Silence is Not Golden.


2:45 p.m.   "Obama Leads the Polls"
It's the day before the election. The campain has taken over the airwaves with advertisements and announcements. Who will be the next President of the United States. The polls looks good for Obama. I'm registered, but I don't think my vote will really turn the tide one way or the other. Still, I will vote. It'll be my first time - ever. A true to life "virgin voter" who has saved myself for Obama.

It took me awhile to get interested in this election. For some reason I felt like an outsider, which is odd since I'm an artist - a painter. History casts the artists, writers, and poets in the role of politics. Art and literature open the mind. They have the unique ability to raise questions that, if spoken plainly by a regular person, would have resulted in horrible punishment. Yet, we had the Romantic poets fighting for liberty; we had the modernists bringing the middle class to new intellectual heights. Art opens the mind to creative solutions that science and politics can't always accomplish.

It's difficult to believe that just over a hundred years ago there was still slavery in the United States. People like Frederick Douglas, Abraham Lincoln, and Martin Luther King have paved the way to equality and awareness. Honestly, sometimes I don't see what all the fuss is about. I know that we had some really bad things happen in the past, but that's the past, right?

Perhaps it's just my generation. We're a motley mix of races, creeds, and colors. It's to the point that we all seem to have something about us that someone else can hate or discriminate against. My generation doesn't really get that or at least I don't get that. Discrimination is the product of a small mind. Then again, I would wager that most people who do discriminate don't realize what they are doing. I'm sure they have rationalized some other reason for their opinion that makes them feel warm and fuzzy inside.

[ok, these thoughts are a bit scattered. I must revise them a bit... more to come...]


7:48 p.m.   Josh's Message
A text message pings my phone. Josh's name fills the screen. Finally, he's contacting me. I've been a wreck all day trying to walk the line between checking in and obsessing. Where has he been? Is he coming back? My friends tell me that I need to chill. He needs time because I freaked him out.

I couldn't wait any longer so I called ... a few times. I just needed to know he was ok and that he didn't do anything stupid. He didn't respond.

I don't know why I have to be one of those girls who falls apart like this. I've never loved anyone like I love him, and I have no idea how to handle this kind of emotion ripping through me. I want to scream and cry and go running after him with my arms spread wide. I love you, Josh. More than anything. I do.

Then the text arrives. Grinning, I open my phone and view the message. My grin hurts. The corners of my mouth spasm as the muscles fight with each other. I should be grinning. Why does it hurt? Why has my mouth curled into a snarl of pain? Am I really the one screaming?

His text read:
I read it again, and again. It makes no sense. It's over? Like that? Via a text message? A message that doesn't even make sense!

I roar anger and pain. My throat hurts as I write this, tears blur the screen so that I can't see straight. For a moment, it looks like he wrote I always loved you. He didn't.


10:13 p.m.    Need More Tissues
I have one of those horrible headaches from crying. My eyes are puffy like bright red racoon eyes. I sent Josh a message. I couldn't help it.

No News is Good News?

I checked the Globe again today, looking for more information about Anitech. It seems like a pretty solid journal topic, but there weren't any articles. Not one. Nothing. It just seems odd that nothing would be mentioned, but maybe that has more to do with today being Sunday than anything else. Maybe there will be more in the paper tomorrow. I'm worried about Josh. He still hasn't returned my call from last night. I hope he's ok.

The big topic in the paper is the 2008 Election. McCain. Obama. The press seems intent on tearing them both down in order to see what's left over. I haven't really spent much time thinking about politics since it doesn't really seem to affect me right now. However, a friend mentioned yesterday that the election does affect me and in ways I had never thought about before. Being a college student, I'm depended upon my financial aid and with the economic crisis the banks are pulling back on their funding, which means I may or may not have enough money for tuition next year.

I guess it's time to get serious about voting, but how much impact can one person really have on the world around her? I live in Salem, a small city that lies just north of Boston. My vote is blue, my town is blue, and my state is blue. Even if I didn't vote, the result here would still be blue. So, why vote, especially if the outcome is a given. Our blue state will remain blue. My voice doesn't really matter as it's just a drop in the bucket, but I guess that the reason there is a "bucket" is because a lot of people just like me will be saying he same thing. Without me, the bucket would be a little less full.


11:00 a.m.
Josh just returned my call. He says he's fine, but he didn't sound that way. When I asked if everything was ok at Anitech he told me things were fine. Before answering he paused as if thinking and then spoke carefully and deliberately.

( Read more... )

Journal writing has never really been my thing. I find it difficult to check my email on a daily basis let alone write a journal entry every day, but here I go. My social sciences professor, Mr. Jenkins, has assigned the students in my class to keep a daily log for 30 days in which we discuss current events and how these events affect our personal lives. My god, what can I possibly have to say for thirty days straight?

Current events that aren’t made of shiny plastic people like Britney Spears or President Bush are elusive creatures. Call me a cynic, but where's the "real" news? The plastic society is everywhere – on the TV, in the papers, in magazines. It’s an infestation of celebrity!  

When it comes down to serious topics, how do you pick the event you want to talk about? Should I talk about the pending elections and how that will affect me as a college student? Probably not, since it’s not really affecting me. What about the economic crisis and its effect on the local and national community? Well, again, it’s not really affecting me at this point since I live at home and my next two years are fully funded through scholarships and student loans. Or the sharp increase in unemployment? Again, no, I won’t be entering the job market for a couple of years, and even then the job fairs are likely to hook me up with a Fortune 500 that will hire me at half the cost of a more experienced worker and will expect twice the productivity – but I’m ok with that.

So, what should I talk about? Just reading what I’ve already written makes me feel a little arrogant or naive. Is it possible to be both? This is why I don’t “journal.” I don’t like the way I look on paper.

In any case, I was out tonight having a slice of pepperoni pizza at Boston’s Upper Crust Pizzeria on Charles Street with a few friends when I saw a copy of the Boston Globe lying on an empty stool. The headline caught my attention: “Anitech Research Terminated by CDC.”

“Anitech?” I think to myself. “That’s where Josh works.”

Now, here’s an article that I can use!

For weeks, Josh has been working overtime, called to the lab at odd hours. Josh is one of those hardworking, dedicated professionals that makes his own destiny. That’s what first drew me to him. Well, that and his beautiful blue eyes. Plus, he’s smart and funny. He’s the kind of guy you want to bring home to meet mom and dad. He’s a real catch. I’m lucky to have him. So, when things got weird, I thought he was having an affair. I was pretty sure of it in fact, but I never said anything because I was afraid that he’d stop calling. He said he was working. I guess he was.

Josh is a research assistant for the project featured in the Globe. He said he couldn’t talk about his work, but he did mention that the project was under review. As an art history major, I never thought much about gene therapy beyond anything that Josh might have mentioned, but the article cited faulty trials and unspecified side effects on the test subjects. I’m thinking that can’t be good for Josh. He's probably not doing so well. I should call him. 

I’m sure the judgment will affect Anitech’s stability, but how will it affect Josh’s job? What happens to failed projects? Will he fired? Will he be transferred to another department? Are there other jobs within the company that he can do? How does this work? Where will this leave him in an economy that is on the down swing with a 6.1% unemployment rate according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics?

I wish I had been a bit more patience and understanding with Josh. I mean, I know he has a lot of stress at work, but it never occurred to me that things could be this bad – and they might get worse. He needs me. I should be there for him. I want to be a better girlfriend. Maybe this journal isn't all bad.

My word count is short. Mr. Jenkins is not going to be happy. I’ll have to do better. Tomorrow.

 

I'm starting this journal in order to chronicle a 30-day period in my life. Am I doing this of my own accord? Nope. It's part of an assignment that I was given by Mr. Jenkins, my social sciences professor. So, of course, I'm doing it under protest... well mostly. I need to get at least a "B-" in the course to save my financial aid because college ain't cheap. So, here I am writing a journal. Like, what could possibly happen in the next 30 days that could be remotely interesting?

All right, here's the assignment:


Sounds fun, doesn't it? The posts will begin on November 1st. Happy reading.


*Disclaimer*    This is a fictitious journal that chronicles the life of Stacey Keane over a thirty day period, starting November 1st and ending on November 30th. This journal is being written as an experiment by Erin Underwood in conjunction with National Novel Writing Month. All of the events and people referenced in this journal are fictitious and should NOT be considered as true or factual.