unedited

You know, I posted a few blogs in the "regular" font size with the intentions of fewer folks having to squint while reading. Then I realized, you know what Laura Jane, no one reads this that doesn't mind the occasional squint. Maybe in the next step of my personal branding campaign I can find an ideal blog font size, too.

This weekend was incredible. I hit the ground RUNNING AND SCREAMING after my first, short week of work, which I will get into later. I skipped out the door and, of course, hit Happy Hour, ate a hot dog, grumbled about Critical Mass before taking off around town on my own with my friend Howell, beer, beer, more beer, whiskey, music, backporch grumbling. And then I fell asleep at the studio.

The heavenly sleep situation led to beautiful things Saturday morning...and somewhat of a hangover, but I know how to tackle those. I rolled over to the GLife to slurp down lots of coffee, watch YogaMoms from NorthshoreYoga sit around and chatter in their expensive yoga outfits, and otherwise gaze at Northshore happenings with my shades on, still comprehending what happened Friday night. This is pretty typical; what happened next, however, was so fortuitous.

I made a few phone calls to catch up with people I hadn't spoken to all week. Sequatchie Cove Farms distributed its beautiful produce to shareholders or subscribers, and I spotted an old friend. He filled me in on a choice ghost from my past -- I say ghost because we really did share an encounter, but I doubt I will ever, EVER see that person again -- who was in town that particular day. Said ghost had moved to California soon after I moved to/from Portland. Funny how people cycle through times of their lives....and how those cycles overlap. Chance encounters, I suppose, aren't really left up to chance.

That was the first one. I said hello to a new painter friend who works at the orchid farm up on Signal Mountain. I've seen his stuff before, and I wanted to call one of the paintings "bike porn." This sprouted a whole different chain of thoughts in my head about having a bike porn store, what that would entail and exactly what customer/artist that would attract. Anyways, I digress. I rolled around Frazier feeling somewhat accomplished on my hungover morning; I bought some T-shirts and realized I looked absolutely terrible. I headed up the hill.

Just as my heart started pouding, my breath sounded like a freight train and my legs started to burn, I spotted a yard sale. Sweet relief, I say. Sure enough, this chica was having a HUGE sale before moving to Caifornia. Sure enough, she was selling loads of cute, professional-ish clothes. Sure enough, we were about the same size. Almost an hour later, I had three bags of nice clothes, a coffee grinder, a few plates and a yoga mat ready to go to my home. After a trip to the ATM, where I stumbled into yet another friend, my pops rolled down the hill and threw my yard-sale jackpot winnings + me + bike in the truck. I never would have made it up the hill, even without the loot.

Thus began my weekend on the boat. A few beers and no less than 15 coats of sunscreen later and I was about to fall asleep around seven Saturday evening. It was heavenly. Knowing me, I pushed it a little bit further and decided to roll down the hill. STRAIGHT down the hill, over the Market Street bridge and down on Main to eat with Keith. Two tamales later and I was fixin to fall asleep again. I had some emotional baggage to be claimed from the evening before, so the evening rounded up with that, and lots of laughs at the tuxedoed, drunk fucks trying to hoard their skanky girlfriends into vehicles. There was a lot going on last night, apparently.

And today, I awoke feeling refreshed, replenished and all around amazing. We spent a solid five hours out on the lake, me somewhat avoiding the sun with a giant hat and gobs of 'screen, and I helped pops start peeling the old name off his boat. A big dinner later and I'm ready to collapse...

...only to prepare for the deuxieme semaine at my pub job! I had such a good first week: I think I'll get the hang of the process quickly and be speedier in no time. I work with some happenin folks, in a happenin place, where I believe I can balance my life/passion with my work. And no, they don't have to be the same thing. I could wax poetic and get into the metacommunication of this all, but hey, it's only week two. Who knows what will become of it/me.

My sheets make me feel a bit dizzy, I have sea legs/head from boating all weekend, my sun avoidance worked good enough so I don't have a burn, I have planned for this week: potluck, friends, Lookouts game, boat at Riverbend, biking to work... at least TWO days.

Aaaand... SLEEP.

Ch Ch Ch Changes

I think this Monday build-up is far more nerve-wracking than the first day of school. The feelings and anticipation surrounding my first day of work mirrors those late August days before school. The summer had ended, afternoons on the lake and big thunderstorms subsided to a regular schedule. I realize the summer has yet to begin; my season off work, however, is ending.

It's a significant change in my life. Working at the newspaper, I often felt that a full-time job never was part of my future. Of course it would be fun and "neat," I always thought, especially after my short, full-time stint at HGTV. I also clung to an ideal that I had to LOVE what I did to make money, and that work would become my main passion. I can even see it in the cynicism and negativity I harbored against my employers and the bureaucracy that enraged me. This seems like a pretty typical response for a fresh J-school grad though.

So I packed up my few belongings and skipped across the country, looking for that ideal job, that ideal city with those ideal bike lanes. Portland is "so cool," according to...everybody, apparently. It was cool, but it wasn't for me. Not yet at least. Living 3,500 miles away from my dearest family and best friends helped me realize the loves of my life. I like the challenges still apparent and on-going in the South, the ones that once enraged me and drove me so far away. Portland was full of passionate people. The environment there, the volcanoes and other seismic activity, and the culture attracted folks of all colors, backgrounds, and with different interests. Portland made me feel a little apathetic and a little more moderate than I had imagined. My passions lie elsewhere.

In the meantime, though, to complete my exploratory mission v. 2009, I road the rails across the country. I was still chasing some dream, which for two seconds was to teach little people. I met lots of young kids who were on a similar adventure, retired couples who were vacationing, folks who were laid off and taking time off, farmers, mothers, babies. I saw beautiful landscapes, incredible mountains and the great plains. I rolled into Chicago, and a few hours later landed in the homeland of New Orleans where two precious friends awaited my arrival.

Somewhere in the mix of all this talk, travel and living, I realized it is not what I do to keep the lights on that makes me passionate. I am fortunate enough to have landed a position that will help me be the best writer, another fear I've held since J-school. And I'm passionate about writing and publications, something I lose sight of at times. But it's the Chattanooga visionary efforts, the music scene, the great friends and conversations and renegade bike rides that make me feel complete. The main stuff. The celebrations, the reunions, the cycles and patterns and folks who swirl in and out of my life and mirror what is going on in my own. That is the change I look forward to and the change I embrace on this Memorial Day, May 25, 2009, the day before I re-enter the workforce as a copywriter in downtown Chattanooga, Tenn.

So break out the style book! Round up your favorite pens, and lay out your outfit for tomorrow, Laura Jane. It is a new day, and my Tuesday will be filled with new faces, lots of names, a new building with history, more early mornings, more battling wrist issues.

up and outdated

It's a cloudy, overcast Saturday here in the Chattanoogie, and I'm about to head to the northshore for Hip Fest (?) and Who-Fest, which I know is an arts event in Renaissance park. Furthermore, Greenlife is having a beer n brats tasting and sale. The G is def. one of my priorities on this lovely, grill-friendly holiday weekend.

This week I've had my idealism dashed in the sand, shared great conversation over wine with a friend, gotten the party and pizzaz out of my system*, found a lead on a house off N. Market Street, and pulled together a somewhat-professional wardrobe for my fancy new job. I address and mailed some necessary thank-yous, twittered probably more than I should have and indulged in my favorite time of day, the Happiest Hour.

Best of all though, I was reminded of a post I wrote a few weeks ago. Regardless of what folks do, say or think about the ChattanoogaSTAND initiative, an group of volunteers who ask questions and enable and engage folks in conversation is A GOOD THING.



*for the next 45 minutes!

"Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world," wrote anthropologist Margaret Meade. "Indeed, it's the only thing that ever has." An excellent example of that occurred during America's Revolutionary War against England from 1775 to 1783. Of all the men in the 13 colonies who could have fought for freedom, only 16 percent did. I hope that gives you encouragement as you seek to fix a glitch in the status quo. You and your band of allies have more power than you know.

Rob Breszny on Leo's fabulous horoscope for the week of May 21, 2009.

workin lady

Joy of all joys! Fists shakin, eyes pointed to the heavens!

I AM EMPLOYED!

I recieved an offer to be a copywriter with True North Custom Publishing, a local company that produces healthcare-related magazines and newsletters. I graciously accepted that offer, of course, and I start work next Tuesday.

This followed yet another day filled with the usual stresses of unemployment: I continue to spend money I don't have, flail around town for no reason on my bike (notably, a favorite hobby), and otherwise network and shamelessly promote myself. Really, my current living situation was the biggest daily nag. While I am so gracious to have a place to live, I look forward to my own apartment. And guess what? I get to live somewhere. ALONE. I want to live in a flat place, as well. While climbing Mt. North Chattanooga gives me the biker butt and legs I've always dreamed of, it severly limits my accessibility to things I love to do in town.

What's that, you say? Hardcore biking, not for me? Yes, friends, this is right. I would much prefer a set-up similar to the slow, short cruise I had from Fourth and Gill to downtown Knoxville. It enabled me to ride home late at night instead of dealing with the worries that fill my head when I consider riding up Tremont or Boylston streets. Not to mention the quick climb up North Market/Old Dallas, where, upon moving back to Crestwood, had me wondering how and what I should write in my will.

(Wendy Walker, attorney-at-law in Knoxville, Tenn., advised me on our brief Mother's Day encounter that I can write my will on paper, in a journal or somewhere you folks would find it, and it will be considered as my final wishes.)

Regardless, I would prefer to live in Andrae McGary's 8th district. McGary recently won a run-off for the city council seat, and while I am still wholly uneducated on Chattanooga politicking, I want to pay my rent where I work, spend my money and hang out. Downtown Chattanooga, here I come.

Did I mention I get to work on 8th and Broad? This will include extensive bike riding to and from work. It will include free parking for that car I don't have. Maybe there's a fancy shmancy bike ride around the back of the building. Who knows. Maybe I'll have a bike-to-work buddy at True North. And financial stability. And a portfolio! Let the Laura Jane branding campaign begin. Fonts? Layout? Webpage? Yes, please.

research topics

Overcome by a week of interviews, excitement and joy, Monday opens with a determination I have not experienced in some time.

Tonight I'm attending volunteer training at STAND. Are you a Chattanoogan? What do you want our city to look like in 20 years? Concerned about schools, intergrating communities, public transit? What the Volkswagen plant will change? How would you manage that? Give us your two cents in four easy questions. Then tell your friends, tell your barista, your bartender, your cousin, your former English teacher, your bus driver.

Pulled into the mix by Grace, plus hometown gusto and enthusiasm, I want to help reshape the community. I want to use my networking skills, my smile, my brains and writing for the greater good. And I want to hear about what you're doing. How you got started. Where you got published. Shall we collaborate?

Last week after bouncing around downtown I ran into said former English teacher, Marie Daly. Her low-lighted, comfortable classroom and creative writing influence during my stay at Notre Dame High School are unforgettable. When I recognized her, I dropped a phone call and started talking. She and her husband are behind the up-and-coming Ivy Academy of Chattanooga.
A charter school out in the North Chick watershed area, the school will cater to non-traditional learning styles. I need to know more, I will know more. It was so fortutious to run into her. I then sat at the board meeting, which is comprised of influential outdoor leaders including the folks at Reflection Riding and the Chattanooga Nature Center.

Shoo.

Come to Chattanooga's Bicycle Task Force meeting today, 12:30 at 1250 Market St. 2B. Public meeting featuring guest speaker TDOT's Jessica Wilson. Roll downtown and let's give em some feedback. Or at least listen.

****

Routines are routine is routine.

The sun is shining on this seemingly all-too-glorious morning. I awoke feeling slightly groggy around 7:15 a.m., which apparently is what I like to do living on Crestwood. I thought my family's morning noises caused me to rouse early. In the silent house though, only the sun shining through all the windows wakes me.

Living out west, I thought I would never adjust to Pacific time. I didn't, really, but I also lacked a definite routine...beyond sleeping as long as I wanted and playing around town all day. It also was very dark the extent of my time there; quite depressing, really, but this was inevitable.

Southern sunshine, Southern sweat and tears keep me grounded.

I interviewed with a local custom publishing company yesterday on Broad Street. I nervously bounced in the nice downtown building and nailed the interview, I guess, or did well enough. I was prepared for this one. Less than three hours later, I was called back for a second interview on Thursday. Sweet, sweet victory, regardless of whether I get the position. I'm trying to stay focused on the moment and Thursday's writing and proofing tests, though it's hard to banish fantasies about a full-time job. This little former PT newspaper worker has never known something so sweet. Talk about living in luxury! FOCUS FOCUS FOCUS, Laura Jane...

Otherwise my days have been filled with enjoyable bike riding and new Chattanooga friends. Last night, Kelly, Keith, Paul and I rode down the Riverwalk all the way to the big park by Chatt State. Our route, starting at the Hunter, reminded me so much of days past spent rollerblading down that path. And cross-country practice with my Notre Dame runners. And high school, and exactly how long it had been since my last visit to the river.

The sun set on us, and we indulged in a brew and half-price oysters at the Boathouse. I rolled home, up the hill, on the unusually cool and beautiful evening. Biking is far easier in that temperature, but I need not complain. I'm just happy I can wear shorts, no coat, and most of the time, I don't have to worry about rain.

LAUGH HARD IT'S A LONG WAY TO THE BANK!!

Public Meeting for a Sustainable Tennessee Valley Region

Neighbors! Friends! Community Members!

Come out to the public meeting for the 2009 Sustainable Design Assessment Team.

Wednesday, May 6, 6:30 p.m.

UTC's University Center Auditorium

East 5th Street, Chattanooga, TN

Please join the nationally renowned team as they share their initial findings and observations about creating a sustainable Tennessee Valley region.

This presentation is made possible by the American Institute of Architects (AIA) and the Lyndhurst Foundation.

In conjunction with AIA Chattanooga, the City of Chattanooga, Hamilton County, Catoosa County, EPB, greenspaces, and the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga.

Main Street Farmer's Market - every Wednesday!

As the rain continutes to fall on Chattanooga, Tenn., all I can seem to do is find distractions from the piles of applications and resumes I should be sending to various companies. Maybe that has to do with Jolie Holland singing in the background, or the damned TweetDeck I uploaded this week.

I really have mixed feelings about Twitter and its connectivity. No, MY connectivity. Wireless internet at the folks' house keeps me far too "updated" on all web happenings. I try to see it as one day finding work, discovering new events happening in town, and promoting events and issues I care about. Not to mention finding a JOB, a REAL JOB editing, writing or promoting something on the web. Sadly, print is dying. Web is the preferred medium, in my opinion, or if not preferred than the dominant medium.

I started to recognize a few things I miss about Oregon this morning, particularly about the weather and produce, but my friend Chris quickly commented on Fbook about the local produce available at Wednesday's Main Street Farmer's Market!

Wednesdays from 4:00 - 6:00 pm
On Main St. Between Market and Broad
On the Corner of Main & Williams...Across from Hiroshi's Sushi
Downtown Chattanooga, Southside

What's Ripe this week

Alexzanna Farms: Strawberries, nettles, cut flowers

Clover Wreath Farms: Lettuce, Green Onions, Herbs, Tomato Plants

Dancing Fern Nursery: An assortment of perennial natives plants from
this wonderful native plant nursery located at
Sequatchie Cove Farm. Come and talk with
Miriam about what native plants will grow
well in your yard.

Irie Hilltop Farm: Vegetable plants for your home garden

River Ridge Farms: Grass Fed Beef, Pastured Pork, Spinach, Radishes

Sale Creek Honey
Honey from the hills and valleys around us. Eddie McKenzie is a master beekeeper; we and the bees are lucky to have him in our region.
Local Honey
Local Beeswax candles

Sequatchie Cove Farm:Strawberries, Eggs, Grass-fed Beef, Pastured Pork, Lettuce, Baby Spinach, SunSugar Tomato Plants, Chive Plants, Fresh Cilantro Bunches

Williams Island Farm: Eggs from hens that roam the island freely, Lettuce, Arugula, Kale, Baby Bok Choy

I'll be in attendance, won't you? I wish I knew how to hide that list so you had to click on it... who knows how to do this? Errrr. Web skillz fall short of this.

My writing is really vague. I'm sorry. Maybe I'll work on this.

Some other day. Heh.

Take a STAND!

(Ed. Note: This blog was inspired by ChattanoogaStand.com. I formally invite YOU to let us know what Chattanooga's future should look like. Let's here it!)

What do I want in Chattanooga?

I want to protect the natural beauty of Chattanooga, and clean it up while we're there.

I want to teach others how to care for the land on which we play, regardless of political agenda, upbringing, etc. Demonstrating the direct effects of taking good care of the earth and how that benefits EVERYONE...it can be done. It's more than a marketing message.

I want to see more school communities like the one I attended as more affordable and accessible options to more families.

I want a health food store other than Greenlife. I want grocers to be community leaders AND business folks.

I want to see more commuting bikers and organized neighborhood bike rides. This is a beautiful place, and two-wheeled tours engage riders and connect them with neighbors, neighborhoods and new places.

I want a movie theater that serves beer and shows movies for cheap.

I want speed bumps on West Mississippi Ave. I want passenger trains to go through at least one Central or East Tennessee town.

(Print is dead, Laura Jane. Shut your trap about weeklies! You remember how angry the ones in Portland made you? Sheesh. Stick with this web business. It's sticky, and fun.)

I want a First Friday art walk (or maybe I just don't know about it).

I want to ban smoking from all restaurants and bars!

(And for this to happen...) I want to be on a first-name basis with my elected representatives.

All of these things are centered around me and my needs. Not once did I write about organizations that feed and shelter the homeless...gentrification...minorities. There is a lot of social and ethical concern, but it's not on my front burner. I think I underestimate a lot of what goes on in the up and coming area where we boogied down last night. I think I underestimate a lot of Chattanoogans.

I want to learn humility, patience and how to love wholly and freely.

I want to help erase cynicism from the forefront of my generation's mind and attitude.

I want to embrace that which makes me uncomfortable and uneasy.

My first list of wants would indirectly benefit or effect others, I guess. My motivations aren't awful.

Biking through otherwise overlooked neighborhoods puts individuals in touch with the neighbors. Riders aren't behind glass windows, afraid of stereotypical "bad neighborhood" behavior, but are waving to folks, ringing their bike bells and smiling. The connection between bike riders and front porch folks could SOME DAY change a driver's perspective behind the wheel.

Art on Wheels? First Friday comes to the lovely Chattanooga? Monthly neighborhood/event bike rides?

Biggest and Brightest

It's funny where and when inspiration will hit you. Not doodling around town all day, talking about moms and friends and family and kindergarten. Not even walking through the cemetery by St. Elmo with Megan, or riding up Lookout and soaking up the mountain and its history, the gorgeous houses and trees that surrounded the road.

But rather, it comes after the day sinks in and I can't possibly twitter my way through the rainy Friday evening. The hulu movies I attempted to watch were dumbed down to free softcore (and bad) "romantic" stories. It wasn't too hard to figure out how they got such high ratings. Convinced my eyes were "too weary" to pick up Kafka that's been collecting dust beside my bed, I pressed on via the web. Must. Be. Something. to discover this evening. When really, the affirmation came this afternoon.

Living at home can be a rocky place. The mental and emotional anguish of feeling like a "failure," of succumbing to silly and fantastic ideas that left me financially strapped, weighs heavy on my psyche. A judger, I fear what others will think of me, specifically my kin. This can be taxing for all involved, especially my giant ego.

This afternoon, though, Megan picked me up in her gold car and we wheeled around town. I drank enough caffeine for both of us as the conversation opened up. We bubbled on about what we've been doing, what turns out lives have taken since our last encounter awhile back. Gossip about family, relationships, folks we knew growing up. There was a casual give and take, not caring what the fellow coffee shop patrons thought of our stories of personal revolutions. It just flowed. She's a feeler, fully involved, and a lover and a healer. We talked about sex, our parents, death, divorce, sexuality in the South, generations, art.

So with one successful freelance gig in the works, my bummer attitude about living at home faded a little bit. It's manageable, and I certainly am fortunate to be well fed, well loved and looked after. To reconnect with a childhood friend, someone with whom I attended 12 years of school, only to discover we have more in common than ever before? That is a true gift. It's what Chattanooga represents though: history intertwined with new, creative life.

Now I need to channel that and challenge myself to make this work. It's as if I discovered my dream job. To live and work in a community that is bursting with new energy and is a hotbed of artistic startups with established support. And to use my skills, which have been limited to editing thus far, to use my writing to aid in the communication of this work? That is what I want to do for work. It involves computers, yes, but it also involves (we should hope) some nonprofit work and more freelance opportunities. Hopefully to include an article on Keith's church...

Church. Saturday. Bikes! Must sleep and rise early to catch thousands of riders in the 3 state 3 mountain ride. Poor folks gonna have chafing in places they didn't know could chafe.

so good to be home

Thanks, Chattanooga, for cheerin me up exactly when I needed it.

Last night Kelly, Keith and I rolled over to CreateHere for Pecha Kucha Night No. 3. The global network of events offers an evening of brief, less than seven minute presentations, with each presenter allowed 20, 20-second slides. It's quick, interesting and from my first experience, quite entertaining. I learned about the brains behind cabeen originals, about the TreMontsters from an architect, and from the Norhtshore Yoga inspirations Jessica Jollie and Sara Mingus.

I left thinking, "What would I want to present?" The wheels are turning. Copy editing for dummies? Critical mass and all its glory? Group bike rides in general? Bicycle enthusiasm? Proposing downtown rides?

I want to thank Knoxville for the training wheels so literally provided for me. Only after moving across the country did I fully see, love and appreciate the good energy, events and GREAT folks there. The biking organization, the art scene, First Fridays, new neighborhoods, attention to pedestrian culture, Jack Neely... bangin' businesses like my brother's bike shop, the Fountain City Pedaler.

I could go on! And I should. I need to utilize my networking skills for the best. I'm good at this web stuff, and I can make this web stuff work for me. It's time! Pecha Kucha here I come.

And Chattanooga, thanks for havin' me back.