There are few things that I love more than hearing musicians talking about music. Two nights ago, while I was “doing homework,” I found the perfect outlet. Noah and the Whale, in case you were painfully unaware,is a fantastic band. CHARTattack did a short interview … Continue reading Where have all the good vlogs gone?
Twitter as a source: new-age or lazy?
I’m a journalism student. I am (essentially) required to own all Apple products. I spend most of my free time cultivating my online presence (read: on Facebook). I literally get grades for tweeting and blogging.
But are tweets an acceptable source of perspective?
I’d like to think so.
I read a blog post by Christine Hauser on the NYT Lede Blog about a French soldier’s questionable clothing choice. The post used quotes from involved parties, but also included screenshots of tweets people had posted regarding their opinions. Screenshots like this have been showing up on many news blogs recently.
Some might think that perusing Twitter for sources is an ultimate testament to new media-obsessed journalists, but I think not. If people have an opinion that is thoughtful and interesting, why not include it? The Internet, for all of its vast cyberspace, is shrinking every day. I followed a link from a tweet from the Lede Blog’s Twitter to the story about the French soldier. I then popped around the site afterwards, checking on other interesting stories.
Example number two of shrinking-Internet-syndrome: A few months ago, I learned of the wonderfully artful existence of an artist named Lisa Congdon. I saw a piece of hers on Tumblr, so I Googled her, followed her on Twitter, tweeted at her (and received a reply!), followed her on Instagram and stalked her website for blog posts and new art. One little spark can create a wave of pulling the corners of the Internet in on yourself like a cuddly cyber-blanket of instant connections.
Granted, I am talking about tweets in a blog post. Do I think that tweets will make their way into hard news stories? That remains to be seen.
In the mean time, keep on microblogging.
New obsession alert!
Chia seeds, y’all. Y’ALL. What took me so long to try these little superfoods?
Chia seeds are tiny little seeds (groundbreaking writing here, I know) that come from the Salvia hispanica plant. The seeds are rich in protein, omega-3s and fiber – i.e. they’re good for you.
Most people put chia seeds in gree smoothies (which I am doing tomorrow for breakfast). Today, I had juice instead (spinach, apple, lemon, carrot), paired with apples and peanut butter. I dipped peanut butter-covered apple slices in chia seeds and nearly fell over. It was super good! The seeds are mostly tasteless, but the texture is super great, like sprinkles on ice cream or poppy seeds in muffins.
What is your favorite way to eat chia seeds?
A Good Tuesday
Today consisted of consuming a LOT of health food, buying new jeans and freezing my butt off (why is it nearly freezing in Austin?). Mostly importantly, however, today I bought a journal.
I know what you’re thinking:
“Don’t you have tons of journals lying around?”
“When was the last time you actually wrote?”
“I thought you were broke…..”
All of those are valid points.
I need to get jazzed about writing again. It’s all blocked inside me and I just need to, in the words of Walter Wellesley Smith, open a vein.
Besides, LOOK AT IT.
Besides, LOOK AT IT.
Does anyone know any good sites for writing prompts? I’m going to make writing hard so that the good stuff comes easily again. One can only freewrite for so long…
An ode to green smoothies.
They’re crazy healthy, delicious and I can’t get enough of them. (That’s a lie – I very happily had pizza for dinner last night whoooooops).
But in all seriousness, I think that everyone could benefit from trying a green smoothie. The taste is a lot less, er, “healthy” than green juice, but with most of the same nutritional benefits. In case you were wondering what the benefits are: making vitamins like vitamin K super easy to absorb and digest, clean eating, and a bunch of other things that this person can explain to you (because I don’t want a novel-length post…)
I’m going to assume that most of you haven’t tried one. You can’t taste the spinach – I PROMISE. Let’s go over two of my favorite recipes, hmmm? Don’t worry too much about exact amounts. I believe in your ability to eyeball.
Sunshine smoothie (an A+ way to start the day)
- half an apple
- handful or two of baby spinach
- orange juice
- banana (frozen, if you can manage it)
- almond/soy/skim milk
- strawberries (again, frozen is fine)
- handful of uncooked oats (yes, as in oatmeal)
Lunch smoothie (a little more heft)
- spinach (because duh)
- almond/soy/skim milk (“or,” not “and”)
- a 1/4 cup-ish yogurt (I like to use Activia)
- scoop of protein powder
- kale (the greatest superfood of all superfoods, okay)
- banana (again, frozen is best)
- a little honey
The great thing about green smoothies is that you can put pretty much anything in them. Try adding raspberries, mango, blueberries, raw coconut flakes, chia seeds, hemp milk, orange slices, ginger, lime, etc. Think of food that would go well together on a spinach salad and then dump it into the blender and hit “Liquify.”
Happy blending!
PSA
Normal blogging will resume after my week of rest following finals. WordPress, I promise I haven’t forgotten you!
Loafers and coffee.
Today I interviewed a retired research professor who helped to identify a new species of aphid, which was named after our campus. That’s not the exciting part.
We were wearing the same shoes. Brown leather loafers with little tassles. It was awesome.
He offered me a cup of coffee that I drank black as we chatted about discovering new species. His office was filled with paper-clipped articles, yellowing field guides and samples of insects. He talked about Berkeley, looking in the right places and the blackboard jungle.
That’s the thing about journalism and reporting: sometimes oyu just get to connect with people. And then you go through the rest of your day knowing that someone has connected with you. You swap stories and talk plainly. You wear matching shoes and drink black coffee.
It’s wonderful.
Feel ALL the feels.
Two weeks ago, I stumbled across a wonderful writing piece titled “I Will Always Care Too Much” by Chelsea Fagan. (Go read it. Now.) It is, quite obviously, about feeling what is considered “too much” about people. There is a paragraph in it, however, that jumped out at me and latched onto my chest. I’ve been wearing it around ever since.
No one wants to be the person who is made fun of for caring too much about something, who treats in earnest a situation that everyone else considers absurd. Even in personal relationships, feeling too heavily invested while simultaneously understanding that the other person couldn’t be more detached is one of the most profound feelings of embarrassment we can experience. Because it isn’t simply the embarrassment of making a mistake or a poor choice, it’s a shame over the kind of human being you are and how you see the world around you. To be shamed for your sincerity is to be reminded that you are dependent on something which is not dependent on you — that you are, once again, vulnerable.
I’ve been mulling this over for the past two weeks, thinking about how much I relate to it. I like everything a lot. It’s become part of my personality (see my post about inspirational quotes for an idea to how that came about). The last sentence is the real kicker, though. To feel dependent on a song you can’t stop listening to, a line of poetry you can’t get out of your head or even, God forbid, another human — that’s a terrifying prospect.
Why, though? Why is it so scary for us? We are social herd animals who are practically programmed to want to be around others. Why is it so scary to need people?
Along the same vein, why do people make fun of others for feeling deeply? I’ve always been one to fall hard and fast. Feelings are almost always immediate for me, and tend to simmer for a while somewhere in my writing (which is probably not healthy. Note to self: work on that). But I can’t help how I am. I fall in love with boys who couldn’t care less about me and I cry over writing that is written by authors I will never be able to thank — that sort of thing. It’s a big part of me.
This post is just a bunch of unanswered questions. Does anyone have an opinion? Is anyone the opposite — the person who doesn’t feel enough?
“This train is bound for glory.”
I watched Big Easy Express tonight. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, go watch the trailer. It’s Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeroes, Mumford & Sons and Old Crow Medicine Show on a train. Playing concerts. And hanging out. And playing music. And drinking. And doing wonderful, wonderful things.
It reminded me (as if I had forgotten) exactly why I love music. Those jam sessions, people soaking in music with their eyes closed, train yards filled with the sounds of guitars and accordions. Granted, the last one was something I didn’t even know I wanted.
It’s a wonderful movie. Let’s put it this way: it’s full of insanely talented people, colorful personalities, goose-bump-filled performances and lots of hippies.
I talked a lot too much on the way home, rehashing camp memories from three years ago. Words flying out of my mouth, hands whirring about, eyes widening. My chest hurts a little bit when I think about camp — two weeks at a creative writing workshop, nestled into Lewis & Clark College campus in Portland, Oregon. Perfection, to say the absolute least.
I encourage every lover of music (especially folk-y stuff) to watch this movie. I was singing, beaming, laughing and “mmmm”-ing the entire time. It’s time well spent.
(photo not mine: found here)
The Road to Happy
I always joke that my backup job when I grow up is to be an inspirational speaker.
Fun fact: not totally joking.
I’ll tell you a secret — in high school, I was not like this. I was not a cheery little ray of sunshine all the time. I was run-down and overwhelmed and stretched entirely too thin to worry about anyone but me. I found more solace in being alone. I didn’t like this feeling at all, and I didn’t think I was doing anything to make people remember me.
At some point between graduating high school and starting college, in those three months of hiking a lot and kinda-but-not-really looking for a job, I discovered a love for quotes. Emerson, Mary Oliver, more Emerson. Bits of prose and poetry about living life to its fullest and finding love and finding yourself.
I now write down these kind of quotes as I find them and pin them onto my desk bulletin board or put them into picture frames in my living room.
Because everyone needs a little pick-me-up every now and again, right?
It’s these quotes — telling me to go hike or to be kind or to take risks — that keep me humming. Is any of this making sense? My brain and my heart feel better when there are pretty words telling me like it is.
I’m going to end this rambling post here. (But comment with your favorite quote from a author or poet. Sharing is caring!)
"Be like Aslan," she wrote. 