Confession: Love Songs After Dark with . . .

It's 7:00 on a Wednesday evening. The sun is starting to set (accept in Alaska), the work day is ending, the time to relax has begun. What are your plans? Do you have friends to catch up with? Alcohol to consume? Maybe you'll snuggle up with your love. Maybe you will cook and eat a delicious dinner before curling up by a fire. These are all great things to do. I'm about to let you in on a secret. For the past few nights I have had a lovely evening myself with someone I hold very dear. Her name is Delilah.

Now give me a second to bring you back to my childhood. When I was a wee lass I remember listening to the radio in the car. Mom would put on KOSY 106.5 a popular Utah station for adults and mormons both of which fit my mom's demo. As the sun went down the local DJ would finish up his/her segment and pass it along to the one and only Delilah. Now I do not know Delilah's last name. I don't know where she lives or what religion she is. I don't know if she is a doctor or a therapist or has any degree at all. What I do know for sure is that listening to her is the best medicine I could have for a bad day next to talking to my own family.

If you have never had the privelage of listening to Delilah let me break it down. Have you seen Sleepless in Seattle? No? Ok take two hours, watch the movie then come back...

Blech.

I just felt like I needed to write some thoughts down today. I woke up feeling depressed. I hate it when that happens and when I scope through the reasons most of them don't make sense. They are all short term reasons. They are all stupid things and none of them are sporadic, unexpected or in any way life altering. And yet, I feel like I do. I live in Alaska. I shouldn't start feeling depressed until the middle of winter when there is like 3 minutes of sunlight a day. And yet, here I am, constantly at the edge of tears.  So all I can do is try to make sense of what I know is consciously bothering me and hope the depression sinks out of me with every word.

I miss my family. I saw them like 2 months ago but I still miss them. I just found out I won't see them again until January. That's a long time. I'm missing big moments. One niece is growing up and another is about to come into this world and I won't be there; not for the baby shower or the baby blessing. I'll miss holding her in the hospital and decorating a nursery. Some of that maybe I wouldn't do anyway but I would have liked to have to option, you know? Now I found out that I won't even spend her first Christmas with her or with any of my family. I missed Christmas last year too. I know I am making conscious decisions that put me in these situations but it doesn't make it easy to eat fast food on Christmas Day. I just really hope it's easier this year.

I miss my friends too. I have friends in Anchorage, sure, but I miss the ones from Charleston. Talking on the phone is nice but not the same. One has dropped me all together. It's hard to let a friendship die, especially if that person was important to you. Especially if that person drops you without any explanation at all. It's just tough.

Besides that gloom, I'm sick. I hate being sick. It's like all the energy I'm used to having is drained from my body. I'm at the beginning of being sick too, which is miserable. I tried to kick it early without luck so now I just have to wait it out letting each stage take its course. I think about calling in sick to work but that will just prolong the sickness and the depression. If I'm at work my mind will be off by sickness. But when I am at work sick, I'm not at my 100%. I'm struggling to walk from point A to point B. Add 50 pounds of equipment and I'm not doing too well. So then I'm more depressed because I feel like I'm under performing. You see this cycle?

And you know what is best for you when you're sick? sleep. And you know what I can't get at all right now? Sleep. I'm on call this week which means at any point this week work can call me and tell me to go out and cover any story. Now this hasn't exactly happened yet but the looming thought that it might literally keeps me awake at night.

I know I'll get better. I know I just have to endure. I know I have a lot of amazing blessings in my life that I should focus on. Many of these problems are short term like the sickness and the on call. Others are a little longer but still short in the eternal perspective. But all I want is for my mom to make me soup and give me a blanket and let me watch movies as I'm laying on the couch. I'd also like to be 2000 miles closer to my family and be able to date the people I want to date without all the complications life brings in like timing. There is nothing I hate worse than timing. Is that really too much to ask? Ok it is. I'm sorry any poor person that stumbles onto this post. I'm not a cynic. I don't hate life often. When I do it's usually short lived. I just don't like the down times. They make me sad and hopeless. Things work out, life happens, do your best, and any other happy crochet sayings you can think of.

Emily Out.

The Highs, The Lows, and How Everything Eventually Works Out

DISCLAIMER: I've been watching a british comedy called "Miranda" all day. If any British slips in, I apologize.

Do you think we, as humans, crave drama? I mean subconsciously, of course. I don't think anyone wakes up in the morning and says, 'I really want to get a call from an irate friend, or if only I could have a crazy day filled with nonsense I will feel so much better'. But there is a rush I get when I know a rumor or when someone has just confronted me about something involving me. I listen intently, then ponder on it, then ask everyone I know what they think about it. That's the high. It feels exciting for the first few days in a strange, silly way. The low comes after you have dealt with it or after a week or so, when it's not even remotely fun. Anyone that has ever been in the fourth grade knows this. The problem is, in the fourth grade we get addicted to it, and for some it takes well into their early 20's (or longer) to get rid of. I know. That's a decade.

So how do you deal with it? How do you work out the drama-rama? No I'm actually asking. No I'm not. Or am I. No. Or- ok really though. Here was my latest method.

Let it go Oh sorry I heard that phrase was banned in the colonies. I mean move past it. Not the situation, but drama altogether. I mean look at yourself. Look at those wrinkles. Check out that nasty clicking jaw caused by stress clenched jaw syndrome (true story). This isn't healthy. When faced with drama, say NO. Similar, you may notice, to what you might answer when facing crack-cocaine (more commonly known as "the drugs") or a boyish attitude late at night. So what if this drug dealer doesn't take no for an answer. What if that stupid man face tries to push his luck. Well we run away. "run away and never return" ~Lion King, Scar/Simba circa 1994. Ok but let's get realsies here. It's really not worth it right? Drama was fun in the fourth grade, it made for some good talking points in high school, but aint nobody got time for that in their 20s. Sometimes this means losing friends, sometimes it means staying in on a Saturday night, sometimes it means moving across the country (foreshadowing....), but mostly it means choosing healthy relationships rather than toxic ones. Looking at the longterm, rather than the short term. It's hard in the beginning but if it's right it gets easier.

Lastly things do work out. Sometimes not how you would expect them to, but they do work out. I've learned you can't live in fear of what is to come. You can't be worried about other people's choices when there is nothing you can do to change their minds. You must move on with your life. Move forward. Take care of the things you can control and trust that everything else will work out. You will learn to be happy wherever life takes you as long as you are living the way you should be, working hard to put the stress and drama behind you.

Story(s) of the Week: A Flood of Tears

I have a pretty fantastic job. I get to go out every day and experience something new. Sometimes it's not that great. Sometimes I am stuck at a meeting for three hours trying to stay awake and make my video somewhat interesting. Those are not necessarily fun days. But for every boring days there comes a day once in a while that is so awesome I have to remind myself it's real life. Basically I'm pretty lucky. I have tried to document these days through photos to Facebook or writing them in my journal but I think the best way to do it is on here. My goal is to write to you dear reader(s) about my favorite story of the week. Not about how I shot it or how I edited it but about the experience behind the camera, what I was feeling and thinking as I stood in the center of a situation.

Now normally I would be able to boil my week down and find one story that stands out but this week there were two stories that really stood out for completely different reasons. The first, is an emotional journey that every journalist and photographer has experienced I think, the other is just a fun story that I would have never experienced in Utah, my previous home.

To Lose a Son
When you think of the media, what comes to mind? Amazing artists? Kind hearted investigators? Probably not. To many people they think of the media as emotionless robots who knock on your door and demand interviews about things you don't want to talk about. They get in your face with a camera, waiting for a soundbite that will lead the newscast. Well if this is what you think, you are wrong. We are human, just like you. We feel loss and pain and we are very aware of the grief someone goes through when something bad happens. Our goal is not to exploit but to help memorialize a victim and bring wrongdoers to justice, to show what is wrong with the world so that someone will see it and get out of their abusive situation or say something when they see it in another person's life. This week, I participated in a story about homicide. Without going into details I'll say that this person was taken from his family too soon. We had the opportunity to speak with the family and interview the victim's father. As we walked into their home we were greeted with warm smiles which quickly turned to tears as we asked how they were holding up. The family was very kind and we took our time, not wanting to rush them into an interview. I saw how this death affected every part of their life. They weren't sleeping, they had mail stacked up, as hard as the death in itself was, it was only the beginning of what they had to deal with. As we eventually sat down and began to talk with the father he shared memories of his son's life. He talked about his death and how it was affecting the family. Then he said something that was the final straw for me. He said he was going to try to live his life more like his son did, because he looked up to him. He wasn't the only one with tears in his eyes in that moment. It was very clear to me in that moment how much this victim was loved and how hard his passing was on them. As someone who loves her family very much, I think that was the best way he could ever memorialize his son. It was a beautiful moment and I was grateful to share in the emotion of the moment. I believe that we are too often afraid to cry or show emotion. I cry all the time! When a friend leaves, when a moment hits me in a movie, when I feel heartbroken, or scared, or like in this case empathetic. To share in human emotion is a blessing. I was grateful for the experience I had with this family. The next time you look at the media please try to remember that we feel the same as you, if we are knocking on your door understand the reason we are there for a reason, not for the drama, but to help tell a story that we feel is worth telling.

Up to my ankles
My least favorite thing about Charleston is the bugs. Roaches the size of my big toe (shiver) I just can't deal. But my second least favorite thing is definitely the flooding. My first year here there were several rain storms. Downtown Charleston is crowded enough. Add in a few inches of rain at high tide and you are in a very sticky situation. Add in afternoon traffic and you will hide in a hole until the world is back to normal. Welcome to Wednesday afternoon. The rain started around noon and wasn't going to stop anytime soon, so my reporter and I decided to make the most of it. We grabbed the gopro and a couple of rain jackets and headed into the unknown. I had some sturdy rain boots and two layers of rain gear for the camera. I was not afraid of the elements. Have you ever stood in the middle of a straight downpour without trying to avoid it? It's amazing! I've seen people do it and always thought they were crazy. Suddenly it was my whole goal. The point of my day was to capture this storm. And capture I did. I put the GoPro on the bottom of the car, right next to the tires, even in the flood water as cars sprayed water everywhere. I stood in the flood waiting for cars to drive by. For three hours I WANTED it to rain. My passion for the story showed as I brought it back to the station and threw it together for the news. I'm sick now. Sore throat, most likely a cold I picked up from the storm. But was it worth it? Heck yeah!

2 Completely Different Lives

Two thousand one hundred and eighty-two miles. It seems and looks like quite a long way but in the words of Annie James, "Sometimes it feels much further". Those two thousand miles is what separate me from my home in Utah. I took the six hour flight last week to see my family and friends. I left South Carolina feeling older, excited to show how much I had grown up. I had expectations. But now as I reflect on that trip a week after getting back to Charleston, I realize something: I haven't changed at all.

Ok now I don't mean I haven't changed at all because I have. If you talked to me in college before I left then flew out here and talked to me you would see two very different people. My experiences have made me grow. My mistakes have strengthened me, made me made me harder, less penetrable. But what I realized when I went home was that the environment I left and walked back into was the exact same and therefore I turned back into the person I was. Heck, I could hardly tell anyone anything about Charleston because I was so far removed from the environment.

Those two worlds rarely overlap. The people I see and the things I do in each place don't have much to do with each other so I don't force it. As I returned to Charleston the switch I flipped was almost tangible. I flew down over the Cooper River and the people who were texting me were different, the home I returned to was different, my week was suddenly full of different problems and concerns that had nothing to do with Utah. I've hardly talked about my trip to anyone here in Charleston because let's face it, they don't care. It's a world they don't know anything about.

Part of this makes me sad because if I had the opportunity to share both worlds with someone it would make transitions smoother. I could talk about both worlds with someone who understands, who wants to hear about it. But I've been working on something lately. I want to work on living in the present. When I have expectations I am usually disappointed. What I hate the most is when plans are made. Big awesome beautiful plans that give you the happiest feelings in the world. Then those plans are suddenly cancelled. It makes me wish the plans weren't made at all. I can't be disappointed if I don't have expectations. I dunno, just a random tangent.

Anywho, so it really isn't bad to have two separate lives. I can have the part of me that is here in Charleston, and the part of me that lives in Utah. Both places are great, both have people who care about me and have struggles but both are who I am now.  I think what scared me was going home and feeling like I wasn't different. Like I had to be pulled back, but I don't. I grow, I'm different now. For better and worse, I am different.

2am

Yeah, It's 2am and I'm awake, not really sure why I'm writing this post. If you read this it'll be at a decent hour, not 2am. Maybe you should stop and wait until it is 2am to read this. I think it will make a lot more sense. Ok see you in a few . . .


Ok is it 2am? Good. Geez I know that was a long time and your now so exhausted that you will probably fall asleep reading this midsenten-

Still awake? I'm so proud. Ok so all this post is going to be is a 2am confessional subtly talking about all the things I have, don't have, and want in my life. Some will make more sense than others.

Love. Isn't that always the way. A whiney girl talking about the fact that she's almost 80 (in mormon years) and not married? #mylife. It's fine though really I have lots of guys I like, that's pretty much the same thing right? Unless those guys won't give you the time of day or haven't quite noticed you exist yet. So you have two options right? Fight for said men or put all emotion and energy into work using it as the excuse for being as my friend would say 'forever alone'. (The irony is this said girl is no longer alone :))

Work. That promotion you just aren't getting, that compliment you are fishing for but won't come. That paycheck that just needs to come a few days sooner. The vacation days you never learned how to file for. That is work. But once in a while it's great.  I had a great night tonight.  I laughed and talked with coworkers.  I liked it. I didn't feel stressed.  I want more of those days. Getting there. Work is relatively good I just wish I didn't have to make mistakes to learn from them.

Friends. Guess what? I'm not a good friend. WHAT? I know you're all opposing to this crazy outlandish statement. Get it out, yell at the top of your lungs all the things you love about me.  Done? Ok I don't mean I'm not a good friend short term. That's what I'm good at. A couple months at a time but there has come a time with 90% of you that I've had my freak out. I get too close, I trust too much, one of us gets hurt and I shut down. It's my thing. 80% of you forgive me and we become semi awkward comfortable friends and the other 20% of you won't read this unless it's out of spite to find out if I'm miserable without you. I am. Sorry. I've done it to all of you even my best friend. Middle school was a rough time for our friendship but we still call each other every birthday because it wouldn't be the same if we didn't at least say hey. Love her to death!

Fiction. Tiiiiiiivaaaaaaa! Everything hurts. I'm done.

Ok I got it all out of my system and you're all asleep by this point unless you read this at a decent hour in which case you are insanely confused by at least one statement in the last 4 paragraphs. If you've made it this far you deserve something great.

Tina Fey awkwardly dancing. You're welcome

 I love you all readers! Now go to sleep, especially if it's not 2am cuz it is here and I'm doin laundry!

There's No Save Point

Ok everyone it's time for a video game analogy. Now if you are into that hippy dippy X-station PS Wii nonsense I can't really help you out, but I think it's time to go back to Super Nintendo, maybe Super Mario World.

 So in Super Mario World there is a ghost house in the very beginning of the game.  It's insanely easy especially if you have a cape because you can basically fly through the entire thing.  After you beat a ghost house you can save.  Now whenever you get a game-over, you go back to the place you were when you saved.  It's common to save when you get low on lives or after you beat a really hard level.  There are so many different routes to take though that sometimes you will save right before you start one route and if it doesn't work out you can restart and take a different one.  Herein lies my genius analogy for the evening!

Don't you sometimes wish you could go back to your last save point in life? Pick a point and say, "ok this is when things were going really good, I'll go back there and do all this stuff a little differently." I sure do. I may go back to 10th grade.  Ah yes, those were the days.  No I'm kidding that's a lie.  I hated high school.  Loved my friends, hated high school.  Maybe I'd go back to 5th grade.  When I was in 5th grade I'd pretend to be Hawk from The Famous Jet Jackson.  I was a lonely kid so there was never anyone to actually play Silverstone but I'd imagine it and it was pretty much just as good. On the playground of Westland Elementary I learned how to play by myself.  My imagination was my best friend (my real best friend was always a grade older than me).

Perhaps I'd go back to high school when all I worshipped the ground my siblings walked on.  I wanted to live their awesome cool college lives! I wanted to be just like them.  I hadn't figured out who I was yet or what I wanted to do with my life. That didn't matter yet.  Maybe it was the perfect time.  I was home, close to them; something I really miss these days.

Maybe I'd go back to Freshman year in college.  I had some amazing friends then.  My friend Rachel literally wrote me a song! Check it out here. We had epic NCIS marathons that year and my roommate Lisa once tore my bed apart and spread it out throughout the apartment complex.  Glad the RA didn't ever find that one out.  That year I grew up and learned to be away from home.  I also learned how to live off a diet of Cheese its and Toast!

Or maybe I'd go back to my senior year of college and appreciate everyone a little more.  My amazing roommates who dealt with my fears of the future telling me I could do it.  My amazing parents supporting me in everything.

Maybe I'd go back to 2 months ago before I made a mistake that is still eating at me. Maybe I'd go back to 1 hour ago before I ok-ed someone to tell me something that hurt me a lot. Maybe I'd go back to two minutes ago before I wrote that or (deleted because I knew I'd regret writing this)

Ok well the point is there are no save points in life.  You can't go back. You can't undo what is done so you either fix it or get rid of it and move on. I don't know how to deal with the current dealings of my life.  I think it will work itself out though I don't know how yet.  All I know is I wish I were an italian plumber right about now.