bird by bird

An except from Anne Lamott's essay, "Becoming the Person You Were Meant to Be: Where to Start" "Dealing with your rage and grief will give you life. That is both the good news and the bad news: The solution is at hand. Wherever the great dilemma exists is where the great growth is, too. It would be very nice for nervous types like me if things were black-and-white, and you could tell where one thing ended and the next thing began, but as Einstein taught us, everything in the future and the past is right here now. There's always something ending and something beginning. Yet in the very center is the truth of your spiritual identity: is you. Fabulous, hilarious, darling, screwed-up you. Beloved of God and of your truest deepest self, the self that is revealed when tears wash off the makeup and grime. The self that is revealed when dealing with your anger blows through all the calcification in your soul's pipes. The self that is reflected in the

Three years ago ( three whole years ago?!? ) I took my first graduate seminar class that I thought might be my last. It was an American Romanticism class, and in comparison to other seminars I would eventually take as a grad student, it wasn't particularly challenging or difficult. We read stuff, talked about stuff, and at the end of the semester, I had to write a 20-ish page seminar paper about that stuff. Looking back on it now, it really wasn't a big deal. But at the time, I was in a very weird place in my life, and I don't think that I had the proper frame of mind for a first semester graduate English student. I struggled with getting out of bed and brushing my hair every morning, so I had zero motivation to exert thought and energy into 19th century transcendental literature. But then I met my man Walt Whitman, and this calm, positive, patient, appreciate man spoke to me and told me everything would be OK. Other people had told me that too, but with Walt I finally un

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This isn't something that I admit very often, both to myself and to the people around me, but living in New York City can be and is often incredibly lonely . It's the ultimate irony, really, to live in the biggest city in the United States surrounded by 8 million people and having virtually no personal space once you leave your apartment door yet finding yourself feeling, at times, so totally and completely alone. I don't have classmates, or coworkers, or sorority sisters. I don't have a boyfriend or anyone who shares my bloodline within a 1,000 mile radius. I don't have a pet, not even an easy one like a fish or a hamster. Come to think of it, I don't even have a plant. Don't get me wrong; I'm not completely unattached in this city. I have a roommate and a handful of kick-ass city friends, but life here is so full and fast that getting together for a cup of coffee or a movie requires great organizing and coordinating that sometimes weeks or even month

I don't know what someone like me, a person who is perpetually broke, financially incompetent, and constantly in between jobs, was thinking by moving to one of the most expensive cities in the world. Honestly . It's not that being broke is a new concept to me. I've always lived paycheck to paycheck, so I'm pretty familiar with the whole wanting-not-buying, wearing-and-taking-back, eating-canned-not-fresh thing. Words like "thrift," "discount," "used," and "clearance" became a useful part of my vocabulary at an early age, and this is something that I'm actually kind of proud of. I can coupon clip with the best of them! But it's just so much harder to be broke here. Maybe not harder, but a lot more depressing. There are so many places that I want to go, so many things I want to see and do and eat and wear! And *whine alert* it's just not fair that I can't afford like 75% of those things. Ugh. Poor me. Literally. 

I stole this video from a friend who posted it on facebook, and then I watched it seven times in a row. It's like a whole romantic comedy in a couple minutes minus all of the cliches! It doesn't make me want to use Google Chrome, but it does make me want to get a cup of coffee with this dude. Fingers crossed.

Get some sleep. Eat an orange every morning. Be friendly. It will help make you happy. Hope for everything. Expect nothing. Take care of things close to home first. Straighten up your room before you save the world. Then save the world. Be nice to people before they have a chance to behave badly. Don't stay angry about anything for more than a week, but don't forget what made you angry. Hold your anger out at arm's length and look at it, as if it were a glass ball. Then add it to your glass ball collection. Wear comfortable shoes. Do not spend too much time with large groups of people. Plan your day so you never have to rush. Show your appreciation to people who do things for you, even if you have paid them, even if they do favors you don't want. After dinner, wash the dishes. Calm down. Don't expect your children to love you, so they can, if they want to. Don't be too self-critical or too self-congratulatory. Don't think that

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This is what always happens..

Ok, I have a serious question. What exactly is a hipster? And why is it bad? Or is it? These are serious questions . I woke up this morning to accusations that a photo of me on facebook had "so much hipster going on." This comment came from a guy* who admittedly hates hipsters. In the words of Stephanie Tanner, "How rude!" I first heard the term "hipster" a few years ago when I was visiting EH in Williamsburg, aka the mecca of NYC hipsters. I think she told me that it was bad to be a hipster, but everything that she told me about being hipster sounded pretty cool to me! I have been confused about this ever since. It's like everyone secretly wants to be hip enough to be a hipster, but no one wants to  be called a hipster, but some people very obviously are hipsters. Am I? To answer this question, I consulted the ever-so-credible online source UrbanDictionary.com .Here are the findings of some highly scholarly research: DEF: (n.) Hipsters are a

 My talented, beautiful friend TB put together a rockin' and rollin' collection of her stuff in this ah-maaazing reel, and I'm so proud of her! Check it out!

Favorite line from this week's episode of GIRLS. Hannah, an aspiring writer living in NYC who is broke, unemployed, and a little lost (sound familiar?), goes home to Michigan to spend the weekend with her parents. When she gets asked out on a date by a pharmacist, she has to cancel dinner plans with her parents who are understandably disappointed. I love how Hannah is just straight up like I gotta do this you guys. This is why. "I've been dating someone who treats my heart like its monkey meat. I feel like a delusional, invisible person half the time, so I need to learn what it's like to be treated well before its too late for me." That is just so true . Sometimes you just need to be reminded of what it's like to be treated well, before its too late. Hannah from HBO's GIRLS

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I think I'll write a book . Maybe I'll get a full-time reception job. I should move back to South Dakota. I should probably get a job using my degrees. I wonder if there are any jobs in Kansas City. I think I might be good at editing. How hard is it to get into the Peace Corps? I really miss driving my jeep. What is Denver like? I should look into going back to school. I really miss my Midwest friends and family. I've never been to the West coast... I need to apply for that job . How much is tuition at Colombia? It's probably time I get a job with benefits. The job I have now isn't bad. Am I ready to leave New York? Maybe I could nanny again . I really love my NYC friends. I wonder if USD is hiring. I really need to write my teaching philosophy. I wonder how hard it would be to self-publish. Could I live in South Dakota again? I think I'll start free-lance tutoring. I'm definitely going to write that book.

This quote so perfectly represents what I love about Zooey Deschanel, her new show New Girl , and her gal-site HelloGiggles . She's weird and girly and ridiculous and over the top but she just doesn't give a damn. And she's smart, too, just not in the "pant suit" kind of way.  Plus I have some MAJOR bang envy.

If forced to describe myself as either an introvert or an extrovert, I think I'd say the latter. I like being social, making friends, and being around people, most of the time. I consider myself fairly friendly and outgoing. I strike up conversations with strangers when I'm waiting in line at the Post Office and I introduce myself to people at parties. My recent experience during office lunch time makes me re-evaluate all of this. I've mentioned before that breakfast/lunch at this company is freaking unbelievable . Seriously, it's so great to get free, healthy, and gourmet food every single day! The catch is that I have to eat in a big lunch room-type setting, and even though the clientele  is a lot more distinguished than a middle school cafeteria, my response to the crowded room is the same it was 13 years ago. I stand there nervously holding my hunter green lunch tray, and I anxiously scan the room for someone who will invite me to sit at their table. And no one do

TMI ALERT... I'm having a total "Dear Diary" day, but since I don't actually have a diary, I had to blog my stream-of-consciousness thoughts here. In this post I tried to figure out my future and SPOILER ALERT, I didn't . Read at your own risk.

Fellow train takers, listen up! I'm sick of your nasty eating habits, your inconsiderate bag placement, and the way that that you lean your whole body against the pole so no one else can hang on. Knock it off! I'm starting a city-wide campaign to educate New Yorkers (or actually more accurately non-New Yorkers who are on a family vacations or school trips) about how to be considerate, safe, and generally not big sick-o's when taking the NYC subway. When you're taking the train and there aren't any places to sit, you have to hang on. I'm serious about this. You may think that you're superior to the law of physics, but you are not. If you don't hang on to something and instead stand on the train in what I like to call, "ready position," things are not going to end up well for you. You're going to fall or almost fall, and you're going to get hurt or almost hurt. I've seen one too many tourists face plant because they thought they coul

“We begin to find and become ourselves when we notice how we are already found, already truly, entirely, wildly, messily, marvelously who we were born to be.” ― Anne Lamott

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In college, I was a drunk dialing fool. Get a couple beers in me and the next thing you'd know, I'd be stepping outside a party or in the bathroom of a bar calling friends near and far to tell them... well, I'm not actually sure what I would tell them. But it was probably something about how I loved them or missed them or remembered something about them and thought, "Hey, this would be a good time to call ______________." Sometimes these phone calls were harmless. But sometimes they were harmful, to my ego, at least. There is a good chance that I am the inspiration for the "I love you man!" commercial, and this is not necessarily something I am proud of. Sloppy and slurred doesn't suit me. The, along with my nose ring and punk-hair phase, I sort of grow out of drunk dialing. This may or may not be a direct result of the end of my college drinking lifestyle. (It's impossible to drunk dial if you're not drunk). I drew the DD line in 2009 and

“I don't want to freak you out, but I think I may be the voice of my generation. Or at least a voice. Of a generation.”

Last night I lost my Red Bull virginity. That's not totally true; I've had Red Bull in jag bombs before, but I've never had a whole can until last night. It fulfilled its desired effect of "giving me wings" so to speak, and it definitely perked me up. I was flying high and it was great, until I tried to go to sleep. And then this happened: Dream #1: I'm walking out the front door of Theta and there are giant trees lining the sidewalk leading me to the corner of Clark St. and Plum St. I see a baby stroller with a little baby girl inside and she's cute and she's crying. I pick her up, and immediately we love each other. I somehow figure out where her mom lives (in the Pike house), and I go to return the little girl to her. I ask the mom, "What happened? Why did you leave your baby?!" And the mom tells me that she had something important to do and couldn't take the baby along. She takes the baby out of my arms, and tells me to leave. As

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I'm temping at an Investment thingy (or whatever) for the next couple of weeks, and it is seriously the best temping gig I've ever had. I won the temping lottery!! (Now this next part might sound a little braggy.. but I'm just in such disbelief that I get to work here! So I gotta share). First of all, I get free breakfast. And free lunch. Every day. And I'm not talking about one of those lame hotel continental breakfasts when they put out stale donuts and burnt coffee. This food is legit! For breakfast there is a spread of bagels, breads, cereals, fresh fruit, yogurts, flavored coffee, and more! And for lunch.. well... Let's just say that I have been to weddings were the food hasn't been this good. For example, here is today's menu: SALAD   Chicory, Endive and Rocket Arugula Salad Croutons and Shaved Parmesan with a Garlic, Lemon and Anchovy dressing ENTREES   Lamb Pot Roast Warm Farro with Diced Vegetables Braised Dandelion, Kale,

I GET TO SEE THESE GUYS TONIGHT!! Source: Uploaded by user via Fausto on Pinterest Well, technically they might not be there in person, but their photographs will be! TB invited me to the opening of " Rolling Stones: Celebrating 50 Year s ," a photography exhibit at the Morrison Hotel Gallery . TB works for Ken Regan , a photographer who has worked with and shot the RS guys extensively. This guy drops names like I accidentally drop objects. He's shot athletes like Muhammad Ali and Wilt Chamberlain and wars in Vietnam and Bosnia. He's taken photographs of the Kennedy family, and he's gone on tour with Bob Dylan and the Rolling Stones. That's just the tip of the name-dropping iceberg! ANYWAY, I get to go to this cool rock star event tonight, and I'm so pumped!! I'm hoping to subtly snap some pics and get a good story to tell all while constantly having to remind myself "Be cool, Lightfield. Be cool." This Honky Tonk woman is also pre

 So I'm sort of confused about Tumblr and how it's different from Pinterest or a regular blog. Or is it the same thing? I'm not sure. But lately a lot of cool people I know have been starting Tumblrs, and I thought I'd share the web wealth with you!! This tumblr is by my New York amiga and super cool photographer friend TB. She's so funny, and so is the stuff she posts. LOL. Also, here is her website . And her videos . TB's cuz and my new fabulous friend, SS is the creator of this bad boy. She posts cute and silly and girly stuff; it's like internet candy! Instagram is the predecessor for this tumblr by my gal pal AJ. The concept (breakfast + little plastic toys) is so simple, but the pics are so creative!! I've been "liking" the crap out of her on Instagram, and I'm excited that she made the plunge to tumblr-world! Warning: Checking this out is going to make you want some carbs reaal bad. My homegirl EH started this tumblr fo

This morning I ACCIDENTALLY slapped a woman on the D train. It's hard to explain, but it happened somehow, and afterward I ran off the train and down the platform because that broad looked mean! Then I got on the E train, and as soon as the doors closed, I realized it was going the wrong direction! Then, I gave up on the trains and walked through Times Square, which is just about the last place you want to be when you're late for work and haven't had your morning coffee. I made it to the office with one minute to spare and have been watching my back ever since. Karma's a bitch, you know.

Shazam is the single greatest app that I have every used. I realize that's a big statement. But I really mean it!! Do you have any idea how many times in my life I have heard a song on the radio, at the store, at a party, and I have spent the rest of the day/week trying to figure out how I can hear it again and then ultimately failing at solving the music mystery?! Thanks to Shazam, my days of googling "rap song about 'ganstas in ice'" and "folk country song about traveling" are over! Now, I can Shazam that shiz! Here are some of the songs I've been Shazam-ing lately. Enjoy! " Loving Wings " by Dave Matthews & Tim Renolds " She Drives Me Crazy " by Fine Young Cannibals " Heartache Tonight " by Eagles " Best of My Love " by The Emotions " Last Nite " by The Strokes " I Can Love You Like That " by All-4-One

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 Happy Tuesday! Here's what I did a few Tuesday's ago (and forgot to post until now)...     I stood outside the Housing Works Bookstore on a windy Tuesday evening and talked to TBK on the phone while I waited in line for the Moth Story Slam. It was only the second one I've attended live, and DH and I had been meaning to meet up for it for weeks. In between sirens rushing past and the chatter of other story slam enthusiasts in the background, I held my iPhone close to my ear and TBK and I talked about feeling dumb at work and getting to see each other in a couple of weeks. She had to go and I had to go, and DH walked up to the line at the perfect time as we were getting off the phone. DH joined me in line and it slowly began to creep up around the corner of the block toward the bookstore entrance. Just as we were about to get in, there was an announcement that the bookstore was at capacity and we wouldn't be able to get in. No story slam for us. Total bummer.