Critters. If they are in their space, fine. But once they get into my turf, it is SO not fine. The past 24 hours have been critter-tastic in my apartment, and I am not okay with it.
As you know from the adventures of Rupert & Wanda, spiders have always been the top of my to-eliminate list. Or, more like the to-let-others-eliminate-for-me list. However, now that I've moved into my own apartment, I find myself lacking in macho men to squish my least-favorite friends. I live in a basement, so the population of spiders down here is not favorable at all. The first few weeks here were real rough. However, I can say that I have toughened up. I have pretty much discarded my belief that upon killing a spider it will reincarnate to 3 times its size, find me, and eat me. In fact, I have killed more spiders in the past 4 months than I have in my entire lifetime, and can now do it with only a slight twist of the stomach and the little scardy-dance. Except for the time I got one with my hands in a tissue, and when I squeezed, something cracked. I felt it and heard it. AHH. No more hand-killing for me. So for the really big, ugly ones, I have chosen to co-exist with them. I let them stay and spin their webs into corners, and then they'll leave, and I don't know where to, and I'm okay with it. So really, the existence of nasty spiders serve as the undertone for the rest of this entry, because they are everywhere.
First, a moth entered my apartment and has been following me around since yesterday. I first found it in the shower, and then I got out and went to my room and it was there, perched beside my bed. Wake in the morning, still there. Back from work, still there. To the shower, now it's there, hanging out and taking in the steam with me. Out of the shower, back to the room. Moth is back in the room. I seriously think this moth is tailing me. Does this mean I have a moth pet? I'll name it Mandy.
Only now has it occurred to me to see if the is actually two moths that haven't moved in two days. It is. So, that story just died. Can we just pretend I have a moth friend named Mandy who thinks I'm awesome? Okay, thanks.
Tonight, I was sipping on my vino and thoroughly enjoying the premiere of So You Think You Can Dance, I started hearing strange sounds from my kitchen area. Like someone grinding teeth. After checking for a dripping sink or something falling over in the fridge, I ignored it. And then it appeared. Only for a second, but long enough for me to know. A mouse. A tiny, 3-inch mouse, alternating taking refuge from under my minifridge and between my oven and the wall. Cue freak-out. After leaving a message with my landlady, I wasn't sure what to do. Taking some bad advice, and thinking that it was worth a shot, I laid out a trail of breadcrumbs from the mouse's hiding spot to the door, and then sat with the door open, hoping to lure it out. After about 3 minutes, I realized this was a terrible idea for many reasons: a) There is no way this mouse would follow a long trail, in the light, with a human present, all the way out the door. b) I was letting in a gazillion bugs, and c) I now had a trail of bread crumbs on my kitchen floor that I have to clean up. Bad idea all around. Even my supportive mother laughed at my attempt. "You're not dealing with Hansel & Gretel here," she told me. Got it, mom.
So I'm thinking to myself, we're geting some traps in here tomorrow morning, so I only have to deal with the mystery of the wandering mouse for one night. It's not going to hurt me and will most likely lurk in dark corners anyway, so I'm not really bothered by it. Then my land lady told me, "well, if it's that small, that probably means there's a momma mouse somewhere." Okay, more bothered. Aaaand look, there's a mouse turd on my sheets. Awesome. Definitely bothered.
And just to top it off, as I am washing my sheets, I just chased down a mosquito in my bedroom that was, no joke, the size of a half-dollar. I no doubt let it in during the bread crumb debauchery. At first I thought it was a daddy-long-leg bouncing from a web on the ceiling it was so big. Thankfully he didn't last long--his size greatly effected his agility to escape the wrath of my sandal. Sucker. Literally. Get it?!
I wish I was joking about all this. But I'm not. I'm off to bed, where I'll probably be cuddling with a mouse all night. Sweet dreams, everyone! Considering my track record, the bed bugs will probably bite tonight me tonight. Hope they stay away from you.
MONDAY (5/30) NOTE: We're having so much fun already, why not add a grasshopper? Again, wish I was kidding. And this guy is way too fast for me to catch. Guess he's gonna join the party. Maybe they are forming some kind of secret society like in A Bug's Life...
26 May 2011
A Night at the Building Museum, Part II
This is cross-posted on the Dance Exchange blog. Check it out.
[Continued from Part I]
Inspiration shows up whether we know it or not, for all forms of art. Of course in choreography, inspiration leads us to create movement, spacing, picking music, and so on. In an improvisational situation, however, inspiration is much more immediate. In the Building Museum, we drew on the shapes we saw and created in the space to create movement. It was a constant conversation of bodies to bodies, bodies to corners, bodies to walls, and so on. What we saw and felt there at that time was what instigated thoughts and movements—and that constant search for inspiration kept us moving.
Risk exists particularly strongly in improvisation, for so much of it is in the unknown. At the Museum, I felt as though the stakes of risk were the highest I had ever experienced. Not only was I in an unfamiliar space with people I had not danced with before, but the environment was full of surprises. I shared dancing space in very close proximity with fragile elements—glasses, noses, fancy clothes. Thus, I found my spacial awareness as well as my awareness of my own clumsiness on high alert, careful not to knock over a tray of mini quiches or step on the trail of an $800 gown. Definitely not the usual concerns I have during a performance, but it was a fascinating challenge as it unfolded. (And yes, I made it through without injuring any party guests or their spiffy attire!).
As Rockwell elaborated on the temporary nature of his projects that moved from place to place, I thought of dance in context of as a performing art. Dance is temporary in its essence as a performing art. Like music or theater, dance exists when it is physically being created and practiced. When the practice ends, the art ends. As opposed to visual arts like painting and ceramics, which creates a product that is visitable, preservable, and tangible, no one can hold dance in their hands to keep forever. I think that’s part of what makes it so organic and authentic, and why so many people can experience such emotional reactions to it. When it is present, we can enjoy it fully in. And, as was reiterated for me that night at the Building Museum, dance can happen anywhere, at anytime, with anyone.
Exploration is at the core of modern dance and improvisation. We explore the possibilities of our bodies, the space, and the interactions that come about by bringing all these elements into our dance as a whole. And it’s at the core of every art form—creating something is a never ending journey of discovery and questioning.
I love that Rockwell used the word “play”—it reminded me that freedom and happiness are a huge part of creating anything. And that we don’t have to take everything seriously all the time. Realizing how interchangeable these elements are between two seemingly separated approaches to art was one of my favorite parts of the night. It gave me a big surge of happiness and a desire to play with my creativity. So, with his conclusion, it was off to energize the dance floor with party guests—and play we did.
Here are some clips of us in action:
20 May 2011
A Night at the Building Museum: Notes from an evening of improvisation, Part I
With my new post as intern/apprentice at the Liz Lerman Dance Exchange (yes, it's kind of a big deal), I am finding myself in some awesome dance situations with some pretty talented people. Not to mention that I've met Liz Lerman a couple times and share a desk space just a few feet from her. Not kidding. *Star struck*. So, when a Dance Exchange company member was desperate for dancers for a site-specific improvisation at the National Building Museum, I jumped at the chance. Performance opportunity? Check. Site specific in a ridiculously gorgeous building that's a national gem? Check. Affiliation with an internationally renowned company? Check. Chance to meet fellow local dancers? Check. Free dinner? Check. Hell yes, I'm in.
It was a super awesome experience so I naturally went to town with blog-ness. It was so long we had to break it up into two parts, but here's how it all began ...
The following is cross-posted on the Dance Exchange Blog. They're doing some pretty cool stuff, I would browse around if I were you.
Tuxedos. Floor-length gowns. Cocktails. Hors d’oeuvres. Draped tables. And … wait? Is that a barefoot dancer over there?
Last night, I joined six other dancers in a site-specific improvisational commission at the National Building Museum’s annual Honor Award Gala. It was a spontaneous performance for many of us—I myself found out about it a mere two hours beforehand—but it quickly became one of my most beautiful and memorable dancing experiences.
Totally unaware of the splendor of the Building Museum before this event, I found myself breathless when I first walked in. If you’ve never been to the National Building Museum, get yourself there as soon as possible, and be sure to bring your camera. Seriously. Opening itself to a majestic floor-to-ceiling lobby almost the size of a football field across and 75 feet up, the space is divided by enormous ornate columns—some of the largest in the world. Look up and twirl around and you’ll see the lobby lined with the buildings floors, fringed by arced décor that reminds of St. Marc’s basilica in Venice.
As the cast made our way up, down, and around to get acquainted with the building, Dance Exchange company member Sarah Levitt explained that our task for the evening was to transition guests from one segment of the evening to the next through improvisation. In our improvisation, she continued, we should make relationships with each other and the architecture and shapes of the edges, structures, and elements of the space. “This space is so amazing that really anything will look interesting,” she said in awe of the marbled columns and spanning Great Hall. No argument on that one, Sarah. I could tell immediately that a space like that was a dream for a dancer, especially in improvisation. I was so excited! Not only were we going to be able to use our bodies to explore the incredible architecture itself, but splashes of luminescent purple and green fabrics draped carefully as backdrops, artfully constructed plates of food, and a giant pyramid-shaped projector hanging from the ceiling were going to be part of our performance space. Oh, and hundreds of people dressed as if they were walking the red carpet.
One of the (many) things I love about modern dance is that it is easily removed from a recognizable dance environment and dropped right in the middle of pretty much any situation. In my days I’ve danced around benches along the street, on the quad of my college campus, and even around trees and mailboxes along a street in Italy. Among party guests at the most glamorous event I’ve ever been to? That was a new one for sure. It was going to be a whole new ball game for me. Challenge accepted!
Following a loose structure of spacing and theme for movement, we began the evening of improvisation by slithering our selves through the crowd of mingling guests, who spilled out of a cocktail room into the hallway during the first part of the event—a cocktail hour. We slowly stacked ourselves in a line through the crowd, creating and shifting into shapes by relating to each other and the space. With surprised and curious reactions from party guests, we made our around and in between the conversations with shape-inspired movement. Eventually we moved our way to corners and gaps in space in the hallway and in the party room, continuing to improvise with the space. As guests became more familiar with turning a corner to see a dancer along their path to the bar, we eventually became a part of the scenery that people seemed to enjoy. Personally I received a few confused looks, but also many smiles, questions, and even a couple high fives as I struck a pose with a raised arm and flat (and apparently slappable!) hand. I even had a few party guests imitate me as I twirled, posed, and spiraled my way past them, all in a fun and lively spirit.
Eventually, it was our task to help lead guests towards and down the stairs to the next part of the evening taking place in the lobby. Using gathering and directional gestures, we helped point guests towards the stairs, and draped ourselves along the stairwell as they descended into the Great Hall. We then welcomed the group into the lobby with joyful improvisation before we faded away to allow the evening’s official festivities to begin.
Our next appearance helped encourage guests to take their seats, we formed a festive structure called a second line, in which we followed behind a few horn-players from the evening’s New Orleans-style jazz band. Moving away from the abstract movement we know and love, we brought out the jazz hands, swinging legs, and sugar walks to capture the changed and elated energy of the live musicians interrupting the quiet mingling. As we boogied to the staccato jazz, we each carried a few pieces of blue foam-like blocks in all shapes and sizes, taken from a work-in-progress structure of piled shapes. We had taken them from an abstract structure sitting in the backdrop of the Great Hall (the evening’s keynote speaker explained later that these were pieces from a playground constructed in a devastated neighborhood as a part of a commissioned architectural project). After making our rounds, we playfully added our pieces to the structure and moved about the shapes, engaging in the parts and the whole as it came together.
Our last task was to encourage guests to enjoy the jazz band on the dance floor, as we were the first on the floor with snaps and claps, eventually bringing some guests to come enjoy the music with us. Once we got the group boogying, we left them to it and called it a night.
Part II will a elaborate on the evening’s keynote address about elements of play, which beautifully parallel concepts of dance. Plus, I’ll post some video clips of us dancers in action!
It was a super awesome experience so I naturally went to town with blog-ness. It was so long we had to break it up into two parts, but here's how it all began ...
The following is cross-posted on the Dance Exchange Blog. They're doing some pretty cool stuff, I would browse around if I were you.
Tuxedos. Floor-length gowns. Cocktails. Hors d’oeuvres. Draped tables. And … wait? Is that a barefoot dancer over there?
Last night, I joined six other dancers in a site-specific improvisational commission at the National Building Museum’s annual Honor Award Gala. It was a spontaneous performance for many of us—I myself found out about it a mere two hours beforehand—but it quickly became one of my most beautiful and memorable dancing experiences.
Totally unaware of the splendor of the Building Museum before this event, I found myself breathless when I first walked in. If you’ve never been to the National Building Museum, get yourself there as soon as possible, and be sure to bring your camera. Seriously. Opening itself to a majestic floor-to-ceiling lobby almost the size of a football field across and 75 feet up, the space is divided by enormous ornate columns—some of the largest in the world. Look up and twirl around and you’ll see the lobby lined with the buildings floors, fringed by arced décor that reminds of St. Marc’s basilica in Venice.
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| (photo by Daniel Zook) |
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| (photo by Daniel Zook) |
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| (photo by Daniel Zook) |
Eventually, it was our task to help lead guests towards and down the stairs to the next part of the evening taking place in the lobby. Using gathering and directional gestures, we helped point guests towards the stairs, and draped ourselves along the stairwell as they descended into the Great Hall. We then welcomed the group into the lobby with joyful improvisation before we faded away to allow the evening’s official festivities to begin.
Our next appearance helped encourage guests to take their seats, we formed a festive structure called a second line, in which we followed behind a few horn-players from the evening’s New Orleans-style jazz band. Moving away from the abstract movement we know and love, we brought out the jazz hands, swinging legs, and sugar walks to capture the changed and elated energy of the live musicians interrupting the quiet mingling. As we boogied to the staccato jazz, we each carried a few pieces of blue foam-like blocks in all shapes and sizes, taken from a work-in-progress structure of piled shapes. We had taken them from an abstract structure sitting in the backdrop of the Great Hall (the evening’s keynote speaker explained later that these were pieces from a playground constructed in a devastated neighborhood as a part of a commissioned architectural project). After making our rounds, we playfully added our pieces to the structure and moved about the shapes, engaging in the parts and the whole as it came together.
Our last task was to encourage guests to enjoy the jazz band on the dance floor, as we were the first on the floor with snaps and claps, eventually bringing some guests to come enjoy the music with us. Once we got the group boogying, we left them to it and called it a night.
Part II will a elaborate on the evening’s keynote address about elements of play, which beautifully parallel concepts of dance. Plus, I’ll post some video clips of us dancers in action!
10 May 2011
America, the beautiful?
When I heard the news that Osama bin Laden was dead, I was scared and confused. My mind was swimming with fear of retaliation and questions of what this meant for the war on terror and our troops overseas. Trying to wrap my mind around the news, I quickly turned to CNN and listened intently to fill in the blanks that Twitter and Facebook statuses did not include. Soon, coverage shifted from the newsrooms to DC streets, showing people literally run towards a quickly growing crowd in front of the White House cheering “U-S-A!”.
Living in DC, it would have been easy for me to hop the metro to Pennsylvania Avenue to join what looked like half of the city in cheers. However, I was in no state of mind to celebrate. In fact, as I watched crowds of people pour onto the streets, my confusion deepened. Utter joy and patriotism over a death? I was shocked. It seemed so unnatural.
No argument here that the world is better off without Osama bin Laden— he was a monster. However, I don’t think any death, no matter who or under what circumstance, should be what brings a country together. I’m scared that we reacted in a comparable way to crowds in the Middle East who cheered as airplanes flew into the twin towers ten years ago. For me, that was the most twisted part of that unforgettable day ten years ago.
A more somber reaction to Osama bin Laden’s death would have served us much better in the eyes of the international community, for the sake of our foreign relations and for the sake of each other. Instead of feeling patriotic, I feel disappointed in America. I feel we’ve lost some of our dignity by showcasing to the world this kind of reaction—dignity that we are already working so hard to uphold.
I was also unsettled that many were declaring this event as the "end to the war on terror." That is a dangerous perspective for us to have, and worries me that we were too easily blind-sighted by the significance of bin Laden's death that we temporarily lost sight of the bigger picture. Thankfully, we're now hearing less talk of this as an end and more of as a means to an end and a point of transition for the war on terror, which I can agree with whole-heartedly. Though it's been said that al-Queda doesn't have the "smarts" to continue to carry out bin Laden's ideas as harshly, he does have a strong following who I have no doubt that we are making very angry right now. So, we cannot have our guard down and appear easily distracted. I say let's relish in this significant"victory", but not lose sight of what true "victory" would actually be for America, and for the world. If one such true victory does exist. Does it?
In his official announcement of bin Laden's death, our President, who I greatly respect, stated that "justice has been done." This statement soon become headlining and historical, summing up to a whole in four words. Justice? Really? Is all right in the world now that Osama bin Laden is no longer living and breathing?
I know I cannot speak for those who lost family, friends, and coworkers on September 11th. I can only speak for those who, like me, lost their innocence and sense of security on that day, watching people jump from burning buildings from my middle school classroom and not quite understanding why. But bin Laden's menacing operations and disturbing desires are still haunting all of our lives in some way, so I am uneasy that we consider the demise of bin Laden as ‘justice’ for all suffering that was endured around the world.
Was this justice for bin Laden himself, though? Perhaps. I understand the operation carried out in Abottabad was with the purpose of eliminating bin Laden. I am still coming to terms with that whole concept of a justified murder in the hands of a government, which is odd because if I ask myself, "did he deserve it?", I answer with certainty, "yes." So, I'm not sure why I'm still thrown off a little by the government's actions. What I do know, however, is that I have deep respect for the individuals who carried out the orders--for their bravery, skill, and risk they put forth to do what they felt they needed to make the world a safer place. No matter my thoughts on military actions, of which I know I have little knowledge, my hat is always off to those who devote their lives to it.
Living in DC, it would have been easy for me to hop the metro to Pennsylvania Avenue to join what looked like half of the city in cheers. However, I was in no state of mind to celebrate. In fact, as I watched crowds of people pour onto the streets, my confusion deepened. Utter joy and patriotism over a death? I was shocked. It seemed so unnatural.
No argument here that the world is better off without Osama bin Laden— he was a monster. However, I don’t think any death, no matter who or under what circumstance, should be what brings a country together. I’m scared that we reacted in a comparable way to crowds in the Middle East who cheered as airplanes flew into the twin towers ten years ago. For me, that was the most twisted part of that unforgettable day ten years ago.
A more somber reaction to Osama bin Laden’s death would have served us much better in the eyes of the international community, for the sake of our foreign relations and for the sake of each other. Instead of feeling patriotic, I feel disappointed in America. I feel we’ve lost some of our dignity by showcasing to the world this kind of reaction—dignity that we are already working so hard to uphold.
I was also unsettled that many were declaring this event as the "end to the war on terror." That is a dangerous perspective for us to have, and worries me that we were too easily blind-sighted by the significance of bin Laden's death that we temporarily lost sight of the bigger picture. Thankfully, we're now hearing less talk of this as an end and more of as a means to an end and a point of transition for the war on terror, which I can agree with whole-heartedly. Though it's been said that al-Queda doesn't have the "smarts" to continue to carry out bin Laden's ideas as harshly, he does have a strong following who I have no doubt that we are making very angry right now. So, we cannot have our guard down and appear easily distracted. I say let's relish in this significant"victory", but not lose sight of what true "victory" would actually be for America, and for the world. If one such true victory does exist. Does it?
In his official announcement of bin Laden's death, our President, who I greatly respect, stated that "justice has been done." This statement soon become headlining and historical, summing up to a whole in four words. Justice? Really? Is all right in the world now that Osama bin Laden is no longer living and breathing?
I know I cannot speak for those who lost family, friends, and coworkers on September 11th. I can only speak for those who, like me, lost their innocence and sense of security on that day, watching people jump from burning buildings from my middle school classroom and not quite understanding why. But bin Laden's menacing operations and disturbing desires are still haunting all of our lives in some way, so I am uneasy that we consider the demise of bin Laden as ‘justice’ for all suffering that was endured around the world.
Was this justice for bin Laden himself, though? Perhaps. I understand the operation carried out in Abottabad was with the purpose of eliminating bin Laden. I am still coming to terms with that whole concept of a justified murder in the hands of a government, which is odd because if I ask myself, "did he deserve it?", I answer with certainty, "yes." So, I'm not sure why I'm still thrown off a little by the government's actions. What I do know, however, is that I have deep respect for the individuals who carried out the orders--for their bravery, skill, and risk they put forth to do what they felt they needed to make the world a safer place. No matter my thoughts on military actions, of which I know I have little knowledge, my hat is always off to those who devote their lives to it.
It's times like this when I turn to (reliable) news sources, blogs, and conversations with and by my peers for help in wrapping my mind around such a historial moment. Luckily for me, I spend my days fishing through news sources for my real job, so I am in no shortage of discussion. Also convenient for me, news has been all over young people (and vice-versa) involving Osama bin Laden's death, and what followed in the streets of America and college campuses.
It was pretty easy to notice the overwhelming majority of 20-somethings in celebrations all over the country (my tiny Ohioan alma mater even made an appearance on CNN), and the insurgence of young faces and voices has raised many eyebrows and theories in the media. From what 9/11 meant to us to retaliation against accused apathy of our generation, people are reaching for explanations for this reaction--and some of them, I think, got it. Maybe it's because I'm surrounded by news sources about young issues all the time these days, but this is the first time I can remember such a significant presence of young voices on a national issue in a long, long time. But I'm not complaining about that.
It was pretty easy to notice the overwhelming majority of 20-somethings in celebrations all over the country (my tiny Ohioan alma mater even made an appearance on CNN), and the insurgence of young faces and voices has raised many eyebrows and theories in the media. From what 9/11 meant to us to retaliation against accused apathy of our generation, people are reaching for explanations for this reaction--and some of them, I think, got it. Maybe it's because I'm surrounded by news sources about young issues all the time these days, but this is the first time I can remember such a significant presence of young voices on a national issue in a long, long time. But I'm not complaining about that.
This is obviously not done being talked about around the world for a long, long time, so I will continue to figure this out for myself with the help of comments, discussions, and op-eds that I stumble upon. In the meantime, despite my confusion in my patriotism and the pride we hold as a country, I just hope we can get ourselves together and move forward calmly and rationally so we can continue towards a true end to the all of the terror this world faces.
05 May 2011
Yes.
I will probably do an full blog piece in Llama one day. Get ready. In the meantime, enjoy being bored by other fonts for the rest of your life. And share with me your creations! What do you think is the best thing to write in Llama?
30 April 2011
Easy. Wonderful. VIP.
Let's start with the obvious. I love Guster. This is why.
As most of you already know, I've recently gained a SWEET "in" with the band, as their newest member, the spectacular Luke Reynolds, happens to be my cousin-in law (his first cousin is married to my sister). So my initial freak out about the whole situation of being connected has passed, and now I'm just totally pumped that I've been able to meet Guster a couple times, when I tried my best not to act completely crazy because I was beyond stoked. Was only partly successful, but I've gotten better now that I'm practiced at it. *Snooty*.
In addition to having rad music, Guster also likes the Earth. Their tour bus runs on Biofuel. Adam, their bass/trumpet player and singer extraordinaire, and his wife started an organization called Reverb a few years ago. It's a super cool nonprofit that teams up with bands on tour and educates fans about sustainable living. Reverb and Guster have helped lead the way in touring artists (Sheryl Crow! Maroon 5! Brett Dennen!) to promote sustainable living at shows, and do things like "Campus Consciousness" tours in which students can help out with promoting healthy living all around. I think it's really cool that they've used the popularity of music and power in crowds that come to shows for a good cause. So, when I saw that Reverb was looking for volunteers for the Guster show in Baltimore, I did not hesitate to fill out the application online. Three weeks later, I got a phone call from Reverb asking if I still wanted to volunteer! Not only would I be able to help them out, but I also got a free pass to the show, and could bring a friend with me. Perfecto!
So last night, my environmentally passionate cousin, who also happens to be a Guster fan, and I took Oliver on a ride to the hopping downtown of Baltimore. We were greeted at the door with our passes and joined three college kids in setting up this tour's project, a collaboration with Brita and Filter for Good. The campaign is about trying to reduce the consumption of plastic disposable water bottles, and encourage people to use safe and renewable canisters and drink filtered water. As volunteers, it was our job to ask people to sign the pledge to reduce/eliminate their use of crappy plastic bottles, and if they signed the pledge, they got a free (and adorable) nalgene bottle (BPA free) already conveniently filled with filtered water. And, we had a bunch of big Brita pitchers so people could come back and refill for free. Who doesn't like free water? Obviously nobody--the crowd was all over it. Hey, you gotta hydrate when you're screaming your lungs off while singing along!
The first part of the night was spent tabling, which, I must admit, I have gotten pretty good at. College clubs followed by an entire summer marketing at ADF trained me well--after a few minutes I've got my spiel and I'm not afraid to use it. So though I'm a little tired of saying "would you like to sign our pledge to reduce the use of plastic disposable bottles?", I'm grateful that I could spiel for a good cause. I also got to wear and keep a really nice Easy Wonderful/Reverb t-shirt that people were jealous of. We also got to keep the giant, brand new, and green (literally) Brita pitchers, which will come in handy later.
Cousin & I, tabling masters:
P.S. you can sign the Filter for Good pledge and check out some other seriously cool things on their website, like how to recycle Brita filters, which I did not know you could do. <-- Totally voluntary promotion. I like the Earth, too.
Though we tabled through the opener--we couldn't quite see Good Old War from our table, but we could hear them, and they rocked. Guster came on, and we got to go watch! They obviously put on an INCREDIBLE show. Probably one of the best I've seen. I'm telling you, I will never, ever, get sick of this. It blows me away every time. This would mark the eighth time I've seen them on stage (yeah ...), and I always enjoy it like it was that very first time I saw them six years ago in Buffalo. It also helped that we found a SWEET perch in the sold-out venue, in which I'm unsure if we were allowed. It may or may not have been a special tickets section ... but nobody stopped us, so we lucked out. Our view from the top center:
They are geniuses, hands down. Also fun. Ah. So good. They flowed into a cool remix of "Hang On" with a Billy Joel tune, and the band's percussionist, Brian "Thundergod" Rosenworcel, who was not graced with the gift of vocal accuracy, seranaded the audience with Red Hot Chili Peppers' "Under the Bridge." I got a video on my camera but it's shaky because I couldn't stop laughing. Today my voice is sore from screaming and my legs a little achy from the constant jamming, and I love it.
If the high from the amazing show wasn't enough, we got to top off our evening with a little VIP action. After the show, our volunteer passes got us into the after party in the private bar/room at Ram's Head Live. Yep, that means us + Guster + about 30 other fans/people with inside connections having a drink and mingling. I got a chance to catch up with Luke and we basked in our gene pool, as we were a mish-mash of cousins up in there. It was a family affair. I also got to introduce myself to the rest of the band again, and have them autograph our Brita pitchers. Brilliant, right?! Adam was incredibly friendly and smiley, and so grateful we volunteered for Reverb. He's also as handsome as ever. Gosh, can't stop swooning. Ryan scribbled a butterfly/bug on my pitcher, and a dead duck/turkey on my cousin's. We're still trying to figure it out. And I think my proudest moment was when we went over to say hey to Brian, before I had a chance to introduce myself, he looked at me and said, "you're Luke's cousin." Close enough. Done, I'm in!
As most of you already know, I've recently gained a SWEET "in" with the band, as their newest member, the spectacular Luke Reynolds, happens to be my cousin-in law (his first cousin is married to my sister). So my initial freak out about the whole situation of being connected has passed, and now I'm just totally pumped that I've been able to meet Guster a couple times, when I tried my best not to act completely crazy because I was beyond stoked. Was only partly successful, but I've gotten better now that I'm practiced at it. *Snooty*.
In addition to having rad music, Guster also likes the Earth. Their tour bus runs on Biofuel. Adam, their bass/trumpet player and singer extraordinaire, and his wife started an organization called Reverb a few years ago. It's a super cool nonprofit that teams up with bands on tour and educates fans about sustainable living. Reverb and Guster have helped lead the way in touring artists (Sheryl Crow! Maroon 5! Brett Dennen!) to promote sustainable living at shows, and do things like "Campus Consciousness" tours in which students can help out with promoting healthy living all around. I think it's really cool that they've used the popularity of music and power in crowds that come to shows for a good cause. So, when I saw that Reverb was looking for volunteers for the Guster show in Baltimore, I did not hesitate to fill out the application online. Three weeks later, I got a phone call from Reverb asking if I still wanted to volunteer! Not only would I be able to help them out, but I also got a free pass to the show, and could bring a friend with me. Perfecto!
So last night, my environmentally passionate cousin, who also happens to be a Guster fan, and I took Oliver on a ride to the hopping downtown of Baltimore. We were greeted at the door with our passes and joined three college kids in setting up this tour's project, a collaboration with Brita and Filter for Good. The campaign is about trying to reduce the consumption of plastic disposable water bottles, and encourage people to use safe and renewable canisters and drink filtered water. As volunteers, it was our job to ask people to sign the pledge to reduce/eliminate their use of crappy plastic bottles, and if they signed the pledge, they got a free (and adorable) nalgene bottle (BPA free) already conveniently filled with filtered water. And, we had a bunch of big Brita pitchers so people could come back and refill for free. Who doesn't like free water? Obviously nobody--the crowd was all over it. Hey, you gotta hydrate when you're screaming your lungs off while singing along!
The first part of the night was spent tabling, which, I must admit, I have gotten pretty good at. College clubs followed by an entire summer marketing at ADF trained me well--after a few minutes I've got my spiel and I'm not afraid to use it. So though I'm a little tired of saying "would you like to sign our pledge to reduce the use of plastic disposable bottles?", I'm grateful that I could spiel for a good cause. I also got to wear and keep a really nice Easy Wonderful/Reverb t-shirt that people were jealous of. We also got to keep the giant, brand new, and green (literally) Brita pitchers, which will come in handy later.
Cousin & I, tabling masters:
P.S. you can sign the Filter for Good pledge and check out some other seriously cool things on their website, like how to recycle Brita filters, which I did not know you could do. <-- Totally voluntary promotion. I like the Earth, too.
Though we tabled through the opener--we couldn't quite see Good Old War from our table, but we could hear them, and they rocked. Guster came on, and we got to go watch! They obviously put on an INCREDIBLE show. Probably one of the best I've seen. I'm telling you, I will never, ever, get sick of this. It blows me away every time. This would mark the eighth time I've seen them on stage (yeah ...), and I always enjoy it like it was that very first time I saw them six years ago in Buffalo. It also helped that we found a SWEET perch in the sold-out venue, in which I'm unsure if we were allowed. It may or may not have been a special tickets section ... but nobody stopped us, so we lucked out. Our view from the top center:
They are geniuses, hands down. Also fun. Ah. So good. They flowed into a cool remix of "Hang On" with a Billy Joel tune, and the band's percussionist, Brian "Thundergod" Rosenworcel, who was not graced with the gift of vocal accuracy, seranaded the audience with Red Hot Chili Peppers' "Under the Bridge." I got a video on my camera but it's shaky because I couldn't stop laughing. Today my voice is sore from screaming and my legs a little achy from the constant jamming, and I love it.
If the high from the amazing show wasn't enough, we got to top off our evening with a little VIP action. After the show, our volunteer passes got us into the after party in the private bar/room at Ram's Head Live. Yep, that means us + Guster + about 30 other fans/people with inside connections having a drink and mingling. I got a chance to catch up with Luke and we basked in our gene pool, as we were a mish-mash of cousins up in there. It was a family affair. I also got to introduce myself to the rest of the band again, and have them autograph our Brita pitchers. Brilliant, right?! Adam was incredibly friendly and smiley, and so grateful we volunteered for Reverb. He's also as handsome as ever. Gosh, can't stop swooning. Ryan scribbled a butterfly/bug on my pitcher, and a dead duck/turkey on my cousin's. We're still trying to figure it out. And I think my proudest moment was when we went over to say hey to Brian, before I had a chance to introduce myself, he looked at me and said, "you're Luke's cousin." Close enough. Done, I'm in!
 |
| BFF's. |
 |
| Gene pool. |
Conclusion: I'm friends with Guster. Luke is the coolest guy ever. I have a water pitcher that will be a valuable collectible someday. Music. Happiness.
All gimmicks aside, I'm really just grateful that I am able to tell the band how much I appreciate them and their music. Their songs represent so many happy things in my life and I had the chance to thank them in person, genuinely, for what they are doing. In a world of superficial fans and materialistic rewards, the opportunity to appreciate great art at this level is the opportunity of a lifetime.
Onward to the next Guster adventure in August, when they're back in Baltimore (with Jack's Mannequin)!
26 April 2011
At Least I Have Street Cred ... and a Snazzy Suit for April 27
This was originally posted on SparkAction.org, a journalism and youth advocacy online site. Please follow this link to leave comments. Thank you to all the websites, Twitter-ers, and blogs that picked this up!
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"The Millennial Generation (born 1980-2000) is the largest, most diverse, most open-minded, most tech-savvy, most eco-conscious generation in American history..."
We are?! Golly gee, thanks! I'm blushing.
When I first read that quote from Van Jones & Lindsay McCluskey's Huffington Post article Graduating Off a Cliff: The Millenial Generation's Fight for Its Future, I gave myself a little pat on the back. It was nice to hear my generation summed up with such compliments. So I kept reading:
"... Millennials are also the most unemployed, in debt and generally screwed over. Despite their desire to contribute to this country's greatness, Millennials may be the first generation in decades to face worse economic prospects than our parents and even grandparents."
Oh yeah, that. Well, at least I have some bragging rights, right? Do you think I could put my status as a Millennial on my resume? But no, really.
I must admit, it was refreshing to read about my generation's dilemma right there in black and white for everybody to see in this article. Take it from me: things are cut-throat out here in the job market. More than ever, where you end up relies more on luck of timing, place, and who you know than the degree and experience on your resume.
Considering the years of academic butt-kicking I have behind me, that is quite discouraging. And this is coming from a girl who was privileged to go to a decent public school district and then immediately to a four-year, private, prestigious university, so I know that my struggles only chip the tip of this massive iceberg. That's what worries me the most about this whole thing.
My mother usually has advice for everything, but even she couldn't help me out much with this "real world" crisis. I think this is true for many Millennials—our moms, dads, mentors, teachers,etc., entered the job market in an almost incomparably different market; even those older peers who graduated during past recessions or the dot com crash haven't seen it this bad, as recent data shows.
This crisis isn't just about income. Sure, we Millennials dream of the days we can be financially independent, and we'd love to see some money for investing and spending start to accumulate in our bank accounts. But our ambitions go beyond the dollars—they extend to a desire to contribute to the economy and help make America the strong, pride-worthy country that we once were. Amid the deficit, war and constant political battles, fundamental and physical infrastructures are falling slowly to pieces. Without jobs, we can't help our country rebuild.
As Jones and McCluskey say:
"Young people and students aren't asking for any special favors or handouts. They just want the same opportunities that the Baby Boomers and other previous generations had: The opportunity to work hard, get an education, make a living and give their kids a better life. In short, a chance to live the American Dream."
Okay, so, we're "screwed over" as Van Jones put it.
What now, then? What do we do about it?
In part, Millennials, we gotta take this on ourselves. This is new territory for everybody, and we have no choice but to charge into it. And when things don't work out, dust yourself off and try again (if you immediately started hearing Aaliyah's "Try Again" in your head after you read that, you're definitely a Millennial!) As Jones and McCluskey brag on our behalf (thanks, guys), this economic crisis has revealed the Millennials' steadfast attitude—and that we know how to persevere.
Young people have been speaking out more than ever, and it feels like the powers that be are really starting to listen. The Obama administration in particular has been taking young voices seriously, and allowing them a platform to interact with high-level officials who can actually get things done. I saw this firsthand at the National Youth Summit, an event run by the US Department of Education, which brought over 300 middle- and high-school students to Washington D.C. to share their concerns about education with White House and Department of Education staff, including the Secretary of Education Arne Duncan.
At the Summit, Duncan praised the proactive approach that students across the country are taking and said he hoped that we'll continue to mobilize to get our voices heard in a grassroots fashion (watch Alberto Retana, organizer of the Summit and Director of Community Outreach in the Department of Education, talk more about the White House's hopes for young voices in action here).
To keep the Summit from being a one-off, the White House has launched a "100 Youth Roundtables" initiative, which encourages young people to get together to talk about relevant issues with a promise that a White House official (maybe even President Obama himself) will make an appearance. They also regularly hold online town halls and live discussions on social media sites like Facebook.
This is not only in line with the technology-driven times; these are also actions that make participation accessible and appealing to my generation, tech-savvy (and tech-dependent) as we are. Screens, in all shapes and sizes, are how my generation gets our information and how we interact with each other. Whether or not you agree with what they're saying, the fact that our country's leadership—in the administration and in Congress—is using technology in innvoative ways is both refreshing and much-needed.
Heads Up: Briefcase Brigades!
So, we're putting our smarts to action and are ready to be taken seriously. The "perfect storm" of technology, economic crisis and young talent is leading to, among other things, some pretty creative protest.
On April 27, Millennials around the country will take part in a super cool, youth-led event called the Briefcase Brigades.
Now, Millennials can't get the credit for the whole idea of the Briefcase Brigades—an event in 1970 in which lawyers stormed Washington to argue President Nixon's decisions on the Vietnam War was coined with the same name. However, this is the first time that a Briefcase Brigade will take the form of a demonstration, and the suits will be worn by cleaned-up, young, unemployed Americans as a symbol of their readiness to be employed but disappointment that jobs are being cut.
I can just imagine how it will look: Millennials looking all fancy and professional as they demonstrate for jobs. It'll be a powerful a visual representation of what the economy is missing out on by having an under-employed Millennial generation.
And while the Brigade won't solve the fiscal problems that our nation is facing, it will make a statement and help ambitious, energetic young people make connections and get information to stay actively involved. It can spark some fresh new thought about what we need to do legislatively to invest in jobs and the future. Because guess what, America? We're all going to have to take action. The Millennial generation IS your future. Ready or not, here we come. And we're armed ... with briefcases.
Get all the details on the Briefcase Brigade on the official website and prepare to get super excited about the event from this "trailer":
Note: If you've been paying attention to the date, The Briefcase Brigades are tomorrow. I'll be there looking fancy with camcorder in hand, in hopes of talking to some fellow Millennials about their plans to attack this job crisis with grace and smarts. Here's my follow-up!
20 April 2011
I WANT ONE
It's decided, I want one. The curly tail, the wheezing, the face ... I die. So cute.
Nothing can top that today, really, so I'm not even going to try. That is all.
Nothing can top that today, really, so I'm not even going to try. That is all.
10 April 2011
All-Star
I'm so sporty.
As I promised myself I would do, I bought a bike this weekend. I went the economical way and bought used, and I think scored a pretty good deal. Can't wait to get my bike on! Since I like to name things, after I've ridden it a few more times, I will refer to it with a name and as "her" or "him". Silly it is, but it makes me grow affectionate to my gadgets/modes of transport. Which, to me, helps me feel better about the money and time I put into using them, and provides for fun jokes. I have already fondly dubbed my car "Oliver" (/"Lafonda the Honda" when he gets real sassy) and my GPS "Donna", and we tight.
As I promised myself I would do, I bought a bike this weekend. I went the economical way and bought used, and I think scored a pretty good deal. Can't wait to get my bike on! Since I like to name things, after I've ridden it a few more times, I will refer to it with a name and as "her" or "him". Silly it is, but it makes me grow affectionate to my gadgets/modes of transport. Which, to me, helps me feel better about the money and time I put into using them, and provides for fun jokes. I have already fondly dubbed my car "Oliver" (/"Lafonda the Honda" when he gets real sassy) and my GPS "Donna", and we tight.
I'm not an athlete. Anything involving running and balls are great to watch, but getting on a field or court frankly scares the heckle deckle out of me. So, I did what any sensible girly-girl would do and joined an adult kickball league. Ha. But I had my first game this week and it was a total blast! Rules were loose, seriousness was way down, and sportsmanship was all around. I seriously can't think of a better way of geting out of my comfort zone than mixing the game with friends, a boombox, jorts, and beer. And not only did I play the field for 3 innings, but I also kicked and made it to first base, and we dominated the game 6-1. Just watch, I'm gonna be a pro by the end of the season. And I'm going to wear jorts and I'm going to like it!
My involvement in sports greatly heightened my good times this weekend-- after a downtown party for the kickball league last night, I found myself at a DC United soccer game with some teammates. Not only was it a perfect spring night for a game, but the stadium was beautiful and full of devoted fans. There were painted faces, ginormous flags, and one guy who circled around the upper levels with a bass drum, carrying the rhythm of the entire stadium's cheers. D-C UNITED! clap clap, clapclapclapclap! I'm finding a big perk of living in a big city is that there are teams in the major leagues to root for. What a concept (sorry, Rochester Red Wings ...)! There was extra excitement for us last night because a high school classmate of friends I was with had been drafted for DC United and started in the game. Pretty amazing for them to see a friend on the field with the pros, including one particular one. Oh yes, to my surprise and excitement, playing for last night's opponent, the LA Galaxy, was the only male soccer player I have heard of, obviously because he is uber famous (and hot). Can you guess? Why yes, it was DAVID BECKHAM. Here he is in my stalker-ish photo, thanks to my 12x zoom lense:
My involvement in sports greatly heightened my good times this weekend-- after a downtown party for the kickball league last night, I found myself at a DC United soccer game with some teammates. Not only was it a perfect spring night for a game, but the stadium was beautiful and full of devoted fans. There were painted faces, ginormous flags, and one guy who circled around the upper levels with a bass drum, carrying the rhythm of the entire stadium's cheers. D-C UNITED! clap clap, clapclapclapclap! I'm finding a big perk of living in a big city is that there are teams in the major leagues to root for. What a concept (sorry, Rochester Red Wings ...)! There was extra excitement for us last night because a high school classmate of friends I was with had been drafted for DC United and started in the game. Pretty amazing for them to see a friend on the field with the pros, including one particular one. Oh yes, to my surprise and excitement, playing for last night's opponent, the LA Galaxy, was the only male soccer player I have heard of, obviously because he is uber famous (and hot). Can you guess? Why yes, it was DAVID BECKHAM. Here he is in my stalker-ish photo, thanks to my 12x zoom lense:
*Girly squeal!* I was way too far up to see any of his specimen-like bod, but it made things a little more exciting nonetheless. At one point, after a rough tumble, he almost started a fight with someone. Ooo, male aggression. I was there to support DC United, though, so I was eventually able to tear my eyes away from Beckham to follow the ball (and watch my friends' classmate make some good plays!). It was a great game, and with a penalty kick in the last minute, DC United tied it up for a draw. Fans went wild!
And to end the evening of sports, a group of us partook in the most intense, competitive, and skill-requiring game of all: Catchphrase. Now that's my kind of game.
27 March 2011
Chocobacon, sawed 12-packs, & cupcakes
Food and drink adventures lately:
Drive-through liquor store? This is a new concept to me, and seems a bit dangerous. However not as bad as what I've heard exists in Texas, where they apparently have drive-through margarita venues. Anyways, I did not have the guts to drive through myself, but what I found inside was just as strange. Instead of a shopping store, as in you go and peruse the aisles and pick out what you want and then bring it up to a register, there was a counter blocked by huge plexiglass wall that spread from wall to wall. The cashiers (who were all cute little Asian men, by the way) were also behind the plexiglass. They took my order, disappeared into the normal looking rows of liquor, got my beer, and put it in a lazy-susan kind of thing. I put my cash on one side and twirled it around where he took it and put my bag on his side and twirled it over to me. It was quite odd and felt like some kind of sketchy drug deal. And the oddities continued when I opened the bag and discovered that my Yeungling six-pack was a 12-pack Yeungling case sawed in half. Borderline illegal? I think so.
DC Cupcakes! I get so star struck, I was jumping for joy at just seeing the TLC sign in the window of Georgetown Cupcake. Luckily we were there only a few minutes in the evening before close so we didn't stand in line for long at all. I must say I was quite impressed with the speed and efficiency in which they took care of orders--a good system except for the immense pressure I felt to pick out six out of twenty-ish cupcakes in three minutes. It's quite a task, but totally worth it. Especially for the mint cookie one. Oh. My. Gosh. Heaven in a cupcake. (We also got red velvet, chocolate, pumpkin and vanilla birthday). Before and after, perfect for a diptych:
Green tea flavored frozen yogurt. Tangy, tea-like, refreshingly cold, and sweet considering the oreo crumb and strawberry topping. Yummy!
And from my kitchen ... I made tuna patties. They were delicious and I was so proud of myself!
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