Short but sweet for certain

Separation is a strange thing.

Sometimes parting is premature. Sometimes it's only for a little while. And sometimes it's time for things to be over.

I've had to part with many things in my few 21 years: childhood pals, my Tabeo, family and friends who have passed, Hot Wheels and Cabbage Patch Kids, my soccer uniform, and now ... The Cavalier Daily.

I didn't think I wanted to have the job I've had for the past year. I didn't want to "waste" my time. I didn't want to be removed from my friends and family. I didn't want to work so hard.

I also didn't want to leave. Working for Arts & Entertainment was fun, but it wasn't enough. So I ran for Managing Editor. And, strangely, the staff trusted me enough to elect me to do the job.

It's a very hard job. Helping run this paper is a very hard job. I was in the office Sunday-Thursday, sometimes 12 hours at a time, sometimes more. I lost so much sleep. My grades took a dive. But The Cavalier Daily was doing well. We were tackling issues like the assault on Sandy Kory and the debates on admissions policies, whether they were affirmative action or applicant tracking. Sometimes The CD was praised for the work it did. Sometimes its staff was alleged to be apparent thieves. But I was - and I remain to be - proud of the work done by the staff of this paper.

And other people were proud of us, too. On Halloween weekend, the Managing Board hopped in a rented minivan and drove down to Atlanta to see if our staff was going to win the National Newspaper Pacemaker Award. The fearless Sonia Karim directed the van past countless Waffle Houses, strange gas counter clerks with dreams of killing, and even a hemorrhoid-ridden peach water tower. We pulled into Atlanta in the wee hours of the morning and watched the sun rise over the southern metropolis. We went to the Varsity, where my Dad ate many a hot dog growing up; we mooned the city from our rooms on the 55th and 61st floors of our hotel; we dined in a revolving sky-top restaurant. And on Saturday, Oct. 30, we went to the awards assembly with the rest of the collegiate journalists in the building. We were nervous. Mike and Masha held hands. Sonia kept snapping photos. Dan declared that the award would be ours.

And finally, the Pacemaker came back to The Cavalier Daily.

We all jumped up and hollered. We hugged. We high-fived. We were total dorks. And we were proud of it. We couldn't wait to get back to the basement and share the honor with the people who made it happen.

Our reception on Sunday was nothing less than extraordinary. Everyone in the office that day seemed genuinely proud of their achievement, as they deserved to be.

That was a great weekend. I was finally certain that I had done the right thing by throwing my life into The Cavalier Daily. I checked my voicemail later that night. My Dad had called. My friend Mark Brzozowski, a second year whom I'd known since high school, was not doing well. His cancer was winning. So after the nine-hour trip back from Atlanta and the special CD celebration, with Election Day on the horizon and a bevy of other issues looming, but with the support and love of the 110th Managing Board, I sped home to Manassas. I was by Mark's side a little after midnight. He was in a strange state of sleep. I talked to him but he couldn't hear me. He died about six hours later.

Mark had gone back home a little over a week prior to his passing. He loved this school so much; he didn't care if he couldn't go at it with the energy of others on Grounds. He just wanted to go.

And here I am going where he can go no longer, finishing up my final semester as an undergraduate at the University and becoming a certified Cavalier Daily has-been. And I miss him. A lot. But I'm pretty sure that he's keeping watch over me, laughing when I slip up, urging me when I need it.

Life is short, whether we live 19 years or 75. We always want more, more of the beauty God has put in and around us. I'm thankful for realizing that everything is part of something beautiful. I saw this during my time at The Cavalier Daily - at the phenomenal van Gogh exhibit, where it raced through bold, frantic brush strokes in "Wheatfield With Crows." I saw it in extraordinary films like "Life Is Beautiful," "American Beauty" and "Magnolia," where it sang through a small child, a floating plastic bag and falling frogs. I heard it in music from the front row of U2's R.F.K. stop, Lauryn Hill and her "Zion" song, and the eerie posthumous tunes of Jeff Buckley.

And I can find it in Charlottesville traffic, in the arguing heads of University organizations, in the faces of the students who walk these Grounds.

My job this past year was to manage the staff of a newspaper with the Jeffersonian goal of following "truth wherever it may lead." And as I finish, I can't help but think of John Keats and his declaration that "Beauty is truth, truth beauty." He was right.

Now I find myself forced to separate from the magic that is The Cavalier Daily. And I don't want to go. Sure, maybe I'll write a few articles before I walk down the Lawn that last time, but it won't be the same. So as I perform this, the last of my Managing Editor duties, I'd like to thank the myriad of people who made the past year so unforgettable.

To the CD house mom Sharon, thanks not only for making sure my feet were out of bed, but also for all the fun talks, tips and advice. I'll miss you.

Larry J. Sabato, your extraordinary enthusiasm and genuine concern for students is something I won't soon forget.

Irene, my darling in the Pav, thanks for the chats, the Cokes, the smiles.

Katie Lane and D.J. Moore, thanks for being there and doing a great job, especially in the tough times. Katie, thanks for sticking with me this year. And D.J. baby, I loved sharing all of our fun stories over the past several months. Although I may have been your superior, I think we both know who the boss was.

Thanks to the folks in Housing, who in 1996 paired me up in Lefevre 213 with Kristin Clapp, my best friend at the University. Kristin, you are a very special person whose heart and intelligence make me happier to know you every day. You know you've got a great friend when you can imagine her as a bridesmaid, right? I hope you'll don the taffeta for me someday.

Special thanks to Jaime Shlanta, David Cerasale, David Johnson and Pete Bentson for great, lasting friendships. Jaime, you've been a glorious constant in my wacko life, always kind, always honest. Europe, here we come! David James, I'll never forget your November kindness. Wherever you go, I'll hold you close to my heart. My soul mate David Andrew, you are just indescribable, so special, so important. Thanks for always showing me a good time. And Pete honey, I may never know where my port is, but I do know how lucky I am to have you around blowing wind in my sails. You've been such a driving force in my life. Thanks.

I'm grateful for my sister Jenny for caring so much, my brother-in-law David for keeping it real, and my sister Ally for always sticking up for me. Thanks to my sister Molly, who continues to teach me the meaning of strength. You are my best friend, Molly - no matter what pole I'm on.

To the little snooks, my nieces Susan Gilberte Morad and Emma Jean Kane, thanks for letting me smother you with love. I hope by the time y'all learn how to read this we'll be very good friends.

To my Mom and Dad, who may have lied about the "death" of our cat Midnight, but nonetheless deserve so much respect. Anyone with the patience and understanding to deal with me and my three sisters needs a medal of honor. Thanks Mom for insisting I'm not a nutcase and thanks Dad for telling me to be creative. I love y'all very much for giving me such an amazing family and showing me what really matters.

I give my sincere thanks to each and every person on the staff of The Cavalier Daily, who made the past year so special for me. These folks donate their talent and time to produce this paper every day for no pay, no credit and, usually, little or no respect. If you ever meet any of them, tell them thank you. I know I can't say it enough.

And special thanks and congratulations to Tom, Brian, Lindsay, John and Michael. I have so much faith in y'all. This year will go by quicker than you think. Take pictures. Be friends. Have fun. Enjoy the trip.

I have such gratitude for having worked (and played) with Michael Greenwald, Masha Herbst, Daniel Cooper and Sonia Karim, with whom I had the pleasure to serve on the outgoing 110th Managing Board of The Cavalier Daily. Y'all have shown me the meaning of dedication and loyalty, perseverance and friendship. I'm going to miss seeing the four of you every day and putting our minds together to make this thing work.

Sonia, my office partner and prod pal since the days of the A&E box, thanks for listening to all of my moans and gripes throughout this difficult year. You're a very special person with such a kind, open heart and, of course, an eye for what looks good. A fine poet, too. Thanks.

Dan "It's Friggin' Passover" Cooper, it's been my good fortune to work with and befriend a guy like you. You did wonders for this paper. Thanks. And remember, even though Greenwald helped put out the fire with his menu, I'm the one that used her bare hands to stop the flames. Now that's friendship.

And Kristi, you better come up to Manassas and hang out next year. We'll have fun. Thanks for hanging in there.

Masha, it's been great to have a partner for blowing off steam: the drive to Lexington, using the philosophy building, the stars on the hill and general basement fuming. Thanks for being my friend. I look forward to reading your words from whichever country you may find yourself.

And Mike, I will never forget what you did for this paper. Even my English-major vocabulary cannot do you justice; there are no superlatives accurate enough to cover it. It has been my honor to be your friend over the past year. Thanks for the Rock, the confessions and the grooving.

I love you all and I will miss you very much. At least, my MB friends, we'll always have Atlanta.

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