Let me begin by saying I have some ridiculously talented friends who leave me feeling extremely inadequate whenever I get to witness said talent. On Thursday night, my friend, Lindsey and I went to our friend, Dana’s Acappella concert. The all-girl group is called Loose Interpretations and let me just say, they were awesome and while I know I’m slightly biased, Dana was clearly the best. I found myself smiling like an idiot whenever Dana sang and also tearing up a bit (confession: I cry whenever I hear someone I know sing in front of an audience – I have NO idea why, but it’s happened my whole life, no matter how upbeat the song is).
I really love seeing shows like these – dance shows, Acappella shows. They make me feel so energized that I want to get up on stage and join in on the dance or song (even though that would seriously lessen the greatness of the piece. I cannot sing and I cannot dance (not that it ever stops me from doing it when I’m by myself). Props to Dana and the Loose Interpretations – you are far braver and more talented than I could ever wish to be.
As I’ve mentioned before, I commute to Manhattan for work. In the summer, when it’s not humid and sticky or raining, I walk from Penn Station to my office at 55th and Broadway. It’s a nice 30 minutes to myself when I can listen to my ipod and get a little exercise before I officially start my day. Anyone who’s ever been to New York City can vouch for this: you see some REALLY interesting people. One of my favorite things to do on my walk in (and also any time I’m in public) is to people watch.
At about the same spot each morning, I pass one woman who makes me smile every single day. She’s about 40 or 45, dressed professionally – usually in a skirt, and struts down the street. That’s right – STRUTS. I’ve never actually seen someone walk like this before in my life and I love it. She walks down Broadway, chin up, shoulders back, and struts. I love her. Seeing her always makes me think about my walk. It’s not anything special. It serves its purpose and gets me where I need to go. But this woman’s walk says something about herself. She’s so confident in herself and so happy (she always has a little smile on her face). It’s wonderful. I say today, we all tilt our chins up, pull our shoulders back, and strut for all the world to see.
Not on my nightstand:
I read this book months ago, but I have to mention it. Besides The Giver, this is my favorite book: The Book Thief. It’s about a foster girl in WWII era Germany. It is possibly the most beautiful book I have ever read. Markus Zusak is the author and his writing is so poetic and gorgeous, it draws you in from the very beginning. The narrator is Death - I think that is so clever – but his voice isn’t morbid or sad. In fact, it’s straightforward and even slightly humorous. There’s no foreshadowing in this story. Death tells you exactly what’s going to happen in the future. You feel such a connection to this little girl while you’re reading. You feel her fear during the bomb raids and her excitement as she learns how to read. I seriously cannot recommend this book enough. Please read it. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Moving Day
Last weekend was pretty eventful. Kurt and I moved in together. We now live in a quirky little one bedroom apartment in an old house in Allentown. On Friday night, Dee, her sister Kelly, and I had a dinner and movie date to mourn/celebrate the end of our living together. We went to Uno’s and saw the Ugly Truth – which was adorable – I want to see if again already!
Saturday was our official move-in date. We had help from Kurt’s friends and brother and from the start, things started going wrong. It’s inevitable I think, that when you have something important or big to do, things just happen to try your patience. I’ve learned over the years just to go with it (Kurt’s helped me a lot with that). First, Kurt’s car wouldn’t start when we went to pick up the moving truck, then Jeff (his former roommate) couldn't get the key to his new apartment because the apartment hadn't been cleaned yet(we were helping him move too). Then, Kurt and I went to pick up a couch, chair, and dryer from his mom and her boyfriend, only to find that the nearest bridge wouldn’t accommodate the height of the truck, so we had to turn around and take the long way. Also, Mount Holly is not moving truck friendly so we had to take a few alternate routes to get to their house. I’m pretty sure more things happened, but you get the gist. At least there was a parking space in front of our apartment for the truck. We got lucky there.
After those setbacks, the move went well. I felt like an idiot walking down the street carrying such things as a broom, mirror, and hammer. I only moved down the street, so anything I forgot I just walked over with. People must have thought I was either a weird bag lady or slowly robbing a house. Three days later, I was still extremely sore even though I only carried the little stuff. I’ve realized that I’m completely useless when it comes to stuff like this. I can’t carry anything big! I hate that. I prefer to do things myself. I don’t like to rely on other people to get things done. There are two reasons for this. The first is that I don’t like admitting weakness. The second is that I want things done when I want them done. I hate waiting. But honestly, I'm grateful for all the help when I need it because I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have Kurt or my dad nearby or Dee’s dad. When Dee and I lived together, we couldn’t carry big things up the stairs, put in the air conditioner every summer, etc. Our dads and Kurt would have to help. I can't help but think – What would we do if our parents didn’t live so close by, or we didn’t have Kurt and Andy (Dee's bf) to help us with the heavy lifting? We’d be stuck. I guess that’s when you buy a smaller air conditioner.
So Kurt and I are all moved in. We’re still missing some things – wardrobe (our house was built in the 1800s or so, so we have no closet space), a washing machine, and some area rugs (all hardwood floors which I love!), and we’re not completely unpacked, but it’s starting to feel like ours now. I am loving living with Kurt, but I definitely miss living with Dee and I miss our apartment. That little place with my windowless bedroom was my first apartment, out on my own. It’s amazing how much like home your first apartment becomes.
Our new place is really cute and has crown molding (now a requirement for me for all future houses we will live in), and one wall in the dining room/office/laundry room is made of cork! We have a teeny tiny backyard about the size of a bowling alley that backs up to the lake in Allentown. I love the lake. I think that’s my favorite part of the house. It’s so beautiful. Our neighbors have two Newfoundlands. They are the biggest dogs I have ever seen. They’re so sweet, but if they felt like it, I’m sure they could easily rip me to shreds. They are the size of bears and look like them too. It’s strange, you simultaneously want to hug them and run away from them. Home sweet home :-)
On my nightstand:
Right now I'm reading a manuscript so I won't tease you with how amazing it is when you can't buy it until Christmas, so I'll tell you about one I loved that's in stores. The Forest of Hands and Teeth. To me it felt like a cross between I Am Legend and The Village. It's about our world in the future, overrun by people infected with some sort of disease that turns them into the undead. It's thrilling and thought-provoking. The author, Carrie Ryan, really delves deep into the fears and desires of Mary, the main character. I was conflicted trying to read this book. I couldn't put it down, but I couldn't read it alone at night. It freaked me out a little too much. So if you're as much of a chicken as I am, read it in the daylight.
Saturday was our official move-in date. We had help from Kurt’s friends and brother and from the start, things started going wrong. It’s inevitable I think, that when you have something important or big to do, things just happen to try your patience. I’ve learned over the years just to go with it (Kurt’s helped me a lot with that). First, Kurt’s car wouldn’t start when we went to pick up the moving truck, then Jeff (his former roommate) couldn't get the key to his new apartment because the apartment hadn't been cleaned yet(we were helping him move too). Then, Kurt and I went to pick up a couch, chair, and dryer from his mom and her boyfriend, only to find that the nearest bridge wouldn’t accommodate the height of the truck, so we had to turn around and take the long way. Also, Mount Holly is not moving truck friendly so we had to take a few alternate routes to get to their house. I’m pretty sure more things happened, but you get the gist. At least there was a parking space in front of our apartment for the truck. We got lucky there.
After those setbacks, the move went well. I felt like an idiot walking down the street carrying such things as a broom, mirror, and hammer. I only moved down the street, so anything I forgot I just walked over with. People must have thought I was either a weird bag lady or slowly robbing a house. Three days later, I was still extremely sore even though I only carried the little stuff. I’ve realized that I’m completely useless when it comes to stuff like this. I can’t carry anything big! I hate that. I prefer to do things myself. I don’t like to rely on other people to get things done. There are two reasons for this. The first is that I don’t like admitting weakness. The second is that I want things done when I want them done. I hate waiting. But honestly, I'm grateful for all the help when I need it because I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have Kurt or my dad nearby or Dee’s dad. When Dee and I lived together, we couldn’t carry big things up the stairs, put in the air conditioner every summer, etc. Our dads and Kurt would have to help. I can't help but think – What would we do if our parents didn’t live so close by, or we didn’t have Kurt and Andy (Dee's bf) to help us with the heavy lifting? We’d be stuck. I guess that’s when you buy a smaller air conditioner.
So Kurt and I are all moved in. We’re still missing some things – wardrobe (our house was built in the 1800s or so, so we have no closet space), a washing machine, and some area rugs (all hardwood floors which I love!), and we’re not completely unpacked, but it’s starting to feel like ours now. I am loving living with Kurt, but I definitely miss living with Dee and I miss our apartment. That little place with my windowless bedroom was my first apartment, out on my own. It’s amazing how much like home your first apartment becomes.
Our new place is really cute and has crown molding (now a requirement for me for all future houses we will live in), and one wall in the dining room/office/laundry room is made of cork! We have a teeny tiny backyard about the size of a bowling alley that backs up to the lake in Allentown. I love the lake. I think that’s my favorite part of the house. It’s so beautiful. Our neighbors have two Newfoundlands. They are the biggest dogs I have ever seen. They’re so sweet, but if they felt like it, I’m sure they could easily rip me to shreds. They are the size of bears and look like them too. It’s strange, you simultaneously want to hug them and run away from them. Home sweet home :-)
On my nightstand:
Right now I'm reading a manuscript so I won't tease you with how amazing it is when you can't buy it until Christmas, so I'll tell you about one I loved that's in stores. The Forest of Hands and Teeth. To me it felt like a cross between I Am Legend and The Village. It's about our world in the future, overrun by people infected with some sort of disease that turns them into the undead. It's thrilling and thought-provoking. The author, Carrie Ryan, really delves deep into the fears and desires of Mary, the main character. I was conflicted trying to read this book. I couldn't put it down, but I couldn't read it alone at night. It freaked me out a little too much. So if you're as much of a chicken as I am, read it in the daylight.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
I See in Color
After much fence-sitting, I’ve decided to start a blog. I had wanted to for awhile, but when I thought about it, all I could wonder was, what if no one wants to read my blog? What if no one cares what I have to say? While I’m sure there are very few people that will actually read my blog and even fewer who will care what I have to say, I’m writing one anyway. My focus is completely unfocused – this blog will contain rants, observations, and general thoughts, in addition to posts on my progress in achieving my goal (see below).
The name of my blog, if you're wondering, comes from my favorite book of all time: The Giver. If you’ve never read it, immediately step away from the computer, go straight to a bookstore and pick it up. I remember when I first spotted the cover at the Scholastic Book Fair at Sharon School in Robbinsville, NJ. I was in 6th grade. A teacher saw me eyeing it and recommended I read it. A few minutes and $7 later, I had in my hands what would be my favorite book. It was my first view of a dystopian society. I loved it. The society masqueraded as a Utopian society – safe and orderly (in my opinion, those are the worst kinds). It angered me, inspired me, frustrated me. How could people give up their humanity? How could they choose order over everything else – love, choice, color? Hence the name of my blog: Seeing in Color. It’s about seeing the beauty in life, no matter how imperfect.
For the past 2 years, I’ve worked in Manhattan and have schlepped 2 hours each way, every day. You can imagine that that cuts down on the time I have to do other things, but what it's really done is to make me realize I need to make sure I’m really living and making the most of the time I have. That’s my goal – to make a list of things I’ve always wanted to do, but never had the time; and MAKE time to do them.
Those of you who have worked with me or been around me during one of my organizing frenzies, you know I’m a list maker. Nothing makes me happier than making a to do list and crossing things off of it. I feel so productive, so empowered. I know it's weird. In college I used to write down every minute thing I had to do in order to give myself some motivation to do the bigger stuff. I swear, crossing off “take a shower” and “iron shirt” gave me such motivation that by the end of the day, I’d crossed off everything I’d written down: “write 15 page paper” “fill out FAFSA” “run a marathon”. Ok, so that last one is a lie, but it IS on my list!
So here is my Live Life List (subject to change):
Take a photography class
Become fluent (or close) in Italian
Learn Sign Language
Write a book
Travel
Run a Marathon (see? I told you)
Get an MBA
Own something (anything) big, i.e. house, business, etc.
Start a blog (one down!)
I won’t be writing everyday. But I will try to write when I have something fun or interesting to say. And I promise to try to keep private things and people just that - private. So, I hope you enjoy! If you don’t, at least take comfort in the fact that I enjoy writing to you! J
As most of you already know, I work for Random House Children's Books. This means that I have access to a lot of free books, and given all the time I spend on trains, you can imagine how much reading I get done. A lot. So every blog post will contain what I'm reading at the moment or close to that moment (many of the books are read are still in manuscript form, so I won't be writing about those until they're published).
On My Nightstand:
The Girl Who Played With Fire by Stieg Larrson. This is the sequel to The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo. It's incredible. I couldn't put either of them down. They're suspenseful, intriguing and disturbing (as a psych major I love disturbing plot lines). Both are murder mysteries and are so complex and detailed. I highly recommend these books. I believe the sequel comes out next week, so my advice to you is go out, pick up the first one now and grab the sequel once it comes out.
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