Tea, a Good Book and Rain: My Idea of a Perfect Evening

It is what you read when you don’t have to that determines what you will be when you can’t help it - Oscar Wilde

As any good writer or journalist was and probably still is, I am a lover of books. I have been from a small age, where I remember gobbling up the entire “Indian in the Cupboard” series and “Diary of Anne Frank” as fast as I could. I could read during anything, even when my mom was hell bent on vacuuming the entire house, and there was no room I could run to to escape the loud, unnecessary humming sound that came from the cleaning device. For some reason, I was really into Leon Uris novels, even though they were beyond my scope and probably, my understanding. Jewish history and the Holocaust fascinated me, most likely because I could relate to it, since I grew up knowing my own tainted history of the Armenian Genocide. I think the first book I remember reading was called “Rent a Third Grader” by B.B Hiller in, you guessed it, third grade. I brought it to school with me and my teacher became so intrigued, that I think she might have recommended it to other students or teachers.

It was the story of a class of third graders who try to raise money so they could save a retired police horse name Partner from going to HappiPet Food to meet his end, and it was amazing. After that, I remember delving into “The Babysitter’s Club” of course, as well as the “Nancy Drew” series which I absolutely loved, and Judy Blume books.

Over the last couple of years, my reading has sharply declined, because well, as you know, life is what happens to you when you’re busy making other plans, as John Lennon once said. The books I was reading were mostly for school and I only managed to read a few for pleasure including “Back roads” by Tawni O’ Dell and “Lolita” by Nabokov. However, because of a humanities class I once took, I discovered my favorite book to date, “The Unbearable Lightness of Being” by Milan Kundera. If you have a reading list, or you’re looking for a book to read, I cannot stress how wonderful this book is. It will leave you breathless.

In 2008, I wanted to change my reading habits, so I started three books but never managed to finish them, including “Tuesdays with Morrie” by Mitch Albom, “Slaughterhouse-Five” by Kurt Vonnegut and Julie and Julia by Julie Powell. It wasn’t until I started reading the “Twilight” series by Stephenie Meyer that I remembered how much I absolutely love and adore literature and reading, which is quite ironic, because they aren’t very well written and almost quite laughable, but when you have such an intriguing and amazing story as the one that Meyer created, it’s easy to let down your guard and be consumed by the tale. Four books about Bella and Edward’s vampire-human love tryst later, I am completely enamored with books yet again and I’ve stacked about 19 books I must finish this year, that you can find the titles of below.

1. Dead Until Dark - Charlaine Harris
2. Slaughterhouse - Five - Kurt Vonnegut
3. Tuesdays with Morrie - Mitch Albom
4. Skylark Farm - Antonia Arslan
5. Fig Eater - Jody Shields
6. The Picture of Dorian Gray - Oscar Wilde
7. Collected Stories of F. Scott Fitzgerald
8. The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society - Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows
9. The Hungry Years - William Leith
10. The Secret Life of Bees - Sue Monk Kidd
11. Love in the Time of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
12. The Call of the Weird - Louis Theroux
13. The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People - Stephen R. Covey
14. Immortality - Milan Kundera
15. Julie & Julia - Julie Powell
16. Beginner’s Greek - James Collins
17. The Nanny Diaries - Emma McLaughlin & Nicole Kraus
18. The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
19. Difficult Loves - Italo Calvino

Not Interested

Listen up everyone. I’m running on empty here. I mean that. I’m so tired I can feel my eyeballs in their sockets. Have you ever had that feeling? Where you’re so tired, you can FEEL your eyes? It’s not pleasant at all, but that’s what I’m going through right now.

I’ve got so much on my plate, a lot of it I hate, and the other half I love, but don’t have enough time to devote to and I feel I’m nearing a crosswords. There is so much to think about that my mind feels like it’s been permanently diagnosed with ADHD. I can’t concentrate on one thought. But enough about the future. Let’s talk about the present.

I have about four movie reviews to write, a press junket to transcribe, a screening to go to tomorrow and traffic school to deal with. I’m losing my mind. I’m finding it so difficult to write my reviews. I’ve always found them difficult. I’ll read reviews by Manohla Dargis in the New York Times, or the Village Voice or the Los Angeles Times and think, from what dark hole in your mind did you pull that out of? And how come I’m not seeing it? Is there something deeper and more profound I’m not getting, when I go to these screenings? I just don’t know anymore. I find it so hard to accurately express my feelings about films. The only films I’m able to dissect just as good as a NY Times movie critic are the ones I’m totally invested in and am passionate about. So I’m having quite a difficult time right now with myself and my movie reviews. I’m second guessing myself and I don’t like it.

Mostly the fatigue is getting to me. I just want to take a sabbatical and go off into the woods of Utah or something with a typewriter and enough tea to last me for a couple months and just write. Write to my heart’s content, without worrying about stress, and a full-time job, and traffic and life and graduate school. I’m becoming slightly disillusioned with the journalistic career opportunities this city has to offer. I do not want to be a movie critic. I don’t want to write about the movies and stars everyone is talking about. I want to write about the woman who turned a hobby into a full-fledged business and got herself our of debt, or the hole-in-the-wall restaurant that serves the best food in town, or the day laborer on the street who is working so hard to make ends meet for his family. I want to write about the pet organization that helps displaced dogs and cats find homes after natural disasters, I want to write about the injustices committed against journalists in Middle Eastern countries, I want to write about the professor who is doing studies on how video games in nursing homes are impacting lives. These are where the stories are, these are the people that matter, not directors, not producers and certainly not actors.

I’m just so tired of it all.

Endorsing the Change we Need

Last Friday, on Oct. 24, while I was stuck in four hours of test hell, my beloved New York Times finally picked a candidate to endorse. Can you guess who?

Oh yes. The New York Times is baracking the vote. Look at this lovely man. This symbol of change, the voice for a generation, the icon of hope. Look at him, standing in the rain, at a rally in Fredericksburg, Virginia on Sept. 27. Do you want to know how many people showed up to this rally? 26,000. 26,000 “my friends,” as John McCain irritatingly says.

The entire endorsement is three pages long, so I will only post a snippet here:

As tough as the times are, the selection of a new president is easy. After nearly two years of a grueling and ugly campaign, Senator Barack Obama of Illinois has proved that he is the right choice to be the 44th president of the United States.

Mr. Obama has met challenge after challenge, growing as a leader and putting real flesh on his early promises of hope and change. He has shown a cool head and sound judgment. We believe he has the will and the ability to forge the broad political consensus that is essential to finding solutions to this nation’s problems.

The NY Times has a really interesting multimedia feature that outlines their endorsements dating back to 1860 with the endorsement of Abraham Lincoln. Can you imagine this paper has been around for that long? It’s incredible.

In the time I spent today on the freeway, trying to escape the Halloween rush, I listened to Kevin Roderick on his show “LA Observed” on KCRW. The topic of discussion was presidential endorsements or lack thereof. While I highlighted above who the third most circulated publication in the country is betting on, there are a number of publications who choose not to go either way.

Roderick spoke of the Los Angeles Times, who I also posted about here. However, interestingly enough, he mentioned that LA Weekly, whom I love and hope to one day write for, gave up it’s tradition of making endorsements, because it’s Arizona-based ownership, Village Voice Media, has a policy against publications under its belt endorsing.

On a whole, like I’ve said before, I don’t know how I feel about publications endorsing candidates. I don’t feel like they shouldn’t, but I don’t know if endorsing has an effect on the public. People form opinions from information and facts, not necessarily from how the editorial board of a publication feels about certain issues. However, an endorsement from the Times is a big deal. Quite a big deal. There are two days left to decide who is going to be the next president of this country. I hope everyone takes note of this endorsement if they’re undecided.

Photo by oporder

Journalism Student Arrested in Iran

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.

And the Endorsement Goes to…

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.

College, Money, Life. In That Order. Maybe Not.

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.

Self-Awareness is Underrated

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.

Things That Keep me Awake at Night

Contemplation in an NYC diner, pen in hand.

In the past few weeks, I have found myself contemplating my future more than ever. This is partly due to the fact that I’m looking to apply to about four graduate schools come December and January. My anxiety doesn’t stem from the fact that I doubt my abilities, it stems from the idea that others could possible doubt my abilities. Graduate school professors, perhaps? Or the team of people that review applications. Or even publications I might try to pitch ideas to. The problem is a couple of things. First, the world of print journalism has been dying a slow death for the past couple of years. Although I firmly do not believe that big institutions of news, like The New York Times or USA Today will go away, because broadcast and new media rely so heavily on them as the gatekeepers of news, it will be horribly impossible to be considered for any editorial type job there for the writers and editors of my generation.

As any recent grad in the journalism field knows, it is so difficult to find an entry-level job, let alone one that is willing to pay you a decent wage. Once I applied for an editorial assistant position that paid $14. Fourteen dollars. That’s one dollar more than I was making in the last year of the customer associate job I had during college. Only one dollar more. I see countless listings on Craig’s List for reporters and writers, but many of them are not only volunteer-based, but pay anywhere from $10 to $12. I mean, really?

But, let’s face it, no one becomes a journalist for the money, except for the delusional students who somehow think majoring in journalism is going to launch them into the helmet hair, salmon colored suit hell of broadcasting for a local network. I became a journalist because I’m passionate, and really, that is the number one thing that this field responds to: passion. If you don’t have it, you’re better of going to Business school or enrolling in another program. The trouble is, at first, you’re not going to make much money, in fact, if you’re not good, you won’t ever make good money at all. Second, you’re going to be possible met with criticism from the public. News flash: Journalists are not liked. I once read a poll conducted not too long ago that ranked journalists in the same league as user car salesmen on issues about honesty and trust.

I can’t believe I read this week that the Los Angeles Times is cutting another 75 editorial jobs. Who do they expect to run the paper? Advertisers? What is in the future for print-lovers like me who want to make our careers in journalism? When I toured the Los Angeles Times office when I was a sophomore in high school, I was so overcome by emotion. Yes, I was a big dork, but that’s besides the point. The point was, I knew that where I belonged, ultimately, was in a newsroom. Most of you are thinking, wow what a loony, of all places, why would anyone want to be there? Let me tell you, when news breaks, the best place you could be is in a newsroom. The thrill, the rush, the excitement, the messy desks, the editors and writers whizzing past one another, the televisions on, the radio on standby, web pages open on the army of computers. Transport me to a newsroom any day, and I’ll get right to work. You won’t even have to ask.

This is the stuff I live for. The stuff I’m passionate about, the stuff that has the power to induce compassion, incite anger, change minds and expose the truth. During the day, I plot ways that I can replace Erica Hill on Anderson Cooper 360, pitch a story to the New York Times and be taken seriously, even though I’m relatively young. Erica Hill is 32. Thirty two! That means I have about eight years plotting time to come up with a plan to be on air with the silver fox known as Anderson Cooper. On my way to work, I try to think up the questions the reporters on NPR might ask, before they actually ask them. If you’re not a fan of radio news, I suggest that you don’t step foot in my car, because that’s mostly all I listen to on my long drives from and to work.

My Saturday mornings are spent with my mother on the kitchen table trying to solve the crossword puzzles on the last page of every issue of New York Magazine. People, I have the Society of Professional Journalists “Code of Ethics” pinned on my wall at work and “Beyond the Inverted Pyramid” by The Missouri Group on my desk. I reference the Associated Press Stylebook almost daily.

In short, I love journalism. Someone get me a bumper sticker: I <3 Journalism. Yes, I love it. I hope to succeed in it. I hope to leave a mark on the world. I hope to be recognized for my craft. I hope that years from now, journalists can be looked at on the same level as doctors and artists and other prestigious professions. I hope that when  a high school students declares a desire to become a journalist or writer, his or her parents don’t try to persuade them in the pursuit of something reliable and realistic such as business, or something that will make bring in the money, but make you lose your soul in the process.

I hope that I can be among the Ida Tarbells and Christiane Amanpours and the Ernest Hemingways of the world.

This is Only The Beginning, I Presume

Friday cannot come any sooner. I feel as if I have already done enough with my hours and now I want to allow the week some time off. Thursday and Friday, can you please disappear? Don’t bring me more work, more traffic and less sleep. Why don’t you join Saturday and Sunday and give me a a nice, long weekend to look forward to?

My day started at 5:30 a.m. yesterday and ended at 10:30 p.m. By the time I got home, I more or less collapsed in my bed. I was so tired. I was the kind of restless tired. The kind of tired when you can feel your eyeballs in their sockets, where if you stay up just a bit longer, the loopy, crazy, insane behavior might start and you wont be able to stop it.

As per usual, Los Angeles traffic was relentless. It still boggles my mind on how people can come to this city and survive its strange behavior and customs. If the Iranian Revolution hadn’t taken place and I had lived my life in Tehran, was forced to wear a head scarf and then one day my parents decided to take a trip to Los Angeles, I think I would have lost my mind. How does one come here from Minnesota and manage to drive to and from work and home on a gridlocked 405 freeway. I am from here and I barely survive it. I’ve learned to tune it out a bit I guess and I am sure that this is what most people do, newcomers and locals alike and that’s how we all survive together, but I can imagine how shocking the idea of spending that long of a time in your car before you get to work can seem.

After work, I had to run over across town to see a press screening of “Ghost Town,” the new film starring Ricky Gervais, or as I like to perpetually call him David Brent. No matter how good you think it is, the American version of the The Office has absolutely NOTHING on the U.K. Office. David Brent rules the world and me and you just live in it. Stapler in jelly, redundancies, Keith, Sergio Georgini, can it get any better than this? I think not.

But I digress. The movie was quite funny, just your typical comedy, with a few twists and turns, but nothing absolutely spectacular, except for Ricky Gervais’ shark tooth. I couldn’t help but think about David Brent throughout the whole film, albeit a grouchy, loner David Brent. I hate when I go to press screenings, and they’ve combined the press with a gazillion other normal movie-goers who just happened to get invited to an early screening. I can’t stand it. It takes away from the professionalism of it all. I guess it’s a good way to judge how the film is perceived by others as you watch it, but I still get annoyed.

Earlier this year, when I attended the press screening for “The Wackness” at Sony Studios, it was so…professional. I hate to use that word again, but it’s the way it felt. I was going where normal people didn’t get to go, to a private movie studio lot, where I was handed an identification card to put on my car and had to maneuver my way through the buildings, check in with the publicist from the public relations firm, and sit in the theater, with other journalists. It was so fulfilling. I felt like a real writer, with other writers, in a special place just for us, so that we can watch this film, and either love it or hate it. I don’t mean to romanticize the whole thing, but I love being a member of the press.

I love it. It’s what I live for. The power we have just overwhelms me at times. Granted, it’s not something many would think of as ‘power’ but it is influence nonetheless.

After the screening, I got on the road with a bladder so full that if I had some how made a sharp turn, I would have burst. As you can imagine, I went straight for the toilet when I arrived home. And then after that, I went straight to my bed, and the lines of vision between the real world and sleep world became blurry and I eventually and quickly dozed off.

I dreamt about writing and typewriters and Jack Kerouac and Anderson Cooper and the New York Times. I saw myself talking to the homeless of Los Angeles, trying to tell their stories. I thought about my byline appearing in a national magazine. My visits to the Educational Testing Service website the day before to find out more about the GRE (Graduate Record Examination) danced around in my head and made me just as nervous thinking about exams and scores and no.2 pencils as I had been in high school.

Today, I got up the nerve to register for the test. I will face my doom in a month’s time. Needless to say, I am frightened. Very frightened. Standardized tests don’t sit well with me, but then again, who do they sit well with? This is the first step I must take to continue my education. A first, very scary step. A step that will lead me to a Master of Arts in Journalism or English. It’s now or never. I am ready to take the plunge. I am not, however, ready to take a rigid test that has no bearing on my skills as a writer, reporter, editor or decision maker at all. That’s the harsh reality of it, I hope it isn’t taken too much into consideration by my prospective institutions of higher learning. On the other hand, there are a couple of Universities I’m looking into at the moment in London. Fortunately, these schools do not require silly tests like the GRE. Thank God for the British. There are many decisions to be made in the coming months, many late nights, many stressful situations, many doubts and hopes and fears and dreams all rolled into one, about education, life and love. I’m ready to face it. I’m quite ready. Being a journalist, making a difference somehow, someway in someone’s life means more to me now, than it ever did before. I’m hungry for it and I don’t think I will ever get full.

Rose Bowl Flea Market, Pasadena, April 2007, by Keeg

Writing, Baking, Mastering the Art of Both

I’m reading Julie & Julia: 365 days, 524 recipes, 1 tiny apartment kitchen. You might have heard of this book by Julie Powell.  It details how “one girl risked her marriage, her job and her sanity to master the art of living,” or more specifically master the art of French cooking as outlined by Julia Child. I’m only 59 pages into it and the more I read it, the more it inspires me, not only to cook, but to write. Write, write, write. That’s all I want to do. Most days I dream about writing a book, but when I’m reading one, I wonder to myself, “how in the world can I master this?” Some days it just seems impossible. Julie Powell is inspiring me to write. After all, in her book, she details how she started a blog, the Julie/Julia Project and after just two entries, she had already received a comment from someone stating how her writing was well liked.

This was her original blog entry:

The Book:

“Mastering the Art of French Cooking”. First edition, 1961. Louisette Berthole. Simone Beck. And, of course, Julia Child. The book that launched a thousand celebrity chefs. Julia Child taught America to cook, and to eat. It’s forty years later.  Today we think we live in the world Alice Waters made, but beneath it all is Julia, 90 if she’s a day, and no one can touch her.

The Contender:

Government drone by day, renegade foodie by night. Too old for theatre, too young for children, and too bitter for anything else, Julie Powell was looking for a challenge. And in the Julie/Julia project she found it. Risking her marriage, her job, and her cats’ well-being, she has signed on for a deranged assignment.

365 days. 536 recipes. One girl and a crappy outer borough kitchen.

How far will it go? We can only wait. And wait. And wait…..

The Julie/Julia Project. Coming soon to a computer terminal near you.

I like her writing style. I like her. I like the fact that she was able to turn something she thought was going ot be ‘nothing’ into a full fledged publishing career. The same can be said for Twilight author Stephenie Meyers or even Heather from Dooce OR my newest favorite Wife in the North. All these people never really set out to become authors or be known or make a living off of a blog or a few chapters that were strung together on a whim. But they did, and I admire and envy them for that so much. I have so many ideas I want to explore, so much I want to write and see and bake and cook. Sometimes it all gets a bit too overwhelming. Sometimes I just have to take a step back and tell myself that I can’t do it all at once. That’s part of my problem. I want it all at once.  I just need to focus. Maybe this blog needs a bit more focus, or maybe focusing means starting an entirely different blog all together. I’m not really sure.  I don’t know if that even matters.

I know the archives of this blog only go back to June, but that’s some what of a nomenclature. I had about 2 years worth of content on this site, until one unfortunate day, I managed to accidentally wipe out everything I had written over the course of that time in one single click of a button. Not to say that anything I had written was particularly worthwhile, as far as prose is concerned, but still, they were my words. The words I had found time to written while going to college, holding down two jobs and falling asleep while driving home from said college and jobs.

I hope at some point, I can turn what I love to do into what the aformentioned people in the paragraph above did. I truly sincerely hope that I can. Because it means a lot to me. It makes me feel like I’m contributing something (useful or not, that’s up for debate) to the world, or at least to the world wide web.