bird by bird

My senior year of college at USD was my last year with my dad. He got to sit in the audience during homecoming coronation and my graduation and when I won first place at Strollers. This year is my little sister's senior year of college at USD, and it breaks my heart that my dad can't sit with us in the audience while we cheer for her for all of those same things. And because I live 1500 miles away in New York City, my own presence in Allison's milestones is limited. I'm not there either. It's for this reason why I decided to fly back to South Dakota for 31 hours to surprise both my sister and my mom and to cheer on Allison and her cast at Strollers. I like to think that both my dad and I flew in for the show. I was just the one they got to hug. Surprising my mom! from Amanda Lightfield on Vimeo . Surprising my sister! from Amanda Lightfield on Vimeo . Oh yeah, and did I mention that they WON?!?!? WINNER CROWNS from Amanda Lightfield on Vi

Remember my friend AP who I always brag about because she's a super fancy designer for Tracy Reese and let's me borrow her clothes and come to fashion shows and generally make my life feel exponentially more glamorous than it actually is ?!? Well, she did it again. Last week was her last show with Tracy Reese because she just accepted an AMAZING job at J. Crew.. and now I'm telling you her whole life story. I'll refrain. ANYWAY, after the TR fashion show on Sunday we went to her friend and co-worker's bf's amazing penthouse apartment in the Upper West Side where we stood in awe at the amazing view and made sure not to take our glasses of red wine on the white carpet. We mingled and munched and then, the host with the most sat down at his grand piano and played this most appropriate anthem. An overplayed song, perhaps, but oh-so perfect in that moment. "Tonight, We are young So let's set the world on fire We can burn brighter Than the sun"

I get angry when the NYC subway is inaccurately depicted in TV and movies. Like I'm such a snob about it: "Nuh huh! That's not the REAL New York City Subway!" Who cares, Amanda? Who cares? It's a movie.. Patients have been particularly impatient with me at work this week, especially one woman who called demanding to speak with the MD because she had been “crapping her brains out.” I did not put her on hold. A few mornings ago I woke up and before crawling out from under my covers, I checked the outside temperature on my phone. It said 24 degrees, and I audibly whimpered with dread. Then I realized I had been looking at the temperature in South Dakota, so I switched over to the NYC temp. It was 25 degree. I’ll take what I can get. My boss bought me Opera tickets since I told him I have never been; then he emailed me the tickets and told me to remember to bring my Opera glasses to the theater. All I have are 3-D glasses. I wonder if those will wor

Whenever I see the numbers 605 on an apartment building or in a total on a receipt from the bodega on the corner, my brain recognizes the familiarity of the series before it makes the association to South Dakota. For the majority of my life, most of the people I loved were attached to these three numbers. These three numbers still are a password at the metaphorical telephonic gate at which I stand and call out to my loved ones.  6-0-5. South Dakota. Please pick up.

My homegirl LJK has been reading E.B. White's essay "Here is New York" for the first time, and our reflections and observations about the prose have been seeping into our conversations for weeks. We have discovered that our sentiments about this city that we love are the same sentiments that White noted in 1947. After one of our "this essay rocks" conversations, I was reminded of a section that I remembered reading two years ago, a section when White describes how NYC is a city made up of small towns. At the time, I read, I didn't fully understand, but now when I read the same words, I get it . See if you do, too: "The oft-quoted thumbnail sketch of New York is, of course: 'It's a wonderful place, but I'd hate to live there.' I have an idea that people from villages and small towns, people accustomed to the convenience and the friendliness of neighborhood over-the-fence living, are unaware that life in New York follows the neighborho

 When I saw this commercial for the first time, I had two thoughts: 1. Is this an SNL skit? 2. If not, I NEED TO HAVE ONE!

I love the opening scene of the Christmas movie Love Actually (and every scene that follows, let’s be honest) because it so concisely and poignantly expresses the complexity of love by showing what happens every day at the arrival gate at Healthrow Airport. See what I mean? Though the Cancer Hospital where I work is unlike the arrival gate at an airport in almost every way, I get to see what love looks like when it’s not all rainbows and sunshine, when it’s bad news, and painful procedures. When it’s not “welcome back” but instead “here we go.” I see love is that scared and weak and sick. But that doesn’t make any less powerful. In fact, I think it's the real deal, the meat and potatoes of what it means to love someone. In sickness and in health. Love is when husbands hand over the phone to their wives when scheduling appointments because “she’s the one who knows what’s going on around here” and when wives ask husbands to get on the phone when calling in for a prescription beca

“Be soft. Do not let the world make you hard. Do not let pain make you hate. Do not let the bitterness steal your sweetness. Take pride that even though the rest of the world may disagree, you still believe it to be a beautiful place.” ― Kurt Vonnegut