New Beginnings

Professors always teach you something new, no matter how they present the course material. Some may stand up in front of the classroom and drone on for an hour an a half, causing you to fall into the familiar rhythm of head nodding after fifteen minutes, but then there are those who actually inspire you. They are the ones who are passionate about their subjects, who make you learn in a new way, who remember you and who leave an impression on you long after the class is over. While you may not remember exact answers, dates, or what kind of grade you got, you remember the things you got involved in, the people you shared your stories with, the ones you nudged in class to reminisce about how long it took to finish the assignment.

It's always sad when the last class finally blows in, and you realize that the tight knit circle of people you never knew will soon be unraveled. I'm never sure if I'm sad because it's the end, and endings are always bittersweet, or if maybe for awhile, I was surrounded by the comfort of having someone teach me something new, instead of having to figure it out for myself.

The classes that seem to combine both into one are the ones that are important. I still remember how scared I felt when, in my Intro to News Reporting class, we were assigned to go out and ask people about lowering the drinking age. Until that point, journalism was a curiosity, something I didn't know too much about and I really didn't know how to get information that well. Talking to strangers alone felt terrifying. But eventually, I grew, and I learned that people liked to talk. I had no reason to fear their rejection or their answers.

On the first day of my narrative journalism class, we had to go out and find a story. He didn't tell us specifics, which meant we blindly walked around until something came along. I talked to this girl on line at the SUNY Card office, and she told me a lot about her life in the past six months. I felt this incredible amount of satisfaction, and a bubble of happiness surrounded me in the fact that sometimes I really could do my job.

There are others, such as my Public Affairs journalism class, where I got the chance to shake hands with the mayor, and my Advanced News Writing and Reporting class, where I walked the streets of Albany to talk to different people about Richard Bailey, that also challenged me and forced me to learn. In my media ethics class, the infamous Jayson Blair talked to us about his life since his resignation at the New York Times, and we constantly challenged the rules of the media, wondering where the line was that journalists have to constantly avoid in order to bring true and fair reporting to the forefront.

Next semester, I start my internship at the Legislative Gazette downtown, which means I won't have the luxury of sitting in a classroom here on campus. It's going to be sad, yet a stepping stone for the start of the rest of my life. I'm nervous, yet excited, hopeful to be successful, yet prepared to make mistakes. I don't know what it will be like, but I know that these past five semesters have definitely been amazing. Thanks to everyone who supported me along the way and to all the professors who probably don't remember my name, but led me to an amazing opportunity in my life. It was worth it.

O Christmas, where have you gone to?

What is it about Christmas time that sends shoppers into a panic induced frenzy? I realize how important reduced prices and one of a time offers are, but come on! Do you really need to be shoving people out of the way in order to get that one item off of the shelf?

I spent time with my best friend from home, Carrie, and her mom today before she left for the Thanksgiving break. Her mom had wanted to go shopping, which led us to The Christmas Tree Shoppe, which stocks little knickknacks, ornaments, potpourri, stockings, plates, and other unnecessary holiday items that everyone seems to go nuts over.

I will never understand The Christmas Tree Shoppe (which, granted, sells a lot of their products for low prices) and their way to draw large crowds of older women, moms, and dragged along fathers who get to push the stroller around through the narrow aisles. I couldn't even walk three feet without getting nudged in the side with a shopping cart or backing into a little old lady. I tried to get out of the way, which only put me in another moment of chaos. I clearly remember an old man saying to his wife, "Get what you want now because there is definitely no way we're coming back here."

It wasn't just that one store, either. Afterwards, we headed to the Crossgates Mall, where we were faced with yet another crowd, this one of the younger variety. The thing about the mall though, is that it's bigger than The Christmas Tree Shoppe, and it has many more incentives for customers to buy into. For instance, Santa sits waiting for children to sit in his lap in the middle of the mall. The aroma of pretzels, burgers, and Chinese food wafts from vendors and food courts. The stores have special offers that the people flock to, worse than The Christmas Tree Shoppe. Build A Bear's Workshop has now been transformed into Santa's Workshop. What kind of child can literally walk past that place without being enticed by that?

People wait in lines for this, and it will only get worse next Friday when everyone wakes up extra early to stand in the bitter cold for hours. When has it become necessary for people to wait in lines? Why should anyone who wakes up at eight o'clock instead of four not get the same opportunities for a sale?

Every year it seems, this same argument gets brought up. Why can't people just shop normally, like any other day of the year? This intense competition for some reduced item creates unnecessary (and possibly dangerous) situations. For instance, who can forget about the man who was trampled to death at the Long Island Wal-Mart by consumers who barged into the entrance. Was someone dying really worth that television for 40% off (this is not an actual calculated number, but I work at Justice, where there is constantly something for 40% off)? I think people need to take a real good look at what they're doing. Superficial items might buy your family love for that one day of the year, but the holidays are about more than that. Aren't they?

The Game

I find it strange that exactly one year ago Barack Obama was chosen as our country's newest president, and as of right now (or rather, ten or so minutes ago), the Yankees have just won the World Series. These two aren't comparable at all, but the echoes in the quad are incredibly similar. The girls that screech at the top of their lungs, the mass amounts of voices that are screaming out from different quads, the stomping from three or so floors above. As my roommate Lauren said, "They're screaming more about the Yankees winning than the president winning."

I'm not sure that it's weirder that it has been so long since the day last year when chills literally ran up and down my spine from the news or that I'm pretty sure people screamed for a good twenty minutes before Lauren shut the window tonight.

Are these two events in any way comparable Can you honestly say that the Yankees winning the game is as important as someone winning the top seat in politics? I'm not answering because, honestly, I can't tell you. In my media ethics class, we have been debating (quite rigorously might I add) this very issue. The argument itself has been more so directed towards the ethics involved (like accepting gifts, remaining unbiased, et cetera) but I think one of the core topics we've discussed is what I just said.

There are sports fans who remain extremely dedicated to the craft; there are those who downright spit on professional sports in general; and then there are those like me who really don't care either way. I respect the talent that's involved, but when it comes to salaries, steroid use, and criminal affairs, that respect wavers. The big events are fun to be involved with, but as soon as they're done, I am too, and I go on about my days as normal as they day before.

I don't know what people care about more and I don't know if I ever will, but it was a moment of deja vu that I just couldn't ignore.

The Case of the Missing Scanners

Yesterday, when the clock hit 11:00 pm, I wanted to go down to the vending machines. Sometimes I'll get a little hungry and want to munch on something small before I sleep, but sometimes I'm just plain thirsty. It's quite annoying when you only get to eat in the dining hall twice a day and there aren't any drinks in the room.

However, when I went down last night, I was determined to get a red Powerade. They always seem to hit the right spot whenever I'm dying of thirst. I swiped my card, and then got the message, "Sold Out." Of course I thought. So then I went to the soda machine, because it was my second choice. I'd get a Sprite.

I swiped my card. It read, "Not ready." I'm not really sure what to make of that, honestly. Will it be ready momentarily? Will it take all night? Did I do something wrong? I tried for a Diet Coke instead. Same message.

After I swiped a couple more times, hoping for something new, the girls behind me told me they had been trying also, and the machine didn't work. I was exasperated, but I had a little bit left of the Diet Cherry Dr. Pepper I had bought about three weeks ago left, so I chugged that down when I got back upstairs.

Today, I was hoping that someone came to restock the food and drinks. After all, they usually come in the middle of the week. I wanted a soda this time. I approached the vending machine, ready to swipe. But alas, instead of a card scanner, all that remained were two large holes, the bright white light from inside the machine behind it, glowing. Well, ok, I didn't really want that anyway.

The urge for the Powerade engulfed me once again. I walked the few extra feet, wishing that they weren't sold out. I pressed the button to make sure. They weren't sold out. But then, I tried to swipe my card. This machine had no card scanner either! I had no idea what was going on (I still don't know, to be honest)! Why did they decide to do that? (They being whoever thought this was a good idea. I don't really know who "they" are) Are they going to fix it? Will we never be able to buy drinks again?

I eventually traipsed over to the campus center, where I was able to score a bigger bottle of it instead, because my mouth and throat were dryer than could be. I'm really curious as to why the staff decided to do that. Maybe they need new scanners. Maybe they are putting in new machines. Who knows? All I know is that, while Lauren laughed herself into a tizzy about what had happened to me two nights in a row, I wanted to know some answers, and hopefully they will come soon.

I've Found One

After a year and a half of fruitless searching for minimum wage jobs in Albany, NY, you are finally looking at an employee of Justice, sister store of Limited Too. I was just starting to lose hope when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket.

Who could it be? I thought. It was a random 518 number, which automatically made me think it was a future employer. However, just the day before, I had received a phone call from Peaches Cafe telling me that I was eliminated from the running to the fact I still live on campus.

I picked up my phone, hoping for the best but expecting the worst.

"Is Sarah there?" The voice on the other end asked.

"This is her," I muttered, eagerly anticipating what she said next.

"This is Liz at Justice in Stuyvesant Plaza. We'd like to offer you a job. You still interested?"

At that moment, happiness surged through me, and relief flooded my head.

"Yeah, definitely!" I answered. I almost couldn't believe what I was hearing. I was waiting for a catch, for anything that would prevent me from getting the job, even though I remembered her telling me she was looking for people like me considering she already had people lined up for the holidays.

She then proceeded to tell me my hours for the upcoming week. After the conversation ended, I closed my phone. A thousand watt smile plastered on my face, I screamed to Carrie, who was sleeping in the bed, "I got a job!"

I'm lucky. I feel good, because I can finally afford another trip to California in the winter, and the pressing fear of running out of money has been somewhat lifted. So far, hours haven't been bad either, but then again, I've only worked two days so far.

I know plenty of people applying for jobs and never hearing word again. It's scary really, because not many retail stores are willing to hire students who live on campus. Work study is only available to select students and the bookstore jobs are gone quickly. There is always dining hall services (and the signs are around, believe me. I was tempted to call after I hadn't heard any word from any of the places that interviewed me) though, and I'm always surprised by how many students don't work for them. They will obviously work with flexible schedules and pay isn't that bad. There always seem to be a very high percentage of adult workers compared to the students.

I hope other people have the same kind of luck as I did. It took a long time, but I've finally found something.

Harsh Future

Before college, I never really read too many newspapers, other than The Times Herald Record, which is the local paper from home (Sullivan County), mostly because I didn't always have internet access, and I really never had the urge to.

However, since becoming a journalism major at SUNY Albany, I am much more interested in the news, and papers like The New York Times and U.S.A. Today, and magazines like Newsweek, are now at the top of my list whenever I want to find information out. I even subscribe to the New York Times online, which is somewhat of a rip off to the company, since I read for free. I get daily emails and also news alerts whenever something big happens (like for instance, today, which read:

"After a half-day of animated debate, the Senate Finance Committee on Tuesday rejected efforts by liberal Democrats to add a government-run health insurance plan to major health care legislation, dealing the first official setback to an idea that many Democrats, including President Obama, say they support."

That makes me sad, especially after the event I attended that I spoke about in my last post. People were just so passionate about that issue, and to see it fall through is somewhat depressing.

But I didn't write to talk about that, even though it's obviously something big, and something I care about, because to be honest, real reporters are going to be covering that much more extensively than I am going to be.

I guess I'm really more interested in the fact that I get the New York Times for free each day. At first, maybe it doesn't seem like something interesting, compared to public option being rejected, but to someone like me, who plans on (hopefully) graduating in the spring, it affects me in a really big way.

Newspapers are dying. It's a simple truth that every professor here agrees on. Some of the older ones say journalism itself is dying, but the other ones say that it will never die. The style is transforming, and the way news is gathered and distributed is changing.

So I get The New York Times for free, which means people aren't getting paid. No salary for the writers, for the editors, for the deliverymen, for the ink, for the paper. Only the people who pay for that actually help it, and if someone who has internet gets the choice to choose free news or the actual paper delivered to their doorstep for $7.40 a week, I'm pretty sure they'd choose free.

This isn't new information by any means, but it is the reality, and it is scary. The future of my career field has no security whatsoever at this point, until something is done. There was a really good article written by the editor of The San Jose Mercury News that I read a couple of weeks ago about it, but of course, now I have to pay for it. I wish I could show it to you. (Maybe if my sister reads this, she can put a link up or something. She is the one who showed it to me after all.)

It's a terrifying reality that's hitting me in the face everyday, making me wonder what I'm doing even attempting traveling down this road. Hopefully, something good will happen, and make my worrying go away, but if it doesn't, who knows what will happen?

I know I've been really lazy with my writing in this blog, and as always, I apologize profusely. I never mean to wait this long between posts, because I love writing in it, but with six classes, balancing priorities is becoming quite a task. Just don't give up on me yet. I'm not going anywhere.

Scott Murphy

For one of my journalism classes, I was required to attend a public event, one which, at first, I didn't think I'd be able to find. I am usually horribly bad at deadlines (I always get things done, but I wait a while before I start) but I knew that if I didn't find something by this Thursday, when the assignment is due, it would be incredibly hard to stay ahead, or rather, even stay afloat, in my class.

I had searched and searched thoroughly through the Times Union newspaper and various Albany events sites, coming up with nothing more than art events downtown and sports games. Finally, I emailed my professor, hoping he could help me out, which he did, not directly of course. But he had said to try labor day events, and considering everyone has off today, I figured I'd find some cute little memorial event I could go to. However, that isn't exactly what I found. Scott Murphy is the local Congressman that represents the 20th district in New York, who happened to schedule a meet and greet at the Price Chopper in Clifton Park. At first I had been mildly excited about it. I had never met a Congressman before, and it would give me an opportunity to see firsthand what a politician promised.

That was before I found several blogs about how many people were against what he promised (especially regarding healthcare). There were so many people who wrote about how they were planning to protest. Immediately, I realized this public event I was supposed to cover was going to be completely different than I had first imagined.

Media coverage was also going to be there, which slightly intimidated me, I have to be honest, but it's something I'm going to have to deal with soon considering this is the field I really am interested in following. I needed to do research, and fast, because if I had no idea what was going on, there was no way I could construct enough questions to ask.

I did, and this morning I arrived fully prepared to do what I had to. That is, until I saw the people with the signs. It's not like I didn't expect the signs. After all, what's a protest without the signs? (By the way, they weren't all protesting the cause. Some of the signs were for support) Then a man started yelling about how we need public option, which I think is a good idea honestly. After his rant, the other side decided to contribute also. I had never been more afraid to approach someone than at this moment. What if he started asking me about what I believed? I can't really tell him how I feel, though, if I want an interview, so would he be willing to say anything?

Eventually Scott Murphy walked up, shaking hands with his constituents. As loud as some people screamed, it was evident how many people were there to hear what he had to say. Some people had very genuine concerns, especially the older people who were starting to believe the rumors about death panels (which Murphy adamantly denied), or those who wanted to know if they'd lose health insurance all together. There were snickers amongst those present whenever someone of the opposite party asked him a question, which made me feel tense at times. Over all though, it was exciting to be part of such a debate. I became so much more interested in politics during the morning, especially about healthcare. I think if a Congressman of yours ever comes to speak at a town near you, you should definitely go and listen, because it is after all, our future that will be changed.

The above picture was taken from Google of Congressman Murphy. Stupid me forgot to bring a camera.

It's the End of the Summer As We Know It

In exactly one week, I will be writing from this computer sitting atop of my UAlbany dorm bed, and you have no idea how excited I am. I love the summer, I really do. I get to see my friends from home (rather, friend, since many of my high school friends have drifted away), hang out with my family, and eat very good food (I never minded the dining hall as much as my friends from school, but honestly, a home cooked meal always seems to taste better), but it also means the familiarity of what life was like before college.

It's not bad, but it always makes me feel like I'm living in the summer after senior year all over again, even though I know what to expect. I'm anxious to return, even though I have an 18 credit workload this upcoming semester, and I'm probably going to drive myself nuts. But I love being around people my age, who are doing the same thing I'm doing, and who are facing the same problems as I'm facing. We seem to be going to college in an incredibly hard time, and I really hope that I get an internship in the fall. I'm crossing my fingers that it might boost up my resume a little bit, because in all honesty, I'm scared of the day after I graduate.

Anyway, I just wanted to say that when I get back to school, I will have access to the internet more, and I know I usually promise that I'll write more, but I always fail to follow through. So let's hope I'll try harder and write more.

Williamsburg

One of my favorite places to visit is Williamsburg, Virginia, known for its vast history and tourist attractions. It hasn't ever seemed like one of those tacky tourist towns, even though, technically, it is one. Sure, there are the occasional souvenir shops, trying to make their money by making cheap replicas of old artifacts and selling them at ridiculously high prices (like for instance, this bell I rang in the store, which came to $89.95), but there is a particular charm about the place that really can't be ignored.

First off, if anyone ever decides to vacation in Williamsburg, they have to,

without a doubt, check out the historic section, because while Busch Gardens may be fun, there's nothing like walking down a street, listening to the fifes and feeling like you're back at the start of our country. I've been there at least two or three times already in my life, and I still love going back.

The houses are quaint, the gardens are exquisite, and the whole setup reminds me how good we have life today. The heat was unbearably stifling ( literally, every time I walked out of the air conditioned buildings, it was like I ran into a wall of warmth), and by the time the day ended, my feet were killing me from my stupid decision to wear flip flops (I was wearing a skirt though! I can't wear my sneakers with a skirt!). It was still totally worth it. I even managed to take pictures today, which means I can share them, for the first time ever. I hope everyone is excited about this as I am. I hope you like them.

To explain this as best as I can:

Picture #1 is the green in front of the governor's mansion.

Picture #2 is the armory.

Picture #3 is a post to tie up horses. (I think anyway. It just looked cool.)

Picture #4 is one of the houses along the main street you walk down.

Picture #5 is a lamp post in front of another building.

Picture #6 is a little shop that you can actually buy things from.

Picture #7 is the capital building.

Picture #8 is a staircase I discovered while finding my way through the maze behind the governor's mansion.

Picture #9 is the garden directly behind the mansion.

Picture #10 is the mansion yet again, but from a better point of view.

John Hughes, 59

When I opened up the newspaper yesterday, I didn't intend on reading anything over the top. There were the familiar tidbits of information about car wrecks (which are really common during the summer time), the economy, and lawmakers. Of course, every day since it's happened, some long article about the Diane Schuler accident on the Taconic Parkway shows up about three pages in, and even though I know I should read it, it practically breaks my heart every time I try. Tragedy is one thing, but when it involves innocent children, it becomes something so much more. After I turned the page, briefly skimming what that article was about, I read the small and insignificant celebrity columns. I always read them (I have to admit, I used to be wildly obsessed with the Perez Hilton website), even if they have no impact whatsoever on my life, because there is always something scandalous/interesting/et cetera happening with their lavish lives. But when I dove in, ready to digest some fluff, I realized that I was gulping down an obituary. John Hughes, iconic director of Breakfast Club, Pretty in Pink, Sixteen Candles, and so much more, died at the age of 59. My heart plummeted.

I have an immense admiration for the films mentioned above; they are, after all, some of my favorites. I have seen Pretty in Pink at least five times already, and yet, it still never gets

old. Molly Ringwald, while I never thought her amazingly pretty, always lit up the screen, and the actors who got to play along with her were unforgettable.

Who can forget Jon Cryer's Duckie? He was the biggest nerd with the weirdest fashion sense (or was it just me looking back at the clothes of the 80s that made it so horrible). How about Anthony Michael Hall as The Geek in Sixteen Candles?

These characters are one of a kind, as well as the movies. Still, 20 or so years after they first debuted in theaters, they manage to have an enormous effect on pop culture.

Goodbye John Hughes, you will be sadly missed.

Windmills

It seems like forever since I've written on this last, but after a whirlwind of slow internet connections (or sometimes even NO internet connections) and trips, I have finally gotten the chance to write yet again, and this time I'm heading back to one of my favorite topics, energy saving! But this time, it might even be interesting.

As I sat in the car that took me five hours away from home to Buffalo, NY, I noticed something really cool moving in the mountains about a mile away...windmills. I know some people are used to seeing windmills but to me, they are a foreign delight. They were like white towers in the distance, spinning in the wind (sometimes they didn't move though, which I don't understand). Not only are they a staple of visual pleasure, they also convert wind into electricity, rather than miles and miles of power lines stretching across the land.

When you get to a certain area near Arcade, NY, when the road dips down into a more valley-ish landscape, the mountains are littered with hundreds of these things. Not only can you not ignore them, you can't pass them by without falling into awe.

They are bigger than I had ever thought they could be, which makes sense, given how much they do. I literally took out my sister's camera and recorded the drive (which I'm not going to show...because I sound like an idiot and I didn't really possess the greatest of skills in holding it). I remember sharing my fascination with my family (who I was actually supposed to be visiting, not the windmills) and listening to what they had to say too.

My mother's aunt shared how she thought they were pieces of art that really could be a tourist attraction. She was totally right! They were pieces of art, because no matter how many times I saw them twirl outside my window, I had to see more. I just wanted to lay underneath them and hear and feel the magnificence of their duties. I'm not exactly sure how low they get to the ground however, which could impose a problem.

So maybe they aren't the most exciting things ever, and perhaps they may be used in a lot of places all over the world, but honestly, if you haven't seen them yet, go. It's pretty awesome.

The Concert of the Summer

There's nothing quite like seeing a favorite band live, especially when you've memorized their songs from the luxury of an iPod, never really knowing who was in the band. Last Sunday, after months of wishing I could go to a Fountains of Wayne concert in Woodstock, NY, but knowing I couldn't go, a breeze of luck passed through, making it so that the plans my mother had originally planned for the afternoon got cancelled, which gave me the chance to go.

While I wasn't too keen on the idea of my mother joining me, she was the only ride I had, and it was music I knew she wouldn't hate. The ride there was excruciatingly long, as my heart beat for the music I was about to hear. We pulled up, after riding over a scenic mountain, to an amazing group of wooden buildings. Two were restaurants, and one was a concert hall. The grounds surrounding the buildings were beautiful too, with a small fountain (granted, it wasn't working, but it was still really pretty!), benches around a tall mossy tree, and a seating area up front with a huge brown bear you could take a picture with.

I was honestly surprised by how few people were there, considering Fountains of Wayne, best known for Stacy's Mom (which is definitely good, but I have more favorites than that one song), the song that is on everyone's iPods, isn't that unknown of a band. Sure, maybe they do only know that one song, but isn't that what usually prompts them to listen to some more? A major hit that sparks their curiosity?

The doors opened at 8pm and I made my way into the medium sized space, taking in the polished wooden floor, high ceilings, and a really great atmosphere. An older crowd settled in on the upstairs balcony, complete with chairs (which I really don't understand. I love the feeling of getting swept up in the standing audience. I'm not sure everyone feels the same way though).

The opening singer was Mike Viola, whose raspy voice was enchanting. The woman who sang with him Kelly Jones, also was very good. Their voices together created a very rare harmony, and when he decided to sing without microphones, it was possibly one of the most beautiful acoustic pieces I have ever heard.

When Fountains of Wayne finally came onstage, I was in the center of the floor close to the front, which gave me an amazing view (because of course, everyone always wants to look at them). When the lead singer, Adam Schlesinger, first opened his mouth to sing, I knew it was going to be a good show. Not only did they sound amazing, it was even better than what I had heard through the speakers of my headphones. They performed Please Don't Rock Me Tonight, which is one of my favorite songs. I love when that happens (like when I first saw another one of my favorite songwriters Ben Lee for the first time. He played Nothing Much Happens, which is the song that made me really interested in his work. I was ecstatic for days). The whole time, as I sang along to the words I knew, and kind of made up words that I should have known but didn't (like during songs where I knew the first verse and chorus VERY well, I didn't know the second...), I was in an elated state, which I hadn't felt since I saw Phantom Planet last year. They were very low key funny guys too, which always makes it that much better. After the show ended, for about five minutes, all you could hear was the shouting of the crowd, roaring to have them come back again. It reminded me of what Ben Lee said back in 2004 at the Knitting Factory. "Never ever believe a rock band when they tell you they're finished. They always come back." And of course, they played the favorites, the ones I could actually sing along to.

I still am wearing the entry bracelet, and I have no intention of taking it off until it falls off.

Hello Again.

Oh internet, how I have missed you so...

It's a strange sensation, the one you get when you aren't constantly connected to the internet 24/7 after being that way for about two years.  I've read tons of articles talking about how great it is and how relieved people feel, being away from the stress and tension from needing the web so much.  You feel more connected to the world around you, rather than the virtual one that is put in front of you.  But honestly, in this day and age, it seems so impossible not to be on the internet all the time, especially for people my age.

My college constantly emails us students information we may or may not need, information about the school, stuff like move in day details (which I won't need yet, thank God.  I'm pretty sure move in day is my least favorite day ever.  It's so stressful.) I also receive updates daily from several different websites, including but not limited to, Den of Geek, which is so fun to read, Meg Cabot, The New York Times, Twitter, and so on and so forth.  What about friends that I can't text or call because they're so busy or they only receive a certain amount of minutes on their phone?  Please tell me how I am supposed to keep in contact with these people.  

I know up front, it seems like a very weak argument, but once you get addicted to something, you start to get withdrawals.  Like caffeine, for instance.  I remember last year, when my sister was still breast feeding and I visited her for a week or two, her diet absolutely restricted caffeine.  When I didn't have it, I started getting insanely intense headaches that wouldn't go away.  At first, I thought it was just from lack of sleep, which made sense, because being at college has taught me not to go to sleep before 12:30 (which is really late for my sister's family, and my niece likes to wake up really early.)  But then, after it persisted for days on end, my sister finally explained to me that it was probably due to the lack of caffeine.  I took one cup of tea, and after that, it was perfectly fine!  Why had I ever stopped ingesting that stuff?  Who cares that it's probably one of the worst things to be addicted to (rather than, you know, smoking...or anything like that)?  I needed it, or else these awful headaches would come back.

That's how my lack of internet connection has felt these past couple of weeks, when my neighbor's signal suddenly went dead (I know, technically, I was stealing, but really, it never cost them anything extra!) and I had to bare days on end without knowing every single detail that happened online.  I'd feel anxious, and left out, because while my friends kept telling me things that had happened, I couldn't know, because I had no resource to turn to.  When I finally got it back, it was like a breath of fresh air had been blowing from the door.  I felt calm and happy, and for a moment, I was caught up in the frenzy.  Every Sunday, however, I have to return to a life of normalcy, where the highlight of my day consists of visiting my friend Carrie and watching Ghost Hunters for hours on end (which is a REALLY good show, so anyone who reads should watch Wednesday nights 7pm until 12am).  

So until two weeks from now (and possibly longer), goodbye, and I'm sorry for not updating until now.  

Up and Away!

Ever since I saw the teaser trailer last year for Up, I have been counting down the days until I could finally see the latest Pixar film up there on the small screen.  And while nothing really was given away from that trailer, given the history of past Pixar movies, I still wanted to pay the ridiculously high price of a movie ticket to watch it.  After the (painstakingly) long wait, I joyfully sat down in the gross, darkened theater with the biggest smile on my face today.  I didn't care at all that there were going to be young children possibly screaming, crying, or carrying on, or that the theater wasn't brand new and comfy.  I just really needed to see this movie.

Up definitely delivered, and after reading so many positive reviews from the Cannes film festival, I didn't doubt it.  The emotional impact from the beginning sequence of events, in which we see the life of young Carl Fredricksen and his dreams (this part is actually my favorite.  I loved the procession of years set alongside the piano accompaniment.  I remember reading somewhere about how much it was like old silent films, and it really was!) , carries through the entire film. The story of a grumpy old man flying his house with balloons alone seemed interesting, but after seeing how and why this guy did it, you really begin to understand.  Even the addition of the annoying boy scout (who you do actually like) makes this story one of a kind.  

After the old man's wife passes away, his one mission in life is to save his house.  For some time, contractors and developers have been trying to level it.  After being sent to court, where it has been determined he will stay in a retirement community, he brilliantly comes up with the idea of helium balloons.  It seems like a flight of ease and comfort, him and his memories flying toward the one place he always dreamed of, until the knock on the door is heard.  After that, his journey with the young boy begins.  

I don't want to give any more plot away than that, considering I actually want people to go see it.  It's amazing, really, how one can get so swept up in an animated movie.  There's lots of humor too, which definitely makes the kids happy, as was evident in the small company of munchkins who watched in front of me.  That's one thing I've always loved about Pixar movies.  They have this ability to attract both children and adults, pleasing everyone.  In case you haven't seen it already, definitely go.  Plop down your money for this one, because it's probably one of the best computer animated films I've ever seen.  The wait was definitely worth it.

Seasonal Rant

I've taken time out of my incredibly busy schedule (please note the sarcasm there) to address an issue that I think people really need to hear about.  It's been one that has been in our lives for years, and it's about time we really start rallying against this insane phenomenon: season finales. I know you aren't going to understand at first, but here goes.  Why is it that every single show that happens to be broadcast leaves their most exciting, over the top, extremist situations until the very end?  I understand the need to get us viewers enticed for the next season, but come on now, do these writers really need to infuriate us? 

For instance, today I happened to finally watch the season finale of Ugly Betty.  I was really excited too, because instead of one measly hour long episode, there were two.  Two! When there's too, really, anything could happen.  Whatever you see in the first one is totally up in the air when it comes to the second one.  It leaves me sitting on the edge of my seat, biting my nails, and possibly grabbing at my hair until the end, and boy, that's where they get you.

Betty finally manages to grab an editor position (and really, I'm not giving anything away here.  I'm sure anyone can find this information out on other websites), loses it, and then gets another one, completely happy and carefree, but, then stupid ex-boyfriend Henry gets thrown into the mix.  I hate stupid ex-boyfriend Henry.  He always comes in to ruin things right when I'm happy just enjoying what she has already.  Like last year for instance, when she was really happy with Gio and he offered her a trip to Rome (honestly, what girl gives up a chance to go to Rome???), stupid ex-boyfriend Henry decides to come back!  And guess what happened??  She didn't choose either one of them! She did, however, manage to finally grow up and live on her own, though, but still, why did he have to come in and ruin things?

This year, Betty had this really cool boyfriend, Matt, who was really nice and did all this cool stuff for her.  It was going fine too!  Then, for this finale, they broke up!  Why?!  Please tell me why, ABC executives, writers, and producers! (Another major character's wife died, too) I hate this constant up and down emotional roller coaster ride that all these shows force you to go on.  It's not just Ugly Betty either, because I've heard other stories.

I used to religiously watch One Tree Hill, too, but then, after countless seasons repeating the same storyline down my throat, I gave up on it.  It was way too much of a hassle dealing with all the drama, the babies, the hookups, the breakups, so on and so forth.  I thought to myself, If I'm going to watch something this long, I really just need to enjoy every episode. I love shows where you can watch one episode and be very much entertained, like sitcoms.  That's the beauty of a sitcom, too.  They're funny and you don't have to know what happens every. single. moment of the show (yes, those extra periods were necessary).  Apparently, in the season finale, lots of tears are shed, and one of the main characters is possibly going to die (actually, she will die, because it has been reported that both Hilarie Burton and Chad Michael Murray are leaving the show, which I don't understand at all, because the show used to revolve completely around Chad Michael Murray's character).  Why does everyone die at the finale?! 

Grey's Anatomy had its fair share of disturbing shortcomings for its characters too.  Goodbye Izzie and George, both of whom are major components of the script (just so Katherine Heigl and T.R. Knight can get out of their contracts).

I know this sounds like a rant, and pretty much, it is.  It just infuriates me to no end how much stuff shows manage to pack in to one final hour of the season.  Does this much drama actually happen in real life?  No, no it doesn't.

Look how cute they are!  See, it's perfect!

But, oh, look, stupid ex-boyfriend Henry has to come back!  Don't be fooled by his geeky glasses and smile, he's actually evil!

 George: I think I'm going to die.

Izzie: You, too?

Expect something in the upcoming weeks about Up!  You have no idea how excited I am about that movie. 

Show Time

When riding down the main street of South Fallsburg, NY, one of the first things easily noticed is the old Rivoli theater, a building that seems run down, abandoned, and lonely.  The only way of telling that it’s still in business is the change of signs that occurs every two weeks or so, and even then, it doesn’t give much promise of anything spectacular.

            The rest of the town does not help, either, full of bad drivers, homeless walkers, and used car dealers.  However, when the night swings in, and the lights turn on, the Rivoli Theater comes alive. 

            When I was first dragged feet first to see a rendition of Fiddler on the Roof last year, I didn’t expect much.  The theater had looked gross from the outside and the people who shuffled along outside scared me.  However, when the lights dimmed, I was stunned from start to finish.

            The actors did splendid work, even though they were a small local group, and it was very obvious they took their passion to a professional level.  I especially loved the lead actor of the play, whom I mentioned last year after I had seen it.  I managed to see Dial M for Murder also, a few weeks afterwards, which also was really quite entertaining to watch. 

            Sure, a lot of the time, small parts are filled by first timers, but as the cliché goes: In theater there are no small parts, just small actors. A lot of the same actors are recycled through different productions, but seeing a familiar face is never a bad thing.

            The reason I bring this theater up had to do with my viewing of Arsenic and Old Lace, a play I had heard of, but wasn’t familiar with.  At first, I was skeptic of how well it would be played out.  The actresses who play the lead old ladies of the house spoke almost too quietly for the audience to hear, lines were forgotten, and parts of the set fell down.

            It eventually got going, though, and was definitely a production that both entertained me and made me laugh.  The man who played Jonathan, the crazy brother who hadn’t been around in 20 years stole almost every scene, with his twitchy facial expressions and his ability to go from sane to manic in an instant.  He played the part of the villain exceptionally well. 

            I’ve learned something from going to these plays.  You really can’t judge something by it’s façade, and even though that’s something that’s been drilled into kids’ heads ever since they were young, it’s something that needs to be experienced.  

Hello. Goodbye.

Another year has come and gone in the life of this UAlbany student, and it's making me feel crazy knowing that I only have one more year left.  Already, half of my college career is gone, and I've made amazing friends, experience insane random incidents, and seen things that I never will be able to again.  Friends are starting to leave (ahem, Danielle and Aaron), which means next year will be one heck of a ride, trying to make new friends, learning new material (this one being a biggie considering I'm taking six classes next semester and possibly getting an internship in the spring), and everything else that comes along with doing things for the first time without a set of training wheels.  

As for now, I know I haven't been great at updating this, mostly because of my bad habit of procrastinating for most of my classes.  I managed to pull out two eight page papers in two nights, both of which didn't require me to stay up until the sun rose.  I remember the feeling of about two tons of bricks being lifted from my shoulders after those were completed.  Of course I knew about a month ahead of time when those papers were due, but being the lazy college student that I am, I waited until the weekend before.  You've got to love those moments in life.  Where else can you fully appreciate  your work until you get it done at the last possible moment?

Also, I guess, I was actually out doing things for a change.  Believe me, it was a shocker.  The fact that I managed to do fun things outside of my room was a huge difference, but whatever, I'm a new person now, if you want to call it that.  I saw Dane Cook perform live on a stage.  I stumbled through an intense crowd of drunken college students all huddled in a giant fountain.  I smelled dozens of tulips and greasy food as I walked through Tulip Fest in Washington Park.  It was an amazing spring semester and I'm going to miss it.  

Goodbye Albany amazingness.  Hello dull, three month long summer.

Fountain Day madness

There is one day a year where shoving your way through crowds in a three foot pool of water is considered normal, and that day is Fountain Day at UAlbany.  It's probably one of the most craziest scenes I've ever had to witness, especially since most of the kids are either tipsy or drunk, and the goal is to get closer to the center, where the water pressure is higher and the water is slightly deeper.  

I can't tell you how many people I had to be squeezed against as I attempted to get in the middle.  Flip flops were thrown at my head, beach balls seemed to be flying from unknown places, and tons of people shouted the famous UAlbany chant in my ears (UA! Uknow!  I know, not the most clever of chants, but whatever, that's what it is).  It was insane, and I loved it.  

Before hand, free food was available, which my friends and I totally took advantage of after standing on line for an hour (only the first 5,000 there got free T-shirts) first, and cool activities were set up everywhere.  There was the mechanical bull, which, oddly, not that many people were interested in, the "boxing" ring where anyone could equip themselves with oversized gear, scavenger hunts (which we, stupidly, became a part of.  I ended up falling and scraping my foot and leg.  We actually lost, too), photo booths, caricature stands, and the Vitamin water tent.  

My friends from home always tell me about what their school does similarly to Fountain Day, but honestly, I don't think it could match this day at all.  Where else can you possibly enjoy a fountain this much?

I wish I had photos to display, but considering I was drenched in water for an hour and a half, I didn't think bringing my camera was such a good idea.  Not to mention, holding on to my shoes alone was a big task.

Green Fast Food

I know I've been somewhat failing on the whole "updating my blog" thing, but it has been increasingly hard to balance the little social life I have, schoolwork, and anything else that seems to be thrown at me hard.  But, I am going to try maybe a little bit more, even though I've been saying that for quite a while now.  I do love writing in this, and it should be more of a priority, but sometimes I feel that the world wide web isn't really that interested in what I say (those of you who read this, namely my sister, I apologize) and that writing about dull, mundane stories of my day really isn't something to frequently update.  

However, there is a pressing matter I really need to discuss.  How many times have you walked into a fast food restaurant, bought your food, sat down, eaten your food,  and then quickly thrown out your garbage without even thinking, just to continue on your day?  This is a normal recurrence I do have to say, but today, as I was sipping my bottled water, staring at the odd people walking in and out, it hit me.  There aren't any recycling bins!

Now I know, for the most part, nothing recyclable is served at restaurants.  However, how many restaurants are now opting to sell you bottled waters instead of what is on tap?  Answer: a lot of them.  McDonald's has the option, Burger King has that option, and now, even Wendy's is telling you to buy it.  Why aren't there other ways of throwing out your garbage?

I had such a complex throwing my empty plastic water bottle into the can, joining the mass amount of greasy papers and stained plastic-ware, because I knew that that bottle could actually have been thrown into a plastic recycling bin, no where to be found in the vicinity.

I have to be honest in saying that, with today's society constantly throwing green etiquette down our throats (which I am not disagreeing with in any way.  I actually love how much companies and such are trying to show us the right way to treat our planet), one of the first places it should have hit were fast food restaurants.  They are one of the most universal joints, not only in our country, but in the entire world.   You can go pretty much anywhere to get your Big Mac or Frosty fix.  

I'm just saying, if we care so much about how our environment is being treated, it should probably take effect everywhere.

Jim Norton

Today was a very very good day, at least in my world here in Albany, NY (aside from the fact that I'm starting to get a cold, which I am proud to say I haven't gotten since January.  Now the only problem is getting rid of it). 

It was sunny, blue skies were all around me with the slightest wisps of clouds, and I could even tolerate the wind today.  Class went a lot quicker than I had planned, and for my Russian film class, I managed to put quite a bit of input into the discussion (nothing to do with the fact that at the time, there were only three other people in the room and my professor was urging me to go on the entire time).  

Dinner was absolutely amazing, too.  Italian night always is, with their special foods they only let us taste every once in a blue moon.  I had a mushroom calzone finished off with tiramisu (I don't care about what Lauren and Danielle say. I think it's amazing even if it's not authentic).

But dinner is not what made my day so good.  Neither is the weather or the class situations.  It mostly revolves around my night, which was spent in the Ballroom of the Campus Center of the SUNY Albany campus.

My friend Lauren had been telling us all about this amazing comedian named Jim Norton, and I, not knowing who in the world he was, kept blowing it off, because stand up comedy has never been a strong interest of mine.  After a lot of convincing, I finally headed over to the Copies Plus center to buy my ticket, and even then, it still wasn't this thing I was excited about. 

I wasn't really excited about it really, until today, because we usually have nothing to do on Thursday nights, and I'm always up for discovering new things, especially big acts that the college brings to us (last year, they brought Sue Johanson, the infamous host of "Talk Sex with Sue Johanson" and we literally were put into another room because of the crowd that had come) and with the disappointment of Parkfest (at least for my friends and I) coming up, it couldn't really be any worse.  

When I got there, a fairly large crowd was lurking in the stairwell and on the ground floor, managing to outrun the humongous amount of people who were coming in behind me (how I did it, I will never know).  We even got second row seats, which has never happened to us before.   Everything else we've seen has been from the back of the room practically.  A photographer came by to take our picture, mostly because Danielle had seen him and screamed, "Us next!", but he was taking pictures of everyone in the front anyway, so maybe in the upcoming days, you can see us on the Times Union website.  

The first act, Erick James, was really funny.  He instantly tuned in with everyone and made the entire room shake with laughter.  I felt kind of bad when he announced Jim Norton and the entire room clapped and yelled, because he really did not get that kind of attention when he first walked on stage. 

But I have to say, Jim Norton was definitely amazing.  He has this weird twitch in his eye, that you can notice as soon as you see his face, and he walks kind of funny.  But, he uses that to his advantage and when he makes certain expressions, it's priceless.  I

 personally loved when he talked about the tiger at the San Francisco zoo.  I guess it appealed to me because I've been there, and I've actually seen the other tigers there (and the huge gap

 that the tiger jumped over, which is SO big.  It's crazy to think that something jumped across it) and I hate the fact that stupid kids ended up making it happen.  I know I should value human lives more than tiger lives,

 but I'm pretty sure that tiger was on an endangered species list, and having it killed bothered me a lot.

Anyway, I could go on and on about the jokes he told and the reactions he got, but in all reality, it's hard to capture the magic that was on that stage tonight.

  (Jim Norton is the one sitting, Erick James is up above, just the headshot)