Battle Scars

 This pie project is a marathon. 20 is a large number. There's going to be a lot of butter in my future. And each recipe is its own tiny battle. This week was pretty much Waterloo.

As I was contemplating which recipe to knock out this week, two things stuck out to me:

1. It is too damn hot.
2. Peaches are currently at their peak.

I was afraid if I waited too long I would have a peach pie recipe to make with peaches no longer in season. So I headed to Madison's at Findlay Market, whose peach selection is practically taking up half of their tiny store. I didn't want to turn on the oven, so the obvious solution: DEEP FRY!


This recipe yields delicious results. Flaky pastry, a boozy, delectable filling; but it's not for the faint of heart. If you're a pro at handling high stress situations, juggling multiple deadlines, not collapsing under pressure, and rolling with the punches (and working with hot oil) - by all means, be my guest.You've been warned.

I got my first kitchen injury of the challenge this week - a small welt on my hand from some bouncing oil as I was transferring a cooked pie from the pot to the paper towels. As my friends and colleagues with Cincinnatians For Progress will agree - it was totally worth it.


#PROTIPS:
 * Don't be a hero with the filling. The picture to the left has too much filling, and consequently got drippy and broke the seal of the pie.
* Flour and the fridge are your friends. Adequately chill both the filling and the pastry so the pies won't leak before you fry them. Use a ton of flour on the rolling surface - both sides, and use more flour after sealing the pastry to help solidify drips.
* The NYT picture makes these guys look like empanadas, but by the end I was treating them more like dumplings. This made them easier to construct.
* Don't freak out! They're going to break, you will make a giant mess all over your kitchen. It's worth it. Keep going!

Fried Peach Pies with Bourbon and Cinnamon - adapted from this recipe

takes about 1.5 hours with proper chill time
best served hot and fresh
technically serves 10 but I made 12

Here's what you need:

(For Crust)

• 2 3/4 cup all-purpose flour
• 1 tablespoon granulated sugar
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1 cup unsalted butter (2 sticks), chilled and cubed
• 1 large egg, whisked with enough ice-cold water to make 1/2 cup

 (For Filling)

• 1 1/4 pounds ripe peaches
• 2 1/2 tablespoons light brown sugar
• 1 tablespoon tapioca starch (find it at Asian markets)
• 2 tablespoons bourbon
• 3/4 teaspoon freshly squeezed lemon juice
• 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• Vegetable oil, for frying
• Cinnamon sugar (see note), for sprinkling. 

5chw4r7z tested, mother approved

Here's what you do with it:

• In a food processor, pulse together flour, sugar and salt. Add butter and pulse until mixture forms pea-size crumbs. Pulse in egg mixture a tablespoon at a time, until dough just comes together (you may not need all the egg mixture). Divide dough into 10 (or 12) equal pieces. Flatten into disks with your palm, wrap in plastic and chill for at least 45 minutes.- I used a plastic produce bag and layered the disks on top of each other. Use this time to clean your kitchen, play Candy Crush, and feel really good about your kitchen skills so far.
  
• Meanwhile, make filling: Using a paring knife, peel and pit peaches (I didn't peel); slice into quarters or eighths, if they're giant peaches. Transfer peaches to a large skillet. Stir in sugar, tapioca starch, bourbon (and bourbon vanilla, if you've got it), lemon juice and cinnamon. Let sit for 10 minutes, then bring to a simmer over medium-high heat. Cook until sugar dissolves, 2 to 3 minutes. - I think I wandered off at some point, and when I came back the mixture had REALLY cooked down, so I deglazed my pan with a 1/2 cup of water, which ended up making more of a sauce. So do that. Transfer mixture to a bowl, preferably metal, and freeze for at least 20 minutes to cool, stirring once or twice. Stirring is important. You want both the pastry and the filling to be cold. It's cool to still feel good about your skills at this point. You awesome cook, you.
  
• Fill a medium pot with 4 inches of oil and heat to 375 degrees. On an extremely floured surface, roll out dough into 6-inch rounds - or so. Don't make the pastry so thin you can see your counter top through it. Use lots of flour. Put the pastry in your hand, and place a spoonful of filling in center of each round. Don't overdo it. Using a pastry brush, lightly moisten edges of each circle with water. Wrap the pastry around and seal. Flip the pastry over in your hand to ensure the seal, also because having a bunch of pastry on the bottom will hold the seal better. Don't make too many at once. How ya feeling now, hot shot?
  
• Okay, now it's go time. Make a pie, put it (gently) in the oil. While it's frying, make another. Flip the first one over, put the second one in. While that one's frying, make a third. When you're done with the third, take out the first, put it on a paper-towel plate, put cinnamon sugar on it, flip the second, put in the third. Check your oil temperature. Curse at the pies that are exploding in your hands. Try not to freak out. It will be over soon. Here's the point where your formerly clean kitchen is a flour-covered disaster zone, your hand is burnt, your pies have oozed and exploded a hundred times, and you have to be somewhere in a half an hour. This is what humility feels like. Savor it.

Note: If you don't know how to make cinnamon sugar, you should maybe re-think making this recipe.

Manic Pixie Dream Girl: a Defense

it starts early.

I am eccentric - always have been. From a young age, I was the bookworm who made up stories in her head and never quite had enough play-dates. In high school, I wore a duct tape dress to prom, and was very nearly voted "Most Unique" - queen of the drama kids, floating in between social circles - cool enough to say hi to in the hall, but not to get invited to parties. It didn't bother me.

Thrift store shopping, weird catch phrases, a propensity to speak my mind and somehow get away with it- I embraced the strange parts of me, and so did everyone else. I mostly grew out of my awkwardness and quickly learned that my bubbly personality and unique style was attractive (especially in art school). The attention didn't inspire me to work harder on my twee - but it certainly didn't discourage it, either.

Then a year or two ago, I learned there was a term for girls like me. Manic Pixie Dream Girl! You know, like Zooey Deschanel. or Audrey Hepburn. I got grouped in with two of my favorite actresses? Sign me up for that. It didn't change who I was, and it was a cute moniker; an easy to understand facet of my more public personal brand.

Over the last few months, though, it's stopped being sunshine and unicorns. Ugly, dismissive articles are popping up across the web. Dissecting the stereotype - women bravely coming forward and confessing that it was all just an act - a way to get men to like them - that they purposefully diminished certain parts of their personality to come across a certain way.

I'm here to tell you that some of us are authentic. This is just the way we are. Just like there are some men who are more or less Michael Cera's shy character. I know; I dated one.

oh God. the twee. Make it stop.

To assume that I am manufacturing my personality to fit a stereotype or please someone else is even more condescending than backing away from the label in the first place. Just because you put a name on who I am and stuck it in there with your other female stereotypes does not somehow make me less. To insinuate that I should stop being so cutesy - how dare I?

That my interests and personality should be changed in some way so you can feel better about the way you think and feel about me as a man - so you'll stop making me the girl of your dreams - is not going to happen. Screw you.

I have a girlfriend who is Elle Woods. Graduated law school, blonde and bubbly as they come, with an apartment full of inspirational sayings and glittery tchotchkes that would look out of place anywhere else (hey Britt!) She is also one of the smartest, most articulate women I've ever met, and she will not hesitate to rip you a new one - even dressed to the nines in her favorite OSU gear (light up sunglasses and pom pom gloves). We are who we are. You're the ones putting us in a box.

So this Manic Pixie Dream Girl label - the backing away from it, the dismissal of us women who have always embraced the quirky - eventually it will go out of vogue, and intellectual men-children everywhere will find some other trope to jerk off to. That's not going to change me. When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple, with a red hat that doesn't match, and continue doing and acting however I see fit - and we'll see who has a crush on me then.

Are you actually attracted to the idea that I'm some waify little daydream that's going to swoop in and magically change your life? Maybe you're drawn to my authenticity and confidence - and the rest of the world has followed suit. No doubt about it - MPDG is the fashion of the times.

Let's break apart the acronym and see where it goes south, shall we? Remember, the original definition was created by a (male) movie reviewer who saw a pattern to these tragic supporting actresses whose characters were presumably written by men, but based off real women- or so he assumed.

Manic - Dictionary definition: frenzied, intense, mad, frenetic. from mania - infatuation, passion, preoccupation, craving, fixation, madness. Wait one second. Infatuation? Preoccupation? We're not the crazy ones - it's you sad sacks that are obsessed with us. The mania is not from the girl - it's of the girl. Not her fault (or often, even her intention.)

Pixie - playfully impish or mischievous; prankish. Again - another assumption - we're driving you mad, and it MUST be intentional. We're playing with your heart strings, tugging you around by the nose, all for a good laugh. Because sucking you in with my eclectic nature and then breaking your heart by not actually being interested in you is somehow my fault. 

Dream - not based in reality. I am a real person, with flaws and imperfections and bad hair days. Sometimes I'm not witty or interesting or adorable. And the moment I'm not, the illusion shatters. Get to know the real girl and embrace her wholeness.

Girl - not a woman. Definitely defenseless. Must be taken care of. - Okay, I'll admit fault on this one. It's fun to occasionally play the damsel in distress. Being taken care of feels good - sometimes. I've experienced enough heartache in my life - and seen the real life scenario play out in my family - to know that at the end of the day, I have to take care of me. Just because I wear twirly dresses and ride my bike in high heels doesn't mean I'm helpless.

This label is not a reflection of me. It's a reflection of you - I'm not manic, pixie, a dream, or at this point, even a girl. Yet somehow, these tragic, shallow adjectives got attached to a category of women who dared to step outside the confines of acting "normal".

I'm gonna keep doing me, whatever you want to call it.

The negatives of the trope do not diminish the positives of my personality. Am I doing myself a disservice by accepting the stereotype? (I did the same thing with 'hipster', by the way.) I'm gonna go with no.

I can't change the way you act or perceive me. I can only directly affect how I act and how I perceive others. And you know what? I choose positivity, and petticoats, and painted toes, and looking for the best in people.

Stop pooping on my parade - leave us quirky women alone, to our cats, bicycles, and pie baking. Or swoop us off our feet and fall in love with our unique natures and sparkly souls - and our bad sides, too. But seriously, stop the shame, and adjust your viewpoint.

Maybe we need a new label - I'm certainly open to suggestions. I'll still be here, doing my thing, whether you're paying attention or not.

Loose Bottomed Tart Pans and Other Baking Innuendos

There's a lot of things I excel at. Pie crust is not one of them. The New York Times recently posted an article rounding up their top twenty pie recipes- with a suggestion to try a few while summer is in full swing. Friends, I am convinced that it would be a shame to let any of these delicious sounding pie remain unmade. Thus begins my challenge.

End result

I am making one of these pies every week (barring sickness or travel) for the next twenty weeks. Every Thursday at 7pm I will be serving a new pie - hopefully bringing together new groups of people to enjoy company and dessert.

So anyway. I made a pie yesterday. An Easy Summer Fruit Tart - with a mix of jams and jellies and fresh to bursting peaches and plums from Findlay Market. The crust came together surprisingly well, though a little sticky - I didn't flour my work-surface quite enough. I thought it would be harder to arrange the fruit, but seven or eight little plums and five or six largish peaches exactly filled my pan. It was a little leaky after removed from the oven - I may have used too much jam. But the lovely people I shared it with at the cookout (cook-in, it was really rainy!) yesterday didn't seem to mind too much.

The one thing about the recipe that really threw me off (I had to consult my mother and a foodie friend for secondary opinions) was the it called for a specific type of pan - specifically, a springform style with removable sides. I used the pan usually required for cheesecakes, but I had a good chuckle over their recommendation of a "loose bottomed tart pan". Oh, come on. You laughed, too!

Easy Summer Fruit Tart - adapted from this recipe

Total time: 1.5 hours
Serves 8
Really good cold and for breakfast

Here's what you need:

• 1.5 cups flour, plus more for rolling
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 4 tablespoons sugar
• 11 tablespoons cold unsalted butter
• 1 egg yolk, beaten
• 2 1/2 to 3 pounds fruit - I used six or seven small plums and five or six larger peaches. Figs, nectarines, or apricots would also work well. 
• 6 tablespoons preserves - I used a combination of strawberry jalapeno, apricot, and raspberry

Here's what you do with it:

• Blend flour, salt and 2 tablespoons sugar in a bowl or food processor. Dice 8 tablespoons of the butter. Use a pastry blender or two knives to blend flour mixture and butter, or pulse them together in a food processor to make a crumbly mixture. Beat the egg yolk with 3 tablespoons cold water. Dribble it over the flour mixture, then stir or pulse slowly until the mixture starts clumping together. A bit more water may be necessary. Gather dough in a loose ball and form into a disk on a floured surface.

I was nervous the fruit wouldn't stand up, but it worked out well.

• Heat oven to 375 degrees. Roll out dough and line a 10-inch loose-bottom tart pan- what they mean here is some sort of springform pan. But they worded it funny-  Blind bake pastry for 12 minutes - line with foil and put pastry weights or dried beans on top. Meanwhile, melt the remaining butter, cooking it on low until it turns a light brown. Pit fruit and cut in eighths or, if fruit is small, fourths. After 12 minutes, remove foil and weights from pastry. Return pastry to oven and continue baking until it is lightly browned, another 8 to 10 minutes. Remove pastry from oven and increase temperature to 400 degrees.
• Brush pastry with preserves. Arrange fruit in tight concentric circles, starting by placing it around the perimeter, skin side down, against the vertical sides of the pastry and standing it up as much as possible. Brush with melted butter. Dust with remaining sugar. Bake about 35 to 40 minutes, until edges have browned but fruit has not collapsed. Refrigerate and serve with creme fraiche, if desired.

The FunSaver Experiment

we're gonna party like it's 1999.

It's easy to forget how convenient and advanced technology is these days. In an attempt to test my willpower and try something new, I recently purchased a FunSaver camera (yep, one of those...) from my local CVS. I have fond memories of field trips and weeks at camp captured forever, red-eyed and sometimes blurry, by the hands of a fifth grader. Nostalgia clouded my brain, and you know I never turn down the opportunity to try something out of the ordinary.

It took my friends and I over 10 minutes to completely remember how to use the thing. Hint: the flash button is on the FRONT. The thrill of composing the shot, waiting for the right moment- even the clickity clack of the wheel as I pulled my thumb across to advance the film- sent waves of nostalgia washing over me. I was sure that, nearly 20 years later, my photography skills would be much improved.

this one actually turned out okay-ish.

So I stuck the thing in my purse for the better part of four weekends, carrying it with me every time I went out. Opening Day celebrations, warehouse parties, St. Patrick's Day... it even came along to Seattle for the final frame. I practically dragged the friend I was visiting to the closest Walgreens, breathlessly counting down the hours until the prints would be finished. And yes, I got doubles.

There's nothing earth-shattering about these pictures. A lot of goofy faces, with people that are important to me. Many shots didn't even turn out because I kept forgetting to use the flash. No filters, no share mechanism, and more money than I've spent on photography in quite a while - it certainly wasn't the picture experience I've been used to for the last several years..

Still, the physical experience of composing the frame, having no idea what the final result would be, and the looks of confusion and recognition on my friends' faces when I pulled out the camera was pretty priceless. I will stay digital with my photos from here on out, but the opportunity and experience was a little diversion from our hyper-tech, connected world.

Let the Wild Rumpus Start.

I'm staring down the barrel of my 26th birthday. I've always maintained that May 5th is the best day for birthdays, since everyone celebrates with me - even more so since I'm right to next to Kentucky, and the Derby always falls right around (or last year, on!) the date. So bring on the juleps, the margaritas, pinatas and rat racing. It's party time!

sometimes I sing in a bar.

I'm asking you, friends and voracious, beautiful readers, for a birthday present this year. I'm in a choir- the Young Professional's Choral Collective - a really incredible group of people that used to sing in college and high school (okay, there are a few that are musically employed) and wanted an outlet to sing together.

We practice in bars and perform in parks, and it's an amazing experience that weaves us into the OTR neighborhood in a significant way. The directors do this on top of their other jobs, and it's very inexpensive for us singers to participate - but we need funds to keep producing music and concerts (paying for music rights, sound equipment and lights, and compensating the people at the top who keep the whole caboodle going.)

We're holding an indiegogo campaign to raise money for next season. We're not a nonprofit, and we only hold a few concerts a year - many of them free for audiences.

Instead of buying me a drink this weekend, could you chip in $5 (or more maybe) to YP/CC instead?

I know you enjoyed the video clips (including one of me looking like a doofus because I'm an overly expressive singer. THANKS SHOW CHOIR.).

We're holding a concert on May 4th. If YOU want to come sing with us for a day, we'll be doing that on May 11. We'll also be singing in Washington Park on May 17th and at the Go OTR Celebration on May 18th. The arts in Cincinnati help contribute to our sense of place and establish great neighborhoods. Thanks for your help.

Donate Please!

Cincinnati vs. the upper Northwest.

I recently got to go out to the Pacific Northwest for the first time ever. The combination of newfound freedoms and an intensely good deal on a roundtrip ticket were the main motivations; the opportunity to meet up with long-time friends sealed the deal.

It was my first trip planned and executed mostly solo, which ended up being a lot of fun. Seattle in springtime is beautiful. The results of people invested in their neighborhoods and a rainy, temperate climate is flowers. Everywhere, beautiful, incredible amounts of flowers. Flowering trees, tulips, even the grass exploded with tiny white, purple and yellow blossoms. The sun came out for a bit while I was there and I got to soak the beauty of a blossoming landscape married with blue sky, water, and distant mountains.


I feel like Cincinnati is the kid brother to post-pubescent Seattle and Portland. These cities have a good 20 years on us in terms of people investing heavily in the small businesses in their community. The result is a positive swirl of tons of businesses open because people only shop there because there are amazing businesses that customers want and are in turn supported... you see what I'm saying. The infrastructure is there. The culture is there. The energy is palpable, and it's easy to get swept up with awe of so many interesting places to eat, drink, shop and try. There's art everywhere. It's beautiful. It's easy to get around.

And in 10 years, Cincy will be there, too. We're in our awkward phase - promising starts, complete with braces and figuring out what we want to be when we grow up - but imitating our elders as best we can. It's easy to look at the city with a bemused smile, hopeful with the potential of what will mature and become of us with the right training and investment. We're so close, you can taste it. (and a city being impossibly close to maturity and amazingness tastes like waffles, beer, and a sense of community)

Everything I experienced in Seattle and Portland reaffirmed my commitment to Cincinnati. By seeing what IS in other cities, I only get more and more excited as I see the starts and shoots of our community finally growing up into its own skin. In the next few years our OTR, Walnut Hills, Price Hill, Clifton will grow into the richness of Capitol Hill, Queen Anne, Fremont, Bell District.

Our progess, however, will be even better and more beautiful- Cincinnati has history, architecture, and diversity that the upper Northwest can only dream about. But the development and progress will be significantly hindered if the streetcar project gets canceled or delayed any longer. Plus, we're way nicer. Seriously. No one in Seattle says hi or acknowledges each other on the street, which really threw me off.

Why is this project STILL an issue? If we're going to dream big, if we want to get noticed - and it's clear from the development that's happened thus far that our leaders, business people, and citizens like the positive attention we're getting - we must move forward with this project. Rail is necessary for our forward motion, and we must continue. To stop it in its tracks will drag us back.

Our citizens deserve the opportunity to live without being tied to a car. We deserve the development that occurs around permanent transit. It's past time for us to step up and accept that we are growing into something great - that the naysayers are rendered irrelevant, and the only way out is up.

I am SO TIRED of having this argument. But I will step up, one last time. Monday, April 29 at City Hall. Please come at 5:30 pm to support the Cincinnati Streetcar project, and show City Council that this city deserves the progress it's capable of completing. See you there. Sign up to speak. I'll have stickers, buttons, and t-shirts for those who want to visually show they're a supporter. If you're looking for some great perspective on the project from a cool guy running for council, check here.

In the meantime, check out my pics from my trip... and be reminded of Cincinnati's potential.

Korma Points

Despite the temperatures outside, I've decided spring is here, and am acting accordingly. Lots of changes made my world topsy-turvy lately, and yesterday I spent the better part of six hours cleaning and reorganizing my apartment in an effort to restore some concrete order to my world.

Declutter. Throw away the trash and debris accumulated from too much junkmail and time spent rushing place to place. Get as much furniture as possible off the wood floors. Shake out the rugs. Sweep the floors. Mop the floors. Old English out the scratches. Dust the surfaces. Vacuum the carpets. Roller brush the upholstery in a vain attempt to remove cat hair. Put everything back. Wipe down the counters. Do the dishes. Now what?

pretty, right?

I was on a domestic streak and didn't want to break it. The only next step was to cook dinner. A delicious, comforting, quasi-healthy dish whose scent would linger and remind me that I am, indeed, capable of great things. This dish hits the spot. Creamy, a little sweet, definitely spicy, and chock full of delicious goodies - I used chicken, sweet potatoes, peas, red pepper, and a liberal amount of golden raisins and cashews. A treasure trove in every bite. 

This recipe marks one of the first times I've ever used the cooking technique of mise-en-place - you know, chopping all my stuff up into cute little bowls BEFORE throwing it in the pan, preventing the usual scramble of chopping and tossing and general mayhem that generally happens in my kitchen experiments. I used a bowl to hold my veggie scraps too, which worked wonders in keeping my counters less cluttered. 

Organization, cleanliness, following a recipe (okay, I smashed two together, but still!)... am I growing up?

 

Curried Coconut Massaman Chicken Korma Thing

(adapted from this recipe and this recipe)

M-i-P bowl 1:

Mince:

4 cloves garlic

1 large shallot

3 TBSP minced ginger

Melt 2-3 TBSP ghee in a large saucepan with tall edges. 

Add the ingredients from bowl 1 and saute over med-high heat for 3 minutes or so. 

M-i-P bowl 2:

Approx 1 tsp each:

Cayenne pepper

Curry powder (I added a little more)

Tumeric

Cardamom (1/8 tsp)

Garam Masala

Cumin

3 bay leaves

Add your bowl of spices to the pan. Saute 1-2 minutes to release the flavors. 

Stir in 1/2 cup chicken or veggie stock, squeeze of lime juice, 2 TBSP fish sauce and 1 TBSP brown sugar, and let it come to a boil in the pan. 

M-i-P bowl 3:

Dice into uniform cubes:

1 red pepper

1 medium sweet potato (the smaller the cubes, the faster it will cook)

2 ripe roma tomatoes

1/2 cup frozen peas (more if you like more peas, I guess)

Add bowl 3 and turn heat to med-low. Let mixture come to a simmer, then add 1 can tomato paste (the tiny one) and 1 can coconut milk (14 oz). Cook, stirring occasionally, until chicken and vegetables are cooked through and sauce is thickened. Add as many cashews and golden raisins as you want. 

Serve over rice or couscous. 

Makes enough probably for 4-6 at one go, or if you're me and my roommate, at least three meals. 

Bockfest is coming!

There are two weekends in Cincinnati you just can't miss. The first is MidPoint Music Festival, at the end of September. The second is Bockfest - a 21 year old weekend festival ushering the first signs of spring with goats, monks, and delicious beer -- and it's THIS weekend! (March 1-3!) --  Watch out for the girl in the captain's hat causing a ruckus - that will be me.

To get in the spirit, I'm sharing an infographic I created last year as a fun demonstration of skills for my previous employer. Get the facts on beer in the Queen City!

The Climb- a short story

The cold wind mussed our hair, causing jackets to be zipped closer, hats pulled down tighter. Standing in a lopsided circle on damp ground in the back woods of southern Ohio, the 56 of us looked quizzically at each other and towards the wooden monstrosity waiting some 50 yards away.

The picture doesn't do this terror justice, but you get the idea.

"Welcome to the Alpine Tower," shouted the genial, bearded dude, decked out in climbing harness and carabinered water bottle. Randall explained the process, describing how several dozen of us were going to scale the 65-foot tall structure, outfitted with dangling ladders, precariously placed footholds, ropes and metal jiggers holding the thing together like a giant's game of Jenga.

I cracked a smile to the girl standing next to me. Tanja and I had walked the trail up to the Tower, comparing notes on big-sisterhood and growing up in tough situations. We promised each other it would be no big deal, that despite our mutual trepidation of heights, we'd both scale the tower and have a great time doing it.

The entire day at Camp Joy was comprised of a variety of team building exercises and facilitated conversations on vulnerability and leadership for the group of us- C-Change, Class 8. I'd participated in weekend retreats in a similar fashion, but never as an adult. I'd broken down some of my barriers and already learned a ton about changing my attitudes and opening up as a way to lead from behind. I had no idea how vulnerable I'd make myself in the next hour.

I adjusted my helmet and watched as 4, 6, 10 of my new colleagues sauntered up the poles. Connected to ropes with a dedicated belay team, there was no possible way anyone would hurt themselves. Those of us at the bottom shouted encouragement and advice to our friends who were trying to make their way up the tower. After some careful observation, and with a sinking feeling in my chest, I cheerfully volunteered to be the next to ascend the structure. Fake it til you make it, right?

I don't do heights. Being on the edge of bridges makes me dizzy, and while I enjoy roller coasters, it's only because I do so completely encased in a metal cage. My friend Jamie's trapeze birthday was an exercise in courage, and it was only 30 feet or so up in the air. Yet, here I was. The only way out was up.

I slowly clambered up the first telephone pole, making it about 25 feet in the air, and then froze. The ground was too far away, and I was completely unfamiliar with the rock climbing hand and footholds that were my only access to moving up the thing. They seemed too small, too unwieldy to support me. I clung to the wood like an overgrown koala and tried to breathe without crying. There was no way I was going to make it.

An actual few minutes spent clinging to the base, debating my options, considering giving up, felt like hours. My new classmates were shouting encouragement to me, and I felt like a failure. One voice, I don't know whose, floated up to me: "Keep looking up! Keep going!" I awkwardly flung a leg over a connecting piece of the puzzle, and began the climb again.

It was ridiculous, really. I stopped and started no fewer than five more times before reaching the top, flinging colorful curse words and unbridled shrieks of terror to the wind whenever I felt I'd made a mistake. The team on the ground never gave up on me. I was sure they were laughing at the absurd spectacle I was making of myself - I was perfectly safe; there was no reason for fear. But taming my inner lizard-brain was incredibly difficult.

I don't remember exactly how I ascended to the final platform - it was some combination of my anxious beached-whale kicking and the patient climb instructor hauling on my harness. But the yawp I released -full of triumph, fear, joy, adrenaline- could be heard the next county over; that, I remember. I warmed my frozen fingers with my breath, waiting on the platform with new friends comparing notes, and flung myself voluntarily over the edge of the precipice to zipline to the ground below.

Other challenges that lie before me are comparatively, cake. Bring 'em on.

The Truth about Diner-en-Blanc

Unless you were under a social media rock last Saturday, you saw various outlets explode with tweets and pictures about this Dinur and Blank thing.

I went.

I saw.

I managed not to get tomato sauce on my borrowed white dress.

You want to know the truth behind the flash-mob paid picnic craze that's sweeping the world?

It's a giant pain in the ass. How French!

A very pretty, fun, champagne-floaty bother in the rear end. But my, the people watching was exquisite. And you know I can't resist a chance to a) do something unique b) that might be kind of exclusive and c) requires dressing up where d) I'll get to talk about it afterwards.
And so here I am, talking bout it.

Judging from my fellow picnickers (and come on, everyone was judging each other), attendees fell into three categories (note: none of these are bad or wrong, just my snarky assessment!):

1) Older Couples - older men and women who have things like wedding china, fold up tables, and rolling carts already in their possession. White linen pants? Check. Fancy silver? Check. Pay the registry fee, stop by Fresh Market, and wham bam thank you mam - they were ready for a picnic.

2) Younger Socialites - The "In" Crowd was able to go out and buy all the things they needed for an exquisite picnic on the lawn. Designer dresses, catered dinners, elaborate table setups - no worries. If you have the cash, your picnic evening was a multi-champagne-bottle, $100 Orchid picnic basket breeze.

We fall under #3 - borrowed dresses, pants on clearance, and accessories from Cappel's

3) The Rest of Us Who Like Weird Hard Things To Do Because It's Fun: after days of thrift store and outlet scrounging (white pants after Labor Day?!), borrowing furniture from three sets of relatives (thank you Aunt Karla, Liz's mom, and Ali's grandma), my roommate, boyfriend, and other friend scraped together a quasi-acceptable get up. We made our own, very French dinner... totally oblivious to the fact that our courses were all tomato based until after we arrived to the picnic. (No one spilled, amazingly.)

That afternoon we scrambled to get everything packed and ready, adjusted our white accoutrements, and set off to hoof it down from 14th Street to the meeting point at 3rd Street - not a far jaunt until you're trying to juggle folding tables, chairs, still-drying spray painted plastic animals, and a 60 pound dolly with leaky chicken tangine and squished linens and flowers. In heels.

this got turned into

this (Horatio, Polonius, Demetrius and Vernon)

Luckily for us my dear friend Lauren happened to be driving by and took pity on us. She helped us transport most of the stuff in her car, chuckling at us being all stressed out about a picnic.

Once we were settled in, unpacked, eating (AND DRINKING), the night was exquisite. After feasting on our delicious dinner, naming our silver plastic animals (Horatio, Demetrius, Polonius, and Vernon), and splitting a few bottles of bubbly, the effects of the night set in. We were surrounded by hundreds of others dressed in white. The candlelight flickered softly, the French music was in the air, and everyone was laughing, drinking, eating, and eventually dancing.

Liz and Ali and our lovely table

We saw lots of friends, and at the end of the evening, lighting sparklers and releasing white balloons in the air was a beautiful, unique experience (I was tipsy enough to not let the thought of hundreds of balloons ruining the environment bother me). The DJ at the end of the evening was killer, and we all got our dance on.

all's well that ends very well

Would I do it again? Yeah, probably.
With one under my belt, I'm feeling a little better prepared. Next year can only be even better!


For much better photography (and food) check out 513{eats}.

Tips for Diner-En-Blanc:

* Share food with friends.
* Make sure your food is not soupy or red.
* Bring lots of champagne.
* Travel most of the way in a car if you can.
* Simple is easier
* Enjoy!

Reaching new heights

My dear friend Jamie wanted to try something new for her birthday. This past Sunday, we did a trapeze class with Cincinnati Circus Company. They set up a net and trapeze system in Burnet Woods right across from DAAP, so hundreds of people drove by while we got harnessed in and climbed thirty feet in the air to swing from our arms.

not me

Jamie, Lauren, and Kristin all fearlessly climbed to the top and swung upside down from their knees, doing flips, and even swinging by another's hands - circus style!

I am not inclined to be upside down. At all. I can't do a cartwheel. I never signed me up for cheerleading or gymnastics. I got to be the comic relief in our group, managing to ascend the ladder and swing awkwardly by my arms all while praying not to be killed in the myriad of ways that were mentioned in the release form we signed. Someone had to do it.

more my speed

"Go ahead and get your knees up!" called the spotter from the ground. "No freaking way!" was my reply.

I faced my fears, and tried something new. Whatever keeps you fresh!

ouch!

This is why we go to work every day.

I'm baaaack! Phew! 9 days jam packed with adventures in transportation, language, maps, and eating lots of great food.  While we were eating our first meal abroad, soaking in the sights and sounds over a glass of wine, my friend Katie looked around and said, "so. This is why we go to work every day." I couldn't agree more. Rack up that vacation time, pinch your pennies, and get the heck out of Dodge, friends. Travel is exhilarating. I take a great deal of satisfaction from figuring a city out- learning how to navigate around, finding the best places to eat, shop, do things, and having spontaneous experiences along the way. This trip encompassed all that and more. I was a little tweaky about the entire experience, but only because I was so excited to be out of the country, exploring, on vacation.

I wanted to do it all!!
News flash: not possible. ESPECIALLY in Paris. We spent four days in Paris and I could go back three more times and not have a repeat experience. Not knowing much French was also frustrating - but now I'm pretty good at asking for the check!

For your reading pleasure: a short collections of tips, tricks, experiences and oddities that comprised my trip abroad - if you're wanting to travel to Europe, maybe this will inspire you!

***

* Pack light. Lay out all the things you'd like to take with you... then remove half of it. I did this and STILL could have left things at home. Streets in Europe are windy and cobblestoned, and if you're staying at a more reasonably priced hostel or hotel, you might have to walk a ways from the train station - which makes lugging a huge suitcase a pain... plus you look lame. I packed all my clothes into a Jansport rolling backpack, and brought a day bag with LOTS of pockets. It sounds lame, but the rolling backpack is great - you can pull it in airports and swing it on your back for the cobblestones. Also, it fits in the carryon section of the plane. Don't be scared - just bring a little container of laundry detergent and you can wash clothes if you need to. 

For 10 days, I took 5 pairs of underwear, 3 bras, 3 short sleeved shirts (rolled up), 2 sundresses (rolled up) 4 pairs of tights/leggins (rolled up), one pair of black ankle pants, 3 tunics, and 2 long sleeved shirts. Throw in a few accessories, 2 pairs of shoes and as long as your colors coordinate, you can mix and match for tons of different outfits. And if you're a dude... well, you're only packing 3 outfits anyway. Easy peasy. 

* Print things out. I had printed Google maps directions from each main train station to each hostel - transit directions with walking. This was super helpful and made transitioning from city to city easier.

* Smart phones are awesome. I used the MyMaps, SpeakEasy French, and Spotted by Locals apps while we were abroad, and Dana used MyTrip. The Maps app was able to pick up our location, which helped when we biked ourselves all the way over to the far eastern suburbs of Amsterdam by accident. And unless you're a really, REALLY big camera buff, leave the DSLR at home. The iPhone 4S camera worked well for my needs. It was much easier to retrieve for a quick picture, and wasn't nearly as heavy.

* Do your research - but be flexible.  I was SO excited about this trip, I did tons of research to prepare. I scoured HostelWorld for the best hotel/apartment deals (and we got to stay at some sweet places, including a boat hotel! Yep, a private boat.) I made a Pinterest board. I downloaded the Spotted by Locals guides for each city. I made lists and read books. Ultimately, though, there was so much to do in each city, it eventually bogged me down. I knew I wouldn't be able to experience everything (even though I tried convincing myself I could), and ended up getting a little pouty when I had to compromise or realized the truth. Once I let go of my expectations and enjoyed the present, I had a lot more fun.

* Take the trains! Using the public transportation in a new city can be intimidating, but it doesn't have to be. It saves a lot of walking in bigger cities and is a fun experience in and of itself. Paris' metro has a 3 day card you can buy with unlimited rides in the city. Paris has a metro (subway) and the RER - commuter rail lines. Also, pull the latch up to open the doors if they don't open automatically.

Brussels has trams and a small Metro line. The trains don't run at night, only the trams do. This means some of the trams (above ground) don't run during the day. We didn't figure this out for a good half an hour and were waiting like dummies for a tram that never came.

Amsterdam has above ground trams. They're very efficient and run every few minutes. At night only the door near the front of the tram opens. Again, we learned this the hard way.

* Brussels is totally underrated. We loved Brussels. It's not a place I would spend an entire week, but it is an extremely manageable city for a few days' visit. It's easy to navigate and fairly small. The locals are nice and will speak whatever language necessary to communicate - I'm pretty sure I haggled with a guy over some trinkets in a mixture of Spanish, French, and English. The architecture is BEAUTIFUL, there is a lot of history, and the food is yummy! Waffles, beer, fries... we even had some really excellent Indian food. I'd recommend Brussels (with a day trip to Brugge) for people who feel super overwhelmed in a huge city or are new to traveling.

Sketchbook/journal!

* Sketching is fun! The last time I traveled to Europe was for an architecture study abroad program, and we sketched all sorts of landmarks during our travels across Scandinavia. Visually analyzing a space is helpful to understand it more completely... but you don't have to be an architecture student to keep a sketchbook/journal. I did at least one half-hour sketch a day - usually while we were eating or resting in a park or someplace pretty - and recorded our adventures every day. It's a tangible memory that I can look back on later. 

The biggest thing I realized on my journey across the ocean? I am capable. The pancake picture was taken at my "lowest" point on the trip - I had gotten seperated from Isaac in Amsterdam in the pouring rain without an umbrella or a way to directly contact him. It was a potentially scary sort of situation, but then I realized: I knew where I was and where I was going (we were headed back to a deli to buy some Curiousity Cola); I had money and a tram card; I knew how to get back and into the hotel; and I was certain Isaac would wait for me and we'd figure it out. So instead of freaking out, I celebrated - enjoying the quiet of the city in the rain. I bought myself a little pannekoek (like a crepe or blini) and recognized the moment.

If I can figure things out in a foreign city on my own, the challenges waiting for me back in Cincinnati are a piece of cake.

Check out the rest of the trip!

Leaving and it feels so good.

If you've paid the slightest bit of attention to me this week you already know. I'm getting ready to go on a trip! Isaac and our friends Katie and Dana and myself are all gearing up to spend the next 10 days in Paris, Brussels, and Amsterdam. I've struggled a little bit with not wanting to gush and tell the whole world - that can get annoying. But for me, this isn't just some vacation.

This trip represents so much more. The last time I was out of the country was 2008. The last time I took a trip longer than 4 days was in 2010. This is my first vacation as an Adult with an A. I'm in a secure enough place financially, emotionally, and with my job that I've saved up enough cash and vacation days to go somewhere new with people I love.

I've been packed since Tuesday. I've researched everything from hostels and trains to bike rentals and places to eat cheap, local food. I've been practicing my French (my roomie wrote me out a cheat sheet, and there are some apps that are helpful.) The only thing left to do is leave.

Maybe it's humblebragging. Maybe it's annoying. But honestly? I don't care. I've worked my butt off for the last 2 years to get to this moment. I hope ya'all can celebrate this with me.

Au revoir!

Goetz Alley Update

Though I love doing graphic design and marketing work at ArtsWave, I still occasionally miss interior design (my undergrad degree.) My friends Sarah, Justin and I teamed up with our design skills and entered a urban design competition with the Niehoff Studio and UC's Community Design Center.

The DIY Urbanism competition proposed designing a project utilizing public space that would, if implemented, be a temporary installation altering the space for the public good. After some discussion (and searching on the Hamiltion County Auditor's website for possible public spaces), my team started tossing around the idea of altering one of the alleys in Over-the-Rhine to make it a more hospitable space.

Our final result is the Goetz Alley Update. Goetz Alley is parallel to Main Street in Over-the-Rhine, connecting 12th Street near Park + Vine and Neon's all the way north to Liberty Street. Inspired by public installations in France, Copenhagen, and NYC, we envisioned a series of lighted sculpture pieces creating a colored walkway, leading Fringe Festival attendees (this is a pretend temporary installation, remember) from one venue to another.

The basic setup takes standard scaffolding and colored 3-Form plexiglass, along with solar powered LED tube lighting, to create the arches. With one color of plexi spanning one block, the combination of scaffolds create a wayfinding system and a colorful, unique experience that is surprising and dynamic, day and night.

Our team trio was unstoppable - we created the idea, drawings, and board in under 15 hours - after work! I headed up the concepting, copy, and graphics - maps and board layout. Sarah was a rendering superstar - she developed the awesome drawings in Photoshop. Justin (an arch major at DAAP) went technical and figured out how it would all work - and created an exploded axon drawing showing how the sculpture came together.

The cool thing about this project is that it is actually pretty feasible - could probably come together for around $1000 or so. The end result is a clean, safe, alternative way to get around in OTR. We wanted to reverse all the reasons people don't hang out in alleys more.

If you want to see it in person, please come to the DIY Urbanism reception - there's a people's choice award (so you could vote for the project...) and see the other submissions from other local designers. It's Friday, June 1, from 6-9 pm, at the Architecture Foundation of Cincinnati - 811 Race Street (next to the CityBeat offices). See you there? If not, the exhibit is open from June 1st - June 14th.

Check out the deets (and more work, hint!) on my portfolio site.

Your Goof, My Gain

Over the last year or so, several companies and organizations have managed to embarass themselves in some way online. Social media is still something of a wild west, and even the biggest brands have the potential to really mess up their marketing. One wrong move and the People of The Internet let them have it. Everyone makes mistakes, but an online gaffe seems to have more impact - say or do the wrong thing and your idiocy will be on display for the whole world to mock.

I'm something of an expert when it comes to sticking my foot in my mouth in personal and professional interactions- thought I've gotten a LOT better since my first co-op job in 2007. I've culled my favorite Foot in Online Mouth moments from brands over the past year and siphoned out some lessons we can all learn.

1. Kony 2012- the video and activism campaign to bring Joseph Kony to justice went viral beyond Invisible Children's wildest imaginings - and stirred up global criticism. I'm of the opinion that IC was in the wide-eyed optimist camp and never imagined that their video would become as popular as it did - and were totally unprepared for the questions and backlash that subsequently followed. Their inability to completely answer the questions about the organization and affiliations caused a lot of confusion and diluted their original message - and the leader of the movement pretty much lost his mind. I would, too.

Lesson: For your sanity, vet yourself before everyone else does.

2. General Motors"bikes are lame" campaign- General Motors rolled out a huge ad campaign geared towards college students. The goal: shame bike riding and pedestrian college students into buying a new car. The problem? College students are among the top bike-riding demographic in the country, and the Millenial generation is particularly passionate about environmentalism - and voicing their opinions on the Internet. After thousands of irate college kids and bike supporters told GM how very wrong they were, the car giant sheepishly pulled the campaign - and made lots of apologies to individuals.
(picture source)

Lesson: Get outside opinions of your work before displaying it to the public - ESPECIALLY from your target demographic.

3. Chapstick - Chapstick's social ad campaign featured the above image. Someone online didn't like the prominence of the girl's booty in the air and wrote a comment on Chapstick's Facebook wall letting them know. Instead of responding to the message, the admins for the page deleted it. Other people also wrote on Chapstick's wall voicing their opinions about the ad - those got deleted, too. The sticking point is that the campaign hinged on one sentence:
"Be heard at facebook.com/chapstick" - Pretty soon people were posting so much that the admins couldn't keep up with deleting all the comments. The message ran away from them, and they posted a half-hearted apology without actually admitting they'd done anything wrong. (picture source)

Lesson: Own your mistakes - don't hide from critics. They won't go away.

4. Tidy Cat- a bit closer to home, Tidy Cat recently retracted an ad campaign that was directed at the Over-the-Rhine neighborhood. As part of their NoMorePU #lifestinks campaign, the kitty litter manufacturers posted a billboard: "You're so over Over-the-Rhine. #lifestinks" - The marketing team meant the joke to be directed towards the view of OTR from 10-15 years ago - a scary ghetto that no one would want to visit. Apparently they missed the memo that the neighborhood is in the midst of a renaissance, with new trendy businesses, arts groups, and a VERY passionate fan club. Word spread and Twitter revolted - taking Tidy Cat to task over their ignorance. The billboard was gone in less than three days. (picture source: Noel Prows)

Lesson: Do your homework! A city-specific ad + outdated opinions = very pissed off Cincinnati.

Maybe these lessons are obvious (they weren't to the big guys), but as more and more attention is focused in the digital realm, a haphazard or half-assed attempt at marketing online just isn't going to cut it.

Did I miss any?

How to be Safe-ish

Is OTR diverse? Heck yes! Scary? Eh. (photo by 5chw4r7z)

Oh, you live in Over-the-Rhine?... *whisper* don't you feel safe? I get this question more often than you would think. I usually laugh it off. I'm not one given to fear my surroundings. I've learned over the last year to replace fear for understanding, empathy, and confidence - tempered with trusting my gut and common sense.

But. But!

It's so SCARY in Over-the-Rhine!

Is it?

I mostly find it quiet... especially in the winter. I find it interesting. I find it diverse. I find it impossible to avoid my fellow humans... but not particularly scary.

It sucks when people get shot, get hurt, when bad things happen in my neighborhood... it really does. It also sucks in Westwood, Fairfield, Avondale, Clifton Heights, and other neighborhoods in the area.

The people I interact with on a daily basis - my neighbors - are an eclectic bunch. I am surrounded on both sides of my apartment building by Mercy Housing - that is, Section 8. You know, THOSE people. What people? People who aren't like me? Yep. We're all co-existing in close quarters. It's what people do in cities.

I'm not saying bad things don't happen. I'm not naiive; they do. But for the last 20 years we have been conned into this self-important state of believing we are special enough to be singled out, that there is terrifying danger lurking around every corner.

FBI statistics show we are living in a time with the least amount of violent crime in the last 40 years. Increased isolationism through suburban living, a 24 hour news cycle and crime-based TV shows (don't even get me started on Criminal Minds!) inflate our fears to the point where we think that EVERY stranger is out to get us. Come on. You're just not that important.

There was an editorial the Enquirer ran about a man who went downtown and Over-the-Rhine one Saturday, and had a great time with his family. When he came home he found out someone had been shot hours after he had been through the neighborhood, and declared he would think twice before going down again. 

 That's like saying you will never ever set foot in a car again after that multi-car pile up on the Brent Spence Bridge (or any other of the hundreds of car accidents that happen in the area every year, many of them deadly.) We certainly don't see that happening. "Safe" is a pretty relative term; taking risks is an inevitable part of life.

Look. You can do what you want. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I refuse to let fear or intimidation keep me from living my life. I've been mugged. I've had my house broken into. Yet, I move forward; I won't let fear of the past prevent me from the future. There's too many amazing things going on downtown and Over-the-Rhine to let the remote possibility of something bad happening prevent me from participating.

just a few of the fun and ridiculous things I could have missed out on by avoiding the 45202

If you don't buy or sell drugs or engage in prostitution, your odds of being shot in Over-the-Rhine automatically decrease by about 95%. Thieves mostly strike when they see opportunity - leaving change in your car or absentmindedly counting your cash while walking down the street will increase your odds.

That being said, here are my tips for decreasing your chances of being a victim of crime, anywhere. Don't come crying to me if it doesn't work, or blame me the next time something happens (because it will.) I'm just telling you what I do. No guarantees. Okay.

******

How to Stay Safe(r) - Anywhere.

* Don't carry a purse/bag if you can help it.
Purses are easy to grab and run off with, and are shiny and inviting. Only carry what you absolutely need - card/cash/id, keys, phone, chapstick. Put them in your pockets or utilize a friend with pockets if necessary. Alternatively, wear a bag or purse that goes across your chest instead of over your shoulder.

* Be aware of your surroundings.
Only keep one headphone bud in. Know what and who's around you. Walking with your head buried in your smart phone is a great way to get punched in the face by someone wanting your phone (a friend of mine found this out the hard way)

* Protect your ish.
Lock your phone. Get renter's insurance. Set up a GPS locator phone app to see where it's gone if it gets taken.

* Don't walk into trouble if you see it.
Riding your bike up hill and see a bunch of teenagers at the top? Turn around. Have the option to walk down a deserted dark street or go one block over to the busy, well lit one? Duh. See a drug deal going down? Ignore it.

* Engage.
Even if the person walking down the street from you sounds/smells/acts/looks different than you, the odds of them actively wanting to hurt you/take advantage of you are small. Smile. Say hello. 9 times out of 10 they will... smile and say hello right back. It's crazy, really.

* Listen.
Panhandlers happen. I try to listen to people when they're talking to me without initially brushing them off. They may have an elaborate story. They may want your money. They may just be wanting to talk your ear off. They may need directions. Before you brush someone off, listen and understand what it is they're asking you for.

Nothing made me feel more like an jerk than when I cut a woman off once who was just wanting directions to a coffee shop. If they do ask you for money and you don't want to give them any, just a smile and "Sorry, I don't have any" will do.

* If you've got a gut feeling something's wrong, go with it.
If someone's getting in your physical space, if you have an uncomfortable feeling something's not right, there's nothing wrong with being abrupt and getting to where you need to go - inside your car, inside your apartment, inside a random bar/shop/restaurant/intersection where there are people and where it's well lit - do it. It's a balance.

* Other unconventional ways of guaranteeing people will give you your space:
Wearing ridiculous hats. Riding a pink bike. Sobbing loudly and uncontrollably while walking down the street in the middle of the night. Singing or dancing down the sidewalk. Not that I would know from experience...

I don't think guns solve any problems. I suppose a whistle or pepper spray or something might be useful, but then I'd have to go and get some and that sounds like work.

******

I made a choice to live in Over-the-Rhine because I wanted to be challenged with humanity, every day. I wanted to be caught up in the exhilaration that comes from being surrounded by people during a street fair or at Findlay Market. I enjoy being greeted every day by Marc Antony, one of the more outgoing homeless residents, or Ed the car washer guy, engaging friends and strangers as I walk or bike down the street.

I didn't want to live in a bubble, by myself, isolated in a non-descript housing complex, hemmed in by development I couldn't get to without driving, intentionally cooping myself up in the American dream. Being around people has its trade offs. I'll take the risk that comes with the overwhelming good, every time.

Intention > Resolution

ohm shanti, ya'll (Yoga Bar)

At the beginning of every yoga class, my instructor asks us to set an intention for our practice. To decide, in that moment, what we want to focus on while we're twisting ourselves into interesting shapes. Intention helps guide and focus the practice, and it brings another element to the table - focusing with the mind makes yoga more than just exercise.

Rather than set a resolution or five that I will inevitably break, I decided to set an intention for 2012.

Discipline.

As in, starting to grow up a little and train myself to go through and do those things that sometimes I don't want to do. Wake up a little earlier. Dress a little nicer. Make my bed. Do those dishes. Answer that email. And so it goes.

Getting in the habit of just pushing through and getting things done will hopefully leave me more time to do things I actually want to do, instead of mucking about and putting off the things I'm dreading.

It's a mindset, I think. We'll see how it goes.

The flipside of the discipline coin is then to discover what it is that I really actually love doing in the free time I have after the other adult stuff is done. I'm a bit of a 'yes girl', and have a habit of over-promising to make people happy. The result is then doing way way way too much and not making myself happy.

I got pretty dang inspired late last year by the Holstee Manifesto. They made this great video (with bikes!!) that sums up my mindset.






Bikes, yoga, laughter, friends, cities, design, travel, love. 

2012 looks to be pretty amazing. What's your intention?

Twinkle Toes, part deux

Back in May I jotted down a few things that make my life a little better - the little things that bring me joy, no matter how trivial or mundane. They lift me up and brighten my spirits... I call them "Twinkle Toes."

This particular week in November is a popular one to publicly give thanks. It's definitely time for TT, part two. I'll go ahead and get the big ones out of the way: family, friends, beau, food, job, place to live. My gratitude for these staples are the drumbeat of my existence, pretty much every day.

Okay? Okay.


Twinkle Toes, Fall Edition:

* two of my old friends from long ago moved to Cincy and are now my new friends again.
* all 22 pairs of different colored tights hanging in my closet mean I hardly ever have to wear pants.
* the misadventures my cats are constantly having in exploring the new apartment.
* did I mention the new apartment? two words: CENTRAL. HEATING.
* Sunday mass at St. Francis Seraph - celebrating Jesus with my neighbors of every background.
* urban campfire nights at my friend's fire pit in Pendleton.
* Instagram 
* Audrey Hepburn - I have something of an obsession...
* watching the Bengals not suck this year.
* fresh picked apples.
* my quest to find the best home-made biscuit in Cincinnati.
* roasted root veggies.
* making friends at work.
* the Broadway Blast exercise class I attend every week - learning dances to show tunes gives me confidence and is so much fun.
* landing my second-ever lead role in a show.
* all the ways that connections happen in Cincinnati - in this little big town it's amazing to hear the stories of how people meet and have known each other through the years. It's even better when two completely different parts of my social circle connect for the first time.
* silly or sweet text messages from loved ones.
* bacon-wrapped date pizza at A Tavola.
* listening to records.
* Tough Love: Miami and The New Girl - my new guilty pleasure Hulu sessions.
* watching through Mad Men and Dr. Who with my guy.
* getting to know my new neighbors in my apartment building and in the area.
* making my 'hood better in tiny, secret ways (if I told you what they were it wouldn't be a secret anymore!)
* spiked hot apple cider and hot chocolate.
* calling my family and catching up with them.

Naturally, I gotta know...

What gives you Twinkle Toes?

Video Roundup

Here's some videos that are inspiring, or hilarious, or ridiculous, or all of the above. I like them, and you like me. You'll like em too!


My cat LadyBird... she's a talker.


short film "Chocolate Bunny" by Lernert & Sander that I saw at OFFFCincy last week. Simultaneously unique and terrifying.


The Marmoset Song. I've listened to this probably 50 times in the last week and a half. Sometimes Constantly I get stuck on silly songs or videos and overdose on them.

City Mouse, Country Mouse

my hump, my hump my hump my hump

I got around to decorating the cast of my backside my friend Kara made as a sample for her senior sculpture project last year. In an effort to make it not so obviously butt-like (if that's even possible) - I got out my magazines (okay, I printed pictures from Flickr) and my Modge Podge and got to decoupaging.

It's representative of my life and personality - half of me is cool and confident in the big* city, the other half of me longs for the quiet and the stars out in the farmland of Indiana, from whence I came. It's been six years since I moved to Cincinnati, but there are parts of me that are still very much Country Mouse.

Naturally there's a lot of text, sayings I find inspiring, and it serves as a reminder of where I've been, where I'm going, and who I am.

Despite its camoflauged appearance, it was still a little disconcerting to have a crowd of people at the housewarming party in September standing around contemplating the art. Apparently there are some puns that were unintentional at the time...

Ah well. Check it out!

*yes, I'm aware that Cincinnati is not really a big city. It's in the top 25 metros... It's all relative.