The worst part about my job isn't the stress. It isn't the chaos. It's not even being held responsible for everything.

No, the worst part about my job is making friends and then having to say goodbye to them.

After I got off work one day last week, I went over to Chris' apartment to spend some quality time.

I found him lounging in his recliner listening to the radio.

That's when "Crazy Girl" by the Eli Young Band started playing.

He said, this is our song. It reminds me of you.

We danced in the living room, and he whispered in my ear "I love you like crazy, girl."

Quite possibly the most romantic thing we've ever done.

I miss my best friends.

While it's weird to say we're all grown up (although I guess we are), we have all gone in different directions since school. We're all far away from each other, far enough away that a one-day reunion is out of the question... but I definitely wouldn't mind a week-long trip to Hawaii.

We spent nearly every day together for four years, sometimes doing nothing at all but silence was never awkward between us. I think the hardest adjustment to adult life I've faced is the fact that I can't just walk down the hall or across the street and just hang out with one of my best friends, and I'll admit that it's an ongoing battle.

We have so many memories, so many inside jokes, and anytime we do manage to get back together it's like we were never apart.

I can still remember the first college party I went to with two of my three best friends. We didn't even make it into the party because we got locked out of the car, so all the guys we'd just met left the party and tried to break into our car. We never told any of them that the car had an anti-theft device that didn't let you unlock it from the outside without a key...

There were all those spontaneous, secret road trips to south Florida. I especially remember the one where that gas station bathroom attacked me. And speaking of bathrooms, how 'bout the one in Burger King that all the toilets flushed when I opened the door... followed closely by an arm spasm that scared everyone in the restaurant.

Remember that trip to Olive Garden? The one where the knife got thrown and hit that lady's chair? And then the same lady was in the bathroom when the paper towels got thrown? Oh, arm spasms. I miss them.

There was the time we watched the Ring 2, you know the one with all the random deer... and then while we were driving in the middle of town one jumped in front of my car and just stopped.

I know everyone remembers the three-month old hunch punch incident. He never should have mixed it with that vodka... somersaults, on the House of Many floor. And if my memory serves me correctly, that was the 'magically delicious' night as well.

I know everybody says they have the best friends in the world, but I really do. The bond that we share was forged on a night, weekend really, from Hell. Since then we've gone through break-ups and blow ups, but we've always had each others' backs... even when we weren't speaking to each others' faces.

I love you guys, and I still fully intend to buy a giant RV (when we're old and retired) and tour the country one day. And when we can't do that anymore, we'll be the old ladies in the nursing homes having rolling chair races in the hallway. After all, we've already done it... I've got pictures to prove it.

I am so sick of hearing about Casey Anthony. The trial is over and she's been released into a life of obscurity and possible danger - get over it already.

The whole ordeal has been like a soap opera from the very beginning, what with people risking death by trampling just to get a seat inside the courtroom. Don't forget the fight outside the doors that led to the implementation of strict seating rules.

And what about the guy who was arrested for giving the middle finger to the defense attorney? Did he think no one would see him? I mean, c'mon! The place was crawling with cameras.

Then there's been the animosity shown towards members of the jury. One restaurant in the Florida panhandle is refusing to serve them, which is in my opinion ridiculous.

As someone who (albeit unwillingly) followed the case, I can't say that I'm angry with the jury. The prosecution did not present them with an air-tight case. A person can not be proven guilty if there's any type of reasonable doubt, and there was plenty of reasonable doubt in this case.
 

So if people are going to be angry with anyone, it should be with the prosecution. They spent more than 2 years preparing the case.

Do I believe Casey Anthony is guilty? I do, but I'm not willing to stake my life on the fact that she premeditatively murdered her daughter.
 

Here's what I think. I think people need to stop focusing on this woman and start focusing on some of the million or so other children in this country who are being abused and neglected every day. If we put half as much effort into helping them as we've put into this one case, maybe we'd save some of them.

So let Casey Anthony go into hiding and finish out her life with the knowledge that she did her child the greatest injustice of all. She has to live with it. She can't outrun it. Her life will never be the same.

Apparently part of my job description is psychic ability.

Obviously I do not possess this trait, otherwise I would have foreseen the disaster that was today.

For the second time in about a month, I have been humiliated in front of my coworkers, accused of falling down on my job and blamed for situations far out of the reach of my control.

All of that - yelled at me in front of my coworkers.

Never mind that this story that was missed came over the scanner while I was on my dinner break and three other people were in the newsroom. Never mind that five people, not including myself, got a text from the police department about the story and didn't bother to call the newsroom. No, despite all of that, it was still my fault.

The urge to forfeit my job has never been greater than it was today.

But I refuse to go out that way.

Nearly two years ago I accepted a temporary job working as the overnight producer for a local television station. I'd be lying if I said I expected to turn that temporary position into a career, but since then I've signed a contract and morphed into a pretty decent producer, if I do say so myself.

Here lately, though, I've found myself wondering if my decision was the right one.

I enjoy what I do, but there are more days than I'd like to count where I find myself thinking, "I don't like my job today."

There are several reasons behind that thought. A lot of it has to do with the stress level of the station's day to day. Most days I feel pulled in about 10 different directions. I always manage to get everything pulled off for a good (or mostly good) show, but the mental stress is a lot to bear.

There are days when I hate my job.

And then there are days when everything just seems to fall into place and run so smoothly... but those days seem to be fewer and farther between as of late.

Dream - (n.) a cherished hope; ambition; aspiration

Dreams. We all have them. They're in essence the people we want to be one day. We spend our lives chasing those dreams, but how many of us actually achieve them?

We shoot for the sky and then get discouraged when we realize just how high the sky is.

So does that mean we should set goals that aren't quite so lofty? Absolutely not. We just need to work on our resolve to achieve those dreams.

Those things that are worth achieving don't always come easily, and often the path leading to our goals isn't straight. But we appreciate the things we earn moreso than those things just given to us.

We're all living our own Cinderella story, but we don't have the luxury of a fairy godmother to make all our dreams come true. We are our own fairy godmothers. It's up to us to make our dreams come true.

Since I still have little, if anything, of substance to say... I thought some of you would be interested in what I did while I wasn't updating my blog.

I had to work the 4th of July, which meant I didn't get to go to a fireworks show for the first time I can remember. It wasn't all a loss though. I found sparklers in my desk drawer, so my anchor, sports guy and I went up to the roof and had our own celebration, and while we were up there we could see about 3 different sets of fireworks going off around the city.

My work holiday was Tuesday, and since I didn't have to be at work until 5 p.m. Wednesday (because I have to be at work Saturday morning at 6:30) I made a one-night trip to the lake to camp with my mom. We spent the day lounging by the water or floating close to shore and reading. Because I had nearly two full days of sun I now have a not-quite-white but definitely-not-tan bit of color.

Also, I've been thinking about changing the name of my blog, so stay tuned for that possibility.

I don't have much of anything to say lately, at least not anything that has substance. What I'd really like to talk about is something I can't broadcast right now because of its sensitive nature, but rest assured once things are more concrete in that area you'll know about it.

In the meantime, enjoy these pictures of things I've been doing.

Our romantic trip to Botanical Gardens.

El noche del salsa con mis amigas

 Our putt putt date night.

 I lost.