new year’s

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the emails (the viaduct, year seven)

Posted by EXIT265C on June 1, 2011
Posted in: Uncategorized. Tagged: , . 2 comments

Here is further explanation of the Christopher Newport University campus media crisis with the email from the previous entry attached.

May 31, 2011

To: CNU Student Media Board; Dr. Scott Pollard, Faculty Senate President; Concerned Students and Faculty

From: Terry Lee, Student Media Board member and newspaper Faculty Adviser

Subject: University Initiatives to Defund Currents, The Limelight and

The Captain’s Log newsprint, and to convert the Student Media Board to a Student Club

I’m writing to apprise you of recent developments concerning the status of the Student Media Board (SMB) and media outlets on campus, developments that will inhibit the independence and dissemination of the student newspaper and effectively “dissolve” the Student Media Board by stripping it of its budgetary oversight role. This measure would effectively inhibit the SMB freedom-of-the-press firewall between the university administration and student government groups, and the student media. Following this introduction is a brief timeline and synopsis of meetings and outcomes.

I am asking SMB Chair Matt Davenport to call a meeting of the SMB in the near future to address this trend toward enervating the free press at CNU.

As a member of the SMB, as well as faculty adviser to the student newspaper for seventeen years, I am concerned that recent actions may, intentionally or unintentionally, constitute a pattern that will erode the independence of student media at CNU. The pattern is developing on two fronts: a so-called “green initiative” whereby the university will no longer allow the use of Student Activity Funds (SAF) to pay for the printing of the newspaper; a demand to convert the SMB to a student club to maintain its vital Front-End budgeting status—this from the newly formed student Front-End Budgeting (FEB) Student Activities Fee Appropriation Committee, ostensibly headed by Michelle Reed. At the same time, Provost Mark Padilla has initiated action to move the journalism curriculum from the English Department to Communication Studies, a move that wouldn’t directly inhibit freedom of the press on campus, but that could potentially disrupt continuity in journalism studies, as well as the role of the current newspaper faculty adviser.

The pattern began Feb. 23, 2011. In a meeting with the provost, I was told that news stories in the student newspaper were having a negative impact on faculty searches because prospective faculty pick up the newspaper, see stories critical of the administration and president and raise questions about the university. The provost told me that the administration believes that the newspaper is not ethical, that the editors are “scandal mongers.” He said that the administration has been “connecting the dots” in the newspaper’s coverage in the last year and found the newspaper to be distasteful. He told me that the president isn’t happy with the newspaper and that the president would be talking to me about it. To date, I have heard nothing from the president.

In dealings with the Dean of Students, we have apparently been misled twice:

• We were told, in writing (see attached letter) that a student committee (FEB Student Activities Fee Appropriation Committee) refused to allocate funds for the printed edition of the newspaper so as to help further “the University’s goal of becoming a ‘green campus.’” A student member of that committee, who is also the Student Assembly president, Jett Johnson, wrote in email that the student committee “did not discuss this issue [defunding newsprint] in any form” (see his email below) that, in fact, he is personally against defunding the newsprint edition.

• The attached letter outlining the student committee’s decisions to defund Currents and The Limelight (those decisions apparently did come from the student committee) as well as defund newsprint, is signed in typescript, but without a personal signature, by Michelle Reed, who works in the office of Student Activities. Ms. Reed has said that not only did she not write the letter, but she had never seen it. She asked for a copy.

Respectfully,

Terry Lee

Associate Professor of English

Director, Journalism Program

Below is a synopsis of events that have occurred since my Feb. 23 meeting with the provost:

• April 22

Emily Cole, Victoria Shirley and I met with Dean Hughes and Provost Padilla, who wanted students to explain how the newspaper operated. At the end of the meeting, I asked why the dean called this meeting. He said that he wanted to help the newspaper by finding out what could be done to invest more in technology, i.e., for a green-campus initiative in which the newsprint edition would not be published. Emily Cole, the incoming editor, said she was committed to preserving the newsprint edition.

• May 6

I was summoned again to meet with the provost. Dean Steven Breese also attended. I was asked how I would feel about moving the journalism curriculum into Communication Studies—out of English, out of my control. In short, I said I would cooperate with this, though I clearly would not have initiated such a move. When I asked if the provost had discussed this move with anyone else, he said that he had just discussed it with Linda Baughman, Communication Studies chair, who was very enthusiastic about taking on journalism. My course one course release per academic year, which the newspaper budget funds, would be stripped.

• May 8

I emailed Linda Baughman, saying that I would cooperate and that we should meet.

• May 11

I met with Dean Hughes, Student Assembly President and FEB Student Activities Fee Appropriation Committee member Jett Johnson, SMB Chair Matt Davenport, out-going newspaper editor Victoria Shirley and incoming editor Emily Cole. We were given a letter (attached), ostensibly written by Michelle Reed, which demanded that the SMB convert to a club status or be “dissolved, from a budgetary stand point, and have no funding authority moving forward;” that the newspaper must submit a revised budget in which funds allocated for newsprint would be reallocated for technology purchases because the student committee wanted the newspaper to go green. The letter also defunded Currents and The Limelight, and reduced funding for WCNU—all with no consultation whatsoever with the SMB.

In this meeting, I tried to find a compromise between the student journalists, who were upset that newsprint funding was stripped, and the administration, which, as I suggested in the meeting, wanted to be able to get public relations value by claiming that the newspaper was “going green.” (I later reversed my decision on compromise: see: May 17, below.)

• May 11

Email from Jett Johnson to Victoria Shirley and Emily Cole in which Johnson makes it clear that the “going green” initiative did not come from the student FEB committee. Here is the email:

From: Jett Johnson

Date: Wed, May 11, 2011 at 5:04 PM

Subject: Follow-Up Regarding FEB Meeting – Please Read

To: Victoria Shirley, Emily Cole

Victoria and Emily,

Thank you for taking the time to attend today’s meeting. I just wanted to follow up with the two of you with a comment.

I do, of course, stand by the decisions of the FEB Allocations Committee, however, I cannot say that I, or the committee, support the “Going Green” initiative. I wanted to make it said that the FEB Allocations Committee did not discuss this issue in any form, so it was completely out of our hands. In fact, I personally do not agree with this initiative, pertaining to your organization, and I feel as though that it is something that the Student Assembly could back the CLOG on in the future if you do pursue action against the “Going Green” idea. The concept of placing “students first” should trump this, as do to the fact that rearranging funds is seemingly a simple PR stunt; so, this process should in no way impede student organizations in negative ways. Obviously I do not know what your future actions will be and I am sure it will be a while before you do as well, however I just wanted to extend the fact that the Student Assembly is here to support the best interests of the student and, to me, this does not seem to be in our best interests.

Thank you for taking the time for my thoughts,

–

Jett Johnson

CNU Student Assembly, President

• May 13

Email from Linda Baughman to her department and me. She writes that Comm Studies doesn’t want to hire a specialist in journalism—they don’t have one now, either—because it would be “a waste of effort and resources” and because the “field [could] be ‘dead’ in 7-10 years.” The idea developed to create an interdisciplinary journalism minor.

• May 17

I emailed Dean Hughes saying that the compromises I thought I could propose now seemed to me impossible because of the blatant disregard for the freedom of the press that the Student Media Board was formed in 2007 to ensure. In the email, I said that I refused to accept the conversion of the SMB to a student club and asked that the FEB demands and decisions be retracted and forwarded to the SMB for a thoughtful and timely decision. I wrote to him privately, asking for a meeting to discuss my renewed concerns. Dean Hughes responded in a May 24 email, apologizing for not getting back to me and saying he would in 24-48 hours. As of this writing, he has not.

• May 26

I met with Matt Davenport, SMB chair, Emily Cole, newspaper editor and Rachel Carter, newspaper business manager to discuss their concerns about the budget and student FEB committee demands. They were relieved when I reported that I had written Dean Hughes, refusing to accept his / FEB’s demands. We learned that Michelle Reed, who works in the Student Activities office and leads the student FEB Student Activities Fee Appropriation Committee, had not written the letter reporting the student committee’s demands (see attached letter) and had never seen it. She asked for a copy.

ATT: http://www.scribd.com/fullscreen/56752921?access_key=key-2oohihsswijb218pi63q

Year VI: Pigalicious

Posted by EXIT265C on June 1, 2010
Posted in: Uncategorized. Tagged: , , , . 3 comments

This trip was a year in the making. And what a year it has been.

Originally, my best friend and fraternity brother Bill and I were to voyage to Lexington, N.C., the Barbecue Capital of the World, to find or instigate a rivalry. Instead, a few weeks after our award-winning trip to Philadelphia (seriously, I got a Virginia Press Association award for it), I got the bright idea of buying a bike for $30 instead vodka of equal or lesser value and wound up unable to eat solid food for a bit. I also got a sweet scar out of the deal but that’s neither here nor there. The day of our deferred hamaganza extravaganza finally arrived Memorial Day weekend.

Nearly a year after what my hospital records describe in obtuse medical terms as a &#8220faceplant,&#8221 we were on Interstate 85 &#8212 me sleeping off a hangover in the passenger seat in my own car and our friend Karen dozing in the back while Bill drove &#8212 heading toward Lexington. The city consists of about 20,000 people and has a ratio of one industrial kitchen full of hickory smoke and pork shoulder for every thousand people. Throw in the usual suspects as far as fast food outlets in the city as well and you can see why the majority of the citizens are overweight and probably have stoves that are collecting dust. Lexington is probably the most unhealthy city in the country and I am completely OK with it because it is unhealthily delicious. God bless America.

In advance of our new efforts to take this trip, Bill and I searched for a rivalry there. Last May, we found a contradiction: the website for one of the restaurants, Speedy’s, said it was the best in not only the town but also America and another had a superlative that negated the aforementioned. We couldn’t find the second one online when we looked but we settled for Whitley’s, home of Hogzilla, the 12-pound barbecue sandwich. We weren’t foolhardy enough to order that in advance but figured, if they sell their pork in duodecimal increments, it has to be good.

We arrived at Speedy’s first. It had curbside and eat-in service. Anyone who eats outside is missing out. The décor is, if you know my brother Rob, would be the things of which his dreams are made. When we lived together in college, Rob would constantly buy movie posters. It didn’t matter if he had seen them or if the movies were worth the film on which they were printed. They were just everywhere. The posters at Speedy’s ranged from &#8220Star Wars&#8221 to &#8220The Day the Earth Stood Still&#8221 to &#8220Twilight.&#8221 We ate near the &#8220Rocky&#8221 poster.

&#8220It’s a cameo appearance from our last food trip,&#8221 Bill said.

In basest terms, barbecue is barbecue is barbecue. Kill pig, build wood fire, cook pig for long time. In Lexington, the centerpiece is the barbecue sauce, the &#8220dip&#8221 and the red slaw, coleslaw that substitutes the mayo with the barbecue sauce. Although, in this case, the sauce (which is apparently different in every restaurant and a closely-guarded secret) would be the deciderer, I have to say that Speedy’s sliced pork was THE most delicious piece of pig flesh I have ever ingested before in my entire life. As their name implies, the food arrived quickly. The pork feel apart before my fork ever reached it. The hickory flavor was strong but not too strong. it didn’t need dip. It was incredible. It was incredible.

Don’t get me wrong. Their dip was good. It seemed to be missing a little something, though, and I can’t put my finger on what. I’m thinking maybe brown sugar. But I’m a man who likes his barbecue sauce a little sweet. It did go incredibly well with the copious amount of hush puppies they gave us.

&#8220So … happy,&#8221 Karen said with great relish. &#8220Hush puppies.&#8221 She dipped them into the … er … dip. &#8220Just let them soak.&#8221

We decided to give ourselves a break between porcine goodness so our next stop was Childress Vineyards.

The winery is owned by Richard Childress of NASCAR fame. &#8220Richard’s passion for fine wine is as genuine as his passion for auto racing,&#8221 the winery’s Web site says. He loves drinking as much as he loves driving, eh? Gotta see this.

Surprisingly, it didn’t look like a grape vine managed to spring up in Turn 4. And the wines are delicious, as the medals around the bottled in the above picture attest. I adored the syrah. No idea why I didn’t buy any. Oh, I know: I don’t have any close wino friends at the moment. I now have two wineglasses in the city so I should get on changing that.

Our next stop was Uptown Lexington, home of Pigs on Parade. We weren’t quite sure where uptown was so we headed downtown. Well, what do you know? Downtown is Uptown. I bet that totally didn’t come up when consultants pitched revitalizing downtown. &#8220′Down’ has such negative connotations. The center of town isn’t down, it’s on its way up. In fact, it’s ‘UPtown.’&#8221

It was about 5 p.m. on a holiday weekend so the sidewalks were already rolled up. Also, since it was not barbecue festival time, most of the pigs were indoors and not on parade. From the ones that we saw, I am endeared with full sized fiberglass pigs scattered throughout a town.

After all of this walking, I was getting a bit peckish. We charted our course for Hogzilla. We arrived. Damn. It’s closed. Wait. This looks more than closed. &#8220Thanks for your love and support&#8221 is on the sign. Fuck.

&#8220That sounds like it’s closed for good,&#8221 I said.

&#8220I just looked at their Web site,&#8221 Bill replied.

We drove into the parking lot. No, that is definitely closed for good. I can tell. There was a sign on the door. &#8220CLOSED DUE TO DEATH.&#8221 We found out later that Whitley’s owner died in a motorcycle crash in April.

Well, now what? There are 18 options and we haven’t done enough research to see what a challenge to Speedy’s claim would be. We stopped at a pharmacy. I know: ask some locals what their favorite joint is.

Two people directed us to Jimmy’s, which happened to be around the corner. I wondered if it was simply a side of town thing but we were approaching not getting back to Richmond until midnight. Jimmy’s it is then.

Jimmy’s looked like a stereotypical 1960s southern diner. With plasma screens on the walls. It wasn’t as speedy as Speedy’s and we didn’t get our own pitchers of our drinks but I’ll be dammed if they weren’t pushing their sweet tea as if it were crack. *takes two sips* &#8220Need more tea, hon?&#8221

Jimmy’s had two sauces. There was a strong, peppery dip in a re-purposed Texas Pete container. And then there was this:

I forgot to draw majesty lines around that Styrofoam cup of glory. Behind us, on the coffee maker simmered Jimmy’s dip. Unlike Speedy’s, it was served piping hot. I have ingested a many-splendored thing in my lifetime and my belly is yet again starting to prove that, hence my plan to start making friends with the 24th Street Stairs. Despite my gastronomic adventures, I have tasted no barbecue sauce nor dip as spectacular as Jimmy’s dip. I am certain pairing Speedy’s sliced pork with Jimmy’s dip would bring about world peace.

As far as judging the best out of those two, I have to call it a draw because of what I just said. I think the only solution is to go to the city’s barbecue festival and sample all 19 restaurants and pick the best of the lot. Or just drop in every time I pass it on Interstate 85.

As for our next trip, Now that’s going to be epic. Springfield, Ill., claims to be the birthplace of the corn dog. It’s a 14-hour drive that includes what was described to me as seeing the most depressing parts of West Virginia. Springfield is also about 90 minutes from St. Louis and, if we stop there, I may end up being able to add Interstate 64 to the list of those I have driven in its entirety. I can’t wait to
.

our fifth year

Posted by EXIT265C on June 1, 2009
Posted in: Uncategorized. Tagged: , , . 1 comment

It was a warm, sunny day that June 1. I had come home from work at the Christopher Newport University Office of Admissions and was tooling around on the Internet and eventually arrived at Falyn’s Live Journal, which she had started six months prior. Falyn was friends with some people I knew and, in the time as MySpace was just rising and facebook only meant a physical item in some college, Live Journal was the place to be with some other people I knew as well. I’m not exactly sure what possessed me at that particular moment but it was that day that I decided to join on that blue couch that somehow survives to this day in the fraternity house in which I was staying at the time five years later.

I had joked on more than one occasion that I was a bit like Emily Dickinson from the way that I would constantly write about my life experiences in notebooks, scrap sheets of paper, and loose-leaf paper and wind up stashing them away somewhere or throwing them away. I wasn’t exactly keeping a diary or anything; I just had the urge to write, an urge that has been with me for as far as I can remember.

That June 1, I made a Web log, a “blog.” On June 1, 2004, the Internet was rapidly becoming a new place and my journal wasn’t anything novel nor was it dated. At the time, though, blogging seemed like a passing craze and I figured I would be bored with it before the summer’s end, especially since I eventually racked up about 100 entries in three months or so. A funny thing happened, though: I never stopped writing in exit-265c.livejournal.com — Langley Park, the S p r i n g h o u s e, the viaduct. Instead it has come to this, the preliminary phases of exit265c.com.

The past five years have been a ride. It was the first year at my fraternity house. I was both anticipating and ignoring post college life. I nearly crashed and burned that year but, at the same time, I knew what I wanted to do and had that moment everyone hopes to have in college when he or she thinks this whole “who I am” thing gets figured out. A year later, I was unexpectedly at my mom’s house, commuting to college and the saying goodbye aspect got finalized.

In a way, I’m glad I had that extra semester. There were just too many things that would have been unfinished if I left that May. I wasn’t even prepared for anything when that May 2005 came along. I knew it was time to get serious and get into the real world.

Then I was unemployed for three months.

Talk about getting into the real world.

I had an inglorious time of camping out in my bedroom with booze, hanging out with my friends with booze, seeing my bank account drop to levels from which I am still fixing because I picked one of the lowest-paying (and dying) professions one can get with a college education, and had actually marked a day on my calendar that would mark where I would terminally have no money if I didn’t have a job still and I don’t think I have to tell you what I had planned for that weekend in April. Instead, I left my very first real job at The Progress-Index, headed to my very first on my own apartment in Petersburg, got into my brand-new car and partied at CNU like it’s 1999.

Then the whining began.

I’m surprised some of you continued reading. I hated living so far from Richmond, not really being close enough to anyone to warrant visiting in Richmond, not knowing my way around Richmond, not knowing anyone cool in Petersburg, and slowly hating my job more and more after someone’s arrival. At one point, pretty much every entry essentially said &#8220I hate my job.&#8221 Then, slowly but surely, it got better. I began to learn Richmond more, got some friends there and reestablished some friendships. I fixed my job problem. I ended up living in Richmond after my second unexpected return to my mom’s house, which has led to me sitting here, writing this entry over the course of three days because I tried to join the city’s cycling fanatics and misjudged the height of a ledge at too high of a speed.

So there you have it: I never would have expected the fifth – or any – year to come around with my face swollen, teeth missing, a few cuts and the hope that I won’t be too screwed by my insurance company. But I’m in Richmond, damn it, and I’m having the time of my fucking life despite literally breaking my fall with the left side of my mouth. Whatever. I got though a lot of things and I’ll get through this. Whenever things are at their worst, I take a quote from my grandma to heart: “It’ll take more than that to stop me.” Because it will. And you’ll get to read all about it.

round number

Posted by EXIT265C on June 4, 2008
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I completely missed the fourth anniversary of this journal. It was three days ago. I wasn’t in a position to write an entry on Sunday because I purposely left LSW4 at home.

I actually don’t have anything to say today to mark this occasion except that I picked up an application for grad school at Old Dominion and I have finally settled on a M.A. in professional writing. I’m not looking forward to shelling out $140 for the GRE and I need to see if I can use the g.p.a. in my major instead of my overall g.p.a. for admissions purposes. Maybe I’ll do higher education, student affairs concentration.

If I can take the GRE in the next month, I could possibly hastily get into Virginia Commonwealth University in the mass communication department because the deadline is July 1 for people who don’t need to take the intensive prerequisite course. Oddly enough, I think I’d rather go to VCU. I just have a feeling that I’m going to call central Virginia home for a very long time.

I could also take the MAT for the higher ed master’s but I have no idea how much that cost.

That said, the economic stimulus check would come in handy right about now. (I don’t have mine yet because the guy who prepared my taxes was too lazy to look up the routing number for my bank. I wouldn’t be surprised if I end up going to jail because of that guy. I’m never using him for my taxes again. I should get that stimulus check around my birthday so I could possibly slip in under the wire at VCU.)

I’m glad I have several months to figure this out. I sometimes hate having varied interests.

Other than that, I’ve started writing a collection of very short stories that I’m calling &#8220The Herald.&#8221 It’ll be a companion book of sorts for &#8220Brown River Blues,&#8221 which is 1.5 edits away from going forth to find an agent. It’s weird saying that too. After all these years, I actually got serious about trying to get something out there and I may be close to doing it. I’m finally getting serious about trying to get out of here and I may be close to doing it.

My, these four years have flown by. It’s so strange, considering that my chapter is still in that house and the couch I sat upon to make my very first entry is in the garage. Cecil, the plant I bought a few days after that first entry, was in a tiny, tiny pot then. He almost died He’s now about two feet tall. I wasn’t legally allowed to drink when I started this journal. Now I can’t believe I’m about to turn 25.

Much like how June 1, 2004 marked the beginning of something, June 1, 2008 has as well. It was the day before I settled that I was going to actually do it, I am going to go back to college. I seem to go off and do something huge in even-number years. 2004: I started this journal and began to wrap up college. Two years later, I finally finish that and end up here I end up here. This year, I change my name and get ready to leave the Tri-Cities behind one way or another.

We have six months of this 2008 to go; let’s see what great adventures are yet to come. I think I’m ready for them. No. I know.

Every year, I say one of the two following statements or both. Here they are again:
If you started reading after last June 1, I’m EXIT 265C/Zesty/Shaft/The Lawyer/Elliott. This is the viaduct. Although, technically speaking, we’ve come full circle yet again &#8212 especially this time around because I’m currently setting a record for staying in one place since 2001 &#8212 I’m hoping the road of life isn’t a beltway.
Sit back, relax and vicariously enjoy the randomness that is me.

Three years already

Posted by EXIT265C on June 1, 2007
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Another year has passed.

We embarked on this journey three years ago today. It seems so weird that it’s been three years since I sat on that horrid couch in the first house I ever rented, banging out what was then called Langley Park. It seems so weird to go into what used to be my bedroom and see that it’s on its third full-time tenant since me. I slept in there last weekend whilst Roller was in New York. When I woke up, for a split second, I thought the past three years were a dream.

Here I am now, 90-odd miles away from my fraternity house and three years from the summer of my senior year, sitting on what used to be my sister’s couch in the third building I’ve ever rented.

It’s been a unbelievable trip. I had no idea where I’d be in 2007 or what I’d be doing. I do know this was one of the last places I ever expected to be. I had no real concept of where Hopewell, Petersburg or Colonial Heights were and I didn’t care. Dinwiddie County? Had no idea it existed.

Before my interview, my experience in this area consisted of waking up on the Varina-Enon Bridge, driving on it from Enon and going through Prince George, Brunswick, Surry, Sussex and Nottoway counties. This area was a complete doughnut hole in my mental map of Virginia. It’s almost as if here was being saved for a special occasion.

I still wonder sometimes what that occasion is. Every now and then, I begin to feel that I know why I ended up here.

Regardless of what that is, I’m here. With Lindsay. Living a few miles away from Bill’s parent’s house. Totally did not see that coming. Of course not. During that summer, Bill was gearing up to be a freshman at Christopher Newport University. Lindsay probably wasn’t even that girl with the camera who wanted to do A & E stories for the Captain’s Log yet.

I’m here now, living with the only person I’ll ever consider living with whilst being a coworker (yeah, I’m calling you awesome, Fred), working with one of my college friends and also thinking about the one person whose name alone brings a smile on my face through this tragic week (although you’re awesome Fred, you’re not the one who warms my heart &#8212 sorry). I hope I can follow through. Joe wouldn’t want it any other way.

In comparing Fred’s latest entry to what I just mentioned about my secrets of the heart, I do have to mention that Fred and I are so lame. At least I’m not as far gone as he is. But’s that’s because I suck more than he does.

Anyway, who knows what the next 365 days will bring. For the past four firsts of June, I’ve been in four different cities. For some reason, I have a feeling that Fred and I will be here next year. Doing what, I don’t know. Probably killing more moths with swords.

Yes, Fred killed a moth with a sword today. As the days go by, the more and more it seems like our lives together are building up into some Tarantano movie scene.

Well, loyal readers, I have some work to tend to &#8212 I have a couple articles to write because I’m technically taking the day off to prepare for Joe’s funeral on Saturday. Then I’m going to try to plan out Sunday, which is what I failed to do tonight because of my stupid cell phone having shoddy service near The House 245.

If you started reading after last June 1, I’m EXIT 265C, Zesty, Shaft, The Lawyer, T. DeVon, Tyrone. This is the viaduct. Although, technically speaking, we’ve come full circle yet again, I’m hoping that the road of life isn’t a beltway.

Sit back, relax and vicariously enjoy the randomness that is me.

Two Years (UPDATED/REVISED)

Posted by EXIT265C on June 1, 2006
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A lot has happened in the past two years. It’s been an amazing two years.

It’s hard to imagine that I was sitting in the living room of Hiden Valley Ranch, wondering where I’d end up.
I’m still indecisive as I go into my senior year of college. Do I want to stay in Hampton Roads? Do I want to see the world and never look back to this wonderful, crappy, un-creatively named but oldest inhabited peninsula named The Peninsula? … Things change, people move on … maybe it’s high time for me to make a change too. Either way, I’ll always have Exit 265C.

It’s hard to imagine that I was in that house marveling at the fact that it was our house (well, the rental company’s house … but at least we didn’t have to worry about University Police barging in because students apparently don’t have any constitutional rights whilst on campus).
So, here I am: … in my living room … my living room. It still hasn’t fully sunk in that this is my house. Not my mom’s house, not my grandma’s house but MY HOUSE. … My house. The university making my dorm into a strip mall might have been the best thing that’s happened to me at this crappy school. It’s going to be fun at this house, I’m sure of it. It’ll definitely give me fodder for this blog for months to come.

Who knew that those three little entries on that first day would be packed with so much, I’d be able to quote from them for two years.

Anyway, this is it: I’ve left The Peninsula but I want to go back. I don’t want to go back to The Peninsula exactly but I can’t stay here. I need what made The Peninsula The Peninsula &#8212 the sand, the sea, the traffic, the Barnes & Nobles, the lower per capita murder rate. Unlike CNU, which sucked from day one but eventually grew on me, Petersburg sucked from day one and I’ve resolved to not let it grow on me; there’s nothing of which to be proud in this city. I don’t care how many people from Petersburg this angers: your city sucks. Do something about it.

It still hasn’t fully sunk in that this is my apartment and I am an adult, that everything I’ve mentioned and failed to mention and purposely didn’t mention here are now just memories. This would be a perfect d&#233nouement to this journal: the last two years of my college career, the transition into the adult world. But it can’t. There’s still more road ahead. There may not be a 39TH Street Experience or a College Experience anymore but there’s still Experience out there. And you’re coming with me.

Where will it end up? Will there be an entry 10, 20 years from now from Langley Park, saying that I now own and finished renovating my mother’s house? Will it be from Seattle? A different country? Will it be from Hiden Valley Ranch or the latest incarnation? There’s only one way to find out. I don’t care as long as I never write this sentence (or worse) again: I have $6 in my wallet, $5 in the bank and we still haven’t received the initial power bill.

Anyway, it’s June 1 and that means that I’ve gone back around the loop. I’ve changed, the viaduct’s changed and this June 1 is a different June 1.

Or I could be wrong.

Regardless, it’s time to start back out from the point of origin and continue hoping the road of life isn’t a beltway.

Entry #355: One Year

Posted by EXIT265C on June 1, 2005
Posted in: Uncategorized. Tagged: , . 3 comments

The italics are modified quotes from my first three entries from June 1, 2004.

Well, here I am: blogging for a year. I thought this would never happen and, in a way, I knew that this day would come.

Well, here we are at the beginning of a new year … I don’t exactly know where to start.

I don’t have anything monumental to say except that it was great that I picked a year ago today to start chronicling my life because this was quite possibly the greatest year of my life despite all that has happened. Also, I am pleasantly schnockered (I was about two drinks short of wickedly but, as you all know, I have no money due to a $425 oil bill and a $121 speeding ticket and my mom doesn’t need to know about that … I would like my security deposit by the 10th and I’ll get it from Pete one way or another), today was I-haven’t-seen-in-eight-years John’s birthday (the 31st), Amber-in-Chief got drunk, I had all the funs and I owe Amber-in-Chief dinner and I’m buying a liter of rum for us and I probably need to wash her car with my toothbrush to repay her for the last week.

I missed Britney tonight but it comes on MTV on Thursday at some point and I tasked Ambers with recording the stupid quotes and posting them at some point. For now the quote of the week is something Amber-in-Chief said but I don’t remember for obvious reasons. Oh well.

I can’t believe that I’ve recorded almost everything I deemed important in the last year of my life. Statistically speaking, I posted every day save for 10. Some of those entries were unnecessary (hence my creation of The LANGLEY PARK™ Home for Incongruous Entries … what? You didn’t know that existed? Shows how observant you are) but they all made this all worth the while.

To be honest, I enjoyed this. I can’t believe that I thought the novelty would wear off and I’d never update this. An English major, especially one who loves creative nonfiction and journalism, not writing for fun. Of course that happens all the time.

Well, here’s a year of being exit_265c, Langley Park: my exit, my home. You all have read about my joy, my pain and everything in between for 365 days and I’ve entertained you with my insane ramblings for free. I guess, as a re-reintroduction, all I more or less have to say is, “Sit back, relax and vicariously enjoy the randomness that is me.”

You’d better be grateful.

I wish someone took me up on my bet that this journal would still be here today. It was a $50 bet.

You can still give me $50 for an early graduation present, though. Better still, give me $50 now and call it an early birthday present. After I put gas in the car, with prices the way they are now, I’ll have about $3 to spend on myself.

Maybe it’s time I more than jokingly decide to sell a kidney.

I know full well that I can’t sell my gently used liver. :-P

Everybody’s doing it

Posted by EXIT265C on June 1, 2004
Posted in: Uncategorized. Tagged: , . 1 comment

Well, here I am: blogging. I thought this would never happen and, in a way, I knew that this day would come.

Well, here we are at the beginning … I don’t exactly know where to start. I guess I’ll start with my name here but I’ll save that for the second post (I need to see if I know what I’m doing and this actually posts first).

I guess, as an introduction, all I have is this to say: “sit back, relax and vicariously enjoy the randomness that is me.”