Day 6: A Spoonful of Sugar

There are certain things in life I have just grown to accept that I will never be able to do. For instance, roll my tongue into a tube. Twirl a basketball on my finger. Understand the stock market. Not give a mean look to anyone I see wearing a Duke hat or shirt. Hang a spoon off my nose. Until tonite, when I balanced a spoon on my nose - three times!
I think if nothing else, this project, and the ridiculous pictures that result from it, will make me less easily embarrassed.

Day 5: I lost my poor meetball, when somebody sneezed

I used to think that the meatball sub from Subway was the best thing to happen to the sandwich since honey mustard. But since eating the meatball aurora sandwich from Cosi, I've learned how foolish that was. Because the meatball aurora could kick the meatball sub's butt any day of the week. And do so with fresh basil, rich provolone, and "a hint of alfredo sauce."

I've had lunch at Cosi before, but today I did so by myself, in a cushy seat by the window, after which I sat and wrote on Francisco, my new computer, and people-watched.(Not my actual Cosi, taken from the web site.)

I also saw my first ever ad on a bus for Anderson Cooper 360. It was pretty awesome. But I was too shy to take a picture, so here is my interpretation:

Day 4: What is art?

When it comes to art, I like what I like and I don't like what I don't like. I can never remember period and movement names, and who goes where. I can tell the difference between Van Gogh and Monet, but not usually Michaelangelo or Raphael. I like art that makes me think, that reminds me of something else, or just evokes something in me I wasn't expecting. And if they're pretty. :-)

There are a few paintings that I can pinpoint as the first pieces of art I ever took an interest in, circa fifth/sixth grade. One of which is Hopper's "Nighthawks," which I remember in a literature book in sixth grade:
Today I saw this painting, as well as others, at the National Gallery of Art in a Hopper exhibition. I also saw an exhibition of J.M.W. Turner's work, a favorite of mine since viewing this painting, "The Fighting Temeraire tugged to her Last Berth to be broken up," at the National Gallery in London:
(This was not on view at our gallery.)

Hopper's had vibrant colors depicting very American scenes. Turner's were detailed and majestic, with some amazing landscapes. Examples of Turner's work: Time Magazine Slideshow. Examples of Hopper's work: Museum Syndicate's Gallery.

Day 3: Can I add this to my resume under "newspaper experience"?

As any good (former) news editorial journalism student knows, newspaper readership has been on the decline for the past ten years or so. People prefer to get their news from the internet or cable, or as it sometimes seems if you watch "Jaywalking" on the "The Tonight Show," get no news at all. I think no topic was discussed more during my journalism school tenure than how we would fare in a newspaperless society. (Always a cheery discussion in a group of future print journalists.)

So in light of that bleak future, I grabbed a piece of newspaper while it's still around, and made a newspaper hat. I thought they always looked kind of cool in movies, and thanks to Wikihow, made my own.

In progress
Ta da!
Modeling it on Paddington. Looks like he could live in it instead of wear it.

Slight adjustment when trying it on Audrey, my build-a-bear. I think she looks like a Pope.

Day 2: Cheesesteaks, cheeseburgers, cheesegoodness

It's hard to want to do anything, new or not, when I have a mountain of clothes and gifts to pack to go back to D.C. tonite, or when the wind outside is so fierce it forces your brother's truck into the next lane while he's driving. (I'm not so sure I believe that, I think he was just too busy singing the wrong words to a CCR song.) Nevertheless, today I went to the Andy's in Princeton for lunch.

I try to go to Andy's at least once when I'm home, usually with Joey, but I've never been to the one in Princeton. It was smaller than the others in town, and not as coolly decorated, but the food's the same and that's all that matters. I love going to a restaurant that got its start in Goldsboro, but has now spread all over Eastern North Carolina.

And, our waitress just happened to be named Bonnie. I never meet people in my age range with my name, so it was nice.

Day 1: Carolina Girls Welcome 2008

Welcome 2008, welcome 24, welcome day one of my mission to do one new thing each day for the rest of the year. To start it off, I ushered in a much-needed new year with cheap champagne, Anderson Cooper, and a new dress. More importantly, I spent New Year's in Chapel Hill/Durham with three of my best friends. Since entering the "real world," spending time together as a group is a too rare occurrence. But that doesn't matter when there are stories to be told and multiple group pictures to be attempted.
Any year that starts with laughing until you cry, surely will be a good one.
Happy New Year!

Not to be a Grinch but...

Note to all public transportation users in the D.C. metro area: that solid, albeit boney object that your elbow/bag/foot/arm/entire side of your body is repeatedly hitting, is ME. Yes, allowances are made in tight quarters at rush hour. The personal bubble area is significantly smaller, occasional bumps and bruised toes are the norm. But when you consistently hit someone, keep your deadweight arm on their lap for an ENTIRE bus ride, something is wrong.

And while we are at it, as I continue inching myself away from you, trying to meld into the window to get you out of my bubble, do NOT follow me. I'm doing it to get away from you, not to give you more room.

But on the upside, my morning bus driver gave everyone a peppermint this morning. City life isn't all bad.

One more week until Christmas. Four more days to home...

La Maison Blanche

In preparation of a year of new things, today I did a new thing. I went inside the White House. Yes, despite my voting record and the fact that I own Karl Marx's "Communist Manifesto," they let me in so I could see the Christmas decorations. I'm still on cloud nine about it. Full details, plus pictures of the lovely SNOW that covered our area this week, in next entry. Lovely weekend wishes for everyone!

A New Purpose

Exactly one month from today will be my favorite day of the year - which is foolish as there are 364 to follow - my birthday. But as I have become one of those people in recent years who have grown resistant, and quite bitter, to adding another candle to the cake, I don't really look forward to it as much.

(That's not entirely true. I love how I always end up with multiple cakes. How my mom always color-coordinates the wrapping for her anal-retentive middle child. And never ever having to work or go to school because it's a holiday, all over the world!)

But anyway, I briefly contemplated holding off on turning 24 - still collecting the cake and presents of course - and staying 23 for a few more months, because I do not feel I've gotten the most out of this year as I should have. The words "squandered" and "wasted" actually, come to mind.

But instead, I've decided to say good riddance to 23 in one fail swoop. Au revoir, you silly odd numbers! Arrivederci 2007, you kind of sucked!

In order to ensure that 24/2008 is more productive and appealing, I've decided to embark on a project, blatantly ripped off from here: http://jen365.blogspot.com/

Her explanation:

Last year for my birthday, I decided to do something I'd never done before, and I traveled solo to Paris. This year, I want to do 365 things I've never done before. Starting the day I turn 29 I will do one new thing every day until I turn 30. The things I've never done can be as simple as "wear a Florida Marlins hat" or "skip across Sheep Meadow in Central Park." I'm more interested in small, interesting weird things than big things like "skydiving" or illegal things like "drugs and stealing" or completely not-me things like "tattoos."

Thus, I have decided to do something NEW every day of 2008. No, really. I'll chronicle it all here, a post a day, if all goes correctly. I am getting rather excited about this and have already jotted down a few ideas.

But I need more! So please, whoever you are, whether we share the same blood or you have never ever met me before, suggest something. Anything, within the confines of decency, my morals, and my (meager) wallet. And preferably easily photographable to make this blog more bearable. Jen has done everything from showered with her clothes on (a possibility) to serenading a customer service rep (awesome but probably not happening). All ideas welcome.

To get it started, a list of a few things I HAVE done:

• Taken a vacation by myself.
• Rode in a pace car at a race.
• Walked barefoot in Chapel Hill, Durham, London, Paris, and Washington D.C.
• Gotten stamps at a non-stamp giving ATM when I wanted cash.
• Pulled an all-nighter. Or 20.
• Written in a paper journal every day for the last two years.
• Seen the Pope.
• Slept in the street for football tickets.
• Danced with an Argentinean.
• Gone to a hairdresser and just said "cut it all off."
  

Home sweet home

I write now from the comfort of home. Home home, as I like to distinguish from wherever I am currently living, and the place that remains home no matter where I go. I'm not a Thanksgiving person, but I am a home person, a family person, and it just feels good.

I like dogs at my feet, a pantry and refrigerators - yes, plural - packed to the brim. I like ridiculous conversations that no one else would get. I like how familiar everything is. I even kind of like my twin bed. (But only for the next few days.)

Yes, the slowed pace is already driving me crazy. And I can feel my accent getting thicker, which will only lead to teasing from those not lucky enough to be from here, but oh well. I get homemade rolls, a relish tray, and the Macy's parade. Carolina basketball coverage and lots of hugs. And of course, where else would I get to contend with a (self-appointed) Supreme Overseer and Dictator of the Clover Dinner Roll Distribution* and his attempts to impose a TATT -- trans-Atlantic traitor tax on me -- for missing last year's festivities?

Nowhere, thank goodness.

Welcome home, Bonnie. And thank you, God.



*AKA SODCDRD, AKA my little brother, Joey.