17 Reasons Why I'm Abandoning a Perfectly Good Blog Post

So there was supposed to be a different post here today. It's written, got a title and everything, I'm just not going to post it. Today is a day of sappy, ridiculous reflections on years past, but to be honest, I'm just not in the mood today. So we're moving on. After work tonight I'm going to go for a run then I plan on doing nothing but watching the Brewers game and draining my cell phone battery from text messages and phone calls to people who make me extremely happy.

In light of this afternoon's mood, here's a list of 17 things I'm excited for/happy about right now (in no specific order):

1. My Amazon orders are going to arrive quicker than originally expected. Score! I'm waiting on this book for class, and this book for fun.
2. Also in that shipment, two large rolls of cork board for a project this weekend. It's going to be epic. 
3. I think Hannah is supposed to call me tonight. Hey lady, if you're reading this, call me! I miss your face.
4. My favorite new website full of snarky twentysomethings. My favorite demographic of people. Ever.
5. My sister is having a very successful first week in France. She may be broke, but hell, it's Europe, she'll get over it.
6. Friday, September 23, approx 9:00 p.m.
7. Say Anything is working on a new album. I expect it to be nothing short of life changing. Get working on that Max, kthnxbye.
8. My dentist appointment on Friday. Totally screwed up, right? Anyone who knows me really well probably thinks I'm lying about this one, but I'm not. My dentist is very charming and quite handsome, and could probably convince me that wooden teeth are all the rage this season. Sign me up. That charm is the only reason I agreed to a root canal. 
9. This song is really old, and terribly cliche-emo, but I still love it. I listened to it about 15 times today. I think my office neighbors hate me. Or think I'm suicidal. Or both. 
10. The Dream Team couple is together in Arizona this weekend. Happy (two days before your) Birthday Bear! Chris, don't melt. I think it's hot there. I hope you packed enough cut off t-shirts. 
11. Speaking of weather, we've gone four days without a natural disaster. And the people rejoiced. 
12. My last few running endeavors I've been clocking between 9:52 and 10:06 per mile. Shut the hell up fast people, this is a big deal for me alright. 
13. I have come to terms with the fact that I have to take a class about HTML. Good news there, a cool new blog redesign coming your way in October. Woohoo!
14. Thursday night is the start of Badger football. I didn't go to Madison, but I'm a Badger at heart. Y'all know we know how to do it right.
15. I really like my tattoo. 
16. This is the greatest clip of a television show that has ever existed. I suggest you watch it.
17. I find 16 to be a very awkward number. So I had to end it here.

Don't let the haters get you down. Happy Wednesday homies.


Homies? Awkward, right? Yeah, thought I'd try it out. (Slaps self on wrist)

My Last First Day of School

It's strange to think about it. This is it. This is my final year of school. That sounds like a very definitive statement, and yes there are a lot of things that could eventually lead me back to academia. But right now, as a mid-range Twentysomething, I'm almost, borderline over educated for the point in my career that I'm at. That doesn't mean I haven't looked beyond this year already. Totally f*cked up, right? I know. But just bear with me here. There is logic to it.

I like school. I'm good at school. It's familiar, there's routines, and deadlines, all things I definitely enjoy. But where would I go from here? MBA? Law school? Neither are incredibly appealing to me right now. Nor is another $50,000+ in student loan debt. So for now, all conversations about future schooling is shelved. If I write about it, yell at me. Seriously. 

So, it's my last first day of school. Sure, I'll have new semesters this spring and summer, but they'll never be fall. They'll never be back to school. Catching up on summer vacations stories, new planners and notebooks, new text books, new topics, new projects. No? Only me who loves all these things? Ok, lets move on.

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Today was particularly interesting though. I think, in the second year of any program, be it high school, undergrad, masters, med school, law school, you get there on day one of year two and think, "did I really look that lost last year?" The answer is yes. The answer is yes every time. No matter how calm, cool, and collected you feel, a freshman/newbie/1L can be spotted from across the room. You'll be the one furiously taking notes about everything the professor says. You'll be the one lingering in a doorway, pretending to check a text message when you're really double checking the room number. It's ok though. We've all done it.

There's a strange sense of elitism, superiority, in that first day back. You know way more than them. Not only about the courses and teachers, but hell, you know where the bathroom is. Something they'll figure out only after thinking they got lost down the hallway of offices then stumble upon it, only to get lost on the way back. 

I think the strangest thing for me right now, is that I'm not older than most of these people. In any professional setting, the vast majority of these people out rank me by several steps. But here, we're equals. One year ago I walked in not knowing a single person, not knowing very much at all about book publishing, and not really even knowing if I'd made the right choice in programs, or even, region of the country. But like all my other milestone posts, it's especially easy to say, for this one, I am far wiser than I was on my first day last year.

As my friends and I stood in the hallway during break, trying to not so secretly snoop through the window of the newest cohort, it was easy to see they were all excited. We envied their enthusiasm. They don't yet know the whirlwind of amazing insanity graduate school and a full-time job is. So to you, new cohort, I say good luck. My advice, don't waste time. Get to know people this semester. It's easier to go through war with buddies by your side.

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And to my cohort, my friends, happy last first day of school. The end is in sight.

Some music for your Monday

I don't watch MTV. Nothing necessarily anything against it, but I just don't watch it. There was that period in high school, when TRL still existed, that I'd tune in and watch a video or two; but it's probably not news to you that they TRL died in 2008 and they don't actually play any music anymore. Now their airwaves are full or guidos and pregnant high schoolers; no thanks, I'll pass. But this isn't new information, and I'm far from a cultural critic, so we'll move on...

Last night was MTV's VMAs (I had to google "VMA" because I couldn't remember what it stood far. "Video Music Awards," duh, but that's how far removed MTV and music videos are in my brain). I didn't watch it on TV, but caught a few of the highlights online today. I think most of the mainstream music industry gets a bad wrap for lip syncing, auto tuning, and people who are a big hot mess, but today I was reminded that there's still hope out there. Here's my favorite performances from last night:

Beyonce's "Love On Top" - in case you missed the news, on yesterday's red carpet she announced that she and Jay Z were having a baby, she's three months pregnant. That is going to be the most musically gifted, beautiful, and wealthy baby that has ever been born. For real.

This performance is amazing. It gets really good around 3:00 min in. She's a really great performer, but more importantly she's got an amazing voice, which you sometimes forget when she's dancing all over the stage in a gold leotard. I think my favorite part of this video, though, is Jay Z's reaction at the end. He's quite the proud papa.

Get More: 2011 VMA, Music, Beyoncé

Adele's "Someone Like You" - I'm not sure this even needs a description. She's amazing. Enjoy.

Get More: 2011 VMA, Music, Adele

Bruno Mars' cover of Amy Winehouse's "Valerie" - at the end of the show they had a lovely tribute to Amy Winehouse, concluding with Bruno's version of her song "Valerie." I'm a big fan of this song to begin with, and I think Bruno did a fantastic job. At first the matching jackets and synchronized bopping to the beats was a little cheesy, but in the end I think it really works with the tone of the song, and they definitely do Amy justice.

Get More: 2011 VMA, Music, Bruno Mars

Happy Monday.

A Fragmented Hurricane Day Narrative

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Wake up, sans alarm, at the same time you usually do. Lay in bed trying to sleep in. Fail. Get up and read the Post.

Text your friend to confirm morning plans. Decide that people are being babies about the weather, and head out to Eastern Market anyways. Drive, just in case they panic and shut down the metro.

Find free street parking on 6th. Silently thank La Crosse for forcing you to be an expert at parellel parking. Arrive at the market, be disappointed when the outdoor vendors, including the crepe guy, aren't there. Happily settle for blueberry buckwheat pancakes inside.

Spend an hour searching through the loose alphabetization of Capitol Hill Books.  Almost tumble down the narrow staircase, taking most of WWII fiction with you. Decide to take the remaining dignity you have and head home.

Sideways rain starts. Open your umbrella, just for show. Spend 10 minutes trying to find a parking spot not under a tree. Deem it pointless, park anywhere.

Hurricane house arrest begins. Start some laundry, aim to finish before possible afternoon power loss.

To fend off bordem, decide to rearrange your bedroom. Hate it. Move it all back. At least everything got dusted in the process.

Start to receive panicked text messages. Have I evacuated? No. Nervously laugh it off. 

Read an entire book. Start another.

Take a break. Open up Facebook. Chuckle at the array of East Coast statuses. Most people are drinking. One person filled their bathtub with water. Not sure if the two are related.

Receive more panicked text messages. Begin to question your own preparedness. Call the most reasonable NoVa resident you know. Talk yourself into a panic. She talks you back down.

Start drinking. Watch it rain.

Turn on the baseball game. Pray to the weather gods to keep the power on through the 9th.

Read more panicked status updates. Winds pick up. Call the one person who will actually joke around with you about it. Tell him you're not a bike messenger taking the lighthouse its deliveries, it's just some rain. Laugh, borderline uncomfortably.

Watch them win the game. Watch it rain some more. Decide you'd rather be in this hurricane than the rice paddy fields from chapter 4.

Rumors of area power loss flicker across twitter. Decide you just want this to all be over. The fun wore off hours ago.

Sleep through the hurricane.

Epilogue: Sunday. Debris, no damage. Business as usual.

A Midwesterner's Guide to East Coast Weather

Subtitle: This shit is getting ridiculous.

The Earth's-a-shakin'
So... in case you've been living under a wi-fi-less rock since Tuesday afternoon, you might have heard about the earthquake that "shook" the East Coast. There have been a few reports of aftershocks, all of which I've slept through.

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I'll be the first one to admit that the earthquake kind of freaked the crap out of me. As it was happening I was thinking, "I have no idea what it would look like if this building collapsed around me." Ya know? I kind of just like to visualize possible life threatening scenarios so I can figure out how to react later. But, still, for that one, I've got nothing. In the end, the building did not crumble beneath us, and the majority of the devastation in the area consisted of spilled lattes and broken bobble-heads.

I have, however, began saving money to purchase and house a small flock of flamingos. (pause for effect) Yes, a small flock of flamingos. Why, you ask? Because a large flock is just unnecessary and too costly for these tough economic times. Oh, you meant why flamingos?  The National Zoo in DC issued a press release the day after the earthquake, listing the observed reactions of some of the animals. Animals being able to predict weather before humans can is not a new phenomenon, and I think it's time we all go on board.

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Here's why flamingos: The monkeys and gorillas all climbed trees and yelled before, during, and after the quake. I can't house monkeys and plant trees. That's just ridiculous. Plus, the yelling is highly unnecessary. The zoo's beavers just dove into the water and swam around for the duration of the quake. A pool would be out of the question. The famous Giant Pandas "did not appear to respond to the quake." What good is a warning-animal if it doesn't even care? So, flamingos. According to the press release, the flamingos "rushed about and grouped themselves together...and remained huddled for the duration of the quake." So the plan is to purchase and train a small flock of flamingos; before any inclement weather or natural disaster, they'll group themselves around me, protect me, and lead me to safety. And I'm also selecting them because they're pink. The zoo's deer reacted in similar fashion, but on a day-to-day basis the flamingos would be more aesthetically pleasing.

Do you think my natural disaster prep has gone a little too far? I say I'm one step behind the women on the upper-east side of Manhattan who fought over that last case of bottled water this morning after Gov. Cuomo declared a State of Emergency in New York. I'm at least not using my handbag as a weapon, yet.

The sky is falling
So, onto the hurricane. Like usual, MSNBC has created an awesome weather graphic to distract us from how horribly destructive this hurricane could be. It was a full five minutes of playing with this website before I realized that the Category 2 hurricane is projected to sweep through the region. So heavy winds and high volumes of rain just ruined all weekend plans I made.

*This just in. The New York Times is reporting that all mass transit will be shut down at noon on Saturday. This includes buses, the subway, and commuter rail lines. People are going to be pissed.

Gawker has assembled a wonderfully snarky post, "How to Prepare for a Hurricane." All solid advice, my favorite being "don't panic" and "throw a party."

That all being said, I'm not an idiot. I've stocked up on the necessary supplies in case something does go horribly wrong. I have an extra (fully charged) cell phone battery, several working flashlights, a case of bottled water, several boxes of the world's greatest food (read: Life cereal), two apples, enough tequila to seriously inebriate a Real World cast, September's Vanity Fair, and a stack of books. All of these items are not necessarily designed to be used together or even in the order listed; but if there's a natural disaster situation that can't be made better by cereal, tequila, and Vanity Fair, I don't want to be a part of it.

What's next?
Well, I'm glad you asked. I'm predicting snow. And lots of it. Why, yes, I think my degree in English proves I have a solid working knowledge of meteorology. 

At least, I'm hoping for snow. Last winter, DC really disappointed me. I think we had a total of six inches over four months; most of that coming in one day (read: four inches of snow in an afternoon basically shutdown the entire DC metro region). So this year I'd like to see what you've got, Mother Nature.

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People here are still terrified form Snowmageddeon 2010, when they got way more snow than they could handle. Yesterday, I foolishly told my coworker that I thought everybody was overreacting; that it wasn't a lot of snow, it's just that DC isn't equipped to handle it. Wrong answer. She totally flipped out, saying stuff like "You weren't here, you couldn't see it. My car was covered in snow. I couldn't get it out!"

She walked into one of the classic blunders, the first being never get involved in a land war in Asia, and second is never challenge a Midwesterner about snow.

Really? You couldn't get your car out? Did you try using a shovel to move the snow off your car? No? Didn't think so. I have successfully navigated both downtown Minneapolis and unmarked rural Minnesota highways in white-out, blizzard conditions; I survived five hours of snowed in, gridlocked freeway traffic with two crying kittens on the seat next to me; and, for the record, my school was the only one in the whole UW system that didn't cancel class when it was too dangerously cold to walk to class. So don't try and tell me about how bad winter can be.

But, what I told her was that I'm sure it was a shock, to see that much snow in the area, but it's not like they got 25 feet of snow. Her response, and I'm not making this up, "Oh that's insane. People can't survive in that amount of snow." Really? Cause I'm pretty sure they can.

So, moral of this story?  Take the proper storm precautions, with a grain of salt.

In the end, I hope that it turns that to be an over-hyped storm and we all canceled our weekend plans for no reason. But in the mean time, I wish you a safe, dry, and hurricane free weekend.

Favorite Time of Day

I think my favorite time of day is that second when you wake up before you look at the clock. I'm not much of a morning person, and I'm rarely up without the aid of several alarms, but on the rare occasion (like today) that my body wakes me up on its own, I enjoy that brief second of peace. Before you know if you're running late or if you're up hours too early. It's that split second you can remember your dreams perfectly, because you're still half in them. It's the only time of day where I don't feel the need to be thinking about anything. And I revel in it.

It's not quite the same on weekends, because then there's the potential for extended periods of lounging in bed, an unlimited supply of fresh coffee, and no real need to get dressed before noon. But that Monday through Friday feeling in the morning, during that split second of half-awake joy, I wouldn't trade it for anything.

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Three Things Thursday - A Series of Small Failures

Yesterday I was in pretty rough shape. Everything was all well and good until around 4:00 pm when I talked to my sister on the phone; she was at the airport on her way to France where she's studying abroad for ten months. TEN MONTHS! That's a really frickin' long time to go without seeing my sister; especially since this summer I had grown accustomed to seeing her everyday. I'm incredibly proud of her and so excited for her because there's no doubt this opportunity will change her life. But that being said, I think I still deserve the right to mope around about it for a little while.

Rather than go home and eat my weight in Oreos, I decided getting a new book and going for a run would be much more productive (and, in the end probably cheaper, cause lets be honest, that many Oreos would be expensive).

This week's Three are realizations I made while out trying to cheer myself up:

1) A half empty bookstore is one of the saddest things I've ever seen. Not a great to start to boosting my mood.

I went to the Borders a few minutes from my apartment because I knew I could probably score some pretty good deals. If you haven't heard, they're closing their doors soon and trying to get rid of all their stock pretty quickly.

I knew I was walking into a liquidation sale, but I didn't expect it to be so pathetic looking. They have no discernible inventory system and nothing is where it's supposed to be. But that wasn't the part that bothered me. It's just that there was shit everywhere. And most of it wasn't books. Most of what they had left were plush blankets, poorly constructed writing journals, and generic e-reader covers. The books were pretty picked over, damaged, or so obscure that they'd probably never find an owner even in the best conditions.

These books were abandoned, being schlepped from table to table by temporary employees who would probably be happier across the street mixing up overpriced lattes. Books are such an inspiration to people, an escape, a distraction from the horrors of real life; but last night at Borders, they seemed to be only further dragging down the already palpable depression in the room.

2) Without my consent, my mood made my book selections. That, and it was just pure dumb luck.

I went in there looking for a couple of specific books (my to-read list is in the "Reads" tab above), but as soon as I arrived and saw the situation I gave up all hope and just browsed around.

Much to my surprise, I found the last remaining copy of Room by Emma Donoghue. Maggie recommended this book to be a while ago, but I've never been able to get it at the library so I decided to go ahead and buy it. (Plus I have $7.52 in fines at the library right now. The book ended up costing me $12, so it seemed like a better investment.) 


I'm only a few pages into it, but it's an incredibly disturbing story so far. The first chapter is narrated by Jack, a five year old boy who is confined to a small room (presumably an attic because it only has a skylight) with his young mother. Jack's lived in Room his whole life (he doesn't use indefinite or definite articles, everything is just Lamp, Bed, Tub, etc.), and is presumably being held captive by a man he refers to as "Old Nick", although his mother has never identified the man's name.

Really f*cked up. Yeah. I think Maggie said she peeled through this book in like two days, so I'm guessing it'll take me about the same. I'll let you know if it gets more or less depressing as it goes on. I'm guessing more. Great mood booster. Although I'm glad I happened to find it among the wreckage.

3) In my sad bookstore haze, I purchased a book I already own. FML.

The only other thing that caught my eye was Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried, a Vietnam era collection of intertwined short stories. It's one of those you're forced to read it in high school but don't really appreciate it at the time sort of books. I saw it on the shelf and thought "oh great, I'd love to reread that." And at $6 I thought it was a pretty good addition to my bookshelf.

This third Thing was going to be a completely different point about the book...then I Google search the cover image.

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This (above) was the most popular search result. Wait a second, that looks super familiar.

This (below) is the version I purchased last night. Deep regret over my non-returnable $6 purchase sets in.

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I'm not 100% certain, and you better believe the first thing I do when I get home is check, but my gut is telling me that I opted to buy that book in college for some class and have since completely forgot that I own it and only retained the knowledge that I do indeed like that book.

So last night's attempt to cheer myself up with a lively trip to the bookstore was an epic failure, so it's a good thing I had such a great run right after that.

My sister should be in France by now, hopefully she caught her train out of Paris and is safely relaxing in her hotel room just north of the Mediterranean coast. B*tch. I mean, I love her and can't wait to hear all about it.

Happy Thursday.

Any epic (yet comical) failures in your life recently?

An open letter to Chicago sports

I stumbled upon this article  yesterday: "Chicago's blues over Brewers, Packers rise"


Click the link. Read the article. Then proceed below to my response (although you might be able to guess what I have to say about it).

Listen here Chicago.

You seriously need to get over yourself. Your sports teams are terrible, your attitude is piss poor, and as far as climate goes, stop making Wisconsin seem like a winterous, barren wasteland. I've been to Chicago in January - not exactly tropical.

You were right about one thing though, we do see you as "jerks from the big city." Up here in lil ole' Milwaukee we were just happy they installed the first stop 'n' go light in town. Aw shucks, were we excited. "Jerks" is the nice, family friendly word that I'll use on the internet in place of what I'd call you to your face.

And as far as the lumberjack shirts go, I have never seen one person in Wisconsin dressed like that. I'd suggest you go check Minnesota.

And ya know what, I'll take the white picket fence insult. Fine. If that's the ridiculous off-topic blow you need to feel better about yourself, I can accept that.

And one final thing - stop acting like you're doing us a favor. We're winning these game while your teams are spiraling out of control. Two separate scenarios. Get over it; stop trying to take credit for our wins and stop trying to blame us for your losses.

End of story.

Sincerely,

a die hard Sconnie sports fan who is not going to take this shit anymore

What I'm Reading: Who's the boss? That girl.

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The first thing I liked about her book, before reading a single word, is that she's basically making a mockery of the traditional memoir. Just take a look at the book jacket; well the cover is one thing, but that combine with the fake marketings blurbs on the back make it genius. There's one from her own father that says "I hope that's not really the cover. That's really going to hurt sales." I have no doubt that it's an actual quote from her father upon seeing the cover image, but putting it on the back of the book is just genius.

The whole book has that very specific Tina Fey tone (which, ya know, makes sense cause she wrote it); that type of sarcasm where she says something, you laugh, you are about to move onto the next thought, then you think, "wait, is she making fun of me." She's funny without needing to rub your face in it.

She splits her time talking about her personal life and her professional life; the whole book is really an intersection of the two, how one influences the other. She starts out talking about her childhood, summer camps, college, her first job, then jumps to SNL and 30 Rock, closing with the present (book was published April 2011). 

The whole book is full of great two-liners (just made that up, but it's funny like a one-liner, just longer);
"...I don't understand Hooters. Why do I need to enjoy chicken wings and boobies at the same time? Yes, they are a natural and beautiful part of the human experience. And so are boobies. But why at the same time?"

I think my favorite chapter is the one about her father, "That's Don Fey." Considering a large portion of the book is about how she's found ways to relate to the men in her unique work environments, overcome the sexism, and eventually produce her own sitcom (a TV status that very few women have achieved with her level of success), seeing how she relates to her father tells me a lot (it's very Freudian, but true). She states it very well at the end of the chapter..."I've noticed that powerful men react to him in a weird way. They 'stand down....' They meet Don Fey and it rearranges something in their brain about me."

I liked how much pride she takes in 30 Rock. She knows that there was a good chance it wouldn't succeed. And she seems to appreciate every season a little more than the previous, like each one is another little gift from the TV gods; she gets to keep her dream job for another season, and she gets to keep 200 other people employed for one more round.

Towards the end she talks about the constant struggle between running her show and being a mother (she has a five year old daughter, and was probably unknowingly pregnant while writing this book, she gave birth to her second daughter on August 10, 2011). She describes the years at 30 Rock as "blorft;" "an adjective I just made up that means 'completely over-whelmed but proceeding as if everything is fine and reacting to the stress with the torpor of a possum.' I have been blorft everyday for the past seven years."

She gives a lot of half-hearted, comedic advice about everything under the sun throughout the various chapters of the book. I don't doubt that she means every word of it, but as far as wisdom goes, here's the real gem she's sharing with the world. "When faced with sexism or ageism or lookism or even really aggressive Buddhism, ask yourself the following question: Is this person in between me and what I want to do? If the answer is no, ignore it and move on. Your energy is better used doing your work and outpacing people that way."

Will do, Tina. Will do.

5.9 Magnitude Earthquake Rattles DC - Twitter to the Rescue

So this is the first time I can truly say that Twitter came in handy. Phone lines were jammed. Text messages weren't coming through. Internet running slow. But Twitter on my phone was still working. Enter: Updates from the world. Check. Making sure friends in the area were ok. Check. Monitoring the status of the region. Check. Participating in the snarky east coast comments about the earthquake. Check.


Twitter went earthquake crazy. Just moments after it happened (approx 1:56 p.m. EST) the rate of earthquake references on Twitter skyrocketed. 

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Within an hour of it happening, the Washington Post had a "Top 17 Earthquake Tweets" story on their website and floating around social media. Assuming there weren't massive casualties or damage, neither of which have been reported yet, I think it's appropriate to share my favorites...

"As you’re probably aware, D.C. was rocked by a 5.9 earthquake: just serious enough that many evacuated buildings, but not serious enough to keep people from cracking jokes about it on Twitter."

@MichaelSLinden: “US Geological Survey’s budget was cut by some $20 million this year. #justsaying”

@ezraklein: “The Ocean’s 13 team is presumably stealing something pretty valuable right now.”

@jdickerson: “Everyone calm down. If this is an earthquake on the east coast we’re supposed to react ironically.”

@balycooley: “I don’t want to die at a freelance job, for god’s sake.”

@samfbiddle: “WAS IT PREMATURE TO DO ALL THAT LOOTING”

@TomFornelli: “WOLF BLITZER IS ON THE PHONE WITH THE EARTHQUAKE.”

@bradplumer: “A nuclear reactor near epicenter of VA earthquake is designed to withstand a 5.9-6.1 quake: bit.ly/nVW1Tq We got 5.8”

So now I understand how Twitter is fueling revolutions in the middle east. They may not have a government, but they've got Twitter. It survives everything. Just like cockroaches. 

Oh, and I'm totally fine by the way. The whole building shook (like doors slamming, walls moving type of shaking) for about 30 seconds, and I didn't really know how to react because I didn't know what was going on. I just froze in my chair. When people started coming out of their offices, the first thing out of my mouth was, "do we seriously get earthquakes in DC?" Cause that was not what I signed on for.

They briefly evacuated the building, but none of the bosses knew what to do, so we just headed back into the building when everyone else on the street did. Everything is back to normal now, but according to one of my best friend's, it's not ok to make puns like "I'm fine, just a little shook up." Too soon? So I'm sorry if you find this post in poor taste, I joke around when I'm uncomfortable.

365 Days on the East Coast

I'm really big on acknowledging anniversaries, milestones and such, because I think it's extremely important to take the time reflect on how far you've come, everything you've accomplished, and even celebrate a little. (I wrote about two other big anniversaries for me here and here.)

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But today, August 23, is a pretty big one as far as I'm concerned. Today marks one year on the East Coast. Just a mere 52 weeks ago, I pulled up to my apartment with a giant moving truck, no job lined up, and (to be honest) only a vague idea of what my graduate program was going to be like. So here I am 365 days later, (as Hannah would say) survivin' and thrivin' at my non-profit job, and just a few days away from embarking on year 2 of my graduate program. While it only took three days to unpack my apartment, it took me much longer than that to settle in to life out here...

Earlier this week, a very good friend of mine asked for some advice on coping with homesickness and managing a long distance relationship. (My first thought was, well, I'm not great at advice, but can I interest you in a sarcastic comment?) 

I began to rattle off some generic advice about managing school, work, and a long distance relationship...I stopped myself mid-sentence. Long distance relationship? What sort of single-girl am I to be giving advice on sustaining a long distance relationship? But wait a second. I am in a long distance relationship. I am in a couple dozen long distance relationships. Between my family and friends, almost of my close relationships are long distance.

But as I really got thinking about being away from home, my first few weeks here, coping with being away, I ended up explaining to her that I wasn't very homesick when I first got here. I had been working for the past 18 months to get out to the East Coast, and when I got here it was such a huge release. All that work, all that worrying, all that pressure had paid off and I was here. I had so much support and help from my friends and family along the way, I felt like I couldn't be sad or mopey or homesick about it at first because then they'd think "oh well great, she's just miserable out there anyways..."

To be honest, the first few weeks out here felt like a big vacation; except I had all of my furniture and clothes and Max. It was probably wasn't until a few weeks after Maggie's wedding (I flew back to Wisconsin three weeks after I moved to be Maid of Honor in her wedding) that I really started to get homesick. I was still without a job and the prospect of waiting until Thanksgiving to see my family and friends again was heartbreaking. With all that free time on my hands, it was hard not to miss the girls and my family. I seemed at a loss because I didn't have the girls to do silly things with - like wonder around Target for things we didn't need, or just lay around and watch TV on a Sunday afternoon. But I coped with the distance through long phone conversations, lots of little text messages, and our running blog.

I think it's always helped that we've never made a big production about not being able to talk to each other for longer periods of time. Our schedules are busy, our lives are very different, but when we do get on the phone with one another it's not like "oh it's been so long since we've talked, there's so much to catch up on..." We just jump right back into conversations like we'd been there just yesterday. You miss a detail here or there, but when it comes down to it, I still feel like I'm as much a part of their lives as I was when we all lived in the same town.

I guess overall, I'd say it's the little things, not the big occasions, that matter the most when you're trying to cope with homesickness. A picture message from one of my best friends trying to decide if she should by a dress sometimes can be more reassuring than a marathon phone conversation. It may seem stupid and meaningless, but it's the fact that despite the distance, we can still find ways to be a part of each other's daily lives. It's obvious that we are going to be in each other's lives for the big occasions, the important moments - but for me, the thing that's held us together is the fact that we still want to be in each other's lives for the little, seemingly meaningless moments too.

The homesickness never really goes away, at least it hasn't yet for me. I still constantly countdown the days until I get to go back to Milwaukee and play with my dogs, do some shopping with the girls, and just hang out in the back yard with my siblings. But overtime, the homesickness will change, you adjust to being away, they'll adjust to you being away. You make friends, you settle into your new routine, things find a way to balance out.

So, if that very long winded form of advice ended up helping my dear friend, I'm very glad. And the same goes for two of my siblings, who are embarking on the journey of their lives this week; tomorrow Carly leaves for 10 months in the south of France, and yesterday was Ryan's first day of his freshman year of college. Both huge changes, and huge challenges, but nothing that they're not fully capable of. I hope they read this blog post, and even if they can't appreciate the advice now, at least they'll be able to reflect back on it someday and know that they weren't alone in how they felt about being away from home for the first time.

But like most other things on this blog, this is really more for future-me to re-read. When I look back on my previous blog posts, it's so reassuring to know that even when it felt like I didn't know what I was doing, I was indeed on the right path; that even when it felt like everything was falling apart, there was a light at the end of the tunnel. I hope that in a year from now, I can look back on this post and still feel as close to my family and friends as I do now; I hope that I feel even more adjusted to my new life out here, and even more reassured that this was the right choice to make.

To all those ambitious folks out there in the world, picking up and moving to accomplish something great, happy travels, stay in touch, and everything will work out just fine.

Hot as Hipster

Maybe it's just DC (and if you live elsewhere and agree, please add your comments below), but it seems that hipster is a buzz word around town right now. I usually hear it describing a type of fashion, but it seems to be more of a lifestyle. Urban Dictionary (credible source, right?) defines hipster as "a subculture of men and women typically in their 20's and 30's that value independent thinking, counter-culture, progressive politics, an appreciation of art and indie-rock, creativity, intelligence, and witty banter. Although "hipsterism" is really a state of mind, it is also often intertwined with distinct fashion sensibilities. Hipsters reject the culturally-ignorant attitudes of mainstream consumers, and are often be seen wearing vintage and thrift store inspired fashions, tight-fitting jeans, old-school sneakers, and sometimes thick rimmed glasses. The "effortless cool" urban bohemian look of a hipster is exemplified in Urban Outfitters and American Apparel ads which cater towards the hipster demographic." The definition goes on much further, but I think you get the point.

The term/lifestyle of hipster is fully integrated into the world's lexicon, and even out literature. Curious as to how to become a hipster? Well there's a book for that. In the same way that The Official Preppy Handbook outlined a how-to of polo shirts and duck motifs, The Hipster Handbook, takes it a step past satirical, and outlines some of the things one needs to sustain the hipster lifestyle.

I've assembled my own list, but I caution you - this is only from my observations this past weekend in DC and is no way an exhaustive list of things that are hipster:

• handle bar mustaches
• extra-skinny jeans
• misplaced accessories
• owl pendants
• wearing glasses that you'll be mortified to see a picture of yourself wearing in 10 years
• straw fedoras, but not the Jason Mraz kind
• looking like the girls in the American Apparel ads
• purchasing PBR at a bar
• calling something "too mainstream"
• an obsession with putting paper mustaches on things
• &
• engaging in any type of argument about craft beers
• owning a fixed gear bike

I admit, I've bought into it a little bit. I own a pair of navy blue Toms (or are those not even considered hipster anymore?), have attempted to buy a fedora (It was an epic failure. Apparently all hat wearers have much smaller noggins than I do.), I have multiple pairs of skinny jeans (although I contest this point because I've had mine for years. I've always hated flared jeans and opted for a skinny boot cut for years.), and my work computer has a mustache. But even then, I wouldn't say I've really bought into it. It easy to say that it's a fad, of which I happen to have items from the list of possibilities. I don't think that quantifies me as a hipster, but I'd be happy to hear your thoughts.

I think of my favorite new nonsense/timewasting websties is Dads Are The Original Hipster, full of gems like this:

"Your dad owned an Apple before you did and he’s got the Macintosh Classic to prove it."

"Your dad took killer profile pics before you did and he’s rowed a tree stump across the woods to prove it." 

I'm pretty sure my Dad could make a significant contribution to this website. (Calling all relatives - reward for any photos submitted to me!) There have got to be some photos of him in 80s short shorts throwin a Frisbee around a campsite somewhere. My Dad thought Frisbee was fun before you did, and he's got the skills to prove it.

Disclaimer: This post is not meant to be a dig at anyone personally, their clothing, or their lifestyle choices. Just some observations from a summer in the city. It's not my style to judge someone based on the way they live their life, especially when I'm guilty of a few of these hipster offenses myself.

What I'm Reading: It's Saturday Night!

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In a (semi) recent attempt to get this book from the local library, I ended up with this instead:  Live from New York: An Uncensored History of Saturday Night Live by Tom Shales and James Andrew Miller, a textbook-size oral history of NBC's flagship late-night program. Shales and Miller are both journalists, and (especially according to my father) they don't come much better than Shales who won a Pulitzer as a TV critic.

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I'll start this review by saying I'm a little biased about the topic - I love Saturday Night Live. I'm comfortable making this all encompassing statement, and it's gotten me into more than a few arguments over my lifetime. This is not me saying I've loved every sketch they've ever done; this is not me saying I've loved every cast member they've ever featured; this is me saying that as a whole, I love Saturday Night Live...and I'll get to the details below...but for now, onto the book.

My only complaint about the book (and I'll get this out of the way now) would be the format, which in its own way is quite genius, but I also found it quite exhausting. The entire book is like one long interview; within the book's seven chapters, there are very few author narrated segments - the vast majority of the book is snippets of interviews with the cast, writers, producers, and hosts. The snippets vary in length from one liners, to several pages long. All together, the interviews tell the stories of SNL, spanning from it's humble, cocaine-fueled beginnings in 1975, to the Jimmy Fallon/Tina Fey lead cast of the early 2000s (the book was published in 2002).

The oral history format really lends itself well to this extremely large cast of characters; 30+ years of cast members, writers, hosts, and NBC execs were interviewed as a part of the book. While it is easy to see the consensus, and even themes, throughout the entire text, it wouldn't have been as effectively conveyed if it were in the voice of the authors. So, while I'm sure there are many arguable faults in the format, and even I myself would fight for a few, I don't know any other way to have done it - so we'll move on.

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The first two chapters of the book was by far the most interesting. Through the first 200 pages, the surviving members of the Not Ready For Prime Time Players (the nickname the cast members from the first five seasons gave themselves), a handful of writers, and various NBC executives who were overseeing things at the time, talk about those formative years, and what it was like with "inmates running the asylum." 

The cast full of egos didn't clash quite as often as you'd imagine; they were, for the most part, too busy sleeping with each other and out all night partying at Dan Aykroyd and John Belushi's bar. But the one ego who seemed to rub almost everyone the wrong way was  Chevy Chase. I'm a big Caddyshack fan, so I know a bit of the behind the scenes feuding that supposedly happened between the movie's two biggest stars: Chevy Chase and Bill Murray.  They're actually only in one scene together because they didn't get along at all. And it all kind of makes sense now. Live explains that Billy replaced Chevy, who left at the end of the first season, and there was always a bit of bad blood between the two; possibly brought on by, what the book alluded to as, a bit of residual guilt on Chevy's part for leaving the show after the breakout first season; "twenty-three years later, at the unveiling of a Lorne Michaels star on Hollywood Walk of Fame in Los Angeles, Chase would tell a crowd assembled for the event that leaving the show when he did was a mistake - and that he still regretted it."

Through the next five chapters, Shales and Miller guide you through the SNL's hits and misses up through the 2002 season. While the cast's anecdotes and memories are compelling enough to get you through the book, to me the most interesting aspect is Lorne Michaels, SNL's Executive Producer and creator.

Lorne Michaels

Now in his late sixties, Michaels was (according to most people) the driving force behind the creation of SNL in the mid-1970s. He came up with the concept, he hand picked the cast, and he tracked down the writers. He has served as the Executive Producer for every season except '80-'85 (he left the show after 5 seasons to pursue other projects but decided to come back in '85 to save his failing brain child).

Throughout the book, feelings for Michaels are mixed: some call him cold and unappreciative, but the large majority of them referred to him as a mentor, and even a father figure. Host Candice Bergen said "I always felt Lorne was never given anywhere near the fractional credit that he deserved for really having such an impact on our culture and on comedy and on television." In the final chapter (simply titled, Lorne) writer Andy Breckman says explains his mixed feelings for working for Michaels for so many years, but "if there's one thing you can't fault Lorne for, it's the format of the show and how the show comes together, because more than any other show in the history of television, it's withstood the test of time."

I have always been fascinated with Lorne Michaels and the empire he built out of Saturday Night Live. He's my "if you could have dinner with anyone..." person, and this book only further cemented fact for me. He has not only produced all but those five seasons, but along the way has had his hand in 10+ SNL character spin off movies (Wayne's World, Coneheads, etc.) and a slew of other side projects (he's a consulting producer on Tina Fey's 30 Rock and Late Night with Jimmy Fallon); not everything he's had his hand in has been wildly successful (i.e. Wayne's World 2, Hot Rod).

But my fascination can get over the box office flops, and focuses on the longevity he's had in television success and where he can go from here. In the book, at the funeral of a fellow long-time SNL writer, writer Alan Zweibel reflected, "my mind immediately went to, 'Jesus, if Lorne dies, are we all still going to be able to get together like this? Whose going to throw the party?"

But it of course runs deeper than that; the question is, what happens when it's not Lorne running the show anymore? Will it even get to that point, or will they opt to take it off the air while it's still doing relatively well? Will they close the final curtain while he's still at the helm? Or is there a predecessor in training behind the scenes, but would that person ever be able to fill Lorne's shoes? There's no debate in my mind that if Michaels was no longer at the helm, the show would change - if not by design, then by force. The five years that Michaels was away from SNL were some of the show's lowest ratings in it's history; and while it may be a different story 30 years later, I'm not sure that's a risk the network would be willing to take. It's no secret that he can't go on and do this forever. He's 66 and going to leave the show at some point, but will SNL succeed from there.

This is all a bit off track from the scope of the book itself, but it's the questions I was left with when I got done reading. Live from New York is almost 10 years old at this point, but the history of the show doesn't change, it just gets more complex as more and more cast members and writers are added to the mix as the  year's go on. While I doubt there'd be an updated version coming out anytime soon, I'll sure be keeping my ear to the ground for other books like this about the more recent casts of SNL.

I'll close with two of my favorite quotes from the book. The first is by Lorne, in a passage talking about the rigorous weekly schedule that the show demands, and how some weeks things fall in place, and other weeks things just fall apart. The second quote, which closed out the sixth chapter and would have been fitting as the closing of the book, is the authors' summary of SNL's impact on society (not sure it can really be summed up into two sentences, but I think this is the best attempt possible).

"We don't go on the air because the show's ready, we go on because it's eleven-thirty." Lorne Michaels

"Saturday Night Live lives - a part of us, a reflection of us, a microcosm of us. National roundtable, national sounding board, national jester, and inarguably after all these years, national treasure."




PS I added my "to-read" list onto by blog. If you have any suggestions for me, just let me know

Three Things Thursday - my brain tonight

This week's Three is what is currently infatuating my brain: baseball (shocking I know), books (again, surprise!), and the god damn heat (a continued f*ck you to DC).

1: Baseball
Having recently (it was almost a full year ago, can I really call that recently?) moved across the country (again, another arguable phrase) I still proudly maintain my love for the Brewers. In fact, I think being farther way, not being able to see as many games in person or even on tv for that matter, has made me a better, more appreciative fan. I cling to any moment ESPN decides to take focus off the Yankees/Red Sox and highlight the Crew; or even on the rare occasion that the Brewers are the MLB game of the day and I get to watch it for free on the internet (I know MLB doesn't harbor any ESPN-like prejudices, the Brewers just have to wait their turn in the free broadcast rotation) - these are sacred occasions in my book.

Being a baseball fan is an interesting thing. It can bring you together with people that you never knew before, and will probably never see again in your lifetime. And it can drive you to hate someone you've never met, or even that your otherwise adore dearly. Sports are quite a unifying thing, and as I see it, if you're a fan at all that's good enough for me.

Where do you fall in the United Countries of Baseball? Are you a displaced fan scraping for a live broadcast feed, like me?  Or are you living in your team's homeland, taking full advantage of the home field advantage?

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2: Books
I am so engrossed in this book right now. It's quite lengthy, almost exhausting to read; and now that I'm 40 pages from the end, I wish there was more. I'm working on a full write up (a dual review actually, about the book and about Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip). But in light of the topic, and several trustworthy reviews I've gotten from friends I'm adding this to the top of my to-read list:

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My current to-read list probably could sustain it's own tab on this blog, but it's currently stored in my phone for the next occasion I'm at the library or standing in a bookstore. I'll never have to stand there and wonder, "what was that one called..." And because I'm a glutton for punishment, I'm happily accepting book recommendations - just comment below.


3: Heat
And I'm sticking with my opinions from Tuesday...I'm ready for summer to end. After sitting here and suffering all evening, I've finally broken down and turned my air condition back on. I'll suffer to save some money on my electric bill, but not if the heat is going to keep me up at night.

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After a sweltering summer, I'm ready for jeans and hooded sweatshirt, my running tights and nike gloves, my scarves and a nice cup of tea.

Happy frickin Thursday all.
Hope you've found some of your own infatuations tonight.

take a break

Because everyone deserves one, but very few people take it.

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Today I'm taking a day to myself. 

Because sometimes you just need to reboot and start over tomorrow.