Window Shopping for Dates

This summer, I decided to try something new. Frustrated with my love live and lack of viable options in my social circle, I opened a dating profile on OkCupid. The site is free and I had heard good things about it from my extended grad school network. And apparently, many of my high school and college friends were into it too.

What I learned was, I'm not ready for my love life to be mediated through the net. These digital profiles that we craft seem so superficial. I'm not going to lie; I judge a profile on looks first always. If I think that guy is attractive, I might look at his profile. If you're a redhead and you message me, I probably won't message you back. (Sorry, just not my thang). If you are over 35 or bald, I won't message you back.

I may sound terribly shallow, but there's just a certain something about meeting someone in person and getting to know that appeals to me. I never did meet any of these potential suitors in real life and maybe I'm a picky bitch and I wasted some great opportunities. Then again, what opportunities could I find with someone named SugarDaddee who asked me if I was a "desert person?"

Maybe someday I will return to this realm. I know plenty of people who met their significant other online. Props to them, they are far braver people than I.

Summer Bummin

With about a week left of my last summer vacation ever, I've returned to evaluate my summer goals. Just last night, I was feeling down because in many ways, this summer has one of the biggest busts of my life (discounting the summer of '08, which was one massive post-grad rejection letter).

While I spent a lot of time bored/isolated, I'm pleased to report I actually accomplished a few things too.

For starters, I did land an internship. One that, while I wasn't completely satisfied with it, may lead to a future job. I met some cool people, both fellow interns and networking prospects, and I got work experience in a new field out of it.

Second, I got in shape! I can actually make out a waist line. For the first time in four years, clothes aren't fitting because they are too loose. This means my weekly workout regiment (2-3 days of 1 hr+ workouts at Fitrec)and healthier eating plan (more fish, more fruits, more vegetables and rarely eating out) have paid off! Now, to maintain this lifestyle after school starts. That will be the real challenge.

I got out of town. Just a little bit. I did go home (twice, briefly). And I got my first taste of Brooklyn hipsters visiting my friend Jin. AND I'm going to DC for the fist time since I was an infant next weekend. Yay, friends! Yay, trips! Best of all, even when I was stuck in town and it felt like a million degrees, I forced myself out to visit museums and other cool (AC and otherwise) places.

Where I failed, however:

No boys. No dates. Not at all. Sighhh, Boston, where them decent guys at??? I attempted to join a dating site, but the whole thing creeped me out so much I just ditched it.

I wrote a little bit. Two extra scenes for my novel. A few posts here and there. Nothing to be proud of because I was supposed to write every day. Everyone knows real writers are supposed to write everyday. I must not be a real writer. Fudge.

Same with reading. I read some novels to be proud of. But reading, say 5 novels over the summer is no great accomplishment. There was a time I would have read 20. How will I ever get to the point of writing everyday if I don't read everyday?! Bah.

It wasn't the best of times or the worst of times. There were some epic moments. I got closer to some people and let others drift away. I guess this is what it means to grow up.

Will you be my group?

In this period of digital personas and "circles" of friends, I find myself craving a real-life cadre of amigos. While the virtual crew offers it benefits, there's no substitute for a good old-fashioned hang-out with your people (unless all the people in one of my circles spontaneously spring into the Thriller dance over Google Chat one day). The kinds of hang outs where you're doing absolutely nothing, but in the company of people you feel comfortable with, it becomes something.

This summer has been a lesson in independence. Independence, you say, Divs, you're always doing shit on your own. Don't I know it. But usually good friends are just around the corner. This summer, for the first time since mid-high school, I don't have a core group of friends to surround myself with. I find myself at the beach staring at the packs of foreign students who travel together wishing I could be a part of something like that.

Mostly, that's because I'm in Boston. And my closest friends are not so geographically close, completely scattered around the country.

And when you use your friends to substitute other lacking relationships in your life - familial, or let's face it, romantic - that can be a problem. As many of my dearest friends ignite new flames, or grow their continuing relationships, I am left flying solo.

So, while I use this summer to work on me and continue to mature (yuck, that's what happens when you turn 25), I can't help but reminisce about the completely ridiculous times I shared with my CAPA friends, Chambana roommates, Condo Crew and Comm Cabal (holy crap, alliteration!).

My Biggest Pet Peeves, AKA Things That Keep Me Single

As Noted from the Airport Gate

1. Incessant Finger Licking - First of all, my mama taught me to wash my hands before I eat, so finger licking your unclean hands, even when lightly dusted with food, is like sucking on a subway railing that has been touched by everyone in the city and was probably last cleaned in 1972. Please remember to pick up a napkin and save me the subjection to that repeated wet noise.
2. Incessant snot-sucking-in - Blow your nose if you have the sniffles; if you have no Kleenex on hand, tough luck. Your nose is not meant to be a human vacuum.
3. The sound that nail biting makes - that little chewing noise drives me crazy (if you hadn't noticed, I am extremely oversensitive to sounds)
4. Old people on trains who yell at me for reasons that are obviously out of my control. (Of course my purse is wet, it's raining!) This is becoming a recurring theme in my life.
5. When people at work cause a mess at the communal sink and don't wipe it down, which causes me to walk around with a huge wet spot on my lower abdomen for the rest of the afternoon.
6. When people use the word "ghetto" to describe things that are most definitely not ghetto.
7. When people make declarations about how broke they are, but all the evidence is to the contrary.
8. The people who stand on street corners trying to evoke liberal guilt so they can get your credit card info. I'm as liberal as they come and of course I support Planned Parenthood and donate to the Red Cross, but I will never respond to street-corner solicitors.
9. Most importantly -People who only pretend to listen to me, but are really fiddling around on their laptops/phones/other digital devices, forcing me to constantly repeat myself because "I never told them ___"

You Can Go Back Home Again, But Not For Good

Just as soon as I touched down at O'Hare, hopped the Van Galder bus to Rockford, and settled into my bedroom, I heard the news. Rockford, Illinois: 9th most dangerous city in America. Yes, I had grown accustomed to Rockford's annual appearance on the "Worst Places to Live in America," lists but I hadn't realized just how crime ridden Rockford has become.

For those friends of mine in Boston who think of Rockford as the hometown of the Peaches, the team from A League of Their Own, we are far from our World War II-era glory. Once the former "Screw Capitol of the World," a hub for manufacturing, we now boast one of the highest unemployment rates in the country and kids are getting shot at our movie theater. Not exactly good times.

Rockford is my home. It's in my DNA. Even transplanted across the country, my Midwestern mentality is unshakable. I prefer honest, open, hard working people to the entitled and pretentious. I respect self-made individuals. I prefer low maintenance to ostentatious. I am loyal to my sports teams. I enjoy dousing everything in nacho cheese.

There are many things I love about my hometown: my family lives here, my friends (the ones who have witnessed my entire development and still love me), its proximity to two of my favorite cities: Chicago and Madison.

But despite all these things, I can't allow myself to get too comfortable here. Yes, this is my home. It always will be. And I will always treasure my visits here. But I can't settle here again. I can't support a city where adoption services are shut down (displacing 300 kids) just because gay couples are allowed to adopt in the state. And while my education did me fine, I could not put my potential future children through the dysfunctional Rockford School District system.

Love ya Rocktown, but sooner or later, I've got to leave you behind.

This is a Tribute

Yesterday, I received a call that broke my heart: my grandfather had passed away. It was my grandparents' 60th wedding anniversary.

My ajja, Umesh Sanadi, was essentially the patriarch of my mother's family. After his father died and two of his brothers joined the British forces in World War II, and his older brother moved to the States, he became the provider. He managed the family estate. And he treated his many nieces and nephews as though they were his own children.

As a banker, I know he bounced around a lot due to work transfers and was often separated from his young children. Maybe because of that, he was a very devoted grandfather. I recall bouncing on his feet as a toddler and the Konkani nursery rhymes he sang to my brother when he was a toddler. He and I would daily take long walks to the park. And he would spend hours on the ground playing Uncle Wiggily and Monopoly with the grand kids. He'd endure hours of Scooby Doo and the Flintstones. And when I got older, he taught me card games, like 5-3-2 and rummy. And then when I grew older still, he taught me naughty phrases in Konkani.

My ajja was not perfect. But he was a good man. He was responsible and a hard worker, but always game for enjoyment. From him, I inherited the not-so-sweet Sanadi temper, my stubbornness, love of dirty jokes, and passion for storytelling.

I will never be a daddy's girl, but I will always be a granddaddy's girl.

Summer, summer, summertime

School's out for the summer, and for the first time in two years, I don't have to slog to work on the daily, stare out the window and wish against wish against wish that I could be outside soaking up some of that delicious, natural Vitamin D.

But you know me, I'm never happy with what I have. As of today, my only real plan for the summer is to work M-Th at my grad job at the college, 16 hours a week. Clearly, that's not enough to keep my ADD brain at bay. This morning, while chatting with one of my bestests, I came up with a summer plan. Humor me.

Goal 1: Get a freakin' internship already *another interview Wednesday ::fingers crossed::*
Goal 2: Go on some dates (seriously, where are the men in Boston hiding?)
Goal 3: Go home for some much needed recharging in Rockford.
Goal 4: Get in shape, so I don't have to feel embarrassed when my friends want to go to the beach/when it's so hot in my apt that I finally have no choice but to wear shorts.
Goal 5: Write something every day, whether that be a blog entry, an update to my memoir, TV pilot based on CCS, etc.
Goal 6: Visit my cabal comrades in DC and NYC
Goal 7: Read for pleasure!

These are all doable right?

Beantown Throwdown

Today is the real St. Patty's day and I am in Boston, a city that is known for its rowdy Irish population. I can't help but wonder though, will St. Patty's Day be a little bit of a let down following the madness that is Unofficial?

Unofficial St. Patrick's Day, for those who don't know, is when University of Illinois students celebrate St. Patty's, because that day usually falls during spring break. People set their alarm clocks and get up at 7 for sunrise cocktails, Baileys and coffee, and mimosas. Usually by 10 or 11 (a.m.) there are lines down the block at bars and drunk people from all over the Midwest have taken over the quad. People are gone by mid-afternoon.

Every year, hundreds of people get public drunkenness citations. This year was no different: http://dailyillini.tumblr.com/. Every year, there are many traffic accidents. And usually, someone winds up gravely injured.

I am in NO way condoning any of this violent behavior, and now that I'm older, I don't even think I could handle that kind of undergraduate drinking, but I will always be nostalgic. I'm pretty sure I can handle anything Boston St. Patty's throws at me.

Traumas

A draft of my digital story for computer class. I smoked the undergrads with my story. :) See if you can spot the exaggerations.


Dec. 7, 2009. The day I almost died. In hindsight, I should have seen it coming. There were so many bad omens – the fact that my boss almost forgot to book my airline tickets, a snowstorm the day of my departure, and the fact that my ride to the airport was named Heavy. But I was too excited to notice all these things.

I, along with my three coworkers – Paul, Dupree, and Cliff – was headed to a conference. In Vegas! It was a first for all of us. The anticipation had been building for weeks as we mentally planned out the sights … and the casinos and clubs … we’d be taking in during our down time.

Despite our 5 a.m. start time and the fact that we were crawling along at about 20 miles per hour, there was a positive atmosphere in the car. The music was turned up and smiles were spread all around. That is, until we hit a patch of black ice and I almost met my end along I-94.

As Heavy struggled to gain control of his SUV, we careened out of our lane in a sick kind of slow motion. The moment we began to skid, I braced for impact. I lost all feeling in my hands as I held onto the driver’s seat for dear life. I squeezed my eyes tight and didn’t open them again until I felt we were no longer moving. I’m not a religious person but I invoked the name of any higher power that my popped into my head. I just kept repeating this manta: Jesus, Shiva, Rama, Krishna, Buddha, Allah, Zeus, Jehovah ...
At the same time, I prayed that I would not have to go to the bathroom, a strong urge that had arisen before our car went off the road.

What seemed like a half hour journey probably amounted to just a few seconds. “Y’all okay?” Heavy’s girlfriend Tiffany called out. I opened my eyes. No scratches. I was shocked. I looked around. First, I glanced over at Cliff, who was seated next to me. He seemed to be in one piece. At least, he had the regular goofy look on his face. Then Paul and Dupree in the backseat. They looked fined too. Maybe just a little like they were going to be sick.

As we got out to assess the damage, some one pointed out that we just missed smashing into a signpost on our way down to side of the highway and into a ditch. Somehow, our car had averted an oncoming car, sped down a steep incline, and spun around, once again miraculously, to face the road. The car was a little worse for the wear but, no real damage was done. We had landed in waist high grass, but through sheer strength, the six of us – cold and scared, but feeling immortal – were able to push the car up onto the road.

Needless to say, we missed our flight. And of course, there wasn’t another for the next 10 hours. So we settled in at the airport bar, and toasted to a renewed outlook on life. Suddenly, these three guys I had barely known mere hours before were friends for life. Twelve hours and several rounds later, we were greeted by the bright lights of Vegas. The next three days were non-stop fun. New friends and new adventures. New sights and sounds. And a little bit of work of course. But in the back of my head, that whole week, I couldn’t help but be grateful for a second chance. And as I moved on from that job and embarked on each new chapter of my life, I recall that day as both one of the best and worst days of my life.

More from the mixed up files of Divya's lappie

The following is a blog post I wrote for class.


Baby, Be More Organized

Reality TV shows about motherhood are scary, but they’re not nearly as frightening as poorly organized essays. That’s my impression after reading Alessandra Stanley’s article “… And Baby Makes Reality TV.” She promises an analysis of motherhood through the reality TV lens (think 16 and Pregnant) and instead delivers a choppy summary of programming related to childbirth.

Initially, Stanley argues that the abundance of shows portraying the downsides of motherhood reflect a societal anxiety toward motherhood. Instead of romanticizing childbearing like entertainment news outlets (ahem, US Weekly), she claims true-life series like Teen Mom 2 and I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant illustrate the potential “dark side of giving birth.” Ok, makes sense.


Then, halfway through, Stanley loses herself. By trying to tackle too many aspects of childbearing, her essay becomes muddled. Suddenly, Stanley shifts her focus to society’s fear of women cheating nature. Here, she lumps together teen pregnancy and in vitro fertilization. Each could warrant its own essay.

Her last paragraph, which discusses delivering a baby in unstable situations, is disconnected from both angles. Pregnant and In Peril and Born on a Bad Day have no larger meaning for society. Except that it sucks to give birth when your life is in danger.


No matter how many puns she supplies or how colorful her vocabulary is, Stanley can’t compensate for a lack of organization. If she hadn’t diverged from her original thesis, her insights wouldn’t be so shallow. If only she had fleshed out her argument. Starting with why these shows are so prominent right now and ending with the media effects of viewing shows with negative treatments of pregnancy would have made her essay more powerful. Thoughtful organization goes a long way in directing good writing.

Stop Bastardizing My Favorite Movie

Singin' In the Rain is sacred to me. It is my pick-me-up movie. In my freshman year funk of depression, this No. 1 musical of all time was the one thing that could always cheer me up. I can't help but smile when I observe the absolute passion Gene Kelly and company put into this work of art.

Despite the fact that he died before I was ever aware of his talents, I've been in love with Gene Kelly since I was about 12. My best friend Katie and I could quote the dialogue back and sing you the lyrics to any of its songs. The wallpaper on my old lappie (may it rest in peace) was a picture of Gene Kelly in a sailor suit ala Anchors Aweigh.

Because it's such a recognizable, influential film, I can see why other people in show business would want to pay homage to it. But, nothing I've seen has been worthy.

Last year, JGL (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) tried to recreate "Make 'Em Laugh" during his SNL monologue. It was Okaaaaay. I'm only giving it a pass because it was JGL.



Then, Glee dedicated an entire episode to Singin' (the one with Gwyneth). Watching "Make 'Em Laugh" with Mr. Shue and "other Asian kid" was upsetting. I could see they were glee-full about the number, but they lacked that certain something that only Donald O'Connor could capture. He was a wiry, rubber-faced man with great tap skills. And nobody else can quite make me laugh the same way.

Glee also mashed up the title song with "Umbrella." I love me some Rihanna, but mixing "Umbrella-ella-ella-ella-ayyyy" with "Singin' In the Rain" doesn't work for me. The original is so classic. So effortlessly easy sounding. And damn if that isn't one of the best dance sequences EVER. Please don't try to recreate it. You will embarrass yourself.



And now, insult of all insults. Volkswagen launched a campaign in 2006 featuring tweaked footage of Kelly dancing iconic sequences from the movie. First they rolled out a reproduction of the title number, where something was a little off. Kelly was doing isolations and crazy legs. Apparently, three different hip-hop dancers reinterpreted his moves with a mask on upon which Kelly's face was superimposed.



Last month, VW premiered a Jetta commercial along the same lines. The second ad shows a segment of O'Connor and Kelly's "Moses" tap, except that they are sitting in the backseat of a Jetta, demonstrating how much leg room the new model has. Please stop using my beloved movie to sell cars.



Can't people just leave good enough (or great!) alone?

That's My Jam!

Last semester, my Intro. to Mass Media course was basically centered around the idea that as technology progresses, our relationship to the world changes in relation to that technology. Case in point: with the advent of iPods, people no longer have a "that's my song!"

My professor introduced the idea that waaaay back in the day, before pre-Walkman(there was a time before Walkman?!), people had no control over the music they listened to. Obviously, you have radio stations that fit your musical tastes, but with radio, you never know the line-up. When I'm driving around at home in Rockford, I still listen to the radio. So I know, when you hear that certain song on the radio, you're filled with delight. You have to turn up the volume and sing along. Since most people listen to music on their iPods nowadays, they get to determine their own play lists. And since they select all the music on their play lists, every song is their song.

Well, lately, I've come to realize my "that's my song!" (or rather "that's my jam!" moments come when I'm out in a public place and the dj (if it's a club/bar) or the sound system (in a store) plays a tune that renders my body is helpless in fighting the urge to groove.

Granted, I'm a hardcore ____ dancer. I chair dance. I car dance. In my apartment in Brookline, the only piece of furniture I can sit on is my bed. So I bed dance. I just have to jam when I hear a good beat. I lose control. When I hear certain songs, I just have to surrender. My shoulders shake. My head bobs. My hips swivel. It doesn't matter where I am. I could be at work, on the T, in a grocery store, ANYWHERE. I just have to hum along and at least get in a few shoulder shake.

In no particular order, these are the songs that send me into a dance trance.

1. Any track off of Michael Jackson's "Off the Wall."
More specifically, "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough" and "Workin' Day and Night." Can't. Control. My Reaction.

2. Stevie Wonder "Sir Duke" or "Higher Ground"

3. Prince "Raspberry Beret"

4. Another MJ track - "Wanna Be Startin' Something"

5. Daddy Yankee "Gasolina"


6. Punjabi MC "Beware of the Boys/Mundian To Bach Ke" or "Yeah" remix

7. MIA "Paper Planes," "World Town" and "Bucky Done Gun"

8. Kylie Minogue "Can't Get You Out of My Head"


9. Missy Elliott "Get Your Freak On"

Gotta stop now. Time for a dance break. :)

On Good Writing

This is a little mini-essay I drafted for my Advanced Writing course. We were prompted to answer the question What Makes Good Writing?

Fat kid that I am, I of course had to use a food metaphor to make my point. My prof. really enjoyed it, so I thought I would share.

How does one define good writing? That’s like deconstructing what makes something funny. Is it proper spelling? Maybe correct grammar usage? Or perfect punctuation? Sure, these are all important factors. But good writing can’t rest on mechanics alone. They are like salt and pepper – seasonings -- necessary ingredients added at the end of the cooking process. To create a flavorful meal, you first need to develop a substantive base. Next, stir in a pinch of spice. Then, and only then, season to taste.

Good writers, like experienced chefs, don’t need to follow recipes once they have mastered the basics. The real measure of a writer’s success is the strength of his or her voice. A writer’s tone and style must be powerful and evocative. Without these elements, words are just text without meaning. Good writing employs a narrative strategy that grabs readers and draws them in to another world.
Over the years, I have been advised that smart writing is well structured, has a clear objective and demonstrates conscious word choice. Thoughts need to be organized. Nothing should seem arbitrary or extraneous.

But what it all boils down to is how something makes me feel. I want to read literature that is purposeful and provocative. That forces me to react in some manner. Some writing sparks laughter from the depths of my stomach. Some writing unleashes a flood of tears. And still other pieces have made me laugh so hard tears started streaming down my face. If an essay, blog post, novel, or any other literary work challenges my thinking, then I will classify it as good writing.

These Are a Few of My Favorite Things

It's the end of the year and I'm a sucker for compilation lists. I mean, really, if I could just be a commentator on one of Vh1's "I Love the ..." series, my life would be complete.

So, here goes a rundown of some of my fav. things from the year 2010:

Movies




1. Black Swan - Long have I loathed the site of Natalie Portman in a film. This was the first time since maybe the Professional that I was able to separate the actress from her role and really enjoy her portrayal. And the cinematography was amazing; the visuals haunted me days later. Also, I'm a sucker for dance (especially ballet) films.

2. Inception - Ok, so, it probably wasn't the best movie of the year. But, it kept me on the edge of my seat. For the first time in years, I honestly could not guess where the plot was going to take me. Christopher Nolan proved to be a truly talented and thought-provoking writer/director. I suppose you could say Inception was the Avatar of 2010. I saw it on opening weekend with my fam, watched it for a second time with my friends, and each of them saw it for a second time with one of their friends. For the men in the movie alone, (seriously, Joseph Gordon-Levitt might be our generation's Paul Rudd) Inception was worth it. That it urged audiences to question reality at least until they talked to another viewer about it was the seasoning on the popcorn.

3. The Fighter - I just saw this movie a few days ago, and can I just say, I now firmly believe Christian Bale is the best actor of our time. He murders his role. Somehow he managed a more believable local accent than Mark Wahlberg, a Boston native. Wahlberg was not that great in the film, but everyone else delivered powerful performances.



4. Toy Story 3 - If this third installment in the Toy Story series doesn't move you in some way, your heart might be made of concrete.

Two Shockingly Good Movies

Scott Pilgrim vs. the World - Saw a lot of previews for it when it was in theaters and didn't understand what the hype was all about. And then I saw the movie on DVD last week. Absolutely hilarious. And full of memorable lines. Sure, Michael Cera plays Michael Cera in the movie, but that's what he does best, isn't it?



The (New) Karate Kid I'll admit it, I was suspicious. Anyone born in the '80s knows nothing can top the original Karate Kid, right? Here's the thing though, the new movie does not attempt to replicate the old. Sure, it's a disturbing display of nepotism given that Will and Jada basically just developed the film as a star vehicle for their son. But, you can't deny Jaden Smith's talent. And you've got to love Jackie Chan as the new Mr. Miyagi. I know he's one of the world's biggest superstars, but I feel as though this is the first time in American cinema he's really been given a part to chew on.

Favorite Books



1. Little Bee - I know some people think New York Times bestsellers are fluff pieces. Chris Cleave's novel couldn't be further from fluff. The engaging story alternates between the perspectives of two women from different ends of the earth who share one life-altering experience. I broke down crying quite a few times while reading this book. I would recommend buying it before it loses its integrity as a major motion film starring Nicole Kidman.

2. The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks - Just read this non-fiction book over break. My brother brought it home as UW Madison gifted each student a copy (hey, BU, where's my free book?!), and I stole it from him. Essentially, it is the story of Henrietta Lacks, a black women whose cells were stolen and harvested without her knowledge in the 1950s. Her HeLa cells went on to become the most famous cells in history, creating bioengineering industries and curing diseases like polio. This is a tale of injustice, of race in America, of medical ethics, and so much more. It's a MUST read for med students.



3. Push - Alright, this novel was released in the mid-90s. But since the movie Precious was based on Saphire's text, I read it last year. I was so moved by this short novel I had to stop reading it on my lunch breaks because I ate at my desk last year and I didn't want to embarrass myself crying in front of everyone. So glad I read it before I saw the movie. Honestly, books are so much more vivid and get away with so much more than one can ever demonstrate on film. (Sorry, film friends... it's just, the book is so much more graphic than people could ever stomach to watch.)

TV Shows

1. Parenthood - The best way to describe this movie is functioning-family porn. I don't mean that in a dirty way. I just mean that this show projects an image of a model family and I'm absolutely taken by its fantasy. The great thing is that each member of the family is flawed, but they all balance each other out. Yes, it's a corny drama, but it has so much heart. The actors - Lauren Graham from Gilmore Girls, Peter Krause from Six Feet Under and Erika Christensen are phenomenal.



2. Parks and Recreation - I think this show got off to a rocky start in 2009. But, all the elements of the show really gelled for me in its second season. I hate that NBC programmed it as some sort of mid-series replacement because I would like my weekly Aziz Ansari fix back. Like the Office, its cousin series, this show only works because of its fantastic ensemble cast.

3. Speaking on ensemble casts, I enjoyed those post-American Idol viewings of Glee last spring. This season, I haven't watched many episodes, and the ones I have seen were infrequent, so I don't really know what's going on. Those kids (well, twentysomethings in real life) are annoying. But they can SING. So, I have to respect them.



4. Ok, I must really have a thing for ensembles because Modern Family is another new favorite show. As non-traditional as the Pritchett clan is, they uphold traditional family values. It's all about the L-O-V-E. The Phil and Cameron characters, while slightly buffoonish, are just so damn likable.

Artists who impressed me this year

1. Nicki Minaj - I read somewhere that before dropping her debut album in November, the female rapper was featured on 11 Top-10 songs of 2010. When you hear her delivery, you know why. She elevated each and every one of those songs.



2. Drake - Before 2010, Aubrey (Drake) Graham was just wheelchair kid from Degrassi to me. And then "Over" and "Find Your Love" launched a double assault on me and I was a believer.



3. Lady Gaga - I know she's over-hyped sometimes, but not only does Gaga pen memorable songs, she's also a music video visionary and a fashion provocateur. (I am obsessed with her heel-less Alexander McQueen shoes.) Though I wasn't feeling the "Alejandro" video so much, I probably watched "Telephone" at least 100 times last year, no joke. Unlike Katy Perry (whose music I just don't get), Gaga stands for something. We may not always understand her intentions (as with the meat dress fiasco), but she's not afraid to be more than your average sex kitten songstress.

Fashion Trends

1. Military-inspired garb - Love those embellished jackets and lace-up combat boots. My M.J.-obsessed friends and I like to imagine this trend was revived as an homage to the King of Pop. I don't know if all that's true, but it happened. And I wish I could pull off the look.



2. Sequins not just for Golden Girls anymore - When you live in the Midwest, last year's coastal fashions are stocked in stores for longer than the trends last. And that's fine with me because I will never outgrow mirror-ball shiny sequin pieces. The gaudier, the more eye-catching the better I say.




3. Red lips - long have I bowed to the power of the ego-boost in a twist tube that is red lipstick. Last year, every magazine I saw told me it was the "now" look. Red is my little black dress of lip color, so for me, it will never go out of style. If only I could find the right lipliner to keep it from sliding off my lips, so I could sport red lipstick whenever I am out!

Well, I could ramble on for hours discussing my favorites and not-so-favorites in pop culture. So, I shall stop here.

I will just add that I am grateful for the last year. It was a year of great changes as I embarked upon a grad school journey in Boston. I have made some lifelong friends and grown to further cherish the ones I already have. Happy New Year all!

Is that My Clock I Hear Ticking?

My dear friends, I have something to admit to you. I've become a mushy person. As I enter the thick of my quarter life, I've become a ball of sloppy emotions.

This can be evidenced by the fact that every time I watch TV on my own these days, I break down. Literally, every day, something or the other seems to bring tears to my eyes. Tell me why I couldn't cry in my speech class when people bared their souls (Let me amend that ... I was moved, just not moved to cry), but yet, I'll be watching a corny-ass episode of NBC's Parenthood ready to bawl because Christina's just trying to get through her day without a Max meltdown.

Who is this person who feels the sharp pinch in her tear ducts and experiences a trickle of tears while watching reruns of Will and Grace? It was one thing to cry during the season finale of Showtime's the Big C, but openly weeping because of a Today Show segment (granted, Meredith was awarding thousands of dollars to a worthy non-profit and the couple running it was not embarrassed to cry on national TV). Ack. These days, it's like anything might set me off.

Apparently, the 24-going-on-25 year-old me is a big Ole' softie. I'll pretend to be nonchalant, try to be aloof even. But underneath it all, I'm a suburban housewife.

Whip My Hurr

I got my hair cut today! I think the last chop I had was right before my birthday in May. That means 7 months ago. My hair was at least mid-back length. I love my hair, but it was IMPOSSIBLE. It was like a bunch of rat nests strung together. So, I went to Jean-Pierre Salon on Newbury Street. My appointment was with Michelle, and she really seemed to understand the texture of my hair, unlike the last stylist I had.

Jean-Pierre was a sophisticated establishment and so easy to work with. I found a coupon in the Collegiate Couponbook for a $39 first-time cut. I called at 10 a.m., booked an appointment for 2 p.m., and was in and out by 3.

Above and below are the fulfillment of my need to shallowly document my new hair-do.

School's Out for Winter

Guys, I am 1/3 of the way done with grad school.
This is both exhilarating and frightening, as am I just that much closer to having to get a job again! YIKES

This semester was such a mixed bag of emotions. Lots and lots of highs, but as usual with me, much self-pity and neediness as well.

First off, I think I lost some weight in September because it was always so freaking hot and there is NO air conditioning in my apartment. Oh, I had two fans circulating at once, but they were no match for 101 degrees on move in/orientation day.

I spent much of September missing my Condo Crew from back home and sending them sad drunk texts at Comm events about how my new roommate was dancing with the gay guy I wanted to make my friend, or how no one but me was in to the reggaeton music at the bar, or how the T stopped running after midnight, so I had to unnaturally go out to the bar before 11.

October was a month for getting caught up in schoolwork. I had a mid-term, a mid-project report, and a middle of the semester crisis all due that month. I also constructed a friend square, which was a good support system, though it has since sort of gone on hiatus.

November was the month things started coming together. I got a little more comfortable in Boston. Enough so I could bluff knowing my way around town when my sistah from home came to visit. And by that point, everyone in my program knew each other, and I was really starting to bond with my "Comm Studies Coven."

And well, December has been a rush to the end. And now, the end has come. Somewhat anti-climatically because my final was made "optional," to which I said hell no, and now have a week to hang about Boston. So there has been some drinking. Mostly eating. (That weight I lost? Probably gained it back and then some.)And spending time with new friends before we all leave for a month.

It took a while, but I can safely say, I'm really enjoying my time out here.

Teens Get Nutty

Nutmeg... the new flavor of drug. Who would have known? Ignore the fact that seafood dude from Top Chef was called on to be an expert on this topic.



Apparently, one can snort or smoke nutmeg. Has anyone tried this?

When Less Is Just Less

Listen up, sassy undergraduate with flashy fashion sense, you are not Lady Gaga. Nor are you Beyonce. You might have runway dreams, but for now, you are living a dorm-room-mirror lifestyle. My time in Boston has been short – one month to be exact – but in that period, I’ve observed many a wardrobe malfunction.

Why, just the other day, a girl sauntered past me without any bottoms on. That’s right, no real article of clothing from her midsection on down. Her ensemble was as follows: a shirt that hit her at the waist and a pair of opaque tights.

It must have been embarrassing when she discovered she had forgotten to grab a skirt out of the closet when she got dressed in the dark. Or perhaps she was so proud of the underwear she had purchased that weekend, she just had to show her professor and classmates. Either way, the tights-as-pants look was beyond inappropriate for school. And confusing. Pants are not frivolous.

On another occasion, I witnessed a student hurrying to get to class. The girl was not wearing a shirt. Well, I take that back. Technically, her blouse could be categorized as a top. But since it was completely sheer and I could make out every detail of her bra, I don’t think it counts. A see-through top with just a bra underneath is just a tad bit overexposed for your 9 a.m. lecture. Just because Carrie Bradshaw on Sex and the City attempted the look doesn’t mean you should too. Remember that bird hat from the SATC movie? Exactly.

After 8 seasons of Project Runway, I understand that fashion is about taking risks and making a statement. Just make sure your statement is appropriate for your setting. When in doubt, consider this: What would Michael Kors say?

I’m not advocating collars that are buttoned up to the chin or floor-length skirts. I just want to let you know, what you wear reflects on you. Think about the message you are broadcasting to the world.

Boston Blues

Well friends, I thought that by moving to a new place where I know not so many people and starting school again, I'd be motivated to write like I did senior year of college. You know, when I attempted to updated this blog daily. Remember those days?

There has been so much to write about these last few weeks. First, the anxiety of moving. Prior to my move, I was simultaneously excited and scared. I was more than ready to get "on to the next one;" yet, I was terrified of casting away my security blanket. Though in the past I've had no problem slandering Rockford, it is my birthplace and will always hold a special place in my heart. Besides those four years in Champaign, that summer in Chicago, and a few odd months in India, it's all I've ever known.

Until now. I'm in Boston, baby. It's everything I thought it would be and many things I didn't anticipate. There are things about it I already love and things about this city/state that just mystify me. I've wandered around town for the last two weeks confused and disoriented. I've acquired new roommates and made some acquaintances who I hope will become friends soon. I've had one week of class so far and one day of assistantship training. It's all so new and overwhelming, I've had little time to reflect. Certainly you will hear more about these things in the future.

For the time being, I am still in a homesickness phase. Though I didn't cry at the airport or on the plane (I really shocked myself there), I can't help but compare my experience here to my life in Rockford or my time in Chi. So much about Illinois is in disaster mode right now, but there is much to love.

In a non-particular order, these are a few of my favorite - and some begrudgingly missed - things:
1. My amazing friends who are in some ways extended family. Indeed as much or as infrequently as I see these people, some of them whom I have known nearly all my life and some who I have befriended in the last few years, I often refer to these people as my “sisters” or my “condo crew.” They have made the last two years of living at home and working for minimum wage (and less) bearable.
2. Ridiculous work situations that have inspired me to write. Behind the Teller Line coming to a bookstore near you!
3. Beef-A-Roo – a true Rockford original indeed. Is there some way I can have cheese fries shipped out to Boston? I don’t know what sort of crack they slipped into their seasoned salt, but damn I could eat it on everything.
4. Our sense of pride in our little claims to fame. Ie: the invention of the Sock Monkey, the Symbol, Cheap Trick and Michelle Williams (not the actress, the third member of Destiny’s Child.) Nothing of Ben and Matt or Harvard-level fame, that's for sure.
6. I will always be grateful for the mixed high school I attended, the experience of which led me to seek out a UN crew of friends everywhere I go. Though I've only hung around BU for a week, I am desperately craving a rainbow coalition to align myself with.
7. Coworkers who behave like a dysfunctional family. I don't know any other kind.
8. Public transportation that runs into the wee hours of the night. Oh L, as dirty as you are, you were always there for me.
9. My proximity to the city of Chi. How I love thee.
10. Fast food that stays open after bar-closing time.
11. Chain retail stores - there's no Wal-Mart for miles and it takes two modes of transportation (bus and train) to get to Target. I miss cheap one-stop shopping.
12. Mid-westernisms : Saying pop and pellow (though I don't say that) and dipping everything in ranch/nacho cheese sauce
13. Since the flow of fashion to the Midwest was slow, I never had to care if my clothes were "on trend." Everyone here appears to be cut from the same Urban Outfitters/American Apparel cloth.
14. I even miss cornfields. I don't think Trader Joes sells corn on the cob!
15. Last but not least, my fam. They drive me crazy, but I’ve got to love them.