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| and by that i mean generally traumatizing.
so yesterday was orientation in bmore. arrived early, listened to people talk, got my forms filled out-- uneventful.
and then i tried to drive to annapolis.
HAHAHAHAHAHA.
first i couldn't figure out how to leave bmore and get onto 295. then i went too far on 295 (like 20 mins too far) and had to turn all the way back around to get onto 97. then i went too far on 50 and ended up in a little town when i wanted to be in downtown Annapolis.
then the first thing my editor says to me is essentially, "a toddler drowned yesterday. call his parents."
ah, the life of a journalist.
traumatizing, i tell you.
in addition to all of this fun stuff, where i'm literally shaking as i try to figure out questions for the family (they hung up on me) and the fire chief (oddly hard to get a hold of), when i finally make it home, i can't find my swipe to get into the garage! yay! so i'm sitting there, in the entrance, getting honked at in the awkward intersection. i had to awkwardly back out and go sit in the adjacent parking lot, only to find it under my seat.
and then this morning! oh this morning. i thought it went well. as with yesterday, i got up in a very timely fashion. i was ready to go! ready to start another day! to conquer the baltimore sun!
and then i get on 495 going the wrong way.
twice.
and 495 going west is all about the traffic at that time of morning, so it takes me half an hour to recover from both my mistakes and i finally get on my merry way. i manage to get to annapolis with little trouble, and then when i get here get an article with a deadline for 2 pmish.
not so bad, until i call this lawyer who essentially makes me feel like a confused two-year-old. patronizing like you wouldn't believe.
i hate lawyers. i can't be one. not for the money. NEVARRRR.
and now that i'm done with my article, my editor is a frazzled mess (poor thing, she's so nice and helpful otherwise though) and can't give me anything to do, so here i am, updating xanganess.
WOOOOOOOOOO second-day madness.
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| i'll be starting my internship at the Baltimore Sun tomorrow.
i've packed myself a lunch. i've got a sandwich with ham and turkey and tomato and cheese, and some grapes and some goldfish and some cereal. it's healthy and it's exciting.
but lunch on the first day is always awkward. i'm an introvert. on the first day of my internship last year, i went out exploring during lunch. i had little to do, i was scared because it was a pretty big newsroom, after working at the gazette, and i barely remembered anybody's name, so i wandered out into the mean streets of historic frederick, contemplating my lunch hour.
i found this little man-made river/stream thing, decorated with plants and full of fish and covered by adorable little bridges. being the emo girl that i am, i went under a bridge, eating my lunch by myself, calling tim to tell him how emo i was being. it was good times. i got less awkward, but i ate a lot of lunches by the river. i ate with the other interns sometimes and sometimes i just ate at my desk.
I'M AWKWARD. what do i doooooo?
the first day at the gazette, i actually didn't have to come in until after lunch. but it was awkward anyway, because they were supposed to be doing some group lunch and they didn't come back until half an hour after i was told to show up, so i think i went to panera to amuse myself. eating and reading washington post express.
and then for the rest of the time i did eat in the communal area of the office, but i never became really friendly or buddybuddy with my coworkers.
WHY AM I NOT THAT KIND OF PERSON? is 10 weeks not enough?
LE SIGH.
oh tomorrow.
good luck to meeeeeee!
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| basically it cements the idea that i will never work for the post and i should probably cry and stay with the gazette or something similarly teeny forever.
my life is shaping up fabulously.
WHAT AM I WORKING SO HARD FOR?
four hours of stat studying later... and what do i know? nothing nothing nothing that will be useful to my future.
thank you, lack of self-confidence and pushy parents and the philip merrill school of journalism, for creating the sad person i am today.
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| it took me five minutes to figure out how to post a new entry on this newly jazzed-up xanga site.
or not so newly-jazzed up. what would i know? i haven't been here in ages.
i was reading some friends' blogs and remembering how i used to do the same-- ranting, raving, writing, making no sense with those choppy little sentences and the ones that would never seem to end, because my train of thought just wouldn't take a break and wanted to test how well my fingers could keep up with my brain.
sometimes it's easier to type when i look at the ceiling.
it's been a while. what's changed?
let's see, world.
nothing, really. i try too hard at school, even though it doesn't really matter. i care too much about my extracurriculars, which may matter. i don't care enough about seeing friends, which is a shame.
why is everyone i know secretly keeping pets in their apartments?
i have a boyfriend. i don't know if i've ever written that in xanga. somehow it was always better to lie to myself even when i was writing. i've never put it on facebook. i don't know what i'm trying to avoid. i tell people that i just don't want to deal with the awkward "cancel relationship" at the end, but that's a really pessimistic outlook. i tell people i just don't want everybody in the world to know, which is legit. no need to announce these things to everybody you've accidentally or purposefully friended and no longer want to talk to, eh?
for my friends that do see me, they say we're joined at the hip. i kind of live at his place, which i justify by saying that my place is terrible-- not a lie, really. it smells bad, clothes and crap are strewn everywhere, and they are loud like whoaaaa. hello sorority girls!-- but maybe i just want to spend more time with him. i say it's healthy because most of the time we're together we're doing homework, so we're not really together. but sometimes it's nice to be able to take a break and get a hug and take a catnap and ask for a foot massage.
hey, sometimes it works. i have my cute days.
exam week is hell, with papers and exams galore, but i'm getting through it. no matter how much i panic, i do know that i'll pull it off somehow. he says it's because i've never experienced failure. i think i have, but i guess just not in terms of grades? i don't know. i've been rejected from colleges. i got rejected from the majority of the internship places i applied to this summer. i didn't get that scholarship to go to Austria this summer. I got a B in calculus. I guess that last one just makes me Asian. or proves his point. I don't know.
this is the most weirdly honest post i've had in all the years i've been posting on this damn thing. it's 3 am'! that's probably why.
i need to sleep.
i love rain when i'm not outside. too bad it's gonna continue when i get up tomorrow morning.
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The beach was lovely, if windy. We spent most of our time at
the hotel’s very large and excellent pool, lounging around and taking long
siestas. I’m slightly more tan, but it’s nothing any of you will ever see.
The hotel was surprisingly nice. I expected some sort of
Spanish motel 6, but our rooms were larger than our hotel rooms in the UK (that is to
say they were very normal American-sized hotel rooms). Our beds were awkwardly
right next to each other, but Ashley and I have lots of love so it’s all good.
Our room connected to the room next door, so we had fun keeping our doors open
and having girly chats with 10 girls from the program who wandered in. We all
talked about our favorite cereals and boys and embarrassing moments… twas
oodles of fun. You can’t do that back here in Granada, hanging out in a room and all
talking, because we’re not allowed in each others’ homestays. We could hang out
at a tapas bar, of course, but that’s all smoky and loud and just not the same-
it definitely wouldn’t feel like a massively slumber party. Surprisingly, seven
out of the 10 girls had boyfriends… we’re an attached bunch.
We got tapas at a slightly sketchy place where we were the
only customers and the owner barely paid any attention to us. He watched
Spanish telenovelas the whole time and I think cheated us out of some tapas…
but it was fun to just hang out with all the girls.
Roquetas del Mar, the beach that we went to, seemed much
safer at night than Granada.
It’s a highly touristy vacation town, so I suppose that’s why.
The beach consisted of men in speedos, women with no tops on
and women with thong bikinis. Despite the stereotypical image of attractive,
fit European men and women, this was not the case. There were plenty of things
I didn’t want to see… but alas I saw them. Seriously… mothers walking around
topless with their 15-year-old sons sitting on the beach next to them. O_O
Needless to say, my bathing suit stayed on.
Oh! I have neglected the fun incident that occurred during
our night there. So it’s sometime between 5 and 6 in the morning, not long
after we went to bed, and I’m dead asleep. Ashley’s just gotten off the phone
with her boyfriend (due to a crazy time difference with California), and she hears a man coming down
the hallway. Confused, since the last four rooms down our hall are AIFS rooms,
she becomes alert. The footsteps stop in front of our room, and she hears a the
door click as the man puts his card into our reader.
WTF?
This man comes in and calls out, “Alguien esta aqui?” and
Ashley’s like, “SI!” She said he muttered something about this being ridiculous
and then he left, but it seems insane that the hotel would make such a big
mistake in giving him our key, especially in the middle of the night. It was
super sketch. Since I let nothing, even the threat of an intruding man, disturb
my sleep, I heard none of this. All I know is that Ashley goes, “Karen! A man
just walked into our room!” and I think I had heard a door shut, so I was like…
“Well, he’s gone now. Go to bed.” And promptly flopped over and passed right
back out again.
Ashley says she deserves compensation and that I am useless.
But it’s all good. We had joked earlier that night about a man coming into our
room, because we kept the door to the other room open “just in case.” Who knew
this would happen?
And since we’re in Spain and customer service is not
exactly at the top of their list of priorities, we complained but they were
like… oops, sorry. If we had been in the states, we would have probably gotten
our weekend free and more!
Eh, well. It’s a different country.
People ignore you when you go into stores here, practically.
Unless you ask them something, they don’t really acknowledge you. They
certainly don’t fall over themselves to ask if you’re looking for something or
if you need any help.
There is a pair of 3 euro shoes on sale just down the street
and they are these cute bright green checkered keds type flat things. I want
them so badly but I just don’t know when I’d wear them -_-;;
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