Helllloooooo again WordPress I haven’t forgotten about you, but I will admit I have forgotten about how to enjoy the parts that make me me.
Sidebar: You ever watch a movie that makes you rethink the way you’ve been operating lately, or in entirety? I watched one of those kind of movies tonight. Ugh — fine, it was The Intern.
Damn Robert De Niro playing a sweet old man. When did he change from an everyday mobster to a kind older gentleman? Maybe that’s the secret to old age, or movies. Anyways …
I’ve been through a lot of change in the last three months, and I think inadvertently let the things that make me me, slip.
I haven’t read a good book in ages. I haven’t written about anything that wasn’t expected of me. I began to think I didn’t have a love for words, or communicating with the masses.
After finally moving into my own place (again) and diving deeper into my new (awesome) job, I watched The Intern and immediately felt like I’ve let myself slide.
Another curse to my being. I’m too hard on myself.
I’m tired and transition takes time.
You ever feel all the change that’s happened over time hit you in one moment and it knocks you on your own feet?
Or keep yourself so busy you forget to take a deep breath and remember what’s really important.
It’s hard to remember life is short and you have to enjoy it.
So why am I feeling sappy?
Because of Ben (De Nero).
He’s a widower — married 42 years, was a business man for half his life and is trying to navigate retirement. He sees a flyer for a “senior internship” program and applies because he still wants to learn and despite his perceived loneliness, views life through an optimistic spread of light.
I know, it’s a movie. The point is about how it got my wheels turning.
I hope I can always remind myself I’m never too old to learn.
I’m never too tired to let my passion slip, and I’m never too discombobulated to remember I’m only human.
So, hello from the other side — learning life after landing a career.
Musicians don’t retire, they stop when there’s no more music in them – Louis Armstrong
Thanks to Netflix I have been re-watching one of my favorites, That 70s Show. After the Hubs gets home from work and before he leaves for school we watch a few episodes together; squeezing in time for each other before it’s time to say goodbye for the night.
We recently watched an episode where the audience learns ‘Donna’ likes to write and wants to possibly pursue a career in journalism. It got me thinking about how many characters in my favorite TV shows were or wanted to be journalists.
Hmmm, maybe subliminal messaging just turned a new leaf? Where my conspiracy theorists at? Just kidding, #aintnobodygottimeforthat
1. Rory Gilmore – Gilmore Girls
2. Phoebe Halliwell – Charmed
3. Carrie Bradshaw – Sex And The City
4. Clark Kent – Superman
5. Sabrina Spellman – Sabrina The Teenage Witch
6. Robin Scherbatsky – How I Met Your Mother
7. Donna Pinciotti
8. Kermit – Sesame Street
9. Rebecca Katsopolis – Full House
10. Harriet M. Welsch – Harriet The Spy
I’m not sure Harriet counts, officially. But we can categorize her as an investigative reporter in the elementary school department. This movie was one of my all-time favorites growing up. You’d have to ask my Ma how she managed the re-runs.
I’m sure plenty of other kids watched the same television shows growing up and connected with the same characters, and most probably didn’t want to pursue a career in writing. Personally, I can help but feel I might have been drawn to these characters for a reason and if anything, it’s another sign I might need to keep me motivated.
Music can act as a lyrical scrapbook. A few beginning notes from an oldie but goodie can snap your subconscious right from the present and into the past.
I can’t be the only one this happen to, right? I’ve been listening more and more to my old mix CD’s because the crap on the radio kills my buzz, usually. So, my movie flashbacks have been happening frequently. One second I’m on the way to Target and in the next beat, I have time traveled to 15-year-old Shannon or 10-year-old Shannon jamming in her mother’s car or bedroom.
I realized I’ve got quite a history with music.
Rusted Root – Send Me On My Way
I suppose this would be considered my first “break up” song. I was 15 and driving with my mom in the family’s blue Nissan Quest. Call it mother’s intuition or the unusual deafening silence in the car from her usual chatty teenager; she leaned over to me and said, “want to know what cheers me up?” She took out a cassette tape and popped it into the stereo.
After it was over I asked if we could listen to it again. And we probably listened to that song once a day for two straight weeks. Ironically when I hear it during reruns of Matilda or on the radio I smile. It reminds me of my mom cheering me up, not the asshole I had dated ;).
Beck – Loser
When I was younger I had no control over the radio, understandably. Us kids already controlled the TV with the infinitive reruns of Greese or favorite cartoons. The radio was off limits.
My mom had Beck’s new album on tape and would CONSTANTLY play this song, as pay back for how many times she had to listen to Greese in the background I’m sure. Nonetheless I couldn’t stand the song and begged for her to change it.
In those days there wasn’t a “next” button, you had to push and hold the fast forward button to “skip” through tracks. It wasn’t worth hassle so I never got my wish. When it comes on the radio I blast it, laughing to myself while I sing because I remember all the lyrics. But how could I not?
Eminem – The Real Slim Shady / The Way I Am
Let’s back up to the year 2000. I was 10-years-old and watching the MTV Music Awards. This was back when it actually was all about the music. Ahh Carson Daly and Sway.
I remember sitting in front of the TV in awe of this dude and thinking his bleached hair was so cool, haha. The hundreds of lookalikes, the entrance, the beat, everything. It’s the first time I remember hearing rap and I have been hooked ever since. I’m also pretty sure I’d have his love child, already pre-approved by the Hubs, lol.
Jimmy Buffet – Margaritaville
My Dad and I would sit together in the living room and sing this song as a duet. It was guaranteed each time the glorious karaoke machine came out from its hiding place. I happily sang the backup vocals part. This is more significant if you know who my father is. Hint: he enjoyed eating potential boyfriends for breakfast and most of my friends don’t even know what he sounds like.
O.A.R. – Crazy Game Of Poker
First, love this song and all their others. When I hear this jam I’m instantly in the crowd at St. Augustine Amphitheater, with my pals, doing my happy jig watching them in concert.
I had just met Matt, my then friend now husband. Matt’s roommate at the barracks begged to put in the O.A.R. CD every time we hopped in Matt’s Explorer and this was the pairs favorite jam song off the CD. When I went to the concert I called Matt on my FLIP PHONE and left it open so he could hear it live.
I was singing, he was singing, we all were singing. Good times.
Beyonce – Baby Boy
I would like everyone to keep in mind I was a freshman in high school when this next blurb happened.
Beyonce had newly released Dangerously In Love and I had put the new album on my MP3 player. I’m pretty sure I ripped the album from BearShare. Napster had been put on the fritz and LimeWire wasn’t a thing yet.
I’m stalling.
I was on a bus with the marching band on the way to a football game. It came on and I sang it to my bus buddy (the person you share a seat with, so scandalous back then!). Who also happened to be the guy I was crushing on. I SANG IT OUT LOUD WITH EYE CONTACT. I can’t hear the song today without cringing.
During my blast from the past music reminiscing, I still wouldn’t let YouTube load long enough to play the first few notes. I JUST CAN’T DO IT CAPTAIN, I JUST CAN’T DO IT!
The Fray – How To Save A Life
I had a really good friend in high school that I would do anything for, and more often than not I ended up it shotty situations trying to save his butt.
There’s a painful moment when I was out on the front lawn, crouched down bawling, watching the paramedics and firetrucks rush to his house. He had overdosed on pain pills and they were trying to save his life.
He was a good dude that made a lot of crappy decisions. It took me a long time to realize I couldn’t help him because I didn’t understand he had to want the help, I couldn’t force it. I kept this song close for a long time.
Journey – Faithfully
Sigh, another heartbreaker. Long story short I broke up with my boyfriend (now husband) because I didn’t think we had known each other long enough to handle a deployment. I secretly sang this song while driving to work, to class and between running errands.
I couldn’t admit to anyone I had regretted my decision, so I could only express my regret through obsessively singing this tune. Now, I happily belt it out when ever it pops up during shuffle.
Florence And The Machine – Dog Days Are Over
I was gearing up to welcome the mentioned-above-boyfriend home from his deployment. I was living roommate-less, hallelujah, in a tiny one bedroom apartment with my pup, Bella.
The song was fitting and I spent the better part of many nights jumping around the house dancing with my pup.
Journey – Don’t Stop Believing
I don’t think this song can play and I not pretend I’m on a stage singing in front of a crowd.
I was 18 and it was summer. I had just moved out of my parents house and this was the summer’s anthem within my tribe of friends. We’d go to the same bar/pool joint and pay to hear this song on the jukebox. And then proceed to sing it to each other, loudly.
I don’t know. I think it’s a safe assumption every group of friends has a jam song they belt out to each other – sober or not.
And Finally:
Aladdin – A Whole New World
At my first apartments I made friends with my neighbors. The patio on the second floor was huge and connected four apartments. The guys that were caddy-corner to my house became additional roomies. Me and my roomie were either at their place or vise versa.
They would have frequent parties and when Wilma (Will) and I got to feelin’ good we’d do a duet for the rest of the crew. Always pretty hilarious, people thought we were ridiculous and it added to our drunken slumber. Good times.
I could go on and on but I won’t.
As I go through the constant-applying-for-jobs-hopeful-post-graduate-expierence with a mix of binging Netflix, the music has helped me deal with the inevitable and frequent rejections emails.
Somewhere in March I received an email asking how much my words were worth. Intrigued, I actually read one of the zillions of emails sent by the university, daily. It was informing students about a nonfiction conference in Grapevine, Texas. You could submit work and if selected, attend workshops with editors, authors and professionals in the literary world.
These selections would also be in the running for cash prizes. As a broke, almost graduated, ever-since-I-was-young-wannabe-writer and student, I submitted a personal essay, why not me. And I was chosen for selection! I was floored, I finally threw out my insecurities and dove in head first and it paid off!
The conference was this past weekend. I don’t think I have the words to craft a proper gauge on how I felt. You know when Hagrid tells Harry, ur a wizard -arry, and Harry begins to understand he won’t have to spend all his time with the Dursleys? Or, when Harry rides his broom for the first time and finds out his father was also a decorated seeker? Or … well I could keep the Harry Potter metaphors going all night … you get it.
The conference was more than just a learning experience. I felt like a grew as a person who loves words and reading/writing stories. Here are a few of the speakers from the lectures I enjoyed the most:
1. Anne Fadiman speaking about her book The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down. Her keynote speech left me feeling full. She emerged herself into a unfamiliar world of Hmong refugees struggling with new life in California. “I believe in accidents, without them I never would’ve wrote my book.”
Happy accidents, this resonated with me. I need to embrace all the humps because those are what put me in the right places at the right time, like this literary conference.
2. Dan Barry and Kassie Bracken speaking about merging the two worlds of journalists and photographers. The importance of collaborating with professionals to tell a compelling story.
“Writing about people of poverty like victims is a mistake. It’s not fair to them as an individual.”
I think it’s easy to feel sorrow for those who aren’t as well off as an “average” human being. But it’s not just about their monthly income, it’s about the story and how people of poverty survive.
3. The panel discussion with Caleb Hannan, S.I. Rosenbaum and Hanna Rosin. Hannan wrote an article about “Dr. V” and her magic putter. The outcome was tragic as the subject committed suicide during the interviews. His candid testimony led us to believe if you feel like something bad is going to happen, then you need to have an open discussion with your editor and vise-versa.
I personally believed he had balls to talks openly and honest about his mis-steps and answering the questions from his panel-mates. You can read the article here, and the letter from the editor here. And Rosenbaum’s after the fact article here.
4. George Getschow’s lecture about the importance of place in a narrative. “I’m always surprised to read an article that misses the importance of place.” Place is like a secondary character and it needs to be just as important as character development. These are the dimensions of place, as explained by Mr. Getschow:
The History- Research it and find out what makes your place tick.
Economy- How does the place survive. Is it an oil, ranching or low income?
What do people wear? What do they eat? How do they communicate?
Weather- It influences peoples mood for the day and how they dress. Using weather can reveal character.
Gestures- How do people greet each other?
Superstitions- paying attention to local legends or tales?
Sights & Sounds
As I sat in a dimly lit lush ballroom with desserts on top of clean white soft linens, tempting guests to eat their cake before dinner, the winners for the top personal essays and reported narratives were announced. The top three in each category were awarded cash prizes, and the top ten would be published in the literary journal Ten Spurs.
There’s no better way to say this then, I WON! My name is called after the 8-minute mark in the video below and I get on stage after the 9-minute mark. A professor of mine called my name as I walked by to get on stage and I tackled her into a hug. “I didn’t know you submitted a piece! I’m so proud of you!”
There is no better feeling than hitting a home run. Now that I know how it feels I want to do it again, over and over again as many times possible. This was the perfect way to kick me off into the professional world and end my stay with the University of North Texas, Mayborn School of Journalism.
It’s a cliche to say, “follow your dreams,” but it’s true. Many times I was red-inked, felt like a poor writer and told I’d never make any money as an author. My personal dialogue said the same thing. I finally told the voices the shut-it and jumped off the high dive.
It was a rough road. I felt exposed and unsure if I propelled my story with the correct words. I cried reliving certain slices of my life. In the end it all happened the way it was supposed to, why not me.
This conference also added readings to my already to tall stack of books. This list is more for me so I won’t forget, but If you’re looking for something new to read, all the better!
RamblinRandol 