I have been doing a lot of work with audiocandy+radio.

So much that pa(i)gewithwords has kind of fallen on the wayside.

But I haven't forgotten about you all.

I was browsing my friends' tweets this morning on twitter and I came across this excellent youtube of why social media matters. It is a great explanation why word of mouth teams are necessary, and why I want to be part of one.



If you want to check out more about audiocandy+radio, visit the blog at audiocandyradio.blogspot.com. The new blog & server launch should happen before the end of September so keep your eyes peeled for that.

Re-tweet if you love me:

RT @audiocandyradio love #music? want to be a part of an #indie #radio project? become an audiocandy+ dj! more info on the blog: http://bit.ly/K3NGJ please RT!

so clever

spare 5 minutes?

I just searched "241543903" in google and there were 7,080 found images.

p.s. I promise I'll actually write a blog soon. I just keep coming across so many cool videos & photos!

where it all began

So excited. August 28.

new dance epidemic

When Tinkerbell fell weak in Mary Martin's Peter Pan, I would have to clap to bring her back to life.

The YES dance is the next sensation equipped with such revitalizing powers.

See for yourself.

MJ in my life

I always used look through the stacks of cds my parents had by the stereo in the living room.

Plopped down, kneeling in front of the hundreds of cases, I'd take out a handful and marvel at the cover artwork. I specifically always being intrigued by one particular album, Dangerous.
It was one of those covers where one simple glance did not cut it. There was so much to the picture, so many pieces that drew you in closer for extended investigation of detail and portrait.

His music was just as enticing.

I had plenty of cassettes with "Rockin Robin" and "ABC" as a kid, which made for the perfect youngster sing-a-long dance party. As a tween, Michael's music sneaked his way into the movies I watched (Free Willy's "Will You Be There") and soft rock radio waves I listened to while in the car with my parents ("Black or White").



As a teenager, it was just common place to know all about MJ, from his early hits with as lead of the Jackson 5 to the "Thriller" dance. If you did not know how to moonwalk, you envied anyone would could, and you wish you could learn. It was not as easy as Michael made it seem.

And Michael still has a presence in my present life today. There is always a new song out that uses a MJ sample or draws upon inspiration from MJ's dancing or music videos. I think I am safe to say that a Michael Jackson song played at every single dance, party and bar that I go to.

Today the Michael Jackson memorial was held at the Staples Center. I was able to watch most of it, breaking away from the TV for about 20 minutes to run errands for my parents. Luckily, radio stations were broadcasting a live feed too.

I thought the whole thing was well done, which great speeches and performances that highlighted the greatness of Michael Jackson, his contribution to the world and unparalleled talent.

I thought Brooke Shield and Reverend Al Sharpton's speeches really showcased that, as much as Michael may have been misrepresented in the media, he was a loving, caring and extremely compassionate musical entertainer at his core.

"I want his children to know there was nothing strange about your daddy, it was strange what your daddy had to deal with," Sharpton said.

And so true. After Jackson's death, it came to light that all the accusations against Jackson of abuse were in fact false. It is heartbreaking to think that Michael's reputation was so wrongfully tainted. I have to admit that my image of Jackson definitely waivered in the past decade, with all of his odd behavior plastered across the media.

I found it sad that even today I saw plenty of people still bashing Michael on twitter. If you do not like him or do not think he is as influential as others believe he was, that is fine. I guess I am just blown that there are still so many haters out there despite how obvious it is that MJ had a huge and positive impact on the world.

But thanks to the BET awards and today's memorial, I once again remember the Michael Jackson that made me smile, made us all smile. The MJ that had the power to bring together everyone, regardless of race, religion or difference. And above all, the MJ that was a true gift to this world, creating music that brightens our day within the first few notes and his first few lyrics.





Rest in peace, Michael. You will be missed.

On the other hand

Now, everything I love, in one video.

Soccer, German, ginger, humor.

I'm pretty sure the Devil had a hand in this

All that I despise in life, in one video:

See more funny videos and TBT Videos at Today's Big Thing.

I don't know why, but..

My stride was careful as I walked down Broadway with Chelsea.

"Chels, have I ever told you my absurd fear that I'm going to randomly fall in such an awkward way that my bones will just snap?"

It's true. I usually walk with caution anytime I'm in a pair of heels, but lately I have this luring fear that I'm going to fall in such a way that would cause my ankle/knee/whole leg to snap in half.

I have never seen this actually happen and I have never broken a bone in my body (knock on wood), so I am not sure what has generated this gruesome phobia.

And apparently, I am not alone.

"Well, I don't know why and don't judge me but I have this terrifying fear that someone is going to throw acid in my face," Chelsea said.

My god. I thought my bone-breaking fear was bad, but Chelsea's living nightmare was much more delibitating, and hopefully unlikely to happen.

Phobias form based on three factors: genetics, culture and experience, according to About.com. Genetics can be hit or miss, sometimes affecting twins but not always affecting family members in the same bloodline.

I think Chelsea and I have phobias that have been shaped by culture. I have seen people break bones on TV and Chelsea said she read about acid attacks in a magazine. I wonder what ignited within us to bring these random stories to be legitimate fears that rest in our subconscious.

What are your odd phobias?

Sizzle or fizzle?

I randomly have the urge to do a hot and not list. This is so SocrGirl circa 1999.

Hot
Bourbon Street in NYC
This is my second time visiting Chelsea and she took me to this fantastic bar/restaurant last night on the upper westside called Bourbon Street (Amsterdam & 97th). The decor is fantastic, with chandeliers and deep colors to make you feel like you're in New Orleans. Tuesdays are Chubby Tuesdays (like "Fat Tuesday" I presume) and there was a live band that played some upbeat jazz (Herbie Hancock's "Watermelon Man") but with some cajun flavor. $5 Hurricanes. Fleet week. It was a good night.

Billy Reid
Southern charm meets city fashion via Billy Reid. His line is primarily for men, but there is a small collection of women's digs (mostly menswear style, but with softer fabrics). He has a shop in NoHo (54 Bond Street) decked out to make you feel like you're an urban cowboy, think saloon & Western meets kitch & trendy youth.

Not
Celebrifeed
A lot of people do not get why Twitter is so popular or useful. I think it's a great tool for sharing interesting content, real-time coverage and short glimpses into places/events. But there are a lot of people who clog the tweetline with nonsense. I guess MSN's Wonderwall wanted to make an example by collecting all the useless and pretentious twitter users out there and streaming their tweets in one page. And so Celebrifeed was created; a one-stop shop to read about all the posh parties you'll never get to go to (and they're AWESOME. her tweets says so), how fantastic he or she looked on their guest appearance and random and out of context @replies to random fans/people/stalkers. HOORAY!

I'm trying to think of another not but things are great right now and I can't think of anything else that's crucially negative. Mean people suck, but that's pretty standard and not worth ranting about. Maybe I wish there were more hours in the day? What do you think is "not" right now?

hello sweet summer

My fello Marylander Leland blogged about her summer plans, so I thought I'd do somewhat of the same since I have reached some what of a writer's block in blog topics.

• Start audiocandy+. I've already got the blog registered (http://audiocandyradio.blogspot.com), so it's only a matter of figuring out NiceCast. Anyone know how to set it up? I think I'm going to buy the full version soon.
• Grizzly Bear in Philly! I've never been to Philly or seen Grizzly Bear, both things I've always wanted to do. Plus, Tuan is going/hosting! It should be a fun little short road trip. I was pure chance that I was scheduled off on the needed days!
  ps babies dancing to "two weeks" is the cutest thing ever.
  that's how you know it's truly good music.
  
• Bonnaroooooo! Second time going, first as a volunteer. Heading down with Kitcat, Michael B. & tuaniffer! Ready for Tennessee sunshine, live music & meeting cool people.
• Visiting Chelsea in New York City. I'm trying for at least once a month. I'd love to do it more, while she's there for the summer. Bolt bus is so easy/fast/cheap. Plus I'd love to go dancing with Mariel, see Julio & everyone else in the Tri-State area.
• Wildwood Beach ultimate tournment. I'm hoping Katie and Chip can be on our team. It's a co-ed 4vs4 ultimate frisbee tournmanet in late July, where you can either play 3 men & 1 girl or 2 men & 2 girls. I think we'll go with the former, just because I think me and Katie will be the only girls on our team. But let me know if anyone is interested! I think some doomers and Maryland friends are going to be on the team!

So those are some plans. I'll be sure to blog about each of them as they come up. I'd love take more road trips, see cool things, so comment any suggestions!

Hey World

I am ashamed at how much I have neglected to update pa(i)gewithwords. My deepest apologizes to those who frequent my blog.

The last few weeks have been a whirlwind: losing my internet service thanks to the boys who lived in the apartment below Katie and me, getting an iPhone for graduation (but at the price of being without cellphone service for about three days when goodbyes were being exchanged), graduating Syracuse University, packing up my entire apartment/life while still dedicating ample time to hanging out with my best friends, making the trek back to Maryland, unpacking, job interviewing, soaking up all the memories and making plans for new ones in the near future (NYC, Brendan's birthday, Bonnaroo).

I am still in the process of unpacking all of my things, but I oddly do not feel overwhelmed.

Maybe a rarity among the class of 2009, I have been glowing with optimism ever since graduation.

I feel like my life is really starting, and all the things that I have so longed to do, I can. I am so fortunate to have a well-paying job at Nordstrom, with benefits, that affords me the opportunity to shop around for a job until I find the perfect one to begin my career track. I also have the chance to take hobbies to the next level and see if I can cultivate them into something.

I thought for so long that I would be freaking out right now after graduation because I would not have a path to follow, like I had been doing for the past 16 years. There has always an assumed progression of life, from elementary school to middle school to high school to college. Sure, some was left to chance--what I would participate in after-school, who I'd meet in classes, what I'd choose to focus on both in and out of the classroom-- but there was always some form of certainty of what I would be doing and where I would be.

Now, there is nothing but the open road. Maybe not even a road; that is too direct and formulated. More like the open sea, an open pasture.

I finally have that piece of paper--a college degree--that can prove, and legitimize, to the world what I have known for so long: I am ready to do something of value, and I can.

I have a lot of projects I want to work on, a lot of growing to do, a lot of passion to invest.

But, I am young. I have ideas. I want to meet people. I want to live life to the fullest.

And I am planning to do just that.

Auf Wiedersehen!

It is only courteous to say goodbye at the end of a conversation, whether you are bidding a friend farewell at a party or ending an impromptu run-in a friendly stranger.

But other than that, there is no real reason for them.

Call me romantic or naïve, but I think that goodbyes are unnecessary on a long-term timeline and should only be reserved for when casual dialog require them.

As I near the end of college, I am flooded with people’s requests to meet to say goodbye, which will be unavoidably the most awkward encounter ever. Seniority cannot even escape this.

You would think after high school and summer internships and trips abroad, we would have some idea of how to go about a send-off. But of course, there still is no real protocol.

I have begun to avoid goodbyes. I do not want my last memory or interaction with people I like or will miss to be some weird, small-talk-fueled, short-lived meeting.

People might look forward to saying goodbye to a crush, it being one of the few acceptable (and less creepy) times to share an extended hug or sneak in a kiss on the cheek. But even in this situation, things would be better if the goodbye was all-together avoided. The absence of that person in your life would not be suddenly felt, being reminded of the impending void with each footstep taken away. Plus, the replaying memory of him or her will not be the retreating blob barely seen through your tear-filled eyes, but of happier times. Hopefully.

The funniest thing is that the most pressure to deliver a serious college good-bye comes from the people you actually hold near and dear to your heart. They are the people you will most-likely see within the year, making a long-winded, heart-stricken farewell obsolete.

Then you also have those situations when you have to give a college good-bye to someone you would not even issue a “ta-ta” to under normal circumstances. Just think of it as an official kick-off to your future without him or her.

It is not to say I, or we, should not have closure in our lives. I just prefer the open-ended kind. No dramatic "OMG. We're graduating. I LOVE YOU. I'm going to miss you sooooo much, but the off-the-cuff “see you soon.”

Because I probably will, thanks to our planning or Fate.

Drunk History

Being a political science major, I'm a little too acquainted with the Founding Fathers.

I have been lectured on the structure and functions of the Federal government. I have read about election of 1801, Continental Congress and branches of government until my eyes have burned.

I was delighted with the John Adams series from last summer, seeing the stories I had so long read and heard about come to life on-screen.

I stumbled upon this small YouTube series this evening and thought it could be enjoyed my the Adam series' fans as well as anyone looking to hear some "alternative" stories of colonial America.



There's five webisodes in all, many that feature stars from recent blockbuster comedies.

Check them all out here. They're all relatively short, and are good for a few laughs.

Oo that smell

It's that smell that escapes your room, as if you had just opened it for the first time after a long summer break. It is not a bad scent, perhaps it's the best smelling musk possible, while still being categorized as one.

Had it been the end of fall or mid-February, I might be weary that I had waited too long to clean my apartment or that the air had grown far too stale and I needed a fan.

But it's nearing the end of college. And I purposely breathe in deep.

This smell is sweet; if nostalgia was a perfume, this would be the college edition. This is the smell of moving into your freshman dorm room and all the accompanying excitement and glory of beginning a new chapter in life.

I am not sure my exact motivation for my celebration for the return of that smell. Maybe I hope that my freshman feelings of full-fledged ambition will once again flow through my veins and envelop my mood. Maybe I have been waiting since the first snow of the year for it to be warm again and spend my days comfortably outside. Maybe I know that this smell means change.

I should not be so surprised that I find myself once again greeted with this smell at the end of my time at Syracuse University.

I feel like these last few weeks are, and will be, very strange.

None of us seniors are living in the present. We are either reflecting on our past-- the last four years on the Hill-- or anticipating the future--packing and planning respectfully. Majority of our plans or meetings are made to either celebrate the achievements we have made in undergrad or to make closure to places or people that might not be here when we visit again in 10 years.

I do not think I will wake up once on the next fourteen days and live it as an ordinary one. People will ask what my plans are for post-grad, or invite me to their last party. Friends will invite me to get dinner downtown for the last time or insist we go to Chuck's because we only have so much time.

Nostalgia is defined as "a wistful or excessively sentimental yearning for return to or of some past period or irrecoverable condition," which is inherently backwards-looking. But I think it can be something relating to the present, but only within a unique, unparalleled span of time: two weeks leading up to graduation. It is now that we have that foresight to know that these moments are the ones we are going to remember vividly and wish we could go back to; nostalgia is in our presence.

So for the next 14 days, let's stop thinking about the past and stop worrying the future; let's live in the now. We are going to wish we had.

Unfathomable & unforgetable

"If you were to take 10 seconds of what I actually saw, you would not be able to sleep. You'd be scarred for life."

Brian, a SU grad student, came to answer our questions about the genocide in Rwanda. He had escaped death barely as a mixed 13-year-old in the south of Rwanda. Most of his aunts and uncles, as well as other family members, had been murdered, exterminated because of their Tutsi status.

Brian explained that Hutus profiled Tutsis as being tall with thin noses, even though there were many Tutsis, and Hutus, that challenged the mold.

"During school, we thought that if you could fit your three fingers up one nostril, you could pass, or be, Hutu. You'd see all the kids with their fingers up their noses during breaks," he laughed.

I was awe-struck by all of his experiences.

Most of all, I was most surprised by his summary of the whole Rwanda situation.

"People ask me every time what went on in Rwanda," he said. "To be honest, I still do not know. It is that complicated. It does not make sense to me."

Brian appeared to be an intelligent man. He had lived through the civil war and massacres. He had seen the bodies, the rampages, the sights no human being should ever be forced to witness.

And in the end, he still did not know why the whole thing happened.

I think that's a testament to genocide. It doesn't make sense. To think a people can wipe out a whole group of people, as if they were animals, is not a rational thought.

I asked Brian if he had seen Hotel Rwanda, which we had just watched in class, and what he thought of it. He said he saw it when he was in Georgia with his girlfriend at time, and he could not stop laughing.

"The whole theater was crying and I was just laughing," he said.

He said that it was not that it was a funny portrayal, but that it was clearly a mixture of a bunch of different narratives, plus some exaggeration to make it "Hollywood" and profitable.

The violence was on par for what it could be, he said. The producers probably only embodied about 10 percent of the reality of the situation and massacre; understandable, since not many viewers would be able to handle it or would want to, he said.

I feel like there's so many levels of understanding in anything you come across. You can read a book and gain a little more understand on a situation, maybe gaining some internal perspective or scene setting. You can watch a movie based on that book and see what you had envisioned come to life, maybe in a more realistic way or just different--for better or worse--portrayal. You can hear someone share their story, who lived through that situation portrayed in the movie and in the book, putting a face, a person, a human connection to that story.

I feel like it is so hard to truly understand, feel, the horrors Brian encountered. I know I do not want to experience them or even be involved in some kind of re-enactment scenario, but I wonder if it takes that, or some similar or equally traumatizing situation, to feel the full weight of an issue like Brian's.

Do you think common ground has to be shared for you to fully understand something? Isn't that the whole reason why experience is so much more important than education in some instances?

Thanks Brian for coming to class today.

R.I.P. for all those whom lost their lives in the Rwandan genocide.

FIfty People, One Question

I just came across this project this afternoon on ModernFeed, where I watch all my television programs online.

Benjamin Reece's idea is really charming: ask 50 random people the same question and record their answers, all on camera.

It's amazing how one question can tell so much about a person.

If one thing could happen by the end of the day, what would that be?


Fifty People, One Question: New Orleans from Fifty People, One Question on Vimeo.

My answer: to feel completely comfortable in my own skin once again.

Where would you like to wake up tomorrow morning?


Fifty People, One Question: New York from Fifty People, One Question on Vimeo.


Fifty People, One Question: Brooklyn from Fifty People, One Question on Vimeo.


Fifty People, One Question: London from Fifty People, One Question on Vimeo.

My answer: well-rested to the smell of fresh-brewed coffee in a German cottage with my family on a warm summer morning

Some of the answers really make you appreciate your life, health and love. The one girl's answer about waking up in a world where you can travel via closets and have breakfast with their owner's made me smile. The stories about colon cancer and wanting to wake up in the graveyard at his father's tombstone really tugged at my heartstrings.

How would you answer? Which answers did you enjoy the most? Comment your responses.

i'm in a funk & this is what i need to remember

"Sorry, not tonight dear. I am on deadline."

"Feels like your pilgrimage to Mecca, huh?" my dad asked.

I am not Muslim. But he was on to something.

This past weekend I went home. It was not my Spring Break, nor did I have a job interview.

I went home to take care of some long overdue work. I went home to finally go to the Newseum.

I have known since I was 13 that I wanted to be a journalist. The details were hazy, but I knew I loved to write. The Newseum opened in Rosslyn, Va. around that same time (1997) but for whatever reason I never managed to head downtown and visit it. (note: The Newseum moved to its current location on Pennsylvania Avenue a year ago.)

So my trip Sunday was a long-time coming.

I went with my parents and sister Chelsea, whom have a basic interest in news. Nothing extraordinary. They read the news, each with a varying interest and publication loyalty.

I should have known that I would be holding up the group.

I seriously felt as if I was a child in a candy store. Granted, I had learned the basic history of communication in a few of my Newhouse courses (COM107, COM505), but some of the coverage and artifacts the museum had were incredible.

One section had actual pieces of the Berlin wall. One section had the radio antennae that was on the top of the World Trade Center and was recovered from ground zero. One section had a various newspaper A1s from important world events.

I felt most inspired the the individual stories of fearless or accomplished journalists. Their documentary videos or exhibits illustrated their passion for reporting and championship of journalism--real reality checks and reminders of why I love journalism so much.

The fam and I also got to hear Newsweek editor Evan Thomas' involvement in campaign coverage, specifically his time spent on Obama. Three things I came away with? If you do not want to ask hard questions, journalism is not and will never be for you. Competence is not sexy. Reporters were not the ones with a huge crush on Obama; it was their editors.

I am going to have to go back and spend literally the entire day. I probably was able to really take in about 40% of the entire place. Luckily, I only live a hop, skip and a jump from it. I could even move in to the apartments attached to it. That might be a little too much..

Fun things I bought: a t-shirt that says, "Sorry, not tonight dear. I am on deadline." and a pen that says, "Trust me. I am a reporter."

Josh said that there will only be about 20 people who will appreciate them. And those are the handful of people I want to meet and befriend.

discovery health never fails

As I was reading the assigned pages in Mama Day for the afternoon class, I came across a passage that described the August butterflies in Willow Springs.

And I randomly thought about mermaid girl.

My mind shot back to the night before Spring Break when I was laying on Catherine's couch, with a glass of Riesling, watching the Discovery Health channel. Catherine was blow drying her hair and preparing to turn in early in anticipation of the 4 am wake-up that would awake her a mere five hours later.

I had just been flipping through the channel, perusing the variety of new shows just beginning on the hour. Then I was caught off guard: a show on a real-life mermaid girl. How could I tune away, and be stuck suffering through another bad reality show on VH1?

And so I was introduced to Shiloh, one of three survivors worldwide that live with sirenomelia--aka Mermaid syndrome . She was no different from a normal adolescent girl who absolutely loves butterflies. Well, except for the whole two-legs-together-and-no-genitalia-or-rectum.

Her story is interesting on so many levels, from the fact that she has undergone hundreds of surgeries to preserve her life to her parents' struggle to plan for her future and maintain the faith that Shiloh find a man that will love and appreciate her for the bubbly, happy-go-lucky girl that she is.



The hour-long documentary teaches viewers about sirenomelia as well as follows Shiloh and her parents through their hardships dealing with medicial complications, diet issues and learning new things (like swimming!).

I really recommend people watch the next airing(s), April 5 at 1 pm and 5 pm.

Elementary, my dear word-lover.

"We'll finagle it, Yof," I said.

"We'll bagel what," questioned Yofred.

I have used "finagle" in more than one conversation with my friend Yofred and he is always perplexed by it. I am not sure exactly where or when I added it to my vernacular, but it is there.

I tried to explain to Yofred the definition of "finagle" in the clearest way possible. I must have not done a good job; he still asks me what it means every time it slips out into a sentence.

After the third confusion-ridden, "finagle" instance, I made a mental note to at some point find out where this word came from.

This morning I was surfing online and I came across "The Word Detective." Could it be true! The perfect synthesis of my two obsessions: Nancy Drew and words? Maybe a place where I can find out more about "finagle!"

Linguist/columnist Evan Morris has been answering word questions since 1995 and conveniently has them archived on this handy website. There is no search option (downer) but there is an alphabetical list of previous columns. You can buy a paid subscription to get a bi-weekly e-mail, showcasing those weeks' columns.

"Finagle" had been addressed! Morris says:

But while the element of outright dishonesty is definitely sometimes part of “finagling,” I would suggest that the usual use of the word carries the implication of bending, perhaps twisting, but not breaking the rules. Crooked stockbrokers may “finagle” with schemes that pauperize their clients, but your average “finagler” is just looking for an angle, an insider’s discount on storm windows or use of the company truck after work. “Finagle” to me is about clever persuasion, not vulgar fraud.

So, yofred, does that make sense; he put it much better than my frazzled explanation.

I love Morris' site. He even reminds readers to "Semper Ubi Sub Ubi," which was featured in one of the Nancy Drew computer games! Coincidence ? Too weird.

Bookmark the site as a go-to reference for all your diction dilemmas, or maybe to find new words to play during bananagrams!

spring (news)break 09

I have been trying to think of an engaging way to recount my spring break experience, highlighting the points that stick out to me (and probably majority of the trip's participants) in a way that it does not read like a laundry list of inside jokes.

I figure I'll just start rambling and an adequate blog entry will develop itself. Better yet, I'll structure it kind of like a news story (but not really); bear with me.

The Basics
Who: a group of 20 Syracuse University undergrads; Catherine--one of my best girlfriends, 1 former freshman whom I had peer advised, 1 girl who I never really met before but is a good friend's best friend, a trio of frat boys, 1 awkward freshman whom wants to kill cops for fun, 4 sophomore girls, 2 ESFers, Becky--whom is roommates with another of my best girlfriends--Calyn, 1 really tall guy, 1 guy who is Greek but also looks Cuban to me, 2 juniors with an insatiable desire to rage, and 1 girl with a lot of questions.
What: a week-long call to service in Palm Beach, Florida, working on the Jupiter Gardens Habitat for Humanity site
When: for spring break, driving 25 hours down at 5 am on Saturday (staying over in Columbia, S.C.) and coming back Saturday (staying halfway in Concord, N.C.)
Where: Florida; working on 27-house build from 8 am to 3 pm Tuesday, Thursday and Friday; beaching every afternoon at various beaches (Juno, Jupiter); staying in cabins at JD State Park
Why: I have always wanted to volunteer, especially for H4H and I thought my time would be better spent giving back than just binge drinking on a tropical cruise; plus it would be so fun and I'd meet great people!

Quote: "CLOTHING OPTIONAL!"

Background: Catherine made it a point early on in the trip that "clothing optional" would be a well-established catch phrase by the end of our week. It spread (and caught on) like wildfire, thanks to our hardcore creeping. We initially took baby steps, suggesting our boys disrobe in our car and cabin, but then we took it to the house, asking a waiter at a bar if we could get naked to which "clothing optional" was then announced over the loud speaker. Success was ours.

Quote: "Does Paige like boys?"

Background: Much like Catherine, I too had my own mission to accomplish during our spring break trip; I wanted someone to at some point to secretly pull me aside and inappropriately ask my sexual orientation. Catherine and I are quite close, like most best friends, but sometimes our interactions reach a sexually-confusing level (stroking, grabbing). I wanted someone to be so baffled by our loving relationship vs my obvious sexual fetish with ginger men to approach me and ask which team did I exactly bat for; that way they could get some answers and stop wasting countless hours of sleep pondering the situation.

Quote: "You may not molest the animals."

Background: We stayed in four cabins in a state park. They weren't your typical wooden cabins; these things were nice! Air conditioned, beds, kitchen, big shower. It reminded me of a small beach house you could rent cheap. I personally loved it, with bonfires in the evening and the space to throw discs and a football. Staying in the woods does run different risks than if we were staying at a church, like some of the other trips. There were animals right outside your door! And not just little ones. I saw a raccoon, but other people saw an armadillo and even A WILD BOAR! The park pamphlet warned not to molest the animals. I'll for sure be molesting an animal if it gets anywhere near me, or attacks someone.

Quote: ::silence::

Background: There wasn't much silence through out the trip, between Scott and the sweet sound of power tools in the morning, but I unfortunately lost my voice for majority of the trip (about four days). Josh Shaw saw my tweet that had detailed how my voice was completely lost and he said it was probably for the benefit of everyone. Hardy har har. But honestly, it was frustrating! Roland, the site manager, got a kick out of the fact I could not speak. I would occasionally try and muster out a sentence, but I would just end up sounding like a dying man. I finally got it back (kind of) on the ride home.

Quote: "LET'S GO"

Background: Oh Scott, I will never forget your rallying call. Never did I know "LET'S GO" could (1.) provide intense rejuvenation of the mind, body and soul and (2.) be applicable in so many situations. Scott was a true master of the phrase and used it well, amidst cheering for our Orange in the Big East tourney and joking around/getting ready to rage.

Quote: "What did she just call me?"

Background: So, I really only knew Catherine before the trip, and she was the only one who truly knew me. So once I started referring to people as "booface" or "hunnybunny," mass confusion spread amongst the other habitaters. I distinctly remember at the baseball game we went to on Monday night, I called to Paul a few stadium seats behind me, "Thanks booface." He looks to Dimitri and says, "Wait, what did she just call me?" I then explained and he learned to accept it as an appropriate reference (as well as love it). This situation happened probably 15 times over the course of the break. I can say with confidence, I think some kids are going to keep "booface" in their vocabulary forever.

Quote: "I am going to put you in a graveyard."

Background: A rather morbid sentiment to communicate, but an actual threat to Dave's life, given by Johnathan (John, Johnny, John-o), nonetheless. Johnny brought life to our car. It might have been at a seemingly pain-strickened slow pace, but his historical references to wars and Chinese government as well as intense disdain for law enforcement officials made him a true gem. I am pretty sure he does not like me, or maybe he thinks I hate him, but Johnny, I don't. You might be a little interesting, but just know I'm just an impatient girl that appreciates a good torture technique like the best of them.

Background: I fully appreciated the entire group's love of games. Botticelli, Say Anything, Bananagrams: you name it, they wanted in. We also played the 46 things game where you choose a universal topic and everyone goes around suggesting an answer, and once 46 things have been named, you go by every couple and answers and players identify which answer trumps the other. On the way down we played "What will be the best thing we do on this trip?" [winning answer: 'blaze with dolphins'](?). On the way back, we played "What was your favorite thing about our trip?" Catherine, Scott, Dave, Hogie and Johnny made up Cabin 7, and we all agreed.

Quote: "I am going to have to pick 'cabin 7 love.'

American girl

There are a handful of "milestones" that our society suggests girls will experience during their teenage years: her first kiss, her first boyfriend, her first job, her first car.

It is through all of those events that she will ease into responsible, with her family and long-established friends there to pick her up when she makes mistakes

And she will better for it in the future, with all the lessons learn from her experiences. She will be forced to learn more about herself (and what boys to avoid), how to be more independent (and aware of the true value of money) and how she could gain parents trust (so her curfew could be a little later).

But, this time line of typical teenage lessons seems a little too good to be true.

And it is.

Some people surmise it is the result of puberty, while others believe it is because of American pop culture.

Either way, it is during a girl's teenage years, and sometimes even earlier, that she begins to question her body image.

And it is hard to blame her; magazines, television and movies all feed girls images of extremely thin models and women, labeling them as the norm and standard of beauty. A girl's perception of her body changes, focusing on areas that culture tells her defines her self and societal worth (i.e. flat stomach, busty chest).

It is the repetition of these images that begin to breakdown self-confidence. Size-2 becomes the norm, and the constant bombardment of actresses and models whom fit that mold acts as a constant reminder of how she is not that size and that she need to do something if she ever wants to be truly happy and successful, especially in love.

And for a lot of girls, size-2 is not even an option; their bodies anatomically will never fit into a pair of size-2 jeans, even if they were to starve themselves to death. Some girls find out the hard way.

It is a common misconception that skinny equals healthy. Many of the thin girls on the screen or on magazine spreads do not achieve that physique by healthy practices, but by fasting, purging and extreme diets.

That is not to say all lean girls starve themselves; some girls naturally have fast metabolisms. But the dangerous skinny ideal portrayed in entertainment (i.e. skeletal) is not attained by healthy eating habits.

I think distorted body image has just become another standard to a teenage girl's life. It is not to suggest a girl is weaker or has lower self-worth because she falls victim to it. I think body image issues are a side effect of living in our American society and being exposed to American pop culture.

Unfortunately, it takes a lot more time for girls to learn, break-away, from body image issues, if ever, compared to the lessons learned from a girl's first boy, car or job.

Maybe it just takes a little more mind over matter. And a little more help from intimate world around women.

Here's a little refresher of what real women, and men, look like:

click the picture to open the site

Of course, it's a german website.

predator percentage

"If there was no way you could ever be caught, there would be no punishment and no one would ever know, would you ever rape a woman?"

That was the last question at the end of a survey given by Malamuth and Check to college males in the early 1980s.

Forty percent said they would.

It does not end there.

The same pool of men underwent an additional test that measured their arousal during two hypothetical audio recordings-- one portraying a rape where a woman adamantly refuses the sex through out the entire act and one portraying the "rape myth," where a woman refuses sex initially and repeatedly but eventually climaxes.

The men that said they would never rape a woman under any circumstances recorded no arousal during both segments. However, the men that admitted that they might rape a woman given total immunity from all consequences reported no arousal during the rape sound byte but extreme arousal during the "rape myth."

Researchers Malamuth and Check reasoned that some men enjoy a mixture of sex and violence, especially those whom are exposed to steady amounts of pornography as well as depictions of the rape myth. To them, the rape myth equates to what may appear to be rape-- rough, aggressive sex with an unwilling participant-- but is actually just a woman whom was too embarrased to admit her desire for sex and eventually "comes clean" via an orgasm.

But the rape myth is just that: a myth. Women do not say "no" to mask their true sexual desires. They are not playing hard to get or shy. No means no. Period.

The more men are exposed to the rape myth--probably while watching porn--the more likely they are to believe that it is true. Those men might be misled to believe that constant refusal of sex is a common game played by women whom actually want to get laid.

They are then more likely to make repeated sexual advances, ignorant to a woman's constant refusal, as well as be convinced that rape might actually be pleasurable to the woman in the end; he just has to push her to that point.

So, of the forty percent who confessed they would rape a woman if given the anonymous chance, those same men registered as being more turned-on by violent sex and under the impression that the rape myth is actually true (this is shown by the difference in arousal response of the rape vs myth rape recordings).

I do not want to make generalizations about men or scare women. It was one study, which also said that sixty percent of men would not rape a woman given any circumstance. It is alarming that any percentage of men--particularly such a high percentage--confessed they would rape a woman if given immunity.

I think only way to eliminate or compress these predator inclinations is to enlighten men that the rape myth is not true. As seen with the study, those potential-rapist men were not aroused by the rape recording; it was only when they believed that women enjoyed the rape at the very end that they were aroused.

All men need to believe that when a woman says no, she really means no, regardless of the situation, whether she led you on to believe there was going to be more action or whether she did want more but then decided against it.

It is a shame that girls sometimes feel obligated to do sexual things, pressured more so by social norms than men.

Regardless of where the pressure comes from, it is the girl's responsibitiy to speak up when she does not want to do something; men cannot read minds, but they can take "no" for an answer.

at least I covered my mouth

My science professor reassured one of my classmates that the lecture was almost over, because he was caught yawning.

"I saw you too," he said, pointing out that I too had yawned.

I felt bad. It was not a boring lecture. My yawn was merely an involuntary domino effect from the other kid's yawn. It was also nearing 5 o'clock on a long day that had started at 8 that morning.

Yawns are so interesting. I thought it was always the body's way of correcting an oxygen deficiency. Apparently there are a lot of theories on why we yawn, and no correct answer.

According to HowStuffWorks.com, there are three main rationales:

1. The physiological theory: When we are in carbon-dioxide concentration environments, a yawn attempts to counter the excess of CO2 by drawing more oxygen into our lungs. If a group is sitting in the same room (same CO2 enivornment), then every member may need to correct the imbalance; this explains why yawning may appear to be contagious.

2. The evolution theory: Our primitive ancestors may have shown teeth or opened their mouths widely to a signal the time to switch activities. Modern day yawns communicate the same message--suggesting the end of a boring activity in exchange for the progression to something more fun.

3. The boredom theory: Yawning is just a tell-tale sign that you are tired and/or bored.

I think that it is probably a mix of theory one and three. I can see fatigue playing a big part, and mainly why I was yawning in class last Thursday. I do not know much about science or biology so I pretty much agree with the physiological explanation purely on the trust that professionals have some idea what they are talking about.

One thing that seems to be a universal truth about yawning is that it is involuntary. I do not know why it is considered rude to yawn; no one can help it.

Teach, it might not even be related to your lecture. I might have just had a late night, and/or long day. Do not take it personally.

Here are some fun facts about yawning:

The average yawn lasts about six seconds.

Your heart rate can rise as much as 30 percent during a yawn.

55 percent of people will yawn within five minutes of seeing someone else yawn.

Blind people yawn more after hearing an audio tape of people yawning.

Reading about yawning will make you yawn.

Olympic athletes often yawn before competition

Did you yawn while you read this post?

wordle of pa(i)gewithwords

pa(i)gewithword wordle
I guess I blog a lot about newspaper, life and multimedia. Who knew?

unfair's silver lining

Have you ever noticed that life is not perfect?

Sometimes it catches you by surprise (something not panning out quite how it was planned) or reminds you at the wrong time (anger ensues).

My mother always had a knack for giving me a little "life isn't fair" reality check as a child when I did not get my way. At the time, it was the icing on the cake, the last thing I ever wanted to hear. It was true; life is not fair, but restating the obvious was almost just like kicking me when I was down.

I've grown up considerably since then (I hope) and I oddly cherish the inconsistencies of life instead of cursing them. It's not all that cliché "I'm better because I lived through it" lesson (although sometimes there is a bit of that).

It is more that I accept life's ups and downs. Problems cycle, but I feel like they offer direction to life. They help us to realize our identities, to determine what we hold dear, find out what our weaknesses are and see our strong suits.

So, next time you look to the sky to utter (or scream) "f my life," try and take a step back. You're going to be alright. Hey, maybe even better off.

tomorrow never dies

I don't know why I get so scared about the future. Because honestly, post-graduation is the only time in my life when I will have the freedom to go to wherever I want and start living the life I have always wanted to live and finally be a part of a publication for real.

No more pseudo job titles. "I work at the Post-Standard, but I don't have a business card and I will only be here for one more month."

I will finally be in a position where I know my work has room to blossom; that I will be able to personally do follow-up stories and long-winded series and cultivate sources and really embrace my beats.

I have the power to grow as a journalist: to challenge myself to think of creative ideas and angles, to push coverage and packing to the next level, to explore the limitless opportunity of the web and to use the resources and brainpower within my publication to produce informative, innovate approaches to delivering news to people.

Scared? Why should I be? I'm ready. I've learned a lot. I have a lot to offer. I just hope employers see that in my cover letters.

insomnia, sort of

I've been sleeping horribly lately. I can't fall asleep until late and I wake up early. My eyes are so heavy with exhaustion that they actually hurt and my head screams for rest. I reasoned that if I try and identify the source of my new-found insomnia, I might be able to make some proactive life changes and get an adequate dose of slumber that is much needed.

• audiocandy
  Yofred and I scored a radio show this semester. I'm super excited for it, but I find myself too often brainstorming and looking forward to it that I'm losing sleep over it. It is one of those situations where my mind is not nearly as tired as my body and it is disregarding my plea to shut down so I can get some shut-eye.
  
• health
  I came down with the flu weeks about two weeks ago. I was held in quarintine, more or less, not leaving my bed or seeing another person for about five days. I do not have television in my apartment so my time was spent watching the last season of Survivor off of CBS.com and sleeping. I think I got used to sleeping 14+ hours a day, so now I feel sleep-deprived even if I get the normal eight hours of sleep.
  
• bedroom
  My room is still a mess from the dance party I threw last weekend. I feel like the clutter gets to me, adding stress and another thing to my overbearing to-do list. I also have sheer window curtains that probably serve no real purpose than to look pretty. The 7 o'clock sunrise is a nice way to start my (early) day; sike.
  
• crazy weekends
  Dara brought to my attention that alcohol messes up your normal body functions, like your ability to actually have a full, restfull REM cycle. It makes sense; I can sleep for 10 hours after a night of heavy drinking and still not feel great. Add the fact that I have been consistantly staying up until about 4:30 a.m. every weekend night and it only makes sense that I'm exhausted and I can't get to bed at a normal hour.

It seems like I should stop partying so hard. And maybe sleep once in a while? Wild idea, I know. Dara suggested meditating to clear my mind and allow myself to calm down and drift to sleep. Any other suggestions?

Eureka!

With the economy in shambles and the newspaper world crashing and burning just as fast, editors are searching for the golden ticket to solve all our problems.

As a budding journalist myself, I balance between feelings of excitement and despair. I'm excited for the future of journalism, seeing how the internet extends reach and leaves more room for words and creative packaging. But, I also remain realistic; no revenues means no salaries.

Josh sent me Time's How to Save Your Newspaper article and midway through reading it I had an epiphany; I think know how to solve the revenue problem.

So, it is clear that in order for the newspaper industry to, well, be profitable (i.e. make money to pay us starving writers), there has to be some way to bring in money. Advertising and subscriptions paid papers' bills in the past, but the explosion of newssites and blogs stripped print newspaper of its place of satisfying news-hunger civilians.

Can you blame people though? Free, instant news vs print that you have to pay for (even if it is less than a dollar a day)? The choice is a no-brainer.

But I think the answer lays in why readers are drawn online. I often find myself to newspaper's websites not just for the text, but for the multimedia. SoundSlides, interactive maps, tweets, comments, widgets, databases: these are all things that would not be possible to have in a print addition, yet add so much more depth and value to a piece.

The dilemna newspapers have is finding feasible ways to charge readers. The suggestion of making people pay to access sites or individual articles would not work; relevant news is blogged about and run through countless wires, many of which are free. Publications have no real leverage in holding stories from the public like they might have in the past.

But, that's not to say publications do not have anything more to offer readers; they have leverage in multimedia. The interactive content put up by the New York Times and Washington Post shows exactly how much value multimedia has when it is done well. Effective multimedia allows readers to really dive into aspects of coverage they find the most interesting as well as making it specific to their lives.

Newspapers need to maintain the basic newssites they have now, which are basically "webified" verisons of their daily print addition. The money-making would come from the option of readers to pay for access to the multimedia verison of the newspaper. Make all the interactive and multimedia elements exclusive, available to subscribers only.

It's the extra content that would set newspapers apart, driving not only the evolution of how we can use techonology to deliver news but also push the envelope on how we can do it in creative and engaging ways. Multimedia has a style about it, just like reporters have a style to their coverage or writing. Paper's multimedia work would establish names for itself, maybe incidently catering to a certain demographic or having a signature gadget that would draw subscribers.

I could see people paying a fee for access, mostly because I think I would myself. I think there are enough people out there who care about the future of newspaper that I know a solution will surface. And even if there are people losing faith and giving up hope, I'm looking forward to working for the new industry, or at least working to make that new industry.

drinking, night & morning

You've been warned about beer goggles. Suck down a few beers and suddenly Syracuse is swarming with sexy men. What is going on. Where am I. Why does the guy next to me oddly resemble James McAvoy (I wish).

It's a dangerous phenomenon that has taken innocent bar-goers as victims, and given hope to those with bad haircuts, body odor and no social skills.

But have you ever been warned about groggy weekday mornings? A weekend of partying has ruined your sleeping pattern, so you start your work week already tired, already doomed to consistent fatigue.

This morning I found myself in that exact dreaded groggy state, reading a novel for one of my various classes and listening to a smooth instrumental album off my iPod. It was actually quite enjoyable; my book was engaging, I was comfortable and I was being productive.

But it was too good to be true.

I had not gone to senior sundays at Faegan's the night before, nor had I begun my day with a Bloody Mary, but my well-being was being threatened by a beverage none-the-less (why did I have to get a small coffee, and why did I wait to get it after my class instead of before; dangerously poor choices). My coffee's caffeine had not fully kicked in yet, leaving me in a overly subdue state. I was waking up a little, but the reading was calming me--two polar powers working against each other to keep me captive in a sort of sleepy limbo.

I would occasionally look up and around Food.com, watching people walking by or sitting at tables. But in my daze, my guard was down and I was acting instinctual.

And that's when it happened.

I accidentally waved to an individual whom I completely dislike, and I am unfortunately acquainted with because of common friends. It was a natural reaction to wave to someone I know, but in this situation, I completely regretted it.

Not only did I not want to talk to this person, but because I initiated communication with my slight of hand, I was not obligated to initiate small talk and pretend to be interested in this person and their life. And I hate being fake.

So people, beware. Drinking will leave you in undesirable states, just make sure you recognize beverage choices can be dangerous no matter what time of day. Drink too much alcohol at the bar and you might mistake anything that walks for your dream boy. Get your morning coffee too late and you might wave to that kid you desperately try to avoid like the plague.

audiocandy

audiocandy has been conceived.

WERWaudiocandy.blogspot.com

check it often for all your musical needs-- news, reviews, playlists and more.

listen in thursday mornings 10 until 1 via your iTunes or right here.

set your calendars and update your bookmarks now.

Ideal/Ironic mornings

Don't you love how each night there is always the promise of a fresh, perfect tomorrow?

I wonder every night of how delightful it will be to wake up the next morning, refreshed and ready to conquer the world.

I'll wake early, settle down at the dining room table with a warm cup of tea and some work as the sun shines in my window. It's splendid, getting ahead in my classes and feeling accomplished while still comfortably wearing my pig slippers and nighttime sweats.

But, 9 a.m. always comes to early. And I sleep until noon, because I'm exhausted from staying up until 2 the night before imagining how wonderful the morning could have been.

popchampagne,barackcampaign

I've been remiss to not update my blog since my return from the inauguration, but better later than never.

It's really hard for me to conceptualize my weekend in Washington, D.C., half because it was one of the most powerful things I have ever been a part of and half because I'm not sure if I've been fully able to realize the magnitude of my experience. Like wine, I'm assuming it will only get better with age.

From what I am able to realize now, I see right now as truly the beginning of a new era. That might sound like a naive, altruistic statement at first glance, but I make it with a reservation of reality.

Barack Obama is a brilliant man, with great ideas and visions to restore America's place in the world and in our hearts, although I recognize that he is just a man, not the Messiah or immune to the corruption and pressure of politics. Obama is going to have to make hard decisions, which will most likely not be to the liking of all Americans, but I hope he is able to maintain his character and overall mission to make America the place of life, liberty and happiness once again.

But, when I say that the tide has changed for us, I do not solely credit Obama for change. I feel the real change is with the people, shown by the sincere, warm smiles exchanged by strangers in passing or felt by the American pride that hangs in the air.

On the day of Obama's inauguration, I woke up at 5 a.m., layered myself with long-sleeved shirts and thermal pants and I walked for an hour and a half in well-below-freezing temperatures to stand in a cramped crowd of people for an additional three hours. I did not even feel the cold and I did not want to find the nearest warm store for refuge. Don't read this as, "Wow, she walked a lot and had to be so uncomfortable, yet she pulled through and braved the cold just to be a part of history." It was not like that, to be honest. The excitement, the comradery of standing amongst millions of other Americans, and visitors, for the collective celebration of change was truly motivating.

Television anchors and reporters may have highlighted how cold and miserable the crowds must have been to stand in long lines or how some people, with tickets to boot, missed the ceremony all together because they were being held in an underground tunnel. I even was in one of those dreaded clusterlines at 3rd street trying to get to the National Mall.

The police did not know whether the line and security checkpoint would grant people access to the National Mall (where Josh and I wanted to go) or the parade route (which would mean standing until 2:30 in the afternoon, most likely missing the oath, etc. as well as just seeing the president drive pass; no thanks). Around 9, Josh and I decided that we were too far back in the line to even get through the checkpoint before the procession's start at 11; the worst would have been to be stuck in the middle of a random street and miss the whole thing.

So, we walked over to Clyde's at Gallery Place, saddled up to a pair of stools at the second-floor's bar and watched the whole thing on a HD flatscreen tuned to CNN, with a Bloody Mary in hand and packed house standing behind us. People were cheering and clapping; crying and praying. It was like being on the Mall, only it was warm and I had the best seat in the house.

There was a feeling of collective happiness, like "we did it; I can't believe we all actually did this."

So I think the change really is with the people, banding together to help others for the common, collective good of the country.

When I went to the free "We Are One" the Sunday before the inauguration at the Lincoln Memorial, I turned around at one point to say something to my friend Marcus Hadley during the show. When I did, I found that Marcus and his dad had both hoisted two little girls in their arms, so they could see Obama deliver his speech.

At the end of the concert, I told Marcus and his dad that it was so nice of them to have done that for those girls.

Mr. Hadley said, "They just needed to see that."

care bears and clouds

Have you ever wanted to snuggle up in a cloud like a carebear?

Pulling the fluffy, soft covers of cloud over yourself, tucking yourself in for a cosmically cozy nap.

I don't.

The visual-- the playful, warm animation-- looks so delightful, but to an unmatchable extent. I think that if I were to be giving the chance to sleep in a cloud during a dream, or in some unrealistic way within the actual drawing, I think the experience would still fall short of what my sight calculates the sensation would be.

My perception of cloud slumber is a mix of two things: the fantasy of how soft and fluffy clouds would be in a cartoon world plus a sprinkle of childhood nostalgia.

I feel like the adolescent perception, the way things are more important, more exciting, more extreme, more fantastic, cannot ever be recovered, at least fully. No one knows when it goes, or how or why, but it's clear that there comes a time when imagination weakens.

And that's why I'm confident that looking at a picture of a carebear sleeping in a cloud is more delightful than if I were given a the actual opportuntiy now to sleep in a cloud.

The picture conjures up hazy, nearly-gone feelings of imagination; the most delighful thing in the world.

the science of song

it's like a nest. each piece fits together, cradling the user.

the scraps are not felt as individual pieces. the cracks and connections are smooth and fluid.

those scraps-- drums, bass, guitar, vocals-- are felt by the listener as a living (moving, evolving) entity they comprise.

listen closer.
to find complexity.
individual movements that help to create the song.

like seeing an organism, but then looking under a microscope to find millions of individual molecules moving differently, yet contributing to a collective, cohesive overall being.

2008: the year of the BOOST, apparently

HAPPY NEW YEAR! 2009 is going to be a big year (see: Obama, graduation)!

HuffPost featured a bunch of new year blog entries, one of which was a post by Andy Borowitz that showcased his facebook statuses from 2008.

I thought it was a neat way to summarize the year. Here are a few, starting from Jan. 1, 2008.

Jan. 1: Paige is "election year! WAHOO"
A nice message among a sea of comments on hangovers and drinking regrets.

Jan. 11: Paige is "really named jonathan, or atleast that’s what she tells sketchballs at the club."
Some girls rely on their girlfriends to bail them out of awkward situations. I just introduce myself as Jonathan. Great advice for Iguana's in Baltimore; trust me.

Feb. 4: Paige is "avoid nothing, battle everyone."
Just some classic Paige Dearing trash-talk. Again from Iguana's, only this time about dance battles.

Feb 21: Paige is "BOOOOOOSTED. Usa today intern? YEAHHH."

March 5: Paige is "LIFE IS TOO GOOD: Chelsea, nate, savannah, ultimate."
Last spring was packed with fun. Chelsea, Nate and Joe visited for 'boost central.' Ultimate was going great and spring break playing ultimate all week in Savannah was going to be amazing, and was.

March 16: Paige is "boosted for springtime and ultimate outside. Now it just needs to come."
Syracuse winters are long.

April 7: Paige is "reserving a seat for katie’s spirit."
Katie was abroad and missed the annual Mirabeau dinner.

April 27: Paige is " let the seasons begin, take the big king down"
Beirut is fantastic and I couldn't stop listening to Elephant Gun.

May 5: Paige is "all I know is I can’t wait to see what becomes the summer08 dance."
We all know the summer07 dance was a smash.

May 13: Paige is "haruki murakami."
Fantastic author.

June 10: Paige is "bonnarooooooo."
Self-explanatory.

June 18: Paige is "twilight, Elliott smith."
Great combination.

July 4: Paige is "kannst du mit dein Arsch wackeln?”
German for "Can you shake your ass?"

July 23: Paige is "nancy drew: the phantom of Venice, from USA TODAY, fo freeee."
What is summer without a little Nancy Drew action?

It will be interesting to see what 2009 has in store for me. Will this winter be as long as last year? What will I be doing in the summer? What will I be doing with my life?