Transience and Loss of the Early Days

Thumb slides over smooth medal surrounded by rough edges, hits pedal of plastic. Sllliiittthh, a flame. Ssssss, the paper ignites, tobacco is caught, smoke puffs.
I don't like the taste, it scorches my taste buds, severs the sensation of flavor, but I do it, though I know the potentially tragic consequences.
I hide out from regular shit on these breaks, these occasions where the cloud of smoke replaces the proverbial cloud in my mind, that little black rain cloud that's followed me circa the era I wanted to watch Winnie the Pooh.
I think back to then, sipping a diet coke, like my mom in her '96 black Dodge Intrepid, cig hanging out the window, Macarena or Jelly Head on the radio. My dad was always at work, I barely knew him then.
I'm still young, but I'm old enough to know how messed up the world is and how little I actually know. And I know that I already have a wealth of knowledge more than some people will ever gain in their lives, which frightens and saddens me more than anyone could understand. Ramble on, babylon... 
I used to say I'd never touch a cigarette, save alleviating a mosquito bite's itch on my leg when the nail cross didn't work. I used to memorize bible verses for paper play money at youth group. I used to be a good girl, g.p.a. built way above William Penn's hat, but after the skyscrapers anyway.
Addiction is a funny thing, something I don't understand. It's a personality I don't think I possess; I'd say my apathy and impulse are high, and I do as I please as long as I'm not negatively impacting anyone else.
At risk of sounding mellow dramatic, my Gen-Y, self-absorbed, prophetic train of thought wants to leave with this:
If anyone ever asks my advice on anything, I say, "follow your heart." I don't often pray to God, I vibe with the universe. When I think it, I wanna run it by someone, just to see if they agree.
If I didn't, it could never mean anything to anyone.

Entertain Us

"It's fun to lose and to pretend

She's over bored and self assured

Oh no, I know a dirty word"

I'm driving home the long way to puff on a stoge, the $5.16 Maverick menthol 100 bitters my mouth, accompanied by an already miserable demeanor. I turn up the radio, Cobain's voice comes like from the grave, a warning against the way he went, or at least that's the message I get.

"Hello, hello, hello, how low?

Hello, hello, hello, how low?

Hello, hello, hello, how low?

Hello, hello, hello?"

I start to sing, and really belt out each word, not screaming, but in a way that volumes fill my lungs and reverberate off the strained chords in my throat, the cardboard vocal box almost spent from taking so much shit. This can only happen, this strong wind of melodic breath backed with more feeling than an opera singer sustains, when I am there. That place where there is no money in my bank account, no gas in my car, and no pay check in sight. 

"I'm worse at what I do best

And for this gift I feel blessed

Our little group has always been

And always will until the end"

I saw my brother's play at my former high school earlier in the night, and memories of my own sequin studded seemingly professional stage escapades empty into my mind. Teachers chatted; I felt the need to explain my plan of action, or lack there of, and as usual, it came out as defensive and pompous at the same time. I'd delve into the dialogue, yet I cringe at the thought of my pierced punk-ass hipster roadie influenced (and maybe under the influence,) appearance conversing with people who impacted me so much. I feel I'm failing them, but I don't think I'm failing me.

"And I forget just why I taste

Oh yeah, I guess it makes me smile

I found it hard, it's hard to find

Oh well, whatever, never mind"

The guitar wails, vibrating through my car stereo speakers and into my veins, tendons, ligaments. I'm one with the strums, elongated on the amp "Teen Spirit" was recorded on. The weather warming up, and I can drive with my windows partially open, enough to smell something other than cold. I'm sucked back to senior year, and the wild feeling of nervousness and abandonment that sent me balls to the wall; drinking, smoking, staying up too late--things that are normal to me now. And I knew where I was going then; to college. Four years later, the feelings mirror my 18-year-old mind's jaded thoughts, and talking about it is pointless. Because there is no talking about it. It's only a sense. Or an interpretation. Or a feeling. Or a song. Or "It Smells Like Teen Spirit."  

An update and a promise, no fingers crossed

My classmates critiqued an essay about my sorry ass life, and they all seemed to really like it, enough for one peer to request my blog address.Shocked and surprised, I reluctantly typed the address into a draft and did not look as I pressed "send."I warned him; I never update it, it looks a hot mess. My roommate said such when I posted my last blog over winter break. But now, I remember the address is on my professional Twitter. 
Who saw my former layout and has judged my sloppy web design?So I simplified. But I valued some of the info I had, so I'm posting it here:

"Time is just a concept made up by man, and as long as the world spins on, man bides his 'time' with follies and excuses and love. Thus is life, looking for things to fill the time, to serve a purpose. People search for why it is that we are here, and the meaning is personal and individual. The meaning is to find meaning and mean it. There are no absolutes to life, no truths to any of it. We take on what is true to us, and that is how we make it through. Life, as we know it, is as we know it."

And...

"Like the Greek goddess,I am gifted with the ability to foresee tragedy. I own perspective. I see things and feel things that others cannot understand. So much so, that like the great goddess, I am cursed to a life of hesitation, disbelief and reluctance. Cursed for simply denying seduction. So I write on anyway, to share what others won't hear or comprehend. Writing until someone breaks the curse."

With that stated, I'm going to write more (well, I write a LOT, but I'll post it here, less formally than my articles for The Slate and The Burg.)
So read, please. This isn't my journal, it's my stage for an audience; you. 

Confessions of a Neighborless Nanny

It has taken me this long to realize that social media cannot withstand the capacity of explanation I must convey in order validify my point.
(1.) Including spaces, that was exactly the length of a tweet, and 2.) I could not establish the validity of the word "validify," it remains questionable.)
Anything less than this blog would appear as "bitching" to my friends and followers in the twitterverse and beyond, so I've decided to go Awkward's Jenna, and type my witty and inconsequential journaling into a (5s, gold, thank yew,) iPhone note and share it on my blog, end run-on sentence.
With that being said, my life has been quite pathetic in recent weeks.
I work too much, have nothing to show for it, drink too much and don't sleep enough. I can't cope, I'm stuck.
On the upside, I graduate in May with a degree from an accredited program in Communication/Journalism, Print emphasis, English minor.
What I will do with it? Eh, I'll cross that path when school resumes again.
Which is in less than 2 weeks, by the way.
In any regard, I am the definition of a broke college student. I will graduate so in debt that I cannot begin to calculate for emotional reasons.
I have not looked into careers because I am too busy working part-time jobs to afford the electric, gas, and internet/cable bills at my house in Shippensburg, along with gas and insurance for my car, etc. I'm actually writing this this at one of my jobs, January brings empty wallets and fewer customers.
While at school, I work as a manager at the Phoneathon, a cashier at the bookstore, and during Friday late nights I make burritos for drunken slops on the corner of the rowdiest party street in town.
At home, I am a pretzel princess at Auntie Anne's, where I've slaved away the past five years for meager pay and insufficient treatment or reward.
I also babysit and house/dog sit for the entitled military-family neighbors across the street, that is, until recently.
While I'm at school, a best friend of mine has assumed the position, but I still got priority for dog sitting when I came home for holidays. Apparently my services were less-than satisfactory the last time I sat, so my BFF has been offered my job.
To put it simply and objectively, I was fired.
I have never been fired from a job (unless you count the time Chick-Fil-A closed and the entire crew I worked with was laid-off.)
I take pride in my work ethic. I don't half-ass things. I'm a kind and caring person. My termination from my post leads me to believe I am sub-par, and my ego is bruised.
Also, I NEED THE MONEY.
Now, I'd feel less offended if my "boss" had informed me that she would not need my services anymore. However, she told my bestie that "things with Cassie (ugh, please don't call me that,) didn't work out," and asked my pal if she'd be interested in the job.
As my neighbor, I'd appreciate more than the rumor mill to inform me of my shortcomings in the dog-watching world. Also, I'd really like to know what I did wrong.
What I do admit: the damn dog peed in the basement on New Year's Eve, something I attributed not to my lack of care, but to fear of fireworks.
My best friend also informed me of talk about an injury to the pup's leg which my neighbor/ex-boss presumably credits me.
Like, what?
I have always needed to explain myself. I'm one who craves the proper reasoning behind actions, and the opportunity to express my reasoning. My not-so-neighbor-like neighbor has denied me my right. I am torn.
The supposedly Christian family treats others with distance and judgement, not kindness and understanding. Let me specify, the matriarch does; father, who I know less, is in school or away with work or occupied with tasks. Even still, I've chatted with the relaxed and down to earth Marine while he's in town. Who could blame the man for running from his high-maintenance wife?
I mean, she pays "baby-sitters" to do homework with her children while she's home. She has no job. She barely cooks.
She shops and cleans; okay. However, some summer mornings I would go cook breakfast for her children and help them "study," (it's the summer, for christ's sake!) while she went to the gym. She gets her nails done. She shops at Neiman Marcus for jeans. We live in Levittown, come on now.
But here I go, passing judgement on the woman who unjustly judges me.
Let me just say that a person should love thy neighbor. I've tried, but when love is unreciprocated and only offered if one benefits from such false pretense, then what is a girl to do?
As most military families do, the uptight and unfriendly resident (and her family) of the house across the street move in June. Good riddance, and good luck to your three sons who will be raised to believe that relationships outside of structure and order are frivolous and useless.
P.s. Thanks for the opportunity to learn that being uptight and inattentive to others will result in a misery that not even shopping can solve.

Final Version: Applying Reflective Practice in Diversity Context

By Cassandra Clarhaut, Eric Cubbler, and Heather Devine
America and the rest of the world is in the midst of rough relations with North Korea. The things we see, read and hear in the media paint a picture of strict militant citizens that are sometimes mentally unstable.
We asked Jenna Scalia, a Shippensburg University Sophomore, what it was like growing up Korean in America and how the media depicts her ethnicity.
Jenna Scalia, a Sophomore at Shippensburg University,
is a Asian American adopted by white parents.
“I mention ‘Korean;’ I feel right away that I am being judged. I've never been to Korea but they look at me like I am a spy for the North,” Scalia said. "I don't speak any Korean or even have a hint of a foreign accent."
Scalia is adopted by white parents. Her birth family is from South Korea, where relations with the North have recently crumbled. According to CBC news, “North Korea on Tuesday urged all foreign companies and tourists in South Korea to evacuate, saying the two countries are on the verge of nuclear war.”
Even if it’s just a threat, simply empty words, the depiction in the media is that North Korea is making moves—dangerous and complicated moves.
According to U.K.’s The Guardian, “the North has threatened to launch a nuclear attack on the US.” Readers think, “Koreans are going to blow up the U.S.” though it is clearly specified “North.” Just because the writer worded things this way does not mean that it is the way things are.
This isn’t the media’s fault, the reader’s assumption that North Korea and Korea are synonymous words. Perhaps the constant harping on the threats considered news intensifies the perception that Asians are spies, as Scalia mentioned.
People that Scalia knows sometimes make jokes about her ethnicity. She doesn’t mind, though they can be “somewhat over-the-line.” Scalia said, "I can understand an occasional joke on my ethnicity from my good friends, but when someone I barely know says something right away is when I get upset."
It seems unbelievable that a woman of any race born in the United States, raised in a white family, be mocked. Put an Asian face on this woman, give her darker skin and smaller eyes in America, the jokes crack themselves.
Other than the jokes, Scalia also said that social networks like Facebook and Twitter are more annoying than the news.
“Like those memes and pictures. Also, the jokes that they say about Korea when it's one man [‘s leadership] and not even the country that my family is from (South Korea.)
"I even see people that I know, post things that I clearly don't know what they are talking about."
Scalia is referring to the pictorial one-liners that generalize a nation and make Asian-Americans, in this case any Korean, out to be stupid and crazy.   
The constant blast of in-your-face opinions, often from opinionated and ill-educated individuals, is typical of social networks. Many share racist comments without a thought about it. Scalia said, "You know how the social media is, everyone has a voice behind a computer screen."
It seems though that in person and particularly on campus Scalia has had less trouble with acceptance.
Though most of her friends are white, she hasn't felt a need to form alliances with other Asian-Americans. She has not attended any diversity or cultural group meetings to meet someone with the same ethnical background. 
“I haven't had a hard time fitting in at Ship at all. I've had the same friends since freshman year, I have 3 great roommates that I love like sisters and they're Caucasians,” Scalia said.
"I like my friends for their personalities, not because they look like me."
She does feel that more of the school population is white; however her classes are usually balanced with other members of the AHANA groups.
In social activities, Scalia sees more “Asians and Blacks,” but she says that most of her friends are white.
Is it then, perhaps, that because of her typical American upbringing, that Scalia is more comfortable with white people?
“I feel comfortable around everyone. No one makes me feel out of place or awkward. I can talk to someone who is Asian just as well as I can talk to someone that is white or black or even Hispanic.” She has made a comfortable home for herself here.
--We had Jenna read over this blog post and asked her if this article was accurate on dealing with her life at Shippensburg University and she replied, “I loved it, it was on point and hopefully can reach some kids to not be so judgmental on Koreans.”

Reflective Practice List: Jenna Scalia Interview

Reflective Practice List: Jenna Scalia Interview

What do we particularly like about this story?
-The applicability of the topic; it is timely.

What skill did we most use on this piece?
-Research about the current application of the topic and great quotes from interviewee are well-done.


What do we wish we’d done better?
-Planned better, procrastinated less.


How can we improve?
Area's we felt could use some alterations:
- Focus less on the fact that she is adopted and mainly the fact she is Korean.
- What is going on in North and South Korea now is not that applicable to her situation.
- Never use words that imply she is "not one of us.”
- Use applicable quotes that state Jenna’s case.

**We had Jenna read over this blog post and asked her if this article was accurate on dealing with her life at Shippensburg University and she replied, “I loved it, it was on point and hopefully can reach some kids to not be so judgmental on Koreans.”

Interview with Jenna Scalia; An Asian American's Account of the Media

By Cassandra Clarhaut, Eric Cubbler, and Heather DeVine

America, and the rest of the world, is in the midst of rough relations with North Korea. The things we see, read and hear in the media paint a picture of strict militant citizens, violent, and sometimes mentally unstable.

We asked Jenna Scalia, a Shippensburg University Sophomore, what it was like growing up Korean in America, and how the media depicts her ethnicity.

Jenna Scalia, a Sophomore at Shippensburg University,
is a Asian American adopted by white parents.

“I mention ‘Korean;’ I feel right away that I am being judged. I've never been to Korea but I they look at me like I am a spy for the North,” Scalia said. "I don't speak any Korean or even have a hint of a foreign accent."

Scalia is adopted by white parents. Her birth family is from South Korea, where relations with the North have recently crumbled. According to CBC news, “North Korea on Tuesday urged all foreign companies and tourists in South Korea to evacuate, saying the two countries are on the verge of nuclear war.”

Even if it’s just a threat, simply empty words, the depiction in the media is that North Korea is making moves—dangerous and complicated moves.

So the words are said. According to U.K.’s The Guardian, “the North has threatened to launch a nuclear attack on the US.” Readers think, “Koreans are going to blow up the U.S.” though it is clearly specified “North.”

This isn’t the media’s fault, the reader’s assumption that North Korea and Korea are synonymous words. But perhaps the constant harping on the threats considered news intensifies the perception that Asians are spies, as Scalia mentioned.

People that Scalia knows sometimes make jokes about her ethnicity. She doesn’t mind, though they can be “somewhat over-the-line.” Scalia said, "I can understand an occasional joke on my ethnicity from my good friends, but when someone I barely know says something right away, is when I get upset."

It seems unbelievable that a woman born in the United States, adopted and raised in a white family, be mocked. Put an Asian face on this woman, give her darker skin and smaller eyes, and Voilà; in America, the jokes crack themselves.

Other than the jokes, Scalia also said that social networks, like Facebook and Twitter, are “more annoying than the news.”

“Like those memes and pictures. Also, the jokes that they say about Korea when it's one man [‘s leadership] and not even the country that my family is from. (South Korea)

"I even see people that I know, post things that I clearly don't know what they are talking about."

Scalia is referring to the pictorial one-liners that generalize a nation, and make Asian-Americans, in this case any Korean, out to be stupid, crazy and the like.    

The constant blast of in-your-face opinions, often from opinionated and ill-educated individuals, is typical of social networks. Many share racist comments without a thought about it. Scalia said, "You know how the social media is, everyone has a voice behind a computer screen."

It seems though that in person, and particularly on campus, Scalia has had less trouble with acceptance.

Though most of her friends are white, she hasn't

 felt a need to form alliances with other Asian-Americans.  She has not attended any diversity or cultural group meetings to meet someone with the same ethnical background. 

“I haven't had a hard time fitting in at Ship at all. I've had the same friends since freshman year, I have 3 great roommates that I love like sisters and they're Caucasians,” Scalia said.

"I like my friends for their personalities, not because they look like me."

She does feel that more of the school population is white, however her classes are usually balanced with other members of the AHANA groups.

In social activities, Scalia sees more “Asians and Blacks,” but she says that most of her friends are white.

Is it then, perhaps, that because of her typical American upbringing, that Scalia is more comfortable with white people?

“I feel comfortable around everyone. No one makes me feel out of place or awkward. I can talk to someone who is Asian just as well as I can talk to someone that is white or black or even Hispanic.”