The climax of a narrative or sequence of events...

Who would have thought that the payoff for all the aforementioned hardwork would come so soon? Today, I found out that I am the first ever Director of Public Relations and Marketing for The Burr, one of the school magazines (which is a paid position!).
About 15 minutes after finding out that I got the job, we had our first meeting and we have another meeting on Friday. I feel like I'm being inducted by fire...but I absolutely love it!

Some initial ideas for promotion:

1. Incorporate local businesses into the campaign by asking them to host promotional concerts.
2. Create a grassroots movement, similar to the Obey phenomenon, of ambiguous promotion materials to spark interest and interaction.
3. Taking a multimedia approach to promotions by utilizing standard items such as stickers, fliers, etc...as well as promotional spots in other forms of student media, online videos and, perhaps, photojournalistic efforts.


All of this was cultivated in under an hour. I'm getting very good vibes about this!

I can see my future reflected in the snowflakes.

Here I am, plugging away at my PR case study, surrounded by masses of the student body, all persisting after the same goal: survival. As I type, I look around at the faces. I see stress, anxiety, sugar, caffeine...all basic tools in pursuing towards the final product.

Table after table, strewn with laptops, textbooks, Red Bull, Polar Pop, candy bars, cookies...anything to get us all through the night. Students scrawl notes anxiously and type term papers furiously...all just looking to the end, knowing it will all be over soon. Survival is in their grasp.

Finals are my favorite part of each semester, not because of the mass amounts of labor that are required, but the realization that we're all in this together. I see my own worries and struggles reflected in the faces of my exhausted and work-weary peers and I can comprehend that I'm not alone.

We're all stressed, we're all over-worked, we're all tired. But, we're all also going to succeed. It's times like these that make everything worth it.

Lauren sits next to me, stressing over every objective, strategy, tactic, key message....I look on in awe. I can crank out some ideas but I need more motivation. I shouldn't be blogging...I should be working.

The weather is inclimate now. Each smoke break, the outdoors seem more and more menacing. At the same time, though, it provides some solace. The snow dances across the sides of the building and I reflect on this time last year. The consistency brings me some sort of peace. Although not optimal, the weather here certainly is reliable. I can't wait for this time next year, when I will be frantically completing my PR campaign. These hours in the library will bring me closer to that time when I will finally be free. Free to do as I please and start to make my way in the world. Is it strange that I see my future reflected in the snow? I look out the window and see everything ahead of me.

I can't wait.


I hope this is what my future looks like...I want my hippie days.

Waiting for the beat to kick in, but it never does...

Other than saying I wish I was more like the woman to the left (SJP ♥), this post will not be so much about my words today as another's words which have truly inspired me.

The song below really struck a note with me the other day. It came to me at a time when I was thinking about the same things. (Except I was more worried about writing term papers than writing some mad beatz...)

What do you mean keep it real, could someone please explain,
when reality is just light interpreted by your brain?
And if mine and your perceptions ain't one & the same,
which one of us is normal and which one is insane?

The skin never forgets a deep abrasion,
yet your brain often forgets deep conversations.
This annoys me, due to the nature of humanity.
I want to remember the good, not just the bad things that happened to me.
And, yeah, I understand the mind's an intricate tapestry.
So is the skin and that still records damage, see.

This scar above my eyebrow is from when I was a kid
and my skin has kept record of the damage I did.
Twenty some years down the line from that very day,
documentation of the carelessness and the price you pay.
Yet, this over-complex brain that just sits inside of my head
can't remember the last things me & my friend J said.

I don't want to be just devoid of desire.
I don't want to be another bird on the wire.
I don't want to be just a log on the fire.
I don't want to be that at all.

I've got a heart rate that's erratic.
I guess god fucked up the schematic.
I can't hack it and I panic and that makes it go pneumatic,
causing landslides tearing at my insides.

Sometimes I think I'll live forever, but I know I won't.
When I really should be working on the flow, I dont.
I just sit here & read extracts from this note I wrote,
trying to find something that is worth a quote.

Fixing up mad bitches like lobotomy stitches.
When I hit a tight rhyme see my leg, it twitches.
I ain't into this game for the fame or riches.
Good to write tight rhymes, street poems and scriptures.

Now what's the point I'm making? Why I'm saying this out loud?
Am I convincing myself or pandering to the crowd?
You hear every word, you would still never know me.
Like Sean Penn could win 10 Oscars but he'll still be Spicoli.



(Rapper's Battle - Dan Le Sac vs Scroobius Pip)