"People fascinate and enrich you"

If you've ever read your horoscope, no news here. It's just that today I'm feeling extra vulnerable, so you can tell me anything and I'll probably write a blog post about it.

Setting: I'm sitting by myself at this restaurant, sipping on the last of my cold coffee, about to go home and get ready for a friend to come in for the night.  And this old spiritual man who's always around- he hand-crafts everything from wood tables to metal sculptures for my boss- comes by and starts telling me about my lucky numbers for the day. This is nothing new. It's just who he is. Getting your daily lucky numbers is probably not typical for a normal person at a normal job, but I always try to accept the distraction and listen to the man. Partly to be polite, partly because he's so convincing, it's a bit of a brainwash.

So because today is the last day of the year, it is a very telling time for someone to have their numerological oracle read. Naturally, I got my numerological oracle read.

It is by far silliest thing but I'm counting it as a way to ring in the New Year. The old man takes me step-by-step through this sketchy website that makes me click on the forbidden green arrow and downloads this program on my computer. I'm cringing waiting for my computer to electrocute itself and crumble into ashes. But there's no turning back. This man is standing over my shoulder and he's really serious about it. He's not leaving until my destiny arrives on-screen.

"Remember," he says, "you can only do this once in your lifetime. No re-dos."

A 73-page document tells me things that I've never, yet always knew about myself. Some passages make me very excited to be age 38.  Others tell me I'm really in for it for the next few years. But like any good magic, as I'm reading I'm like YES. THAT'S ME. HOW DID IT  KNOW. Even the parts you wouldn't want to admit about yourself, you secretly agree 100%. I'm reading it and reading it and loving every sentence.

I get that it's stupid and generalized and not real or whatever. It's hard not to be skeptical about some probably randomized system "reading your soul." Scam. Creepy, even.

But what if it's not? If anything, it gives you this renewed understanding of yourself. Validates your confusion about life. Reminds you that you have all these good things about you. You're going to struggle and forget you're awesome. But here's your reminder. And scam or not, that's priceless.

Magic? Numbers? Stars? God? Nope. Just the old spiritual man hanging around the restaurant.

I'm believing every word. Can't wait for 38!

hello again

Currently figuring out how to upload a pdf onto blogger aka updating my portfolio

Colors

Sparkling black, like the sky before it storms

Bright pink, like the coral in the sea

Turquoise, like hope from the earth 

Burning red, like bond so deep between two people it catches fire 

Icy rain, white skies and nachos

Being that I'm in the real world now and that Christmas break isn't a real thing, I'm trying to make the most of my Christmas spirit on the weekends. I've been kind of blue-sy lately for no particular reason other than it's cold and my skin's dry and I like to subconsciously convince myself that that's a good reason to be sad. But I got the teeniest tree at a little tree farm for $10 and it's the best thing because not only does it smell deliciously wintry and fits perfectly next to my TV stand, it's so light that I could carry it from my car into my apartment by myself WITH GROCERIES, in one trip, without looking like a lumberjack.  I went out looking for a tree stand first at Costco with no luck then Home Depot where they only had big ones for 8 footers. And as I'm walking back to my car I see a dad and kid tying their 8-footer to their mini van and there on the ground is a tiny little tree stand. Immediately I turned around and asked where in the world did you find that perfect little stand. The dad picks it up and hands it to me and said they got it last year but they wanted a bigger tree this year so here, you can have this one, Merry Christmas. And that was my reminder that people are good and that blue-sy or not I should be good back to them.

So here I am having a mango tea wishing I was living in summer and that my skin wasn't so dry. But I'm not and it's winter and without even trying, this little tree makes very happy it is.

Project Vintro

Haven't written on here in a while so even if it takes me a sec to get back to blogging, why not a little update?

Luxury boutique Hotel
Park Avenue, Miami
And a hotel restaurant by Giorgios Group
AND A ROOFTOP POOL (!!!)

The food concept is old world Mediterranean using local Miami ingredients. Small plates. Lot's of them. Strong drink program. And conversation. We've tagged it "New Miami."

One because what even is "New American" when no one's even sure what American is anymore. And two because restaurant Lippi on Brickell (downtown Miami. so. good.) just opened two months ago and is doing a pretty similar food concept.  And well three because if my boss and I agree on one thing, it's our disgust with America's not-talked-about habit of Made in China and we're doing everything we can to resist. See most recent GG restaurant: 22 in Durham.

So that's what I've been working on. SEE I SWEAR I'VE BEEN WORKING. Developing an identity for this restaurant while staying true to the Vintro Hotels brand. Coc It's everything from interior design to actual menu content. See where a studio art major and a 2-semester portfolio gets you? That's that no student left behind act. Or something. Working hard to make sure it's a restaurant that serves both the local community and the tourist.  I classify myself as both.

I'm proud of it because it's an honest concept. The owner is pure, genuine fun and I think his hotel is going to reflect that.

Another Miami trip that I don't get to see my grandparents or uncle / unamused

Another post because according to Taylor Swift in her interview in the InStyle I picked up for $10 ok $4.99 she says when love happens, you're happy and happiness leads to contentment which means less searching.

I don't want to lose the search. 

Coffee table for 1 please

1 Italian leather scented candle 

1 South African bottle of wine

1 Targét wine glass 

One very American girl living her own very American dream 

2-year-olds in restaurants

This precious little baby girl in her high chair, while the waiter is going over the specials to her table she yells MAC AND CHEESE

There's a girl who knows what she wants.

Miami girl

Sitting at The News wearing a zip up hoodie in 80 degree heat because still cold from NY in November and no idea what to wear to NC and confused what weather is anymore. 

Waiting for my ride to the airport and just ate scrambled eggs. They're actually cold and kind of over-cooked but they just taste good when the beach is blowing on your face.

I did wear the same thing here two nights in a row but I'm writing it all down here because it's the last time I'm going to beat myself up about it. I mean in all honesty, I did have to bring 4 jackets in my carry-on to NYC because.. fall chic. But I mean really, could I not grab a nice dress from the hanger, roll it up small and tuck it in?? All of a sudden it's 8:30 pm and it's let's all meet down here in 30 minutes and I'm supposed to go get ready for dinner but WAIT fur vests and combat boots don't really happen in Miami in November and I have ONE TJ  Maxx tank top wrinkled at the bottom of my suitcase. So I.. creatively.. layered it with a white undershirt and a $10 cotton maxi skirt. And black suede ankle boots and I'm thinking actually maybe this is pretty cute. But day two of yep this is what you're wearing again I'm convincing myself that 5 star restaurants in South Beach welcome all walks of life even careless 20-something's who don't know how to pack. 

If they weren't all dimly lit and hid half your body in banquettes and I wasn't with all older men who don't (I don't think) care, I'd be turning myself in to the police. But the second night I'm in my head coming up with excuses ready in defense of what I'm pretending I don't know is a hopeless case. "Well packing for NY and Miami in one trip is hard you know!" And "I'M HERE FOR MY BRAINS SO STOP JUDGING ME" and "It's the new trend this season, recycling outfits TRUST ME I'M COOL." Face burning as I come down the elevator, sure I'm going to be fired the second they see me.

No one noticed. 

If screwing up the NYC subway which is IN ENGLISH and forgetting to book transportation everywhere I go cant tell you enough about my inability to plan ahead, I give up. Next time I'm bringing my mother. 

The day I forget to dress up until almost midnight

Tonight I'm going as a monster from Where the Wild Things Are. E is going as the kid with the crown. Because he's my king and I'm his wild thing. (cringe bc we're the cutest).  Except when we went out in our costumes last week everyone just thought it was his birthday and I was a snow princess dressing up for some reason a week early. (It was a friend's Halloween/birthday party that we took too seriously because no one else dressed up) So for tonight, I got horns. And monster fangs. I can't imagine how I'm going to drink out of something with fangs in my mouth, so I'm definitely looking forward to being as awkward as possible with saliva strings in hand while I socialize. Oh this? Goes in my mouth see?! *slurred speech* Mo-sta, geh ih?

Happy Halloween!

"If you don't build your dreams, someone will hire you to help build theirs"

Between designing menus and drawing on chalkboards and interior shopping for 3 days straight in High Point (INCLUDING A SATURDAY), I've had hardly any time to write about myself.  Which basically hurts, because how rude for work to take up so much time I can't even blog???  But it's also annoying, all jokes aside, because to others it seems like I'm putting myself first, when to me, it seems like I'm putting work first. But in a way, isn't that like putting myself first? Because I love it, because it makes me happy, because it makes me proud? Then why doesn't it feel like it? 

I'm making everyone I don't care about happy. 

At my best, I have time to write, eat, paint my nails, catch up on friends (the ones I still have) and take showers. Lately it's all I can do to wear my hair down. This is not good. But while it's not good, it's ok because what's life if it's not this constant struggle of finding a balance? I'm trying.  So it's not bad. It's just time's up for now. Time's up for putting work first, for now. You've proven yourself.  You're doing a good job. Now keep giving it your all without giving it your everything.

me walking to work,
just got new shoes.

^  what I actually look like

Engineering

I love how you showed me that if I moved my nightlight to the top outlet my charger could fit in the bottom outlet

 

morning observations

my kitchen looks like this:

tortillas i think are stale
grapefruit juice
eggs from one of the restaurant's kitchen
flat ginger ale
chips and salsa (given)
instant grits

life is good?

And Mrs. Senatori

People I admire lately

Chrissy Teigen
Catherine Giudici
Lauren Paul

the way i see it.

you live.

you work. [so hard.]
you laugh. [so loud.]
you dance [around the kitchen to electronic jazz.]
you kiss. [until your lips are chapped.]
you eat. [endlessly.]
you stress. [enough already.]
you cry. [sometimes.]
you fight. [until you don't know what you're talking about.]
you drink. [in good company.]
you play. [like a little girl with your paints in the kitchen.]
you lose. [bad.]
you yell. [just to lose your voice.]
you scream. [raspier.]
you love. [everything, every day.]

you die.


you live.
you die.

i want my in-between to be good.

Power

is being told you are not loved,
and not being destroyed by it.

I didn't dress up for work today

and I feel under-dressed.  Awkward if I go home and change and come back. Dear me, remember this for tomorrow.



I only had 1 cup of coffee this morning so can I have another already?  I made the boy a smoothie this morning before work and that was before the coffee. Think of how much I've gotten done since then! Wait actually a lot. Caffeine I love you like no other.

Have I told you about Local 22 yet? It's the new kitchen/bar my company is opening up.  It's next to one of our other restaurants, Parizade  It's like Parizade's cool 22-year-old daughter.  The kitchen will feature gourmet, local ingredients on small plates and the bar will feature.. wine? Lots of wine. And hand-crafted cocktails- which I've had the really hard job of testing for you- and beer! of course. Website-in-progress, anyone? Also follow our instagram account @local22kitchenandbar and our twitter @local_22 duh. Ok, sorry to get promotional on ya.

Thank you girl who lived in my apartment before me for the fall '13 Madewell catalog, I needed a reason to be happy about the changing weather.  Getting my down comforter dry-cleaned also helped. Hello, fall.

We didn't come for money

In restaurant world weekend begins on Sunday night therefore POP BOTTLES AND TURN THE LANA HOUSE UP 

Fairy ghosts are real

I have a fairy. The boy is convinced its a ghost and excuse me if i sound crazy but she's anything but haunting. So far. It makes sense though, living in an abandoned tobacco warehouse from the 1800s. My fairy is making it clear she was here first. Turning on my bathroom light in the middle of the night. Should I be freaked out? Probably. We're cool for now. 

I think it's really fall this time. You know when the sun is still hot but the air is cool? I'm laying at the pool. And as much fun as I've had at all the Cary pools, a real-people pool in West Village is way freakin cooler. This blog post has already been interrupted to socialize and there's another girl named Shannon so I'm gonna put this away now to go do more of that. 

What is time when time is dedicated to work? Work is life and life is work and it's probably good that way because if there's anything worse than a poor girl it's a poor lazy girl. So here I go on hour 25 of Wednesday or Thursday or is it Friday already? to dine with work for the second evening in a row, which includes one of my boss' guests who is the smartest most beautiful woman I've ever met. Maybe it's work but I don't care because the people I meet in this industry are beyond gods and goddesses. Especially this couple. 

And the food isn't so bad either. 

Anything can happen

It's the morning after my work's glamorous annual "Greek Night" and I'm glamorously on my couch eating Greek yogurt and watching music videos- that is before I glamorously get to work on my laptop. Maybe you're wondering about my new job. Maybe you're not, but I feel like telling you anyways. Not because I want to rub my dream job in your face or because I'm okay with living at home while I find a new place in Raleigh's hippie girlfriend named Durham. But because dreams are precious and fragile and chasing them is so fun, that it's all I can do not to run up to the rooftop and shout about it. And hope the same happens for you.

It started with a silk jumpsuit. If you think your wardrobe can't land you a great gig, you're expectations of the business world aren't shallow enough.  Throw in a savvy business man and the words "you need me on your team" and if you're dreamer enough to chase it, pounce and kill, you can consider yourself hired.

I guess what I'm trying to say is no one offered me this position. No one came to my door one morning and said welcome to your new job! I saw the opportunity like a ripe, juicy orange and wanted it. It was impossible for me to walk away from so I made myself impossible to turn down.  In order to be different, you must be irreplaceable. Chanel said. And I agree.  Designers are a dime a dozen. I know people with portfolios to die for.  But passion. That can't be matched.  And if you believe in something, you're already half way there. Got that one from a Chobani yogurt lid.

After completing 2 branding projects and a design project for the new boss, one of the general managers came to me and said, "I've been working for [boss] for over 25 years.  He's a hard man to please and he said you've turned around [these projects] exactly how he wanted them, and fast. My compliments Ms. Smith."

Yea, I'm awkward that I memorized that because it's the nicest thing anyone professional has ever said to me. And where else to indulge in re-reading it over and over again besides the blog?  Not getting ahead of myself by any means, which is by far my worst fear, but it was a rewarding way to start this new position as creative director for a lifestyle design and concept development group. (official description, bet you didn't know sound and letter groupings mattered in the success of a name! shh, branding secrets!)

So cheers, or should we say YAMAS! to those times when things kind of really do work out.

And to doing good work, and fast.

put a logo on it so you know it's real

Tired but not too tired to type

Zip up hoodie, underwear, stayed up til 7 am last ..night? and working from home on a Saturday, go.

Don't let me forget to say that yesterday I got my own office space with palm leaves and big windows and WAIT FOR IT A MAC!!!! As if the original Picasso drawings hung on the walls could rival anything... this is what art geek feels like. 

And I do have a brunch date tomorrow with a new man who is very handsome and very sweet and very gay. And also very 30. Gay bar is just another way to say new friends. Sorry Drake. 

Feng shui: the Chinese art or practice of creating harmonious surroundings using the laws of both heaven and Earth, that enhance the balance of yin and yang, as in arranging furniture or determining the siting of a house, to help one improve life by receiving positive qi.

Went to get the green tea out of the cupboard and a cockroach escaped underneath and I pretended like it didn't happen. Now for some reason my tea is cockroach flavored.

I'm researching Feng shui and wearing the best pants I've ever owned that my -original E- brought back from Thailand.

My mom was trying to explain Feng shui and used our house as a non-example. Our house doesn't have Feng shui because "the way the stairs lead straight to the front door make it so that your life can walk out on you." Well damn. 

there are good writing days and bad writing days and the kind of writing days you just don't publish

I don't know how to start so I'll kick this off with a little personal music inspo as of late. This girl is love.



and now I know how to say it.

Did you ever walk through the woods as a kid? Trekking your way through the trees to the fort your little brothers and you built for eating Eggo waffles you stole from the kitchen? Or kicking your way through leaves down to the half-dried up creek where you could still see your house but your best friends and you reigned over a whole city of frogs and river mermaids?

Those woods feel like my world right now.

Big. Infinitely big. Not so scary in the parts where I stomped out paths. But unknown in the parts I haven't. Knowing the mysterious field at the top of the clearing where the farmer will come out and kill you was there. Daring each other to run up there anyways.  Approaching a muddy spot too wide to leap over but I do it anyway and land one foot in the sinking sand.  A place to escape but also a place to find danger.  A place for meeting and laughing but also a place to find yourself left and alone.

I'm trying to stay on the path I already stomped out. Near the creek where I can still see my house. But now I'm reigning by myself and the frogs ribbet too loud and the mermaids hide in the algae.  If I leap and land in the mud will the sinking sand suck me in?

That farmer isn't real. But why aren't we laughing?

Tea is for Toxins

Rid yourself. 

Laugh til you're happy

It's fun

When your new friends come over for an afternoon of messy painting in your leftover college living room and making icy mojitos in the hazy heat of mid-July.

It's fun

When your best girlfriends get together on a Sunday evening to dress up in maxi fabrics and talk the night away over the city under lightning skies. 

It's fun

When your boy gets off work and comes straight over with puppy in tow to out-talk the stars until you fall asleep on his white cotton stomach. 

It's fun 

When you have no idea where your life is going or how you're going to survive on these no-experience paychecks, but for some reason no Thought Catalog article, no late night texts with best friends, no long hot showers with expensive designer shampoo you cant afford but the bottles would look so pretty in your bathroom can figure out, you decide you like.

Whether it be for my understanding mother, my unconditionally loving dad or my loyal little brothers, somehow I'm making it work. And for some reason, it's fun. 

Legs up, hair up

Recycling stale American flag-shaped pretzels as ice cream topping and doodling on my knee in blue pen in true preparation for Mistresses in 11 minutes.  Obsessed with the gorgeous white dress the Dez is wearing on the Bachelorette and pretending I'm wearing it instead of this purple cotton sheath. As if my hair isn't matted into dreadlocks right now from a day running around in the sun like a muddy dog. Work tomorrow for a delayed Monday on a Tuesday like I have anything to complain about at all. And as for commercials........... I'll be polishing my nails apartment search for a new downtown spot because OMG LIFE JUST KEEPS HAPPENING

"You should be kissed, and often. And by someone who knows how."

He makes me laugh harder. Smile happier. Hold closer. Love bigger. Hug warmer. Be better. Live lighter. He's like no one I've ever met and he's become my whole heart.

Saturdays by Summer

Lounging on the couch at C's watching Mistresses and drinking ice water out of oversized coffee mugs.

Monday morning no longer exists as far as we're concerned.

Oh and here's our new business idea because along with music videographers and wine tasters, we're also entrepreneurs.  We're so recent-graduate.

9-5 update

Life's been good. Mornings start early with mama's ice tea and a bagel and a peach and a handful of blueberries (I like breakfast) and the highway to work is sunny and fast. 95.3 FM, you are a breath of fresh air. The days are busy, but rewarding, and never the same. The only constants are the barbie-shoe blisters that I'm learning to endure as a result of wearing all the cute shoes from 9-5 every day. Evenings I get to spend doing pretty much whatever I want, which basically has been any excuse to be barefoot with my hair up. See: ice cream, gelato, frozen yogurt, etc. (depends on the day.) I still have my place in Chapel Hill, which no one really lives in anymore, except for the rare nights that feel like the perfect kind to dress up like hipsters. TRIVIA. My best friend is home. The other I've seemed to have lost somewhere along the way. One little brother's in Singapore and the other keeps me laughing from the second I walk in the door after work to the time we both pass out on the living room floor watching Game of Thrones, usually around midnight. E is in Europe for the month but I still get to see his puppy face every day on my home screen wallpaper (I'M SMILING RIGHT NOW hahahah ahhhh) and when he gets wifi, the whole world gets put on hold for a bit.      

I'm going to get on with my Friday so I can get down with it tonight! At the Superman movie with my brown shorty and his recent boy interest. But I've been told I'm not third wheeling because we're both blonde and will look hot on either side of him. BOYS! 

A prayer

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
Forever in the next.

Amen.

Most likely to go wherever the wind takes her

I don't understand the present right now. I like it. But I don't understand it. WHAT IS THE MEANING OF LIFE. WHAT AM I DOING. WHAT AM I GOING TO DO. That's vague. It's unsettling. Basically I can't handle the anticipation of right now I'm just another college senior enduring the month of April. What do I do about it? Lock myself inside hours of music and just do one thing at a time.  Sound and patience. Two things I do understand.  They don't give me answers, but they must be good for something because I'm still here. Still working for it. My senior superlative was "most likely to go wherever the wind takes her." So yea, that.  

baby girls

And her mother said to her, "Pumpkin, you can't keep your dolls in the dryer or you'll have no clean clothes to wear. We can't have you running around naked." 

To which the little girl replied, "But how else can I keep them clean and warm?"

-work by Elise Goldstein 

We brought the boy's dog to my photo exhibition and when this little girl saw her, she was completely enchanted. I mean, can't stop laughing, hugging, tickling, shrieking, rolling around on the floor in joy. Elated with this dog. 

My mom caught this picture on her phone.

Notes from me to you and me

1. Can't WAIT to hear about boy
2. This is important
3. Strongly considering graduating and starting a full-time dog-sitting business at the Bungalow.  I miss last summer's various dog-sitting weekends and don't see why not making it my life's endeavor. Trial months post-graduation to see if it can cover rent/water, then I'm going all out promo, website, logo, t shirts.
4. Reverting back to IDGAF stress-management mentality, doing what I have to do, when I have to do it, no whining, huffing, puffing necessary, solo dance-party breaks optional, interval treats of frozen girl scout cookies encouraged.
5. If I want to continue wearing intentionally ripped jeans on chilly spring days, I probably will, going along with above note about stress-management. Being artistic means you can be cliche without being artistic. Whatever that means.
6. "Last day of this" and "last Thursday of classes on a Saturday in May night out" reminder emails are just society's way of breaking me down and kicking me around under the Old Well.  I'll ignore them and go out whenever I feel like it.
7. Especially thankful for the back roads these days, when there's lots to think about and not a lot of time to think unless dark, winding roads happen to lead me from one home to the other.

And you know I wouldn't leave you without something to put on in your empty apartment on a Sunday evening:

The Perfect Beach Tanning Mix from ALittLeLady23 on 8tracks Radio.

Stupid picture but stooooopid mixes. Anytime, dancing queen.

Empress of a glass of water

Writing Trying to write what I hope to be the last paper I'll ever have to write for a grade.  So instead of focusing on how dreadful this is I'm focusing on the iciness of my water. How the condensation drips down the side of the glass so slowly and how when I put the glass up to my lips the cold inside rushes onto my face and how if it were up to me I'd freeze time in one of these cold little ice cubes.  

Proof

that hard work is so worth it.

and drinking out of pineapples will be a thing again soon.

Damsel in Distress

I am so busy. Like so busy. Really confused how 5 classes worth of finals/projects are going to get done. I'm stressing about stressing, acting like I'm the only person in the history of busy lives to ever be so stressed.  I worry about not getting enough sleep, not having time to eat lunch, what's going to happen next.  I hate wearing socks with my Chucks but then my feet sweat and smell bad. I spend all my cash on vending machine food that I hate. I live for the conversations with the boy that make me laugh out loud. Do big fonts make things more manageable? I stay up all night playing out all the possible outcomes in my head and snap at my mother on the phone and start crying when I watch Disney commercials in class.  I'm a tangled, bed-headed mess of anxiety but I want you to understand me when I say that I am also happy. I think that I would rather be stressed like this than to not have anything to care about at all. 

“Dear God," she prayed, "let me be something every minute of every hour of my life. Let me be gay; let me be sad. Let me be cold; let me be warm. Let me be hungry...have too much to eat. Let me be ragged or well dressed. Let me be sincere - be deceitful. Let me be truthful; let me be a liar. Let me be honorable and let me sin. Only let me be something every blessed minute. And when I sleep, let me dream all the time so that not one little piece of living is ever lost.” 

― Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

happy

can you tell? 

Starting to feel the spring in my step

Did I tell you about spring break? It was incredible. Bahamas, Jamaica, Grand Cayman and Mexico. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I'm the most spoiled girl in America. And now the Caribbean. I got to reunite with my beloved summer wardrobe and my soul was whole again with all the tanks and short things I could pack in my suitcase. I pretty much only drank Coronas with limes in them until I discovered the kick of a Dos Equis in Cozumel. I also swam in the prettiest water the heavens ever made. I just can't believe how something can be so blue and so clear at the same time. And all the fish in that water! It's majestic, these fish have the brightest purples and sunniest yellows and deepest blacks and all with the most intricate patterns. It was unreal. I met some cool people from Manhattan. I also hid away in my book A Tree Grows In Brooklyn until I finished it. I did, and it is the best book I've ever read. I think I'm going to read it again even it takes another year for me to do it.


The week came with two nights on each end at my grandparents' and I still think that's real paradise.
I got to hug lots of family and we laughed a lot, of course.  I'll leave out the parts where I missed my flight home but even though it was an accident, I'm here to tell you getting left in Miami with your grandparents is the happiest accident there ever was. After mean-tweeting at American Airlines, the g and g picked me back up and it felt more like a treat than customer service trauma. I collapsed under the noon sun in their backyard and napped away my upset and then we got egg salad sandwiches at a Kosher cafe and ate them outside until it was time to catch the next flight home. I know everyone says this about their grandparents but I mean it when I say mine are the best.

"I have seen the future and it is good. We will wipe away the religions of old and start anew."

Joseph Stella

To quote Dona Budd's The Language of Art Knowledge: 

Dada was born out of negative reaction to the horrors of World War I. This international movement was begun by a group of artist and poets associated with the Cabaret Voltaire in Zurich.

Dada rejected reason and logic, prizing nonsense, irrationality and intuition. 

The origin of the name Dada is unclear; some believe that it is a nonsensical word. 

Others maintain that it originates from the Romanian artists Tristan Tzara and Marcel Janco's frequent use of the words da, da, meaning yes, yes in the Romanian language. 

Another theory says that the name "Dada" came during a meeting of the group when a paper knife stuck into a French-German dictionary happened to point to 'dada', a French word for 'hobbyhorse'.

Yesterday was my birthday

and this is Kim Carnes.

Studio illustrations used as SACI advertisements

MK

 "...I'll never be able to make it straight. From a distance it might look straight, but when you get close up, you can always see the line waver. And I think that's where the beauty is."

"I believe there need to be women visual in our every day landscape, working hard and doing their own thing, whether you like it or not, whether it's acceptable or not...I especially hope to inspire young women because often I feel like so much emphasis is put on how beautiful you are, and how thin you are, and not a lot of emphasis is put on what you can do and how smart you are. I'd like to change that, change the emphasis of what's important when looking at a woman." 

Though diagnosed with breast cancer, Kilgallen opted to forgo chemotherapy so that she might carry a pregnancy to term. She died in 2001, at age 33, three weeks after the birth of Asha, her daughter with her husband and collaborator Barry McGee.

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Using studio life drawings as Starbucks advertisements

YOU GUYS

MATT COSTA IS COMING TO CHAPEL HILL
APRIL 20TH
$FIFTEEN DOLLARS
CATS CRADLE
CONSIDER MY TICKET BOUGHT WITHIN 5 MINUTES OF SEEING THE FLYER ON FRANKLIN
THIS IS SO AWESOME

Instrumental Landscapes from xerk on 8tracks Radio.

For studying, freaking out, complaining, or falling asleep on dusty 5-inch textbooks from 1953 for term research papers to. Whichever your little oh-my-god-1-month-til-graduation heart desires~

Hi SCAD

Below you will find a draft of my personal intent statement for applying to grad school. Please email me if you have any constructive criticism. Yes, I'm using my blog as a HELP ME FORUM. Thanks in advance lovas. 

I started my academic career at UNC-Chapel Hill with the liberating thrill of being "undecided." I spent my first two years studying every field the school offered, from documentary theater to chemistry, anthropology to computer science, even summer courses in philosophy and African culture.  I was already a junior when I fell in love with the 3-hour studio courses in the art department.  My hands were always black with charcoal, every pair of jeans I owned stained with India ink, but finally, this was a major worth declaring.  I loved having the MFA grad students as teachers and getting to see what projects they were working on outside of class. My professors were professional artists touring the country as visiting artists. I was ecstatic to become a part of this greater art world.

I’d stop into local art galleries around campus to see what local artists were up to and submitted t-shirt designs for my sorority events. I frequented the contemporary art museums in my area and artist lectures to stay current with other artists’ ideas and ongoing projects. I loved tying it all back to advertising and how people never stop being attracted to good art. I’d take all the “starving artist” warnings to come, as long as I got to keep making stuff people wanted to look at.

With 2 years left to graduate, I would be cutting it close but I planned my last semesters so that it could happen.  I had accumulated a bunch of journalism courses as the advertising classes kept me coming back for more. More strategy. More creative thinking. More cool fonts.  I was sitting in class "JOMC 272" one day listening to a guest speaker Bob Ranew recount a day in the life of a creative director and remember thinking "Yes. This is what I want to do." I figured I could start by building my studio art portfolio and securing the minor in advertising.

I was accepted to study at Studio Art Centers International for a semester in Florence, Italy to gain an international perspective on art and advertising. I came back and took on freelance illustration work to develop a professional name. I continued to maintain a blog where I keep track of my inspirations which are often music and words.  In that space I experiment with different moods and aesthetics and even practice blog-post layouts to learn what people want to look at and what it is that makes them want to look at it.  

I'm a graduating senior from Carolina, realizing now that if I knew I wanted a life in art direction all along, SCAD would have been ideal for undergrad.  But four short years ago I was seduced by the freedom of liberal arts and the pep of college football, and here I am graduating from Carolina working towards that life anyway.  As I’ve spent the past 2 years building a fine arts portfolio and not an advertising portfolio, I decided to take some selected studio work (several life drawings and illustration pieces) and put an advertising spin on them to develop different campaigns.

At SCAD, I intend to master the Photoshop skills I'm still developing, evolve my fine arts training as a foundation to my continued education in advertising, and build a professional advertising portfolio to prepare for a career in art direction. I'm excited to meet the other players in the industry, learn their ideas and team up to produce cohesive campaigns to market to real companies.  I want to merge my fine arts expertise with my professional goals in advertising: travel to take photos, use my love of music and videography to construct multimedia concepts, incorporate my passion for writing and text into my creative work. I want to collaborate with production houses to make ads that say something.  Through SCAD, I intend to achieve these goals and actualize a professional life in art direction.  

All we've got are skies

This head that I hold is a LITTLE TIRED

I don't want to read anymore/ I'm scared for my exams.
I don't want to wake up early anymore/ I don't like the dark circles around my eyes.
I don't want to catch the bus anymore/ but Next Bus is the most convenient app, like ever.
I don't like drinking water after I brush my teeth.  
I don't like the way the fan in my bathroom turns on automatically when you turn on the light. There's no way to stop it because they're connected and when I need the light I have to have the loud fan on too, by default and I feel helpless.

I watched a squirrel eat an acorn today and it was honestly so cute. I really haven't stopped thinking about it.

Also ran out of strawberry crystal light packets today so really not sure how tomorrow's going to happen.

BUT IT WILL SO STOP RUNNING FROM IT

after studying for 10 minutes

Ok! Ready for spring break!

breathe

Friend

Wake up, the sun says.

I'm trying to warm you. 

It's going to be okay, the sky says,

I've stormed, too. 

Come this way, the road says, 

I know where you're trying to go and I'll help you get there. 

Be well, I say,
forgive all that's gone wrong because you still shine bright to me.

Need sleep

Hi I'm stressed. I don't have time to blog. But I say that and then I'm sitting at brunch until 4 pm on a Sunday wondering where all my time went. So much to do. To think about. To worry about thinking about. I'm in denial. More like fight or flight response. Doing a bang-up job fleeing. Now it's time to fight. Deadlines? Make them. Work? Master it. Free time? Control it. Spring break is two short weeks away and you deserve this. So work hard, remember to sleep and for goodness sake stop talking to yourself on your blog. Or don't. Whichever gets you moving like the queen of your life you are.

minute enthusiasms

Stacy's gingerbread pita chips from Christmas taste better mid-February. More crunch.

My advertising textbook's definition of social media just gave me the invaluable perspective that it works. So I think I'm ready for this exam.

1 banana, 3-4-8 scoops of chocolate ice cream, ice, milk in a blender for an after-school life escape.

Ellie Goulding turned all the way up is choice therapy for any mind gone mad.

Lent

No social media. You have things to do. Like make DIY bracelets. 

Sometimes

Sometimes, not being chosen over other people to hang out is ok.
Just like going for the last four and finishing off a whole row of girl scout cookies in one sitting is.
Just like cleaning the entire apartment by yourself again since really you're the only one who actually lives here anymore is.
Just like deciding not to be lonely and working on your grad school application instead is.

Sometimes it's just not your day and you feel like being dramatic and that's ok too.

yep

Maravillosa

Campaigns 2013

So there's a designer. And then there's a video. And yea I think that's how love works.

DKNY


Target

I'm happy because I'm wearing denim on denim on denim even though I'm not supposed to but I like breaking the rules. Also because my coffee has cocoa an brown sugar in it and well that just tastes good. It could also be that it's Thursday and I'm sleep deprived but still love drunk from Tuesday and overly excited for this weekend. I have bed head at work and my foot is still sore but hey, I've got cocoa and brown sugar in my coffee so bring it

Wednesday

I put more than enough ketchup on my plate just so I'd get to eat more tater tots. And then I ran out of ketchup but still had 3 more tater tots. So I squirt more ketchup.  And the cycle continued until I was like ok 42 tater tots is enough stop now and I just had to suck it up and eat the last 3 dry tater tots without ketchup and they tasted like burnt crust.
MY LIFE IS SO HARD BUT SO TASTY

Happy happenings

If you happen to love music:



And if you happen to be interested in how my photography class is going/how my roommate is doing:

And if you happen to crave summer just as much as I do:


Daydreamers bracelet, $30, Kristin Cavallari for GLAMboutique

Cheese and Pasta

I destroyed my left foot this weekend tripping over a small stair. Like, perpendicularly jammed it into the step right in the part I had surgery on and face-planted on the ground. It hurt so bad I can't even walk normal and thought wearing uggs today would be comfortable and protective, but I just ended up tripping over my bear paw feet more than usual.  In other news I put lotion on my face after I got out of the shower and maybe I didn't dry my face of all the way but it's running into my eyes, stinging like lotion should when it gets in your eyes, and making me squint fiercely at the computer screen. 

This song would come on in Conad (the grocery store in Florence) last semester and I am feeling extra nostalgic about last semester today. The walks home from class, in particular. I would be so hungry and know I didn't have any food at the apartment so I'd stop in just for stuff to make dinner that night. Sometimes I'd get a muffin at the bakery on the way in because I'd be too hungry to wait til I got home to eat. There were 'albicoca" muffins which were like buttery vanilla with a little mango filling and white chocolate shavings on top. And there was also chocolate. I got the albicoca more times than I'd get the chocolate, but both were delicious.

Inside would be crowded and chaotic and foreign and scary and I couldn't use my vic card and I never, ever thought I'd miss it like I do. And I mean Harris Teeter is nice and has clean floors, packed full with all the good brands and I can actually see what kind of cheese I am buying like Sargento or the colby-monterey jack kind instead of just picking one that seemed somewhat provolone-like. But I miss when I had to pick a random seran-wrapped block of cheese from the pile of assorted blocks of cheeses and it ended up being the best cheese I ever had. It sliced nicely and tasted not too sharp, not too mild. And all my roommates would agree about how good it was. But when we wanted to go get more of it, we couldn't remember what the make-shift label had said, much less be able to pick it out again. So that would be the first and only time I'd ever have that cheese again. And we'd say stuff like "remember that cheese you got that one time that was so good!!" and next time anyone went grocery shopping, try to pick out the same kind of cheese. I'd pick one up and hold it in my hand like "hm, was this it? I don't know! What if it's not! I hope it is!" And it usually wasn't.  But then that time I'd pick out a different brand of pasta, and it'd be this thick, homemade kind that filled me up with one bowl. And the next day I'd be so excited for dinner to go home and eat more of this good kind of pasta. So it didn't matter that I didn't get the good kind of cheese that time because the kind of pasta I happened to get was so good I didn't care about what kind of cheese it was.

I'm still squinting from this god forsaken lotion in my eye. Gotta go wash this out.

This weekend oops

I was home alone and iced in.

There were multiple sittings of eating tortilla chips out of the bag and salsa while lounging on my couch. Yum  

I also successfully flooded my bathroom every time I showered and I'm still not sure what my shower curtain has against me.

A little self-conscious about whether or not my neighbors were able to hear all the questionable music I found to blast through the place. See: Timeflies goes Disney and every 2011 remix of Pumped Up Kicks. 

Oh and the 5 gallons of Northland cranberry juice I bought because they were buy 2 get 3 free. Harris Teeter does this thing to me where I decide 5 is an appropriate number of bottles of cranberry juice to buy. Crushed bottle #1 within 8 hours. 

The way the boy says "thank you" 

Myspace.com has become a longstanding tab on my browser but i swear it's the only way to listen to The Tallest Man on Earth repetitively and uninterrupted this side the Mississippi.  (You see talking Southern is my coping mechanism for the -86 degree weather going on outside. That and making smoothies inside and cranking the heat up so I can wear tank tops) 

Came to an understanding with myself that walking home from the studio today counts an overall workout for the entire weekend. I was wearing sneakers so it counts.  

Ohmygod I can't get the way he looked in his gray pants last night out of my head. 

Or the warm, fluffy biscuits we had for breakfast that he called "little clouds." AW  

Earlier I realized the unattractive smear of gesso on the leggings I'm wearing, but not sure exactly which day of the weekend that happened. Soooo I'm taking it as some kind of sign to go ahead with the lululemon shopping cart I started this weekend.......? WOULDN'T YOU 

Help I'm wearing his thermal as if I think I'm some precious girlfriend or something but the sleeves are extra long and it smells like legit magic and I actually don't plan on ever taking it off. WHY IS IT SO DELICIOUS  

Just. This is all.

http://www.thetallestmanonearth.com/

couldn't be more obsessed

Cool videos and hot tea

Made it another week without blogging but at least I'm consistent! Here we are Monday again, and all I can think about is how thankful I am right now. That's so cheesy and I know it, but after this weekend, I'm on such a high I can't help but share. So I'll make it short, in case you really are going to read this, then that way you can still catch up on all the good inauguration tweets, in case you were accidentally watching the Bachelor instead. 

Thank you life for grandparents and the sunny afternoons with them that relieve all my stress from a rapidly beginning semester while tricking me into thinking they don't live 3 whole states away, at the bottom of the 3rd one. 

And for the hot tea made by the roommate I can never take life seriously with.

And lastly for the book I never find time to read, but waits around so patiently for nights like this when I do. 

Since this is like thanksgiving, can we get a feast? Maybe I can interest you in last night's box of leftover nachos and philly cheesesteak still sitting on the floor next to my bed? Jokes aside (I know no one would really be interested in eating that) I am forming a particularly adorable habit of eating out of take-out boxes in my bed.  Funny thing is, so far it's all been brought to me by people who actually did the getting dressed and going out to eat part. Good thing I don't have a TV in here yet or else I am certain we'd have ten times the fun. 

Goodnight blog, and thank you for not thinking I am a man, even though I'm not too convincing sometimes.  That's what all the LOVE PINK is for.

Venus did blow my mind and it was everything I wanted to find

Now that I'm back in the atmosphere (America at least) I've got all these things to tell you about!

Like winter break, which was amazing, and wasn't supposed to be a break from blogging but when you get a new iPad from your grandparents with your name engraved on the back, you really, realllyyyy don't want to break out the old Lenovo like, ever again. And then I remembered about the Blogger app and now don't have any excuse at all.

BUT, I didn't forget my Blogger password and now that I'm back from that soul vacation, all you really missed were Harris Teeter days and Red Box nights and my beautiful mother who likes to listen to country with the windows down (or heated seats) and my cuddly little brothers who make me laugh, literally all the time, and my best Cary friends that you wouldn't get all of our inside jokes with anyways. Did I mention my dad who will do anything to make me happy, including but not limited to walking into Urban Outfitters and waiting for me at the cash registers? Well there you have it folks, spoiled girl blog moment of 20...13! But it was Christmas and I did spend the entire day prior to that running around the triangle with him looking for the perfect thermos for my mom.

And as good as home is and always will be, I couldn't be happier to be back at school, in the best of all those best places in the world, Chapel Hill.

So here I am, I've traced my way through the constellation, and this is my reality. Which is not that I am partying in Florence or that there are any more drops of Jupiter in my hair. But that I'm in our tiny little flat we call ~The Bungalow~ sitting in my bed eating chocolate ice cream out of a wine glass, realizing I missed The Bachelor earlier, still needing to shower, take some antibiotics still left from a nasty sinus infection and finish some illustration work.  I do have class tomorrow and I do recognize the lack of sleep I'll be getting this semester, but I couldn't imagine no love, pride, or deep fried chicken for that matter. So yes, I am fully aware of the glamour of my life right now. And there's none. But I'll tell you what, I love it.

And I'll tell you what else.

I did, I fell head right over heels for a shooting star, and I missed him, oh how I missed him while I was looking for myself out there.

^I could have done something romantic and cute to this picture in Photoshop or something, but then you wouldn't be able to tell how it's actually in a grocery store at 2 a.m. while getting stuff to make sandwiches. And that we're on a motorized scooter for handicapped shoppers because his ankle was sprained... 

We're no plain old Janes. 

(Had to)