Saturday, November 5, 2011
5. Why I love the East End, v. 1
Unblurred on Penn Avenue. Art galleries, friends all over the place, interactive installations. What isn't there to love?
Friday, November 4, 2011
4. Pen.
Pen vs. computer: the age-old battle. Well, at least the battle from 2000-present.
This might surprise you, but I much prefer the pen to the computer. Yes, I use a computer at least 3 times more than I use a pen. Yes, most of my job(s) revolve around typing things as opposed to hand-writing them. But sometimes, there's nothing more satisfying than putting pen to paper.
This sounds crazy, but go with me on this. Things on the computer just seem less real. I guess because the document I'm creating can't be held in my hands, it's not physically tangible and therefore becomes kind of intellectually intangible too. Like what I'm doing here doesn't exist. Which is a crazy thing to say for someone whose bread and butter is the digital realm. But that's what I feel.
What about you? Do you prefer pen, or computer? And, just to stir things up: pen or pencil? Mac or PC? The debate here could be endless...
This might surprise you, but I much prefer the pen to the computer. Yes, I use a computer at least 3 times more than I use a pen. Yes, most of my job(s) revolve around typing things as opposed to hand-writing them. But sometimes, there's nothing more satisfying than putting pen to paper.
This sounds crazy, but go with me on this. Things on the computer just seem less real. I guess because the document I'm creating can't be held in my hands, it's not physically tangible and therefore becomes kind of intellectually intangible too. Like what I'm doing here doesn't exist. Which is a crazy thing to say for someone whose bread and butter is the digital realm. But that's what I feel.
What about you? Do you prefer pen, or computer? And, just to stir things up: pen or pencil? Mac or PC? The debate here could be endless...
Thursday, November 3, 2011
3. Tunes.
I love music. I have since I was a little girl. I've always been that girl who is singing--in the office, in the shower (even in the freshman dorms), humming along to her iPod while walking down Penn Ave. That's me.
So I'm really excited that today's topic is music. Today as I was walking back to the office, a song came on my iPod that I haven't heard for awhile. Remember this?
I love this song, for so many reasons. First, even though it wasn't intended for the movie, it reminds me of The Devil Wears Prada. Like the book, like the movie, like the song. Done.
But more importantly, this is a girl power song. According to Wikipedia (clearly the legitimate source for everything), the song describes KT Tunstall's realization that she wanted to be a musician: by looking at Patti Smith.
Okay so looking at a photograph of Patti Smith doesn't inspire me (it's okay if it inspires you; I won't judge!). But this song totally does! I kind of imagine the song to be about realizing that "this" is me.
Suddenly I see...this is what I want to be.
So I'm really excited that today's topic is music. Today as I was walking back to the office, a song came on my iPod that I haven't heard for awhile. Remember this?
I love this song, for so many reasons. First, even though it wasn't intended for the movie, it reminds me of The Devil Wears Prada. Like the book, like the movie, like the song. Done.
But more importantly, this is a girl power song. According to Wikipedia (clearly the legitimate source for everything), the song describes KT Tunstall's realization that she wanted to be a musician: by looking at Patti Smith.
Okay so looking at a photograph of Patti Smith doesn't inspire me (it's okay if it inspires you; I won't judge!). But this song totally does! I kind of imagine the song to be about realizing that "this" is me.
Suddenly I see...this is what I want to be.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
2. Nutella. Ella. Ella.
Ey. Ey. Ey.
Nutella is the food of the gods. Of this I am nearly certain. And I'm only nearly certain because I don't know if these mythical gods (not God--I personally make a distinction) we speak of actually eat. But if they do, I'm sure they sustain themselves on Nutella.
But alas, I am not a mythical semi-powerful being. Therefore, I need more than Nutella to keep my body going.
Sad, I know. But it's okay--I like to eat other things, too. My ultimate last meal is probably pretty ridiculous and should I someday become a fancy-dancy food critic (pshhhh), my credibility will be washed away when some sneaky journalist Googles me, finds this post and shares it with the world. Because in fantasies like these (where I'm a fancy-dancy food critic, or a spy, or a schoolteacher) there's always someone trying to bring you down. Just like the movies.
I digress. My ultimate last meal. First thing's first, it's gotta have asparagus. And corn. Because YUM. Actually, roasted asparagus and potatoes. With rosemary, basil and thyme. And then corn on the side. Maybe that could be grilled and shucked off the husk. I'll leave that to you because, well, if this is my last meal then by golly someone else is cooking it for me. Might as well be you.
But I need some kind of protein. And more starches. Carbs don't matter if it's your last meal. As far as protein goes, I'm torn between hot dogs and a pulled pork sandwich. Seriously, I love hot dogs. As a kid, we'd go to Hoss's and I'd get a hot dog every. single. time. Even though mom made them for me at home, too. I loved them. I still love them, but now I get ones that are either turkey or the all-beef ones. Nathan's, specifically. Yum. As for the pulled pork. I can't explain it, but I love it.
Where was I? Oh, right. Starches. Carbs yummy yummy. I love rice. I remember my Nana making me rice for breakfast when I was 11 or 12 and I was staying with her in Florida. Gosh, I haven't thought about that for a long time. She spoiled me. She let me eat breakfast in her recliner in front of the TV that day. It was great. Minute rice with butter and salt. Yeah, I'd want that. But because I've grown up a little bit more, I'd like it to at least be jasmine rice. A little healthier than the Minute variety.
I may not be a mythical being but I love Nutella a lot, so it would definitely be the cherry on the top of this meal. Specifically, these Nutella Chocolate Chip cookies I made last night. Pretty good, if I do say so myself. And by "pretty good" I mean "oh my gosh it tastes like heaven." And for good measure, I'd probably just put a big ol' heaping spoonful of Nutella on top of the cookie.
So there you have it. Roasted asparagus and potatoes, grilled corn, hot dogs/pulled pork, white rice and Nutella cookies. I'm currently reading Julia Child's "My Life in France" and am 99% sure she's looking down on me with shame. My apologies, Julia.
[Just a reminder, I'm participating in NaBloPoMo for November. Are you?]
Nutella is the food of the gods. Of this I am nearly certain. And I'm only nearly certain because I don't know if these mythical gods (not God--I personally make a distinction) we speak of actually eat. But if they do, I'm sure they sustain themselves on Nutella.
But alas, I am not a mythical semi-powerful being. Therefore, I need more than Nutella to keep my body going.
Sad, I know. But it's okay--I like to eat other things, too. My ultimate last meal is probably pretty ridiculous and should I someday become a fancy-dancy food critic (pshhhh), my credibility will be washed away when some sneaky journalist Googles me, finds this post and shares it with the world. Because in fantasies like these (where I'm a fancy-dancy food critic, or a spy, or a schoolteacher) there's always someone trying to bring you down. Just like the movies.
I digress. My ultimate last meal. First thing's first, it's gotta have asparagus. And corn. Because YUM. Actually, roasted asparagus and potatoes. With rosemary, basil and thyme. And then corn on the side. Maybe that could be grilled and shucked off the husk. I'll leave that to you because, well, if this is my last meal then by golly someone else is cooking it for me. Might as well be you.
But I need some kind of protein. And more starches. Carbs don't matter if it's your last meal. As far as protein goes, I'm torn between hot dogs and a pulled pork sandwich. Seriously, I love hot dogs. As a kid, we'd go to Hoss's and I'd get a hot dog every. single. time. Even though mom made them for me at home, too. I loved them. I still love them, but now I get ones that are either turkey or the all-beef ones. Nathan's, specifically. Yum. As for the pulled pork. I can't explain it, but I love it.
Where was I? Oh, right. Starches. Carbs yummy yummy. I love rice. I remember my Nana making me rice for breakfast when I was 11 or 12 and I was staying with her in Florida. Gosh, I haven't thought about that for a long time. She spoiled me. She let me eat breakfast in her recliner in front of the TV that day. It was great. Minute rice with butter and salt. Yeah, I'd want that. But because I've grown up a little bit more, I'd like it to at least be jasmine rice. A little healthier than the Minute variety.
I may not be a mythical being but I love Nutella a lot, so it would definitely be the cherry on the top of this meal. Specifically, these Nutella Chocolate Chip cookies I made last night. Pretty good, if I do say so myself. And by "pretty good" I mean "oh my gosh it tastes like heaven." And for good measure, I'd probably just put a big ol' heaping spoonful of Nutella on top of the cookie.
So there you have it. Roasted asparagus and potatoes, grilled corn, hot dogs/pulled pork, white rice and Nutella cookies. I'm currently reading Julia Child's "My Life in France" and am 99% sure she's looking down on me with shame. My apologies, Julia.
[Just a reminder, I'm participating in NaBloPoMo for November. Are you?]
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
1. Writing.
So here I am. Blogging all month long. First prompt: "What is your favorite part about writing?"
Writing is funny. It is easily my favorite, and least favorite thing to do. I spoke to 1st and 2nd graders at a career fair (I KNOW RIGHT) a few weeks ago and told them that my love of writing is what got me into public relations, and eventually into my current position. Most of what I do is writing. Most of what I do, I like.
Writing is great because it's kind of like putting together a puzzle. You have all of these thoughts and ideas and (sometimes) quotes and then you pull them all together and when it works, it works. It flows and paints a picture or conveys your ideas or convinces without being too overbearing.
But that puzzle aspect is also what makes writing not so great. No shoving in things that you just. want. to. make. work. Even if you try to hide it really well, someone's still going to notice that something about the puzzle just isn't right. That works for writing, too. So it takes me an extra-long time to write things, because I hate when they're off. Even by a little bit.
I guess what I'm saying is, writing is a fickle fickle mistress (mister?). I love him and I hate him, and that's my favorite part about him.
(Favorite part about writing this post, though? The wikipedia entry for "mistress" which produced this gem: "The 'Pool Boy' is the most general male role of a 'male mistress,' or at times the 'Fitness Trainer' or 'Tennis Instructor.' Some people may even refer to this as a 'mastress.'" LOL)
Writing is funny. It is easily my favorite, and least favorite thing to do. I spoke to 1st and 2nd graders at a career fair (I KNOW RIGHT) a few weeks ago and told them that my love of writing is what got me into public relations, and eventually into my current position. Most of what I do is writing. Most of what I do, I like.
Writing is great because it's kind of like putting together a puzzle. You have all of these thoughts and ideas and (sometimes) quotes and then you pull them all together and when it works, it works. It flows and paints a picture or conveys your ideas or convinces without being too overbearing.
But that puzzle aspect is also what makes writing not so great. No shoving in things that you just. want. to. make. work. Even if you try to hide it really well, someone's still going to notice that something about the puzzle just isn't right. That works for writing, too. So it takes me an extra-long time to write things, because I hate when they're off. Even by a little bit.
I guess what I'm saying is, writing is a fickle fickle mistress (mister?). I love him and I hate him, and that's my favorite part about him.
(Favorite part about writing this post, though? The wikipedia entry for "mistress" which produced this gem: "The 'Pool Boy' is the most general male role of a 'male mistress,' or at times the 'Fitness Trainer' or 'Tennis Instructor.' Some people may even refer to this as a 'mastress.'" LOL)
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