I only just started working this new job, and already at warrants keeping some kind of

online journal. The internet up here isn't so great, but now and again, when I stand

in just the right spot, I'm able to get a signal. It probably sounds ridiculous that I'd

have so much trouble, considering that I work at a broadcast station where you would imagine

it's downright necessary to have contact with the outside world. Well, in these last

three weeks I've been here, I feel more out of contact than ever. Let me be frank with

you all. It's pretty lonely and boring up here sometimes, and other times it's absolutely

fucking bonkers. But during those days when it's dull and painfully slow, I think I need

some kind of outlet to talk and tell my stories. That's why I've chosen this outlet so that

I can tell you all what it's like up here. Right now, I'm sitting next to the wall by

the bathroom. The only spot I can get a tiny bit of Wi-Fi today. My butt is cold, my

back is sore, but it's better than not having any internet connection at all. My name

is Evelyn. It's an old lady name, I know. I'm 24 and I have a degree in journalism,

but the best I could do with it right now was supply for a radio DJ position. Three weeks

ago I started working at a broadcast station that sits 50 feet above the ground. It's

on a hill between an old rural town and a long, especially inhabited woodland. It's

a surreal, lonely and sometimes matting place to be. If you live here, which I'm almost sure

none of you do, I'm probably the only station you can listen to. The town is nestled between

green covered mountains, but the signal reaches far enough for travelers to hear sometimes.

If you pass through a very long stretch of road next to the woods, maybe take a piss

by the trees after passing the rest stop that's been without plumbing for 10 years, maybe

you've heard my voice or listen to a couple of songs. There's nothing else for miles

...