In August of 2012 I spent hours listening to Bill Overstreet tell his life story, from birth in a small Oklahoma town to current projects — the man was 86 and still had current projects! Tonight I answered the phone after hours to the news that he had died this afternoon.
I think my mom is always waiting for me to develop the nurturing and maternal qualities and skills she possesses. Nobody knew I could cook until I lived on my own, even then, my parents may have been disappointed in how these traits manifest. Once, I came home for a visit and offered to make dinner for the family, cooking the meat separately in case of vegetarians — there are no vegetarians in my family.
Something strange has happened — the real deadline for having a Wearable Art project done is 5 minutes before show time, yet I am already done. I even left the article in the possession of the model so she could practice in it — and so I couldn't change my mind or add to it.
When I read the list of pre-filed bills for the 28th legislature, I was pretty disgusted to see Rep. Bob Lynn was at it again with a voter ID law. For one thing, Alaska already has rules about voter identification. It requires one piece of ID, or a poll worker to know with certainty you are who you say you are, or you can vote a questioned ballot. Voter Fraud isn't an issue around here, or in the U.S. as a whole. So why is there a bill on the table to fix this non-existent problem?
It's been a rough couple weeks for many of us. If the crowd at the Newman boys' memorial was any indicator, I might estimate there are thousands of us in pain right now. More now that we've heard news of Jimmy's passing as well. For some, it's the pain of seeing someone die before their time. For some of us, it's the pain of losing a friend. And it's a really bad kind of pain.
For the week after I found out about the boat accident, I wrote letters in my head to Casey, eventually writing some on paper.
A few years ago, I was celebrating not having to work on a Thursday, Thanksgiving, by going out to have some drinks with a friend of mine; when we entered the bar, a woman greeted us with something like, "Happy Native American Slaughter Day" and I had no immediate response.
By the time Alaska's votes are counted in the presidential elections, it's been called. We aren't a swing state; with our population we aren't even a state people think about. In 2008, I was watching polls in the Mendenhall Valley to be sure they stayed open late enough, that people weren't turned away — the televisions were already announcing Barrack Obama the winner.
It's easy to feel like our voices don't count in a race like that, but yesterday's election was only about our voices. So why did only 25-26 percent of people actually vote?
Working in the field of journalism can do weird things to one's hours. In some ways, it is wonderful — I hate waking up early. In other ways, it is rough. I often find myself eating meals at weirder and weirder hours.
Today I decided to heat up some delicious roasted-red-pepper-tomato soup in a mug in the microwave. To avoid soup explosions and unnecessary cleaning, I choose to microwave in shorter increments and stir. When the time runs out on this particular microwave, the screen reads "YOUR FOOD IS READY" even if your food is, in fact, not ready.