I don't write anything here that I wouldn't want sources, article subjects or co-workers/bosses to see, so that occasionally keeps me from posting some things. I will, however, get a few thoughts off my mind.
Like most people in America, I have a job. Sometimes it's harder than other times. Sometimes I have to ask questions and do some things that aren't easy. I know that some things upset people, even when I try to make it easier on them. So then, when they turn around and blame me, it's not pleasant. It's hard to take the blame for something factual -- something that is not in my control.
On a similar note, I'm a person with feelings. I learned a long time ago that people take their frustration out on the nearest potential target. When suspects' family memers call me nasty names under their breath, I understand they have nobody else to blame. When they insist I got something wrong, I listen and try to fix it (even when we go around in circles and they can't tell me what, if anything, was wrong). When they make veiled threats, I don't back down while letting them know I'm not out to get them.
But, as I started to say earlier, I have feelings. Occasionally I come across something that invokes emotions and goes beyond my ability to say, "Yes, I just saw a nasty car wreck; yes, I'm fine." Take, for instance, a really good story that just happened to hit me on a deeper level. Combine that with a variety of the things mentioned in the previous paragraph, and you get a relatively normal, average person who just happens to have a job that sometimes throws curve balls at her.
So, what's my point? I guess I'm venting a bit. And I'm also attempting to remind people that I, like virtually every other person in the world, have feelings. Give us reporters some slack; we're doing our jobs and trying not to get emotionally involved.
1. The phone rang, and a cheery voice on the other end informed me that he was calling about the Sacramento Bee. He decided to take the conversational approach by asking me about my New Year's and whether I made any resolutions.
I replied: "To come up with more creative responses to telemarketers."
He laughed, so I think I won that one.
2. The next day, the caller wasn't as friendly. He went straight to the point by informing me that he was calling from Sprint and that my number had been "preselected" for some sort of special offer.
"Wait a minute," I said. "Do you mean preselected, or targeted?"
He laughed and said, "No, ma'am, preselected."
I'd made him laugh so that meant I was in control, but I continued: "Are you sure it wasn't targeted?"
And then he hung up. I definitely won that round.
The key word around here (as in, all of Northern California) is "water." Lots of it. "Flooding" is also a good word. For instance, here's a view of where I lived for a while in Sacramento. Some 40 first-floor residences (of which I was one) had more than a foot of water.
On Friday, a photographer and I got some oh-so-snazzy boots for $12.97 at Wal-Mart, then headed out to the San Joaquin Delta to look at flooding. We found a lot of interesting people and, naturally, a lot of water. The boots came in handy when I finally went home and waded through my back yard.
"Water" became a more personal theme for me when I awoke Saturday morning to a dripping sound. After eliminating my cats as suspects (both were buried under blankets), I soon found that my couch was wet, and that's why my ceiling has been looking strangely. My slumlandlady got an early wake-up call, so we'll see if it gets fixed. I then waded out to the Laundromat to do massive amounts of laundry I'd put off, and returned home shortly before my toilet decided to suddenly overflow without warning. Fortunately I caught it right away, and now it's back to its normal "run 24/7" self. As a bonus, my bathroom floor is clean.
Emotions
I don't write anything here that I wouldn't want sources, article subjects or co-workers/bosses to see, so that occasionally keeps me from posting some things. I will, however, get a few thoughts off my mind.Like most people in America, I have a job. Sometimes it's harder than other times. Sometimes I have to ask questions and do some things that aren't easy. I know that some things upset people, even when I try to make it easier on them. So then, when they turn around and blame me, it's not pleasant. It's hard to take the blame for something factual -- something that is not in my control.
On a similar note, I'm a person with feelings. I learned a long time ago that people take their frustration out on the nearest potential target. When suspects' family memers call me nasty names under their breath, I understand they have nobody else to blame. When they insist I got something wrong, I listen and try to fix it (even when we go around in circles and they can't tell me what, if anything, was wrong). When they make veiled threats, I don't back down while letting them know I'm not out to get them.
But, as I started to say earlier, I have feelings. Occasionally I come across something that invokes emotions and goes beyond my ability to say, "Yes, I just saw a nasty car wreck; yes, I'm fine." Take, for instance, a really good story that just happened to hit me on a deeper level. Combine that with a variety of the things mentioned in the previous paragraph, and you get a relatively normal, average person who just happens to have a job that sometimes throws curve balls at her.
So, what's my point? I guess I'm venting a bit. And I'm also attempting to remind people that I, like virtually every other person in the world, have feelings. Give us reporters some slack; we're doing our jobs and trying not to get emotionally involved.
Posted by Layla at 11:00 PM, January 24, 2006. Comments (0)