From This Day Forward, No More Fretting

It's hard to believe I have only two weeks left at The Post. This summer has FLOWN by and I remember thinking that it would be so long! I always like to think I've had a productive summer, but I don't think I'll ever be fully satisfied with what I accomplish. Internship-wise, I'm very satisfied that I've had a highly productive experience. Life-wise, I always feel I could have made more time to do things I needed and wanted to. I have read a lot of books, but not as many as I'd like. I re-read the Twilight saga for the third time, but not the Harry Potter series. I've become well acquainted with Twitter, but I have completely neglected my blog. I have seen more movies in the theater than usual, but because our DVD player is broken, I haven't gotten to watch a lot of my old favorites. My college stuff remains in the boxes I threw together in May, but I often think about organizing them. I still haven't scrapbooked my college life, but I definitely bought more scrapbooking supplies. I have not had Rita's Italian ice since the spring, but I've become addicted to Weight Watchers fudge pops. I haven't reunited with high school friends, but I have seen some Elon friends. I still haven't learned how to cook eatable food, but I saw "Julie & Julia" and was thus momentarily inspired. And the list goes on and on. I really just need to start being satisfied with what I have done rather than feel badly for what I've neglected. So from now on (and this is appropriate since I'll be starting my epic senior year. gulp.), I'm going to be optimistic about what I have done rather than fret over what I haven't. Because with that time I spend fretting, I could be watching the Lord of the Rings trilogy, reading "Anne of Green Gables," testing a chicken and mushroom recipe, starting my research, unpacking and repacking, planning for The Pendulum...and blogging.

Fresh out of the oven

Walking into the Pendulum office this morning, I realized what the phrase “hot off the press” really means. And in this case, I have determined that it’s something similar to “fresh out of the oven.” As soon as I swiped myself into the office, I could smell the fresh newsprint wafting off the stacks of papers lying by the door.

This past semester, the printer we use has been tying the stacks with thicker plastic rope, but these fresh smelling stacks were tied with my favorite string: the string that reminds me of last spring, my favorite semester with the Pendulum. It was the semester I was News Editor, the semester before I became Summer Editor-in-Chief, the semester before my life went through its next epic phase.

Last summer was my first summer alone. Living alone. Working. Cooking. Pendulum-ing.

The fall was spent in London and challenged me in all new ways. I missed Elon. I missed my friends. I missed the Pendulum. I missed out on covering Sarah Palin’s visit, covering the election, seeing “Sweeney Todd.” I missed the Luminaries, homecoming and soaking in autumn Elon. I missed out on opportunities that I may not have if I had been home. But everything happens for a reason so I need to be OK with all of that.

This spring brought me my hardest semester of classes yet. The Pendulum brought on a challenge in creating a new online and multimedia facet. I turned 21 and really felt the shift after attending the Turning 21 Dinner, an Elon tradition that Chaplain McBride created years ago. It was his final Turning 21 Dinner and he was the guest speaker – it was the most perfect time to turn 21. And what he had to say sparked the shift for me – I realized what turning 21 really means. His words have sprung up in my mind every day since.

After flipping through one of the commencement editions now patiently waiting in the office to be distributed in the morning, I stopped to read only one story. Alyse Knorr wrote a “then and now” piece that made me want to cry. If I had to pick one senior who has had the greatest impact on me, it would be Alyse: my first and favorite editor. Reading what she had to say about her four years at Elon has made me think about my three years here – the change I have experienced and the opportunities I have been given. Alyse was right – the change we have experienced at Elon during our time here is only the beginning of decades of change and opportunities we have yet to experience.

Elon has certainly prepared us for that change and growth, but for now, I’m happy just being me and just being here. A junior. 21. A Pendulum editor. A person who is in love with school and all the experiences and memories that it brings each day. I’m happy to just sit here and smell the fresh newsprint. Because who knows how long newspapers will really be around. We should take time to relish the smell now so we remember its glory tomorrow and always.

I helped bring peace to the Middle East

The crisis simulation will always be one of my favorite memories at Elon. I have always wanted to take part in a Model United Nations simulation and I’m so glad that I had the opportunity to do so with International Relations. Representing Israel was something that any IR student should want. Israel plays such a prominent role in international politics today and because of the crisis simulation, I have a stronger understanding of the state and will be able to follow the news with much more interest and understanding than before.

Overall, my cabinet worked very well together. We were diplomatic about decisions and handled every crisis with a good sense of judgment (and sense of humor when necessary). We were very conscientious about addressing everything that popped up on the newsfeed. It was important to us to not ignore any problem that may have had any kind of affect on Israel. No matter what someone’s position in the cabinet, we all contributed. Some cabinet positions were more crucial than others, such as the ministers of defense and foreign affairs, but they did not have to do an overwhelming amount of work more than the other cabinet members.

I think that my role as Minister of Communications and as a general participant in the simulation was crucial. Going into the crisis, I knew that I could and that wanted to contribute a significant amount, but I was afraid that my cabinet position would not allow me to take on as much as I had hoped. But this was an unnecessary concern because I was able to write a number of press releases and help a lot with other crises that called for attention.

The first action order of the crisis was a press release that I wrote. It was level 3 priority (out of 5) and addressed Israel’s support of the efforts being made by the Kuwaiti national assembly toward democracy. It was important to announce our support in order to boost our own international identity as a democracy-supporting state. My favorite contribution was a press release announcing “Jewbilation,” a celebration of the Jewish culture that would serve as a fundraiser to combat the recent Israeli debt rumors created by the BBC.

On the second day of the crisis, the crisis staff wanted to kick Israel’s cabinet out of government because we were accomplishing too much. I used my cabinet minister’s party affiliation to our benefit and wrote a press release announcing that I spoke with my fellow members of the Likud Party in the Knesset and swayed their votes to keep us in the cabinet. The idea worked perfectly and the crisis staff could not reject our plan. I also helped with the decision to create a statue in honor of the newly formed peace between Israel and Palestine.

Even after reading and researching Israel for weeks, I still learned new things about its internal struggles, external dilemmas and position within the world of international relations.

As the first day progressed, I became more assertive and added my opinions and contributed more. I became more comfortable in my belief that I had something of value to contribute, so I decided to express it more often. I realized, especially after my first couple of ideas were successful, that nothing is too outlandish. If I wanted to make something happen, it could happen and result in success for our nation.

At the beginning of the crisis, we outlined our highest priorities for the simulation. Our number one goal was nuclear non-proliferation in Iran. From there, we learned about Gilad Shalit, a prized Israeli solider who was captured by the Palestinians in 2006, and how it is very important that we get him back. Recovering him became our number two priority along with improving our international reputation. Creating peace between Israel and Palestine peace was number three. From there, a number of internal problems were on our list. Throughout the simulation, we made sure to hit all those points and address the concerns raised by other countries. In doing so, I learned a lot more about the Middle East and how each country interacts with one another.

In this season of his life, it is time to move on

After 25 years at Elon, Chaplain McBride celebrates his retirement

The tears inside Whitley Auditorium matched the drizzling rain outside Sunday afternoon. The celebration of Chaplain Richard McBride's retirement brought an entirely different feeling to the auditorium usually marked with the divine sounds of the organ at its forefront. It was one of sorrow, celebration, reflection and commemoration.

McBride came to Elon in August 1984 as chaplain and coordinator of personal counseling. But 25 years later, he is surrendering the name "Chaplain McBride."

President Leo Lambert said it was a ceremony to fully release McBride from his duties.

"While another man or woman will take up your mantle of responsibility," Lambert said, "you and Wendy (McBride's wife) will certainly remain cherished friends, keepers of Elon's values and present in the life of the university."

As Lambert tells each new class of freshmen at New Student Convocation in the fall, they may leave Elon, but Elon never leaves them. The case is the same with McBride and his wife.

"To begin your new role, it seems to me that you need a new title," Lambert said. "And so, I confer upon you this afternoon, the title ‘chaplain emeritus.'"

In this role, McBride is "to love and to support your successor, to continue to love the university unfailingly, to continue to experience university life, to keep our institutional memory and to remain a strong link in the chain."

Susan Klopman, vice president of admissions and financial planning, calls McBride "one of the most relevant, historically significant leaders at Elon."

He is the creator of many traditions and programs that remain at Elon today including Habitat for Humanity, Elon Volunteers!, the Turning 21 Dinner, the Life Stories class and Hometown Heroes.

He has dedicated a number of buildings on campus such as McMichael, Belk, Rhodes Stadium, the Academic Pavilions, Moseley and others. When he finally got to dedicate his own home, the Truitt Center for Religious and Spiritual Life, his wife told him that he always prays for others, but now it was finally time to pray for himself.

Junior Shane Morris works with McBride in the Truitt Center and has benefitted from several of the programs he has set up, especially EV! and Habitat.

"Chaplain McBride brings a sense of calmness and serenity to the office," Morris said. "It's unique in a way that I don't know if anybody else can bring that in the way he does."

Ecclesiastes 3:1 says, "To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven."

In the Service of Celebration, which honored McBride on his retirement as university chaplain, the seasons of his life as chaplain were celebrated before he was officially released through the litany of transition and vows of release.

Spring

"The alert ones in the audience are already wondering: ‘That guy can hardly get out of his chair, what could he possibly say or remember what Richard McBride saw?'"

Ed Christman began his dedication by making everyone laugh, just as he said McBride taught him.

Something that no one will ever forget about McBride is that "he taught us how to laugh, he can laugh at himself," Christman said. "What he brought to the table was a freedom to be who he was: to laugh, to cry, to raise questions, to say to his colleagues and to me, we gotta have a coffee house."

When no one else had the imagination to create something out of nothing, McBride found a place to fit a much-needed social and reflective space, a coffee house.

Christman was a mentor to McBride during his time at Wake Forest and someone who named McBride in his role when he would ask every evening, "Well, chaplain, how was your day?"

"Whether his heart was hurting or whether his brain was over-filled, or whatever, you could always count on him to see things as they really were and speak the truth to you softly," Christman said. "That's a gift that not very many people have."

Summer

"During the summer of his life, Richard McBride defined the soul of Elon University," said President Emeritus Fred Young.

McBride was the right person to lead Elon in the right direction. His service learning projects and programs are crucial to the institutional flagship program, Elon Experiences.

"Richard is able to counsel without being confrontational or judgmental," Young said. "His intellectual orientation is evident and greatly appreciated in an academic community. His ecumenical approach encourages staff and students. We can and do depend on him in times of joy and tragedy, both personal and institutional."

His concise and profound words before, during and after public gatherings at Elon have the ability to reach and enrich lives.

"Richard, your legacy is already in the hearts and minds of those who have passed through Elon for the past 25 years," Young said.

"The spirit, atmosphere and programs that were created through your leadership will enrich the lives of tens of thousands of future Elon students, faculty and staff.

"In the summer of your life, you defined the soul of Elon University and you defined it exceedingly well."

Fall

"Only for Richard" would Carolyn Nelson, director of design, stand up on stage to speak.

Every fall, Nelson packs up her dog and camera, and heads to Cedarock Park. She spends an afternoon at the park seeking new inspiration for her art, but she always ends up by the same little creek with big boulders and pools of still waters.

It is there that she finds "layers upon layers to watch and absorb" that leave her with a sense of all the same things McBride leaves upon those he meets: inspiration, insight, reflection and enlightenment.

"I don't know if it's sacrilegious to call a prayer art or poetry, but they are," Nelson said. "His eloquent words and plain truths speak to the heart, soul and intellect in equal measure. Prayers are spoken to God, of course, but I always feel like they're spoken just for me."

During convocations, Nelson said she looks forward to McBride's prayers just as much as the speakers themselves. But she remembers the prayers longer.

"He does, in fact, lead us to still waters," she said. "And just when you think you have found a clear reflection, there is a ripple and he rearranges the colors in a whole new light, and so it is with Richard. Still water. Steady light, bright light. A blessing to this university and a blessing to each of us."

Winter

"In springtime, learn. In harvest, teach. In winter, enjoy. Richard is entering the winter season of his life," said Smith Jackson, vice president and dean of student life.

Winter is a time for McBride to finally reflect, restore and become very busy doing those things he most enjoys.

McBride is building a room behind his house that will be a kind of secret sanctuary, Jackson said.

"Surprise, Wendy. It's not a secret anymore," he said.

The room will be a place for McBride to read, write and pursue photography. Jackson said McBride and his wife would now have time to travel the world.

Jackson only requests that McBride jots down some notes so we can still listen in on his journey.

Winter is also a time for McBride to "prepare for yet another spring," this time to travel the world and visit his grandchildren.

"Richard, you will always be a part of Elon," Jackson said. "Your role is just changing a bit. Wherever you are, with us will be your gentle and inquisitive spirit, your warmth and openness to others and your constant reminder that the real gorge of discovery exists not in seeking new lands but in seeing with new eyes in the present."

One of the greatest lessons McBride has taught members of the Elon community is to "be greater than ourselves," Jackson said.

The standing ovation McBride received at the end of his Service of Celebration was not the kind where a few initiate the rise and others slowly trickle upward. This was the rare kind that seems initiated by an outside force, one where every member of the audience rises simultaneously with a tear in the corner of his eye and a smile on his face.

Klopman summed up McBride's 25 years at Elon in four words:
"Richard, you are Elon."

on 'Cloud 360' after meeting Anderson Cooper

Anderson Cooper is someone I hope to emulate in my own career as a journalist. His deep compassion and humility are exactly what every anchor and “news icon” needs to display. The two things that will stick with me most from his visit are his mother’s advice to “follow your bliss” and Cooper’s emphasis on bearing witness and sharing the stories of those whose voices go unheard. I cannot think of anything I want to do more than share the stories of others to make a difference in the world.

“I think you should become a real person before you become a fake one,” Cooper said. He mentioned that anchors and politicians today embody this fake person identity. “I believe in facts, not opinion.” There is too much shouting already and “the last thing we need is another overpaid, over blow-dried anchor to tell you what to think.” This is something that is so important to remember when journalists make it big. They cannot let themselves become celebrities, but need to remain humble and realize it’s an honor to report the news to those watching at home and online. Reporters also should keep their opinions to themselves and not present opinion as fact. It’s our duty to tell people what to think about, not what to think.

As a political science major, Cooper’s entire undergraduate focus was on the Soviet Union. “When the Berlin Wall fell, I was totally screwed,” he said. He joked and said he eventually realized it wasn’t “all about me” and that he was OK with the wall falling.

After a trip to Africa, Cooper fell in love with different countries and the vitality of the people. He tried to become a foreign correspondent but had difficulty getting into the business. Instead, he decided to become a war correspondent. “Since no one would give me a chance, I had to take a chance,” Cooper said. “And if no one would give me an opportunity, I would create one.” Cooper started going to wars and covering them. His first war coverage experience was when he created his own press pass and snuck into Burma.

Somalia is where Cooper found his calling. It was there that he discovered he could bear witness to struggles and tell of peoples’ lives. He spent time in a hut with a family with countless troubles. “I may have gone to Yale,” he said, “but I think I was really educated in Somalia.” His trips to the other far reaches of the planet taught him more than his Ivy League education did.

In war you expect to find darkness, but there is light as well, Cooper said. As a war correspondent, he runs toward what everyone else is running from. When he returns home, it is dull in comparison, which is why it is so important to face what scares us most. You can’t allow your own fears and your own security to alter the things you see and report. And when you become numb to the war and its terrors, it’s time to step back and let yourself become affected by it again. “If you can’t feel moved by what you’re seeing, you shouldn’t be doing it.”

Cooper returns to New Orleans at least once per month to keep the story alive. It’s a part of his belief to bear witness. During Katrina, governments failed in the way individuals didn’t.

Cooper said it was surreal walking into the Oval Office and seeing President Barack Obama sitting there waiting for Cooper to interview him. The room was sweltering, leading Cooper to the conclusion that there is no sweat in the political realm. Since Nixon, all the politicians must have had their sweat glands removed, or gotten Botox, Cooper mused.

At the presidential debates, the pressure is palpable, Cooper remembered. Every candidate is staring you down wanting to be called on – you can’t look him or her in the eyes, or then you’re obligated to call on them. John Edwards raises his eyebrows and leans, but Hillary Clinton just stares, he said, so he just decided to stare at their navels, “which was very uncomfortable.”

One thing that was hilarious to Cooper was observing politicians when they point. They can’t use the normal point, he said, so they have a “political point.” Cooper said he has become obsessed with it but has never seen an “actual human being” use the point. He charged the audience to go forth today and use the political point from now on.

Partisan bloggers are becoming ubiquitous and we now have access to more information than ever before. Independent journalism comes with great dangers because you have to know where information is coming from. It’s a great privilege to tell people’s stories and it’s a great privilege to be on television and in people’s homes, Cooper said. “The best thing to do is to walk in other people’s shoes as much as possible.”

Not so much "good night," but we need the "good luck"

Tonight is the night. It's probably the night that will never end considering it will run into the morning when we leave the place we're staying in Arlington for the Metro around 5 a.m. We definitely debated heading out on the first train at 4 a.m., but then reconsidered after realizing how much content we need to finish producing tonight before heading back to Elon tomorrow afternoon.

Today was very productive, once again. Our first interview was around 10 a.m. at the Willard Hotel. It was really interesting to hear about the history behind the hotel, especially when I found out that Martin Luther King Jr. stayed there to finish his "I Have a Dream" speech and that Abraham Lincoln stayed there on occasion. After the grand tour of the Willard, we headed over to the White House to catch some tourists, and that's when it started to snow! Unfortunately, it ended as abruptly as it started, but the fat, solid flakes made me smile enough to hope for more later on in the afternoon (though they never came).

We then made our LONG trek to the Dirksen Senate Office Building to interview Kay Hagan. There were a lot of entertaining moments that accompanied that trip. First, we found out we were at the wrong intersection...the building was not where we thought it would be. So, as we're trying to figure out where to go, the three of us break into a semi-run straight ahead toward the capitol and Supreme Court, realizing we only have 10 minutes left to get to the building, through security and down to the basement where her office is. The added tricky part was that we had a 5-minute window. If we weren't there at exactly 1 p.m. our interview would vanish at 1:06. It was definitely crunch time. We finally found the building and at 12:56, called to her office to have someone come get us and vouch for camera gear to get us through security. At 12:58, our escort came and we bypassed everyone standing in line for their senators' last available tickets for inauguration. There were some kind and loving words exchanged behind us as we were escorted in front of them through security. I had to wonder, did they realize they were talking about us that loudly when we were less than a foot away? At that point, we simply didn't have the energy to turn around and say that we were with the press and promised to not take away what little chance they had at obtaining tickets anyway. OK, so at that point, we were very overheated and not up to debating or feeling very remorseful.

When we got into the office at 1 p.m., we were feeling very confident about getting as much in as possible into the 2-minute slot we were alotted with Hagan. She was very busy today! It was a great interview and it seemed like she would have loved to talk more if only she had the time. After that, we headed to Richard Burr's office with hopes of an interview, but got a photo instead. Later, I conducted a phone interview with Howard Coble. It was a big day for interviews with politicians!

Our day was winding down, but before we headed out of the city, Derek and I were determined to get a story on the street vendors. After interviewing four of them, we had a solid base for our pet feature story.

And now, after dinner and a couple cans of ginger ale, I am tackling about four stories at once and uploading hundreds of photos to flickr so that The Pendulum and Burlington Times-News have solid content from us to run in the papers and online! So for now, good night (though it may never end) and good luck!

A cure to loss of epicenter

When I woke up this morning, I diagnosed myself with having “lost my epicenter.” I couldn’t quite figure out why my balance was so off and why I couldn’t stop feeling so dizzy, but I was determined to not let it ruin my day and keep me away from the city. So, like every journalist should, I sucked it up. And sure enough, as soon as I hopped out of the car and approached Washington monument, I felt significantly better. The cold air certainly helped, but seeing the hundreds and thousands of people trek toward the Lincoln Memorial for this morning’s concert made the most significant change to my morale.

Derek, Olivia and I made our way through CIA security in about 10 minutes and waited at the end of the reflecting pool near the WWII Memorial. We gathered some man-on-the-street interviews and captured b-roll of the crowds and police officers at work. As it approached 2 p.m. we made our way along the left side of the reflecting pool to get closer to the jumbo screens where we could watch the concert. We could barely see the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, but just knowing that we were so close was an incredible feeling. One amazing moment was when Barack and Michelle Obama pranced down the stairs to greet the crowd. There was such an enthusiasm in the way they approached the podium. Even more enthusiastic was my and Olivia’s response. As soon as we saw them on the jumbo screen, we jumped up and down and hugged each other. We had no idea that the Obamas were going to show up at the concert! And we just couldn’t believe that we are HERE, in D.C. witnessing this moment. It was truly incredible.

The other gasps I emitted this afternoon were for Tom Hanks, Laura Linney, Steve Carell, Jamie Foxx, Stevie Wonder, Kal Penn, John Legend, James Taylor and…Josh Groban! I absolutely flipped out when he came on the steps that were his stage. As always, he sounded wonderful. Just thinking that we were that close to all those people…wow.

Derek was hardcore about his video today. At one point, he climbed to the top of a port-o-potty to get video and stills of the crowd! He didn’t start the trend, though. There were tons of people sitting on top of them all along the sidewalk. People were also sitting in the trees to get a good view of the steps.

Approaching the capitol yesterday and the Lincoln Memorial today brought on so many varying degrees of excitement and made me realize how incredible it is to be a part of this. I just wonder what we’ll witness tomorrow.

Viewing the capitol with new eyes

Driving up to Washington, D.C., yesterday, I had no idea what to expect. Derek Noble, Olivia Hubert-Allen and I were the “meat” of a sandwich caravan between the journalists of Phoenix 14 in front, and Colin Donohue, our adviser, and his wife behind us.

We drove here with a decent idea of stories that we wanted to seek out and cover, and the various ways in which we would go about writing, photographing and filming them. But I never could have expected what we faced when we hopped out of the car and approached the capitol yesterday afternoon. Our first plan was to take photos in front of the capitol before everything gets too busy and crowded to snag those few moments with a clear view of the American flag-bedecked building. But as we made our first attempt at a headshot, we were approached by a woman from Georgia, who wanted to share her story with us.

Several interviews and meetings later, we had solid material when we did not expect anything more than the comfortable feeling of getting our bearings of the area. We met an online reporter whose mother just moved to Elon, a man from Durham, someone for works for Voice of America, a retired Marine, a pair of pedicab drivers from Texas, and my favorite, a man from the Comoro Islands, which is between the eastern coast of Africa and Madagascar. Because of Abou Kaudra’s strong enthusiasm for Obama and the American way of life and politics, he was given a free trip to D.C. by the American ambassador of Madagascar. Traveling for 16 hours, he is here to take small steps and a giant leap for his country.

Two hours passed by and we hadn’t even realized it until it became dark enough to use a camera light for our final interview with Kaudra. Exhausted on the ride home, but energized by our productive first day, we got to working as soon as dinner was over.

This is going to be one of the best reporting experiences of my college career, and as I mentioned to Olivia and Derek when we were first approaching the capitol, I never imagined that I would attend an inauguration, but covering it is even more incredible.

A Mid-October Night's Nightmare

I usually don’t talk about my normal nightmares. If something horrific happens in my nightmares, something that will most definitely not happen, then I share them simply because they’re so out there. But the normal ones, the ones that have potential to happen – those I usually keep to myself. This time, I have decided to share it because there’s a lesson behind it. And we all like lessons.

Last night, I spent half the evening balling my eyes out – all in my nightmare. I was home again, in Maryland or North Carolina – I couldn’t tell – and I had realized that my London life was over. I had accomplished nothing, I had seen nothing, I had not even come close to doing all the things I had on my list. I didn’t travel anywhere while I was there. I didn’t find my happy-ever-after ending. It was basically an awful nightmare. Reverse culture shock hit me harder than I could have ever imagined. I did not want to be where I was anymore. All I wanted to do was go back home, to London. But for some reason, that wasn’t possible. Something was standing in my way of coming back to London. Before I could figure that out, I had two visits from people I hadn’t seen in years. I can’t remember who the first was, but the second I do. I don’t know why she was one of my visitors, but she came to the door with her mom and someone else who I didn’t know. And the door wasn’t the door to my home even though I was with my whole family. (I know, you are probably even more confused than I am at this point, so I apologize and I applaud you for hanging in there with me.) But she was there asking me about my life since I had seen her last. And that’s all I can remember.

The visitors’ conversations are a blur, my neighborhood – which wasn’t my actual neighborhood – is a blur. I have no idea what else happened in this nightmare, but the details aren’t important anymore. What I learned from my nightmare is that it’s time to slow down. It’s time for me to start seeing the things I want to see and stop letting people and other things hinder me from doing exactly what I want. The real nightmare would come when I do have to go home in less than two months and have nothing accomplished beyond the skeleton of my list of things to do. It’s time to stop letting the minutes tick away and it’s time for my family to pick up and move to London.

The lesson here: Don’t fall asleep with your London guidebook and wake up with your iPod earphones choking you as The Beatles’ “Love Me Do” is playing.

Tube Thoughts

The other day, I headed off to Hackney after class to go to my internship...simply because that's where I love to be. I had work to do as well, but I just love going to my internship. But that day in particular, Thursday, I learned more about myself in a few hours than I have been able to figure out in a long time.

What an incredible feeling of independence it is to just walk around London and do as I feel without a care in the world. Well, of course I have many cares in the world, but what a brilliant feeling. I had my iPod in, listening to all the most marvelous tunes, and was just completely soaking in all the glory of London: the tube, the people, the sites, the freedom, the buildings, the smells, everything. I can hardly put it into words and I know that I'm not giving those moments justice. But during that time, I thought about so many things and tried to figure out so much. I didn't necessarily have any resolution to any of the things I thought about, but it felt so good to be able to think for once. I have been going and going non-stop for the past couple of weeks, unable to take a moment to process everything, but Thursday gave me that moment, plus a few more.

I thought about my internship and how it's something that I can see myself doing for a long time after college. I thought about The Pendulum and my future and how much it hurts to see such incredible things going on with the paper and I'm unable to be there to share in it - it's given me so much joy to see everything online at least and to see how stunning the paper has become, but I so want to be a part of it. I thought about my major and how much time is left in making a decision about my future - not only have I been unable to decide between television and print/online, but radio has been added to the confusion and fumble. I thought about my family and how my mom will be here so soon and I finally get to share my city with her.

And as I was taking in the glory of independence and realizing how much I have grown in only one month, I thought about how this is the only place in the world where I will be completely happy. It's the only place I can imagine spending the rest of my life. And whether I have to live here and there for some years before I make it to London, it's a time that I'm willing to spend.