I can't imagine doing anything else.

One thing I love about my job is the variety. When you're a journalist, you never really know what the day is going to bring you. Sure, you may have interviews lined up but sometimes those interviews can be really boring or interesting or life changing or a million other things. Then there's always a chance of breaking news where something happens right then and you have to drop everything to cover it. I absolutely love it.

I've always been slightly weirded out by how perfect being in journalism suits me and my personality, considering I mostly fell into this profession by accident. And the variety is really great for me. One of my flaws is I get bored really easily and with a job that is really repetitive and predictable, I get bored and frustrated. I've never felt that way when I'm working in a newsroom. There are other reasons why I love doing what I do but today I was reminded why variety plays such a huge part in my happiness as a reporter.

Today I had two interviews lined up. The first was with this husband and wife. The husband is dying of cancer. He doesn't know when he's going to die but at this point, the cancer has gotten so bad it's not a matter of if but when. It was one of the hardest interviews I've ever had to do, from an emotional stand point. Here I was, talking to this man who is dying. Really, seriously dying. He has five kids, the youngest being four years old. She was playing in the other room and would dart out occasionally. He told me that while he no longer fears death and is okay with dying, he's so worried about who is going to take care of his "baby." He gestured to the little girl and it took everything I had not to cry. I was trying to be professional about the situation and it was incredibly hard for me. After the interview was over, I got in my car and immediately called my dad. I told him about the interview and burst into tears. I just had to let loose all that emotion that I had kept in check. My dad was sympathetic and listen to me blubber about this man and his situation. After talking to my dad, I got home, made and PB&J and watched the beginning of Toy Story 3 during my lunch break. I had to pull myself together since I had to return to the newsroom and listen to the interview on my recorder and write an article.

A few hours later, I was at the Cache Valley Fairgrounds interviewing another man for our "Making a Living" segment. It features people in the community with interesting jobs. I was interviewing a man who is a horse trainer and farrier. He has a handlebar mustache that goes a good inch and a half past his chin. He was wearing cowboy boots, cowboy hat, Levi jeans and a plaid button down shirt. I asked him how he was and he responded that he was "finer than frogs." The guy was hilarious. He told me about what he does for a living, which is training both horses and kids for rodeos and horse shows (4-H is big in this county) and he always had a joke or a anecdote to go along with everything. He had me rolling. While I was interviewing him, he was training a kid to rope cattle. There were two calves that the boy on the horse would practice chasing down on his horse and lassoing. I felt like such a city girl around the man, the boy and the boy's father. I never grew up around anything like this so it's all very strange to me. But it was obvious that the man knew what he was talking about and was very good at what he did. Not only that, but it was obvious that the man loved his job, absolutely loved what he did.

After the interview was over, I couldn't help but reflect at what my day in my career had brought me. Earlier, I had a brief mini emotional break down from interviewing a man with maybe a year or less to live. Then I was laughing my ass off at the jokes and stories of a real cowboy. The comparison made me laugh. Not every day is like this when you're a reporter. We have our boring days too. But today kind of epitomizes just how random a journalist's life can be. And I can't imagine doing anything else.

Love you.
Mean it.

Life in Logan so far.

Now that I've lived in Logan for one week exactly, I think it's about time I catch the interwebs up with my oh so important life here.

I have a wonderful little one-bedroom apartment that is more spacious than you'd think. It has a washer/dryer and a dish washer and tons of storage. It's clean, modern and cute. As I said, it's one bedroom, one bath and has a rather big living room that feels a bit empty considering the only furniture in it is my desk on one wall and my two bookcases on the adjacent wall.  I finally have a bed (so nice) and my mom came up the other day and bought me a kitchen table and chairs. This was really appreciated considering I had been eating all my meals on the floor like some kind of hobo. The thing I'm really missing now is a couch. If anyone reading this right now currently owns the couch, thank whatever maker you may or may not believe in that you do. I miss couches.

Anyway, my job is just awesome. I've already written about five articles, all of which have been published in the newspaper. I really love my coworkers. They've all been super helpful and friendly. There's far less swearing than I'm used to in newsrooms (see: City Weekly & the UVU Review) but I'm sure I'll adjust just fine. My beat is the K-12 education reporter which gives me plenty of stuff to do. Today I was with the Logan School District Board of Education as they visited Mount Logan Middle School. Seeing all those pre-teen/teens running around made me so grateful that I had the good sense to get out of being a teacher when I did. What was I thinking???

The only real down side to my moving here is I find myself feeling terribly lonely. I don't really know anyone. Thank goodness my old friend Maggie was smart enough to let me know that she lives here and I'm hoping to have dinner with her soon. My aunt Dezi and uncle Scott also live nearby and I know that they'll have me over any time I want. But other than that, I find myself alone at night not really sure what to do with myself. I know I want to somehow go out and meet people but I'm not entirely sure how to go about it. How do adults meet other adults in a non-creepy way? I keep telling myself it's only been a week and I can't be expected to have best buddies by now but it's slightly depressing to be all alone so much. I might just get a dog for company.

Love you.
Mean it.

Growing up is a weird thing

Well, this is it.

I'm currently sitting in my nearly bare bedroom with Randy beside me. My room is bare of nearly all my possessions minus my furniture. Everything else is packed up and in either my garage or in the downstairs living room. It's funny when you pack up everything you own. Two thoughts come into your head. The first is how did I ever acquire so much crap? The second is does all of this add up to my life? I hope the answer to the latter is a firm no. I don't even want to begin to answer the former.

I'm moving up to Logan on Monday. Well, I'm officially moving on Monday. I'm starting to move my stuff in on Sunday. And it looks like I'll be doing it all by myself. My folks are taking a mini vacation to Yellowstone so the plan is that I'll take up as much of my stuff as humanly possible and then my folks will bring up what's left and my furniture, including my bed. Until then, I will be sleeping on a sleeping pad–the same kind we use on camping trips.

I start work at my new job at the Herald Journal on Tuesday. It's an exciting time to be Kelly. I am now a professional reporter, though it is taking my brain a bit of time to wrap around that idea. I'll be working full-time, coming home to my beautiful apartment that I rent by myself, and doing adult type stuff like pay bills and cook dinner. I know it may seem silly for a 24-year-old girl to be dazed by the idea of being an adult but honestly, it's hard to feel like one when you live with your parents.

I feel as if my life has really finally begun. Or rather, that new part of my life that I've been wanting and waiting for desperately for so long has finally begun. I've wanted this so badly. It's a funny thing though. Now that I've started my career, I'm moving out, and finally getting on with my life, I'm feeling a bit daunted. There's this feeling of "now what?" I've wanted this for so long that it's starting to feel a bit weird not having it to look forward to. I guess now the only thing left is to do my job, do it well, settle into my new life, and enjoy it. Should be fun.

Growing up is a weird thing. When we were younger, we saw people who were 24 or whatever and considered them to be "grown up." We even call them "grown-ups." But now I find myself at that age and I certainly don't feel grow up. I feel like I've always felt, that I'm making this up as I go along. I guess when I was younger, I had the impression that grown-ups knew what they were doing, that they had a plan and knew what their life was. I don't feel any of those things. But I don't feel like I've done something wrong or that I'm the exception. Rather, I know that it was the younger me who got it wrong. I don't think any grown-up really knows what's going on or what they're doing with their life, at least, not until they're in they're middle-aged. I'm still fairly young and I think it's okay if I don't know what I'm doing or that I feel like I'm making it up as I'm going because, as the good Doctor once said, I'm doing it brilliantly.

Love you.
Mean it.