daines'n around

swimming -- not just for plastic people

My legs have a soft dull aches. The muscle between my shoulder blades -- who knew I had muscles there? -- the are tense and strained.

I swam last night.

Let's quantify that shall we? I'm not a swimmer. I don't think I've been in water past my hips since I was in Havasupai, in Arizona in 1998. That's ten years.

Ten years since the fateful day I swam too close to Havasu Falls and the vacuum effect of the falls sucked me towards the center and bottom of the blue-green waters. I paddled and freaked out. My head rising and falling above the surface of the water, i sorta of talked of little bit of help.

Hey Brandon, I think I need a hand.

He looked at me as though I was joking. Trained as a lifeguard, he had seen people die from swimming accidents, but didn't see any major signs of struggle from me. Then he noticed my head go up and stay under for a while and come up struggling for breath.

I always credit him for saving my life, though I'm not sure I would have died. Much of it was fearl.

This didn't put me off water. I just knew I wasn't a strong swimmer and never really lived near any large bodies of water. My roommate is the opposite. She can swim two miles and still be ready to swim more. Eight years of water polo can do that to a person I suppose. Give me a bike, a trail, a gym or a mountain. Her? She wants a pool.

So we have a deal to trade off between gym and the community pool. Last night was the first time I've been in a pool since I was in junior high school. See, I wasn't kidding about not swimming much.

It was also the first time I have ever used goggles. What a godsend. Who knew the world could be so safe and not eye-stinging with goggles? Not me. Roommate did mention a few times that I looked really funny in the goggles before she loosened them. The slack didn't do much for my aesthetics.

Most of the 50-minute swim session was spent sharing a lane with a pregnant woman who passed me up quite a few times. She made it look easy. I told her as much.

You make this look easy

Aw. Ha ha. Are you just learning?

Learning not to drown, yes.

Hah. Well, great job. Keep it up. You're doing fine.

Here's where I flash to a friend who used to point out overweight people running walking. He'd make a head motion and say to whomever was with him, 'Aw. Good for them.' He said it in the most sarcastic, curt manner. It was funny, I laughed. I'm not laughing anymore. I'm fatty in the pool who needs to use a kick board for twenty minutes so he can breathe and still get a workout.

I have a graduation certificate in my never-put-together memory book -- the one my mom stopped putting things in when I was five -- showing how great of a swimmer I was. Problem is, I peaked way back in the '80s.

But last night, I got better. I'm getting better. Here's to life by the ocean. Here here.

It's a familiar argument. Altruism versus reality in advertisement supported journalism. Reporters are expected to garner 80,000 clicks a month. That isn't unique users. That is 80,000 clicks on anything with your name on it, be it photo, article or anything else.

Part of me wonders if all of my writing will only be judged by the number of times it is clicked on from here on out. I realize content that generates more interest will receive more clicks. At the same time, that important -- but dry -- city council meeting story may not get anyone reading it.

If journalists are expected to be watchdogs, can we judge our progress by clicks?

Six weeks of clicks has me at about 6,440 clicks. Nothing worth writing home about, but a number for comparison six weeks from now and on in to the future.

My clicks for June 1 - July 10, 2008.

I don't know if you should be my desktop background, my first photo printed in years or simply a postcard I make for someone. Post Secret? No. There's no secret here. Just a huge visual metaphor for my life over the last two years.

Me = Metaphorical cow. Frightened girl = uninterested interpersonal relationships.
Bigger version here.

Dear. Me.

How can anyone survive summers in Arizona? Air conditioning? Nothing seemed to combat the ~110 degree days. Misters were a laugh. Luckily I could grab shade at certain hours near cacti and palm trees while wandering around on foot.

I survived three days. I think I only melted three times. It took a while to gather myself back together after the fact.

Arizona State University has lots of palm trees.

The abandoned mill, on Mill Street in Mesa.

The Lane 2 Fire burns on Friday, June 27, 90 miles outside Phoenix.

Goose butt.

The marina at man-made Saguaro Lake.

Tubers on Salt River. I'm told it is full of debauchery. I didn't see much.

I may have left part of my brain in a puddle near Salt River.

Well, I didn't just win one 2008 Utah Society of Professional Journalists award for front page design. I won two. First, and second place in division B.

The official comment on the first place design was: "Great package on Cheney’s commencement speech—all elements placed in clean, logical fashion—simple yet very effective presentations."

The award-winners are listed here on my web site. Click on the image to see my page design section and see larger versions if you feel so inclined.

Dates: April 27, 2007, and April 12, 2007.

At the end of this week I will have completed four weeks as a reporter. It's a much different lifestyle than I've become accustomed to over the past two years in Utah. It's much more involved. It's much more hands on. Like so much of life, it still involves a lot of waiting.

How about a tour? Sure.

It's official. ID badge to prove it.

My desk, in San Clemente

San Clemente, where my office is, is a ten-minute walk from a gorgeous beach.

Complete with surfers,

waders, bathers and

beautiful clean water.

Our apartment complex is full of kids. It makes me happy to see them playing.

The path to our apartment.

We only have neighbors on 4 of 5 sides. The other side?

The Wasteland. Inhabited by snakes, rabbits and coyotesI

My bedroom, still feels incomplete. I'll have shelves when I get some money.

Meet the roommates. Clockwise from the bottom: Oreo, Ashes and Lilly

One big happy family.

San Clemente Pier. Ten minutes walk from my new office

It has been nearly 4 weeks since I slept in a bed. That will all change soon. I'm signing a year lease on an apartment in Orange County this evening. I'll learn to call one more place home for now.

This continues a tradition. Not since a small town home in Allentown, Penn., have I lived in one home for more than 2 years. It's interesting how, in Utah, this was deemed as something strange.

"What do you mean you don't have a home?"

I have a home, but I learn to be at home quickly. Sometimes vacations are long enough for me to feel at home, like my recent trek to the U.K.

But, Southern California -- it feels like home here.




Update:
I'm a finalist in the Utah Society of Professional Journalists competition. Results are coming at the end of the month.

I cleaned off my desk tonight. The Daily Herald had become a very comfortable place to work. The office was my family in Utah and saved me many times from retreating to the life of a complete hermit. Part of tradition for all departing employees is a card that is passed around the office for an obligatory signing. Keep in mind that a very devout LDS Church member selected this card.

I have a retrospective of the last two years planned, but I'm not sure I'll have time to complete it before I leave for California. For now I'm cleaning the apartment to get my security deposit back and have enough money for the security deposit at the new apartment in Laguna Hills.

There are some things I'm going to miss about Utah.

This is the first time I've had the chance to breathe this week. Has it been hectic? Yes.
Monday I flew from Glasgow Prestwick to London Stanstead after waking up at 4:00 a.m. to catch the bus that was full because of a bank holiday. That night I saw wicked with Hayley. Tuesday I stayed in the posh Hoxton Hotel near the Old Street tube station. Tuesday night I was ever-so-fortunate enough to see BFI's screening of "The Shining" in a cinema right off the Thames River. A midnight walk through Trafalgar Square with warm hands, lesbians, no lion-sitting and a desire to pause time. Wednesday I spent 26 hours traveling, hooray for flying backwards in time. London to LAX. A quick pause in L.A. with my 10:00 p.m. arrival allowed me to spend some time with my dear friends. Back at LAX at 8 a.m. on Thursday morning flying back to SLC to start work at 2. And I've worked every day since.

Never mind all of the walking around cities, riding tube trains and museums I did in between these notable events -- I couldn't stop. I managed to fit about three months worth of memories in to my 17 day vacation. It's so grandiose in my mind, it's almost disappointing to relive it through my pictures. I've promised to put up some galleries, and I will.

London drips with culture. It oozes metropolitan. It pollutes your lungs and captures your soul. I could live in London ... if only I could do it legally. At first I thought it was just jet lag that made my heart yearn for the U.K.

I'm not so sure of that anymore.

Oh, and while on vacation I accepted a job offer as a reporter working for the Orange County Register. I'll be out of Utah by the end of the month.

If i have time to blog in Europe it will likely be short updates, expect a large update with many photographs when I return. I've loaded the iPod up with Belle & Sebastian, Elliott Smith, Bonnie "Prince" Billy and Aloha. Oh, and a few episodes of South Park as well.

I'll have e-mail every few days if you want to get in to contact.

E-mail me your address if you want a postcard. chris[[[a.t]]]chrisdaines.net