{Closet Challenge} Week 1

Well, good news! I've signed on to do this closet challenge thing that entails taking one item from you closet and wearing it three different ways every week. It's a continuation of the Dress to Impress project, over at Suz Stephenson's blog Well to do, you.

I over heard a conversation my roommate was having with one of her friends (I wasn't eavesdropping, they knew I was there and it was the next room over, jeez!) The friend said that she felt like she sees a lot of blogs that consist of mostly pictures and she missed the writing. Daisy, I'm sorry to say that my closet, my Instagram and I are upping the photo content of this thing by like, a million percent. But maybe since I'll be posting more often I'll be in the habit of posting more often and it'll be a win for everyone.

Here's the first week. I love this dress. I can make it fancy, I can make it casual. I can wear it backwards. It's great because the print has so many different blues, greys and even a few hues of cream, it might as well be a LBD. Actually, you could call it my little blue dress.

Dress, Target (on sale for $11). Shirt, Anne Taylor Loft. Navy Tights, uhhhh Good Cause Thrift Shop? Charcoal oxfords, Marden's. Beaded headband, Claire's, I think, it was a bridesmaid gift.

Speaking of my roommate, she told me the other day that I do a good job winterizing my summer dresses. Wait, my dresses aren't a house. Appropriating my dresses for winter.

Originally I was going to wear my glasses but they interfered with the headband.

Day two. Grey turtleneck, Lewiston Salvation Army. Grey tights, Goodwill. Ruffled heels, Steve Madden via Find via my friend Heather. (Amanda, did you get those at Find? I sold them!)

Close up.

Day three (at the office.) My office/cubbie at the Public Affairs office can get so cold! But I have to also try and look somewhat professional i.e. not like a student who rolled out of bed just 20 minutes before leaving the house.

Cardigan, Urban Outfitters. Skirt, Dress for Success Southern Maine overstock sale. Black flats, Aldo.

This is the backwards look I mentioned.

Feeling Foolish in Snow Pants

If you're one of the few non-Portland/non-Maine residents reading this blog, let me tell you, it's been unbelievably  cold. It was 6 degrees this morning when I woke up. Then I looked at weather.com, and they said, "Feels like -9." I showed my roommate and she was like, "No fucking way! Not even Celcius! What- what does that even feel like??" So when I say it was unbelievably cold, I'm not talking about an unbelievably hot guy or unbelievably funny joke, using unbelievable as a means of exaggeration. No. We actually had a difficult time believing it felt like -9.


When preparing to leave the house I realized, this is not the time to be screwing around. The problem is that I don't have a car and I work(ed) at a fancy boutique downtown. So I can't saunter in looking like a red-faced, drippy-nosed Inuit. I have to look poised- like I wouldn't bat an eyelash at someone spending the equivalent of a month's rent on a sweater that isn't even cashmere; like I couldn't care less that it was incredibly cold outside.  


Here's what I wore there:

The boutique: Cardigan, vintage (??). Blouse, L.L. Bean Signature (one of the fanciest shirts I own). Black skirt, vintage from Dress for Success Southern Maine sample sale. Navy tights, Good Cause Thrift Store. Black flats, Aldo.


This is what I wore home:  

The "Fuck Winter" look: Jacket, Target. Same sweater I wear every day, courtesy of Kate Digby Skinner's ex-boyfriend, T-shirt I wear all the time, courtesy one of Mandy Wheeler's former lovers, Black scarf, Angela Pizzo's "Free" pile, Snow pants, Columbia via Salvation Army, Boots, L.L. Bean via Goodwill. Hat and mittens not pictured. I try hard to not look homeless when I bundle up, but sometimes I just don't know if that's possible.


I went on to wear this outfit to visit Bridget at the monthly Ceili at RiRa. It was the most well-attended dances that I'd been to, which means a plethora of children screaming and running around (that's not an exaggeration.) There's a chance I might've caused two of them to fall over, but it wasn't my fault- my bulk and bundles of winter gear had an adverse effect on my peripheral vision.  I sat at the bar with my snow pants on. Even though I felt a tiny bit foolish, I gotta tell you: I was warm. 

Continuing on the theme of feeling foolish, when I walk around in these pants, they make a loud swishing sound. I recorded a bit, to entice my readers with a bit of multi-media t. But because I wasn't paying careful attention to the sidewalk as I was recording, I slid and almost ate it. There was a break in the rhythm of the recording walking whsssh whck whsssh whck SILENCE, but the quality wasn't great and I accidentally deleted it.


So, if you are a person who doesn't do anything outdoors other than walking around and geting cold, I still suggest getting a pair of snow pants just in case.


PS- as I am writing this about the evening in question, which happened last week, we're getting forecasts for over 40 degrees.


PPS- I crashed at the barn for the first time in way too long. When we woke up, this was the temperature:

Seriously?! It's like you're photoshopped!

2011 in iPhone pictures

A nice lady I know who blogs at Sweet William made a post, "2011 in iPhone pictures."

I thought it was a great idea, so here are mine.

Overall, 2011 wasn't terrible. No complaints. That's mostly thanks to Cleveland, my normal, functional, loving boyfriend and my extremely large workload, which keeps me out of trouble. The only things missing were a new high bowling score and ANY KARAOKE AT ALL. Seriously, I don't think I karaoke once in 2011. Wait, does that count as trouble? Where has the time gone?

In 2012, you can look forward to more pictures! Seriously, I finally upgraded to the iPhone 4 and these pics are sweeeeet!

Music Scene: Kino Proby at Empire 12/30/11

Today began leaving the Bilmar Beach Resort in Treasure Island, Florida (3/5 stars) to drive an hour to the Manatee Viewing Center at Tampa Electric (seriously, if you like manatees half as much as Hannah Morrish, you need to go to there. I saw dozens of manatees.) Then it took almost an hour to get to the airport. At the Tampa International Airport, if you're every flying jetBlue, make sure you stop at the Tequilaria and try the Spicy Mango Margarita. Much like the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears, it was just right. Cleveland and I waited two hours, took a two and a half hour flight to Boston, waited an hour, then took a two hour bus to Portland. It was the kind of travelling day that makes you want to get straight in bed when you get home, regardless of the appropriateness of the hour.

Instead, I decided to go see Kino Proby at Empire. Kino Proby plays once a year, if we're lucky and much like the Ice Bar at the Portland Harbor Hotel, I'd been meaning to go for years. One member lives in Russia, one in LA, so it's quite an occasion. None of my friends were available; Cleveland was going to bed, Roommate #1 was out of town, Roommate #2 was actually vomiting when I crossed the threshold into the apartment after being in Florida for six days, Mandy was tired and it was too late/short notice to call anyone else. So I went alone.

Here are my tweets from the evening:

Upstairs at Empire, the first people I see are the Food Coma TV crew and half the staff of CIEE. One of the members of Kino Proby saying something in Russian, then in English asked how many people in the room understood him. About half. I approached the bar, intending to dutifully drink a bunch of vodka. There were 10 Russian/Eastern European men ahead of me, half of them wearing leather bomber jackets and the other half with gel in their hair. Once the crowd parted, I realized one of them ordered about 15 shots of Jager. That same guy saw I was waiting and offered me a shot. Holy shit, the shots were ordered with no designated recipients.

Instead of a play by play of the entire evening, here are some quotes:

"Kino Proby is like the U2 of Russia." (Then in my notes I wrote, Kino Proby : Russia :: U2 : Everywhere other than Russia. Yup, I took notes.)

"I know your name, Alex Steed. I wanted to let you know that I'm not scared of you. Two years ago, at this show, I was crazy dancing in the front. I looked up and your face was like, right there- and you were dancing right next to me. It freaked me out. But now I'm not freaked out anymore and I wanted to let you know."

"Russia or Lewiston?"

"That guy is like Michael Jackson meets Marty McFly." Red and black shiny bubble vest, gelled hair, bright white sneakers.

"What's the sexual mood in the room?" "I don't know. But I've accidentally made eye contact with like, ten Russian men. They are like sharks."

"Shot glasses are going down like bullets."

"Out of RedBull!"

"I don't want my fingers cut off with cigar trimmers."*

Kino Proby Live At PCMH Portland, ME from [dog]and[pony] on Vimeo.

It was a great night, and I wish you were all there.

Lastly, a PSA (and I've been meaning to say this for a while). Portland cab drivers: if your light is on, it means you are available for service. If your light is off, it means you are not available for service. If there are people in your car, getting a ride, turn the light off. This will signal to other potential customers that you are nor available.

*There was an incredibly intoxicated woman all over Joe, Andrew and Alex. She kind of looked like Maybe from Arrested Development, but without freckles. Alex called her the Drunk Manic Pixie Dream Girl, or something, but I decided after her very unamused boyfriend/not boyfriend came over and didn't say one word while administering a flawless death stare, she was actually Manic Pixie Nightmare Girl. Maybe it's because Russian is always villified in the movies, but this guy did actually look like he might have been capable of something like cutting fingers off. Disclaimer: I think all people were created equally and I try to not perpetuate stereotypes. Russia is very intriguing and someday I want to go to there.

Blogging for Good: Dress for Success Southern Maine

This week, Corey Templeton of Portland Daily Photo asked a handful of Portland bloggers to take some time out of their busy blogging/holiday schedules and acknowledge a not for profit organization worthy of their attention (and dollars?). 


I could talk about SPACE Gallery, the Telling Room or public radio (some of my favorites and heavy hitters in town), but I know there is an organization that needs my recognition even more: Dress for Success Southern Maine. 

The mission of Dress for Success is to help disadvantaged women re-enter the workforce. 


Picture this: you are interviewing candidates for a position at your awesome company. Someone comes in dishevelment, anxious, and then you found out that she just got out of rehab. Or has been out of the workforce because she's been on welfare and couldn't afford childcare for her kids and work. Or, she was in prison. 


Now picture a confident looking woman who comes in, dressed in appropriate interview attire and of her gap in employment says, "I was out of work for a little while dealing with some personal issues, but I'm focused and ready to get serious about my career. I want to work for your company." That's their goal. They work with women to help them get the confidence they need to succeed in life. It starts with women looking themselves in the mirror, dressed for success. Since their inception, Dress for Success Southern Maine has suited over 1,000 women. 


I have some first-hand experience with the subject matter. My sister is a struggling, single mom. I've been on food stamps since I lost my full-time job last year. Disclaimer, I interned there this fall. However, my internship is technically over and I'm still volunteering because I believe in what we're doing. Sometimes when I update the testimonials on the website, I get a little  teary-eyed. I mean, I'm overly emotional. Just read some of these:

“I found your place to be incredibly wonderful!  Everyone there was sensitive and respectful -- fun, helpful suggestions, laughter making the experience such a positive one!  I have felt so much more confident knowing I had a beautiful new and modern outfit.  Thank you for your help.  It is SUCH an encouraging and confidence boosting place.” "Thank you so much for helping me.  From the time I arrived, it was a great experience and I walked out feeling better about myself.  The people at Dress for Success Southern Maine are so helpful and kind.  Thank you.”

“When I’m in a suit I feel like I’m getting there.  I might not be there yet, but I’m well on my way.”

"Women in active addiction lose so much. When they arrive in treatment with Crossroads, they are addressing many crucial areas of their lives all at once; their addiction, their mental health issues, health problems, family and childcare problems, legal issues and all with limited economic resources. More importantly is the loss of confidence, dignity and hope.   Dress for Success Southern Maine gives the women an opportunity to present themselves at interviews in a way that inspires hope, dignity and confidence. And the kind support that they receive when they go for their "personal shopping" appointment helps them feel a part of the greater community again - or for some, the first time."

Teresa Valliere, Director of Inpatient Services, Crossroads for Women

Collecting and sorting donations, maintaining the organization of the boutique, managing volunteers to be personal shoppers for the clients, planning fundraising events and professional women support groups- these things all take time and money. Donate to Dress for Success Southern Maine here. Learn more about volunteer opportunities here.

My Promos!

I've also been laboring away in the production room at WMPG all semester. Our assignments included making a 45 minute DJ demo, and a 15 minute talk show demo. This might be a little bit confusing, but here are the promos that I made for the demos that I recorded. They are far from perfect, but feature music and shoutouts to some local bands. Sometimes when you're working on a project, be it a painting, an essay, a 50k word novel or a one minute radio promo, you need to stop tweaking and let it go.

Posting audio is something I'd like to do more often, but there have been a lack of recording opportunities lately. Oh right, and my iPhone 3 is so slow it might as well be dialing up to get the internet. (I might upgrade soon, I might downgrade... trying to prioritize wants vs. needs.)

The Mixtape Collective, my pretend show from 5-7 Saturdays on WMPG


The Student Standpoint, an actual podcast at iTunes U.

Since I been goooooone

You know those unbelievably annoying Geico commercials that are always on Hulu? No? There's one that starts, "Did you know Geico could save you twenty percent on car insurance? Have you been living under a rock?" and then a guy who has actually been living under a rock comes out, sees the billboard and goes, "No way!"

I've kind of been that guy.

As of right now, this moment, I have three, count 'em THREE jobs, an internship and a few days of completing a fifteen credit semester. I'm wiped. out! OH WAIT! There were also three stupid weeks in November in which I tried to participate in National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo for those of you who are 'with it'.) After only 30,000 words, I decided to focus on the work I was actually being graded on. (Writing will resume after my last class this Wednesday). After all that, I barely had the mental capacity for Hart of Dixie, let alone more sophisticated comedies like Community or the Office.

I was planning on doing a redesign complete with a FAQ page and some other stuff for my first post after this elongated, unintentional hiatus. But as I was trying to will myself to sleep so I can make it into the office at 9 a.m., I realized that if I was going to be losing sleep because of things I haven't done, I should stay up and do stuff.

There's good news, though. Soon, I'll be back with a few posts about non-profit management, the Big Lebowski, a woman who went crazy on LinkedIn, and maybe a few other things.

In the meantime, I have a few things to share:

1)  I made a professional portfolio website for myself: amandapleauwrites.com. I got an A. There's also a pronunciation guide to my last name, in case you had it wrong all these years and want to feel bad about it.

2) I'm contributing to Get Vintaged, a website some classmates and I put together for our Senior Seminar. This is a promotional video we put together that I sound kind of weird in. But I also wrote some of the shop profiles and a blog.


GetVintaged.com Promo from CMS Videos on Vimeo.


3) I've been blogging over at dressforsuccesssouthernmaine.blogspot.com

4) I'm looking forward to a trip to Florida in a few weeks to meet half of Cleveland's family!! Pop-pop!

What's up with you? Any book/music recommendations? Year-end wrap up lists I should know of?

Two Princes

If my cat Baby was able to like, type, she'd dedicate this song to all of you in honor of the Spin Doctors playing at Port City Music Hall tonight.

"If you want to call me Baby, just go ahead now..."

I ride the Greyhound Bus

I'm on a Greyhound bus right now.

Let me tell you. If you didn't already know, avoid taking the Greyhound bus at all costs (and it's not because that one time some guy shot himself in the head.)

Two nights ago I tried to purchase my ticket online. Portland to Lewiston same-day round trip. But the website told me that I couldn't get a ticket for that schedule online, that I should modify my search. There are like, three buses a day that go to Lewiston, so that wasn't an option. Defeated, I decided to try again the next day.

Last night, I again failed at purchasing the ticket online, so I figured I'd call the number provided to try and get a ticket that way. Fifteen minutes and several attempts navigating the dial by number menu, I finally reached someone. Nope. TEN DOLLAR unadvertised service fee for purchasing tickets over the phone. So I asked Juanita or whatever if she could explain why tickets weren't available online. She connected me with web support, who tried to sell me the ticket over the phone and didn't mention the service fee until I brought it up. THANKS FOR NOTHING, WEB SUPPORT! Then he offered to try and buy the ticket online for me.

So this morning, I roll out of bed, bright and early, and even manage to form coherent sentences before 7:30 at the coffeeshop. I make it to the Greyhound station, where I'm supposed to be buying my ticket, and it's locked. The bus is coming in 15 mins and there's a small crowd of poor, pathetic Greyhound losers with hodgepodge luggage and fucked up teeth. I decide I will fight them all for a ticket, if need be. My gigantic laptop computer will act as a shield against their blows. 

The bus pulls in and  we're told that the reason the terminal isn't open is because there is no power. What? Uh. The biggest hospital in the state is pretty much next door and I'm almost positive I saw lights on in the convenience store across the street. The driver, Mr. Moore, tells us that if we don't have a ticket, we can get on if we surrender a form of id, which will be returned to us in exchange for a ticket. While other simpletons struggle with the concept of not having a ticket but allowed on anyway, I wonder if replacing my State ID is less than a one-way ticket...

A broad-shouldered black man with a deep voice and a doo rag has been sitting behind me the whole time. He's been on the phone with his baby mamma or something since 8:00. They're just chatting now, but when he got on the bus he said, defiantly, "I ain't gunna ride dis fuggin bus no more. Das it."  Though I don't really understand who the eff is up at 8 a.m. to have a 30 min chit chat over the phone, I couldn't have put it better myself.

(I hope this post doesn't offend anyone except Greyhound. I am SO GRUMPY and I am in dire need of ANOTHER COFFEE AND A TISSUE. And really, I'm not so different than these people. My mom should probably buy me breakfast.)

Grand Falls Hut

A few days ago I went on a little adventure with the Nature Conservancy and Maine Huts and Trails.

Cleveland drove and it was raining the whole way there. A lot. He frowned and sighed for the majority of the  three hour car ride, but for some reason I wouldn't budge. I kept saying things like, "It won't be that bad! Think of this as a challenge, like we're going to feel amazing afterwards. And we're going to be so relieved to get warm in that hut and sit by the fire and drink hot cocoa! We'll only be soaking wet for a few hours!"

WTF was I thinking? I'm still not entirely sure. He even confessed considering offering an alternative plan, like hiding away in a hotel with a hot tub somewhere just to not do it.

It was nice, being at the hut, getting warm, and it actually felt like we earned that Jumbalya with the fruits of our labor... surrounded by hardcore ski/outdoor people who were debating which remote Maine roads were washed out by Hurricane Irene between the Forks, Sugarloaf and Saddleback.

This is a Polyvore set that I made roughly outlining my outfit. Note: my shirt wasn't yellow, it was black and white.

This is what our companions were wearing, with the exception of possibly Maggie, who kept her Ponomo earrings on the whole time.

Just kidding. That's from the Patagonia website.

Here's the hut:

mainehuts.org

 A friend recently told me that I'm outdoorsy now. I said that I didn't have the right gear to be outdoorsy. Seriously. Do you have any idea how much Gortex costs? At one point, when we were packing, Cleveland pulled a hat out of his closet. I said that he should bring the hat, he said he didn't particularly like the hat, thought that it looked sort of stupid. I'll tell you. We both looked sort of stupid in Cleveland's grandfather's beautiful wooden canoe, with our piecemeal outdoor gear (anything not cotton). But that stupid hat definitely kept his head warm and dry.

One of of the other women on the trip, a fundraiser, also paddled to the hut (as opposed to hiked.) Her and her husband run an adventure/coffee business non-profit business and is currently looking for takers on a Costa Rica trip: part sustainable coffee tour, part white water rafting/adventure. She asked me how our paddle was (they literally paddled six miles an hour downstream. That's a lot.) Cleveland and I are new to paddling together- I'm inexperienced at steering, and he's not terribly experienced in a canoe, though in his defense he's done more kayaking and rafting than I have. But we somehow found our groove and we made decent time. Adventure woman seemed genuinely happy for us, then remarked, "They don't call them divorce boats for nothing."

At the end of the second day, my muscles were definitely aching. We paddled 12 miles and hiked about 5. Grand Falls lived up to it's name, and I'm excited to visit Maine Huts and Trails again... when it's sunny. Maybe this winter?

image c.o rangeleysnomobile.com

Joseph Gordon-Levitt does Axl does Gaga

Haven't done a real post in a long time, but until the epic post I finish is ready, here's a GEM of a karaoke video. We've all known for a while that Jimmy Fallon does amazing impressions, but Joseph Gordon-Levitt doing Axl Rose?? This might be the all-time greatest TV karaoke moment.

A League of Their Own

(I'm the green.)

Midcoast Weekend Pt. 1

Cleveland and I stayed in Boothbay Harbor this weekend. Here are some highlights. Lowlights to come.

1.       The berries. We were hiking (ahem, walking) in the La Verna Nature Preserve in Bristol, ME, contemplating the many reasons Dirty Dancing should NOT be remade (more on that to come).  He was burdened with the very serious task of looking out for poison ivy. I can never remember what it looks like- I always think it should be redder and more poisonous-looking. While scouring the underbrush, he found some blackberries. “Hey Amanda! Check this out!” So I ate one…and then like Mandy when she goes to Forever 21- I got the crazy eye. It’s like I had one mission and one mission only. To find! More! Berries! He could have left me on the trail and I probably would’ve been so caught up in my foraging that I wouldn’t have noticed. I could have sustained myself out there for days! Weeks!! It was so badass.  I started trying to remember whether Survivor is still on the air... Feeding yourself with berries from the woods is so cool.

Here's a map. What's not pictured is the contemplation point:
 


2.       Cleveland’s family was visiting a few weeks ago, and they had to cancel the kayak trip they were going to take. They left him with the voucher. So we went kayaking! Our guide, Damon was a typical river guide, super chill, really knowledgeable.  He even explained the dreaded headwind that I always seem to be paddling against whenever I try to paddle in the afternoon. Attean Pond, I’m looking at you! I’m happy to say that according to Damon, I’m “a natural” at kayaking and excited to check ‘palindrome boating activity’ off of my bucket list.

(no pictures, we were too busy paddlin' for our souls.) 

3.       When Cleveland’s family was visiting, they also took a Hardy Boat to Monhegan Island. Every time the Hardy Boat makes a trip, they ask their passengers to fill out a comment card about their trip, and enter those people into a drawing for a free Hardy Boat ride. They’ve really got the incentive part of survey-based research figured out. Anyway, Cleveland won a free trip! We decided to go on the Puffin cruise to Eastern Egg Island, the southern most Puffin breeding ground. Let me tell you, the cruise was awesome. We needed binoculars to see the birds, so the awesomeness stems from the narration by Dr. Stephen W. Kress from the National Audubon Society and the Project Puffin. There weren't too many birds, since the breeding season was nearly over, but we did see a few hanging out in the ocean. 
 
Dr. Kress was so excited about the Puffins, floating near the boat he’d say, “Just look at the beautiful lighting on that bird. Oh. Just beautiful.” He said this like four times for every bird we saw. Which was maybe six. Or the same two birds three times. I don’t know. But I had no idea Puffins were so adorable. I happened to learn all kinds of interesting Puffin facts, so email me at amandajennifer at gmail dot com if you're interested in hearing a rant.

BABY PUFFIN!

And look at these guys!

4.        Shaw's Fish & Lobster Wharf Restaurant. My friend’s dad thinks that no one should ever order lobster at a restaurant, and I sort of think he’s right. With the exception of places like Shaw’s, however, where you will actually see the boats bringing in the day’s catch next to the deck you’re eating on. The restaurant is on a wharf, hence ‘Wharf Restaurant,’ which I think sort of negates the idea that lobster is inappropriate to eat at a restaurant. I still felt like I was covered up to my elbows with salt water after eating it, but it was worth it. So fresh, so delicious. 

There was also a bar we did not get a chance to hit, but look at this weird thing: 

 It says you need to be born in 1994 to drink at that bar. WTF! I'm no math wizard, the only reason I caught it was because I was born 10 years earlier and I am NOT 31!

Text from my new roommate. Her bed hasn't arrived yet...

Rob Sheffield is Awesome

I'm in the middle of reading and thoroughly enjoying Rob Sheffield's latest book, Talking to Girls about Duran Duran.

He just recounted running into a friend from high school a few years after graduation. They talked about Morrissey and baseball for hours, but never saw each other again.

I thought it was strange to spend an evening having so much fun with someone i didn't know so well, and not to hang out after that, because i was too young to know that adult life is full of accidents and interrupted moments and empty beds you climb into and don't climb out of.

Well said, Sheffield. Well said.

The Photo Essay and Steel Dragon

As I just mentioned in the previous post, I have a crapload of work to do this month.

One thing I just finished is a photo essay, which I accidentally made into like, my diary. We presented in class today. Today, everyone seemed pleased that the class was finished. Although for the most part, it was one of the most engaging classes I've had at USM thusfar. It was only ten of us, and we met three times a week for over three hours a day. There was only one "token" traditional student in the class, everyone else was older, transferred or whatever and we all had our ridiculous life stories to share. Our discussions were lively, bordering on rowdy, and it's safe to say at least half of the class left today as better, more well-rounded students.

I found a site that would let me share the power point presentation that I made. The only reason I'm doing this is to juxtapose it with the presentation that happened right before mine. Malcolm's essay was more of a wham-bam movie about his life-long connection with Sebago Lake, including old family photos, history of the lake and history of his Armenian family. His presentation had the feel of a summer blockbuster movie trailer. My presentation actually killed the conversation when it was finished.

Here is the song accompanying Malcolm's presentation. You only have to listen for about a minute or two to get the gist.



And here's my sad, silent presentation. It helps if you click the full screen mode. The quality isn't great, but I'm no technology wizard. Here you go:

My Photo Essay

Fluff: It's What's for Dinner

Here's one for all you foodies.

It's summer, a time for goofing off, hitting the pool, the beach. Drinking margaritas, mojitos, and other refreshing adult beverages brought to us frigid New England bitches* from warmer climates. Instead, I am trying really hard to graduate in May, and part of gittin' er done means two four week classes. While I'm working 20 hours a week at my work-study job, writing crazy letters to the editor, make it to the beach, and fulfill many wedding-related obligations. Oh, and the Bachelorette. I'm bummed Ames is gone, but I'm really starting to root for JP. What? She's from the County. Gotta keep it real.

Let me break it down for you. Each semester is 15 weeks. So taking one class during a four-week session is the roughly the equivalent of taking three. Taking two is like taking six, which is eighteen credits. A normal student takes between 12 and 15 credits. Over 18 is considered "an overload." That's what I'm doing now. During summer. But I guess it's technically finals week and I'm able to write this blog... so....

One time, I also found myself taking 15 credits and working a part time job. I was probably as poor then as I am now, though back then I was under 21 and still a non-drinker. At Montserrat College of Art, somehow, I didn't understand financial aid, credit hours, or the fact that I was moving away to go to college at a place that didn't have a fucking cafeteria. WTF, Montserrat? It was kind of insane, now that I think about it. Probably more work than I've ever done in my life. Drawing and painting homework has the propensity to take way, way longer than writing a paper or reading a book. Trust me. I've never stayed up until 3:00 a.m. because I felt like an essay wasn't done. Or because I wouldn't have the right light to finish the essay in the morning.

But because I'd never lived away from home and therefore had never really prepared any of my own meals, let alone gone shopping for them, my food became like, abstract art or something. Here's a recipe for something I ate all the time.

Prep time:
5 min
Ingredients:
2 slices Pepperidge Farm Cinnamon Swirl Raisin Bread
1/3 cucumber, peeled and sliced thin.
1 tbsp Marshmallow Fluff
1 slice cheddar cheese
Directions:
Carefully slather Fluff unto both slices of bread. Arrange cucumbers on one slice, cover with cheese, then the other slice. Firmly press the sandwich down with your clean hand, as Fluff and cucumbers are slippery. Enjoy!

I'm not kidding. Pepperidge Farm was like, a luxury that I didn't know I could afford myself. We bought local at my house, sort of. Country Kitchen all the way.

It's hard to say whether I could ingest this marvelous concoction today. I'll let you know if I decide to try.

*a genuine Southern gentleman said that to me once, about women here; instead of comforting him, I laughed and said it was true.

Tweet this!

I'm not even sure how I started following this guy.

Boy Band Crushes

I hate talking about dreams. I mean, I really hate it. Unless you can sum it up to two sentences, or somehow make it relevant to something tangible, seriously. Shut up about it.

I'm going to break that rule right now, sort of, in order to tell you that a few nights ago I dreamed that I was walking down the corridor of the Portland Jetport, which looked more like the atrium of a giant mall than an airport. I saw Justin Timberlake waiting in line in a small office. He was in disguise with a dark, curly afro wig. He winked at me.

Then I saw this: Reasons Why Boybands Were Better in the 90s via Hairpin, and remembered that dream. I realized that in the 90s, I always had a difficult time figuring out which member of N'Sync was actually the most attractive. That's because none of them were. Like a good wine, Timberlake got better with age and and some incredibly funny skits on Saturday Night Live.

  (Don't hate- they were all over MTV, which was the center of my universe then. I didn't find out about the Velvet Underground or the Magnetic Fields until I was well into my 20s.)

 I think I'm going to have some funny/awesome stories for you all soon, I promise. #pleasedonthate #iknowmyblogkindasucksnow #tthroughthebestoftimesthroughtheworstoftimes #throughnixonandthroughbush

Albert Maysles: Ladykiller

For those of you who don't get the opportunity to spend a lot of time with me in real life, sometimes I'm incredibly sensitive. Like, cry at a Kleenex commercial sensitive. Mandy likes to point out the time Spirited Away left me almost hysterical, when a train didn't stop for the little girl, it just blew right by. It happens once in a while when I find something poinient or particularly moving, and these days if I start crying for no real reason, I just get excited because my contacts will last another hour. It just happened again, but this time it was a really touching, awesome story and I thought I might share.

I'm taking a full course load this summer, which means this summer is the opposite of last summer. Last summer was the beach, partying, eating out, lazing around,  and this summer I'm inside almost all the time. Either in class, at my work study job, or doing computer-centric homework. Tonight, I'm listening to interviews with famed documentary filmmaker Albert Maysles for a research project.

Albert, currently

Albert (left), David (right) during the filming of Salesmen

Albert and his late brother David are responsible for Grey Gardens, Gimme Shelter, Muhammad and Larry, as well as one of the first feature documentaries Salesman, and like five films about Christo and Jeanne-Claude, who I love. I picked the Maysles out of a hat, and it was really lucky. Not only are the subjects of their films actually of interest to me (I met Muhammad Ali once, and I'm currently in the middle of Keith Richards's autobiography), but Albert seems like a really great role model, a stand up guy and he's from Boston. There is a website called Albert Maysles's Glasses, dedicated to how awesome his signature frames are (Barney's even issued a limited edition Albert Maysles's frame.) Here are two quotes from interviews I've been listening to from ViceTV and NPR:

“In this culture of ours which is supposed to be so open and so open-minded, I think that we have this protective instinct. If someone is going to open their hearts and minds to another person then they’re vulnerable. ‘Oh my god, oh my god they’re vulnerable! They’re going to get hurt.’ I think the healthiest thing you can do is share your thoughts with another person.”  

“I’ve ended up with all of these films and over the years, they’ve all held up. There are so many things that documentaries can teach us.”

Anyway, he was talking about how Salesman, his first feature with his brother didn't get any deals or whatever, so they rented a movie theater in order to have a screening. This is in the 60s, there was no March of the Penguins, Bowling for Columbine or whatever, even before opening weekends were a thing. Documentaries didn't have a place yet. So after the film David and Albert, Al to his friends, were standing at the exit. Everyone was coming by to shake hands and congratulate them on such a fine job with the film. Al noticed there was one person, a woman lingering in the theater, the very last to leave. Then he noticed that she had been crying, a lot. THEN he was struck by how attractive she was... and that's how he met his wife. NO JOKE! She was moved to tears by how amazing his film was and then they got married.

Sometimes I wish my life was so simple.... actually, that means I'd probably be married to this guy.

I hope everyone is having a slightly more enjoyable, slightly less productive summer than I am.