Jordan Schuman
 Multimedia Journalist
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A Letter to Me... 6 Months Ago

9/2/2015

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Dear Jordan,

Today is March 2, 2015, and today you head to your first day of work! You work at a real television station, you have a real job, you are a real reporter. Congratulations! You survived "the move" and here you are. Soon, you'll start getting real benefits and real paychecks and paying real bills which isn't the most fun but you'll live. Also, don't forget to set up an electric account or you'll come home to a dark and very humid apartment in a couple months when they realize your accidental error. Hint: this actually does happen to you. Anyway, whatever you're feeling today about work and the future, you're going to be fine. Actually, you'll be more than fine and you'll adjust fantastically. You'll make friends, you'll love your job and you'll like your free time, too. Only thing is your sink will literally always be the messiest part of your apartment and you're pretty much going to have to learn to live with that. 
Jordan, I ask that you keep in mind why you came to Florence. Not sure if it's occurred to you, but packing up to move to a place where you don't know anyone just for a job is kind of a big sacrifice to make. Most people do not do it. I know to you it's just the logical next step in life, and the only thing that makes sense in your journey. But remember, it's not always easy to be away from home and you might not love every day you live. You're here to learn something every single day, go to sleep in some way a better reporter than you were when you woke up, and soak in every experience you're met with. Some days, going to work will just feel like going to work. But most days, like 99% of the days, going to work is freaking fun. You have it way better than most entry level reporters do. And the good news is most of the time life is very easy, and you like it a lot. Promise. 

The rumors are true, you will drink a lot of wine and you'll watch a lot of TV. But you won't be able to buy alcohol in your county on Sundays so be sure to plan ahead. You'll grow to consider Ina Garten and Rachael Ray close friends. They'll teach you things too! You'll watch a lot of Say Yes to the Dress and it's still very funny to you that a bride will say she's "never felt more beautiful" in potentially the ugliest dress you've ever seen. No one has to know that. Our secret. 

At work and at play, these six months might actually make you the most positive you've been... ever. You won't tolerate negativity around you, you will send out good vibes and trust the universe to do the rest. I guess this is when you've reached the point of allowing in only thoughts and people that make you strong and happy. Mazel tov on that front. 

Anyway, back to work. Take a spare makeup bag and put deodorant, cough drops, tissues, band-aids, all sorts of medicines, chapstick, sunscreen, etc. in it (full list available by request). Put this bag in your trunk. Might seem excessive but you'll never be in a situation where you're unprepared. You'll get called to breaking news. Your plans will change. You'll feel better just knowing you have these things on hand. You'll use them to feel pretty when it's a literal 105 degrees and you're going live. Also, get a raincoat. Lol. Like, but actually get a raincoat. Hint: you'll live here three whole months before you buy one. 


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On Roanoke 

8/27/2015

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PicturePhoto: AP
I'm not quite sure what to say. 

I take pride in using my blog posts as a place to be vulnerable, honest and truthful with you. And being honest about that fact is the only way I know how to begin. It’s possible I have nothing beautiful, poignant or wise to share. I’m not sure I even have the right to say anything while others at this exact moment are living such unspeakably dark realities. But I write and share my thoughts with you on this blog, and I have the nagging feeling that’s what I must try to do today. 

I woke up about an hour before my alarm Wednesday, and rolled over to see what time it was. For some reason, I decided not to grab the sleep mask I keep in my night table drawer, put it on to block the sun and roll back over to keep sleeping. Instead, I reached down to where my work phone was charging, and I scrolled down on the notifications that accumulated while I slept. I do this every day. On Wednesday, a sickened, gaping, pitch-black hole developed in my stomach and in my heart. Head still to the pillow, phone close to my face, I began to cry. 

I posted to Facebook calling this the "worst news to wake up to." I turned on CNN. I call my mom every day at some point, usually around 11 a.m. But once my mom saw I had posted on Facebook and was awake, she called me at 10:05. "Hey," I said, my voice as broken as I was beginning to feel. "I just needed to hear your voice," she said.  


The murder of Alison Parker and Adam Ward on live television was a tragedy for everyone. It was an unbearable tragedy for their families, an extreme tragedy for the station, and yet another gun-related tragedy for the nation. But it was a particular type of tragedy for moms and dads of multimedia journalists, who so acutely understand the perils of the public profession their children have chosen. I want to devote the least amount of text possible to the gunman in this blog post, but I have to say at this time in the morning, we weren't yet sure who he was. 

I don't mean to diminish the severe pain the WDBJ7 newsroom is feeling, but I want to be honest about one reaction I had. "It could've been my market, it could've been my newsroom, it could've been my live shot," I said. I was crying, using a sort of emotionally-charged voice I can't recall the last time I used to make sound. My mom told me all of these thoughts went through her mind as well. We took pauses of inhales and sobs. We didn't say too much. I told her I would call her later, and with the rest of the country, I continued to watch details unfold in real-time on Tweetdeck and cable news. 


As I watched, a few things occurred to me. Firstly, the tremendous grace, strength and beauty with which the WDBJ7 news team carried on, and carried each other, throughout the day. If I said one thing most yesterday, it's that I don't know how they did it. I just don't. A lot of the ache I felt was for them. I cannot underscore that enough. I ached for Alison Parker's boyfriend and Adam Ward's fiancée, both employees at the station. I ached for the General Manager who with such solidity put a team on his back, let his humanity shine through, and simply, managed. I ached, so deeply, for their families, now eulogizing two talented, young people they so tremendously loved in a way no one should have to, and far too soon. It occurred to me how much trust we place in the public every day when we head out into our communities to bring you stories that night. We stand on street corners, we approach people outside grocery stores and in large crowds, we work in our cars in parking lots at night. And it wasn't even one of these potentially dangerous situations that led to the horror we watched play out yesterday. It felt unfair, I felt angry, I felt devastated and helpless. And I knew this stream of emotions was happening to journalists all across America, too.


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The Gifts We Give Ourselves

8/18/2015

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PictureThis bow was definitely a gift I gave to myself on my very 1st birthday.
It's no secret to most anyone who knows me just how much I love my birthday. My birthday, yes, but also all birthdays of the people who matter in my life. At the risk of sounding like this blog post is sponsored by Hallmark, allow me to explain. Birthdays give us opportunities to be celebrated while also allowing us to celebrate all the love that exists around us. To quote Kid President, "Every breath is a big deal." And it seems it's only on our birthdays that we act like it.

Though another great part about birthdays is presents, the truth of the matter is they are the least important part once you reach a certain age. Instead of surprise flower deliveries and gift cards, it really is about one day a year when it's really easy to take inventory of the progress you've made, the people who helped you get there, and the gifts you've been given all year long.

Since turning 21, I graduated from college, got a job, navigated a transition into a new state where I knew no one, began to live alone, became more financially independent, and faced the ups and downs of daily life that came with it. And although I simply adore my birthday, I wouldn't have made it that far had I not gifted myself every now and again along the way. Here's some of the things I got:

The gift of... a tribe:
Because being away from family is hands down the hardest part about not living near home, I call my parents once a day. They are two of the prominent members of what my mom affectionately calls "Team Jordan." I am blessed that Team Jordan is comprised of strong, supportive, encouraging and overall wonderful people, including a healthy amount of women. I know they will cheer when I am close to the finish line, and allow me to cling to them when it seems too far away. My tribe spans the country, and for that I'm grateful. In other terms, those in your tribe are your people. They get you, they know you, and most of all, they want you to make it.

The gift of...
clearing out your news feed:
Social media has its place, and I use it as a reporter probably more than most people do. But parts of it, like the Facebook news feed, can be dark places where loneliness manifests. If, for whatever reasons, you can't part ways with someone entirely on Facebook or Twitter, give yourself the gift of unfollowing the people you don't want to see updates from, hiding posts that you find annoying, muting Twitter accounts entirely, and simply making your news feeds only the most positive and comfortable places for you. You're not going to like everyone and you definitely won't like what everyone posts on social media. They have that right, and you have the right to mute them. You must justify it to no one.

The gift of... coffee and wine as you please:
Everything in moderation including moderation, as they say, but coffee and wine are two of the finer and more important things in life. Have them as you desire and as you deem necessary.

The gift of... indulging in being alone:
Living alone and working odd hours in a bureau office where some days I see a maximum of three people can be as isolating as it sounds. Of course making the best use of your free time as possible helps, but actually finding the enjoyment in being alone doesn't hurt either. For me, it's lighting candles, reading a ridiculous amount about the television industry, watching Food Network and Real Housewives (sue me), going to the pool, listening to This American Life, and on Sundays when I can, watching CBS Sunday Morning followed by Reliable Sources on CNN. Create the rituals. Love the rituals.

The gift of... owning your narrative:
Whenever I interview someone who has lost someone tragically, I tell them the same thing if they seem hesitant to go on camera with me: let investigators and law enforcement uncover the facts, let the court hearings display them. But talk to me and take back your narrative. Tell me something you want everyone to know about the person you lost because only you have the unique ability to do it. I feel as a reporter, it's a gift given to me to allow them to own their narrative -- to tell their story their own way. In far less extreme ways, we need to give this gift to ourselves daily. Don't let people who add little to your life contribute so greatly to your thoughts, feelings and narrative. It is, after all, yours.



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Sitting at the Table 

7/18/2015

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One of my favorite quotes that relates to what I do comes from an author named Andrew Boyd. It reads, "You must grow strong enough to love the world, yet empty enough to sit down at the table with its worst horrors."

On July 18th, 2015 at the South Carolina State House, I sat down at the table with its worst horrors. 

I was covering a Ku Klux Klan rally in Columbia, held about a week after the highly-debated Confederate flag was lowered from State House grounds. The flag was the topic of a national conversation for weeks after nine people were killed at a bible study in an AME church in Charleston, and the accused shooter was seen in photographs using the Confederate flag as a symbol of white supremacy. 

I'd covered
two rallies before this one, but they didn't feel like this. There were thousands of people at this one. There were passionate, angry, emotionally charged people with opinions they were sharing loudly at this one. There were probably a hundred law enforcement agents at this one. There was a lot of media at this one. The Black Panther Party and the KKK were at this one. This one wasn't just about a flag. 

I know my job is cool in that it gives me a front row seat to history. Every day, I learn something new about someone new, about the world we all share and live in together. That world is always changing, and we get to know so much about that as reporters. Even better, we get to share it with you. It is such a full way to experience life. But just like the quote says, your eyes are opened to ALL that humanity is and can be, not just the parts that are easy to love. 

The media was placed in a barricaded section between the steps the KKK stood on and the barricades that kept the crowds of protestors away. We watched people tear apart flags, shout hateful, vicious, foul things at one another. Fights broke out in the crowds among people who don't even know each other, but know they aren't alike, and know that they are angry. 

You don't want to believe you are part of any sort of humanity with the capacity for such vileness and detestation. But if you're me at this rally, you have a deadline to meet. 


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All About Eve

4/26/2015

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When I was 17, I played Eve (yes, from the Bible) in a show at summer camp. It was a role I grew so attached to that, in a way, I still feel I carry her with me, though it was the last experience with performing that I had (a plan to return to the theatre is another blog post for another day). I grew so attached to her not just because of the formative nature of that summer and those life experiences, but the way I truly identified with the girl. She was so fervently curious. She asked so many questions. And some of them often got her into trouble. Minor trouble. Like eating the forbidden fruit and making humans mortal trouble. Oh well. 

After eating the fruit and seeing the pain it caused and the simultaneous elation from being so knowledgeable, she asks why God put questions in her, almost feeling like she fell into a trap after she was made to be curious but told it was in her best interest not to be. Depending on the version of the show that you see, the male or female God responds, "why did you disobey me?" And she replies furiously, thoroughly pissed off that he/she responded with a question, "that's not an answer." 

But she's my type of curious: sometimes succumbing to temptation and exploring things I need not always explore. I wasn't always this way. At a younger age, I took things at face value and was shy around strangers. If my parents pulled the car up to a restaurant and asked me to find out the wait inside on my own, I froze. But I grew into a curious young woman with an intense need to understand, and an awareness that strangers are not always scary. Linda Ellerbee taught me the moment you speak to a stranger is the moment they stop being one.
 
Albert Einstein said, "I have no talents, I am only passionately curious." And to me, that's enough to take you everywhere. Professionally, I'm sure it has. I chose journalism for the satisfaction from the public service of storytelling, but also, selfishly, the curiosity engine it fuels. You can know so much as a journalist. It's a big, big world with crazy, interesting people and if you aren't constantly asking questions of it, how will you adequately explore? 

In my summer interning at CBS News, I sat in weekly pitch meetings and brought about four or five stories each week to pitch for that week's CBS This Morning: Saturday broadcast. Knowing I always had this meeting to prepare for, I was in a constant state of keeping my eyes peeled. The habit of always needing to produce interesting content trained me to look everywhere for a story. To trust there is usually something beyond the way things appear to be. To look at everything we encounter and ask, "What's the story there?" If you look long enough, there usually is something. It remains the best thing I learned there. An example: I was in our basement with my mom packing some things up before I moved to South Carolina, and I noticed her collection of cookbooks on a shelf. In today's age with chatrooms, message boards and every recipe you could ever hope to find accessible on Google or Pinterest, who needs cookbooks? This explains why hers were on a shelf in the basement. But there was a time that's how people learned to cook. And I suggested CBS Sunday Morning could do a wonderful story on the obsoletism of the cookbook and how this culinary tradition had died. It's not hard-hitting journalism, but it's interesting. It would be an answer to a question, which is what all great stories are. 

That questioning is what's made me, and so many others, life-long lovers of learning. In an interview with Diane Sawyer, when asked what 'forever' is, Julie Andrews responded, "The joy of curiosity... thank God for that." 

But I'm sure you've heard that curiosity killed the cat, and that you know some things are definitely better left unexplored, uninvestigated, and unexamined. This is a fact a journalist unequivocally and undeniably sucks at accepting. I don't ask a distracting amount of questions, and I can carry on a dinner conversation, but right now I want to know what the cat did and how it got killed. And nothing really, truly rattles me to my core more than a lack of answers and not being able to figure something out. In fact, in psychology the need to know and understand was once touted as so crucial, Abraham Maslow categorized it as a basic human need, less important than self-worth and self-esteem, but more important than aesthetic needs such as having cute clothes and a well-decorated apartment. Luckily, I have those too. 

I think the truth lies healthily in between those extremes. Curiosity is not one-size-fits-all. In interviewing, it's as important to ask the right questions as it is to leave the wrong ones unsaid. And maybe more important than the need to question is the ability to understand when things do
not warrant your exploration. It's a lesson that as I type, I feel like I'm teaching to a child, but also one I just really remembered learning myself. That sometimes you can just pay attention and admire from afar. That though the shine of a Swarovski crystal is tempting, it might break if you explore it too roughly. That the phrase 'beating a dead horse' exists for a reason. That in these moments when your heart is tempted to keep asking but your brain knows better, you can choose not to play with fire. 

And a thought that is simultaneously troubling and comforting to a person who makes a career of finding things out: you must not always need to know.

You heard it here first,

Jordan 

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An Ongoing Conversation with the Broadcast Gods

4/16/2015

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I can't pinpoint exactly when I started believing in the Broadcast Gods, but now that I'm a working reporter who turns nothing into something at least once a day with obstacles and road bumps along the way, I know they're real.

I know they're real, and I know they're on vacation this week. Well, they must be. That is the only satisfactory explanation for the obstacles and road bumps of this particular week. 

If you're not in the field of journalism, you might be dubious of their existence. But here's what I'll tell you - they are real and they control nearly everything around us. If they stop acting in your favor, it's probably because you haven't been giving them enough credit. 

Here are some examples:
-Yesterday, it was pouring rain all day. Weather doesn't stop you from needing to shoot footage outside and make television out of it. Those aren't the Weather Gods; they're the Broadcast ones. 
-Once I was out on a story with a reporter about a local fire station, and who pulls up but someone she did a story on a few years back whose house caught fire when the firefighters failed to respond. That's the Broadcast Gods. 
-If the first time you get recognized is in the grocery store when you're not wearing makeup or a bra, it's the Broadcast Gods. They can be. The worst. I'm sure they'll do this to you and you will have to live to write it in your memoir. (This hasn't happened to me, I've just thought about it and prayed to them that they don't make it happen. So far, so good.) 

While we're on the topic of the memoir, I've considered renaming my future one, "An Ongoing Conversation with the Broadcast Gods" instead of the name I actually have in mind for it. The good news there is it's much easier to rename a future memoir that doesn't exist than it is to rename one that's already been published and on the shelves. 

I can't go through every single example of how the Broadcast Gods have controlled many aspects of my day because we'd be here for a while, but I'll recap the past two days, and maybe you'll become a believer too. 

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Going to Carolina in My Mind

3/14/2015

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The story of my move to South Carolina begins on a night in October. We're in my bed in my apartment at the University of Miami. I'm wondering, as I find myself doing quite often, if size matters. Like most people, I had an ideal size in mind. Curb your enthusiasm, at this point I don't believe this story will have the ending you're hoping for.

I had gotten home from my class that ended at 9:05 p.m. on this night in October to find myself completely overwhelmed by the sheer length of the to-do list that separated me and a college degree. I also had a paralyzing headache and all I could do was lay in bed and cry from the pain, and think of all the work I could have and should have been doing that night, but couldn't because of said headache. Yes, I took ibuprofen. Mom. 

At this point in October, like most broadcast journalism college students, I was naive enough to believe the designated market area you land your first job in was the most revealing reflection of your talent, intelligence and promise in this industry. I was naive enough to believe that not only did size matter, but it said a whole lot about you, too.

If you don't know, in television a designated market area (DMA) is a geographic area that receives the same television stations. For example, the DMA I now work in contains roughly eight counties with about 286,000 TV homes in it, and we cover everything that happens in those eight counties. Everyone in those eight counties has the same local news stations to choose from. Based on the population density of these areas and other factors, DMAs are assigned a number rank. For your reference, the top five largest DMAs are New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, Philadelphia and Dallas-Fort Worth. The list goes down to number 210. 

For the better part of my last semester, I was hellbent on getting a job, arbitrarily, in the top 100 markets. I honestly have not one good reason to give you for this decision. Having now landed a great job out of school in market 102, clearly just outside of the once-holy-grail-goal I made for myself, I've learned the most important things in your first job cannot be quantified at all. If you're lucky as I've been, you'll land one where people are nice to you, you have a decent quality of life, your management is willing to train you, and your co-workers are excited about all that you have to contribute. I know for a fact bigger market size does not equate to more happiness at any stage in this career, and there are many factors to consider when observing from the outside. By that I mean you can't look at someone who's 30 and say you thought they would've been in a bigger market by then. 

I used to fear 20 years from now a former classmate might google me just to find I now manage a boutique PR or social media agency or work as an event planner, or maybe even own a floral shop, and have - quote - left the industry - end quote. It's always said just like that, by the way, "left the industry" and I feared they'd think I failed at this whole tv news thing, and I wasn't really good enough to make it all the way, was I? 

Maybe it's maturity or maybe it's a new level of I-don't-give-a-damnness, but I don't give a damn. I'd like to stay in this industry and get married and have children (2 or 3) and dogs (2) while doing it (adopting the dogs, birthing the kids), but the husband and kids are non-negotiables for me, and if I decide to "leave the industry" or stay in a smaller market to make it happen, there's the quality of life thing I was just talking about. It's real and it matters more than a market size or status in the industry ever could, and it's the reason you just can't make judgments about where someone is at on a list of DMAs.

Side note on jobs outside the industry: I came home from a meeting with a professor once so discouraged I created a list of alternative careers for myself. They are mostly ridiculous, and I plan to list them in the index of the memoir I write someday. 

Anyway, I did finish the insurmountable to-do list by graduation day and a literal TEN days after my headache fueled meltdown, I had a completed reel to send to news directors across the country. 
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Getting to Know You... Getting to Know All About You

2/13/2015

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About a month ago, the New York Times published this essay in which the author re-enacted this study which claimed these 36 questions could make the two participants fall in love. It argues the key to getting to know someone (and falling in love) is the exact and scientific vulnerability and intimacy that this exercise forces. Though vulnerability is scary, I've learned everything worthwhile in love lies on the other side of accepting it as a part of life. You don't have security and you never know what tomorrow holds, but people who are most comfortable with vulnerability are that way because they understand how necessary it is for forming true, authentic connections. For more on this, watch this AMAZING Ted Talk here. The study then ends with four, count them, FOUR, minutes of nothing but eye contact. Sounds romantic, (no, it doesn't, it sounds awful) but I sometimes have a hard time maintaining eye contact with someone I even do know well.  

I don't know if these 36 Questions work for falling in love, but I know that technology has really gotten in the way of how we organically do it. I'd prefer sitting down, talking and exploring each other. I wish it would make a comeback. I'd even take encountering awkward moments and stumbling over not knowing how to tell all of our secrets in person over the accelerated intimacy technological connections foster. 


I'm an open book, and if you know me, you know I don't shy away from sharing most things, but I'm not going to answer Set 3, and I've marked some of the answers as 'Omitted.' If I answered them, the moments you'd find them out in real life would no longer be intimate ones. I recently met up with someone who I had known something pretty personal about via their Facebook page, and it was so personal that I resent the fact that I didn't have the chance to hear it for the very first time from him, and never will. When he did tell me, I don't think I even responded with the appropriate amount of emotion that I would have if I hadn't already known it. 

But, for the sake of this post, I decided to answer some of these questions. If nothing else, I hope you learn a little bit about me. Having read over the questions many times, I don't think it's all-inclusive, and I don't think you'll be in love by the end of the exercise. Unless there's some value in the 240 seconds of eye contact it ends with. Shudder. It skips the little details and experiences that really help you fall in love, like the moment at the movie theater you both reach into the popcorn bag at the same time, the moment in the car you absolutely cannot settle on a radio station to listen to,  the time you learn about the most painful goodbye they ever said, and the day you realize there are fireworks even in the moment you are watching SNL together in sweats. 
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So for Valentine's Day, a day for celebrations of friendship, affection and love, and gestures to let people know we care, I share with you my answers to the first two sets of this study. If you are falling in love at any point, please stop. I'm not in the position to enter into a relationship right now. (I'm sure you're great, though. Really, I am.) 

Set I:
1. Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?

Dead: Walter Cronkite
Alive: Monica Lewinsky

2. Would you like to be famous? In what way?

I've long said I'd like to be famous enough to require a baseball cap and concealing sunglasses to get my morning coffee so as to not be recognized. I've often said this situation takes place in San Francisco (it's a place I can see making home and raising babies.) I've also said since being an intern who re-made a cup of tea for an executive, that I'd never be too busy or too famous to make my own beverage. I'd rather forgo the beverage altogether. I'd also like to be famous enough to be stopped for selfies. I hear they're replacing autographs. 

3. Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say? Why?

Rarely. If it's a professional phone call, I like to have an idea of what I'll say going into it. If it's a personal phone call, I like to spend the next few minutes freaking out over the possibility we'll have nothing to talk about. 

4. What would constitute a “perfect” day for you?
Not particular on what the mid-day entails (a picnic, a family birthday party, a sporting event?). Prefer waking up with someone I love, making breakfast (I make a great omelette, can be easily convinced to expand my recipe book for a special man) and drinking coffee. Hope the day ends with wine and Italian food, a movie musical (favorites include The Pajama Game, Guys and Dolls and My Fair Lady), sensible amounts of cuddling, and sleep. 

5. When did you last sing to yourself? To someone else? 

Often, in the car, to whoever is with me. Surprisingly, rarely in the shower. 

6. If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?

I don't know if I'd want either. I was going to say mind, because with proper skincare and plastic surgery you can probably always look younger, but I don't know if I'd want the mind of a 30-year-old without the experience that informs the mind I'll have at 90. Those 60 years of memories and experiences are valuable. 

7. Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?
No! 

8. Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common.

That we're single currently. (1) And will someday hopefully find each other. (2) And that we will like each other once we do. (3)

9. For what in your life do you feel most grateful?

My family. I happen to have the most kick-ass, loving, smart and funny people to call mine. I feel lucky for them every day. 

10. If you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be?
I wouldn't. That might read as a cop-out but my parents got divorced when I was young, did everything in their power to stay close friends, and it shaped me into the compassionate person I am today who is capable of great love and great friendship (and great friendship even with those I have once greatly loved.) The older I get, the more I appreciate and respect what they did so our family remained a unit. I don't take it for granted. 

11. Take four minutes and tell your partner your life story in as much detail as possible.

Omitting. 

12. If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?
Probably the ability to play a musical instrument. At different times in life I dabbled with flute and piano and didn't stick with either. If I could go back, I'd choose the saxophone. It's the sexiest instrument there is. 

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Hitting A Home Run

2/2/2015

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I've never been good with sports. 

I'm not great with the terminology... the courts, the fields, the points, the runs. The longer I sit here writing this I actually feel the embarrassment setting in. Actually, I'm a warrior on a golf course (I thank genetics for that one.)

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That form.
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And I do have my moments. Last night at the Super Bowl, there was a guy on the field at one point who played for the Chicago Bears, and after some time staring at the logo, I proudly announced that was his team. It took me longer than it should have to figure that out, but I did! I'm always proud when I can pair a logo with a team, or a team with the town they play for. I'm being serious. But I don't know positions. And I mostly don't know names. Gah. For more on last night at the Super Bowl, view my tweets below: 
I do know that my junior year, the Miami Hurricanes running back was Duke Johnson. I know this because for weeks on end during NewsBreak, the 90-second news update show I anchored once a week, I'd say, "Running Back Duke Johnson...." but it wasn't until I was editing one day that I realized I didn't know what a running back did, I had just relied on the muscle memory of reading it off the prompter each week. (I know that now, by the way. The 26-78-45 HUT guy hands the ball to someone (maybe the QB??) who then gives it to the running back. I think.) 

So believe me when I say no one was more surprised than I was that in my last semester at the University of Miami, I covered a story that actually required me going to the football stadium and conducting an interview with someone who had an office in the athletic center. To be fair, it was a story about transportation to and from the sporting event, but it was the most I'd ever ventured into the Wide World of Sports. ( <-- that right there was funny because there was an ABC show by the same name.) 

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Here's the Thing... - New Year's Resolutions

1/3/2015

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Hi friends,

This blog comes to you from 2015! We made it! Also, here's all the things Back to the Future swore we'd have by now. 

2014 was a big year for me that saw an internship in the NBC News bureau in Miami, an internship in New York City with CBS News, my graduation from the University of Miami and a completed broadcasting reel. If you want to get caught up on the adventure that was, check out my last blog post. And if you want to be ahead of the curve on all of the adventures still to come this year, (they'll be good, I promise!) follow me on instagram now! 

Moving on, we did make it to 2015, and I hope you rang it in with some of the people who matter most to you. If you didn't, I hope you're able to find a few minutes sometime soon to call those who do, and let them know you miss them. Or don't, like, honestly this is your life and I'm not here to tell you how to live it, I'm just grateful you read my blogs. 

"Here's the Thing..." is a new series on my website in which I let you know my deal on a various topic. You know when something comes up in conversation, and then comes your turn to weigh in and you go, "well, here's the thing..." followed by whatever you have to say. Maybe it's a little vent-y or soap box-y, but I have a degree in Broadcast Journalism and I uphold your First Amendment right to Freedom of Speech as much as the next girl. 

I'm sorry if your intelligence was insulted by that description. I'm certain you would've caught on sans explanation but I felt more comfortable covering all bases. If you'd like to reclaim your power, feel free to always scroll all the way down to any page on my website and fill out that comment card if you have a suggestion for a "Here's the Thing..." post! I'd love it if you did that. On that note, feel free to use that comment card to talk with me whenever you'd like!

And now, the reason you decided to read this post, here's the thing about New Year's resolutions. 

First of all, it seems New Year's resolutions are the butt of a joke these days. If you're at a New Year's party or having a conversation that takes place in the first few weeks of January, it's common you'll be asked about your resolutions: if you made any, what they were, and, this is the joke part, how long you think it'll be until you break it. In fact, a 2007 study on a group of about 3000 people found 88% of them failed to keep resolutions made at the beginning of the year. 

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