N is for new

It's been more than a month since I last posted to my blog, and so much has happened since then. Instead of having one long, streaming thought that you could probably only follow if you've ever spoken to me in person, I decided to create a list of the new stuff in my life. This post is brought to you by the letter N for new!

1. Check out the awesome header! 
My dear friend Maddy Meatte is a very talented graphic designer and she used her mad creative skills to create the fantastic new top to my blog. She asked what I wanted and I said, "pop art with some Mexican influence" and this is what she came up with. I'm in love with it. It's cute and kind of a throwback to comic books, which I secretly like (and now that cat's out of the bag.)
But more about Maddy: She will design just about anything you need on paper. She just started her own etsy shop  where she has created some very cute Razorback note cards, among a ton of other stuff. The girl designs in her sleep, I think. If I was a Razorback fan, I'd buy them. I'm sure she could use the same Razorback guy on a baby shower invite, or whatever you would need. Trust me, she's good. I've already got her down to design my wedding invites whenever I find a guy who wants to marry me. So check out her shop, or visit her blog. She's all sorts of creative. She once made an old TV into a digital photo frame. Talent, I tell ya!

2. I've moved on up in this business. 
If you get to see my Facebook posts on your News Feed, I'm sure you were surprised about a month ago when I announced that I had a new job. Yes, I did get a new job in February of this year, but it wasn't my cup of tea. I was designing a lot of pages. A LOT OF PAGES. Sure, designing newspaper pages is fun for awhile, but it lost it's luster when I went from doing 6 to 7 pages a day, to doing whole newspapers. I wasn't writing a lot and I didn't get to be a part of a community. I knew I wanted something different, which is when I got the call from my current boss. He said something along the lines of, "I know you've won awards for writing news stories, so if you're not writing news stories, you're not reaching your full potential. I want you to work for us and write news." So that's what I did -- though the getting the job wasn't that easy. I've slightly embellished the whole process. Nevertheless, I'm now the senior staff writer at one of the top daily newspapers in the state. Word.
So with that being said, I don't have a lot of free time at the new job, so I don't blog and since I don't have internet at my apartment yet, I can't blog there either. I'm sitting in a coffee shop in my new town, blogging before I go home. I finished my homework about mass communication and rewarded myself by updating my blog. I'm weird, I know.

3. I live in a new town.
Part of the "requirements" of taking my new job was I had to move, which has put me about 30 minutes north of where I grew up. I now live in a rather conservative, small college town, but don't get too excited -- it's still a dry county. They are in abundance in Arkansas.
But I have a sweet new apartment that doesn't have annoying children next door, and it has a balcony. Add to that a walk-in closet, a huge bathroom counter, lots of kitchen counter space, and a whole second half bathroom, and you'll understand why I completely dig my new place.
The only downside to the new town is it really far away from a lot of people I know. It's a good 45 minute drive to class on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday nights. It's an hour and 45 minutes to Russ Vegas. Yeah, I spend a lot of time on the road, but it's nice to come back home to my lovely little place.

4. Grad school is a killer this semester. 
I'm taking nine hours in graduate school this semester, which means I have class three nights a week. After working all day, the last thing I ever want to do is drive to Little Rock, but I keep pushing on because it will be so nice to not have to worry about class once this semester concludes. I'm not going to lie though -- it's tough. I get a little tired of talking about the media, but at the same time, I love talking about it. My Tuesday class just boggles my mind, but in a good way -- like the way a work out class kicks your butt, yet you know it's good for you. Tuesday is a Boot Camp for my brain. Wednesday is a challenge to understand the First Amendment, but I've already learned a lot in there as well. I've looked at this semester as the last 5 miles of a marathon -- five miles seems easy, but after you've ran 21, it takes all you can do to keep moving. I just have to keep moving and eventually, I'll reach the finish when I graduate in the Spring. I have to take comprehensive exams first, which will be in the Spring as well.

5. I don't like even numbers. 
I come from a family of five. There are three children. I like odd numbers, so with that being said, I had to make my list to No. 5. So kids, I'm on a new adventure in a new town with a new job. It's exciting. Every day is a learning experience but in the month since I've been here, I can tell you it's been a great move so far. If you want to follow my adventure closer, follow me on Twitter @MollzFlem.

Otherwise, don't forget to check out all of Maddy's stuff on Etsy. She's an awesome person and I know you'll love her designs. Thanks for reading the whole post. I'll post more and shorter soon. :)

Reality TV killed the video star

Dear Young People of Today:
As you are all walking around jamming on your mp3 music devices, discussing the latest iTunes download, I'd like to tell you about a simpler time. This was a time when that television channel you know as MTV actually had something to watch besides a bunch of Jersey monkeys and knocked-up teenagers. They played music videos.
What's a music video, you ask? (though I'm sure you might not know what a "video" is) A music video is when an artist makes a mini-movie to go along with their popular song of the day. They would spend a lot of money bringing in crews, hiring directors, and perfecting their set in order to create a visual representation of what their song meant.
So once these videos were made, the channel known as MTV would play them, or show you how they were made, or be on set while the videos were being made. The channel was about music and originally, it was called Music Television.
During this simpler time, MTV was the center of the teenage universe. After school, the kids your age were rushing home to watch TRL, also known as Total Request Live. That's when all of the top new videos were shown. And of course you had to watch the top new video in order to discuss with your friends at the lunch table. This was the thing to do. (Rest in peace, TRL.)
And when MTV wasn't showing videos, they were taking you on tours of rock stars houses, or they were showing you how your favorite videos were made. Every thing on the station was about music. At the end of the year, they gave out awards for the best music video. As if MTV's music overload wasn't enough, their sister station VH1 would take you "Behind the Music" to tell you about the crazy antics of some of the country's top bands. They would also tell you a little more about your favorite videos during "Pop-up Video". Do you see the theme hear, young people? Both stations were about music. And it was great.
But then, in 1992, everything started to change. MTV created this show that took "real" people and put them in a house to see what happens when people "stop getting polite, and start getting real." The Real World was born, and it wasn't that staged bullsh** that you watch now. It was quite real. There were no formulas. There was a guy with AIDS. Reality hit this little pop network and the folks at MTV decided to keep running with it.
That's when the reality TV star killed the video star. The MTV you watch today, young people, is nothing like it once was. The original MTV fought hard to get a place in the cable network packages. The original MTV pissed off some moms and politicians. It was a rebellious station and it was proud of that. It brought together all of those who liked music. Now, it is helping to create a generation who wants to be famous by getting on a reality television show.
When MTV started, it created something new, something that had never been done before. And while its shows are still new concepts — like following around a teenage girl while she's pregnant — they abandoned their roots. Hopefully, MTV will return to its music foundation again because there are only so many Jersey kids that you can put on a reality show.

I read. I saw. I almost cried.

Just in case you've been living under a rock for the past week, you might not have heard the big news. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows Part 2 was released at midnight this morning. It's the last movie to be released with the seven book series. All together, there were 8 movies, even though there were 7 books. The last book was so big and so epic that they divided it into two. And let me tell ya, this new one was well worth the wait.
But I'll get back to that in a moment.
For me, this whole Harry Potter culture is more about the books than the movies. I started reading the books shortly after a lot of people younger than me were reading them. The first book was released in 1998, when I was 12 years old. I remember my younger brother actually started reading them first and I really didn't have any interest in the series. As I've said before, I was always interested in historical fiction. I remember thinking that Harry Potter was just a silly, mythical children's book, so why waste my time reading a book that couldn't have even happened?
Boy, was I wrong.
One night, I picked up Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone in our den upstairs. I started reading the first line and I started to get a little curious.
"Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense."
As I was reading, I thought, "Who are Mr. and Mrs. Dursley? How do they tie into this whole 'Potter' thing? I kept reading. And reading more. I was hooked.
They were just so well written. Being as I'm not a creative writer, I was amazed at the world that J.K. Rowling had created. She had dreamed up a whole language, an underworld, and even a candy shop. There were giants, dragons, and house elves. The characters each had their own quirks and while they seemed strange in the "real world," they were accepted in this wizard world. The stories each had a quest and the twists and turns of each quest made them even more exciting. And as each book progressed, they also tied in with each other. Then, there was Quidditch — a whole wizard sport. Rowling just never ceased to amaze me with her characters, story lines, and side characters. She had done something that few writers can do in their lives — she had created a classic, and not just one book, but a whole classic series. It will be able to stand the test of time because the series doesn't discuss HD television, cell phones, or computers. As some have said before, it's the Wizard of Oz of our day.
Now, back to the movies... I really didn't want to see the first movie because I knew it would ruin what I thought of the book. The characters I imagined would have faces now. And the places I dreamed may not be as they are in my mind.
Once again, I was wrong. The movies were done quite well, despite leaving out a few great lines. But this morning's movie — the last one — was fantastic. It was an event, not just another night at the movie.
Tickets for the movie went on sale across the country about a month ago, though they weren't available in my area until a couple weeks ago. The fella bought the tickets online, so we were sure to get in the door. We debated not going to the midnight show. I mean, we are both adults with Monday to Friday jobs. The only people who go to midnight shows are people who can sleep away their Friday, which we could not do. We eventually decided, 'To hell with it,' and bit the bullet for the midnight show.
So on Thursday, once we got off work, we ate some pizza and took about a three hour nap. Then, it was time to head to the Rave in West Little Rock.
The line to get into the theater was wrapped around the building. There were kids dressed up. The television stations were there. It was definitely more than just a movie opening.
We got our tickets at the door and actually were able to walk right in the door because we had the 3D tickets. That certainly was worth the extra money to see 3D.
Each screen in the theater was named after a place in Harry Potter. Instead of having "Harry Potter" on the electronic sign, each sign was a HP location, such as Grimmwauld Place, Shrieking Shack, etc. On a posted on a wall in the theater, someone had painted, "Her body will lie in the chamber forever," a nod to the second movie. Very cool.
We had prime pick of our seats since we were there so early and didn't have to wait in line. We sat next to some young girls who were dressed up with their moms, who were also dressed up. Oh to be young again, haha.
Finally, the movie started. The audience clapped at key moments during the movie. I almost cried at one moment. And at the end, we all clapped again. Because the movie was over, and the series was over. There would be no midnight release of books. There were no more movies to watch. HP Fans had seen the HP actors grow up as we grew up. And now, we all had to part ways, though we could always return to the Weasley House or Diagon Alley in our imagination. The world would always be between the pages, which were so beautifully written by Rowling. I can't wait to experience Harry Potter again with my own children.
Until then, "Mischief Managed."

Recent things I've learned

1. Most of the bookmarks on my work computer are recipes that I found on food blogs. It's not that I sit around and look for food blogs to read, I just stumbled upon them while awaiting a call back. Apparently, this food blog thing is HUGE and I'm kind of glad I don't have one. There are a lot of elements that I think make a great food blog, such as good photography, correct recipes, and a enticing end product. I think posting about my recipe accomplishments via Facebook is good enough. This blog is definitely my favorite, by far. I'm going to make one of her recipes this weekend. What recipe, you ask? Chocolate covered beer marshmallows. (The cake on the food blog in the picture is the recipe for my mom's birthday cake, which will be finished on Sunday.)

2. When driving around the region, I know where a lot of the softball fields are located. Within the past six months, I've been on Interstate 40, Interstate 540, Interstate 30, and everywhere in between. Through all of that traveling, I could recollect playing softball at a number of the small towns along those interstates; and some of them I could tell you the exit. Those fields may not be there anymore, but I do know that some of my favorite memories of growing up have been spent on those fields or around those fields.

3. I think about mass communication a lot. I think about studies that could be done quite often, not that I'm going to do them anytime soon. For example, have you noticed there are more single dads in commercials now? I wonder how that has changed in the last 10 years? And have you ever noticed how many male voices are on the radio? I wonder how much radio time is consumed by male voices. Obsessed a little? Maybe. I blame grad school. I miss being in class this summer. Remind me of that when I blog in the fall about not wanting to be in class.

 
4. I don't know how to read for fun.  In the last 10 years, most of the books I've read have been for school. In the summer, I read books based upon other people's recommendations, or whatever Harry Potter book had just been released. But now, I'm out of school (nearly), J.K. Rowling has stopped producing Harry Potter books, and some of my friends don't have the same reading tastes as I do. I'm a big fan of fictional history. I've been reading the stuff since I was a kid. When most girls were reading The Babysitter's Club, I was reading The American Girl series, which is American history told through the eyes different girls. I always liked reading the back of the book because it included the true facts about the time period of the book. I never read the Judy Blum books or anything along those lines. I read about the Holocaust, the Civil War and the Revolutionary War. These things were real — and they just made more sense. Reading the Harry Potter books was a big stretch for me. So now what should I read? Books I want to get my hands on this summer include; The Help, The autobiography of an execution, and The lost city of Z. So if you have these books from the Central Arkansas Library System, please return them so I can check them out. Thanks.

5. Being a grown up is hard. Do you remember when you thought that being a grown up would be cool? It's not nearly as cool as I thought it would be. Sure, driving your own car is cool; but putting gas in said car is not cool. And getting to come and go as you please to your own place is pretty rad. But paying for that place, and making sure that place has modern amenities takes some money. Luckily, I have a job that can be exciting, especially when you get to stand about 10 feet away from Kaley Cuoco (aka the hot girl on The Big Bang Theory), so paying those bills isn't as soul-straining as it might be for other people. Life would just be a lot more fun if those bills were all paid for and the car never ran out of gas. I want to live in the world. Oh, I know what that place is called — childhood. Damn.

It's growing! It's growing!

Not too long ago, I posted the initial pictures of my garden that grows in pots. Well kids, those little plants have grown like crazy and they are now producing. All of that care, water and sunshine has worked, along with some organic fertilizer pellets. I think this may be the start of a new love.

Here are the blooms and tiny tomatoes that have recently sprung up on my tomato plants. Both plants in the pots on the ground are blooming, and I have three tiny tomatoes on the Sun Gold Hybrid, which will produce little tiny orange-red fruit. I forgot to take the suckers off the tomato plants, so my plants have turned into bushes. This could be an interesting experiment since most garden experts recommend trimming off the suckers. The hanging tomatoes are still growing; but they haven't bloomed yet.

But the real excitement in the garden is my pepper plants, as seen below.

 

Look at how big those peppers are! They're not quite ripe yet though, as some of them are suppose to be red, though some of them might be green. I should go back and check the labels to see what color they should be. 

And of course, I can't forget the herbs.

 

Basil! And it smells delicious. 

Cilantro. I think I might have to harvest some of this soon.

Here is the overall picture of the garden.

 

The garden gnomes have done a great job with these plants. 

In Memory

When you get a text message and the sender tells you to call them as soon as possible, and then when you text back, and they don’t reply, you know something is wrong.

This is what happened to me three years ago. I received a text message and a phone call that I never expected to receive – a text message and phone call that I never wanted to receive.

The text message was from my former college newspaper editor. The phone call was from my newspaper advisor. They both had to tell me the same thing – one of my best friends, David Scott Berry, had been killed in a car wreck.

I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to react. I couldn’t sit down and cry. I couldn’t run off and hug his parents and be at his funeral. When I received the phone call, and then later returned it, I was walking through the Atlanta Airport with my family, getting ready to board another plane that would take us to Fort Lauderdale, where we would eventually board a cruise ship for the next five days. I was on my way to paradise.

But reality had just hit me hard and fast before I could leave. Reality is a bitch like that.

I managed not to think about Scott for the next few days because I know he would have wanted me to enjoy myself in the exotic locations where we traveled. When I came back, I started to deal with the fact that this name in my cell phone was now just a name, and I would never hear the voice again at the other end of the line.

I hated that I couldn’t go to his funeral. I never got to hug his mom and tell her she raised an amazing son. I was never able to meet his sister who he spoke about fondly. I didn’t get to properly say good bye.

I tried, though. I wrote his mother a letter when I came back, telling her some of my favorite memories of Scott. I don’t know if she ever got the letter, but it helped me in writing it.

Then, a week or so later, I was driving home late one night, listening to the Rent soundtrack, and I just started crying. One night that I was at Scott’s, he cooked me dinner while this soundtrack played in the background. It was such a fun night. He was trying to impress me with his cooking skills. I was just enjoying his company. I still make green beans sometimes like he made that night.

The rest of that summer, I was alright for the most part, but the worst was yet to come.

When I returned to school that year, that’s when I finally started to realize that he would never again walk into the newspaper office.

I had earned the position as editor after my many years of working on The Arka Tech. Scott was the editor for most of the time that I worked on the paper. We used to joke about how when I was editor, he was going to come in and help me with pages; he was our clutch. But that night, the first night I had to lay out pages, I began to comprehend that he wasn’t going to walk through the doors of the StuPub, pull up a rolling chair, and ask me what he could do to help. He wasn’t going to come in and joke about Tommy and Dr. Norton, or Ryan; he was really gone. And it was horrible. We ran a story in our first paper that year about Scott’s death and I couldn’t even write the headline for it. I wrote in the headline box, “I can’t write this,” and just left for the night with tears running down my face. That was never my office. That was Scott’s office.

It was in that office that I first met Scott Berry. It was in that office that we first became friends.  It was in that same office where we ate Pizza Pro Pizza on late nights, and where we hung out with Bailey. He taught me page lay-out in that office. It was in that office that we met before heading out on our first date. It was outside that office that nearly a month later, I told Scott that I just wanted to be friends. And I crushed him.

But eventually, Scott and I would return to being friends; but only before I would move to Houston, Texas for the summer. It was that summer when we lost our friendship. I knew it was going to happen. He told me before I left, “Right when things are getting good, you are going to leave.”

Part of me thinks he felt that I left him and would never return. Part of me wonders if he was jealous that I had gone to Houston and he spent the summer in Russellville. I’ll never know. All I remember of that summer is that we didn’t talk a lot, and I hated it.

Once I returned, things were never the same with Scott. But I don’t think about that. I think about the good times, like going to Altus for dinner at this little pub in downtown. Or coming home for Easter to find tulips at my house that he had sent me. And there was the time we got tired of talking on the phone, so we went Lock and Dam to drink wine from plastic cups and smoke cigars. I still remember walking into the Hampton Inn to tell Tommy we wanted a room for the night (and Scott couldn’t keep a straight face.) I still think about that when I drive by that Hampton in Russellville. Those times, when it was just me, him, and the River Valley night sky – those moment are what I’ll always remember about him.

And now, three years later, memories are all I have left of Scott. He was one of my first friends in college. He was one of the first people -- who wasn't a teacher -- to tell me that I had some talent in this newspaper thing. He also showed me a little favoritism since he was a graduate assistant in one of my classes I took. He believed in me. I just wish he could have believed in himself some more.

David Scott Berry was a wonderful man – one I’ll never forget. If everything happens for a reason, then I think the sudden loss of Scott was to teach us to cherish our friends. While our family are to be loved and adored, great friends are to be held tightly as well. Great friends cannot be replaced. I always thought I would have more time to rekindle the friendship that Scott and I once had – but I guess I was wrong. I think that’s the lesson out of this too. Don’t count on having enough time to make things right with someone. It’s never too soon to make amends. 

Do your hands write?

When I was in the second grade, I was quite proud of the fact that my teacher put one of my writing assignments out in the hall because I had good penmanship.
Then, my writing success continued in fourth grade as we learned cursive. I could curl my letters just as well as any adult, and I was quite excited about that fact.
But as time has progressed, my handwriting has gone from the top of the class to doctor quality. I blame it on my constant scratching down of notes during meetings, or while I'm in an interview. My handwriting has changed from a pretty, neat print to a hybrid-mess of cursive and print. Most of the time it's legible. Other times, I have to use context clues to figure out what I wrote. It can get ugly, trust me.
I learned to have good handwriting in school because computers were just something that you used in a special class once a week. You went to "computer class" to play games like Oregon Trail and Amazon Trail. Then, in high school, you learned proper typing techniques and how to not look at your hands while you type.
But will the youngsters of today know the importance of hand writing? Will they have to know it?
I saw a piece on CBS Sunday Morning News about the decline in hand writing, which saddened me because you can tell a lot about a person from their hand writing. Cursive has even been removed from some school curriculum, according to CNN.com, so it's only a matter of time before it is lost completely in society. (As you know, schools are teaching for tests these days, so if cursive isn't on a test, students don't need to learn it, according to the logic of many schools.)
Handwriting in school was almost a write of passage. All of the long, tedious papers had to be written first on notebook paper. I remember having to hand write the rough draft of my high school term paper, and then the final drafts were typed. Your hands actually hurt when you were done, but you knew that was part of being in high school. You would even get that little notch on the side of your finger from holding your pen so long. It didn't kill you, but it made you curse at your teacher a bit. And it made you even happier when you wrote those final words on that lined notebook paper  — you had survived. And while a nice curvy font can appear as cursive, I don't think anything can ever replace actual hand written cursive text. My grandparents and parents may be among the final generations to use cursive daily. I remember when I first learned cursive, and I thought it was so cool because "that's how the adults write." I was another step closer to being grown up.
But I don't think a lack of handwriting is anything to fear — just yet. I am honestly more concerned about the butchering of our language because of the digital age. While I am guilty of using the usual text abbreviations like "ur" for your, and "abt" for about, I make a very conscious effort to not use those words when I write formally, such as in a story or a paper for school. Yet, students these days often do not understand the difference in the two occasions and will still use texting shorthand in their formal writing. I want to scream whenever I see these words used outside of a cell phone screen. In fact, I was driving by an elementary school the other day and the sign read, "Yearbooks R in." Yes, I do understand that vinyl signs are notorious for using shorthand, I was more upset that the SCHOOL was doing that — and an elementary school where students are still learning the basics of language. Sigh.
I can only hope that parents will still make their children write as much as they can and develop legible handwriting. Good penmanship says a lot about a person, as well as society. Sure, our penmanship isn't as elegant as the forefathers, but it tells a story of who we are as a culture. I don't want our story to be told in typed print.

Go baby go!

I love running. I hate running. That pretty much explains my relationship with the sport.
Yes, it's a sport. Some people consider it punishment, or a way to get away from an enemy.
I consider running as that time that I don't have to return a text message, or read an e-mail. It's my time to just get deep inside my mind and think about those random thoughts that often result from a run. If you were to look at my college newspaper, the papers that were created after a good run were always better. Always. Running really does help your thought process.
The thing I love most about running is that you get to see things — well, you notice things that you don't often notice as you are driving in a car. I learned how to navigate my way around my College Town because I ran it all the time. And I have ran SO MANY country roads in my Home Town that it's not even funny.
And while running so many roads gets a little monotonous, it's very cool to be able to say, "Hey, I've ran this road," or "Hey, I've ran up this mountain." A lot of the streets in downtown Little Rock and North Little Rock I have ran because of local 5Ks and the Little Rock Half Marathon. Did you know there's a hill up Capital Avenue? Yeah, it's a long, slow incline that really is a pain. But you can't notice that in your car... you have to run it.
But I'm not the only runner (a term I use loosely) in my family. My mom is a marathoner and my dad runs too. It was his idea that to celebrate his 60th birthday, the family would go to Louisville, Kentucky for the Kentucky Derby Marathon. He wanted to finish his first marathon on his 60th birthday. So that's what we did this past weekend — and it was a jolly good time.
We left around noon on Thursday, drove all day, and then the race was on Saturday. I was signed up for the half marathon, and my mom was going to run the full as well, but due to a recent fall off her bike, she opted for the half. We didn't run together. I don't run with anyone I know during races. I like to set out on the adventure on my own.
And ladies and gentlemen, that's exactly what it was. It was a 13.1 mile adventure that I survived (and I say survived because I didn't really train as well as I should, which is kind of my reputation.)
The race started at 7:30 a.m., and after a crappy night of sleep, my parents and I headed down to the start, which is where I remembered one of my favorite parts of running — the walk to the start. At every walk to the start, there's just this feeling of excitement/anxiety/fear/togetherness that we are all about to start on a trek — and only the strong will survive. Well, the strong out of 15,000 registered runners on Saturday. Here's where I was at the start...

 

So at 7:30 the gun went off... and I just stood there. I had my regular start song all ready to go on my iPod. About 15 minutes later, I crossed the start... and the adventure had begun.

As I said before, I wasn't all that trained to run 13 miles. I had been running, but I hadn't really built up my leg strength to keep running for 13 miles. I knew that with my hard headedness, I wouldn't stop and I would eventually cross the finish. To get there, I created a plan to run to every mile marker and then walk 2 minutes, and then keep running. This plan worked out quite well. It kept me motivated to not stop for anything pointless, and I kept a pretty good pace. 

Then, some poor planning on the race directors part took off a lot of my time because there was a very big shortage of bathrooms. The Little Rock Half Marathon had spoiled me. I was used to a lot of bathrooms at every mile stop. Who would think otherwise?! Alas, I eventually made it back to my running plan and the run continued.

The race took us through some less scenic areas of Louisville, then we eventually were able to run through the main attraction of the city — Churchill Downs. I was more than excited because not very many people can say they have ran through Churchill Downs. Bragging rights are definitely some great motivation for running.

 

Once we made it through Churchill Downs, I was starting to realize that I was going to survive and I only had about 5 more miles to go until the finish. 

All along the run, I could tell that I was starting to develop a blister on the inside of my right foot — my usual blister spot. Then, between mile 10 and 11, I felt a rather interesting feeling. At the place where I knew there was a blister, I suddenly felt some liquid disperse on my sock. That's right, my blister had popped while I was running. It was kind of a cool feeling. 

I walked the rest of that mile so my foot could adapt to the open skin. I picked back up on my run as I suddenly came across this group of supporters in the middle of the street, holding beers. I grabbed one of their beers and just kept on going, eventually getting it out of his hand. I took a few swigs, felt a new burst of energy, and popped some hard candy — I was on my way to the finish.

As I was running with less than 2 miles to go, I came across some ladies that were also losing energy as the finish was getting closer. We decided to join up, and with their help, the three of us crossed the finish (though I'm fairly certain the finish line was moved, haha).

I didn't finish in a record time, but I finished. I know I can do better. And I plan to do better. The race revitalized my love of running, and actually made me look forward to running again. I don't know when I'll do a big race again in the next few months, but I do want to work on my 5K time, and my distance running. I also need to get back on my bike and into the pool. Since my education is wrapping up, and I no longer work for a daily paper, I need to try and make more time for the exercises I love. There will always be something going on my life, I realized this weekend. As the saying goes, "You make time for things you want to do." I want to run/bike/swim. Now I just need to make time for it. Looks like I'll be watching the sunrise.

P.S. We ate at two Food Network related restaurants. Since there weren't Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives locations, we ate at Lynn's Paradise Cafe, featured on Throwdown with Bobby Flay, and we ate at The Neely's Bar-B-Que in Memphis. They have their own Food Network show. Lynn's was fantastic! And The Neely's was good — who would have thought of BBQ Spaghetti?

P.S.S. My dad did finish his first marathon on his 60th birthday in 5 hours and 18 minutes. :)

How does your garden grow?

I love pickles. Sweet, cold, crispy crunchy pickles. Yum.
And as if the average grocery store pickle can't get any better, I'm a sucker for the homemade pickle. For example, at the Capital Grill in Little Rock, they make their own pickles. That is one of the many items that will keep me coming back to that place... It's soo good... But, I digress.
So a couple of months ago, I started tossing around the idea of growing my own cucumbers so I could make my own pickles. I figured that if I was going to make my own pickles, they were going to be my cucumbers as well. They were going to be 115 percent homemade.
But then reality kicked in -- I live in an apartment. I don't own land that I can tear up and make my little cucumber farm. Further research showed that pickles can't be grown in pots because they spread across the ground. Thus, my dream was crushed. I will have to settle with buying cucumbers at the Farmer's Market and making them into pickles. I'll keep you updated on that adventure.
But my dream of being a gardener was still alive. My parents aren't really into the vegetable gardening scene, they're more flower gardeners. We did have a garden when I was a kid and we had a fenced in yard, but we haven't had one since.
My grandfather, on the other hand, is a gardening expert. He grows a TON of tomatoes. And onions. And good Lord, who knows what else. And he's 80 something years old.
My aunt and uncle also keep a garden, which always produces delicious vegetables, especially some great corn.
So with this much gardening in my family, I figured I was destined to garden greatness.
Once again though -- I don't have a yard.
Therefore, I have resorted to an urban garden: I grow my vegetables and fruit in pots. With the help of my fella, we spent a Sunday afternoon picking out plants, soil, containers, and seeds. It was a fun trip to Lowe's.

 

I am growing three different types of peppers and I have two upside-down tomato plants, along with a little herb garden. Everything seems to growing quite well, despite a slow start and some crazy Arkansas weather. 

Here are the upside tomato plants -- which were started with seeds, mind you. They have to grow five inches tall, and then I get to flip them over and hang them. I think I will replant the other little sprouts because there are only suppose to be one plant per little hole, despite planting three seeds per hole. I might have a lot of tomatoes by the middle of the summer.

 Here's another picture of the tomatoes and my herb garden. It will someday have cilantro, basil, and oregano. It has a few sprouts, but nothing dramatic yet. This could be a bust.

And here are my beautiful pepper plants. They were started with little plants, but they now have buds on them, so peppers are in the works. I need to get some posts for them because as you can see, they are leaning a little bit. 

So this is what I'll be doing this summer. I'll keep you up to date on the progress. And I might even have peppers, tomatoes, and herbs to give away. Keep your fingers crossed.

"Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow?" Mine grows in pots. I love it.

We will survive

Whenever people hear that I'm a newspaper reporter, often times they reply with, "That's kind of dying business, isn't it?"
I have to disagree. My response is, "Well, someone has to write the news that is posted online."

While I have read the countless stories of newspapers going bankrupt, and communities being left without a paper, I like to think that somewhere out there, newspapers will still exist for at least another 20 years.
For you see, not everyone in this country is getting their news from the internet. For that to happen, every person in the U.S. would have to own a computer, or have daily access to it. And given the economic situation this country is currently in, I don't think that will happen anytime soon. I do realize that people can access the internet through wireless networks and cell phones, but once again, the same problem still remains -- people need to have a device to access the internet.

Therefore, the complete death of the newspaper is being protected by the internet boundary since not everyone has access to it. Small town communities still have lively newspapers. They may not be thriving, but people are buying them, if only to read the obituaries.
Now, according to our president, he wants to put internet access in the hands of everyone, and if that is possible (and he gives everyone a computer), then yes, the newspaper business will see an even more dramatic decline.
But it won't die -- just yet.
Many people 50 and younger are used to doing everything online. Yet, there are still some that are 50 and over that would rather turn on their lawn mower than turn on a computer. They want nothing to do with a computer and would rather read the hard copy of everything -- from their bills to their news.
When this generation (which includes my lovely parents) eventually goes to see the Good Lord, then I fear that the newspaper will meet its demise. The lifeblood of a newspaper is advertisers, and with so many digital forms of advertisement out there, the new generation of business owners will not want to resort back to the "old fashioned" way of advertisement. They will want to reach their customers as often and wherever they can, so the hard copy newspaper will not be their primary source. Thus, they will not invest in hard copy newspapers, they will use their dollars at Groupon or on Facebook.
But even if the newspaper does die in 20 years that doesn't mean the end of the reporter. People will still want reliable news. And like is said earlier, someone has to write the copy that is generated on the internet. Computers can't do everything, people.
Sure, there is this turn to the "citizen journalist," but there are still intelligent people out there who know that the news generated on local social networking sites is really just gossip unless validated by a credible source. A reporter's job is to find that credible source and get all of the information, even if that story will only be posted online.
Therefore, reporters will still be needed. They will still capture the images of daily life. They will still tell the stories of people and their communities.
My biggest concern is that as the newspapers continue to diminish, I often worry about the preservation abilities of the internet. Sure, once you put something out in cyberspace, it's there forever. But will people still print off the pictures of their children from online media sites and put them on the refrigerator? Will honor roll lists and scholarship announcements be posted on media sites? Information such as this is the beauty of the community newspaper. Anyone who grew up in a small town and has had their picture in the paper has probably heard someone tell their parents, "Oh, I saw So-and-so's picture/name in the paper this weekend. That's exciting." Will the online media take that away?
Only time will tell, but I can only hope that history will not get lost as the newspaper moves to the internet. One of the features that I treasure about my job is that essentially, I am recording history. Will the internet still serve as a record of history when newspapers are gone? I can only hope.

What society needs: Chapter 1

Now and then, I might write a few words about what I think would make our society a better place. Don't expect these to be enlightening, rather my outlook on some of the issues I have with this big ball where we're spending our days.

Today, boys and girls, I would like to address a little feature that would make some businesses much better -- the drive-thru window.

I'm sure you're already thinking, "Molly, the liquor store has a drive-thru window. What more do we need?" Much more. I have compiled a list. Enjoy.

1. The post office -- The U.S. Postal Service has stated that it is losing money, which equates to less people are using the post office. I can tell you two reasons why people don't use the post office: 1. There are ALWAYS lines. 2. The hours are inconvenient for anyone who works during the day. I think more people would use the post office if they could go to a drive thru window and pick up a few stamps, or have their package weighed. I don't think there would be lines at the drive thru because the older folks would still go inside. Therefore, those of us in a hurry could get our stamps, keep the post office in business, and still send our mail on time. Of course, there would have to be a limit on the amount of mail you can send, including a max weight for packages, but I think it would work out quite well for those who just need stamps or want to send a small box.

2. Subway restaurants -- Yes, I do realize that some Subways have drive-thru windows, but not all of them. Therefore, it's a huge pain if you're in a hurry and you want to eat relatively healthy to go to a Subway. They need to catch up with the times and get a drive thru. Maybe a nearby liquor store can let them use their window during the lunch hour. Sandwiches and booze? Sounds like a sure-win!

3. The grocery store -- You may think that this isn't plausible, but I think it could happen. You know those times when you need two things to get you by until you have to go to the store to restock your shelves? That's when the drive thru would come in handy. Someone could be at the window, ready to get you the two things you need from the little mini version of the store. You couldn't go and get extra virgin olive oil, but you could pick up a loaf of bread and some eggs, or some milk and toilet paper. Those things that we call the staples would only be available in the drive-thru, thus saving you that 30 minutes of going into the store.

4. The Department of Motor Vehicles -- I'm pretty sure there is no way that this place could get a drive-thru, but if it could just get more automated, I think the world would be a much better place. I think nearly every aspect of society has advanced in the last 10 years, except the DMV. Heck, I'd be happier if they just got better chairs. Small steps must be taken before this place can even think about a drive-thru. I think an updated DMV is a sign of the apocalypse.

5. An over-the-counter pharmacy -- I know you can pick up your prescriptions at the drive-thru, but if I'm on the verge of death, the last thing I want to do is walk into Walgreens and pick up a bottle of cold medicine. Heck, I don't think they want me coming in there either. I think a mini pharmacy -- kind of like the grocery store -- would be quite convenient. Just grab your over the counter drugs and keep your sickness in the car. Also, the over the counter drive thru could sell condoms, which would be much more convenient for those teenage boys out there sexing up those teenage girls. Therefore, the over-the-counter pharmacy could help reduce the number of teenage pregnancies. Then, problems in the world would be solved.

Places that should never have a drive thru:
1. The gynecologist
2. A furniture store
3. The dentist
4. Lawyers
5. Salons

This concludes Chapter 1 of my thoughts on what society needs. Tune in next time when we will discuss another exciting topic.

Track: 1, Molly: 0

I like to think that I'm pretty hardcore... sometimes. I mean, everyone has their moments.
My moments of hardcore antics have consisted of running (and walking) up Mt. Nebo in Dardanelle, completing a triathalon, running (and walking) a marathon, along with some other athletic accomplishments. While this may not qualify me as being an badass, I like to think that these achievements are notable.
On Monday, I decided to add to my list of conquests, but only by mere coincidence.
Every Monday since the end of February I have been volunteering at the Women Run Arkansas clinic in my town. I had told the director I would help before I switched jobs, and I decided to stick to that promise.
If you're not familiar with the clinic, WRA helps women build endurance and strength in order to be able to run or walk three miles at the beginning of May at a statewide 5K race. The race is one of my favorite races because it's all women, and it's quite empowering. For some of the women, walking three miles is their biggest accomplishment -- even if it takes them an hour and a half. Finishing the race is a HUGE deal to these women and I'm really excited to be a part of it.
So anyway... back to Monday... I had left work with just enough time to get to the track. You see, it's not the getting from Big City to Little City that is difficult. It's the getting from Big City to Little City's track that is the problem, as the track is kind of off the beaten path, as most tracks are. I mean, there aren't a lot of high school tracks with interstate frontage.
Well on Monday, I was in route to clinic and changing my clothes as I drove down the interstate. (Yes, I know it's unsafe. But I wanted to be on time). I had to be even more on time than usual because the other leader in my group wouldn't be there on Monday, so I needed to be on time.
As I was driving down the interstate, I had finally changed my clothes and was just about to put on my socks when I grabbed my bag and realized -- I forgot my running shoes.
I panicked and quickly went through my options. Okay, I could go back to my apartment real quick and get my shoes, though I would still be late. I could just run with socks. I could run in the cowboy boots I wore to work that day. Or... I could just run barefooted.
I chose to run barefooted. I don't mind being barefooted, so surely running barefooted wouldn't be that bad -- right?
Wrong. I was very wrong. Not only did my speed (the little I have) decrease dramatically as I shuffled along the track, my feet were enduring the track the best they knew possible, which meant my feet were developing blisters. And huge blisters at that. Of course, I didn't realize I was getting blisters until we were done running/walking our 2 miles. That's right, I ran/walked two miles without shoes.
Once we were done, everyone finally realized that I didn't have shoes. I received much praise, and even a "Wow Molly, you're pretty hardcore." Damn straight, I am.
But at the end of that day, none of that mattered. My feet were torn up. My feet hated me. And then, to make things worse, I popped the blisters... and tore off the skin. Extreme pain. Now my blisters were just open wounds.
Now I'm sitting here with my feet -- well, just my left foot because it was my inside foot while I was running -- all bandaged up. I have open wounds (former blisters) on both of my middle toes, since they are freakishly long, and two big blisters on my left foot.
I should have just gone to get my shoes. But then, I wouldn't have something to blog about. So what's the moral of this story: Every good screw up makes for a great blog post. And don't peel the skin off your blisters.

I have the madness

Every year, there is a magical time before baseball season kicks into gear when 64 of the top NCAA Division I basketball teams in the country meet at various arenas around this great land to decide who will hold the title of National Champion.
For as many years as I can remember, I've watched a few of the games. I can remember staying up late at night, watching the championship team cutting down the net, which is a tradition that is only special to basketball champions.
But in the last couple of years, I have partaken in the pastime of filling out the bracket. And this year, I have become a little obsessed, to say the least.
Last year, my managing editor asked me to join his NCAA bracket group on the ESPN website. I thought, "Sure, why not. It will be fun." I clicked on the teams I wanted as I read each team's stats. Important questions had to be answered before one team was chosen over another: Does having a higher points per game make this a better team? What about their overall record -- does that matter?
Once I resolved these issues with each second round team, then the third round was picked, and eventually, I had to pick a champion. Duke won last year, though I don't think I had them picked as my champion.
Picking this year's bracket brought its usual challenges. My only girly pick was choosing Butler to make it to the Sweet 16 because of some friends of mine -- the Butlers -- are good people. Surely, the Butler team would do as well.
This year, ESPN added another aspect to their online bracket -- some sports spectator site basically told you what team would do better. Example: "There's a 98% chance that Ohio State will beat UTSA. You should pick Ohio State." I listened to this nugget of advice on some picks, but then again, you can't predict the future, despite how high the percentage may be. 
After the second round, I had only a handful of upsets. Of course the Louisville/Morehead game was one of them. A lot of teams that I had picked to win -- with hopes of a Cinderella team -- ended up losing by only a few points. Memphis, Michigan State, and Temple made that list of hopefuls. Well, there's always next year.
As the third round played out this weekend, I was met with even more upset. And my obsession became a little more clear. The fella and I went out Saturday night and I continued to check my scores on my iPhone via ESPN.com as we were driving through Little Rock. I was anxiously watching the Butler/Pittsburgh game. We were standing in front of the Rave, debating on what movie to see when Butler tied the game at 70-70. I loudly declared, "Butler just came back!" Then when Butler pulled away for a 71-70 victory, I was more than delighted.
And all of this was just so my bracket would continue to do well. Just for a little grid on a piece of paper. I don't even have money on my bracket. I just don't like to write down the wrong answers, like on a test. I want to be right, gosh darn it.
Another upset came on Saturday night as Kansas State lost to Wisconsin. Heartbreak. I had picked K-State to go all the way to the Elite Eight, especially since they had beat Kansas University earlier this year. Once again, my bracket was a little more torn up.
As the tournament enters the Sweet 16, I actually correctly picked half of the teams that are still playing. Will this little bit of success continue? Eight more games of 40 minutes each will decide their fate.
But it's oh so exciting. The last five minutes of each game -- especially if it's a close game -- are what keep me coming back each game. I love when a team is behind by 15 points and comes back within 5 points by the near end of the game, making their opponent sweat a little more. It's a true test of human character.
And the best part is -- these guys are just college kids. They aren't overpaid NBA stars who date/marry the Kardashians. They're younger than me (which is weird considering they were always older than me). They are playing with heart for the glory of their school. They are playing to bring back a trophy and some nets back to their campus, and for their place in sports history.
But by the beginning of April, it will all be said and done. One team will be celebrating. Another team will be disappointed. And I'll be ready for baseball season, which will get my by until it's time to fill out another bracket.

So where are you from?

I get this question a lot. Or my other favorite, "You're not from around here, are you?"
And the funny thing is, I really am from around here. Well, not technically, but I've had more Arkansas influence in my life than I've had any other state.
I was born in Wichita, Kans. and spent a couple years of my life in St. Louis. Then, since the ripe age of 4, I've lived in the great state of Arkansas.
But my parents were born and raised in Kansas, and since I grew up listening to them talk, I picked up their accent. I say things like, "you guys" and "boughten." I don't say things like "fixin'", "ya'll," or my least favorite "carried," as in, "I carried my kid to school this morning."
Whenever I hear that phrase, I instantly feel sympathy for the person because I could imagine it wore them out to carry their child to school. Then, I translate the phrase into Kansas-speak and realize "Oh, they took their child to school. That seems more logical."
I also try to avoid drawing out my vowels in a Paula-Deen-style. But for some reason, after I've been drinking, or I'm rather sleepy, that Southern accent comes out and I just can't ignore it. I guess it really is there, deep down in me. I'm sure I sound Southern when I'm not in the South, as I'm sure I have a slight twang. It's bound to happen to you when you've lived here 21 years. I just choose to control the little bit of accent I do have.
It's not that I hate the Southern accent, or look down on those who have one, it's just that doesn't fit me. I can't make myself do it. I even sound Midwestern sometimes, especially after I get off the phone with my cousins from St. Louis. But I just can't catch that full-blown Southern draw -- but I'm okay with that.
That's not the only Southern thing I can't catch. I don't like sweet tea. There, I said it. I prefer tea with ice and lemon, and that's it. I can drink sweet tea if necessary, since sometimes it is the only thing to drink. That also amuses me that when people bring tea at events in the South, they automatically sweeten it. I've heard that sugar packets just don't make it as sweet, but I would still like the optional unsweet tea.
I also don't partake in crawdads or catfish. I just can't get over the fact that crawdads are part of the bug family. And I don't eat bugs. With the catfish -- I just don't like fish. I think it smells bad and has a weird texture. To me, the best part of catfish fry events are the hush puppies. Mmmm... yes please!
But there are those Southern dishes I do enjoy and have even come to make. I have recently started to make my own cornbread from scratch after my former newspaper office kind of got me hooked on non-sweet cornbread. I'm also a big fan of chocolate gravy on biscuits -- but only if the chocolate gravy is made correctly (not in the Arkansas Tech cafeteria).
There's a lot about living in the South that I've grown to love. I also think Arkansas is one of the most beautiful states in the this region. Rolling hills, sparkling lakes and ponds, and glistening rivers make this place a great place to live -- despite the unpredictable weather.

So if having blood that is 90 percent sweet tea makes you southern, then I guess I won't qualify. But if loving this area for its hospitality, front-porches, and mosquito filled nights, then I'll gladly claim the South as my home.

Send the very best

If you were to ask a lot of my friends to tell you one thing that I do that no one else does, they would probably list the fact that I send greeting cards.
I'm not just talking about the yearly Christmas card, I'm talking about every type of card imaginable. Easter. St. Patrick's Day. Grandparent's Day. All of those and more.
I don't know how I got started on my card sending crusade, though I'm sure it has something to do with my childhood. Doesn't everything we do have something to do with our childhood?
When I was a kid, my mom was rather diligent about sending birthday cards to our family members. All of us kids had to sign the card and write in a special greeting if we wished.
Since then, being as I am an "adult," I now take the time to send cards to my friends and family members when the occasion arises.
Not only is giving greeting cards an act of days gone by, actually sending the card is almost a way of the past. If you haven't heard in the news lately, people don't really use the post office a lot. I can understand why when the line is often 10 people deep. But still, I trudge on through the wait in order to get some stamps for my cards.
To me, sending a card is about the best way -- without a gift -- to tell a person that you care about them and that you are thinking about them. Sure, an e-mail is nice, but at the end of the day, an e-mail is just words on a screen. You can't feel that. While you can print it out, it then just becomes words on paper.
A card has a story. In the far away land of card makers,  someone is dreaming of the next catchy saying for the inside of the card while another person is thinking of an attractive design. Once the two come together, they create a form of communication that has been around for hundreds of years.
Then the card is sent to a local store, where it is purchased, signed, and mailed. Therefore, someone had to pick out the perfect card for the recipient, write a message if they desired, and then address it and mail it. See how much personalization goes into sending a card? That's a little bit more personalization than typing an e-mail in 12-point font.

So I plan on continuing my card crusade until the post office officially closes its doors. After all, someone has to keep Hallmark in business.

Blogs Shmogs

I like to think that I'm interesting.
In fact, I like to think that I'm so interesting that you will take the time out of your day to read the ramblings I post on this wide world of webs.
With those ideas in mind, I have decided to start a blog, which will basically be a way for me to get my ideas about the world out of my head and into the public. Maybe you'll agree with what I've got to say. Maybe you won't.
I don't really know where I'm going to take this thing, but I do know some things it won't be:
1. It won't be about how to be a good mother in the high-tech world of today. I don't have kids. Or a husband. Or even pets. The closest thing I have to any of those items is a couple of cacti my grandmother gave me. And so far, they are doing quite well. Maybe I'll post about them and rave about how well they are developing into productive cacti of the world. (No offense to the MomBlogs. There really are some interesting MomBlogs out there.)
2. It won't be a blog about cats, dogs, or anything similar. It's way too expensive at my apartment complex to have animals. On top of that, I'm not home enough to spend quality time with an animal, so I'll just save that enjoyment for when I become a grown up with a yard.
3. It won't be political -- well, not often. While I like to pretend I know politics, I know a little about a lot of political discussions. I'm not an expert in any means. But there are a few topics that really ruffle my feathers, so I'll probably dedicate a few posts to them. I think I might start reading presidential biographies.
4. This won't be a food blog. I may occasionally talk about some new recipes, or even post pictures of something I make, but I'm not going to give you every detail of how something was made. Not that I like to keep all my recipes secret, it's just that I hate typing out recipes. They are quite tedious. If it's a recipe online, I'll give you the link. Otherwise, you'll just have to take my word that it was delicious. 
All of these topics may be thought provoking, or they just may be a way for you to kill time at work; nevertheless, I come to the number one rule of this blog -- don't leave mean comments.
I may post something that you may not agree with, but I'm not trying to start debate. I'm just putting my thoughts out there for all the world to read. If you disagree, just write "disagree" or something along those lines. Please do not go off on a tangent on my blog. This is MY opinion, and I'm entitled to it. If you have an opinion that you want to go off about, then start your own blog. Write a Facebook note. Twitter about it. Send an owl with the message to all your friends. Please do not get on here with the sole intent of "ripping me a new one." Like I said, I'm not an expert. I'm just a person who believes in the First Amendment, and I plan to exercise that right.
With that being said... Welcome to the blog!