Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Seattle: She's a Spiteful City


Along with my dignity, my umbrella didn't survive the weekend. And, pathetically, this is not the first time I've taken an umbrella out carousing and managed to leave it in the dank corner of some dive bar; apparently I've made it my personal mission to sprinkle the city of Seattle with them. Good for other patrons looking to stay dry upon departure, bad for me and my anemic bank account.

That being said, the fact that I was umbrella-less somewhat embarrasingly didn't even come to my attention until this morning, when I awoke to torrential downpours ("oh, it only MISTS in Seattle" - yeah, right) and then had to strategize the best way to puddle hop with the 17 bags, 3 meals and 2 changes of clothing that my 12-hour stints on campus require. Why? Because this entire weekend - as I laid on my friend's futon, while guzzling fruit punch Gatorade and cursing the high heavens for my inability to fend off whiskey gingers - it was absolutely gorgeous out. Why, WHY is it only on miserable, monsoon-like days that I need to be out and about? And why, on the days that I most closely resemble the walking dead, does the Northwest weather insist on being absolutely idyllic?

And, thus, this morning en route to the Women's Center, I careened into the closest Bartell's, all bulk and bags and bright green windbreaker, desperate for whatever they had to offer. My choices were limited (2), my mind still groggy, the fluorescent lights disorienting, and, due to my disdain for fuschia, I walked out with an umbrella that is, upon reflection, the color of ecto-cooler. Paired with my neon green "rain jacket" (it ceased repelling water about 3 months ago), I pretty much rival Wally the Green Monster. Good for biking at night, bad for getting people to take you seriously. Next time there's a rain storm, you'll easily be able to spot me from a mile away. But, if you don't come over to say hi, I really don't blame you. Here's to hoping that I lose this new umbrella real fast.














Monday, January 3, 2011

Happy holidaze off

So, as it turns out, watching the final season of Lost on your 6 hour flight from NY to Seattle is not the most comforting choice of in-flight entertainment. That, mixed with a healthy dose of turbulence for about 30minutes over the Rockies, confirms it: the more I fly (and honestly, I've flown quite a bit), the more uneasy I'm now becoming about flying.

I know, I know. Even I'm struck by how ridiculous it sounds. I just keep imagining the plethora of things that might go wrong while hurtling through the air at 30,000 feet. Mixed with a few horrible experiences - the first being a deathly plague (parading as faux malaria with high fever, nausea and non-stop vomiting) that struck me as we returned from Ghana and the second being the terrifyingly intense turbulence last time I flew back to Seattle - I find myself anxiously clutching my seat during take-off, landing, and any little bumps in between. It is not pleasant, it is simply unacceptable. I love traveling. This simply will not stand, self!

Aside from my increasing aircraft unease, the holidays were as glorious as expected. Four fun-filled days in Boston followed by two weeks of fabulous-nothingness (the technical term for family and friends, non-existent agendas, careless midday jogs and card games over casually consumed beverages). Other than a brief jaunt to Jersey by way of Staten Island to accompany Dad to his company Christmas party (see photo, left), the lackadaisical weeks were spent with the siblings sans 1 and a handful of HS friends on Long Island. The only downfall? Heathrow's inability to get it together, detaining the twinage and (most sadly) holding her hostage in the U.K. for the holiday (snow plows? Salt? Something? Anything?!?!).

Coming back from any extended East Coast visit, I need at least 48 hours to adjust, mope around, seriously miss some folks, and indulge in bittersweet nostalgia. While I don't plan on moving back to Long Island (Suffolk/SWR) any time soon (or, cough, ever, cough), it holds a very special place in my heart. Thus, I can't help it; I think this video is hilarious and disturbingly accurate (please note how 75% of this video is staged either on a parking lot or in front of a fake waterfall, inevitably at a banquet/reception hall). Oh, home.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pBHpY-5gigY&feature=related

And, finally, welcome, 2011!
This new year marks:
a) My first high school reunion: 10yrs (oh-em-gee, I am aging rapidly). Which means, it's been exactly one decade since I began my stint as an undergraduate, first starting at NYU. An absolutely life changing experience, involving standing in Washington Square park and watching the twin towers fall, living in Manhattan as an (let's be honest, naive) 18yr old, first learning how to use oil paints, and meeting some uniquely awesome individuals and hopefully lifelong friends.
b) The completion of my master's degree (well, fingers crossed).
c) Another fabulous year, hopefully filled with even MORE fantastic folks and fun times.

Eh, that's all I've got for now. But, let's go 2011, best year ever!

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Socially Sanctioned Gluttony (and the Great Seattle Snow Storm)

And my blog has come full circle (please see "Simpler Times" entry, circa December 2009), as I now find myself writing about my second Thanksgiving here in Seattle, with what are now (after a year of serious studying and dedicated drinking) good friends, and chock full of what can be now classified as (having established the extensive history of "twice") annual traditions.

So, happy (belated) Thanksgiving, all! My favorite holiday of the year. And, what a Thanksgiving it was, held at the same spot as last year, featuring the same superb cast of characters and sustained by the same signature holiday beverage.
  • Pilgrim Punch [pihl-grum puhnch]: (noun) an intoxicating beverage, incorporating apple brandy, bourbon and cranberry juice with a splash of lime, consumed in ceremonial or celebratory situations.

I make no effort to conceal the fact that, when in each other's company, my friends do enjoy the occasional brew or two. Thanksgiving was no different; the hedonistic festivities commenced early in the afternoon with betting (clearly the only way to enjoy viewing the National Dog Show. I ended up down $3, but at least I now know what an affenpinscher is), followed by more betting and boozing (again, how else is one to suffer through two football games, back to back? J-E-T-S, Jets, Jets, Jets!) and then a meticulously prepared meal (formal menu and all), a la our resident (and extremely talented, if I may add) chef. The 11-hour marathon of merriment ended with, yet another timely Thanksgiving tradition, a rousing game of Kings. Clearly, no gathering is complete without it. And, sure, while it's been acknowledged that most individuals lose interest in said drinking game by the time they graduate from college, it seems we're all pretty comfortable with bringing this game with us well into our 30's; it just never gets old.

On another note: Nothing makes the holiday season like frigid weather and unpredictable snow storms. Seattle got a pretty good dose of this just before the 25th. Ultimately, it was just a dusting by Northeast/New England standards (a couple of inches, maybe?) but the lack of plows, sanding, and all that jazz, paired with the insurmountable hills shut the city down for a good 24 - 36 hours. My first school snow days since, yikes, the 1990's...?

I now give you a little glimpse of the magic that happened out on the streets:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rhZCyQ3emQg
(It gets pretty awesome around minute 3, though the whole thing is quite entertaining.)


Thursday, November 4, 2010

What's in a word?

Well, just about everything.

This morning in Queer Theory, we were told that the Women Studies department is quite possibly being renamed as Gender, Women and Sexuality Studies. Is this a big deal? Well, yeah; it's the careful and intentional manipulation of terms, which in my opinion signifies that there are far bigger factors at play, aside from a simple switch of a moniker. Maybe women's studies is a unique field; embedded within the name of this young department is the history of a social movement, the intentional visibility of a once marginalized social group, the delineation of a unique space for the production of innovative scholarship and the creation, validation and acceptance of new knowledge. Does the title "Gender, Women and Sexuality" erase this history and gloss over the department's initial political function of naming, defining and ownership? Eh, I don't know. Conversely, does the singular title "Women", or at other universities "Women's", Studies limit scholarship, fix polarizing, binary notions (man/woman, heterosexual/homosexual, nature/nurture), ignore the experiences of other subjugated groups, diminish the interconnectedness of race, class, ability, and sexuality, etc., etc., etc.? Then again, does a simple name change prevent ossification and/or adequately address these critical considerations? Or, does it simply mask the very same spatial and scholarly arrangements? Again, I haven't formed a concrete opinion on this yet. Other universities boast varying iterations - "women", "feminist", "gender", "sex and sexuality", "queer" - and while I'm sure you could argue that these terms infer about a bazillion things, no matter how you slice it, none of these combinations could possibly illustrate the entire breadth of courses that these departments offer.

Consider just how ambiguous and fluid most commonly held concepts really are, and discourse becomes absolutely fascinating. Single words hold, and have held, a multitude of meanings depending upon specific times, spaces, places, geographic locations. String them together in varying ways and throw them into different contexts, and you can complicate interpretations, rock a double entendre, co-opt for political purposes or subvert the potentially oppressive. As I mentioned queer theory earlier, "queer" is an awesome, albeit pretty obvious, example of a word thats malleability has lent it various meanings; from shame, offense and aggression, to appropriation, reclamation and empowerment. And, despite it's ubiquitous use over the past decade, when wielded in an intentionally vitriolic manner by individuals in specific contexts, the word still holds the power to abet unforgivable verbal violence, as is evidenced by recent current (and heartbreaking) events. As with many recent queer theorists, I'm absolutely in awe of academics (and activists and, well, just about anyone) that can not only construct articulate intellectual arguments but at the same time trouble the institutionalization of the very disciplinary locations that they use (necessarily) as forums to present information. Because, whether it's "women's studies" or "gender studies" or even "queer studies", how much does it matter? Slapping a label on anything both empowers (in the ability to name and define) and simultaneously limits (by needing to define and thus set firm boundaries), right?

So, the purpose of these arguably inarticulate and likely verbose, musings? Eh, they're fairly self-serving; there's not much purpose other than killing some time on an uneventful Thursday evening. But, constantly and critically questioning seemingly cemented categorizations can have some very real consequences and provide interesting (helpful? positive? productive?) perspectives. I mean, take education. Beyond higher ed and squabbles over department names, what about the basic, every day terms that we commonly toss around, like success, achievement, underrepresented, minority, disabled...? All come with a slew of assumptions and, at the same time, a certain degree of ambiguity and constant fluctuation.


Oh, and here's an additional note that's sure to inspire some thought: the recent proposal to create academic space for deconstruction and empowerment of individuals that identify as, or are perceived to be, fat. Fat Studies and the Fat Acceptance Movement.

http://www.thedailybeast.com/blogs-and-stories/2010-11-03/fat-studies-colleges-hot-new-course/

http://bitchmagazine.org/tag/fat-acceptance-28


Thursday, October 21, 2010

Wine and Wineries: A Win-Win

Tonight I had the pleasure of tending bar at the re-opening of UW's Women's Center, a role that I'm now familiar with (over the past year I've been the bartending at Henry Art Gallery events) and decidedly in love with. There is a distinct possibility that bar-tending is my calling in life (or, you know, a side career). Let's look at the facts here, shall we? I get to socialize with copious amounts of fresh (well, at the start of the night) faces for 2 to 3 minute intervals (which, by the way, is the perfect amount of time before the "hi, nice to meet you" conversation gets stale), discuss the evening, answer questions about the wine, and feel good about sending them on their way with a compliment or a witty remark. And, all the while, I lightly sip my own, complimentary beverage and take in the scene while chuckling at my inner monologue (and, likely, judgments). In fact, I am currently enjoying a tasty glass of tonight's Pinot Noir (my favorite... This one isn't bad: Main Street Winery, Napa, 2008) with my roommate, a reward for all of my enjoyable chatting earlier this evening.


Speaking of wine (and, um, tasting it), this past weekend I had the pleasure of leaving schoolwork and stress behind with about a dozen friends as we headed to Leavenworth for an Oktoberfest celebration. For those unfamiliar with this bizarre little town, it's nestled in the Cascades, about 2.5 hours outside of Seattle. Seriously, this "alpine Bavarian village" is fashioned like it's straight out of Germany (circa the 1800's) and was all sorts of abuzz for this festive event; it was, in short, totally nuts.




Somehow, between polka dances, giant bratwursts and beer steins, a few of us managed to sneak away for about 4 hours to check out the spoils from local wineries. Though mildly fuzzy, I'm confident there were two tastings and two bottles of wine involved, paired with scintillating conversation. The wine was most certainly awesome (Nebiollo?), the overall day/night/36 hours was fabulous, and the verdict? Everyone should check out Leavenworth, especially during the month of October.



And, in case you're interested in checking it out further...

Leavenworth, WA
http://www.leavenworth.org/modules/pages/?pageid=1










Sunday, September 12, 2010

Back to the Future!


It's been nearly two weeks since I left Seattle for my September voyage to the motherland and I honestly have no idea where the time went. I had all of these grandiose plans: drive up to Boston, visit Vermont with Chels, perhaps even visit our brother at his college in upstate NY and swing by my alma mater for nostalgia's sake. Alas, nothing (aside from trips to the beach, jogs, and some quality twin time) has transpired. We joke how coming home for extended periods of time is like falling into a black hole, a tear in the space-time continuum, entering a place where hours, days, even whole weeks pass with simply no explanation as to how those minutes were actually spent. And, in the meantime, as you puzzle the previous day, you find yourself happily fed, well rested, and completely relaxed (if not somewhat lethargic). While our current vehicle of choice neither runs on uranium nor is it a snazzy early '80's delorean (it's actually an older Volvo xc90, with Vermont plates and bumper stickers reading "My Other Car is a Bicycle" and "Namaste") when it's run the speedometer, odometer and gas gage all freak out, the needles spin around, and the lights blink on and off, somewhat resembling Michael J. Fox's time traveling automobile.

Moving right along... Ah. Long Island. Many, many folks in the Northeast (and now perhaps across the nation, thanks to MTV's cash cow The Jersey Shore) mock Jersey and Long Island, and the population that resides here. Even as a born and raised native of this colorful region, I too take cheap shots at the grating accents, often over the top style and copious amount of "pizzaz". It's funny. I can't resist. However, there are some simply wonderful aspects of this area, my favorite being the L.I. Sound. I grew up down the street from the beach, and I cannot imagine living anywhere permanently that doesn't boast some sort of coastline. As tweens pre-license, it was an escape within walking distance. As teenagers, a spot for carousing and consuming. Now, with only a few weeks to enjoy what I used to see every day, I'm in awe of how beautiful it is each and every time I go down for a jog, swim, or just to watch the sunset. A-mazing.





Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Seattle's Figure Drawing


The best part about this summer? Remembering how to draw - oh, and also how much I love it.

$8 drop-in at a gallery downtown + an awesome, thoughtful and unbelievably interesting coworker = the perfect summer Saturday mornings.
Models vary each week and most are pretty talented (their poses are dynamic, creative, fairly still). These are a few selections of 2 to 25 minute sketches... Ok, so they don't translate terribly well to the (rapidly proliferating) art of digital photography but, you know, it's all I've got.


2 to 5 minute poses:















The longer poses, 25 minutes: