Bonnaroo Take 2

So, as I detailed a bit yesterday tomorrow is my second go round at the big farm in Manchester, TN for Bonnaroo...to say I'm excited is an understatement, but there's even more reasons for happiness this year than I had last year.

Last year's festivities included me going by myself, sleeping in my car, missing the first day, and a whole host of other things that weren't necessarily ideal - despite those things, I still had an AMAZING time, got to meet some awesome artists and some even more fantastic people.

This year is going to be even better.

Get Lucky

This past week has been a blur of good decision making fun times with friends and tons - I mean tons - of good deals for me. I don't know how I've managed to have such good fortune as of late, but considering how different things were just over a week ago, I'm extra grateful and completely aware of how fast things can change in a small amount of time.

For example, on June 1st, I was pretty sure my life couldn't get much worse. I thought my story for my job had fallen through, had no idea where to go, then I found out that my apartment complex double charged me rent on top of other financial things that I had coming up and I wasn't getting paid until the coming Friday. In hindsight, which is always 20/20, I realize that while my anger/confusion was completely justified, it certainly wasn't the complete end of the world.

Then after making some very rational choices and finally calling for help (something I've always struggled with) things got better and then things got to be the best they could be with the entire situation being resolved without my bank account being cleared out.

Praise.

So, what else has been up? Well, Wednesday comes my oh-so-looking-forward-to-this-trip drive to Manchester, TN for my second go round at Bonnaroo, but because I'm on this whole let's be a grown up thing, I decided it was a good idea to get my car checked out.

Oh hey new expenses, what up?

It's almost time for an oil change, my air filter is considerably darker than it should be (and that's putting it lightly) and lo and behold, 3 of my tires are from 2008 - read as: you need to buy new tires because these ones probably won't be able to make the trip.

So now what? Well, since bargain hunting has turned into a thing for me, I went to work - and boy, oh boy, I got lucky. Long story short, I saved a bundle. Like...hundreds...saved...oh, glory. GLOR-RAY.

Anyway, this is a good news report for me and a reminder that so much can change in a short period of time. So often we get caught up in the right here, right now, we tend to never think about whether or not this thing no matter how big or small will matter in a month.

That being said, happy Monday - I'm saving money and I have a short work week! I'll try to post pictures from Bonnaroo throughout the week, but if I can't be sure to check out my Instagram for shots throughout the festival!

Preventative action.

I've never been especially proactive about going to the doctor, I'm one of those people who waits until a problem presents itself before I step foot into any office, for one, I don't have the money to do it and I don't have the time in my schedule.

I've had an issue with one of my teeth for longer than I'd like to admit - no pain, just a filling that came out. For months I used some mush that you can buy at CVS to "fix" the problem but after doing that a couple times, I just left it alone. It's never been a noticeable problem, more like a nuisance that I just became accustomed to; for example it became common practice to rinse my mouth after each and every meal to make sure no food was stuck in the gaping hole in the back my mouth. No one ever noticed because, I never really complained about it.

As I read that, it hits me that I use that same method for almost everything in my life. When I have a problem that's starting to stir me up, I tend to wait it out, to just push it to the back of my mind, put some temporary blockade up in an attempt to fix it.

The familiarity of sound

With summer starting to poke it's head through my curtains, I've gotten into the habit of leaving my windows open and blinds slightly cracked to catch the breeze - one of the many advantages of living so close to the beach, for all my complaints about how this area may never be a home to me, it certainly is a nice place for temporary dwelling when conditions are ideal - which is generally at least 7 months out of the year when the heat is just right and the humidity isn't out of control.

For the past few days, I've become accustomed to the sound of the fountain outside my apartment shutting off abruptly around 11 pm and then cranking on every morning at 7 am. It's a sound I never really noticed before, something that I honestly took for granted the last few months that was a big positive point when I first moved in, rather than having other apartments or woods to look at, I had the fountain, I had the sound of water to wake up to and then if I wasn't content with the sound, I only had a 15 minute walk to get to the beach.

I never realized how much sounds matter to me until I really began to concentrate on waiting for that 7 am waterfall to begin to flow, my indicator that it was truly time for me to get my day started if I hadn't already. Before, when I lived with my grandparents, I would laze about upstairs until I heard my grandmother making her breakfast: tea in the morning, with toast, and two hard boiled eggs.

It was like clockwork.

I knew that once I made my way down the stairs, I could expect to see her at the table in the kitchen, fully dressed for her day, newspaper laid flat where she would be working out the crossword puzzle and occasionally stealing glances out the window she faced while she sipped her morning brew.

Familiar like the sound of the garage door opening at our old home in North Carolina. Knowing that I could almost count down the seconds it would take for my mother or father to open the door and turn off the alarm.

It's little things, that move us forward like clockwork. It's the sound of my grandfather bellowing out through the house What up spook to my mother or to me, it's my mom jokingly telling my dad You're not the boss of me, you can't tell me what to do, with a scowl on her face before laughing.

It's hearing my own laugh and realizing just how much I sound like my own mother that went from being something scary to something comforting...the knowledge that even when we're far apart, that I can always have that as a reminder of where I came from.

It's the little things, the rhythm I've created at work when putting my stories to tape, the way that someone says something the same way every time, the staccato form our weekend weatherman says the news starts right now, while the evening weatherman almost sings it to viewers...it's sounds that we just learn.

I remember sitting up at night at my great grandmother's house in Philly and listening to the sounds of the street. Cars speeding, ambulances, firetrucks, police cars, all these sounds turning into a lullaby of sorts in the summer.

I remember the song my grandfather and I call ours...and listening to it almost always makes me cry because it reminds me just how close he and I are.

While there are plenty sounds that I love, a fresh rain storm, kids playing outside laughing, mothers cooing their children into submission, there's nothing that comforts more than the sounds that I know definitively; the things that never change that have become engraved in my being as a small nook to escape into when the world is so loud and I need some peace.

In recognition of the woman I'll never be.

A friend of mine recently went through a rebranding of sorts in all that she does. While the new her and the old her are similar in a lot of ways, especially her open and honest writing style, there are some things that have changed. I can look at her and see how this new focus has caused her to grow and develop, the changes have been incredibly positive in her life and it all started by being willing to distance herself from her comfort zone and taking a chance on being the full authentic her.

Needless to say, the people I truly consider my friends are some of the most inspiring people you would ever have the pleasure to meet - and obviously, they inspire and challenge me.

I've spent the past at least 4 of the past 6 years attempting to be something that I'm not - and frankly, I'm tired.

It wasn't until I cried for the second time this week in a conversation with a woman who is becoming less of an acquaintance and more of a friend, that I came to realize that sometimes to make things work out, to make things ideal, you have to compromise who you are - and for years I had tried.

I had tried in college to be the girl that hung out with all the cool kids, went out to the clubs, and was crazy. I indulged in my excess, it worked for a year until it backfired and in response I shut out everybody.

Or at least I tried.

Later, I would try to put on the face of the reformed. No drinking, no hanging out, being so cautious with my words, so protected with my thoughts, trying in vain to be someone else, someone I knew and admired and thought of as better than me.

I've only had 2 years where I truly felt like I was being true to myself and those were the years that I filled my life with poetry, music, writing, and what felt like sisterhood to the girls that lived on my floor at school. It was camaraderie, it was honesty, it was great.

I wonder if being an adult is just a series of compromises that we make to feel better about where we are in life. Do we change our personalities to make others more comfortable? And if so, how much do we change? Coming from a culture of being upfront and blunt about my feelings and being transported to a place where everything is fine and dandy and all about appearances is stifling, but today and for the rest of my life, I'm putting the mask down.

The things that make me who I am aren't bad, they're different. I'm a woman who loves to read and loves to talk, I'm loud and a bit impetuous. I sing, I dance, I scream, you can always tell when I come to work because my music is loud enough you can hear it before you can see my car, I eat all the time, and I love it. I love the little pieces that make up the bigger picture of who I am.

The hardest thing about trying to be something that you aren't isn't whether or not you succeed with deceiving the people around you, that's actually the easiest part, but the hardest part is understanding at your center that you haven't been authentic to yourself, that you're not free, that you've offered up only an empty shell of a person to those that you claim to be close to.

There's nothing wrong with being the person you are.

I guess after being around my friends that have seen me at my highs and lows, I'm realizing that being authentic is something that has to be valued. I know that not everyone deserves to see me in my full, and I also know that not everyone can handle me in my full, but those that can and do have always been the best. Tuesday I got a text from my friend that brightened my entire day:

I love you always. You're a bright light in my life. You're always welcome.

It was a short message with the most meaningful words that I could possibly receive. You're always welcome. Despite my crazy spells, my loud nature, my random decisions, and my general muchness, I was always welcome, and I know it wasn't just something she was saying for the hell of it. It was real.

I guess it was that message and several others that helped me to come to terms that I need to stop being a people-pleaser, I need to stop trying to make everyone a friend and realize that not everyone is meant to be a friend, that it's okay to not be liked, even without reason, and that the people who are worth my time, will be clear as day. Not everyone will accept me as I am, and while it may be a little late in the game to be willing to acknowledge this fact, I prefer getting it now versus never getting it at all.

Homeward bound

I don't think I've had a more genuine cry as I did on Sunday at 12:39 pm.

Every now and then, you have a moment that touches you to your core, that really stirs your heart and makes you think and Sunday at 12:39 pm, I had mine.

The Arnold family in all their glory before
I started a mini sob fest on the train.

This weekend I went to see my parents at their new home in Virginia, while there I saw one of my four sisters, grandparents on all sides, my aunts and cousins, and a handful of friends - and to say that I felt at home and in the right place would be a gross understatement. I was the happiest that I'd been over those 3 days than I had been in a long time. It wasn't a fleeting happiness either, it was a wake up in the morning and look forward to my day type of happiness that hasn't been present in my life so strongly for about a year.

I traveled, via car and two trains, from Panama City Beach to Manassas, VA, for about a full day and half both ways and it wasn't until my second trip, the one back to Florida that it hit me just how much I didn't want to come back to Florida.

There's something to be said about spending 6 years away from all your close family. It's one thing if you dislike your family or if you don't trust your family, but it's never been that way for me. My family has always been a rock for me, a part of my core. When I went away to college, I was fine, I could see them over the summer or over the winter break and they didn't seem so far away, but by the end of my freshman year, I was ready to drop out of UF, transfer to a new school, and leave the state behind. I don't know if I was desperate to get out of where I was or if I just needed a change, or if I thought running away was the answer. I've only been in one other situation in my life where I've truly wanted to leave somewhere and never come back, and that was when I maybe 10.

There's a small part of me that wishes that I had transferred out...but I know that the bargain that I made with myself and with God about my decision to stay had amazing results, and the people that became my second family, my children, my residents, became the things that kept me going...because I didn't want them to hate their new home as much as I did in that first year.

It wasn't until I was on a train watching my mom search for my face and having her stop - still unable to see me - and have her still be looking me dead in the eye that it hit me what I've missed so much.

The people I've met here have been some of the sweetest, most caring individuals you could ever find. They've let me into their homes, cooked for me, helped me when I was down and out with literally nothing but a deflated air mattress and a laptop...but for all their efforts to be there for me, they don't know me. No matter how much I may open up, they still won't completely understand who I am, where I came from, or what I'm really like - simply because they haven't seen me - and I miss that.

I miss intimacy - not a closeness to a person, but the lack of fear that when I'm exposed that I will still be loved and cared for, that I won't be looked at in shame or anger. It's a feeling I got when I started dancing with my family and caught my cousin taking blackmail worthy video, it's the feeling I got while sitting and drinking with a close friend that I hadn't seen in years, it's the feeling I got when sharing secrets about fears and being a grownup with my cousin...it's the exposure that I've tried to develop with people here that I simply don't seem to have the ability to facilitate.

I don't know if the reason I cried when I left Manassas was because I missed being near my family, I'm sure that it was a piece of bigger puzzle, but I think what I really missed was the comfort of being home despite being in an area I'd never been before. I missed being raw, honest, open and not being scared that I would turn people off to me - because these people have seen me at my worst and they didn't run away then.

I've come to accept that the phrase home is where the heart is isn't as much about love, but about feeling the freedom of intimacy and closeness, the ability to be open and honest with no fear of rejection. It's not something that can be grown just anywhere - it's in special friendships, special relationships that we turn from two people into a true love bond, and I hope that one day, whether I'm close to family or not, that I'm able to call someplace my home.

The effects of a simple change

It's not often that I listen or care too much about what a celebrity has to say. Generally speaking, their words don't hold much weight outside of their own circle of friends because they're opinions. However, I will say that if I do look to celebrities for inspiration, it's hardly ever from the ones that we see on the television screen today. They range from activists to directors, photographers to bloggers and, on occasion, an actress or two.

Over the past year, I've had 3 major hair changes - the third happening last Thursday. (I'm sure you know where I'm going with this post, but humor me - especially those of you that are friends with me on Facebook or Instagram, lol.) Years ago, Coco Chanel said something about changes like this:

A woman who cuts her hair is about to change her life.

Well. She was right.

I remember a few years ago when I basically cut all my hair off to sport a TWA (teeny weenie afro as we call it in the natural hair community) and I hated it at first, mostly because the local hair dresser was terrible. After I made my way back home, my original hair dresser fixed it, dyed it, and boom - after a few days, I was in love. It was freeing, it forced people to really see my face which sounds kinda crazy, but since I didn't have to deal with my hair so much, it just made it easier to notice me.

It made me notice myself…and I took a bit of pride in that, not in a bad way, but more of a healthy dose of self-love.

Fast forward to 2012, I started working as a reporter in Florida and my afro had grown quite a bit and everyone loved it…but eventually I came to terms that my best move professionally would be to make another change, so in November I went back to chemically straight hair. It was a welcome change, I mean, I could swish my hair from side to side, throw it in a ponytail, do spiral curls, all sorts of things, but after 6 months of ponytails, heat damage, and laziness on my part, I decided I needed to make a real change.

So I cut it.

And I felt like I did when I first went natural. Absolutely terrified, almost to the point of tears, when I saw the hair on the ground being swept up, followed by a feeling of joy and freedom when I looked in the mirror. No long bang, no morning frustration trying to figure out what the heck I was going to do with my hair, just easy, relaxed, with more time to do what I feel is important.

The past few days have had more reading, more music, more fun, and newly opened eyes to things I want in life - and it's obviously not just the result of an amazing haircut, but positive friends that encouraged me as I debated doing it before hand and built me up after wards.

The new look!

Smile Day

Fridays are made for smiling.

So here's what's making me smile this week.

Cute things that make me think about love and relationships.

"Two Chips" / An Animated Short from Adam Patch on Vimeo.

The Civil Wars doing…anything…but especially singing.

The Civil Wars :: Between the Bars from liveset on Vimeo.

Dancing in my apartment to this vinyl.

The end.

On faith and fear

"Faith is the substance of things unseen…and so is fear."

I had never thought of it that way, my grandfather has a special way of saying things that always come back to be so much more relevant than I ever realize and after a lovely morning conversation, those words (among many others) are still reverberating within my skull.

I've recently been in a fierce standoff with fear - and not just fear, but confidence in my abilities. I call it a standoff because it hasn't really been a fight, I've kinda let things happen and react to them rather than making things happen.

There's something about the uncertainty of the future that makes fears seem less like an unseen thing, but a definite. I know that fear has kept me from pursuing opportunities - I can recognize moments in time where I can't say a door was slammed in my face, I had simply looked at the door and walked by, too scared to knock because I was sure that the door would never open, that what was on the other side would be too much for me to handle, that I wouldn't be good enough, smart enough, that I wouldn't measure up to what the unknown people on the other side desired out of me.

It's a terrible way to go through life if I have to be completely honest, haha. Living at the mercy of unseen specters, sucking the joy out of your daily existence because you're so sure of something that you haven't even attempted. 

How many things have you not accomplished simply because you didn't try?

As I continued this conversation with my grandfather, that question began to bounce around my head. How many times had I killed a chance by simply not taking a risk?  It's crazy the logical reasons we can come up with to not pursue our purpose. It's not the right time… It's a bad economy, I have to take what I can get… I need more experience… when the truth of the matter is that we shut ourselves out for no reason. 

What's the worst that could happen? They say no. 

We seem to forget that life doesn't end there. If there's one thing this job I have now taught me, it's that no doesn't have to mean never. It just means not now. It doesn't mean to stop trying to reach that goal.

If every actor I knew stopped what they did because they heard a no, I wouldn't know many actors, lol. There's a beauty in rejection, there's beauty in continuing to fight for your life, your livelihood, your purpose, whatever it is that you love, you have to have some fight in you.

It all comes down to one thing: if I take a chance, believe in myself, I can't get discouraged by a no, but I can get discouraged if I allow my fear to stop me from asking a question, because nothing is more discouraging than letting fear - something that's all in your head - win.

Wisdom from Toronto

Happy Tuesday! If you're a normal person, you're almost halfway through the week, if you're me, or anyone with an abnormal schedule that is the same as mine (lol) today is your Thursday which gives Wednesday/Hump Day even MORE joy because it's my Friday.

I'm dancing in my seat.

Anyway, a couple years ago, I made my way to Toronto for one of my most memorable summer experiences yet, Caribana. While the memories there were spectacular (it seriously is something I must do again) it also brought a couple unexpected ah-ha moments in the form of an art display…and also in just the city itself.

The display was prints and quotes from Andrew Zuckerman's book, Wisdom. I don't remember where I was in Toronto at the time, but I am eternally grateful that I made the decision to walk into wherever I was and take in what was there for me to see. I have a few favorites (of course) but I had to share my top two with you.

I don't think there's anything more meaningful (aside from Scripture) to my life than these two things. The admission that the heart is what matters most of all (actually something that coincides with faith) and the idea that there are only two stages in life, growth or decay. Both of these things are applicable no matter where you are in life, the state of your heart will change everything in your life, what you value, what you care for, what you chase after, be it money or righteousness. The idea that standing still is decay is something that some people don't always want to recognize: becoming complacent, being absolutely satisfied with exactly where you are is almost the same as giving up - because there's always something more, whether it's getting better at your tasks or simply giving more of yourself to it or to others. There's always room for growth and the desire to see that happen in our lives separates those that achieve greatness in their life from those that will settle into their comfort zone.

As a final note: Toronto, you have my heart. I will have to come back, because any place that puts ads like this one on the walls is a place that I want to be. 

It's my hope that words of inspiration will soon be plastered all over the place. Words that encourage people to love one another, to give to one another, to care for their fellow man not expecting anything in return…to truly make man kind.

Have a happy day you guys - SMILE AT SOMEONE! 

An ode to my first home.

Humble beginnings, man I tell ya.

For me, moving into my first "home" or at least my first apartment was a big step. I've spent my entire life surrounded by people at basically all parts of my life and now, for a little over a year, I've been alone.

This weekend was one of the most stressful and emotional times I've experienced while living here. Who knew being alone could be so painful and lonely? Not me.

I've lived the majority of my life moving around, making new friends, and for some reason, I thought this move would be just like all the rest, a standard, pick up and go. I understood at my core that I wouldn't know anyone in the area, that it would basically be college all over again, but this was different than college all over again, because in college we're all alone, we're all starting somewhere new and while some of us came in with friends, many of us didn't know that many and we were all wide open for new people to invade our most private and precious spaces.

It's different now.

This home will be one of the hardest things to leave once it's time to go. Sure, it's a tiny one bedroom apartment, but it's my first place where I had to struggle with some inconvenient truths, like the fact that there is a whole lot of month when you're in your first job. That sometimes, the best thing you can do is sit on a couch and cry. That painting can be very therapeutic…and so can cooking when it comes out right.

In this apartment, I got a full grasp of the kindness of others. At least 2/3 of the things that are in my apartment were given to me and while the walls may be bare, the love that fills this place does so much more. In this apartment, I've had people come, pour out their hearts and grow close to one another, it's here that I truly learned compassion, it's here that I truly experienced transparency.

It was here that I cried out to God, screamed about life, fought with Him about what I believed and why I was here. Tried to uncover what I truly cared about and what I thought was right. It was here that He met me and taught me so much more about love and acceptance, mercy and faith. It was here that I recommitted, here that I sat and read my Bible and journaled. It was here that I changed.

This small tender space has seen me grow in ways that others couldn't. It's watched me learn how to organize my bills, clean, play guitar, and learn to live without…and to be content in that.

Home sweet home.

In my short 23 years of life, I've been unsure of many things. I wasn't positive that I would be able to do this, but I knew that I didn't have a choice and that when it came down to it, I would have to buck up and face the situations given to me. Moving to Panama City Beach with a laptop, a suitcase full of clothes, and an air mattress was one of the boldest moves of my life. It had one guarantee: an opportunity to follow my dream, but nothing else. It did not promise me friends that would be like family, it didn't promise me happiness, it didn't promise me fulfillment, it promised a chance…so I took it.

And for that Panama City Beach will always have a piece of my heart.

The beauty of muchness

Happy, happy Friday. What a week it has been, full of calm moments and a couple incredibly exciting ones that I hope to be able to write about later, but as it stands, the timing simply isn't right! However there are some things that simply cannot be held under wraps forever…one of them being the most charming of mentors that I've gained while living in Panama City Beach: Ms. Eugenia - henceforth and forever more known as Mama E.

Last night over homemade tortilla soup garnished with Cooler Ranch Doritos and shredded cheese we talked about any and everything before I had a miniature revelation about my nature.

I have an adorable amount of muchness in my 5'7" frame. The term, muchness made popular by Alice in Wonderland has been defined officially by another blogger as this:

The innocence and imagination that appears in the hearts of young children. As the children grow older, they become more mature and gain responsibilities.

 

What exactly does it mean to lose your muchness? Is it simply growing older and losing who you were as a child? Is it coming to terms that reality isn't as great as we thought it would be when we originally said we couldn't wait to be grown-ups? I don't know what expectations I had as a child, I knew I wanted to be great, I knew I wanted to have a distinct effect on the world, but most importantly, I never wanted to lose my heart. I never wanted to lose my compassion for people, because even at a young age, I knew of the importance of giving to others and loving them with all you had.

As I've said multiple times (I'm pretty sure I mentioned it yesterday now that I think about it) my job has given me the opportunity of a lifetime: to spend my days meeting people, traveling, writing, and, most importantly, learning. For that reason - truthfully just that last one is enough - I have maintained my muchness, kept it at a distinct level of childlike wonder because there is always so much more to learn.

When Alice went back down the rabbit hole a second time, the Mad Hatter makes it very clear that she is not as she once was, she has changed and in that change she has lost the ability to fulfill her purpose. Every now and then, I wonder if I've dialed back my muchness, if I've lost important qualities that made me who I was a child. I believe that a big part of my muchness growing up was found in hope and being an adult has stripped away some of my naive beliefs about the world, the things I learn many times has caused me to lose faith in the goodness of people. Thankfully, over the past year, I've met a number of individuals that have shown me despite the uglies in the world, there is still many desirable things that breed positivity in this world.

Honestly, it's a scary thought, growing older and losing the very essence of who you were, or who you are. So, I've decided on my days off to explore my muchness…to go on adventures, to explore and be as childlike as possible because, if I were to lose all my muchness, I would lose a ginormous part of me…and it's a part that I don't think I ever want to be without!

Life comes at you fast

This is me in a state of bliss. No, seriously. I love my job.

You know what insanity is? Realizing that in 5 days, you'll officially be two years out of college, in your dream job, living on the beach. Honestly, it's the best kind of insanity there is out there and every day I sit back and thank God for the blessing of being where I am in life.

I know I talk about how thankful I am for the opportunities I have, how grateful I am for a chance to learn every day at my job, to not be stuck behind a desk 8 hours of the day, but sometimes I really have to let it truly sink in that I have the best job on the planet for me.

However, like I've said in that past, there are some definite downsides to this and one of those downsides came up in the struggle of covering the Boston Marathon bombings.

Breaking news is a big deal in so many ways to people who watch the news but even more so for those that "make" the news. The world we live in is so different than it ever was and I'm still waiting for television news to figure out it's place with the scope of what viewers expect changing so much.

The other day I had a gchat conversation with a friend of mine who said he didn't understand why reporters from CNN didn't get any closer to where police were. Earlier last week, I had another friend comment on how slow television stations were at reporting the facts and how he get most of his information from blogs and Reddit on the tragic situation. Then another friend made her own statements about how the news is potentially putting our police officers in danger for reporting things they're hearing over the scanners and whatnot.

Okay.

First, reporting things heard over the scanners is just a huge no. There's that. There's no if's, and's, or but's about that. Period.

Now that that's out the way, I feel like it's important for my industry to take a step back and look at everything that happened wrong in our coverage. I've learned that as much as I want to be first on a story, it's 1 MILLION TIMES more important to be accurate…but how do we reconcile that in a time when many of our viewers think they're entitled to information?

Well…I have one opinion to the whole thing. Viewers are entitled to one thing and one thing only: facts. As a reporter my job isn't to speculate, it's not to make assumptions about anything, but to investigate and get to the bottom of the issue. There's a reason reporters prefer to get emotional sound bites from people versus facts: we can say the facts, I'm not here to represent my subject's feelings, plain and simple.

You can't compare television news to a blog because, generally speaking, most people spouting things off on the Internet aren't triple checking their sources for accuracy. We aren't one in the same, so - to all my friends asking us to stoop to that level - well, you see how that ends up. To my other friend that suggested we get closer, well…after being told by police for lesser stories to back up from a scene or move further away from a location - for my own safety - I will just say: no.

My job isn't to change my standards for reporting to satisfy the viewer. My job is to get facts from multiple sources...or better yet, get the source saying it on camera to attribute what's being said, that way it doesn't blow up in my face should it be wrong.

If CNN had been right with their exclusive report, everyone would know and everyone would probably move on from it, but because they were wrong, it won't go away so easily; people may not remember who reported it first, but they will remember who reported it wrong.

Choosing your battles

Every day has it's own challenges.

I promise, this is one of the first things that goes through my mind as I type in the code to go into work every single day, that every day has it's separate challenge and they will come in various forms. One day it may be a confrontation with a coworker, the next it could just be a story that doesn't have many visual elements, and other days it's just a lack of motivation…but the most important thing that I have to try and focus on is that each day will have it's own battle so dragging my feelings about former battles rather than picking up the lessons along the way will do nothing to help in the fight.

Breathe in, breathe out.

The beauty of not letting every tiny fight turn into a big one that becomes a burden is simple: you live better. You're happier and have a tendency to be more aware of what's going on around you and what situations to simply avoid.

I have a problem with picking my battles wisely because I have an even more annoying problem with wanting to be right. It's not so much that I want to be right for gloating or to make someone else wrong, but I want to be right because I don't like being in the wrong. I'm almost positive I can find a way to justify any action that I take, and while some days I can be honest and say the action - or lack of action - was because I wasn't didn't do what I should have done, other days, I have a reason…and frankly, my reasons are generally pretty logical, but if there's one thing I've learned from working in news: logic doesn't always win.

Crazy. I know.

Sometimes protocol is more important than anything else and while it may not seem to be the best, it's not the worker bee's call to make. I'm learning more and more every day and it seems that being a worker bee has never been my strong suit, that said I don't think it has to be for me to be successful, I believe being creative is an important asset to have in your back pocket, but when your creativity gets in the way of your productivity, that's never a positive, and then maybe you've got to reevaluate your priorities.

You live and you learn, oh Alanis Morissette, how you do speak the truth on this warm, sunny morning.

P.S. Jagged Little Pill was/is and probably always will be one of my favorite albums and has been since 1995 - let's not talk about a 6 year old singing "All I Really Want" like it's a life anthem.

Catch up!

Ahh, it's been over a week since I last posted. Life has been so intense this past week, a lot of work with everything that happened in Boston, a lot of change, a few revelations that have put me on track for some immense personal growth, a newly clean apartment (if you've ever been inside my apartment you need to come back - no seriously, it's that clean) and a lot of getting my life together - at least getting organized.

So what has the past week been in a nutshell?

Police car rides.
Perks of Being a Wallflower. (#Redbox52 coming on that soon)
Netflix - which means House of Cards.
Cooking.
Motorcycles.
Jazz/Cajun/Parrothead Festival.
Jurassic Park in 3D.
Brunch.
Prayer.

And what have I learned?

The best thing to do with a moment isn't to try and capture it, it's to grow in it, revel in it, embrace it, live it. Too often we get so caught up trying to get something on film for Instagram or Vine or Twitter or Facebook or Tumblr - or here - that we miss out. Obviously it's not just that, I mean, I don't think there's ever been a photo taken that truly captures the joy of a moment unless it's taken at the perfect moment and those moments can be so hard to catch.

That being said, I'm taking a challenge to stay off of Facebook and Twitter for at least a month. Twitter won't be so hard, Facebook is a major time waster and so addictive (I mean, I have to see so-and-so's wedding photos and this couple just had a baby and I love reliving college through my former resident's current adventures!) but sometimes you need to take a step back.

Maybe it's just me, but I have a major perception issue sometimes. I seem to forget that when I'm on a social network, more likely than not, it's because I'm bored…and don't you know, when you're bored at work and all you're seeing are pictures of someone's awesome honeymoon or their late spring break getaway, it's very easy to get disenchanted with whatever it is that you're doing.

So, in order to have a more perfect outlook, I'm catching up on my life by tuning out the chatter of everyone else's.

If I need to know what's going on in someone's life, the best thing to do is probably make a phone call anyway!

Happy Tuesday y'all.

Tackling the "Accidental Racist"

Alright. I'm going to be completely frank when I say this: I enjoy country music. I do. It's a recent thing that happened when I moved to the Panhandle. I'd also like to add that this song is a very good representation of everything this area represents to me - don't let our sandy white beaches fool you! While spring break and summer vacation bring my dearly beloved northerners to this area, the vast majority of the people who live here are alllllll about southern pride.

If you haven't heard the song, you can listen to it here.

Now I can tell you that if Brad Paisley had done this song by himself...it would be a hit. IT WOULD. Country music has a reputation of saying whatever it wants just as brashly as rap or R&B, but they do it in a way that makes their listeners smile. While Miguel might sing "How Many Drinks" in his song, Joe Nichols will put it - jokingly of course - as "Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off," you see what I mean? It's all the same, they're just better at making it sound nice and not predatory.

The basic thing to remember with country music is that these musicians get away with a lot. I mean...have you heard Jason Aldean rap? It's painful...but once he starts to sing, I can forgive his completely idiotic decision to even attempt to rap.

So...about this song.

This is not the first song to tackle "southern pride" realistically, if Paisley had set out to just make the contemporary southern white man's anthem, this would be it. You would hear guys in cowboy boots and ten gallon hats telling their black friends that "Paisley gets them," more likely than not. How do I know that? Because while everyone that I'm friends with in the black community is up in arms, I've heard quite a few people that are actually happy to hear it right in Bay County.

Paisley takes an incredibly huge topic and boils it down into a song that, without LL Cool J, would probably just be background music...but then he added LL Cool J to the mix...and that is where the problem started.

Whether it's LL's terrible rapping or his off the cuff "adlibs" and rap lyrics, the song, already destined to make plenty of people cringe, goes on a downward spiral and doesn't stop.

I want you to get paid but be a slave I never could
Feel like a new fangled Django, dodging invisible white hoods 

RIP Robert E. Lee but I've gotta thank Abraham Lincoln for freeing me, know what I mean 

If you don't judge my do-rag, I won't judge your red flag.
If you don't judge my gold chains, I'll forget the iron chains.

There aren't words that I could use to describe just how...I literally, I can't come up with words to describe how I feel about LL Cool J's participation in this. It's a situation where, I'm at the intersection of complete-and-utter-shock and absolute confusion.

WHO TOLD YOU THIS WAS A GOOD MOVE LL?
WHO LIED TO YOU AND HATES YOU SO MUCH?

Whether its just the fact that he's a terrible rapper or the way he took something so big and turned it into...I don't even know what to call it. All I can say is the minute I heard him start talking, I wanted it to end. It being, the song, his career, his participation in music as a whole, his acting career too...I don't understand. To take something this big and trivialize it, make it into a punchline...I'm lost.

Is Paisley to blame? Of course he is...it's his song, but that's country music for you - they're out here telling stories and whatnot and that's just how they work...but this new operation with all this hip-hop coming into play is not working. I'm not sure if it ever will, but if this is a sign of the times to come, I'm not pleased. The thing is, Paisley is speaking how he feels: if I were to tell you how many times I've had the conversation with someone from my church or in the community about the "red flag" and what it represents to them, I'm sure my black friends would recoil in horror, the same way I did when I used to see it plastered to back of pickup trucks in high school.

This is nothing new.

While it represents one thing to me, it represents something very different to them and while we will probably never see eye to eye on this, whatever Paisley and LL were trying to cook up to start the conversation was a bad move.

What do you think of "Accidental Racist" - am I being too critical?

Hump day happiness

Welcome to Wednesday! One of the best days of the week, if only because it reminds you that you're halfway through it, haha. I'm loving what I did last week on Wednesday, taking a breather, so let's get to it!

This week has been such an odd one with my schedule being all weird, but hey - I've got plenty to smile about and as my grandfather always says when I ask how he's doing: "I could complain, but what's the point of that?"

For now, here are the things bringing some major joy into my life right now.

1. If you follow me on Instagram, then you've seen this little beauty of mine! Yesterday I got my Crosley USB turntable and as excited as I was to get it, it also came with a twinge of disappointment since the needle was broken. Thankfully, Crosley has nice customer service and blahblahblah so I will be listening to that lovely record next week! Until then, I'll just bask in the wonderfulness of having the record player and a couple good things to look forward to next week.

2. This kinda ties in with the first one - I mean, duh - but Donna Summer was everything and a half. I'm so excited to finally be able to play this and after getting off the phone with my grandmother, I should be able to snag a few more awesome records for myself sooner than later.

3. Okay. This CD isn't new...but I recently got addicted to Two Door Cinema Club and Tourist History is honestly summer in audio form for me. I'm not even playing. I won't say how many times I've listened to this or how loud...but it would suffice to say that I'm sure my neighbors want to hit me. And I'm okay with that.

4. Look at that sunset. No seriously. Whenever my week is going sour, the best thing to do is just look at the sky because things like this blow my mind every time. The colors are just...I can't even tell you how happy I was to just snag this with my iPhone. I smile just looking at it.

5. Everyone has their favorite apps on the iPhone and personally, Solar is my favorite weather app because it's just so pretty. Really, it's all about aesthetics with this and just having it on my phone takes me to a calm place. Doesn't hurt that I got it for free either - normally it's paid! - so check it out if you're tired of the same ol' same weather apps.

6. On a limb I tried this Sambazon acai with blueberry and pomegranate. Umm, HELLO JOY. I need to grab more of this stuff so I can use it in my smoothies. I was sick the latter part of last week and I'm not saying this had anything to do with it, but I'm sure this combined with Mucinex and OJ certainly helped my cause since the workplace wasn't letting me have any extra days off!

So there you have it, my happy hump day! What's bringing smiles to your face this week? Share the joy! ;)

#Redbox52: The problem with feelings

Ahhh! Happy Monday! I hope that everyone's week is going well. Normally, Monday is my day off, but now that we have a couple people that have moved on to new television stations (one to Fort Myers, the other to Orlando - gonna miss 'em so much!) things have gotten a bit shaken up. Not to worry though, I'm working better than ever and happier in the past few weeks than I've been in a long time.

So, onto this week's #Redbox52, Killing The Softly:

First thoughts: good movie - a taaaad bit violent, but since I don't mind violence, it's alright by me. I can definitely say the best thing about this movie is the intentional use of news footage from the financial crisis of 2008 - it was literally brilliant. 

Or maybe I'm so used to movies just doing their own thing that when I see something done well, it just blows me away.

Anyway, it was a lot of fun to watch. The clips that were used were always placed against a scene that directly related to what was being said, I love that.

There was a lot of interesting dialogue in the movie and for some people that was a setback, but there were a few interactions that really got me going, one in particular was between Driver (Richard Jenkins) who works with the mafia as a middle man of sorts and Jackie Cogan (Brad Pitt) who is a hitman.

They're discussing a hit that needs to be made and Cogan goes into why he doesn't want to hit a particular target and gives a better understanding of the title of the movie.

"I like to kill them softly, from a distance, not close enough for feelings. Don't like feelings. Don't want to think about them."

It caught me off guard a bit once I understood what killing someone "softly" actually meant. After thinking it over, it brought to mind various interactions I had in the past with people on social networks, from Tumblr to Twitter, one of the great things was that you're able to make a connection with people, getting a glimpse into whatever parts of their life they're willing to expose.

The downside, of course, is that depending on what you put out there, you also are opening yourself up to a lot of criticism. In fact, I would go off on a limb and say that most interactions online whether it's commentary on a show or on an event happening in someone's life, what a celebrity is wearing or something happening in the news, since we don't directly know the people we can say whatever we want to, often without feeling any sort of remorse.

As someone who works in the news industry, one of my biggest fears is that one day, I will stop being able to relate to people, that I will eventually get desensitized to it all. Just yesterday I did a story about a 7-year-old who was mauled by 2 pitbull mix breeds that died and another story on a 90-year-old man who was murdered. A former coworker of mine once told me that one of the things that haunts him is the fact that when he would drive around town, the first thing he would remember is the stories he had done.

I drove around town a few weeks ago and realized, I was the same way. On one corner, a homeless person was found dead, on another, a manhunt for a robber that had guns and was taken down by dogs. It breaks my heart a little bit to think about how in just a matter of 1 year, I covered 3 or 4 stories about teenagers dying behind the wheel, far too many memorial services for young people who hadn't even gotten a chance to get to college, to live their lives to what we considered a full extent.

It hurts. On one hand, as a reporter, I don't want to relate, I don't want to have feelings about my stories because God knows they would haunt me...but on the other, to not have some sort of feeling about it all would make me less than a human. I don't know how reporters in the field, covering wars, genocide, sex slavery - it's one thing to do a long form documentary on it, but in news, it's often that you cover something for a day or two and then it's on to the next thing, no follow up, no seeing how things go later in life. It's a hard balance because if we stayed on one thing too long, the sad truth, is that most people wouldn't care...and I think that's probably what hurts the most.

#6wordpoems: there is beauty in being succinct

Last night, writer/poet/rapper/producer/teacher/amaze-balls-man (my personal opinion) Rafael Casal issued a challenge to his followers on Twitter and friends on Facebook and Instagram.

Write a 6 word poem.

Some people wrote phrases, made jokes, others really got to the heart of things. I decided I wanted to contribute as well.

"I am where He wants me." That was my 6 word poem and as I hit send it struck me how meaningful that phrase was to my life because it wasn't just a few words that made a good little poem, but it was a mentality that would be able to hold me afloat until it's time to move on to the next thing.

I am where He wants me.

The first time I heard the phrase was from my grandfather, it stuck with me. The idea that while I may not be completely happy with where I am, there was a reason that I wasn't moving, there was something I was supposed to be getting out of this. 

Graduating from college and not getting a job that I wanted for 9 months was a struggle for me. I debated quitting, going back into retail, or switching from a position in front of the camera to one behind it - and truthfully there was nothing wrong with any of those options had I ended up going with them, but there was a reason that I had to take some time to get to where I wanted while some of my friends seemed to get scooped up into their dream jobs much faster than I ever dreamed.

I am where He wants me.

It's a hard phrase to really live out sometimes. It's something I've gotten into the habit of saying whenever I get anxious about where I am or start to feel some pangs of jealousy that I'm not at my next thing yet. I've always been a bit preoccupied with my future and this phrase forces me to stop trying to envision what it is to come and focus on where I am now.

One of my close friends and I were having a conversation recently and he brought up being unhappy at his job - however, he wasn't unhappy because the job itself was bad, he was unhappy because of the attitude of his coworkers and management:

It's so metric driven and everyone is working for the next role, not to make sure the role they are in now is self-sustaining.

It was an interesting observation in a field that was completely the opposite of my own though we faced the same problems. It made me wonder what would happen if everyone stopped and made the decision to be the best at their current position, understanding that once they mastered it, they would have the ability to move on to something new, but in that moment, in that day, in that month, in that year - focus on doing the best they possibly could with what they had right then.

It really was a way of mastering the phrase in my work place. Now, I'm learning - slowly but surely - to live out this 6 word poem in every part of my life.

What are some 6 word poems, or really any phrases, that you found are good to live by? Leave 'em here!

Taking a breather

There are many topics that I would like to approach today, good and bad. From the 10 and 11 year old that planned to murder and rape a classmate to the Maverick's owner saying he would consider putting Brittney Griner on his team to even the most basic subject matter, like why I can't stand self-proclaimed "nice" guys.

Those will be discussed later...because today I need to breathe. Today, I would like to relax and pretend there aren't so many bad things happening, pretend that this accomplishment doesn't come on the heels of so much criticism of a young lady who is incredibly talented, and pretend that guys that are nice don't actually act nice to get things they don't deserve in return.

Today, I'm taking a selfish moment to be happy about a small investment I made that has given me peace, a new way to look at things, and a new appreciation of time and priorities.

Bella, sweet, sweet, lovely, Bella.

Bella is a Canon AE-1 that I got last week at a random garage sale type deal that was held in the building we've been having church. For $20 I got the camera body + 3 lens + 3 filters + a nifty bag + an attachable flash.

TWENTY DOLLARS. And it ALL works.

After blowing through my first roll of film, I realized that this camera taught me a very important lesson that digital photography made easy to forget: capture memorable moments. It seems dumb, but with a digital camera you have a million chances to get the right shot, to pick it apart and try again over and over and over, with a film camera, you don't have that same chance.

It's funny, with 24 exposures, it's like being given a full day and you have only those 24 hours to fill with whatever it is, but once that time is up - it's done. I don't know, sometimes it's the little random things like that that really rattle you, make you take the time to really take your time. 

All that being said, I hope you have a productive day...that you're able to see past all the bad in the world and try to contribute some good rather then simply focusing on your own good...because the world can always use some more of that.

#Redbox 52: Marry for love?

There are few things that are good about being sick...but if I had to pick one, it is being forced (for the most part) to stay home and stay warm and do what you like. For me, that has included, eating healthy, reading books, taking baths, and watching movies.

Today's Redbox 52 takes a strong look at love and marriage and fidelity and forgiveness.

Anna Karenina looks at several different types of love, dutiful love, forbidden love, maternal love, enduring love, and, of course, romantic love. Sadly, only two of these loves comes out a true winner in the end, and that's romantic love combined with enduring love, but boy oh boy, watching it all play out before your eyes sure is beautiful.

If there was one thing this movie made me think about, it was the reasons we choose to get married.

When I was younger, a family member told me marrying for love was foolish because love can fade when certain things change and that the smart thing to do was to marry someone you could work with. As unromantic as that sounds, I understand what they meant. Too often we see people rushing to jump the broom because they're severely infatuated with someone, they don't necessarily know them and they have a bunch of qualities that aren't that great, but they're in "love" so they get married.

While I see marriages that start like that usually end in unhappiness, I still believe in marrying for love as long as the love is also matched with common goals and the desire to make the relationship work.

In Anna Karenina we see several couples, many have married as a way to move up in their social status or simply to maintain it. For most, the marriages are loveless aside from their children. You see affairs as characters go in and out to try and fill a void they had hoped to have managed through their union. With Anna's character, she is content in her marriage, though she knows she did not marry for love, however her husband is noble and kind, with a good head on his shoulders and a career that can sustain the both of them, for most, the ideal man to marry.

However, she soon finds herself caught in a different type of situation, a love that starts with an obsession and then grows to an addiction, and as most addictions go, it ends badly. In the movie, the topic of infidelity comes up several times, but my favorite quote is from a man who believes desperately in true, virtuous love.

"An impure love is not love to me. To admire another man's wife is a pleasant thing, but sensual desires indulged for its own sake is greed, a kind of gluttony, and a misuse of something sacred, which is given to us so that we may choose the one person with whom to fulfill our humanness."

As I said, I believe in marrying for love. I'm a staunch believer in romantic love, true love; I believe it comes with time and with work, but that two people, committed to growing together can make it work. That is why romantic + enduring love will always come out a winner, whether in fiction or in our day to day lives...call me crazy but I believe it.

If you've watched the movie, or read the book - which I plan to do - tell me what you think! And when it comes to love, what are the things that you believe make it work? Would you marry for love or are other factors more important?

The beauty of a new view

I have been fortunate to work with a bunch of crazy talented people in my day, but one of the most awesome individuals that I've run across is Shannon Boodram.

A couple years ago, I interned under Shannon and her friend Andrea on their shared website. The experience was great and to this day, I'm grateful that I got the chance to work with both of them, but because I was on my way to becoming a reporter, I wanted to focus on writing, so I worked hard to establish a bond with her.

I was reading her blog and she posted something I really tacked on to that also matched with my last blog on the journey into adulthood.

"I am a firm believer that in today’s day and age too many people believe that pursuing their dreams and patience are opposites. On the contraire it’s called common sense. If you want to be an actor but you have no money, no connections, no support and no stability maybe now isn’t the best time for your dreams. What you need is to do your due preparation to give yourself a fighting chance at eventually pursuing your dreams." (Reinvent Your Wheels) 

Reading that was automatically easy to identify with because I felt like it was the path that I had taken since beginning my career in television as a production assistant in Philadelphia. I used my 9 months between graduating and getting my first reporting job to build connections, work on my reel, and try to soak up as much as I possibly could so that when the time came to make this big transition, I could.

My generation is one that has big dreams. Many of us have these ideas in our head for what we want to do with our lives, but we simply haven't sat down to plan in a realistic manner, so when things come crashing down we get frustrated. Even worse sometimes is when things magically begin to fall into place prematurely, because nothing hurts more than investing so much in something just to have it fail miserably because you weren't ready.

I have had quite a few ups and downs in my current job, but reading her blog reminded me of the ups and downs at my old job. Though they weren't as numerous, I also have to take into account that I was a part-time employee, simply eager to get my foot in the door - now I'm in the big leagues, but I'm paying my dues to get where I want to be, so it's not that I'm doing anything wrong, I'm simply preparing for my future and if things keep progressing as they have when I put my hard work into it, then I have a lot to look forward to in the next year, so here's to going hard with what I got and making the most of every situation! It reminds me of one of my favorite Latin proverbs: Amat victoria curam - which means literally, victory loves carefulness, but as one of my adored movies puts it, victory loves preparation.

What are some changes you plan to make to achieve to your next big goal?

Good, Bad, Ugly: How do you adult?

I've had an amazing March. I've seen family and friends, went on vacation, ate good food for free, had some awkward and hilarious encounters, and got some amazeballs gear...but I also got some insight.

This month (like almost every month since graduating college) has re-taught me multiple lessons. Things that I thought I had mastered, I saw turned on their head which in turn made me have to react a bit differently.

One of my closest friends since graduation made her way to PCB this weekend and we had a long chat with one of our mutual reporter friends about how difficult the transition to adult life is.

"I mean, how do you adult?" DP said while we laughed over wine and beer.

It's a question we ended up mulling over for a couple hours, at first complaining about how little we truly knew about being an adult, then blaming our parents for not telling us more than "you better enjoy your youth while you have it" and how college would be the "best four years of our life," finally we came to an agreement that it's just something that you grow into, though some of us were doing better than others.

#Redbox52: One for all

It took me a week - a full week - to watch this week's movie, which is why the review is coming on a Thursday versus Monday. So...this week's movie:

I can't really explain why this movie took so long for me to watch, it wasn't just that it clocked in at almost 3 hours, it wasn't that it was a boring or a dry movie, and it's not that the topic matter wasn't compelling, but it was painful to watch.

Coming from a military family, the events of September 11th and the aftermath hurt. No other way to put it. My father is currently a Lt. Col. in the Army and now works in one of the big buildings and if something like this were to happen again...I don't think I would ever want to think about something like that.

I remember when this movie first was advertised being incredibly pissed off that someone would make a movie about it in the first place. I was frustrated, disgusted, aggravated that they would take something like this and make it into entertainment: but the truth of the matter is that's just what Hollywood does. They take things, often times things we don't necessarily wish to bring up in everyday conversation and make it a topic again.

The first hour or so, or at least the first bit I watched, made me not want to watch the entire thing. Seeing torture is not something that I enjoy, but as I continued to sit through all the pieces of the movie, bit by bit, I began to enjoy it more.

The characters, watching them go through the motions of dealing with what was happening, the obvious stress of not knowing whether or not you were going to accomplish your mission, the constant doubts, the constant setbacks, all leading up to one triumphant moment, the story we all thought we knew so well.

Overall, I enjoyed the movie. It felt good to watch it, felt incredible to have a woman be the person that figured it out, that had the heart to go with her gut at all times, to follow something with a steadfast endurance that the movie couldn't even fully capture if we were to be honest.

I mean - tell me - when was the last time you dedicated every aspect of your life for nearly a decade to one thing and one thing only? I can't think of anything that I've even dedicated to fully for a year

All that being said, watching this movie wasn't easy...watching this movie hurt, because in the process, I found myself seeing things from an interesting perspective.

There's a scene where the main character, Maya, is attacked. A couple of guys try to shoot up her car, kill her, and they're unsuccessful. It made me think about how things are framed because to us, she's a hero, but to them she's a threat to their life - a terrorist. I always stop and wonder how we as a country are perceived by outsiders. Are we these terrible people that constantly invade in places we don't belong? Are we people with good intentions? Or are we simply the enemy?

I let the thoughts go and continued on with my day, and eventually the movie, but now I can't help but think about this in personal terms: how we always see ourselves as the hero but never as the antagonist.

Anyway, if you haven't seen the movie, I suggest you do. It's interesting, insightful, and opens your eyes to not just what happened that day, but how much was lost and learned along the way.

#Redbox 52: Power of friendship

I'm so happy that I made the choice to do this whole, movie thing, because I'm getting to see movies I never would have seen otherwise. For example, this week's movie:

The Intouchables is a French comedy-drama that became the second biggest box office hit in France and voted the cultural event of 2011 - to put it simply, it was quite a big deal...and to think I almost passed it over to pick The Sessions, d'ah well, thank you dear CVS employees for casually helping me make this decision: it was a good one.

It isn't hard to find stories that embody friendship, but this bond is one that is rather peculiar. For some critics, the movie bears an extreme resemblance to Driving Miss Daisy and while I can understand the comparisons, I think it's a bit deeper than that.

 The story begins at present day but then jumps to a flashback to explain how the two characters, Phillipe and Driss, ended up together. As the story progresses you get to see how the two become friends with quick wit, constantly jabbing at one another, and growing together. Driss develops a better understanding of art, picks ups painting, and Phillipe learns how to truly appreciate music, the feelings it can bring forth. However, as great as it is to see the characters open up and grow, my favorite parts of the movie are the simple acts of tenderness that push it forward.

Vacation all I ever wanted.

One of the first things I celebrated in January was one year on the job which meant getting 10 glorious days of vacation - which meant I was using them as best I could. This week, I finally got a chance to start enjoying my earned time - and Lord knows I needed it.

Indian Shores

I've spent the past 3 days between Indian Shores and Clearwater - all of 20 to 30 minutes apart - with my grandparents. I haven't seen them in 13 months and this has to be one of the most relaxing times I've had as of late, watching the sunset from the condo, finishing 2 books, eating yummy food and seeing the Phillies...lose, ahh well, you can't win 'em all.

That said, being with my grandparents has been one of the biggest pleasures I've experienced in a long time. No one has the ability to make me laugh like they do and to hear them talk about the past just blows me away.

This trip carried conversations that breached all sorts of topics, but lingered on talks pertaining to love and my career - both topics I'm incredibly passionate about. While the love talk was more in jest, the career one took a turn for the more serious as we discussed what I want for my life.

My grandfather worked in the journalism industry 39 years for money and many more just for the privilege of it. Before I got in the industry, I talked to him about it, the challenges of the world and how to best put it and this weekend he explained it in a different way.

One of the most frustrating things about working in news is the limiting nature of it all. I was looking at the skeleton of a 30 minute show and realized that when you take into account the 4 minutes of sports and various breaks for weather and obviously the commercials that pay the bills, the news is literally 8 minutes.

Eight minutes.

All of the news of the day boiled down to 8 measly minutes.

I began complaining to him about it, how things would be so much easier if there was just more time and he told me the same thing he always told his students, "if you can't explain your story in one sentence, you don't know your story." As our talk continued, we began to break down things about how things have changed in the media, how technology has moved things forward and my grandfather brought things to a different perspective.

In the beginning was the Word.

That was it, it was his way of explaining the importance of words. As we stayed on that topic we delved into how there would never quite be enough time and the importance of measuring our words and it got me thinking about, well, words...being concise, learning how to express myself fully - so I decided to use his words as a challenge. A challenge to make sure all of my words are what I meant through and through.

So I issue the same challenge to you!

#Redbox52: Feel like a hero

I've decided to call this movie thing I'm doing the Redbox 52 since every movie I'm reviewing will be a new release from the Redbox. So, what was today's movie...

Normally when I think of police movies or a lot of different action movies, I assume that the plot will be lackluster, the acting will be meh and I'm really in it for the bangs. 

This movie was not that.

I was floored by the movie because it was really, really good. I enjoyed the dialogue between characters, the relationships that you saw grow, and found myself getting almost teary eyed as I finished it up.

What made this movie great was that it didn't focus on all the different relationships in the movie, it focused primarily on the partnership between police officers Brian Taylor and Miguel Zavala. We see these two characters go through plenty together and watch their bond as brothers on the force grow. 

That in and of itself was probably the most surprising thing about this film. When I put the movie in, I wasn't expecting to be blown away, I was expecting to see a cop movie where the good guys win, the bad guys go down, car chases, gun fights, the whole 9 yards, and to an extent I got that, but on top of that I got a story of two men going through it.

There are plenty of laughs and the ability to watch the characters grow in their personal relationships as they go through different stages in their life.

Behind my badge is a heart like yours. I bleed, I think, I love, and yes I can be killed. And although I am but one man, I have thousands of brothers and sisters who are the same as me.

The movie starts with a monologue from Brian Taylor and it tugged at my heart strings. Working in news has caused me to meet a lot of police officers which ultimately means that I associate each of the characters with real people. So of course, I had to call them up to see how they felt about the movie and admit that yes I did cry when blahblahblahnotgoingtoruinitblahblahblah happened or I laughed extra hard when soandso said suchandsuchathing...but more importantly, it made me appreciate what they do  and the sacrifices they make every day.

Anyway, the movie is good, especially as someone who doesn't believe in this whole screw the police mentality, it lets you see things from their perspective...I definitely would recommend it to any and everyone.