Happiness is a Warm Gun

Finally! Interweb at home ... it took a week, but here it is. After a bit of debugging, it's eveng. But on the upside, I don't have to wake up at 7:30 in the morning ever again, if I so choose. Amen. Anyhow, it rained here today and Washington Post intern training has been slow-going ...

I discovered a story on the perplexity of this fine neighborhood's name. It's Glover Park, and I mumbled everytime I said it, because I wasn't sure if it was Glow-ver Park or Gluh-ver Park. Then I found this story, which ends with the grandaughter of the gent the place is named for, and as it turns out, it's Gluh-ver Park ... but the theme seems to be that no one really seems to know how it's said ... so I'm cool with my ignorance. So while enlightened a bit, I'm still ignorant and proud.

The photos are by Mark Gong, the photo intern. He's pretty amazing and has been snapping photos from the moment we all sat down on the first day. I'm quite fond of his photos ... it reminds me of being at home and having Kris and Greg and Alyssa around. It's quite cozy. I can't explain it, but I'm tired of crying at night and feeling lonely on the bus. I didn't feel that way in NYC or Chicago or Denver. This city is just sad, it's a sad, sad city. Remind me to never go to Philedelphia, it might kill me. It's strange to actually say to people, though, that I have no intentions of staying here. That I can't work in a newsroom where copyeditors are at the whim of notebook tote-ers. So I've made decisions, and maybe they're silly and foolish and maybe I'm tossing away the world's greatest chance to start at one of the world's greatest papers ... but it isn't what I thought it was. Yes, there's time for my opinion to change. But will it? I don't think so.

So I'm moving to Chicago. I'll dangle my feet in the editing pool at a magazine or book publishing house or perhaps a library (because I LOVE library work!). I'll save money, take the GRE, and apply to local grad programs. Then? Then I'll be studying Jewish studies all the damn time, and how can you go wrong with that? I can't. Not when the fervor and passion is so intense.

It was strange to realize how much time we have. How much time there is to stop and start. I'm just glad I realized it now.