What the Doctor Ordered...

Allow for me to apologize again for my almost complete lack of posting during the summer months.  Again, most of it can be attributed to the crappy wifi connection at camp.  The rest, unfortunately, must be attributed to my laziness and preoccupation with other things.

I will give you a quick list of highlights from my summer at Buck's Rock:

• I made lots of art.
• I participated in an 8 mi. road race.
• I got really drunk and cut my toe open at '80's prom (no campers allowed, don't worry.)
• I performed with my co-counsellor and my camper at a chamber music recital.
• I finally finished the book I'd been working on for 6 mos.
• I started writing a series of short stories.
• I got to reconnect with lots of good people and meet lots of new ones!

This list merely touches on the events that made this summer an unforgettable one.  At this point, I have to give a shout out to all of the people that helped make it so enjoyable.

However, after spending the vast majority of my spring surrounded by my lovely Asheville friends, followed by a 2.5 week road trip with my friend Cathryn, followed by two months surrounded by campers and co-workers, two of whom came home with me for a week after camp, after which I spent a week back in Asheville to celebrate Miguel's and my respective birthdays (the return of Sunday Funday!), I finally came home to some much needed R&R and peace and quiet.

One of my main objectives over the last few days has been to find a job somewhere in the Upper Valley, in the hopes of saving some money before the imminent "rest of my life" begins.

That being said, I am actually a big fan of unemployment.

Sure, if I went unemployed for too long, I would absolutely go insane, but, for now, as the title of my post suggests, it is "...just what the doctor ordered."

I have found in the last few days that not having a set schedule allows for one to really and truly focus on themselves and the way that they want to live their life.

As for me, true to character, I've been going to bed early and waking up early (with plenty of time to enjoy my day).  I have been doing lots of walking and running in addition to the usual yoga that I practice.  I have been cooking lots of yummy and healthy, home-cooked meals and, subsequently, eating those meals.  I've been spending long overdue time with my dog and my parents. I've started watching Arrested Development (late to the game, I know, but goddamn, that is a funny fuckin' show) and started a new book, Ken Kesey's Sometimes a Great Notion (so far, highly recommended).

I think the thing that I have noticed most in my (hopefully) brief stint at unemployment, is how much having that extra time allows you to appreciate things.

For years, I have claimed that my attention span does not allow for me to start a new television series, that I can't invest myself in it enough.  The same goes for reading, while I've always known that I enjoy reading, I find that my mind tends to drift to all of the other things that I could (and probably should) be doing instead.  However, in the past few days I have done both of these things, and I've had the time to actually enjoy them.  Perhaps there's an argument for intellectual stimulation somewhere in there?

Even while practising yoga, easily one of my favorite activities, I often find my mind wandering to the other things going on in my life, kind of defeating the purpose of the very important "clear your mind" aspect of the practice.  However, while practising in my front yard yesterday, I found that I was, in fact, able to clear my mind.

Blah, blah, blah, cheesy, I know.

Now, instead of giving you more arguments for unemployment, I am going to go make pesto with my Mom and prepare for a job interview (hypocrite, much?)

But, that whole unemployment thing.... If you get a chance, give it a shot.

Sweet Treats.

As many of you know. I am residing, for the summer, in New Milford, Connecticut, working as a guidance counsellor for a group of adolescent girls at Buck's Rock Performing and Creative Arts Camp.

Considering its rather remote location, small population, and lack of tourism industry, down town New Milford actually has a lot to offer a group of camp counsellors on any given hour or day off.

Some of the hot spots include Primos (a Mexican deli/convenient store, great for hangovers), O'Connors (a local watering hole), Bank Street Coffee (currently using their wifi), and Tasty Wave (a frozen yoghurt parlour highly frequented by my friends and I.)

However, the bulk of this post is going to be focused on The Sweet Spot, located on Railroad Street in down town New Milford.


                  

The Sweet Spot is small bakery and cafe that offers a wide variety of sweet treats.  From cupcakes, to cookies, to ice cream, The Sweet Spot has it all.  And if you're in desperate need of a pick-me-up but not in the mood for something sweet, they offer coffee and espresso beverages as well.  As if they needed to improve their situation, they have "coffee cubes" which, in my personal opinion, are a revelation.  They are exactly what they sound like: frozen cubes of coffee.  Don't like when ice cubes melt and dilute your chilly beverage? No worries, because, when coffee cubes melt, it just means more coffee, and who can really complain about that?

The Sweet Spot also offers the legendary "Scoop Cake," essentially a cupcake with a filling of peanut butter, chocolate, caramel, or whatever other saucy ice cream condiment you can imagine and topped with a scoop of ice cream of your choice.  I've never had one, but I can only imagine the wonder that is the Scoop Cake.

But anyone who knows me, knows where this post is headed, so I may as well stop beating around the bush. I love coffee, but lots of places have good coffee.  Ice cream doesn't do much for me, personally.  Cookies are great, so are cupcakes and brownies, but they're pretty widespread as far as baked confections go.

The real reason to go to The Sweet Spot? The peanut butter bars.

                       

(Disclaimer: although I currently sit just minutes away from The Sweet Spot, at Bank Street Coffee House, I did steal these images from Google.)

Peanut butter bars are exactly what they sound (and look) like.  3/4 peanut butter, topped with 1/4 of chocolate. Delicious granule-y texture.  Better when chilled (as they are served.) They are incredibly rich, so go in with an appetite (and a sweet tooth.)  If you're not in the mood for the entire bar, they also offer $0.35 peanut butter balls, the smaller and cheaper "equivalent." I use quotes because, while satisfying, the peanut butter : chocolate ratio of the peanut butter balls versus bars is just not the same. In my personal opinion, just say "fuck it" and go for the full experience.

I have converted several of my co-counsellors to "peanut butter bar believers" this summer and I hope to spread the love and knowledge via this post.

Other than delicious baked goods, my summer has been amazing.  A lot of personal growth as well as a general cultivation of my creativity and happy reunion with wonderful friends.  Not sure what my plans for next summer are but it's hard to imagine not coming back to the beautiful place that Buck's Rock has become for me. 

That being said, if The Sweet Spot ever stops making peanut butter bars, it will definitely carry some weight in my deciding whether or not to return to New Milford.

For My Dad.

"Fatherhood is great because you can ruin someone from scratch."

~Jon Stewart

Thank you for doing a great job ruining me!

Love you.

There Are Places I Remember..

Two and a half years ago I embarked on one of the most amazingly life-changing journeys that I will, most-likely, ever experience:

I got on a plane in familiar old Boston and got off in a tropical, seaside city in southern Spain (whoa, unintentional alliteration).

As it was two and a half years ago, I don't remember the exact feeling of utter terror as I got off of the plane, stepping, for the first time, onto the Spanish ground that I would proceed to tread for the next five months, but, I know that I was, in fact, utterly terrified.

However, as I got into the groove of things, I found my routine, my lifestyle, and most importantly, a strong group of friends.

Over the course of the five months we spent in Almería, we found our way together.  We ate, we drank, we swam, we travelled, we studied, we struggled, but we survived.  And I think we would all agree in saying that a lot of our ultimate survival can be attributed to one another. 

Then, all of a sudden, much sooner than any of us had expected, the semester came to a crashing conclusion.  We all said our goodbyes, promising to see each other soon but (and I hope I'm not the only asshole that had this concern) I think we all wondered how much truth there was to this promise.

But, I can now officially say that I have, in three cases, followed through.

In the last eight months, I have visited and been visited by the one and only Bobby Holliman.

The incredible Cathryn Gillen sacrificed time and money to fly from England and road trip up the East Coast with me (learning along the way the vital correlation between caffeine and Katie's good moods).

And, last but definitely not least, I lived with the unbelievably amazing Patrick Ingram (another one to add to the list of life-changing experiences!)

So I guess the valuable and ever-cheesy lesson to be learned here is to keep the people that have changed your life in your life.

                                                                                                  

	¡Viva Almería 2k12!

Delay the Hangover.

In my 22 years, I have found that it is a fairly common school of thought among people over the age of 8 that Sunday is not the most enjoyable day of the week. 

For students, it means the last day to finish their allotted (and often excessive) weekend homework.

For adults, it is their last day of “freedom” before heading back to work.

For parents, it means back to school, back to making lunches, back to soccer games and play dates, etc.

For me and my fellow “20-somethings,” it means one last day to rest before heading back to the monotony of a 9-5 job that we hate or, even worse, the monotony of “the unknown.” It also means one last hangover before the new week starts.

Or does it…

The revelation can be dated back a few months to a Sunday morning after a particularly wild Saturday night.

Upon waking up, my friends Miguel and Aaron and I decided that our only hope for survival was to “delay the hangover.”

So, after a Bloody Mary with breakfast, we went and purchased a few bottles of champagne, some orange juice, and planted ourselves on the couch to watch some Desperate Housewives.  The result:

Sunday Funday was born.

Here are a few of the things you should know about Sunday Funday:

                                                         

                                         It is racially diverse.

There is always a surplus of men.

~*Sometimes we do casual tarot readings*~

 








We like glasses ($5 margaritas in pint glasses: not pictured.)

Sometimes we go to Mardi Gras parades.  

Sunday Funday is often blurry. 

  

<<We nap at our own expense.

There are very few acceptable reasons to cancel Sunday Funday.

And Monday will suck.

From mid-winter, indoor, day drinking, to fried fish sandwiches, to sunbathing and grilling out.  Mimosas and Man-mosas. Hot dogs and Takis. New friend groups, Simper Freckers, and $5 margaritas. Sunday Funday is more than just another day of the week, it is not just a tradition: 

It is a way of life.

Keep delaying the hangover.

I love you all!

Back in the game.

Many of you probably know that in high school I was a bit of an actress.

A passion that ultimately led me to pursue my potentially useless degree in Theatre Studies (still holding out hope, cross your fingers for me, folks.)

However, as I've expressed to some of you, I feel that my scholastic path led me a bit off track and I forgot why it was that I had originally fallen in love with theatre.  

But man! It is so hard to get your foot back in the door. 

So, since I've been in Asheville, I've auditioned for a couple community productions (to no avail) and I've been thinking of the different ways that I could reincorporate acting/performing into my life.

And then I got the opportunity to work on a short film that a friend was producing/directing/editing/etc.

Sure, it's not Broadway or anything, but it's definitely a step in the right direction.

So a big shout out to Jameson Hartrum for giving me a chance!

For those of you that are interested in seeing my first foray into acting in about 5 years, here is the link:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HUuGREiBVlY 

(I apologize, I'm a little rusty.)

And speaking of things I haven't done in 5 years, I just ran my first 5k since senior year of high school, so, fuck yeah!

~ Love you all ~

22 Lessons I've learned at 22:

1. Post-grad sucks.

2. Everyone looks cuter in the winter.

3. You will never have enough money.

4. Try not to let #3 ever stop you from doing something you're passionate about.

5. Move somewhere just for the hell of it.

6. Don't settle.

7. Flush out the toxins. Literally and figuratively.

8. Read your horoscope.

9. Sunday-Funday is the best day of the week.

10. Don't worry about your dancing. There are people worse than you, I promise.

11. Yoga will always make you feel better.

12. Anyone can get a job (whether they deserve it or not.)

13. That being said, co-workers can make all the difference.

14. Existential crises are real.

15. Budweiser is not, in fact, the king of beers. Neither is PBR, Rolling Rock, Miller High Life, or Nattie Light.

16.  Step out of your comfort zone.

17. You can always do better.

18. Don't knock it 'till you try it.

19. Treat yourself.

20. Tequila is dangerous. Period.

21. Remember to look in the mirror.

22. Do what makes you happy.

Stay tuned for the "23" edition.  Let's see how many of these stay constant.