Blog Archives
Dr. Maya Angelou has died
I have a certain way of being in this world, and I shall not, I shall not be moved.
— Maya Angelou (@DrMayaAngelou) April 29, 2014
Donny and I celebrated our second anniversary yesterday (more on that later). During our wedding ceremony on May 27, 2012, a friend read this poem by Dr. Angelou. It has always been one of my favorites.
The sun has come.
The mists have gone.
We see in the distance…
our long way home.
I was always yours to have;
You were always mine.
We have loved each other in and out of time.
When the first stone looked up at the blazing sun
and the first tree struggled up from the forest floor
I had always loved you more.
You freed your braids…
gave your hair to the breeze.
It hummed like a hive of honey bees.
I reached in the mass for the sweet honey comb there….
Mmmm…God, how I loved your hair.
You saw me bludgeoned by circumstance.
Lost, injured, hurt by chance.
I screamed to the heavens…
loudly screamed…
Trying to change our nightmares into dreams…
The sun has come.
The mists have gone.
We see in the distance our long way home.
I was always yours to have
and you were always mine.
We’ve loved each other
in and out
in and out
in and out of time.
I’m that annoying girl with the hot pink Blackberry. And I’m taking your job.
By: Crista Leigh Wunsch
Via Google
I’m positive that I look pretty funny to the causal onlooker—Blackberry in hand, thumbs moving faster than the speed of light, trying to keep my quips and qualms to 140 characters or less. To tell you the truth, sometimes I’m amazed that the friction my thumbs create while feverishly poking the tiny buttons on my Smartphone doesn’t cause my hand to spontaneously combust. You may laugh as I squint at the text from my 4×4 screen, but get this—I am saving my company thousands of dollars a year.
Oh, and I’m taking your job.
You see, I’m the future of public relations. I’m a 20- something who grew up with a computer mouse in hand, while you were trying feebly to change the ribbon on your typewriter. While you talk on the phone with one person, I’ve already told 15 co-workers about the new deadline via text. As you feverishly scribble notes to remember what others say, I’m recording the seminar on my IPod, and I’ll listen to it instantly on the way home using the hook-up in my car. While you’re e-mailing, I’m GoogleDocing. While you’re uploading, I’m Bluetooth transferring. While you’re face-timing, I’m Skyping. Yes, I’m the future.
And the future is now.
Getting Paid to Tweet
Via Google
“We want to bring in someone who knows about social media. You know… that Facebook thing.”
I remember these words so clearly. They were spoken by a woman not much younger than my mother. When I initially arrived at this particular job interview, I saw her an immediatly convinced myself of how intelligent and well- educated she must be. Having worked at a well- known local law firm for many years, the woman presumably knew everything about things I had never heard of, short of my fascination with the movie Legally Blonde.
When she uttered those words, however, and stared seriously into my eyes, I knew that social media was something that her J.D. did not cover. Now, the woman who had probably seen nearly everything in her decades of experience in the legal world needed me– a 23- year old with a B.A. in Journalism– to take the reigns of what might be one of the most important public relations tools since the creation of the press release.
Occupy Albany Eviction
On December 22, my news supervisor at Talk 1300 gave me an interesting assignment: To go to Academy Park and report live from the site of the impending Occupy Albany eviction.
This post will serve as a placeholder for on-going updates on this story.
I have plenty of photos and video that will be added to this post over the weekend. Stay tuned!
Occupy moves to the other side of the street
When I walked up to the site of the Occupy Albany encampment, I quickly noticed that many of the protesters had begun moving their belongings to the sidewalk across the street from Academy Park. After a few moments, many of them began setting up their signs and sitting in chairs, seemingly wishing to continue their message from the public portion of the street.
The Girl Behind the Mic 