Thursday 1-27:
It started out as a bit of a bummer day b/c Jessy was supposed to go see Billy Elliot the musical with me but ended up pretty sick. I emailed all my friends to see who could accompany me, and my friend Alissa who went to London with me Freshman year said she could come. We met at Hawthorne's for pizza and then headed to the theater.
When I saw it in London in '09 I remember not understanding all the words because they had such thick Glasgow-area accents. They had the same accents in this version, but a little more toned town - perhaps because they simply aren't as good at them - but either way, it was easier for me to understand. Alissa said she still had a problem understanding many of the words though.
The little boy who played Billy was so excellent. He is going to be such an amazing dancer one day (I mean, he already is, but when he can take his current skills and build on them in a grown man's body....wow). Not only was he an excellent ballet dancer, but his tapping was pretty stunning as well. Even the coal miner men donned tap shoes and put on a couple impressive tap numbers.
Anyway, it was really great catching up more with Alissa. I feel like we're going to become better friends in the future and I'm happy about that. She was the only student in the London '06 trip that did not go to UNC and I don't think we were able to get to know each other as well as we'd have liked.
I must admit, however, that watching that musical made me long for London - as so many things do these days. I'm so good at pretending I'm transported back in time, but when the lights came on and everyone around me was speaking un-accented English, the pretending faded.
Friday 1-28:
I met with a World War II vet Friday morning. I was interviewing him because he is being awarded, at 89 yrs old, the French Legion of Honor - the highest award in France for service to their country. He had the coolest stories to tell me and was overall very inspiring. At 89 he tends a full vegetable garden, is on no medications, and has a marvelous memory. He even wrote out 6 pages of his story so I could take it with me and not have to type as much. His wife also made homemade organic banana bread for us that morning. It was really very inspiring and I got to work and wrote the story with so much passion that my editor told me it is my best story and pictures since I've been working here.
 |
| Bible study girls at Blue. |
Saturday 1-29:
Saturday evening a group of Charlotte Observer friends met at Chipotle by Christina's house for dinner. We brought our dinner back to Christina's and sat around eating and getting to know each other better before going to PreVue for an improv show in NoDa. The whole evening was a tribute to Christina's birthday and she made a rule: everyone must wear a pashmina. She and Caroline brought extras for those men who did not own one. Now, to understand the pashmina mandate, you have to understand where it started. One day (before I was working here) Cleve walked in wearing what he thought was an off-white scarf. One of the women in the office said "Oh, you're wearing a pashmina - it's a girl's scarf." He said, "No, this is my manly-man scarf. I don't know what you're talking about." Then she found the tag on it which clearly labeled it as a "pashmina." Well, he still wears it and proudly. Thus the joke that resulted in the mandate by one of his best friends (Christina) for her b-day party.
 |
| The pashmina crew at PreVue for improv night. |
Anyway, the show was really funny and they even used several of our suggestions in the skits, including the line "Where does a well-heeled man go to get a pashmina?" We were in riotous laughter when they used that one since I believe no one on stage knew what a pashmina was.
After the show, we all walked the 2 blocks to some pub in NoDa and sat around talking and laughing until pretty late.
By the end of the night, I was so happy. I was finally making newsroom friends amongst others who were friends of newsroom staff. It was just a really happy night and I had a wonderful time.
Monday Jan. 31:
I had a 9 a.m. meeting with a future story possibility and didn't make it into work until 10:30. I was still coming off my weekend of happiness high and was thinking to myself, "Wow, I'm so lucky to have a job I love and now to have a 'group' too."
I hadn't even sat down yet when the hiring manager approached me and took me into a small conference room. Apparently, I'd missed the meeting that morning where they announced that the Observer was laying off 20 people, 5 from the newsroom. And, as the only "temp" and most recent hire, I was one of the five. After that was a bit of a blur.
Picture: Me, crying hysterically, hyperventilating, getting dizzier and dizzier, feeling like my chest was caving in, about to faint, all while the hiring manager is standing there trying to tell me how I'm an amazing writer and everyone loves me and how bad she feels, and then how she can go get my stuff for me and I can go home, in fact, can stay home through the 18th (my scheduled last day) if I want and still get paid. Finally, I gasped out that I needed water and she ran to get me some cold bottled water and tissues which began the calming down process. Then I asked her to find Jessy or Cleve, and since Cleve wasn't in yet, she got Jessy.
It was a little better after Jessy came in b/c at least then I had the comfort of someone hugging me. After she got me a bit calmer, she went to get one of my editors to come and talk to me, and he promised to use me as a freelancer as soon as I left and said everything would be okay. Finally, Jessy got me my things and then called Cleve to tell him what happened. He came and picked me up and took me to Amalie's French Bakery to finish the calming down process before I had to go home and face telling everyone else. I'm so thankful to have such good friends here.
Tuesday 2-1:
My eyes were still puffy, and I moved from the grieving stage to the anger stage. I won't deny - I was bitter - and got more and more riled up by my co-worker who tends to be loud and angry about policies here often and is now even more so. However, toward the end of the day, I got good news: 3 diff. editors at least will be able to use my as an independent contractor for freelance stories which in the end, could put me with more stories in the paper than before and potentially more money - with less crappy, non-writing work.
However, driving to an interview that night, I still found myself struggling with tears. Yet that night, I read some inspirational Bible versus, and woke up Wednesday a whole new girl.
Wednesday 2-2:
Wednesday was really great. The day was beautiful, I felt hopeful and actually excited about the future of not waking up at 7:25 a.m. and being more free to travel. I don't have a mortgage or kids and I'm back on my parent's health insurance plan. I'm gonna be just fine.
Today:
I've decided that I'm going to travel as much as possible during this time of freedom. This weekend I'm going to Asheville to visit Tiffany. I'm hoping to make it up to Chapel Hill within the next month. In April I'll prob. go down to Florida with Mom and Dad for her spring break, and sometime within the next 6 months, I'm going either to Amsterdam or Spain to visit Lieselotte or Enrique respectively. I will look into doing freelance for magazines as well as for the Observer and hopefully can get into travel writing now that I have some experience in "real" writing under my belt.
No comments:
Post a Comment