Going Green

I need to mark this occasion. I'm moving back to the upstate. Although, we can all agree - Greenwood is not Greenville (see above for confirmation).

We've got a cute little three bedroom apartment on the outskirts of the city - each one has a walk-in closet. We have a balcony, with more storage!

Can you tell I'm excited about extra space?

Okay, really - it's a big change. No more beach, but now mountains are a glance away. It's a trade-off, I believe.

A career advance comes along with the move.

It's all so exciting, but scary.

I've packed the living room and the kitchen in one day.

Fall falls upon us

There's something about the cool air and warm cider. (Sound like a post card? )

Jeans, turtlenecks and scarves. (Maybe a poem?)

The smell of when the heat kicks on for the first time in months. (Unless it catches fire.)

The leaves changing colors. (Sure makes long car rides more bearable.)

Halloween brings the fright, and the goobers get their candy. (Baby costume aisle is the best.)

Now for some new boots. Black, maybe brown. Flats this year.

I still can't find the perfect pair of jeans.

It's the time of year - before things get too cold, too dark, too miserable.

It's fall.

My favorite season.

But beware: winter looms.

Get ready for the staticky hair, and clingy clothes.

Get ready for the Christmas commercials months too early. (Like the snowman who melts.. "The weather outside is frightful"... and the Hershey kisses doubling as chimes.)

Get ready for frost on your windsheild.

And the grass to hide it's green.

The hot cocoa aisle loses stock in a snap.

Turkey, oh the turkey.

Make a list, check it twice.

Sales here, discounts there.

Candy canes come out of the woodwork.

Wrapping paper, ribbon, tape and bows.

The day after Christmas is always so depressing. (Was as a kid, and still is.)

All that's left is New Years.

Another year gone, another to come.

Time flies when you're at work writing a blog about fall.

Eight Years Ago

It was eight years ago, today, when I was attending classes at Lander University. I was sitting in a women's literature class. My professer was very stern, very down-to-business. Anyone who took her classes, knew she was tough. I got a C in that class, and was happy with it.

On that day, September 11, 2001 - I was sitting there. Class had just started.

We were learning about some feminist poet when my teacher heard some commotion. She looked down over the banister a few stories, down to the atrium in that building.

There was a big group of people surround the TV down there.

Finally, she caught wind of what was going on. A look of fear, horror came over her face. Just like that - she blew off class. What the hell was going on? Did she really just cancel class? This must be major.

It was.

On the way into class, I remember listening to the radio. A normally-chipper morning radio host seemed saddened - the mood was melodramatic. She spoke of a plane crash. That's all I could remember. I was so concentrated on not getting there after this woman closed the door.

After she dismissed class, I didn't go down to the atrium. But, I did hear someone talk about what had happened. I want wanted to go home to see it for myself.

As I was in the campus parking lot making my way to the car, I recall this idiot of a girl making fun of the whole situation. Saying things like "Oh look out - a plane is going to fall on us!" And then laughed in a very evil, fucked-up tone. She actually ended up being a sorority sister of mine. Never a big fan. I just now removed her from my Facebook friends because thinking about her doing that, made me sick to my stomach all over again. Granted, she probably didn't realize the magnitude of the situation at that given moment. But still - no longer friends.

I clearly don't hold grudges.

I got home and my roommate was already on the couch just engulfed in the coverage. She was crying and I called my mom. She was crying.

It all unfolded before us.

The people running from the tsunami of debris, the sut.. the people holding up signs of their loved ones - hoping, praying for a miracle. Those images will be etched in my head forever.

It was was bigger than Pearl Harbor in terms of people killed. And until someone said it in those words, I couldn't consume just how many good-blooded Americans were lost.

It's the biggest tragedy I will probably live through.

At least, I hope.

Big City Gal?

I'm wondering where I should go.

I'm feeling adventurous and I think I'm ready to try something new.

Here's where I've been so far:
Born: Youngstown, OH

Lived there until I was about three. Don't remember much of it. Couldn't get around if I tried.

Raised: Myrtle Beach, SC

Lived here since.

College: Greenwood, SC

Went real far, didn't I?

So maybe that's why I feel the need to get out of the 843/864 area codes.

It's all I've known.

So what's next? Where should I go? Am I destined for a big city? The beach? Or some place with a big-city feel that isn't that huge.

Oh the options.

Coffee and pastries with cool weather. That's what I want.

So maybe Paris? :)

When the head hits the pillow

I'm not sure how it's done: Two people living together with opposite schedules.

I wake up beat, my eyes are blood shot and I float throughout the day feeling just oh-so-tired.

Here's what is happening:

Jimmy has a semi-normal work schedule. He usually wakes up around 8 or so. Gets off at 6, 7 or so.

Me? I work at 2pm and get off at midnight. I don't fall asleep until well after 1, sometimes 2am.

In the morning: Jimmy's eye's will open around 7am - no matter what. (This is why he stocks up on sleeping pills when we're on vacation.)

This is my prime sleeping time. Deep, deep sleeping. Probably when you'll catch me snoring.

Zzzzz...

Have you ever heard the sound of a blackberry trackball cut through silence? I have.

It's what I hear most mornings well before I'm ready to get up. He's checking e-mails, texts, getting caught up on the overnight headlines and what his assignments are for the day.

Then he gets up, pees (etc.), showers, dresses. In comes the strong smell of cologne, and the sound of lotion going on. It's normal in-the-morning stuff that I would probably be doing as well.

But I'm a light sleeper. So when I fall back asleep - which is not easy for me to do - and start falling back to sleepy-sleep land, the smallest sound wakes me back up. It's just so... ahhh! I literally wake up pissed off.

I treasure my sleep and need a lot of it.

It's not like he's doing anything wrong, so I can't get mad at him... this time.

So I'm currently looking for a solution to this problem.

How do people handle this? Do I need to get back in the habit of taking my melatonin like I did when I worked the overnight shift? Will that make me sleep in too late? Do I need to consider sleeping in another room? That seems extreme.

But maybe I'll try getting to bed earlier?

We'll give that a go.

The big 2-8

I'm 28 now. It's a big number. So big, that everyone likes to just round up to 30. But it really doesn't bother me. Many people say.. "You're just a baby" or I get the "You're so old! You're pushing 30!"

Either way I get to hear from lots of people I don't normally talk to and it's nice.

I worked on my birthday - which I haven't done in a really long time. I always take my birthday off. Always. I didn't this year because I took a vacation the week prior and didn't want to ask for another day off. I find it depressing to have be sitting at my desk. However, this year, I switched shifts, so the the change up helped things be not so depressing. I also got some fun treats at work - inlcuding a loaf of blueberry banana bread, a whole dish of yellow cupcakes with chocolate icing (which I think is my new favorite cake combination), some cards, and a lotion-bath gel set.

It actually made for a very good day.

It wasn't until the last few minutes at work someone successfully put me in a bad mood and I cried. I actually cried in my car leaving work. Good going, reporter who pissed me off ON my birthday. Hope you slept well.

After that, a cheery talk to mom on the way home helped.

Then I got home.

Jimmy was on the couch watching soccer with no dinner being prepared. I then realized birthdays aren't what they used to be as you get older - especially when you blow your bank on said vacation and have none left to spend on your loving girlfriend until next glorious paycheck arrives. I ended up driving us to Arby's - I wanted to "eat out." We sat in front of the TV and watched Mad Men season one, disc one while sharing curly fries and beef and cheddar. That part was actually fun. And I'm not just saying that in the off-chance James Walter Moore, Jr. reads this post.

Red wine... roast beef... 28.

Last week - it's a wrap.

Last week - it was a traumatizing one.

First - the news of Jon & Kate divorcing. I know compared to some of the other things that happened later in the week, it seems like a comedy... but I'm still affected.
The death of Ed McMahon was just the beginning.
Then Farrah Fawcett. I watched The View just hours before she died. On the show Barbara Walters said she was in her final hours. That prepared me a little more.

Then the big one - Michael Jackson's death.

We were waiting for that "3rd" one - celebrity deaths always happens in threes. But damn, wasn't expecting death when the news broke that he had been rushed to the hospital. Thanks to TMZ.com for breaking that one. Who knew?

The news broke everywhere that he died during our 6pm newscast. I was in the newsroom scrambling to get the story together for the lead of our 7pm newscast.

But here's the moment I realized it was more than just work, more thank just news: Our Florence reporter, Tonya, called my extention moments after we sent out our breaking news text alert. With a raspy, cracked voice - she said, "Jaimie, is it true? Is Michael Jackson dead?" I said, "Yes, Tonya, it is true." She started crying. She was crying so hard, she had to hang up. There in the midst of a busy newsroom, it hit me just how big and global this was. I started shaking and everything that had happened - from the whole week - finally caught up with me.

Legends were lost. It was quite a week.