But seriously, it seems like each time I consider writing a post, something pressing intervenes.
You know, like Cinco de Mayo.
(This is the part where I binge blog with random tidbits and instagrams to make myself feel less like a slacker for ignoring this blog for most of spring.)
Here goes…
Twenty Something
Emily, in her infinite wisdom, forced a group of us to read this book:
Never in my life have a felt such a crazy cocktail of emotions. I read this book in a 36-hour, stressful window of my life filled with flights and major life decisions. Timing? Not great. Wisdom? Undeniable. Meg Jay, I want to high-five you, but I won’t because I should be acting more grown-up, shouldn’t I? I’ll shake your hand instead. Firm grip, firm grip.
If you are in your twenties and want to know why you should be forming your narrative, leveraging weak ties, being personally/professionally intentional and facing the realities of your biological timeline before you get a reality slap, then you should read this book. It’s worth your time.
Also, in related news, you can read about my “Quarterlife Crisis” here.
Bookworm
Speaking of literacy, I’ve been reading more than writing these days. I have a large bucket list of books to tackle before I once again enter a lifestyle where my reading is no longer selected, but assigned (more on that later). While I still have the luxury of choice, I want to take advantage of it. Suggestions are welcome!
The Defining Decade by Dr. Meg Jay
The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath (for my Banned Book Club! I know – I’m so cool)
A Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Everything by Fr. James Martin, S.J.
Captive Audience by Susan Crawford
A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole
Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
Women by Charles Bukowski (also for my Banned Book Club…obviously)
I’m enjoying the short window of spring loveliness before the full blown D.C. swamp weather encloses us all in a giant steam room for the summer. This area of the country is so pleasant during transitional seasons. I’ve been loving all the lunchtime walks, sunsets and picnics. I wish I could press pause, but I can’t.
Blankets of Blossoms
Sculpture Garden Strolls
A few beautiful people
The Edge of the Tidal Basin
It’s hard to mock tour groups when it’s so pretty outside
I’m currently debating whether I will still hold my vegan label in any official capacity. Basically, it would be nice to eat vegan 95% of the time without having to explain myself for offer up a disclaimer on my eating habits – especially to people I’ve just met. Can’t I just be a secret vegan in plain sight? Can’t I just eat whatever the heck I want without having to talk about it?
This topic deserves a post of its own. More later.
Graduate Student
Not yet, but soon! Huzzah for my new label and my upcoming academic adventures! I’ll let my spirit animal, Tina Fey, tell you where I’m going.
In case you were wondering, the previous title for this [long overdue] post was, “Cue Quarterlife Crisis.” Ugh – I know…so dramatic. I’ll spare the Internet the uncut emo, nonsensical ramblings of that now dead draft. Just know that, when I wrote it, I was processing my next life steps and, frankly, feeling a bit overwhelmed; I’m almost twenty five years deep into my life, yet there are grand questions I am far from answering and still others which are nipping at my heels demanding immediate attention. During times like these I cling to sanity by saying a prayer and listing the things that I know. So, here goes -
The Things I Know:
God has a plan for me. I am not filled in on all the details as of yet, but it’s there.
I am loved.
I often forget how loved I am.
I am lucky.
I often forget how lucky I am.
I do not have everything figured out.
Since my college days I’ve gotten better at taking risks.
I would rather look back and regret something I did than look back and regret something I didn’t do.
I am very good at wanting things. I am very bad at asking for them. I need to work on that.
When I turn Type A, can’t see straight, wallow in indecision, and seek temporary relief in endless charts and pro-con lists, I sometimes need something fleeting and beautiful to bring me back to earth. In other words, Thank God for the Cherry Blossoms.
Once Upon a Time there was a Buzzfeed article named, “The Disney Prince Hotness Ranking.” Due to the predictable wave of tweets, shares, and viral what-have-you’s that occur after any piece of 90′s nostalgia hits the interwebs, said article was easily tripped over by a young blogger named Denise. Seeing as it was Friday and she was feeling whimsical, Denise decided that she should email this article out to every similarly aged female she knew (who would, you know, not judge her). The resulting hilarious and overly opinionated email interaction has been recreated below with added visuals for good measure. By all means, enjoy…
Happy Friday! Read this —> Buzzfeed has penned what I started in my head long, long ago.
Reactions?
First, let’s clear up the obvious – Dimitri from Anatasia blows these dudes away. Also, SHANG and John Smith should be higher on this list. The nameless princes from Snow White and Cinderella have no business on this ranking – especially ahead of anyone Mel Gibson voiced. Prince Eric is too high. He’s too prone to mind control to be in the big leagues, but that’s just one girl’s opinion.
Also, animals are not contenders. Yes, Joceline I am talking to you and your odd attraction to adult Simba that I know for a fact you’ve had since college.
First of all, Denise, this is the DISNEY rankings, so just stop talking about Dimitri! If he were that great, he would have gotten himself a Disney deal, not some rando second-rate animation contract. Also, Dimitri had a questionable character and tried to basically sell Anastasia to further himself (rude) and he wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box to begin with. In the end, Anastasia totally defeats Rasputin anyways.
I agree that Shang should rank higher, because although he perpetuates chauvinist lyrics in “I’ll Make A Man Out Of You,” that song is EPIC and in the end he is secure enough in his own skin to be with a strong woman like Mulan, and to appreciate and respect her. HUGE points.
I love that Prince Naveen from the Princess and the Frog ranks high on this list. Yet another great example of a weak man that saw the light when a smart, driven woman came in his life, and he changed himself and worked diligently to be his best self with her.
Prince Eric is the PITS. THE PITS, I SAY. He was too dumb to figure out human Ursula wasn’t Ariel (hello, HOW CAN YOU MISS THAT SHE WAS A GINGER?) and was so vein that he had a statue made of himself. And he never considered becoming a mermaid for Ariel. Clearly, he’s selfish.
Flynn Rider (#4) is just a washed-up frat boy. Can we please just get rid of him and his disgusting hair flip ASAP?
The nameless Princes may remain in the rankings as evidence of weak early-era Disney character development, and as a warning of why pretty faces really only get you but so far in life.
I would argue that Simba has more admirable characteristics than all of these men, but we’ll save that for another day.
Most of them? dumb. as. rocks.
Finally! Thank you “Enchanted” – The perfect prince: not animated, beautiful luscious hair, and all about empowering women (we think, maybe….)
In defense of Dimitri, I only have the following to say: 1) John Cusak’s voice 2) collared shirts w/ rolled-up sleeves (sigh) and 3) a Sean from Boy Meets World haircut.
Need I say more?
Also, let’s not forget that despite his con man history, Dimitri can save you during a violent rainstorm, soothe you during a nightmare, wear a tux (like, WEAR it well), dance, and sacrifice everything for your happiness. Yeah, so don’t turn up your nose at Fox Animation, Emily. Mickey Mouse can’t have a monopoly on fictional dreaminess.
I agree with your judgement on Shang, Flynn, and Prince Eric. I forgot about that statue. Man, what a d-bag thing to do…
Can anyone shine light as to why the Beast is so highly ranked in this article? I mean, he was a cute human, but that lasted all of about two minutes.
Seriously – ranking the Beast that high based on his appearance as an animal – and actually deducting points for what he looked like when he was human? Pretty sure he should have been ranked last, precisely because as a furry beast, it’s impossible to call him hot or sexy. At least John Smith was human.
And Shang. Oh Shang. You are my favorite. Absolute crime to have not ranked him #1.
Stephanie:
One, this is the best email chain I have ever gotten, and I saw this ranking yesterday! I love it!
I was disappointed that Dimitri was not on the list, because as we all know, he embodies masculinity so completely that he without a doubt has two y chromosomes (like our good friend the Hoff), and therefore he should beat out all disney princes. But I think that Shang should have been at the top of the list too!
If I could have class discussion about these things I would have above a 4.0.
Disney wishes they had this swag.
But what do the MEN have to say about this ranking of fictional characters, you ask? Well, we have some input from a former guest blogger:
“Rawr, why do people keep calling today “love day” – is that a thing now? Someone was beheaded in roman times people! This is SAINT VALENTINE’S DAY! When you get beheaded, YOU can pick the name we call that day!”
epiphanies via email, sent 12:51am on January 24, 2013
I’m not sure what, but something about tonight made me feel super excited to be alive – like I was a giggly first year walking home in a crooked line toward the hazy, bright lights of O-Hill. I think I realized how many cool people exist the world that I haven’t even met yet…and some of them are actually the people I pass on the street everyday.
It seems like only yesterday I was celebrating my one month “vegaversary” with Emily at Sticky Fingers Bakery…
Well guess what? It wasn’t yesterday! It was A YEAR AGO. Time flies when you eat plants.
A co-worker gave me this fancy, vegan cookbook. I feel so spoiled!
OK, I’ll be the first to admit that I wasn’t always faithful to you, veganism. I strayed from your loving embrace during weddings, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. We have an open relationship, veganism and I, but I’ve been mostly faithful. It’s the diet I go home with at the end of the evening. It’s taken good care of me, so I plan to stick by it and work on our relationship.
(Because that’s what classy chicks like me do.)
I think everyone (including me) is surprised I have lasted so long. People still ask me what I eat on a normal basis. Based on their skeptical face scrunches, I think that they assume that veganism looks like an endless sea of salad and tofu. To correct this assumption and likewise commemorate my vegaversary, I’d like to post some more accurate visuals of the vegan experience.
(because, you know, I’m a good little Catholic girl)
by Denise
I have read Lolita 3 times in the past 6 years.
I wore a Gryffindor scarf while working on my graduate school applications because I thought it was funny…and, you know, it might bring me luck.
When I am alone in my car I sing along to Taylor Swift.
I notice odd things about the men I am trapped in metro cars with…like what they are reading on their Kindles…and if their dress shoes are acceptable.
I strayed from my veganism during the holidays. I have zero guilt. My body, however, feels like crap.
I have already started planning an Arrested Development “sick day” this coming May when the 4th season hits Netflix. You’re all invited.
My main motivation for giving blood has become the Mr. Tire’s oil change coupon the Red Cross gives me.
I cried sobbed when Tom Hanks lost Wilson.
There’s just something about a guy when he rolls up his sleeves…
The women in my knitting circle are currently educating me on how to take advantage of my 20′s. They do this as we all sit around and knit. The irony is not lost on me.
Since high school I’ve written things that I let no one else see.
I made far too many people sit through viewings of Troll 2.
Whenever someone in my office unecessarily prints out something freakishly long (one-sided, too), I Tina Fey-style roll my eyes like the bratty millennial that I am.
One of my most profound Christmas-related memories occurred in April of 2011.
At the time, I was in rural Bertie County, North Carolina helping with post-tornado clean-up. Those days I spent in that area remain a blur in my mind, even to this day – a blur of trash bags, jagged edges, empty lots, and lost people. Though I expected what I saw, I didn’t expect to see it the way I did. For, instead of staring at heaps of rubble I would’ve otherwise seen on television, my eyes tended to fixate on details like a wandering dog or a teddy bear in an open field.
It happened while I was gathering up trash between a section of forest and what used to be someone’s backyard. Somewhere under a pile of pantry items, wedged between the splintered pieces of a broken kitchen table, I found a wise man. He was porcelain and, after I dusted him off, I discovered that he was the one who carried gold. I slipped him in the pocket of my hoodie and moved on without a thought. Then, just near the edge of the trees by a jumble of torn books and some busted jugs of cleaning supplies, I found St. Joseph…a lamb….the Virgin Mary in her signature blue. None of them were broken from what I could tell. Why the tornado splintered furniture and kept those safe, I will never understand. After just a few more square feet of clearing I eventually found baby Jesus in a manger and an open Nativity Scene box.
After asking around, I managed to find the woman who had lived in that house. I eventually plucked up the courage to approach her and ask if she wanted to keep the set. The look on her face when I handed over the pieces is one that I will never forget. She seemed awestruck and sublimely happy to have something whole. She took the box gingerly and thanked me like I had just given her the greatest gift in the world when, in reality, I had just spent the greater part of the morning sorting through and throwing away pieces of her very real, very valuable life. I knew far too much about her; I knew the brand of shampoo she used, the authors she read, and what her granchildrens’ school pictures looked like. She knew nothing about me at all, but she thanked me like an old friend. Though this women had lost most of her material possessions in mere minutes, it was somehow still instinctual for her to be sincerely gracious – as though the painted wise man I handed her had been holding real gold.
Tonight at Christmas Eve mass, the priest talked about the Nativity in his homily – how such a humble setting in such an unknown city could become the birthplace of Christ, our ultimate Hope. The memory above resurrected clearly in my mind during his speech. For, last year in that forgotten rural section of North Carolina, someone likewise extracted hope from a mini porcelain replica of that original Christmas scene.
I’m twenty-four years old and I still wonder at such suffering. I expect I will for the rest of my life. Still, these twelve days of Christmas do not fixate on the suffering to come, but instead anticipate the redemption to follow. I’ve never recorded this particular memory, partly because it’s been difficult to make sense of and partly because I think I’ve been waiting for the right time. Something about tonight seemed like the perfect time.
I hope everyone has a very happy, merry, blessed Christmas!
Oh hey college person I just met. Let’s be friends and take a quirky picture at the Downtown Mall just because. Hey look, you’re really light – or I’m really strong! We’re super cool. Now let’s sing the Sound of Music.
Fall, 2008
Huzzah for apartment life, roomie! Hey, remember when we were awkward first years forever ago and posed in that pic? Yeah, let’s do that again. Wait, you’re dropping me! Ack! Upper body strength…not what it used to be…where’s my Powerthirst?!
Fall, 2012
With the age and sophistication of our collective years came equal parts beauty (duh), whimsicalness (see moose hat), nostalgia (see this post) and a classy willingness to crop out inappropriate parts of pictures. When did we get so grown up?
Joce, I request that we forever document our aging friendship in this manner.
I spent most waking hours (and most sleeping hours, actually…) in the east wing of this library. T’was my home.
We’re U.Va alumnae through and through on this blog. Characteristics to expect from a Wahoo: incessent quoting of Thomas Jefferson, a deep appreciation for good (and sometimes very bad) bourbon, the ability to preach about the [uncomparable] liberal arts based, public education we benefited from, and the shameless pun-happy insert of “HOO” into unsuspecting phrases and sentences.
This of statue of my BF Homer has seen many a naked person. Oh wait – JK. He’s blind.
Emily, Joceline and I all enjoyed a happy Homecoming Weekend filled with nostalgia, picture-taking, ice cream cakes, greenery, foliage, sweet tea, bow ties, crowd control, and Cook Out.
Oh, and I believe there was a football game somewhere in there…maybe.
Despite a recent trip to Texas in which I deviated from my usual vegan ways (FYI, brisket and Blue Bell ice cream = delicious, but not vegan), I went back to my veggie-filled routine with ease. This is good news. Apparently there is no wagon for me to fall off of. If I slip, I shall not fall. If I eat a bite of barbeque, the floodgates shall not open and the world as I know it shall not end. I flew back to our nation’s capital after my trip and ate some kale chips. My taste buds don’t miss the dairy, but I could, however, hear my insides (probably my arteries) sighing with relief.
Also, now that it’s autumn. I have an excuse to put pumpkin in everything.
Like these cookies:
Or this pasta - hands down my go-to recipe of the season. I know it looks strange, but don’t judge it til you’ve tried it!
Yarn Lady
Each year at exactly this time I get the natural urge to start knitting. It’s like my body can sense the chilly weather approaching…as if Ned Stark is whispering in my ear, “Winter is coming...”
As Joceline can atest to, this urge sometimes makes a girl do crazy things. For instance, it can make you knit in public or start a baby blanket when there is no baby recipient in existence yet. In my case, I found myself spontaneously joining a ladies knitting circle at my federal agency which meets in a conference room during lunch once a week.
It’s like Fight Club.
But with yarn.
And, you know, I don’t keep it a secret. In fact, I discuss it with pride.
As you can imagine, I am the youngest person in this knitting circle [by a few decades], but I do not care. I only care that I can knit without shame outside my apartment at least one a week…and that there are other people around to enable this odd habit [that I never plan on giving up, damn it].
So, now that I have all of this crafty support surrounding me, I find myself becoming ambitious. Behold, friends – this is what you will all be receiving for Christmas:
Or, at least, something vaguely resembling this picture?
If you would like something else, check out my Pinterest project page and tell me what you want!
Nerd
First up, five things that I care about right now (that no one else really follows…):
Bertie County, NC has a New Tech Center I spent a great deal of time in this community last year (most memorably, during this post) and I’m so pleased that my old nonprofit is still working there and they are making strides in community partnerships and broadband adoption.
And if the above list does not prove my nerdiness, perhaps these visuals will do the trick:
Exibit A: “Mary Poppins shoes” (as described by my amused, observant co-worker)
Exibit B: The Cardigan Chain
Young D.C. Professional
I survived the sweltering D.C. summer, the new Rush Plus Metro system (BLERG), and some exciting baseball times (NATTITUDE!). I went the entire year without showing outward annoyance when I spotted someone reading 50 Shades on my metro car and - on the reverse side of things - went the entire year without gushily (that’s a word, I’ve decided) geeking out when I spotted someone reading Game of Thrones. I also discovered the perfect mojito. Well, now autumn is upon us and, in addition to loving the changing/falling leaves that surround me, I’m also loving my significantly lower power bill. Basically, it’s a good time to be young in D.C.
TEDDY WON!
Hapa
I have come to realize that my wise mother has passed on to me a deep arsenal of knowledge concerning the greatest Asian food in the D.C. metro area. This occurred to me when someone randomly asked me a question about dim sum at work and, somehow, I was able to list off (with authority) the greatest neighborhoods/specific resturants for different types of Asian cuisine in D.C and Northern Virginia. What? How is it that others do not know this vital information? Is it not normal to have such knowledge at the top of your head. Where did it come from? Oh yeah, probably from here:
Mark’s Duck House – Falls Church, VA
Vegetarian Pho exists and it exists at Nam Viet in Arlington and Cleveland Park!
Janeite
Lately I’ve been self-medicating with Jane Austen. Specifically, I’ve revisited Pride and Prejudice for the first time in over three years. This, of course, was a fabulous decision (as it usually is).
Buuuuuurn
Each time I reread this book I feel like I learn something new about my dear friend Elizabeth B. I think I noticed more evidence of her vulnerability in Austen’s narration during this particular reading. Austen probably lets Elizabeth speak the most out of all of her heroines and, because Lizzie is rather charming and witty, it’s easy for her to keep an emotional distance behind her dialogue.* I used to think Lizzie’s loud voice made her one of the most strong and open of Austen’s ladies, but now I would argue that such a claim is over simplified.
Oh Jane, I will never stop reading you and you will never stop surprising me.
So ends my crazy long life post. Forgive me if your fingers are tired from all the scrolling. The pain was unintended, I assure you.
Lemon out.
*I say “lets Elizabeth speak” because there is a difference between an author directly quoting a character (aka allowing them to speak without a filter or lens) and an author describing/summarizing a conversation or speach to the reader. Obviously, the first gives the character more power and allows the reader to evaluate said character from a primary source (their actual words/mode of expression). While Elizabeth is often given the privledge of that first method, other characters’ words are more often expressed through the second. Anne Elliot, for instance, is the shy, introspective heroine from Persuasion and – more often than not – is an observer and a listener. Most people surrounding her do not truly listen to her, so, as if to comment on this, Austen often mutes Anne’s voice through her own method of storytelling. Another, more satiracal example of this can be seen in the way Austen writes Mr. Collins, the silly, rather pompous clergyman from Pride and Prejudice. The first time we meet him, though he speaks a great deal, Austen chooses to delay directly quoting his voice until the following chapter. By doing this, she can instead focus on the comical reaction to his diatribes (rather than the content of them) and undercut his power in the mind of the reader. Afterall, such a silly man need not be tolerated or listened to by his fictional counterparts, his real-life reader audience, nor his author and creator, Jane Austen.
God had a special plan in mind when he created someone so kind – a person with dignity and pride. He gave that person a generous love, a strong faith with guidance from above, then placed a great and tender heart inside. Then God, according to his plan, provided for this special man a family of his own to love and raise. So, faithfully, the man believed and, blessed by love, his own received the gift God gave through him in endless ways. And though his children now are grown and this man has gone to a heavenly home, he’s still providing for his own a love that, like the Lord, is strong and great. He was a grandfather – God’s work of art – who nurtured many hearts with a love that took a lifetime to create.
Today, Emily D. got me thinking about Sabrina, a favorite old movie of mine that hasn’t crossed my mind in a long time. Then, as though by magic, Audrey’s voice started to echo in my head…
“It is late at night and someone across the way is playing La Vie en rose. It is the French way of saying ‘I am looking at the world through rose-coloured glasses.’ It says everything I feel. I have learned so many things, Father. Not just how to make vichyssoise or calf’s head with sauce vinaigrette, but a much more important recipe. I have learned how to live, how to be in the world and of the world, and not just to stand aside and watch. And I will never, never again run away from life, or from love, either.”
Oh Humphrey*…Oh Audrey…
You know what? Sometimes a girl’s got to embrace her romantic, sappy impulses and post on her blog about La Vie en Rose for no particular reason. That’s just the way it is, folks.
Audrey would approve, methinks. =)
*Where have all the Humphreys gone? I have met zero people named Humphrey in my life. I find this a sad.
