bird by bird

When I was babysitting the week before Thanksgiving, I made a list with a 5-year-old about the things she's thankful for this year. The first thing she thought of was "dinosaurs." Me: Do you mean dinosaur toys? Her: I don't have any dinosaur toys. Me: Do you mean you're thankful for dinosaur books or movies? Her: I don't have any dinosaur books or movies. Me: Do you mean your thankful for learning about dinosaurs? Her: I actually don't know anything about dinosaurs! I'm just thankful that I want to learn about them. Me: Well.. ok then. Maybe I should have started this conversation with a brief explanation of the word "thankful." Or maybe this kid is just really appreciative of her inquisitive nature and the availability of free education in our country..? I said, "I guess I can be thankful for dinosaurs, too."

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I like heavy blankets. They make me feel protected and small, but small in a good way. I would love a blanket made of those lead x-ray vests sewn together weighing on me and keeping me still. This is an odd thing for me to love. In almost every other area of my life, I like space, I like open air, and I like freedom to move. But at night when it's dark and cold, and I'm alone, I want thick, constricting coverage on my body while I sleep. The heavier, the better. This makes summertime a real bitch.

Source: google.com via Amanda on Pinterest If you haven't noticed by now, I'm approximately 6 months behind every popular book, TV series, artist, film, etc. I have always been this way, and moving to New York City has not changed my 'tardiness to the game.' Nevertheless, I just finished this book "Gone Girl," and like all those hundres of thousands of people and critics that read it first, I have to agree that it was pretty freaking good. Here's one part I liked:  "So I know I am right not to settle, but it doesn’t make me feel better as my friends pair off and I stay home on Friday night with a bottle of wine and make myself an extravagant meal and tell myself, This is perfect , as if I’m the one dating me. As I go to endless rounds of parties and bar nights, perfumed and sprayed and hopeful, rotating myself around the room like some dubious dessert. I go on dates with men who are nice and good-looking and smart – perfect-on-paper

I am currently sitting in the Denver Airport eating a grossly overpriced turkey sandwich trying to get my thoughts together enough to compose a semi-coherent blog post. Or even a non-coherent blog post. Really, I'm just forcing myself to write. I've been so bad about blogging lately, and it really bums me out. My story (life in NYC) is finally really starting to get good! This is the part that I really need to concentrate on! So here I gooo........ First, let me tell you more about my job. I work as a Physician Office Assistant (POA) in the Gastroenterology Service at a cancer hospital in the city. Even though I have ZERO experience in Medicine (barely got a B in Bio 101 nine years ago), somehow I actually really, really love my job. It's the craziest thing! I had no experience or education or even desire to work in healthcare two months ago, and now I go to work at a hospital every day, and I know all about colonoscopies and radiology reports, and I love it so much. Th

I'm here! I'm alive! I haven't vanished into the cold, hard streets of New York City and joined a gang/cult/food coop! (although, I am getting dangerously close to joining that last thing..). But man, life has been crazy, I mean CRAZY, these last couple of months. The more that has happened, the more I've wanted to write, but the less time I've had to actually do it! And now I don't even know where to begin. HUmph. I guess this is where this blog really comes full circle. Bird by bird, I just need to force myself to sit down and type-vomit out everything that's going on. I'll try to sort it all out later, but for now I'll take EH's last advice to me when she left NYC and me, standing by our red Harlem gate, "At least take notes." So here you are, some notes. The other day I met my Theta godmother (the one who gets me great interviews and keeps my spirits up in a vocational kind of way) for dinner in Soho. Because I had a few hours to

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I had a dream during the hurricane that I was at home in South Dakota, but I needed to catch a bus to get back to NYC. Transportation was a mess (surely the influence of real life hurricane subway issues), but I knew I needed to get to my bus by a certain time. My mom wasn't being sensitive of the strict bus schedule, and we quickly became frustrated with each other. I had to go! Then my Grandpa Don rolled up in his teal colored golf cart and he said, "Fritz, I want to show you something." We drove into the hay field behind his barn and looked out over the pastoral scene. It began to get dark. I started to get sentimental about having to leave this natural and open environment where my roots are. Then... I don't really know how to explain it, but my grandpa did a trick or a spell or something wizard-y and dream-like and all of a sudden, on top of the rolling Dakota hills, the lights of the New York City skyline started to light up. Lights swept across the sky like a

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What I'm thankful for: a whole slew of friends, near and far, old and new who, despite all reasoning, like me and continue to stick around warm oatmeal on cold mornings that guy at Mr. Melon who gives me extra green juice when he makes too much when people give up their subway seats for people who need them more proving that the world actually hasn't all gone to shit concealer (seriously.) when things don't look like they're going to work out, but then they do the way that my mom and sister let me boss them around  clearance sales the feeling I get when I finally complete some stupid miniscule errand Downton Abbey my patient co-workers, trainers, and mentors who answer all of my dumb questions (because some questions really are dumb) when I find the exact word I'm looking to use feeling taken care of  dodging bullets (of both literal and figurative variety) that I live in an apartment and neighborhood that is filled with people I love HEALTH INSURAN

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Today I told the little girl that I was babysitting that I was from South Dakota, but now I live in Brooklyn, like her. She asked, "Where will you go next?" I said, "That's a very good question. Where do you think I should go next?" "Africa," she responded immediately, "so you can see some giraffes and come back tell me about them." I told her that I'd try. At least someone has a game plan for my life.

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1. Hurricane Drunk- Florence + The Machine 2. Shelter From the Storm- Bob Dylan 3. Set Fire to the Rain- Adele 4. Bridge Over Troubled Water- Simon and Garfunkel 5. Candle in the Wind- Elton John 6. Like a Hurricane- Neil Young & Crazy Horse 7. Billie Holiday- Stormy Weather 8. After the Storm- Mumford and Sons 9. Great Rain- John Prine 10. Like a Hurricane- Dave Matthews Band Cover  (I saw this live the night before Hurricane Irene hit last August)

So.. about the hurricane. Via some facebook buzz, I'm feeling a lot of pressure to really deliver on this blog post! Like, a lot of pressure. I must warn you, then, that although a lot of people were really affected by the dangerous storm, I wasn't really. Homes were destroyed and people were killed and let there be no mistake, Hurricane Sandy left a lot of heartbreak and devastation in her path. There's a telethon on NBC right now that you should watch if you want to see tragic footage of the damages that Sandy caused. But.. if you want to read about my 5-day gluttonous and anti-climatic hurrication, then read on! When I learned of the severity of the approaching storm, it was Sunday, the day after my roommates and I threw a Halloween party. I was generally unconcerned about the whole thing. Last year around this time, we had hurricane Irene and all it really did to NYC was rain a lot and postpone a music festival that I had tickets to. Irene was like the storm that crie

I don't know what is a better feeling: finally getting a job or having 137 people on Facebook "like" that you finally got a job. Talk about feeling loved!! I needed that. I really, really did.

THESE LAST FEW WEEKS HAVE BEEN BANANAS!! Like Curious-George-meets-Gwen-Stefani-meets-Chiquita-girl bananas! I've been feeling overwhelmed with blogging about it all.. so this summary will have to do. This is what I've been doing on my weekends, lately. September 22-23 There are two types of people in this world: people who like going to Renaissance Faires and people who do not. You can guess which type I am... I eat that stuff up! Though a disappointingly large percentage of my friend group does not appreciate the turkey-leg-eating, costume-wearing, old-English-speaking splendor that is a Renaissance festival, I do, and so do KS and my roommates, LC and JT. We enthusiastically woke up early on a Sunday morning to take a bus to Tuxedo Park, NY for the last weekend of the Faire. It. Was. A. Hoot. We drank beers and watched a jousting finale and mocked people in unauthentic costumes. (Fairy wings? I don't think so..) The whole day was so fun and entertaining and incredib

"We accept the love we think we deserve."

My grandparents' home and farm flooded a few years ago. It didn't just flood; it permanently became a part of Bitter Lake. The lawn I grew up mowing and the trees I grew up climbing became swampy homes to catfish and beavers and seagulls. The basement with the cold cement floors and ziggy wallpaper and exercise equipment has been gone for years, filled with gravel in an attempt to stop the water and stop the mold. But in the end, no matter how many truck loads of rock and bags of sand that we hauled in as a barricade between the roots of our family farm and the unyielding plans of mother nature, my Grandpa Don and my Grandma Sharon had to move. One Easter weekend, kids and cousins and grandkids carried boxed memories carefully over a wooden plank with water on both sides from the front door to the backs of pick-ups. They were relocated to a different home across town. They replanted their garden and replanted themselves. Last week was the final demolition of their "lake&qu

Recently I found all of the random video footage I have taken with my iPhone, and I decided to put it all together in one video as a sort of time capsule of what these past two years have really felt like. Here it is: A video nugget of this crazy life I live.

I've been thinking a lot about my dad lately, dreaming about him and hearing him in songs and voices on the subway platform. I miss him. I miss having football on the T.V. and mustard in the fridge. Unexpected memories and details about him are resurfacing again like how he loved carving pumpkins so much that not until I was an adult did I learn that it's usually a kid's activity. He took the task very seriously. I remember the four of us spending fall Sundays raking leaves, and I miss the way that we were together: a mother with high energy and too many plans, two daughters who fought over curling irons and internet, and a father who sat by with a smirk on his face shaking his head because he loved them so much. I guess the changing season reminds me of the changes that come whether we want them or not. Living and dying is a cycle, and so is the longing that autumn brings.

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Since I was first introduced to my first social media network (it's called Facebook, you may have heard about it) at the end of my freshman year of college, I've been all about it . [Although... secret confession: When my U of M friend JJ first told me about Facebook, I thought it was a website for carpooling??]  When Facebook allowed users to add photos and photo captions, I was in caption-writing heaven. Puns and alliterations and inside jokes and plays-on-words; I did it all.  Witty wall banter was the name of the game, and I was winning. My sorority awarded superlatives one spring (most brainy, best hair, etc.) and I went home with the coveted "biggest facebooker" award. It was a title well-deserved and appreciated. In the years that followed my facebook navigating and mass postings, I was introduced to blogging, tweeting, pinning, youtubing, and instagraming. In these social media sources, I have found an outlet for my creativity, my wit, my language, and for

Last week I was sick. Like really sick. It was probably just a cold, I think, but the pain and suffering that I experienced didn't seem to adequately fit into such a simple four letter word as the word "cold." It was all sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, stuffy head, fever, I-just-want-my-mom kind of sick, and it was awful. Then on Tuesday morning, right in the eye of my congestive storm, I had to wake up early and walk a mile to go babysit the only baby I've ever met who doesn't cry. Thank God. She slept a lot too, and so did I. After 8 hours of feeling like my death was near, I left the Park Slope townhouse and stepped into a Brooklyn downpour with no umbrella. Too cheap to take a taxi, I convinced myself to walk a few blocks and take a bus instead. I hung my head and powered through the rain only to be stopped at a red light next to a very friendly 60-year-old black man with silver whiskers who asked to take me out to dinner. With a voice sounding like a

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by Diana Der-Hovanessian When your father dies, say the Irish, you lose your umbrella against bad weather. May his sun be your light, say the Armenians. When your father dies, say the Welsh, you sink a foot deeper into the earth. May you inherit his light, say the Armenians. When your father dies, say the Canadians, you run out of excuses. May you inherit his sun, say the Armenians. When your father dies, say the French, you become your own father. May you stand up in his light, say the Armenians. When your father dies, say the Indians, he comes back as the thunder. May you inherit his light, say the Armenians. When your father dies, say the Russians, he takes your childhood with him. May you inherit his light, say the Armenians. When your father dies, say the English, you join his club you vowed you wouldn't. May you inherit his sun, say the Armenians. When your father dies, say the Armenians, your sun shif

I have to say that I'm proud to know you And I'll never be the same because we met You might not miss this But I will

On my walk to the train, I passed a truck full of pumpkins that was parked outside my grocery store. There was a man inside the truck who passed a pumpkin to a man standing on the sidewalk who then passed the pumpkin to a man who put it in a shopping cart. It didn't seem like a terribly efficient way to unload a truck full of pumpkins, but it made me smile outloud and to myself. Lately I've been drinking a lot of cider beer, and it's made me feel quite festive. Cider beer at the Renissance Faire. Cider beer outside at my local watering hole. Cider beer with candlelit dinner and friends. It makes me wonder if this sudden craving is caused by the changing season, the way that summertime makes me listen to country music, and spring makes me want to cut my hair. This will be my 26th autumn, my second in New York, and my first in Brooklyn. I don't know how many more autumns I'll have in Brooklyn or in New York or even at all, but I plan to enjoy every chilly, yellow,

I had a lot to do today; I did about half of it (all the easy/fun stuff). I finally finished putting my room together thanks in large part to my discovery of duct tape in a kitchen drawer and a power drill in our hallway closet. I was all sorts of Tim Taylor today, grunting and sweating and building and messing up and building again. There might be some unnecessary holes in my walls, but eventually I got it right. (I hope that is a metaphor for my job search.) The only bummer about finished my room today is that (ok two bummers): 1. I had all my friends over last night before any of this was done! 2. I have to leave my bedroom door closed because I'm allergic to the cat! Since I can't show my friends and I can't really show my roommates, I'm going to show you. My new-ish Brooklyn bedroom! (I used a panoramic app on my phone - that's why the lines are weird..)  

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On Labor Day afternoon I met WA and WL a few blocks from my apartment, and we took the train into the city to do a non-city thing. We got off the train on the W4 stop and walked to Chelsea Piers to check out free kayaking which we had all heard of but never experienced first-hand. A familiar cool breeze in the air was back in a friendly, and warmly welcomed way. It ushered us along as we followed signs and arrows pointing to "free kayaking," and we arrived on the pier with New Jersey straight ahead and the Freedom Tower and the rest of the downtown Manhattan to our left. We signed release forms, borrowed a padlock for a shared locker, and sadly put our iPhones away so they wouldn't get wet on our adventure. The volunteers working instructed us to remain in the bay and not to go out into the Hudson past the pier because of the current, and I nodded enthusiastically. Currents and I do not get along. We strapped on brightly colored life-jackets because my mother was very ada

Thanks to GG for dropping this gem in my box this week! I listened to it for the first time today as I hurried to the bus stop in between interviews, and it kept me calm in the madness of ego and art, strengths and weaknesses, eye contact and firm handshakes.   I keep running around Trying to find the ground But my head is in the stars And my feet are in the sky Well I'm nobody's baby I'm everybody's girl I'm the queen of nothing I'm the king of the world

1. Find a job 2. Apply for the job 3. Interview for the job 4. Get the job

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Last weekend I went to an English folk rock show in Williamsburg, a Brooklyn rooftop on Saturday to sunbathe, the Nebraska Husker Bar to watch the first game of the season, and to the Chelsea Piers to kayak for free in the Hudson. On Tuesday I started another new job at a hedge fund, and on Thursday I went with KS to Fashion's Night Out where we saw Solange Knowles (Beyonce's little sis!) DJ'ing at Diane Von Furstenberg. AND this morning I found out that I got another interview at the Guggenheim next week! WHOA. When I type it all out like that, it sounds so cool!! I'm living the life, right?? What could I possibly have to complain about*?! I've said it before (and will likely again), but New York City is a place of high highs and and low lows. My goal is to keep myself somewhere in the middle. Grounded, yet enthusiastic. Realistic, yet hopeful. Grateful, yet never totally satisfied. This blog is one way that I try to balance between the ups of luxury skyscrap

Tonight is Fashion's Night Out, and in its honor, I'm posting a video that TB did last fashion week (and she's doing again this Sunday.) So cool, right? Antonio Azzuolo FW 12/13 Menswear Collection from Taylor Ballantyne on Vimeo .

Have you heard/I told you about Kickstarter yet?? It's this amazing platform for artists, writers, creators, etc. to raise money for their creative endeavors. They put together a video and a profile explaining their project, how much money they need and what it's for, and they offer rewards to people for donating or 'backing' their project. I've donated to a couple projects already not because I'm rolling in the dough and need someone else to give it to (obvi), but I back projects because some of them are SO COOL. People are so creative and inspiring, and it feels cool to be a part (a small part) in helping an artist fulfill something that he/she feels inspired to do! Anyway, I'm all about it. The catch is this... a project creator sets a goal and a deadline, and if she/she doesn't meet that deadline, none of the backers' credit cards are charged and the creator falls short. BIG BUMMER. This way, it's really important that creators meet their

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Being a temp has got to be one of the weirdest jobs there is. You're kind of like a real employee, but the company doesn't really want you to work there forever and you don't really want to work there forever. *contemplating making a comparison to a one-night-stand... remembering my mom reads this* But really, the whole idea of being "temporary" is strange. Whether the company has high or low expectations and regardless of how much you're getting paid an hour or how long the assignment is, the whole experience is totally awkward. Let me give you an example, or thirteen. [Disclaimer: Despite the following confessions, I'm actually a pretty kick-ass temp. But when you change jobs and offices and coworkers every single week, there are bound to be a few hiccups here and there. So, future employer reading this, I promise that I'm actually a really capable and reliable employee. Plus, I have a sunny disposition and charming wit! Right?] It's just so

  Source: google.com via Becca on Pinterest I went to college in a small, Midwest town that wore red on Saturdays, drank a lot of beer, and made fall feel like the only season that mattered. I feel nostalgic for that time and that place more than ever now that I live in NYC where sometimes everything seems foreign and unfamiliar. This longing for college and community was satiated last fall the first time that I stepped into the Husker Bar. It's just a regular bar in Hell's Kitchen, on 44th street between 8th and 9th Ave and blocks from Times Square. There were tourists walking past with shopping bags and I heart NYC shirts, but as I got closer I saw a giant red flag with a white N in the middle, and I knew that I was getting close to where I belonged. This is how I felt again on Saturday as I watched the first game of the college football season with Nebraska Cornhusker fans new and old. I felt like I was home. Okay, okay, so I didn't actually go to Lincoln, Nebras

Slow Club! I saw them Friday night with SS, TB, and WL. $25 got me a ticket, two Stellas, and a new favorite band. Cheers!

Friday. On Friday night I met my friend HR at the Goodwill down the street where we found ton of stuff but were turned away at the dressing room (the dressing room closes at 7:30- have you ever heard of such a thing?!). I tried on a skirt over my clothes in between the isles like a fool, but it didn't fit. Humph. Then we went to the Fulton Grand to sit outside for beers while discussing underground volunteerism and the intricacies of Groupon. We went to Hill Cafe to split appetizers and sit outside by the glow of a citronella candle. We talked gender roles and weddings. Before we parted ways, we ran into AP outside the cafe on her way to buy carrot cake supplies. I just love Brooklyn. I stopped over to watch an episode of Friday Night Lights with KS while AP shredded carrots and listened to opera. I went home around midnight before my metaphoric coach turned into a metaphoric pumpkin.  Saturday. Saturday morning I woke up to weekend construction workers singing Garth Br