(I love how I've taken the initiative to refer to Joanna Goddard on a first-name basis, but I feel so akin to her I can't resist.)
I think I'm going to do this at BYU one of these days...stay tuned. I really hope the rent-a-cops on their bikes don't take them, but that would be a really huge metaphorical social statement in and of itself, wouldn't it!
Leave a comment for where you think I should leave two disposable cameras (on BYU campus) to do this...
I've always been intrigued with the irony of fire escapes.
They're morbid for making you think about potential emergency situations, yet scream romance (cue 'Moon River' and other fire escape movie scenes).
Archaically antique, yet practical even in the most progressive of places.
I know it's already been done, but one day when I get really good at photography I want to walk around various cities and photograph fire escapes.
If only I were as enlightened as Will in his study break, where he waxed poetic about these urban wonders (yeah, I know, that's what he writes on a study break...I should really just quit).
Today was Rex Lee Run "race day" (I snicker at that phrase like I do at "training"), where I ran the 10K.
Of course there were your average Provo Zoobies (guys checking the FP of their girlfriends/fiances/wives),
those manorexic, anemic-looking cross-country-for-life'ers who have thighs the size of my arms,
and a small but noteworthy percentage of cool-looking girls and guys (too bad we were all jamming too intently to our iPods to chat).
Then circa mile 4.3 there was a girl running solo like me who turned and we exchanged sweet runner nothings along the lines of "You're doing great"... sweetheart.
I would say the hardest part was looping back around with the 5K-ers at the end because many were walking and my legs were begging to do the same.
However, the Fray's "You Found Me"came on and I can honestly say I sprinted the last 0.2 mile for a finish time of 1 hour, 1 minute and 25 seconds.
Not bad for someone who used to detest running, and STILL DOESN'T GET RUNNER'S HIGH. And so, with my new runner entitlement, I pen an open letter to endorphins, who have yet to come out of my mind's hibernation (extinction?):
Dear Endorphins,
As Bob in What About Bob said - "I'm doing the work, I'm babystepping, I'm not a slacker!" - I TOO am putting in some pavement time. And mind you, my steps are not babysteps as I'm just shy of 6 feet tall. So needless to say, it's ABOUT TIME you showed up. "Gimme, gimme, I need, I need,"
As much as fashion is intriguing and escapist, when it all comes down to the masses it reaches the wearable function phase.
But in France, everything and anything goes...
The Sartorialist (see his blog for fabu beyond fabu photos) was in Paris for the fall fashion shows, so thus he posted on-the-street shots of French women- the originators of chic.
How much would you a) love to be in Paris right now b) love to be wearing that coat and c) love the fact that you'd only be second-glanced at by an American photographer in it?
I'm a SoCal native, which makes my soul food Mexican food, just like gumbo to a New Orlean native or barbeque to a Texan.
Thus, I've been on a refried bean kick lately.
It's the strangest thing. I must be my tribute to the recession gods.
Lindsey thinks it's hilarious, but as a SoCal native, she understands completely, and when I told my sister about what I've been eating lately she told me it sounded "really goood" (yeah, her dining hall food options include quinoa, edamame and fresh peaches in the dead of winter- I retorted that she was ridiculous).
Regardless, I've lately been feeling disgustingly indulgent dining out after I get on NY Times and read all the depressing (pun intended) stories...
which gets me to thinking about my grandpa who grew up in small town Utah during the Depression and has stories about rationing eggs...
so I figure this is my recession-era food story I'll tell my own grandchildren one day. i.e. "Back in the Obama years when we drove these things called 'cars' to get around and people read newspapers..."
So here's what I do: I'll buy a pack of 16 Rosarita refried bean cans for about $10 at Costco...
also, while you're at Costco, pick up a thing of Parmigiano Reggiano and marinated sun-dried tomatoes (shh, I know that doesn't exactly sound recession-like, but buying in bulk is!)
All I do is I open a can, put in some cheese (highly recommend parmesan, but cheddar works too) and sundried tomato, nuke it in the micro for a few minutes and voila, a meal.
(It just occurred to me- not only is this easy on the wallet but it's also a fusion of Mexican meets Italian. Economic crises have never been so sophisticated.)
So needless to say, it's filling, healthy, delicious...and your stomach's economic best friend.
My roomie Rindsey is forever annoyed by the Provo Indie-hipsters...Read this post.
I agree with her on the hygiene elitism part.
There is NO EXCUSE for bad hygiene in the 21st century (see this post where I wax longingly for hygienic Germans).
And vintage clothes are cool and eco-friendly...but you must still WASH THEM: No one is too cool for Tide.
I repeat, no one is too cool for Tide.
Thanks.
Well, I read this on Courtney's blog and was stupefied on how broad the Hipster movement is...
Hmm, that could make the east coast a problem for me, no offense to EC'ers, I looove your coast but some of your fellow Yankees fall behind the hygiene curve. (And that was not a NYY reference, Sox fans)
is it your old buildings, charming as they are? abundance of insufficient plumbing? proximity to the Euros who rub off more of their deodorant-less selves on you than West Coasters (based on sheer distance decay theory)?
DON'T BE OFFENDED-- I'm just brainstorming what even my mom has been stupefied over since her EC collegiate days.
Case in point, I was working out at the NYU gym last summer and I swear, the kid next to me
a) had not showered in 3 long days b) was wearing a shirt he had previously sweated in (the moldy re-sweat smell) c) made many people move away from where he was and d) was oblivious to a, b and c.
For example, I thought this was a very dignified response to what is being disrespectfully exploited on Big Love.
For elites of the film industry to claim they're tolerant, then rashly show things we regard as sacred, is maddeningly disrespectful.
For example, it's like if you approached a Muslim woman and demanded she remove her hajib because, oh I don't know, you were curious to see what she looked like...regardless of reason, it's just so offensive! The amount of hajib a woman covers herself with is a personal decision, and we should all respect that woman for covenanting with Allah in the way she has decided!
Go here if you'd like to give HBO feedback. It takes two seconds.
I didn't weep and rail on them, I simply just said that I find their exploitations offensive and intolerant.
Many of you have asked me how my 'training' is coming.
Welp, despite the fact I've actually put on weight (presumably...I don't own a scale)...due to the fact that running gives you an appetite (who knew?!) and that I have the most substantial calluses on my feet since my volleyball days...
it's going well, thank you.
So my favorite tracks to run to? I've decided it's a mixture of bad-ass rap, cheeky girl pop and sexy dance music....
but more than Cut Copy, more than Goldfrapp, more than Fiddy or Eminem...
I am not ashamed to admit The Pussycat Dolls are my favorite to run to.
And of course, no run is complete without some Calabria (I pretend I'm dancing in Spain again).
And of course, having Akon tell you that you're beautiful and that he wants to make love right now as you hawk loogies on the sidewalk (did I mention I'm still kinda sick from Boston?) isn't so painful either.
...but the German language is harder and not as practical.
Regardless, I'm really obsessed with la culture francaise, so obsessed that for graduation I'm not asking for jewelry nor a boob job (JK- but it's commonplace where I come from!)... but Rosetta Stone's to learn French.
I am in love with Paris (even though it's a far scarier place in Taken than say, Mumbai in Slumdog Millionaire...)
I could sit on the Champs-Elysees all day.
I even know where I would live: ideally near the Jardin Luxembourg and the Musee Rodin, close to the cafe culture and nightlife of Montparnasse and the Latin Quarter of the left bank.
Especially after reading this: 5 surprises about living in Paris (I want to be her). For the record #3, 4, and 5 are presumably universal if you live in Europe- I say that based on my living experiences in Spain, where I did not blow dry my hair, frequently took cold showers (tepid at warmest, in a box-sized shower no less)...and well, the food in Spain is uninspiringly bland so I can't really speak much for the cheddar cheese one.
I could ramble on and on how utterly tactless I think the flamboyant BYUSA elections are, (Honor Code standard flamboyant, don't worry)....
(Basically I'm forever disgruntled my soon-to-be alma mater will never have a free press...and no BYUSA'er would ever touch that with a 10-foot chastity pole...)
...but anyway, instead of channeling negative energy into rants, I will link to this brilliant satirical post a la Jordan at The Gripload.
Go VOTE. Personally, I think you should exercise your deceptively 'free BYU agency' (it's free everywhere outside this paranoid bubble) and do whatever you please.
I heard one chirpy campaigner this morning urging a Cougar co-ed to vote because it would be "the only time your vote will actually count..."
1. Right now I am thinking about…the future and how fun it's going to be as I figure out more things that make me happy and do more traveling and experience more people. Basically, yay for being 21. 2. Love is…great, I suppose, when it's mutually genuine and loyal. 3. My first real kiss…was about time. 4. My last kiss was…drama-ridden. 5. Marriage is…eternal in ways that I have yet to comprehend. 6. I am listening to...Lily Allen's song "22" and hoping girls don't take it seriously. 7. I'll always be grateful for...my family- for always making mortality an optimistic probation. 8. I love…to be in bed. 9. I talk…only when I think I have something to contribute. 10. My best friend(s)…are always organically changing. 11. When I wake up in the morning…I piss excellence. (Talladega Nights- classic) 12. Before I go to bed…set 2 alarms, drink peppermint tea and listen to a special playlist. 13. Today I…had lunch with two girlfriends who are my same age and married. I'm excited for all of us. 14. Tomorrow I will be…snowboarding and then snuggling in bed with this book. 15. I really want to be…someone who shows others their importance. Maybe that's futile, but I hope in my spheres of influence, it somehow won't be.
Although, I confess... I'm still warming up to JT...
I know, I'm probably the last girl on the planet.
But I've heard from a few former skeptics like me that all it takes is going to one of his concerts and then you pretty much want to have his babies. Yes? No? comments...
I always kind of rolled my eyeballs at people who would say they were 'training' for something. ... I always thought "train" had some sort of silly stamp of elitism attached to it's connotation...
...like "dining" versus "eating"...
Why not just use average-joe wording like you're going to "practice" or "lift"?
But now, I am taking full license to use this word. Yes, folks, I'm TRAINING for a half-marathon May 9. How the tides shift.
Now, all my hours of sweat at the gym (aka training) are not only helping my fit-factor, but actually going to help me achieve a physically-based feat.
All my life, I've been a self-deprecating goal setter: If I set one and fulfilled it, I discounted my achievements by reasoning the goal had been a measly one in the first place and I should have set a higher bar...which would spiral me into making really lunatic goals that were thus, not met.
Needless to say, goal-setting has always been a lose-lose situation for me.
I have also battled a lot of body-image problems and disordered eating patterns (mostly in my adolescence), so after making a huge step to recover a few years ago, I thought I could never throw myself into the loop of making a physically-based challenge for myself...like, ever.
But when I was casually asked by my cousin if I would do it last weekend, I felt in such a state of peace (and let's face it, boredom) that I think this will be a very neat thing to do.
I would love to cut the 'spiritual' bull that all the celebs use to reason for their crazy fitness routines, but I really do think it will be a spiritual experience to go through.
I hope I have a nice therapeutic cry at the end...because this upcoming feat will show me that I can not only make and achieve goals, but it will be a huge stride forward to crediting myself for all the unpleasant havoc I've been through.
Although, in this case, the training has been pleasant.
So bring on the miles.
They'll in turn, prepare me for the many forthcoming ones.
Disclaimer: no innuendo is intended in the following post.
I think life would be tremendously more enjoyable if I had a bed I could take everywhere with me.
But seriously, like movie theaters... classes... church?
Sometimes I don't like going to the movies because I'd rather be horizontal to enjoy them. And sometimes when I'm sitting in a great lecture, I'll think to myself, "Gee, this would be so much better received if I had a bed to lay on right now." And well, I think three hours of church would be grand with a bed to listen from.
And it's not so I could have an excuse to fall asleep or nap everywhere: I just think beds are the most comfortable creations in the world and for someone who is 5' 11", standing takes work. If I stand or sit for too long my back and neck get sore and tired- there is more of me to hold up than the average person!
I also rarely use my desk. I'm incapable of doing homework sitting up- being in bed makes it less painful! And reading is so much more pleasurable when you're snuggled in bed! And, don't worry, I'm definitely guilty of eating meals in bed too!
My mom and I once reminisced in agreement over all aforementioned points: is it so bad that we just love being in bed?!
That being said, I also think it's perfectly socially acceptable to put clean laundry on your bed, then lay in it until you get to folding it later.
I spent the first half of 2010 exploring the Peter Pan complex, literally and figuratively, in New Zealand and Hawaii.
I graduated college.
Now I live in downtown New York City, in the nexus of the world.
Contact me at burntmustard at gmail dot com.
