It’s probably a little odd, but there is a stack of newspapers on my kitchen table that I go through and edit, whenever I feel like it or whenever I have a chance. The point? Just for myself, and just to learn. It gives me an opportunity to look up CP rules that I wouldn’t otherwise, or exposes me to a layout I wouldn’t have created myself. Continue reading
It’s a little bit of a cop-out, but the reason I haven’t been blogging lately is because there’s a lot going on right now that I either don’t want to talk about or can’t talk about. (That said, if you want to ask me something personally, go for it. I may hem and haw but I rarely avoid direct questions.)
My Twitter favourites and Google Reader is getting pretty backlogged though, and at first I thought about just going through and tweeting a bunch of interesting links, but maybe a short note on this will suffice. Continue reading
It’s been a long time since I’ve had a normal sleep schedule. In high school, I went to a school that was out-of-district and thus an hour bus ride away, because at the time it was the only French dual-track high school in south Calgary. Since I was also in band, I had practice at 7:30 a.m., meaning I was out the door and on the bus by no later than 6:30 a.m. usually four of five days a week. And of course university was, well, university. Continue reading
Project 365 is still bugging me a little. I don’t have this wonderfully fantastic, interesting life where I can take beautiful, interesting pictures every day, all day. That means there are going to be pictures of my messy desk and a street corner and my laptop.
Post Secret retweeted something this morning about someone who wished she could tell her younger self all these things she should know. I started thinking about it, and this is what I came up with. I tried to put it into some kind of flow, but I know it still starts off rather abruptly.
Also, the tweet said the person wished she could tell these things to her 16-,17-year-old self. I’m not entirely sure which “self” I’m telling this too — at least my 14-year-old self, I guess, before I started high school. My 12-year-old self (10 years ago) seemed too young, but my 16-year-old self doesn’t seem young enough.
In case I don’t spend enough time at my job, this realization has been following me around for a little while now: nearly all of my friends are journalists. Even my best friend, who is finishing her business degree, is my best friend because we both started in the journalism program.
This shouldn’t be a huge surprise — I did, after all, spend four years with these people, sometimes for 22 hours at a time, sometimes at 3 in the morning editing the newspaper, sometimes just because we’re friends and like to hang out together.
Sometimes, it takes me a while to write something. There have been news stories where I’ve had to start four or five different documents, playing with different ledes and transitions, just because I can’t figure out how I want to say what I need to say.
Usually though, that kind of rearranging and re-wording only takes me a few hours — although I like to leave myself enough time before deadline to look over everything one last time, and actually rewrote probably about a quarter to a half of a story one time after it had been laid out, because it was bothering me so much.
This time though, it took me nearly two and a half months. Continue reading