I really wish they at least had one redeeming sports team...

“The home uniforms are so beautiful they make me weep… this is a B+/A- at worse, and it just reminds us how horrific the past decade has been.” –Washington Post

So, after a whirlwind trip to the opposite coast and a surprisingly small amount of deliberation I have decided to go to American University over Emerson. I am COMPLETELY obsessed with Boston; I loved it before I went this time, and I will continue to think of it as one of the best cities in America, most likely forever. But unfortunately I just didn’t really jive with Emerson. I realize that’s a bit of a cop-out answer, but the actual semantics of my decision are pretty boring.

Short breakdown:

Emerson American

City Great! I love DC

Money Minimal Full ride, plus a stipend to be a

TA. (I really like people/places that like me)

School Filled with everybody’s working

squealing theater kids

Plus American is a one year program, but it starts way earlier than I was ever expecting to move. I wish I could say it was a hard decision once I got there, but American just felt like a much more logical decision. A ‘good fit’ if you will.

While the decision is easy, and I can’t wait to start, I am already dreading moving AGAIN.

Sometimes I play the ‘how can I take the most cliché photo possible’ game; and by sometimes I mean a large majority of the time. This is mainly because cliché pictures are super easy to take and for the most part, are cute slash don’t run the risk of offending anyone. That being said, at the end of the day, you can only look at so many snapshots of a tree branch (not counting the fact that I don’t even like pictures that don’t have people in them. Caveat – some sort of natural disaster or something else cool)

For the most part I can count on one hand the amount of minutes I have spent taking such pictures of coffee mugs and things that I like. But I also hope that people don’t assume that I LOVE taking these boring images (a-la the homepage images for my portfolio)

Moral of the story, I finally picked up my Canon from my folks house and I forgot how much I lloooovvvveeee it. Seeing as how I have yet to find any breaking news in my sleepy little neighborhood I was resigned to snapping a few shots of what I was doing this morning.

Like all mornings: Drinking Coffee

Not like all mornings: I think it is finally bright enough out (on some days) to start using my little Diana-mini without a flash (which I refuse to buy, because it’s bigger than its diminutive little owner-the Diana, not me)

Off to washington

Last week I posted about my impending grad school career and strangely a lot has changed between then and now.

I received acceptance letters from not only Emerson but also DePaul University and American University, who has offered me a full scholarship.

This has put me in a bit of a bind unfortunately. Emerson was always my number one choice, but it was definitely my ‘reach’ school (along with American for that matter). They have the exact program I want and it is in Boston, which is where I ultimately wanted to live for at least the next two years. But now that American has offered me a ton of money I feel compelled to at least see what they have to offer.

So, within the next few weeks I am off to get the sales pitch from both schools and hopefully upon my return I will know what I am doing with my life next year.

I suppose I shouldn’t be complaining, because ultimately this is what I wanted all along.

The big boss has been in town this week, so it is a lot of running around and staffing special events. This generally has been leading to long hours and general brain exhaustion from talking to a million people.

Beyond the fact that I am exhausted when I get home, I have been meeting amazing people, left and right.

With graduation quickly approaching like a speeding train, I feel like I need to make as many contacts as humanly possible.

Schedule for the week: Today-Women’s Leadership Luncheon and then a reception with Debbie Wasserman-Schultz (awesome)

Tomorrow-Congressional Art Competition

Let the schmoozing begin!

I have always had a soft spot in my heart for small, underrepresented European countries (which makes sense, seeing as how I spent 4 months in Finland)

I especially love when people from said underrepresented countries find themselves thrust into the international spotlight. There is no better example of this than my most favorite Blazer of all time (along with Clyde of course) Arvydas Sabonis.

This giant, white, Lithuanian man with a funny shaped head was a strangely integral part of my childhood.

While Sabonis played a number of good years with the Blazers, it was his unsung achievements overseas that really demonstrated this Lithuanian ogre’s athletic prowess. Come on, can Brandon Roy proudly say that he was crowned Mr. Europa, two times running?! (no disrespect, I am an avid watcher of The Brandon Roy Show)

Finally, this year America took note of the amazing man, with the unmistakable haircut, that is Arvydas Sabonis, by inducting him into the hall of fame.

I couldn’t be more proud.

Breakfast is easily my favorite meal of the day and over the course of the past week I have been eating my favorite breakfast-type foods much more frequently than usual.

While my sudden uptake in scrambled eggs could usuall be attributed to a whole slew of environmental factors, this week it is Passover. While most Jews in America use this week to stuff their bellies full of cardboard-like matzo in all its ‘tasty’ forms, I use it as an excuse to eat eggs multiple times a day.

One of my favorite places to look for breakfast themed inspiration is on the blog Simply Breakfast. I try to only read it around a meal time because to be honest, any time I look at pictures of food for an extended period of time I end up getting pretty famished (or at least I convince myself that I’m famished, a skill I seem to have perfected after 21 years of living with a Jewish mother).

While Passover is one of my favorite Jewish holidays, I can’t wait to be able to eat some good old-fashioned oatmeal.

Hold the phone. I got into grad school. I still think that it is some sort of elaborate practical joke, but they seem to really want me.

As of current, I am planning on going to Emerson College come fall 2011 to work on my Masters in Integrated Marketing.

I was pretty resigned to not going to grad school and simply working for a couple years before studying for my masters. But now that I got into my DREAM program, it seems beyond stupid not to go.

But good god are there a lot of unanswered questions. Where am I going to live? Who am I going to live with? Where will I buy my groceries?!

More to come when I figure out any of those incredibly mundane, yet necessary questions.

I love old people. Not in a creepy sort of Anna Nicole Smith sort of way, I assure you. But more in a I love shuffle board, aquarobics, useless crap, game shows and eating dinner at four o'clock, sort of way. I love them, because I aspire to be them, at the ripe age of twenty one.

They always have something interesting to talk about and the crown jewel of all of this, is it seems that the older you get, the more your verbal filter seems to degenerate. Therefore leaving only the snarkyest comments behind.

For example. I went to visit my oldest and bestest old-person friend this afternoon to wish her a happy birthday (she is sprightly, clocking in at 73 years young). Shortly after my arrival, she had already fed me 400 pounds of cheerios and sewed buttons onto more than half of my wardrobe. It was at this point where the true joy of old-age comes into play.

As I was casually sipping my coffee and chatting about last nights episode of Jeopardy, I felt a yawn creeping up on me. Next thing you know, I'm yawning, and I mindlessly mention that I am a little tired. Without missing a beat, she causally asks "what's his name?" all while munching on Cheerios and cookies like she didn't ask me a completely inappropriate question, and in front of a third grader I might add!

I love it. I can't wait until it is socially acceptable for me to ask ridiculous, prying questions about other people's lives.

Really, What's not to love?

While the government could be shutting down, I get to answer the phone...

“Good afternoon, Congressman Bluemenauer’s office”

“Is this Congressman Bluemenauer’s office?!”

“Yes sir, it is.” (That would be why I said it was his office when I picked up the phone)

“Well I just want to tell you about some of my plans” (I open up my email and start to get comfy. Not only does he sound like he has a lot of things to tell me, but he is also a slow talker)

“Of course sir, go right ahead”

“I went to Salem, you know about the capital of this state?!”

“Yes sir, I’ve been to our state capital before”

“Ok, fine. Let me continue. When I went to Salem there was a BEAUTIFUL golden statue of a pioneer and then when I came to Portland I found out that we have the Trailblazers.”

“mmmmhhhmmm” (WTF?!)

“So I want to combine the two of those into one GIANT statue!”

“Just so I can be clear sir, you would like the Congressman to commission a golden statue of one of the Blazers? Like Brandon Roy?” (While I would be all for a bronzed version of one of Rip Cities finest, it still amazes me that people call in to ask for things like this.)

“I want to build a train with a hospital on its back”

And then he hung up

With a possible government shutdown lurking in the background of all talk around the office, I’m glad I still get to deal with some crazies to make my day a little brighter.

Smoothie Debacle

I have become obsessed with smoothies ever since moving into my new place. They are quick to make, delicious to drink, and perfect to take to work since I have kind of a wonky schedule. Recently though, I have run into a bit of a problem with my smoothie/work combination. What kind of carrying device is appropriate for the office? Read: people have been giving me funny looks because I have been drinking out of my old and dingy batman thermos.

So, I set out to finally find an appropriate smoothie transporter. I went to Bed Bath and Beyond, nothing. Fred Meyer, nothing. Finally I ended up in Starbucks to grab a coffee, and sitting on the shelf was a little (actually gigantic) reusable plastic cup, with a screw on lid.

My issue with this seemingly perfect beverage transporter is that it has a hard, reusable straw. For one, this means I can’t chew on the straw, and secondly how the heck are you supposed to clean a reusable straw?!

I know this sounds like a trivial issue, but nothing sounds worse to me than drinking a delicious smoothie out of a dirty straw.

What I’ll be drinking this morning (still in trusty old Batman)
1 handful frozen blueberries
Sliced up pineapple
1 mini yogurt
Little orange juice
Lots of ice

Mix ‘em together.

BUNNY IS A BALLSY CARD SHARK

I love breakfast and old game shows.

I woke up two hours before my first class this morning so I had plenty of time to indulge in two of my most favorite morning rituals. Making a gigantic bowl of steaming oatmeal and settling back into my bed to watch Card Sharks.

Breakfast is easily my favorite meal of the day and I often find myself eating scrambled eggs with peppers for breakfast and again for dinner. But for early mornings, my go-to snack is oatmeal.

Recently I have been loving oatmeal with pumpkin, cranberries, chopped up almonds and a bit of vanilla soy milk; I can honestly say that it is the most delicious way to wake up in the morning.

While I eat breakfast without fail every morning, it is a very exciting day when I wake up before 7 o'clock and can lay around and watch The Game Show Network. It is a similar feeling to when I get to watch Regis and Kelly on Friday mornings, but I digress, I surely will discuss my deep love for Regis at a later date.

While I am an equal opportunity employer when it comes to game shows that predate 1979, Card Sharks is BY FAR my favorite. The hair, the giant pants, people who are named Bunny (in all seriousness, she won today's episode), and the distinctly 'risque' questions that deal with mid-age hair loss and convicts who may or may not steal hotel towels (only 35 out of 100, in case you were wondering) all add to the ambiance that is CARD SHARKS.

I'm going to my aqua-aerobics class this afternoon, maybe I'll ask some of my swim-capped comrades if they have seen this episode.

Would You Like a Medal or a Cookie?

Hipster #1, coming to a sudden realization: "Is everyone at this table applying for grad school?"

Unfortunately, over the course of the past 3 months, I have become a card-carrying member of this aforementioned club.

These past 3 months have felt like an eternity, but the upside to 'applying to grad school' is that most people seem to think that 'applying to grad school' is an appropriate, if not exceptional, use of my time.

I think that this is absolute crap. Sure, there are a few essays involved in the process, but essentially it is just writing your name repetitively on different sheets of paper. This being said, it gets people off of my back when it comes to the question of 'what are you going to do with the rest of your life?'

Regardless of how silly I think all this is, I couldn't help but getting a little amped-up over the entire process. So I compiled this list of things that make me smile:

dressing like a grandma (note my new 'leopard' jacket)

eggs (in all forms) and wine in cute red bottles

my cloud-like bed that I literally LIVE in

carmex, smart water and wonderfully trashy television

beautiful spring days that surely will be around the corner and soaking up the last bits of eclecticism before graduation

Timing is Everything

"...and as you held the door, you wanted to know my name, timing is everything...."

While most people have no reference point to place the line above (which is blasphemy in my opinion. Country Strong. Go see it and report back) I think that most people can agree with its intention. Timing is everything in this world.

Just yesterday I was griping to two of my professors about wanting to find a 'cool' news story to cover. A house on fire, a baby being saved by some sort of duck-billed platypus, shoot, even a profile piece on a Zamboni driver would be breaking news in this two-bit town.

But, while they were in the midst of ridiculing me for asking such a dumb question, (their point being that I should be able to make anything seem interesting, and if I can't, I'm not doing my job correctly) they imparted a total GEM of wisdom upon me. 'If something makes you look twice, take a picture, 15 minutes of footage and have a little chat with the person'

The idea swirled around in my brain for the rest of the afternoon, mainly while I wasn't paying attention during the aforementioned 'brilliant' professors lecture, but I digress. It was such a simple idea, yet so applicable.

I have been struggling for months now to come up with good story topics, good things to take photos of, etc. and all I had to do was pay attention to what I already saw every day!

So, as I emerged from the crumbling walls of the J-school and out into the strangely sunny quad of campus, timing struck again.

I happened upon a totally normal looking human playing his violin on campus. I took a second look, and scampered off towards my apartment to get my gear.

Moral of the story: some people really are smarter than me.

The Dash

Someone recently asked me if I had ever heard of a dash before, the sarcasm was palpable. My response returned nothing less, 'those horizontal lines I see all the time in books? Nope, never heard of 'em.'

With graduation quickly approaching, this seemingly mundane remark got my gears turning. Truth be told, after four years of college, with a journalism degree no less, I still don't know exactly how to use a dash.

This confusion didn't last long, I generally don't like not knowing things (more to come on this later, I'm sure) I quickly went home and dug out an old style-guide and now I am the proud owner of a new piece of knowledge.

But this got me thinking, what other seemingly mundane things don't I know, understand, comprehend, etc. I like to think of myself as an educated member of this society, but I have no idea how to roast a chicken! To err on the side of sexism (which frequently do), how can I be a twenty-something woman and not know how to roast a chicken! In the old days I would have had a baby in each arm while somehow deftly fixing an elegant meal for my husband and family.

That being said, as I graduate from my apartment in my sleepy/fratty/hippy, little college town and into a similarly small apartment in a slightly less sleepy/fratty/hippy, urban environment, I look forward to learning new skills that hopefully will propel me along my quest to becoming a real-life human.