Hey, you. Yeah - the moron in the white Sunfire that just cut me off on Algoma. You realize your wiper fluid lever doubles as a turn signal indicator, right? Turn signal, blinker, flasher - whatever you want to call them, people are calling them anything less and less these days because of lazy drivers haphazardly peppering them into their vehicular operational routines.
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I have never simultaneously hated and loved one place as much as the Advance-Titan office. The late nights, constant stress and headaches from long stares at computer screens are enough to make me want to give up being a journalist. However, upon leaving, I'll walk out knowing there's nothing else I'd rather be.
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When I was younger I wasn't sure what I wanted to be when I grew up. For various reasons, my hopes of becoming a football player, professional wrestler or firetruck were all shot down for one reason or another, and I was still unsure of what I wanted to pursue for a career.
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Deciding to add journalism as a second major was the best decision I ever made at UW-Oshkosh. After some hefty arguments with Andrew Munger about some articles, I found myself applying for a job at the Advance-Titan. And I'm glad that I spent the last three semesters in the ominous basement of Reeve.
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Well, four years have come to a quick end; it definitely doesn' feel like that long. My time at UW-Oshkosh has been a memorable one, and I can thank the Advance-Titan for filling some of those memories. I would never have the confidence and experience I have with writing and reporting had I not gotten up the courage to walk down to the dungeon-like A-T offices in the basement of Reeve and ask for a job as a reporter in TitanStyle.
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