Wedding, Wedding, Wedding.. Work, Work, Work

Living and planning a wedding on a journalists budget. AKA not as much fun as it could be!

Obviously.. I'm on a budget. I'm not going to have the $50,000 wedding and I'm okay with that. It's not nearly what we want anyway.

The hardest part has been venue. Florida, Georgia, Tennessee, Alabama?? All of them have had such a big impact on our lives. Florida is our "home." Georgia was our first home away from home. Tennessee is where we finally were able to live and let live! And Alabama is where we got engaged. A lot of decisions. Tennessee would be nice because it's kind of in the middle of all my family. But, ultimately-- we went back to our roots.

I've known pretty much my whole life I didn't want a beach wedding. I love love love the beach and we'll probably spend 90% of our honeymoon at the beach. But, I don't know. Something about it.

So, here we are. Trying to decide some magical place that's not the beach. Clubhouse!! No way. I'm not a "fancy schmancy" type of girl. And.. I just don't see myself forking over that kind of money.

So-- now what? I finally found the most perfectly imperfect venue.

What do you think??

My heart breaks

<Don't ask why this never posted... Sorry it's so late>

Boston. Ricin letters. West Texas.

All terrible incidents that I've covered this week.

I spoke to a group of college students weeks ago and I was asked a very good question. "How do you remove yourself from stories?"

This one stumped me. All through college I was told you can't be involved, you can't be emotional.

I've realized over the past 3 years in this business, that life is sad. Covering tragedies doesn't get any easier. I'll never forget the first time a story really got to me. April 27, 2011. Most of you who follow my blog will never forget this day. That whole day I was in work mode. Get the official sound, get the "real person" sound and rush back and edit. Problem was, I was in Catoosa County, GA and officials wouldn't let the media in the city to get the "real sound." So, it was a bunch of waiting around. We couldn't see much of anything from the Sheriff's office where we were staged. But, hours and hours later (if not the next day) we were allowed in. That was definitely something I was not prepared for.

So, I was in work mode for hours upon hours. I remember getting home, looking at my pictures, and just crying. Mother Nature is crazy.

So, on Monday-- the day of the Boston Bombings. I'm sitting at home, glued to CNN. I just start crying.

Needless to say-- I think there's a time and a place to put yourself in the situation. Is it ok to break down and sob on live TV? Probably not. Is it okay to get emotional with a mom who just lost her child? Sure.

I feel like people think journalists have no emotion. Please. I'm a real person and I put my pants on just like anyone else. (Shocking.. I know)