’ve done in my life have been preceded by fear. Like when I traveled thousands of miles to Barcelona to meet my boyfriend, or when I spent an entire night with a magician at The Magic Castle whom I had only met a day before hand to get a story and write an article, or when I interviewed at a position where I felt slightly belittled, although I stood my ground. I came home thinking, it was the worst interview ever and I was for sure not going to get the job because they were not impressed. I ended up getting it, but didn’t take it, due to the fact that I wasn’t quite interested in the arrogance and unpleasant environment I foresaw myself working with and in.

Oh, it’s not just the test, or the essays or the Master’s degree. It’s life. Thrust into the world, after school, is difficult. This is the real test. It’s all a test.

…as in cirrhosis of the liver. Oh, the things you learn when studying for a horrible unnerving exam.

• They say it’s best when prepping for a test, to learn the roots of words, instead of trying to memorize words. Good strategy. I’ve got both bases covered, but with only a week left for the test that will determine the next year of my life or so, I think I might be reading the “Dictionary of Word Roots and Combining Forms” by Donald J. Borror a little more than “Essential Words for the GRE.”
• I don’t know what it is, but I feel slightly dirty when watching the junior 11-year-old dancers on “Dancing With the Stars.” Like I’m watching something I shouldn’t be. I want to turn away from the tv. I think it’s the way they move – like mini adults, but not yet adults. It’s weird. I thought I was strange, until I concurred with Nat and found out she felt the same way. Tiny children doing ballroom dances and gyrating like adults? Hard to watch and bordering on inappropriate.
• On Saturday, I’m attending the taping of an awards show for Spike TV. There’s a red carpet involved, but I didn’t feel like chasing celebrities down so that I could get their opinion on things. I will be at the event, reporting from the “live blogging” room. I’m a bit nervous, and a bit excited and a bit not.
• Joe the Plumber isn’t even a licensed plumber. He also owed back taxes. $1200 to be exact. Bring Joe Six Pack back. At first I couldn’t understand why Sarah Palin thought Joe Six Pack was synonymous with the common man. Does she honestly believe that normal men have six packs, I thought? Then I realized she meant beer. Then I thought, this woman is a bigger dimwit than I had originally thought.
• Before Joe was well, Joe Six Pack, he wasn’t only Joe Blow and Joe Schmoe (which by the way, comes from the Yiddish word “schmo” meaning simpleton) he was John Q. Public, a name used by law enforcement to refer to someone with no criminal background or motive.
• I’ve taken Emergen-C almost every day this week, followed by two Advil tablets once a day. Usually, I would not even take anything at all, because I hate putting extra pills in my body, but this week, I needed the drugs. And I needed them bad.
• If I was a television producer and Shonda Rhimes came to me and said, “Hey, I’ve created this show, it’s about these doctors who are emotionally stunted, sleep with each other, get involved deeply into each other’s lives and occasionally keep people from dying, what do you think?” I’d say, “Were you living under a rock for the last 10 years? ER already exists! Now get out of my office!” The point is, that if I was the one who thought of Grey’s Anatomy, the idea would already be in the trash bin of my brain before it ever reached the desk of a producer, because I would second guess myself so much in thinking that this is so not original, that I would can it. The lesson: stop second guessing yourself.

Yes, that’s really me. Don’t laugh.

Right now, I want to write about the presidential debate that commenced just a few hours ago. I want to write about how Joe the Plumber has replaced Joe Six Pack and how I was waiting for the sharpie that McCain was rocking back and forth in his hands to explode and how he did not even address the violent-laced insults McCain “supporters” have been hurling at Obama for the last few weeks. Most of all, I want to take those people who even dared to utter the words “Kill him,” “Terrorist,” “Traitor,” or “Off with his head,” dump them all on an island, and drown them with their own ignorance. The world and the gene pool does not need people like that.

That’s what I’d like to write about. I want to get a piece of the pie, like the commentators as CNN, the writers and bloggers at the NY Times and other media outlets have been doing.

Except, I’m tired. I’m really tired. I’m the kind of tired where you feel your eyeballs in their sockets. That’s never a good sign. I’m tired not only because I feel like I’m getting sick and thus have been taking Emergen-C (does this stuff even work?), advil and wearing big sweaters to counteract my chills that are multiplying, but because I stayed at work longer than usual today, a lot longer than usual, and I am suffering the consequences of staring at a computer screen for more than seven consecutive hours. Then when I come home, I subject myself to it again by getting on my own computer. I just with there were more than 24 hours in a day.

Goodnight, internet.

What I’m about to say has no bearing on this lovely gentleman from Montreal we took a photo of

Without giving away too many details, I come into contact with writers on a daily basis as an editor. Some are really good, others self-righteous, many technicalogically-challenged and others horrible writers. Except they don’t know they’re horrible, because their aunt, sister, cousin, [insert random friend or relative here] has told them they are great, so they must be, right?

To put this into perspective, imagine this as the American Idol competition of writing. There are always the bunch that come to sing and are utterly horrible and laughable and when insulted by Simon Cowell, are so taken aback and surprised because they had been told how wonderful they sound. But everyone tells me I have the best voice, they cry. That was utterly horrid, Cowell says, as they go crying off into oblivion.

The problem with people these days, is that they believe that it takes no skill whatsoever to become a writer, painter, artist, etc. Then there are others that think that a 4-year degree is enough to make them excel in their field. I saw it when I was studying for my journalism degree, and my boyfriend has seen it too, when he was studying for his graphic design degree.

Newsflash people: it takes a lot to be a good writer. It takes passion and determination and innate talent. If you don’t have it in you already, I’m afraid school won’t do much good. If you think you can just pick up a pencil or a paintbrush and be the master of your art, I’m afraid you are very wrong.

There are times when I’ve had to explain to writers why their services were no longer needed. Sometimes they take it well and understand and ask for advice on what would make them better writers. Others are in complete and utter shock ( again, like the American Idol contestants) at the thought of me suggesting that they’re not particularly good. There are many that don’t take it so well and these people don’t have any self-awareness at all.

Not having self-awareness, is like a debilitating disease which leads people to be be arrogant, cocky, full of themselves and at times very ignorant. I come into contact on a daily basis with people who lack this basic human concept and the results are embarrassing and quite frankly sometimes hard to watch.

I felt the need to write this because I had a couple particularly bad days last week in dealing with writers and my frustrations got the better of me. That week is over and hopefully this week won’t be the same. In this past year, I have learned so much about why editors in the actual publishing industry don’t give the time of day to writers. I understand that now. Because the good ones (who actually have great attitudes as well) are few and far in between.

This weekend was windy. Very windy. God listened to my prayers and decided to distribute some cold weather to the deprived residents of Los Angeles.

It was so windy in fact, that I had no choice but to make some ginger bread crusted pumpkin pie. It came out well, except my brown sugar was very dry before I put it in the pie and that was upsetting.

I love pomegranate.