Thursday, March 29, 2007

MY BROTHER IS IN THE ARMY [and he is still alive]

I parallel parked perfectly, as usual. Grabbed my book-bag, cd's, and purse and made my way down the side walk. Two guys were walking towards me, both in base ball hats. The guy on the left was short and had a St. Patty's Day green t-shirt on. He was smoking a cigarette and his footsteps were wide, like a faux cowboy. The other was tall and wore a pitifully-pale yellow polo shirt. He had a lanky body that weighed his shoulders down, and the centerpiece of his face was an obnoxiously large nose. As I approached them they continued their travels and conversation,

"I didn't vote. I'm not even registered," the tall one said. I couldn't help myself. Maybe it was the PBRs, maybe it was Valient Thorr.

"That's pitiful," I blurted out.

"I serve our country, that's more than you do," the tall guy responded as I passed them. I rounded the corner of the sidewalk, turned my head and yelled back,

"My brother is in the army, and he votes. He's got two up on you."

I won't point fingers. I won't blame an elected official. But I will get mad and further the debate:

Does democracy depend on journalism, or does journalism depend on democracy?

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

confessions of a dj

goal- be successful in NPR
hopes- work for KCRW
dream- arrange soundtracks for movies
ambitions- all of the above

Monday, March 26, 2007

Please Don't Take My Sunshine Away

I am doing pretty good these days. I've learned what I need to do to keep myself functioning. And lately, my mood has been exceptional. Maybe it's the creative writing classes. Maybe it's my growing involvement with music and WKNC. Maybe it's the meds. What I really think it all comes down to are the rays of sunshine.

The weather has been gorgeous. The windows at my apartment stay open. It's officially spring and the sun is evaporating the drab grays of winter, and it feels so good. I want to stay outside all day. I walk around campus and I hold my head slightly higher than usual- so I can feel the sun. I close my eyes for a few seconds. My face feels warm, I smile, and I feel better. I truly believe that the sun helps my mood. I am a proof.

I am anticipating this summer. Summer school shouldn't be that painful. Classes are everyday, which prevents forgetting material, and then after five weeks it's over. I plan on spending plenty of time at the pool. I love the sun so much that I've learned to get over being uncomfortable in a bathing suit. Yes I will be wearing sun block. I am of Irish decent and my skin takes time before it tans. I know- be careful, skin cancer is a serious risk. But, I don't go to the tanning bed, I use a lotion with an SPF when I go to the pool, and I think that the benefits I get from the sun far out weigh the risks.

Monday, March 19, 2007

Dear Asshole who lives in my apartment complex,

Don't take it if it's not yours. I don't understand why you felt the need to take my jeans out of the washing machine and keep them- my white J. Crew jeans with a hint of stretch and a 35 inch inseam, the tall size that never goes on sale. I work hard for my money. I am not some daddy's girl that gets to go shopping whenever she wants. I am a full-time student that takes out student loans, works for very little money at the radio station, and waits tables to make sure my bills get paid. And you--- you had the nerve to go through my load of laundry in the washing machine in the locked laundry room of our apartment complex and take my white jeans. You left the other clothes, how considerate of you, asshole. I just don't get it. I earn a little bit of extra money and buy myself a nice pair of jeans, wear them twice, and then you come along and take them. If I see you with my jeans on I am going to teach you a lesson your mom didn't: it's called STEALING and it's not right. You are now an official thief. You have stolen my jeans and stolen my faith in people being honest and good. I now know that there is no community or sense of neighborhood bond. You have given me one more reason not to trust anyone. You're an asshole and you made me upset. I know jeans are a material thing and can be replaced, but for me it was more than that. They were my white jeans. They made me happy when I wore them. They signified financial independence, confidence, and individuality. They were my rock concert jeans. I hadn't even gotten the opportunity to wear them in the glory of summer, my favorite season. You took them, you didn't earn them. You can't wear them the same way I did. You will never know the feeling that swells up when the brain chemistry is in your favor, the music blaring from the stage is lifting you higher, and the white jeans are gleaming in the sea of people. When you wear them I hope that feelings of guilt, depression, and shame paralyze you- that you quiver with fear of being caught and run from the apartment door, making a pathetic dash for the car, avoiding contact with others. What I really want though is for you to realize what you have done in a sociological perspective. The world if full of crap, and most of it we are unable to control, but the thing we have complete control of- being nice to others- you fail at. If anything that I have said makes you decide to relinquish your wrong doings please return the jeans to the leasing office.

Upset, poor college student

Monday, March 12, 2007

SXSW Jealousy

To all that will be in Austin, TX this week for South by South West, drink a beer and scope out new music for me. Lack of financial and faculty support from the University has prevented WKNC staff from being present for the conference. I had a lofty goal that I would go on my own and planned on bringing business cards to hand out to all bands that caught my ear. I wanted to come back from Texas with the hottest newest music and freshen up the rotation. It's just not going to happen. I can't afford to fly or drive down there. I can't afford the pass, even at the discounted student price. I can't miss that much class without having the absences excused by the University. I can't afford to miss work. So, I will be tuning into KEXP's live broadcast and listening with envy.

Sunday, March 11, 2007

Spring Break has sucked. Bad.

Classes resume tomorrow and I couldn't be in a worse mood. I am in a state of upset, pissed off, twitchy gloom. I think it is mostly due to not walking as much. I walk to class every day and with not having class for a week I've done a lot of drinking and sleeping. If I remember correctly from eighth grade health class, alcohol isn't loaded with dopamine. So after a week of nothing, my parents came up for my little sister's birthday. They have been divorced for almost five years and manage to sit at the same table and eat a meal, in public mind you, in peace. However, I made sure that they didn't sit next to each other and somehow ended up between them; the glass of wine helped. Then, to add to that I come to find out my mom has a boyfriend- my MOM! I am happy for her, I really am. I can't imagine how it feels to be divorced after nineteen years of marriage and then to find out through your kids that your ex-husband has numerous girlfriends. Her having someone is long overdue. But it upsets me a little and re-affirms my notion that I have written across my forehead, in ink only visible to the male eye, DO NOT DATE ME. I just don't get it. My friend Rachel tells me I don't put off the right vibe; a vibe that says 'yes talk to me, yes I am single, yes date me'. What the hell? Does that vibe include layers of make-up, a low cut shirt, push-up bra complete with gel-filled inserts, and an annoying laughter? If it does, count me out. I prefer rock bands, Pabst Blue Ribbon and bourbon, shooting pool, and being independent. Maybe my problem is that diagnosis plastered at the top of the page. I have been successfully avoiding writing about that. I have mixed feelings about it being there. But I know I started this blog for a reason, so I will leave it there. Eventually, I will write about why I choose to put it there- when I have time to figure out why I did it.

Enough. This is what happens when you sit at the keyboard and just type. I have class tomorrow and school work to do.