I need a drink

I have never taken a journalism class. The only instruction on writing I have ever received, outside English 101, was a fiction-writing course. With this background in making up stories, it is ironic that I ended up becoming a news writer and the editor in chief of The Daily.

The past two quarters that I have led the newspaper have been a manic-depressive time in my life. Passing newspaper racks each morning on the way to class, I would see my mistakes printed on the front page. Factual errors and poor editing seemed to glare out at me as if marked with a red pen. Despite these successive blows to my ego, putting out a paper was also the best part of each day. I still have a quixotic vision of journalism and believe our job is the highest form of community service. So each night I would go home, self-esteem restored.

Now, on the last day of my term, I sit at my desk in search of the inspiration to write. The office's orange walls seem to have enveloped my life, with their graffiti quotes offering me guidance whenever I was lost. The words are a record of The Daily's history and the staff's coming of age -- our wisdom and stupidity written side by side. My sole contribution is something I told a Seattle Times reporter who wanted me to provide him with a random student as a source for a story. I stated very matter-of-factly, "We don't have friends outside The Daily."

Fortunately, I do have friends inside The Daily, and I could not have done my job without them. As editor in chief, I was a Leviathan of reporters, designers, copy editors and photographers. I owe many people many drinks, and this serves as a record of that debt.

Winter quarter was only possible with the constant work of four people, who Alex affectionately "dubbed Dylan's Angels."

Kathleen Belew was a better news editor than I ever was. If I should return to writing, I will gladly submit to every change she makes, knowing that each will improve my article.

Heather Cope has put up with me the longest. She is a rare writer who is talented in news and opinion, a place I shall never tread. You are the shizzle.

Kristin Henderson's designs were the face of The Daily, and the paper has never looked better than under her watchful eye. There will never be enough fonts to allow her skills to be fully manifest.

Monika Jones was the inspiration behind every story in the features section, and the creative mind behind headshots.

Outside of these four is a legion of others who are due credit.

Brian Stryker has always been able to capture my stories in a single compelling photo. We make a great team and I hope to share the front page with you again soon.

Matthew Chernicoff proved to me that a sports story could be about more than simply a win, loss or tie.

Nathan Fowler was able to lighten the mood of one of my hardest times by celebrating Wog Day with me, and inspire me with his dedication to his fiction.

Mark Santschi has written the best stories ever to appear in the paper. Damn you for setting the bar so high (and sorry for the cliche in the compliment).

Alex Sundby has put up with my high standards and sarcasm more than anyone else this spring. I hope you use both when you are ed chief one day.

Randy Trick, who was my first editor, saved the front page dozens of times with his news reporting. I hope to return the favor this fall when he takes power.

Norm Arkans was my ultimate source, no matter what article I was writing.

Adam Karlin has been my closest friend throughout my time here. I hope we can share a byline one day and more port.

And finally, Oren Campbell first introduced me to The Daily, braving the aftershocks of the Nisqually earthquake to visit me while I was still writing for a community-college paper.

I have left many people out, but their omission is due to lack of space in a tight paper, not lack of value.

When I depart this office at the end of the night (and finish eating a 12- egg omelet), I am not sure where I will go. Perhaps I will begin writing fiction again or become a photographer. But whatever I do in the future, my hands are permanently stained with newsprint, and I am better for it.