Of food, 4-H, and piratical nonsense.

Sooo... you know food? That stuff you're supposed to eat so you don't starve to death? Well... I hate it. I really hate it. I'm sick of eating. I think if I could just get nutrients from an IV every day and never have to eat again, I would so do it... That probably wouldn't be all that healthy, either, but I'm really tired of my stupid eating habits and the fact that I hate eating so much. That, coupled with the fact that I'm so against eating disorders and being unnaturally thin... well, an unhealthy thin, anway... I think makes me sort of hypocritical. Ugh. I think I need to start working out some kind of food plan for myself - setting down guidelines for myself on how I want to eat to get healthier. Let's face it - my eating habits suck, and I really need to gain some weight. Schedule. Structure. Plan. I gotta work this out. I'm tired of getting through a day and realizing that I've forgotten to eat. Blug.

I also have good news today... I know... it's always about the news... :) Anyway, my bank account is a little less empty today. I finally got my housing deposit refund back. I don't plan to use it. Hopefully it can stay there for a bit, but it's nice to have something to fall back on.

Once again, I realize just how helpful 4-H was in paying for my first year of college. There was a scholarship I applied for - a $500 scholarship which was to be announced at the livestock show. They didn't call my name, and I figured I didn't get it. They called back later to say they'd given me $750 instead. Plus, the two lambs I sold through 4-H added nearly another $1000 to my bank account. That money has not run dry until now. Blessings, it's true - my family and friends have been such an enormous help - otherwise it'd have been gone ages ago. But this year I'm acutely aware that that extra help from 4-H won't be there. Still, I'm quite grateful for all they've done for me, and won't hesitate to recommend that avenue to anyone else looking for great experience and college help.

I finally found out how much reporting will pay for next semester. (See how much I care, that I haven't even asked until now...?) It's not as bad as I thought it was. A body can't really live on it, but it's a help. Also, for this summer's work with city council, I have been promised a pirate name forthcoming. In some ways, a pirate name is worth more than a paycheck to me.

For those of you who don't quite get what I'm talking about, allow me to explain. The Journal is sort of like a pirate ship, called the Redden Black Pearl, or the Jour'Nal if you like. Non-paid reporters, photographers, and anyone else who volunteers, are deckhands. Everyone who recieves a paycheck is crew. As such, crew (and sometimes deckhands) have pirate names, given to them by the Captain (the operations supervisor). Richard, the art editor, is Blood. No one ever calls him Richard. Kenzie, the editor-in-chief, is Caesar, and we also have Rote, Ziffel, Elwood, Aussie, Square, and a number of others. Note that the piraticalness of the name isn't as important as the fact that the name should fit the person. Ok. Get it? Back to my commentary.

Ever since I stepped foot in the Journal and began reporting, I've wanted a pirate name. Why? Well... it's not the name so much as the acceptance and acknowledgement of belonging that comes with it. I want a name so that I can proudly display it on my computer and say "see? I really belong here! I'm one of you, now!" And maybe it doesn't really make any difference to them. But it sure will to me.

Anyway. That's my overlong, overhashed blog for tonight. Due to the excessive consumption of caffeine, I believe I shall partake of my most recent acquisition from the city library - a book which comes highly recommended by my dad - "Raising the Stones" by Sherri S. Stepper.

Goodnight, folks!
Updates as they come!

--Anna Grace