back.
In Los Angeles (though not right now) and on the tumblrsphere.
More to come when I’m doing more with my life than enjoying the sweet comforts of home.
I love how we’re all still friends.
This is the first semester where I haven’t been an editor at the Daily Trojan since October 2008. Like a lot of other people, I’m going through what can only be similar to drug withdrawal.
Looking back, it’s easy to understand why.
”
Desire isn’t the problem. The question is whether newspapers will still be relevant at a time when readers are flocking to the Internet and our most solid core of subscribers is slowly dying off, with newsroom cut-backs keeping pace. The antidote for such fear and loathing is, of course, a good story. When you’re in the chase, the adrenaline pumps, minutes seem like seconds, and in your single-minded state you are for all intents and purposes a zombie, ignorant of everything around you and capable of nothing but checking out the lead.
Steve Lopez, in The Soloist. Fitting quote from my favorite columnist, as I’ll be interning at his paper — the Los Angeles Times — beginning in June.
journalism lives.
As seen in the story of the Grim Sleeper, the serial killer who terrorized South Los Angeles in the 1980s who was just nabbed by LAPD. The thing is, no one knew about him until Christine Pelisek wrote a kick-ass article in LA Weekly.
Here’s a story about her story, and here’s the original story itself.
This is what I want to do.
”
Felt like I was in Hawaii in the best way. Everything was warm and fuzzy. It was how life should be. Taking in only the best parts of consciousness, perched under a big, knotted tree with candlelight everywhere. A relieved to be alive moment.
A scene from Zack Jerome’s, LOST ANGELES, http://lostangelesblog.wordpress.com/ (thank you, Clare). Also applicable to summer nights drinking beer on our porch in Portland.
”
No one is going to die.
one of my roommates on last weekend’s white water rafting trip. It was amazing, and no one died.
From our trip to the coast this weekend.
update.
The past two weeks have been insanely hectic, with 14+ hour days beginning at 6:30 a.m. and working on the weekends. Although I’m still covering the Kyron story, things have settled down — meaning I’m getting my life back.
And doing some exploring. We took advantage of the good weather Sunday (it’s FINALLY not raining every day) and went to the Bagby Hot Springs, about 70 miles south of Portland in the heart of Mt. Hood National Forest. I went with three of my roommates and another friend, and it was such a phenomenal experience. Someone built several shelters near the springs, and an irrigation system (made of logs) funnels the hot water into various hollowed-out logs, which serve as the tubs. You essentially pile a bunch of people in and soak in a natural hot tub in the middle of the forest — a much-needed end to an insane two weeks.
But the drive into the forest was, for lack of a better word, breathtaking. The day was stereotypically Oregon — overcast, drizzly and spent driving along a river in the middle of a forest. As much as I don’t like the rain here, the Pacific Northwest truly is beautiful, and I could easily see myself spending more time up here. Portland reminds me so much of a “big city” version of Lawrence — which, I think, is where I want to end up in life.
Also for your viewing pleasure: scenes from the Saturday morning farmer’s market in my neighborhood.
