Comforted by the spirit of Michael Jordan

Tonight was my first UNC basketball game, and it was against big rival NC State. But before I detail that experience, let me detail to you my own experience as a player of the game known as basketball.

Which was limited.

Many of you know this story, but for those of you who don't - buckle up cause it's going to be an emotional ride.

When I was a wee 7-year-old, my parents decided to sign me up for church league basketball. At the time my sisters were 10 and 12 and were starting to get more aggressive in soccer. There haven't been many things that Bob has said that I've listened to, but one of them was this: when playing [soccer], lean into your opponent with your shoulder - not your elbow - so you don't get called on a foul.

In my first-grade mind, this translated across all sports.

So when we played an actual game, my prematurely tall frame took out player after player until I was literally ejected from the game in the first quarter.

Now, because I used my shoulder - not my elbow - to level the opposing team, I was confused as to why I was getting kicked out. To make it worse, my parents were in hysterics in the bleachers, leaning on each other with tears of laughter streaming down their faces.

Kids, that's what you get for listening to your father.

I am happy to report, however, that tonight's experience with basketball was much more positive. Let's recap:

These are the awesome spirit gloves my sister/brother-in-law got me:

This was my date for the evening:

This is what the stadium looked like before I put my glasses on:

This was my actual view about half of the game:

And this, my friends, was the score:

74-55. Go Heels!

Needless to say, I was in the "house of God" when I had my traumatizing childhood experience with basketball, and I believe it is possible that God has led me to UNC solely to restore my faith in the game and to heal the wounds it caused me so long ago.

This was a step in the right direction, God. Let the healing begin.

Another version of the dream

I've been thinking a lot about Martin Luther King, Jr. in my last four nights of insomnia. Partly because of the long weekend I got to take advantage of, and partly because his actions as a civil rights leader continue to challenge the way society is structured.

But how can we, as a nation, observe MLK day and pat ourselves on the back for being so accepting and open when we are blatantly denying gay members of society basic rights?

This issue is staring us in the face, asking us to make monumental steps toward something great, the way that King did. And somehow, even after witnessing so many eras of discrimination - women's suffrage, the Holocaust, civil rights - we shoo it away. Are we blind? Have we not grown enough as a society to recognize our mistakes repeating themselves?

There are other issues that I am passionate about, and for each of those I can understand the other point of view. Giving gays equal rights is one issue that I absolutely cannot understand the opposition to. I honest-to-god have yet to hear a legitimate counterargument to this issue.

My parents once brought up the point of gay marriage being a fiscal burden on society. I don't really understand why it would be, but I'm not all that fiscally savvy at this point. What I do know, is that gays pay taxes, too. And if we're willing to carve out a piece of society and say "even though you pay for others to have this right...it's not for you" then we are doing something wrong. And we shouldn't be giving married couples tax breaks when we keep the right of marriage away from tax-paying gays who are forced to be "single" under the law.

If your argument has anything to do with the Bible, that can be easily dismissed by the notion of church and state, recognizing the true sin of Sodom was rape and inhospitality, and accepting that "abomination" mentioned in Leviticus derives from a Greek word more closely translated to "taboo." And, I mean honestly, have you read the story of David and Jonathan? They were more than friends.

And if we are so willing to dismiss gays, then we are not entitled to enjoy Swan Lake, West Side Story, the Sistine Chapel, or any other brilliant work done by someone gay. Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, Hans Christian Andersen, Tennessee Williams, Ralph Waldo Emerson. They were gay. And they were great.

These are people. With beating hearts. They are not the "other" that we can dehumanize.

Homosexuality has been around forever. And it's not going anywhere. Gays are our neighbors and friends and possibly someday our children. Are you willing to cast the vote today that will restrict your child's rights tomorrow?

I am amazed by the ignorance that we bring to the polls and the willingness we have to vote against something that would affect our personal lives in absolutely no way. America cannot say it stands for equality when it only stands for equality sometimes for some people. Think twice before you vote, people. There should be no second class citizens. Not blacks, and not gays.

Goodbye to a journalism god, Conrad Fink

Today, I am sad.

I am sad for myself, I am sad for the University of Georgia, I am sad for the field of journalism, but mostly I am sad for all the future students of UGA's Grady College that will not get to be taught by Conrad Fink.

The Red and Black reported that he passed away this morning after a 20 year battle with prostate cancer. He was 80.

I took his class in newspaper management my last semester of undergrad, which would turn out to be his last full semester of teaching. I took his last class.

Now, while Fink was not the mentor to me that he was to others, the man was a legend in every sense of the word. He was a professor, but had no degrees past a bachelor's. He was a marine, a war correspondent during Vietnam, and the vice president of the Associated Press. No doctorate needed.

He taught his students from experience, with a red pen and firm voice.

On the last day of class he let us ask him questions about his life, so we made him tell us stories like his scariest moment as a journalist (being unarmed in a field hiding from the Viet Cong) and how he met his wife (when he was very young - she traveled with him as they lived all over the world together).

He pushed you, cold-called you, and questioned everything The Red and Black did (the editor-in-chief, managing editor, and three daily writers were in the class with me -one of which wrote the article announcing his death). He taught me that sometimes using the F-word is essential in reporting a story (not this time, obviously). I turned into a bashful school girl when he praised my paper on how the New York Times handles stories on terrorist groups from different religions, but almost wet myself when he would put me on the spot in class.

He was tough, no question there. If he absolutely loved your paper you would only know from him passing it back and saying, "AUSTIN. Fine work." He never failed to write a paragraph at the end of your paper in sloppy red handwriting. But he really relished in his students' success. The mere fact that he taught until he physically no longer could, at the age of 79, is a testament to his dedication to teaching. He had knowledge, he knew it, and he wanted to share it.

It's hard to explain what this man means to Grady, however if you are a Grady student you know very well. From the second you are accepted to the college, you hear students talking about Fink. His classes, his papers, his eyebrows. But I have recently come to learn that it expands way beyond UGA.

In my first few days up here at UNC, I was asked about six times whether I knew Fink - whether I'd gotten to learn from him, talked to him, been in his presence. One professor proudly pulled out a book he authored from her book shelf.

People in journalism link Grady to Fink. I have no doubt that the other wonderful professors in the college will keep the program just as high in the rankings, but there is no question that Georgia has lost something it cannot replace. I knew I was learning from someone special last spring, but I will most definitely continue to realize what he taught me for years to come.

This pretty much sums him up:

The little noise he makes in the last second is classic Fink.

And this is the link to a Washington Post article on him, appropriately pulled from the AP wire. The fact that the Post wrote about it really says something.

Over break.

Back to Chapel Hill and back to the grind. I'm about to start writing a wholllle bunch so I decided my recap of Christmas break would be via pictures. This is what my wonderful three-week break consisted of:

Painting the nails of everyone around me in bizarre designs:


Some trap shooting:


A little wedding dress shopping for my sister:


Celebrating the engagement of some of my favorite couples and catching up with the brides (yep, I stole these pictures from Facebook):






Spending some time with my quirky family - this is Ashley "transferring energy" to the bread dough to help thaw it:


Calling the police to get them to kill a wounded deer - which they didn't end up doing, but three cop cars showed up to tell me that they couldn't shoot it because it was too close to a house. Any Johns Creek-ers wondering where your tax money is going?




Spent a few days here for my birthday:


Finding some old pictures:


Spending some time with this kid:


Getting some life lessons from car windows:


Christmas:


And, of course, lots and lots of dog time:






Happy spring semester!

How to write a status in 10 ways

This blog was inspired by a number of things.
1. Mass holiday texts.
2. A million people getting married
3. A reconnection to Facebook after finals.

It has been brought to my attention recently that, after taking a step back from my southern sorority girl life, there are heavy trends in how said girls update their statuses on Facebook. These are a few of those trends, examples, and explanations of their affectiveness.

1. Anything ending in, "Um...what!?"

Example: "I just saw a guy WALKING through the drive-thru. Um...what?!"

Explanation: This describes your outrage in a slightly humorous way. You can talk about something small that happened in your day but twist it to make it sound like it was the most insane moment of your life. It also shows your disgust over something trivial that you would probably do on any other given day.


2. Something about how magnificently wonderful your brand new hubby is.

Example: "I am so thankful for my family, friends and the best husband in the world, John Smith, this Christmas!!! <3 :)"
(Disclaimer - if you don't tag him in your status on this one it means you don't love him. It needs to show up on his page too so that people know your love is real.)

Explanation: This reminds all of your thousand Facebook friend that you are married and excited about it - in case they forgot after you posted your engagement as a status, your relationship status change from in a relationship to engaged, a picture of the ring and the story of how he did it, all three albums of your engagement pictures, a countdown until your wedding day, your name change, your relationship status change from engaged to married, all sixteen of your wedding picture albums, and weekly pictures of flowers and notes that your new hubs leaves for you.


3. Anything on monumental days, no matter how non-monumental they are.

Example 1: "It's 11/11/11!"
Example 2: "Merry Xmas!"
Example 3 (referring back to #2): "Happy six week anniversary to my fantastic husband and best friend, John Smith! Can't wait to spend the rest of forever with you!"

Explanation: This either reminds people that you know what day it is, makes you feel like a good person for spreading well wishes, or once again reminds people that you are married.


4. Something about how lame your hometown is.

Example: "There is nothing to do in Johns Creek. Going to Forsyth to Steak 'N Shake. Hit me up."

Explanation: You are soooooo over your high school town and need to remind people that it was SO four years ago. Don't be surprised when your hometown is exactly as you left it after high school. But make sure to tell everyone that you're grown and mature and on your own now...except for the three weeks you come home to mooch of your parents over the holidays.


5. Mini-letters to non-human entities.

Example: "Dear snow, Did you really have to start falling right before my four hour drive home? Not cool. Sincerely, Stacy"

Explanation: You think you're being clever, but you're really showing signs of pen pal-inspired insanity.


6. Your daily/weekly/monthly goals.

Example: "This week I'm going to make myself go for a run if it kills me, and make sure I do my laundry before the weekend!"

Explanation: Your intention is to put your goals in writing so that (A) people can see how busy you are that you barely have time for menial tasks like laundry or (B) you will actually follow through with them since they're now public. You probably won't follow through and no one actually cares...like at all. So this one needs to stop.


7. Song lyric and/or movie quote.

Example 1: "'Santa! I know him!'"

Explanation 1: You love the movie Elf and, like every other day in December, it happens to be on TV. You think you may be somewhat tricking people because you didn't put what movie the quote is from, and wonder how many people will "like" your status...a sign that they get the secret joke. In fact, most of the time, the quote is extremely common and everyone gets it.

Example 2: "Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead."

Explanation 2: You have feelings, and Adele is the only one who understands.


8. Something...ANYTHING...about your religious beliefs.

Example 1: "God has blessed me with so many wonderful people in my life! I love all of you!"
Example 2: "Ezeiel 23:19 <3"
Example 3: "Happy birthday, Jesus! You are my Redeemer and Savior and Lord and such."

Explanation A: You love your religion times a billion and feel like everyone needs to hear about it because it makes you so happy and you're convinced it'll make others happy too.
Explanation B: You want people to believe you posted it because of Explanation A.


9. And subsequently something about your alcohol consumption.

Example (subtle): "Moving a little slow today."
Example (not-so-subtle): "Shit...where's my debit card? And where am I? Someone wanna pick me up?"

Explanation: You like to remind people that you're a lot of fun and like to have a good time. My lack of excessive alcohol consumption leaves me a bit baffled on this one, but my guess is that you're still enamored by your 19-year-old days of taboo inebriation or that you're still too drunk to realize that posting in the public domain about being blatto is a bad idea in general.


10. Tangible figures of time or effort.

Example 1: "12 pages down...3 to go! I WILL finish this paper tonight!"
Example 2: "About to start the 11 hour car ride home!" or "After 15 hours I finally landed in Japan!"

Explanation: Providing the facts and figures helps your fellow sorostitutes sympathize with and/or understand the extent to which you have to drive/write/fly/etc. It's challenging to express in words how hard your life can be sometimes, but numbers are a good way to provide detail.


Extra credit for any emoticons, exclamation marks, hearts, cutesy sign-offs, or inside jokes that 99.9% of your friends don't understand.



And in closing, after 42 minutes of writing, I'd like to say I love God (Mark 14:51-52), my (future) husband<3, shots of Mr. Boston (um...WHAT?!), but not Johns Creek cause it's sooooo lammmmeeeee. "Oh come let us adore Him!" MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!! XOXOXOXO

Love, Cindeer

Right hand rings are a girl's best friend

People are getting engaged and it's freaking me out.

Yes, it's fun to stalk the engagement pictures and see who can come up with the cheesiest Scrabble configuration.

But I, for one, am not ready for anyone to put a ring on it. People get married at different times, and some people are apparently ready at 22. It works for some people. Some people are ready to settle down and promise forever to their counterpart.

I am not some people. Tis not for me.

Until May 2013, I am married to my desk. I am married to Carroll Hall. I am married to all 700 level classes that start with JOMC. And I am married to a piece of paper that will hopefully come floating my way after the next 18 months of borderline torture.

And as the selfish 22-year-old that I am, I am perfectly ok with that. I am enjoying the freedom of being able to move 400 miles away from anyone I know without looking back.

The second you say "I do" you are part of a whole. Any significant decision you make has to be seconded. These are a few of the things I know about marriage. But in the grand scheme of things, I know nothing about it. I don't know what it's like to have to pick up man panties day after day and I don't have Axe shower gel in my bathroom (though I should look into it cause it smells guuuud). Quite honestly, I really enjoy being alone and having my own space. I enjoy being selfish and ambitious without anything holding me back. Not to say spouses hold you back because I'm sure they can be supportive and warm and fuzzy.

The point is, I'm not getting married anytime soon. So to people looking at me, that think dating someone for a few years automatically means imminent engagement, you will be sorely disappointed.

This includes my grandfather. He relished in my graduation, completing his dream of seeing all seven of his grandchildren graduate college. My fear is that he hopes to see all seven of his grandchildren get married. That being said, if he holds off for that, I may be solely responsible for him living for another 10 or 15 years. My unwillingness to commit makes me godly like that.

But hark! I have a scapegoat. My cousin David is four years older than I am and he is neither married nor engaged. So when my grandfather starts hinting that I look good in white, my first response will be that I'm just waiting my turn, so when David gets married I'll follow suit. On account of not being rude and cutting in line.

So far, this is my most logical and least expletive response.

If that fails, I will tell him I'm still exploring my sexuality and am considering the option of a civil union with Jodi Picoult. That, or that I have a great-grandchild on the way for him and don't want to be pregnant in my wedding dress. Or all of the above, just for fun.

Meow, hiss, scratch, etc.

Friday night, I was as close as I've ever been to getting into a cat fight.

Which isn't saying much, but still.

Now imagine that you're hearing windchime-like music that takes you back to yester-year (in this case, like a month ago.) The j-school has set up a happy hour with the law school. Everything is hunky-dory until one girl writes on the Facebook event, "Journalism?" Another law student jokes about how journalism people think they can keep up with the law school kids (in terms of drinking) and they're gonna show us j-school people how to drink (lol, winky face, other emoticons symbolizing a joke).

At which point, the first girl responds with, AND I QUOTE:

"I'd drink too if I was paying for an education that led me to a dying field with no job prospects or financial security."

WHOOOOAAAAAAAAA.

Can we just agree that that statement is all kinds of wrong? Because I could write for the rest of the night about how we're all actually being PAID to be here and journalism is far from dying, much less how there are more people in law school right now than actual LAWYERS in America.

Anyways, this sparked a bit of a semi-joking, semi-evil back-and-forth (I seem to be very hyphen-happy tonight) between the two groups of students, essentially ending in the journalism kids wishing the law students good luck with the crushing debt they'll face in three years. Although it was a very classy debate, I managed to keep my wiseass mouth shut and took no part (except mentally) in the bickering.

Now windchime back to this Friday night.

My darling law school roommate Tina invites me out with her law friends to a grill where they were showing the Carrier Classic. I agree and off we go.

While watching the game with what seemed like the whole law school, I turn to the girl next to me to start conversation... "Are you a 1L, too?" I ask, with all the charm and adorableness in which I approach everything in life. "Why yes, I am....blahblahblah." We talk for a couple minutes, eventually getting to how I'm in the journalism program.

She brings up the law school/ j-school Facebook event and then insists on introducing me to the girl that started it all, who happens to be standing behind me looking like a hot mess. "No, no that's really not necessary. Seriously. We don't have to do that," I say, to no avail.

Once we're introduced, the girl (who has had a beverage or two) exclaims, "OH MY GAAWWWDDDDD, I HATE you journalism people!"

I'm sorry...do you know me? No. But now that you're about to, I'll make sure your hate is justified.

So somehow we get to the subject of me looking for an internship. "Hopefully it'll turn into a job offer," I say.

"We don't HAVE thosssse," homegirl says.
"Job offers?" I ask with my best "I had no idea that sounded bitchy" look on my face.
"Uhhhhh, no," she replies. "Internships."
*Smirk*

This continues on for a while, me feeling more and more vindicated as homegirl starts to realize that her inebriation level leaves something to be desired, and that my perfect storm of journalistic skills, sobriety and smartass genes makes me much better with words.

She later goes on and on about how she's a Penn State fan and Joe Paterno is a legend. I ask how this has anything to do with my program and she says he's getting fired because of the media, and my program "is the media." I look forward to her career as a lawyer.

Through the ten minute stream of accusations and sheer hatred, I did my best Sorority Cindy impression by smiling and pretending to be patient with this numbnut. In fact, all that was running through my mind was my mother saying I can never hit first, and subsequently two words:

SWING, BITCH.

Oh, it would have felt so good. But alas, I cruised home on the high road, and that is where the story of my first almost-fight ends.

A note.

Dear bicyclists,

You all suck.

I've never liked you. Maybe when you're normal citizens, yes. But as soon as you get on your little two-wheeled demons, I lose all respect for you.

There is a reason you learn to ride a bike when you're 5. Because you're supposed to get it out of your system by the time you turn 10. By the time you go to college, you should have totally forgotten what a bike is.

I thought the bicyclists were bad at UGA, but my mind has been blown by the outrageousness of UNC riders.

For some reason, you bikers seem to think you should have first dibs on streets, bike lanes AND sidewalks.

You are supposed to stick to the street. It's the law. They even put a bike lane IN the street, so that you don't get pancaked. But you insist on trying as hard as you can to get pancaked anyway.

You don't wear helmets, you run red lights, and you don't stop at crosswalks.

Do you not realize you are quite vulnerable, and, in a fight, my odds are always on the bus? They have those flat fronts to make sure you have the pancake-look you so desire. None of this rolling over the hood stuff. I would even put my odds on an athlete's scooter over you - the first time a scooter has ever seen a mention of my odds. You would still lose.

As for being on sidewalks...what the heck, kids?

All I'm tryna do is get to Carroll Hall. You're on the sidewalks, whizzing past me like I'm in your way.

It is a SIDEWALK. Meant for PEDESTRIANS. Do not look at me outraged when I "get in your way."

You are a silent demon, lurking in the shadows of campus, just waiting for me to look away from you so that you can speed past me and make me pee a little in fear of my life.

Can I just walk to the bus in peace, please?

Regards,

Every campus pedestrian ever

Oh, happy day!

I can't help myself.

I just have to blog about how awesome yesterday was.

The following things happened yesterday that put it in the running for best day in North Carolina:

1. I finished and turned in THREE assignments. Four days early.

2. Ashley and Hunter came to visit for lunch on their way to a wedding in Raleigh and I got to show them where I live and at least part of my new town.

3. UGA beat Florida. I'll say it again...The University of Georgia beat the University of Florida. I had the game on in the background while I was executing number 1 on my list, and couldn't believe it when we were actually contending for the W. When it got to the last quarter when we came ahead...

4. Tina and I went to a pizza place across the street to watch the end! That's right...two social events in one day! AND...

5. We were sitting next to Florida fans! Who groaned very loudly when we won and "mumbled" something about how we hadn't won in three years and have only won however many games out of a million. To which I mentally responded...."DURRRRRRR!!!!! That's why we're so excited. SUCKAAAAAAA"

6. Then after the game, some dude bought all four of us (me and Tina and two of her friends) a drink, but then just said congrats and left. Didn't even have to put up with cheesy pick-up lines. Incredible. At which point...

7. I asked for the least alcoholy-tasting beer, and what the bartender gave me was actually pretty good! Tasted like Ginger Ale. Just how I like it.

8. UNC beat Wake Forest! Sorry, siblings.

9. Duke lost! I never really follow Duke but this is just the cherry on top, mind as well add it to my list.

Intimacy Issues

After finishing a hell week, I decided to give myself last night off. My neighbor/classmate and I decided to get wild. So we got on our kicks and went to Bed Bath & Beyond and Marshall's.

Where things got "intimate":



Sexy.

Organically yours

Continuing on the fact that (all but one of) the people in my program are miles more liberal than I am, I have been given so much crap about what I eat.

Now, for those that are informed of my testy digestive system, you know that there are many foods that I can't eat and keep down. So when I find something that I can eat without worry, I stick to it.

Recently my diet consists of bread, carbs, raw vegetables, Lean Cuisines, english muffins, cream cheese, carbs, bananas, chicken, carbs and sweets.

Now, I recognize that it's not the most balanced diet. But it keeps me from upchucking in class, so my classmates should be thanking me.

One day when discussing what I microwaved myself for dinner the previous night, I got a lecture about how terrible Lean Cuisines are for me, and was offered to have someone list out all the preservatives in them.

These people I'm talking about make their own peanut butter, brew their own tea (to drink from a mason jar because plastic is bad), and grow a billion different spices on their apartment porches. They also scoff at anything non-organic. Anything.

I get it. I do. Making fresh food is good for you. I can't cook, and I don't choose to learn. It seems like a waste of time to me and if I'm going to take time out of my day to do something, it's not going to be for cooking. So sue me.

I'm not eating Big Macs for every meal, and considering the limits of my diet, I try to eat decently healthy.

Also. I'm a good person. I'm working on my third degree. I'm going to contribute to society and pay for my own healthcare. So what I choose to put in my body is of no concern to you.

Unless it is smoke and in that case feel free to bitch-slap me.

Point is, I have a decent amount of things going for me and at some point I just can't do it all. So one of the things I choose not to do...is cook.

But since I have been dubbed the young, irresponsible one of the group that doesn't cook for herself, I have decided to completely embrace it.

Conversation of the day with a guy who did the Peace Corps in Mozambique and eats seaweed for lunch (no, I'm not kidding):
-Dude says something about his French press
-Me: I drink instant.
-Dude: INSTANT COFFEE? That has to be so crappy. It's so processed. And it has so much less caffeine.
-Me: I like to drink decaf anyway so it doesn't really matter. Plus I know nothing about coffee so it all tastes the same.
-Dude: DECAF INSTANT COFFEE!?!? I can't imagine how terrible that tastes.
-Me: It tastes pretty great if you add enough sugar and flavored creamer.
-Dude: **blank stare**

Hey, if you can't fight em, be obnoxious.

Going Hamm

Thursday night, I decided to be somewhat social and go to the women's soccer game. UNC women's soccer has turned out some big names and the games are always packed. So I joined some other J-school peeps and to the field we went.



If there was one person you would hope to see at a UNC women's soccer game, who would it be?

Mia Hamm. That's correct.

And there she was.





At halftime Mia Hamm came out and talked about her philanthropy, showing off her pregnant belly. Turns out her philanthropy had a fundraising golf tournament that day and her and some other famous alum (Carla Overbeck for one) decided to come watch their alma mater play Duke afterwards.

Luckily it was an incredible game where one of our players scored by flailing her leg while she was on the ground to score in the last three minutes. And we beat Duke, which always means it was a good game.



Toward the end of the game, one guy asked us if we recognized anyone on the bench behind us and I said "No." But another girl did and told me that it was Roy Williams. And thanks to my UNC-crash-course-a-la-Hunter I knew who that was!





(He's our basketball coach.)

I hang with celebrities these days.