I miss my SISTER.
Today was kind of rough. I let a lot of small things (that I would normally pay no mind to) pile up and really bring me down.
So, naturally, I am watching Annie Hall and eating pizza and trying to focus on everything I am so lucky to have and be a part of. I am trying desperately not to wish the time I have left in Boston away. But man, I wish it would go a bit faster.
Yellow Ostrich, Marathon Runner (from the album Strange Land)
I absolutely have the biggest music crush on Yellow Ostrich and now after hearing the track “Marathon Runner” off of the new LP Strange Land, plain and simple, March 6th can’t get it’s adorable tush around soon enough! Seriously this is def an album to get excited about! For fans of Death Cab For Cutie and Ra Ra Riot.
“I am a marathon runner and my legs are sore…”
Alex can do no wrong if you ask me. Can’t wait for this record.
- I am in love with my classes. Northeastern, I feel as if you have been holding out on me with all of these incredible professors that I miraculously have my final semester of college. But it’s okay because for the first time in a longggg time I feel completely inspired by these educators. Their enthusiasm is infectious and I love it.
- My New Years resolution of eight hours of sleep each night is perhaps the best decision I have ever made. I feel like a million dollars basically everyday. How many people can say that!? I’m sure it helps that I am also drinking (omg) so much water and abstaining from alcohol but yeah. Sleep, man. It’s the tits.
- I am taking a class called Voice & Articulation as a Communications elective and I am mildly obsessed with it. I have stopped listening to what people are saying entirely. All I do is analyze their vowel shapes and poor vocal habits! But really, this course is causing me to think about how I speak; which, to my dismay, is pretty terribly. I often omit the ends of words, most of my A’s are flat and nasal, and I don’t relax my tongue, ever. It boils down to laziness (oops!) and having a mother from Michigan. But I am getting better. And it’s pretty cool.
- I think the grocery store should sell produce for people who only cook for themselves. HOLLA SINGLES SECTION OF TJ’S! But really, creatively incorporating a bag of field greens into every meal before it goes bad is kind of difficult! Everything I buy I try to use but I end up throwing more away than I’d like to.
- I am very thankful that I feel good about myself and my body. I think I would feel very helpless if I did not.
- THE PLAN: GRADUATE > GET A JOB > MOVE HOME > MOVE TO NEW YORK Not very original, I know. I am so excited and ready to get out of here, to feel challenged, vulnerable, adventurous, excited….to MEET NEW PEOPLE!
- For anyone keeping track, I am still funemployed. I worked some things out that allow me to take the semester off from working part-time to focus on school (I’m taking an extra class to avoid summer in Boston) and myself and finding a full-time job. I am so fortunate to have been able to finagle this situation. Definitely good for my GPA as well.
- I want a cape. Like a badass, heavy, wool, British, cape. With big buttons, and arm holes.
- This weekend I am going to make Valentine’s Day cards!
- This weekend I am going to perfect my resume!
- This weekend I am going on a nice long winter run!
You should probably watch this! (because it’s a Madonna kind of evening) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=snsTmi9N9Gs
Ed Sheeran - Swim Good (Frank Ocean Cover)
So, so good.
via somuchsass:(via jeffcarroll)
The megabus man is MOCKING ME. I just want to buy a ticket home.
These new Mad Men ads are subtle and brilliant. New series back on in March…
Can’t wait can’t wait can’t wait.
I borrowed the M83 album from the radio station. I listened to the whole thing twice. And. It’s garbage! What’s all the hubbub about this guy!? I feel like I’m missing something.
Or I’m not, and it’s just terrible crap.
Season 5 of Mad Men will premiere on AMC Sunday, March 25th. Jon Hamm directed the premiere!
ZOMGGGG
Let me preface this by saying I have been very lucky in finding work. The longest I have ever been unemployed since turning sixteen is just under four months (study abroad) and that was a rough four months (London, you’re fucking expensive).
I love working. I love the idea of having all of these mini experiences and random skill sets under my belt; looking after demonic children, washing dishes until my fingers prune, selling ad space, commuting, supervising overly hormonal band nerds, sweeping the floor of the Wakeman gymnasium, standing behind a podium in a dress and talking to European tourists, making and dressing Greek desserts, seating Chelsea Handler, selling pizza, lifting corn crates, growing and selling my own organic vegetables, learning about oysters, learning about coffee, learning about wine, learning about farming, learning, learning, learning. Not to mention getting to meet new people, all the time. I love it.
Back in September I made my annual Boston application run-around. I dropped by several places in my new neighborhood as well as some restaurants downtown. At some point between the end of camp and the start of the fall semester, I popped in at my neighborhood Starbucks. I had applied online earlier in the summer and figured I would check out the store first hand.
This particular Starbucks is the Starbucks that Starbucks wants every Starbucks to emulate (lol STARBUCKS). It’s a neighborhood store. A giant oak table fills the center of the store with college students, lawyers, architects, pre-pubescent teenagers gawking over their iPhones, crazy homeless people, blind dates, and new moms. All walks of life functioning in a communal space, and enjoying it. It’s adorable. A slew of regulars come in every morning at 5:00 right as the door is unlocked. A short plump hispanic woman with cherry colored hair orders a venti java chip frappuccino with extra caramel drizzle everyday at 2:30pm. Everyone ties their small dogs to the iron gate outside while they wait in line to order their coffee beverage.
I was hired and trained the first couple weeks of September. I was ecstatic at the idea of learning about coffee, how it’s farmed, harvested, washed, roasted, double roasted! I was excited to wear a silly green apron and make over-priced drinks for people I would soon get to know. The training was very hands on. Each training shift involved a coffee tasting, on bar training, as well as overviews of the Starbucks mantra. I caught on quickly to most things and enjoyed everyone I was working with. The regulars immediately gave me a ton of crap for being new, but it made me feel welcome. I found my home on the bar, probably because it really is an art. Not to brag but I can steam milk like a fucking champ. I found great satisfaction in handing off drinks that I had made, and made well.
Skipping ahead to this last week, I found myself being weird on the phone with my mother. If you don’t know, I talk to my mom all the time (she rawks) so this weird attitude I was giving her was new and unwelcome. I was coming off as annoyed anytime she made mention of Christmas. Maybe it was the fact that Christmas is shoved down your throat a la Starbucks. Red holiday cups came out less than twenty-four hours after Halloween. We started playing Christmas music on that same day. I had been on Christmas overload since then. But when I sat down to think about what was bothering me I remembered back to October when we discussed holiday availability. They essentially gave the partners an ultimatum; work two holidays or find a new job. Thinking nothing of it, I said I would work Christmas Eve and New Years.
I was scheduled to take the 6:34pm train home on Christmas Eve, pulling into the Bridgeport train station at 9:36pm only to return to Boston two days later. On Christmas Eve. And for what? For about eighty dollars, before taxes. Excuse my French but that’s RETARDED. The icing on the cake was visiting my brother at work on Friday. He was recently employed at a restaurant in the Financial District as a bar back. He made over two hundred dollars last weekend in one night.
The decision to quit came to me on a cold-as-fuck early morning walk to work. Why should anyone have to wake up at four in the morning? No matter how many showers I take, I still smell like flavored syrup. Why would I ever even consider working on Christmas Eve? What sort of weird guilt-trip am I experiencing that I am not able to stand up for myself when I am scheduled 32 hours instead of 20? Why am I letting creepy men creep on me? Why do I exert so much energy and passion for so little reward? Why should I remake you’re drink when you’re a huge cunt?!
And so I quit. I quit for me. I quit because time with my family is worth more than any money you could ever offer me.
Cheesy, yes. But so very true.
Fairfield, see you TOMORROW!
Christmas haircut wahooo!
Jimmy Kimmel’s Challenges to troll your own kids are my new favorites.
This is the Christmas one.
