life directions

How'd you end up here? It's a question I never really know how to answer. Is he asking if I walked or drove? Or is it why I came to Eugene? Or why I decided to come to grad school for journalism when my passion is so obviously fiction and celebrity gossip?

The truth is that I choose not to focus too much on how I got where I am. I'm always sorta focused on what I'm gonna do next. I'm a big dreamer. I love to think about future plans. Dreaming about my future job and my eventual turn to coffee shop life (owning one, not just hanging out at one all the time).

I suppose if I wanted to be a shining light of success I would try to figure out my true calling and focus on becoming the very best in my field. But I'm not too concerned about this. I have a sweet enough face that I look like a shining light (Funny, right?) and I have amazing dreams that will lead me in a good direction no matter what.

Que sera, sera. I get it.

Supergirl

I've always wanted to be like supergirl. It's true. I loved that she was a blonde superhero. I could be like her.

Now, at 26, I realize that I'm not able to be a superhero. I can't fly (well, not without a plane) and I can't do a million things at once.

It would be nice to be a superhero. Maybe I'll be more like one when I become a mother. They really have to multi-task.

For now, I'm just trying to live... without getting too overwhelmed.

(NOTE: The picture on the right is of me. It was at least 21 years ago.)

Fall Walk

Walking helps me. I get to breath the fresh Oregon air. And my feet get moving. Some days, I walk to stamp out aggression. Other days, I meander home on foot to tire myself out for an early bedtime. This video is from a day this past week. I walked just to enjoy the fall colors. And I taped my feet as they cut through the crisp leaves.

SPJ Conference Reflection

Today, I went to a conference for the SPJ (Society of Professional Journalists). It was pretty amazing. Here's what I wrote about it for class:

Inspired. That’s how I felt after listening to Jack Hart and Anna Griffin. I was inspired to write again. I wanted to explore the narrative and make every piece I write matter.

Since moving to Eugene this summer, I’ve become busy. I’m busy with work, my internship, and class work. It’s my life. It’s busy. And somehow I’ve become lazy in my writing. I get it done on time, I write the essentials, but my heart hasn’t been in it. I’m not writing the sort of work that I, myself, feel proud of. Instead, I am turning in mediocre versions of Sharece’s writing. Maybe I’m over-thinking my writing too much. It might be okay, but if I’m not satisfied, it’s highly likely that someone else who reads it may feel the same way.

When I sat in room 221 and listened to Hart and Griffin share their tales of finding story, I remembered why I came to the University of Oregon. I want to write. And although I continue to blog in true “Sharece style,” my reporting stories have lacked some of my voice. This is my new initiative. I will write like me again.

During the lunch break, after eating a few pieces of pizza, I approached Hart and his assistant at his table of books. He was eating a piece of pepperoni pizza. When he saw me, he set down the half piece of pizza and began to wipe his hands on his napkin. “You probably don’t want pizza grease on your new book, right?” A strange laugh came out of my mouth. I showed him my nametag for proper spelling of my name. After writing, “To Sharece,” he stopped. “So, Sharece,” he asked, “where are you going with your career?” I was dumbfounded. This is the question I’ve been trying to figure out since starting graduate school on June 22nd of this year. Just where exactly am I headed? The truth is: I’m not sure. I came here knowing that I want to write and edit. I wanted to become a better writer and to learn the skills needed to edit a magazine in Seattle. But since arriving here, I have realized that there is no definite path for me. My life is ever changing, ever evolving. I truly believe that I will do something amazing. I may not win a Pulitzer Prize or another fancy award, but I will do something great. This may be as small as volunteering to help kids learn to read or writing an article that impacts one person. Whatever it is, I think I’ll be okay. And although I’m pretty sure Jack Hart thought I was a bumbling idiot after our small chat at his book table, that short conversation helped me recommit to my writing.

Life...as a party

I had an interesting conversation with my father today. He's a very wise man. He's lived a lot. He's dealt with a lot of different people. I used to think his advice wasn't that good. I figured I was a little smarter than he was since I'd studied at Oxford. (Ha! Funny, right?) But recently, I've realized how smart he really is. He gets me thinking about things. And although he and I don't always agree on politics or the world around us, we can have a good conversation and talk about things that matter.

It'd be nice if in America there was a middle ground like the one my dad and I have found. I wish we could live in an America without political parties. I wish we could all live in harmony without imposing our beliefs on those around us. If only America could be more like Eugene. It's a community that allows people to live the way they want without pointing fingers. Jaywalk as long as you do it responsibly. Loiter in public places as long as you don't make it unsafe for passersby. I like the idea of everyone just being nice.

I once had a friend in high school (his name was Nic) who told me a world without war and violence would be boring. You see, I wanted peace and harmony. But Nic said that wasn't possible. But why not? Wouldn't it be nice to live in a place where people said hello and really meant it? Or maybe it wouldn't. I've been known to create my own drama. Maybe we're not supposed to all get along. I mean, we grow from our difficulties, if life was easy, maybe the world would be dull. Hmm... I guess I don't know the answer.

Christmas time is coming

Christmas is but 64 days away. Sure, Halloween hasn't exactly happened yet, but still. CHRISTMAS! What could be better to think about? It's what's getting me through my tough classes.

What ever happened to writing well?

Annoyed. That's what I am right now. I'm annoyed by the way Twilight author Stephenie Meyer butchers the English language. The first time I read the books, I was engrossed. I couldn't stop reading. I even ignored my family members to keep reading. But today, as I was listening to Twilight on audio, I became irritated. Where did she learn to write? Come on!

Okay, and I know that on occasion, I write poorly as well, but seriously, I'm not making millions of dollars for my mistakes. She does. Gross!

a few tears

Yesterday, I lost it.

I was in the presence of the most magnificant professor in the entire School of Journalism and I started to tear up. He saw the tears and said with his fabulous British accent, "Now Sharece, you've got yourself all worked up." And when I started to really cry (no sound, just water in the eyes) he said, "And now I've gone and made you cry."

Never in my life have I been more mortified. Not only did my delightful professor feel bad for my tears, but he thought it was somehow his fault.

The truth is that I have too much on my plate. There are breaks in my crazy schedule when I come home and COULD be stressing over more homework or assignments, but those are the times when I take a break to maintain my sanity. It is during those times that I relish in the laziness of nothing. I sit. I do art. Anything to keep my mind working while keeping away the stress-induced-zits that seem to be popping up everywhere.

I'm hoping my stress will cool down a bit. My "fun" class on Monday nights is over now, so I guess now I have three extra hours free to work on projects. I'll be okay. That is, as long as I can avoid crying in front of my brilliant British professor again.

I think my hair is under attack!

Today was my day off. I didn't want to do any homework. I wanted to go to the movies, work on my Christmas letters, and do artsy things at home. With this plan from the beginning, I didn't plan on dressing up nice or trying a nice hairdo for my morning at the movies.

When the movie was over, I walked through the mall towards the exit closest to World Market. On my way, I heard a voice, "Excuse me." I thought the young woman had a question about the mall so I stopped for a second. It was a young blond woman with too much makeup and a fake tan. "Do you style your hair? Ever?" Shocked at the saleswoman's stupidity, I laughed, said no, and started walking again.

I guess I could have been really offended, told her to shove it, and walked off in a huff. But truly, I found the situation funny. I'm 26. I was wearing pigtails in my hair. Does she really think I'm going to try out her little products she's selling? Probably not. I mean, it's not as if Tina Fey wants me to guest star on 30 Rock. (For that gig, I just might get a consultation on my appearance.)

I had a good day. I like relaxed Saturdays. And quite frankly, I loved my hair in pigtails. I kinda go for the messy look every once in a while...

Hmm...

Deadlines, deadlines

I'm heading into a career in journalism. Deadlines are going to become a part of my daily life. Right now, I'm fighting against my class deadlines, getting my work finished on time. I'm stressed. I haven't slept my required eight hours in days. And I'm pretty sure I will run out of underwear for lack of upkeep in the laundry department. I think I need a house husband, someone to take care of me while I'm in school.

Any thoughts?

clip

Check out my first "clip" in four years.

Eek! My Life is Running Away from Me!

"Time is more valuable than money.You can get more money but you can't get more time." --Jim Rohn--

Since September 29th, my days have been getting more and more busy. I get stressed out. I'm not quite sure what to do about it. I mean, I brought it all on myself. I purposely signed up for just ONE more class. I'm the one who wanted my internship. It's really MY FAULT. But that's okay. I'll live. I always do.



I miss 1989. Back then my hair fit in cute ponytails. I was shy enough not to say too much. I hadn't gotten any cavities. And the world was still unknown to me.

That was twenty years ago. Today, I'm just the cynical yet fun, strange girl in the flannel pajamas.

FAQ about Ukraine

Note: This was done for a class I had recently. Just wanted to share some of the things I do in my fabulous life as a grad student.

Frequently Asked Questions about Ukraine
By Sharece Bunn, Returned Peace Corps Volunteer, Ukraine

When I tell someone that I spent 27 months as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Ukraine, I usually get asked many questions. Not many people I meet know a lot about Ukraine. Some don’t even know where Ukraine lies on a map. To help clear this up, I have answered a few simple questions about Ukraine. These answers are based solely on my personal experience and readings I may have done while I lived there.

Where is Ukraine? Is it in Europe?
Ukraine is in Eastern Europe. Ukraine is just north of the Black Sea. It borders on Moldova, Romania, Hungary, Slovakia, Poland, Belarus, and Russia. Some people wrongly assume that Ukraine is just a part of Russia. Ukraine gained independence in 1991.

What are Ukrainian people like?
Ukrainian people vary in personality, just like they do any place in the world, but Ukrainians tend to share several traits. In public, Ukrainians often have a stoic, stern expression, scaring visitors. But this reserved public appearance changes the moment you make contact with the person and engage him or her in a conversation. Most Ukrainians are very hospitable. It would not be uncommon to meet a random Ukrainian on the street or at the market, chat for a few moments, and be invited into that person’s home for a meal.

What language do they speak in Ukraine?
Ukraine’s national language is Ukrainian. But most Ukrainians also speak Russian. School children are required to take language courses in both Ukrainian and Russian. Ukrainian is more melodic than Russian. In western Ukraine, the language tends to be a mixture of Polish and Ukrainian. In central Ukraine, people speak Sergic, a combination of Ukrainian and Russian. In Kyiv, which is the capital of Ukraine, Crimea, southern Ukraine, and eastern Ukraine, people speak predominantly Russian. In these regions, speaking Ukrainian may seem nationalistic to the locals, who remain loyal to their Russian neighbors.

What’s the weather like?
Ukraine has four distinct seasons. The winter tends to be extremely cold. The winter of 2005-2006 was reportedly the coldest winter in 30 years which temperatures below 20 degrees Celsius. Spring was moderate. Summers were very warm which led people to swim in the polluted rivers. Fall was gorgeous and tended to have a crisp cool air on mornings when there was no rain.

What do Ukrainians think about Americans?
Depending on their exposure to Americans and American culture, Ukrainians have different views on Americans and life in America. Many young teenagers imagine that American life is similar to that of life on the original Beverly Hills 90210 television show. Thus, many students believe that America is merely Hollywood. I was often asked if I had met Angelina Jolie which to me seemed preposterous.

Although most Ukrainians I met saw America as a rich land full of opportunity, there were also those who were well educated on the politics and economy of America. One such person challenged the true prosperity of America. With such high national debt, he wondered if America should be considered a rich country.

How do people dress? Are they interested in fashion?
An old Beatles song has the words, “Ukrainian girls really knock me out.” Ukrainian woman are traditionally thin and beautiful. As long as girls keep their figures, they can shop for the tight-fitting shirts and rhinestone jeans which dominate the clothing market. Dressing up is essential to going in public. Although it may be appropriate to wear sweats to the neighbor’s house to buy a jug of milk, once Ukrainians hit the main drag of town, shoes ought to be shined and pants and shirt had better be clean.

How does the standard of living in Ukraine compare to that in America?
Ukrainians are on a different scale of living than Americans. A middle-class American family would be a rich family in Ukraine. Although more cars are headed on the road in Ukraine, families would never have two cars.

In 2007, women who worked in shops in small towns in Ukraine made one hundred hryvna a week, a total of 20 dollars. My one bedroom apartment cost me 20 dollars in rent per month. Many older homes and some newly built homes do not have indoor plumbing. If people build their houses in stages, they may have to wait to do plumbing until later and will often make do with relieving themselves on the street while they wait for the house to be complete.

What are some common hobbies? What do they do for fun?
Children in Ukraine like to play soccer. Boys often want to be like Andriy Shevchenko, their star “footballer.” Other common interests include reading, embroidery, and watching TV. Friday and Saturday nights are reserved for Ukrainian parties, when friends gather at the disco to drink vodka and dance.

What kind of work do they do in Ukraine?
Ukraine is called the breadbasket of Europe. Agriculture has always been a dominant trade. Jobs in Ukraine are similar to those in America. There are teachers, lawyers, bank tellers, postal workers, shop keepers, preachers, cooks, retirees, you name it. Ukrainians generally have a very strong work ethic. Various difficulties in the country’s history have made them this way. It’s quite common for people to work past the normal retirement age. In an attempt to lower cost of living in Ukraine, Ukrainians also grow their own food in gardens.

List girl

I am a person of lists. My mom is probably the one who taught me to be this way. She used to write things in a list that she'd already done just to be able to check them off. And I make a lot of lists: shopping lists, goals for the year, homework to do, people to call or write, upcoming concerts, etc.

Here is a random list for your viewing pleasure...

Things to do before 2010 hits:
* Dress up for Halloween
* Finish fall term with fabulous skills (of course)
* Download Christmas with Weezer
* Write my Christmas letter
* Visit Idaho to see Sister
* Buy black boots
* Watch New Moon with friends
* Go to a corn maze
* Finish bookbinding class and then bind books for fun
* Apply for summer internships

Yeah, making lists can actually be a little crazy. Why do I make lists of these things far off (in some cases) when I really don't even know what'll happen tomorrow. Hmph.

Living as a Bunn

Growing up with the name Bunn was such a chore. In grade school, I was afraid that the kids would mix up my name with butt or bum. Whenever I had a new crush, I would try out my name with his name, eager to get rid of the horrid name of Bunn.

In high school, I had an idiot of a biology teacher. He asked me why my parents didn't name me hotdog or hamburger. Seriously, he was an idiot.

In college, I had a friend who never called me by my first name, but always called me, "Bunn." And a friend at Oxford added an "s," dubbing me "Bunns." Somehow, through all that, I started to like my last name.

Today, as I was purchasing something at the Duck Store, I had to spell out my name. "It's Bunn. B-U-N-N, like the coffee maker. The people behind the counter were clueless. Perhaps Bunn coffee makers are over.

One of my favorite Bunn moments in the past week was when my interview partner asked me, "What kind of a name is Bunn?" He was actually trying to ask about my heritage but I answered, "Well, I don't know. It's a weird one, I guess, but it's my name."

Being a Bunn is fun. I don't really mind the jokes I used to fear. This afternoon, a friend actually asked me if when my mom was pregnant with me if they joked about having a Bunn in the oven. I laughed. It IS funny.

I like being a Bunn. My name is fun. Granted, it ties me to some crazy right-wingers, but that's okay. It's just life.

Homework haze

Today was supposed to be my day for homework. I wrote it on my calendar. Since class got over on Thursday, I have been planning to use today to complete all the reading and writing I must do. It's 4:54 PM on my computer. I have yet to begin the required reading for class. Where has my Sunday gone? This is not good.

So, my friends, wish me luck because I am going to pore over my very intense readings in just a few moments.

Brothers & Sisters

In the past 24 hours, I have discovered what I consider to be a great TV show. It's a show about family, politics, and family fighting over politics. I'd heard of it before it started. I'd read about it in People Magazine, but I wasn't living in the US, thus I couldn't start watching the show.

The show is called, Brothers & Sisters. It's a show starring Calista Flockhart, Rob Lowe, and Sally Field. I wanted to watch it because Flockhart was so great in Ally McBeal and I figured her return to television would be great. I was right.

Family dynamics in the show are sensational. They remind me a bit of my own family and the fights, both political and personal, we have between one another.

Sunday night at 10 PM, the drama continues. If I can manage it (homework done and ready for school and work tomorrow), I will most definitely tune in.

Days of Fashion

"Fashon is a form of ugliness so intolerable that we have to alter it every six months."
--Oscar Wilde--

On occasion, I wear something so great that I actually receive compliments for my fashion sense. More often, I find myself complimenting others after which they give me a once over and keep tight-lipped, not giving me a compliment in return.

I'm not a fashion girl. Living a total of 32 months in Europe didn't turn me into a fashionista. If anything, it made my need for comfort 30% more important.

I'm considering starting a best and worst dressed wall for myself somewhere in my apartment. I would take pictures of myself in all interesting outfits and place them on either side. This would at least make me more aware of what I'm wearing.

But this might take a lot of work. Perhaps I will try this in 2010. It could be quite a fun project.

Thoughts of Oregon

I was born in Oregon. And although there have been times that I have moved away from my beloved state, I have continued to come back time after time. Recently, I have heard a lot of people in my JSchool (what we call the U of O's School of Journalism and Communication) classes talk about how unique and almost arrogant Oregon is. I'm not sure how I feel about what they are saying. Yes, Oregon is a fantastic state. It's beautiful. There are tons of things to do here. We have mountains, the ocean, great sports, and interesting and "weird" cities to explore. I enjoy the fact that people are starting to recognize this, but I don't want my state taken over by a people wanting to exploit Oregon for all its greatness. This is what my colleagues were referring to when they speak about Oregon's arrogance. I suppose we like our independence here. We like to be relatively unknown. Although I like that new people move here and fall in love with the Oregon culture, I don't want EVERYONE to know about it. I mean, wouldn't it be horrible if Oregon became completely overpopulated? I sure think it would be terrible.

But on a lighter note, in May, I drove through my birth city. LaGrande, Oregon is a pretty cute city. It's dry. The lack of green is quite disturbing, but other than that it's a pretty great city. And I was born there. Hmm...that might make it one of Oregon's greatest cities!