Breakfast

I don't usually care for toast, but a bottle of Ikea's lingonberry jam stared right at me from the top shelf in the fridge when I opened it to get the milk for my tea.

We're out of bagels, so white bread (blech) was the only other option. I toasted the bread and slathered on the jam. I usually don't turn the light on in the kitchen in the morning and since all the blinds were closed, it was darkish and gray. But out came the jam and suddenly it was like one of those photographs where everything is black and white save one bright red object, usually a rose or flower of some sort.

"That's why red is my favorite color," I thought to myself, yet again. (I've never had a favorite anything, but sometime last semester I decided on red. Since then, I've been a little more proud of myself than I should be for doing so).

I slid the knife over all corners of the bread, smearing it onto the surface the way a paint brush glides over canvas. Some spots got only one swish of color, but the middle of the bread was saturated. I sat down at my desk, and in the light from my window, the jam went from the red to a brilliant red-pink. I bit in and realized how important looks really can be. The jam isn't very sweet and has a fleeting bitter aftertaste that I'm not too fond of. The plain chewiness of white bread adds nothing. Still, I'm in awe of just how striking something as mundane as spreading jam can be early in the morning.

Published

Not surprisingly, the semester has sucked me away from posting, which isn't good for an aspiring journalist.

Speaking of which, I was finally published today! No, it isn't my first time being published, but this is the first article I've written that is likely to reach more than five people.

The profile I wrote was a Web exclusive for the magazine where I'm interning this semester. I mass e-mailed my family/former teachers and colleagues with the link (friends will get the link off Facebook) and have since gotten some replies, including this message from the subject of the profile.

"Thanks. You were kind. Best of luck."

My editor was impressed with my initial draft and made only a few minor changes. I too am impressed with myself, namely the fact that I got this assignment on Thursday and turned it around by today. The best part is that I now longer fear the reporting process, in fact I relish being on the phone and having an excuse to ask people almost anything. And I don't even know where to begin explaining the joy I get out of taking what people tell me and assembling it into a coherent, creative and meaningful narrative.

I have so much more to say about this semester and my new love affair with reporting, but my eyes are heavy and I'm afraid I feel a sore throat coming on.

to be continued..