Grievances and Big Plans

This summer, I allowed myself to be peer-pressured into abandoning this blog in favor of a Tumblr. It wasn't my finest moment, and I regret it to this day.
The beauty of blogging, in my opinion, is the ability to compose thoughtful posts and chuck them out into the cyber community for judgment and ridicule. But sites like Tumblr discount the idea of writing, almost altogether. Why put the time and effort into crafting a thought-provoking post when you could just throw another Facebook status up there or pound out a pop-culture quote or song lyrics? Why analyze the world around you when you could, with less effort, get more responses by posting a picture of your dog?
So, I'm saying good-bye to Tumblr and am officially returning to my "lame" old-style blog here. It may not get as many eyes to scan over it, but that's okay. If I write it, those who truly want to read it will come.
I have big plans to get this going again, per usual. We'll see if my commitments allow me the time.

"I need a sweater; it's 8:40."

This past weekend was born a little more than a month ago. It started as a Facebook message to the BV staff and evolved from a Cedar Point excursion of 15+ New Yorkers and Pennsylvanians to an exploration of my very own Cleveland enjoyed by a select few.

Now, while seeing the entire editorial staff all at once would have been great, I wouldn’t change a thing about July 2-4.

Elizabeth, Tyler, Cam, Paps and a guest appearance by Amanda and Sara brought the perfect combination of Ohio discoveries, hilarity, and questionable quotes from Her to my Cleveland suburb.

I’m including a list of some of the things my New York friends discovered about my great state and life in general, as suggested by the “Welcome to Ohio” sign:

-Our speed limit signs have two different speeds.

-My side door fails at its job of closing, allowing Emma the Flight-Risk Kitty to escape. (No worries, guys. Her other family returned her to us tonight and turned out to be the parents of a long-lost high school friend! Some things are meant to be.)

-Never take a friendly canine-homophobic neighbor at face value.

-Northeast Ohioans and Western New Yorkers have the same nasally accent.

-Ohioans are legally allowed to talk on cell phones while driving.

-The official Sweater Time is 8:40 p.m. Blanket Time is 11:33 p.m. and is not as widely acclaimed as Sweater Time.

-Certain Cleveland limo drivers shamefully don’t know the difference between the Terminal Tower and the BP Building.

-It takes longer to order a meatball sub than it does for seven people to buy gelato in Little Italy.

-Showers are complicated spaceship-like structures.

-Gas is much cheaper in Ohio than New York.

-Ghetto gas stations allow two students inside at a time, assuming they are not using cell phones.

-Former child-actor Ian Petrella’s greatest lifetime achievements include puppeteering and the ability to apply a nicotine patch. Oh, and he was also Randy in “A Christmas Story.”

-The infamous LeBron James billboard is much larger than it appears on TV, but equally as badass.

-The Winking Lizard is a restaurant, not a euphemism.

-Boys avoid stores like Bath & Body Works and Victoria’s Secret, regardless of geographical location.

-Passionate Kisses smell like roses and summer and yum. And they can be yours for the low, low clearance price of five bucks, give or take.

-Tickets to a Cleveland Indians game are dirt cheap, but elderly security guards are surprisingly intense about keeping Grady’s Ladies away from his banner.

-Player head shots on the Progressive Field scoreboard are seriously poor quality and make superficial judgments difficult.

-Grady Sizemore is easily the most attractive Indians player; Coco Crisp has the best name in the MLB and possibly the universe; whoever Cleveland’s #2 is, he’s deceivingly attractive and has the potential to win a tie game in the 10th. inning.

-A sign for I-90 might really mean only 90 East and/or Cleveland is prejudiced against west-siders and intentionally leads them into the projects.

- Fire pits have the ability to majorly singe the hair of idiots who get too close when lighting natural gas on fire.

-“The Secret” may or may not be complete bullshit.

-Football, apparently, is by no means a TV show.

-S’Mores require a recipe.

-There’s just something about that guy.

And that, my friends, is all I could think of for now. Fill in the blanks for me, eh?

I also posted this on my new Tumblr blog, but I'm not sure which site I'm going to stick with.. I love blogger.com ever so much, but apparently more people have Tumblr.. I don't know!

rotting fruit, or something to that effect

It has been entirely too long since I've posted anything on here. I have so many great ideas for posts, but somehow they never come to fruition. I wanted to write about Atonement by Ian McEwan and how it describes me in so many ways I was almost disturbed. I have a lot to say about the characters I met while on jury duty. I want to put together some kind of stream-of-consciousness for my next potential novel. Independence, dependence and disappointment are on my list of abstract concepts to disect. I had a thought tonight about how lucky I am to have my life figured out, for the most part, and how satisfying it is to have a passion.
But these are all the best intentions. Too often, I have these great plans and aspirations, but they end up in a pile of disappointing muck that I imagine would smell like rotting fruit. They're always so tantilizingly sweet before I leave them sitting out a couple days too long, and then it's just plain too late.
I've missed writing. Even if this post doesn't really accomplish anything, I feel so much better just to be putting nouns and verbs and adjectives together into something I like. Somehow, I can't even describe it, but if you love to write like I love to write, you understand.

Life is full of characters...

So many people I meet would make fantastic stars of their own novels.

Take the owner and chef of El Tango, a Mexican restaurant in Lakewood, Ohio. I'm not exactly supposed to divulge what made him so dang interesting, but maybe I'll write him into a book someday. (By coincidence, of course!)

Here's to meeting countless more characters this summer.

To the Dean, anonymously:

I couldn’t care less about St. Francis if I tried. I chose St. Bonaventure for the journalism, and I intend to benefit from this program.

But I can’t rely on just journalism. I need a solid informational background so I can write and speak intelligently. I need a heavier focus on learning new technology and software; not knowing Adobe software well enough has me on the verge of losing an internship this summer. I need to learn how to learn so I can adapt to any job.

Employers expect journalism majors to be excellent writers, but all I know is newswriting. I want to know more than how to be a reporter; chances are I will never be one. I need writing skills that go beyond the newsroom to the business world.

I’ll go to Francis when I need to remember good morals, but for now, I need to equip myself to make enough money to enjoy that luxury.


Wrote this for Denny's class. It's not much more than sassy whining, but I kind of liked how it turned out.

Musing and Lyrics and Confidence

"She don't run from the sun no more
She boxed her shadow and she won
Said I can see you laugh
Through these bottle caps
And this wire around my neck ain't
There for fun"

If you think I'm not shy, my plan is working. But I'm aware enough of myself and my surroundings to know I'm not such a good actress. I'll be the first to admit I'm not an outgoing person.

Last week, I literally ran out of the Rathskeller so I wouldn't have to participate in Open Mic Night. I wasn't trying to be dramatic or anything. I just literally could not handle the idea of getting up in front of people to express myself.

If expressing myself remotely through words makes me a coward, then call me a coward.

"But someday we'll all be old
And I'll be so damn beautiful
Meanwhile I'll hide my head
Here in this paper bag
Cause if I cant see you
Then you can't see me
And it'll be okay
Fly little bee away
To where theres no more rain
And I can be me"

I won't go into the reasons behind my lack of confidence. They're not important anymore. What's important now is forcing the insecurities out and replacing them with forced confidence until it's real. I'm a big believer in the fake-it-'til-you-make-it cliche.

"Yeah they talk about her
She smiles like shes so tough
She says
'hey can you talk a little louder,
I don't think my heart is broken enough'"

This weekend, I'll be playing softball for the first time in my life - in front of the entire school. Confidence would help here. But for me, confidence comes from knowing I can do something without embarassing myself.

I can manage class presentations just fine as long as I'm prepared. Even interviewing isn't so bad if I can run through the exchange in my head beforehand.

But softball? I'm not even sure I want to practice because I know I won't be automatically awesome. That's just not how athletics go for me. And as long as I can trick myself into believing I could be awesome when it comes time, I'll be fine until the first game.

"But someday we'll all be old
And I'll be so damn beautiful
Meanwhile I'll hide my head
Here in this paper bag
Cause if I can't see you
Then you can't see me
And it'll be okay
Fly little bee away
To where theres no more rain
And I can be me"

College has brought me so far from where I was confidence-wise in high school. I'm much more comfortable now with meeting new people. I can talk to people without feeling intensely awkward.

But I have a long way to go.

"Some days I wade in the indigo
Singing that song on the radio
I blame these puddles on the rain
You know I gotta keep these cheeks dry today
Gotta keep my cheating strategy
And baby I'm gonna have it made."

Maybe someday it will all just click. I'll wake up one morning, feeling like I can take on the world. Maybe someday I'll surprise myself and sing karaoke without three beers under my belt. But for now, those 'maybes' are just maybes.

"But someday we'll all be old
And I'll be so damn beautiful
Meanwhile I'll hide my head
Here in this paper bag
Cause if I can't see you
Then you can't see me
And it'll be okay
Fly little bee away
To where there's no more rain
And I can be me"

"Paper Bag" by Anna Nalick

Writer, blocked.

I don't know how to say what's on my mind right now. And it probably doesn't belong on a blog, for that matter. But the beauty of a blog is that very few people appreciate them enough to read them. So I get the thrill of putting my thoughts out to the public without really attracting too many readers.

I've been listening to The Gaslight Anthem quite a bit lately, and somehow, this music helps me put my thoughts in order.

I've never had music I could really call my own. It was Billy Joel and Mom's 80's-90's-and-now radio station until I switched to the pop-music-of-the-moment station. And when I came to college, I started loving Country music. Somehow the relative obscurity of Gaslight makes it feel like this is my music.

It's actually the first music I've loved with a hint of angst to it, and that's been pretty healing. To be honest, that dose of life-bites-sometimes is about 6 years overdue. Two or three lines from one of these songs hit so startlingly close to my reality I had to listen to it ten more times.

"I saw tail lights last night, in a dream about my whole life.
Everybody leaves, so why, why wouldn't you?"

I'm not entirely comfortable talking about the tough spots in my life. Pity makes me uncomfortable. But it's a relief to know someone, or some band, has had the same experiences I have.

It may not even be the music that's helping me, though. The most meaningful music takes a person away from the here and now to a better there and then. And in this case, this music takes me from my muddled thoughts to remind me of the great new friends I've made who feel as strongly about this band as I do. I know I could go to that handful of people for anything, and that's a real comfort.

"But all I want is for you to be alright and satisfied
Brothers and sisters know that anytime or late at night,
If you call I will answer, I'm open ears though tired eyes
But the world closed it's arms on us now."