oh hump day.

I am going to start off with the Verbaledudette Gift Guide item Day Three: Turtle Shell Wireless Boombox

I am all about helping the locals, supporting the underdog - you know.. the hipster shit. These guys are just trying to get their product off the ground. You can buy it through kickstarter: http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/krissman/outdoor-techs-turtle-shell-rugged-wireless-boombox

Depending on how much you are willing to spend, depends on what you get for your gift. It is unique and fun and something any one of any age would enjoy! : )



Last night I read an article that warned all of San Francisco to prepare for flooding because a monsoon was heading our way. It rained really hard until ten o clock in the morning, then is was dry. No rain, no monsoon. Do you want to know where that left me? In pure disapointment. See, I got this super cool, chic, totally amazing, bubble umbrella (thanks papa) and I have not been able to use it to it's full potential because the rainfall has been meager. The forecaster guy on the news got my hopes up and then washed them away in a matter of minutes! (ULTIMATE SAD FACE.)

Although this did put a bit of a downer on my day, my day was still pretty good.

I did a presentation on Diane Arbus in my history of photography class, and well.. i do not think she really liked it because she did not ask to keep my slideshow and save it on her desktop like she did to the girl ahead of me. BUT give me some credit, I was trying to present something that we watched a twenty minute movie on right before. Everything I said had been previously presented with an older man with glasses and a British accent. I could not compare.

Savannah's Mother sent us a christmas tree to put up in our room to go along with the lights. (photos to come.)

Gabrielle sent me a letter that made my night! It had a mustache in it! And a penny!

To finnish off the evening I skyped with my loveliest of friends Sarah for four ours. This is what we did:

 what did you do with your wednesday night? : )


xoxo

i am not a robot

Title: Marina & the Diamonds 

San Francisco has been awkwardly hot the passed two days. People are in a panic. It is almost the next War of the Worlds as people try to go outside in sweaters and realize it is too hot. Pale skin is exposed rawly to the beams of the cloudless sun rays. There is no fog in sight. It has gone missing. I wore a strapless dress and nothing else today. I read my text books in the sunshine on Union Square Plaza. I am in a wonderful mood today and I thank helio-therapy. 

October has begun, just incase you did not know. Fall is here, the leaves should be changing, and the orange yellows and browns should be making their seasonal appearances on the wardrobes that walk to the streets to and from the coffee shops and work. 

To get into the holiday spirit, my family treated me (literally) to some fun packages. Yesterday I got a can in the mail. A soup sized can. As i opened it I was shocked to find there was no chicken noodle broth mixture, but a cute little note, candies, vampire fangs, black sparkle metallic nail polish, and boo mallow marshmallows. This was all from my sister. She even made me wait to open it until she could watch me do it on skype. Two and a half hours later I had finished all the candies and was almost in tears as I bid my sister (dressed in surgeon gear may I add) goodbye. She made my day.

Now I was coming home from class, I approached the doors, and the security guard couldn't wait to get out "Audrey, you have another package!" She was excited as she pulled out an orange box with pumpkin stickers and my Mother's handwriting. The minute I saw it, I knew my school teaching perfect handwriting too cute for words Mama had sent me something that no other college student would ever recieve. I rushed to my room, tore open the tape (which took longer than it should of. note to you: i had tape and envelopes) and almost died as i held halloween decorations in my hand. Mama sent me bats to put on the wall! With help from Emme and Phoebe, we now have bats flying from the mirror, to the door, and over to my neighbors door. We are the envy of the dorm. People have visited from other floors just to see the magic. People have offered me money to send to my mom so she can buy them some. I can confidently say that I have the best Mom in the world. No joke. 

I love Tuesdays because I have my favorite class, with my favorite teacher. I started my day getting a latte from Sugar Cafe, sipping it while I critiqued/analyzed/observed/argued about photographs as the sun rose through the windows for participation points. My class loved my final prints of different perspectives of Emme. I will give you the link once I post them, but I am incredibly proud of my work. Our next assignment is to shoot form and narrative. I love pieces that scream stories, provoke questions, make you want to know more. I have the perfect idea in my mind right now, it is hard to explain, so just cross your fingers and I will show you the final piece. 

I printed out my resume today and I am ready to turn it in to a coffee shop five blocks from my house. Cross your fingers. 

I am going to end this post with a product review. Now, before coming here my Mother and I were shopping at good ol' Costco. It was here that we stumbled upon some new razors for my shaver. They didn't need shower cream, it was like built onto it. You know what I mean? Well they work great, but they get sticky, they never dry, and they melt every time you get it wet. They only lasted a few shower uses and the little plastic piece that surrounds the blade actually fell off when i picked it up this morning. Although they are cute. Do not buy them. 

Ciao Bellas. xoxo 

Carpe Diem.

This is one of those coming to age posts. I know that most of you will leave at this point because you were hoping for more naked men - I understand and respect that.

Lives are like novels. As cliché as it may sound, we spend each day writing a chapter. In each chapter we introduce new characters, dive deeper into others, take adventures, or just keep traveling on the same path. In Mrs. Funston’s freshman English class, I learned that the climax of a story is when something happens in the plot that changes it so dramatically that you know nothing will be the same after. In other words, everything will be different.

 In life stories, I don’t think the climax is one certain event. It may be in yours, but not in mine. In my life, my climax is a series of events. I think the climax of my life, so far, was this last year. I learned so much about myself, I grew up, I took chances, I felt risks, and I accepted consequences – good and bad.

Before I moved to Italy I had never been on my own. I had not been to camp and I rarely had sleep overs, always making up excuses on why I could only have a late over or calling my mom in the middle of the night to pick me up. I had gone on the skateboarding tour for months away from home, but I always had (at least) my Father present. I graduated from high school and leaped into a surreal experience. I went from always holding my family’s hands, to flying my way to a foreign country where I did not know anyone, the language, where to go, or what to expect. I was pushed out of my comfort zone. I was scarred, but never did I ever regret doing it. Italy changed my life. Of course the culture and aspects of a foreign country were striking and eye opening, but suddenly I was forced to make decisions between good or bad, motivate myself to succeed at school, fix my own meals, and wash my own clothes. It sounds silly, but I was forced to grow up. Forced to experience. Forced to find out who I really was. In Italy I realized what mattered, what made me who I was, what I wanted to be, and how lucky I am.

 

This summer I discovered a lot about myself. I took my mindset from Italy and become conscious of where I stood. I had my first real job - and Market Street will never be the same. I made new friends and created stronger friendships with the old. I also lost a few. I gained confidence as I stood up for myself. In my favorite book The Perks for Being a Wallflower, Charlie says, “We accept the love we think we deserve.” I finally learned what that meant, that I deserve the world and not to let people pull me down or make me think otherwise. I realized who made me feel good about myself, who I could be myself around, who I could trust - and who didn’t/couldn’t.

In Love is a Mixtape, Rob Sheffield wrote “She worried way too much what people thought of her, wore her heart on her sleeve, expected too much from people, and got hurt too easily. She kept other people's secrets like a champ, but told her own too fast. She expected the world not to cheat her and was always surprised when it did.” It was on page thirty-one that it dawned on me that this is exactly who I was.

Now look at me.

(please note that the stress from packing did not result in alcoholism.) 

 Ha. But really. Tomorrow I leave to San Francisco to study at the Academy of Art University.

When you are little you talk about what you want to do when you grow up. You draw pictures of your dream room in notebooks, you plan your prom dress, go from wanting to be a princess, to Hannah Montana, to a teacher. Then one day, you realize that you REALLY can become anything you want. I cannot tell you the exact day I figured out that I could be a photographer as a career, but I can tell you that once the seed was planted in my head I could not stop feeding it nourishment. I kept telling myself the negatives: the lack of pay, the uncertainty, what will people think of you choosing art as a job? Will they think you took the easy way out? All of those are still in the soil of my ambition, but they are pushing me harder. Prove them wrong. Be happy every time you go to work. Put your best out there. Make someone notice. That small seed that once sat in the back of my mind is now a tangled vine, large and ever growing. Consuming.

Some gardens grow forever without being taken care of. I sit here saying that I am so fortunate to have the full support of my family to chase this crazy dream of mine. I hear the stories from people who graduated from high school with me about how they went to college because that is just what is expected of them, status quo, what else would they do? My parents sat me down when I graduated and told me to enjoy it. They believe that education is important, but take my time. If I don’t go to school right away, that is fine, but make sure that whatever I am doing, I am doing with my whole heart and taking advantage of every day. How many people can say that their parents want them to be nothing but happy? My Mother comes from a family where the in state University was the only choice and if she wanted to go, she was going to pay for it. My Father moved across the country because he wanted to ski and Utah had better slopes then Michigan. Two completely different outlooks, backgrounds, and stories – but they both agree on doing whatever they can to make sure my life is perfect. I could not be anymore grateful for what they have done. My parents have (and constantly continue) to support me finically, emotionally, and confidently. Here is a shout out, because I could never thank them enough for everything they do for me. I want to be them when I grow up. 

Thank you for the constant support, love, friendship, and help from my family and friends. You are the true reason that I have the opportunities I do in life.

San Francisco: I hope you are ready.

Here is to this crazy thing called life and how addictive it is to live it with arms wide open, Carpe Diem. 

Gabrielle: My High Jumper

This Friday, my sister, Gabrielle competed in her first track and field meet ever. I was so proud of her as she high jumped for the first time over a bar AND did long jumping without any practice. She cleared the high jump with ease and her highest score on long jump was ten feet three inches. Yahoo! I am on the edge of my seat and near tears with excitement.

To finish of this weekend, check out a cover of Goyte's song by some creative musicians:

bless this mess, we tried our best

I have never rung in the new year with so much laughter, dancing, and confetti. Last night and all of today was a perfect forshadowment (new word for 2012) to the year to come. I hope you had a wonderful day. Let's fill this year with no regrets and many memories. Here are a few snapshots!

Above: Gabrielle's (my sister) homemade cake pops. Very yummy.

Below: Asparagus wrapped in goat cheese and prosciutto followed by a homemade margarita pizza (fresh mozzarella, tomatoes, and basil.)

Above: My lovely parents (left is Monica and Konrad on the right) sporting their "HoHoHo" wine glasses and classy hats

Below: My best friend/sister Gabrielle smiling in the new year 

Just a reminder that the URL is changing on the fifth of January. It will change to: www.verbaledudette.blogspot.com

Goodnight! xoxo

*Title - Fader by: The Temper Trap

everyday is so wonderful. suddenly it's hard to breathe.

I am sitting in the “family room” area of the apartment. Both Joanna and Rachel are in bed, but my mind is full awake with constant thoughts that the idea of putting it to rest seems distant and unrecognizable. Today was good. Nothing new to report, other than I succeeded in Italian class without being corrected every word. Therefore, I would call this day productive simply for that reason.  My stomach kind of aches, but it can’t be because I had three cookies instead on my usual two.  Italian treats just do not work that way.  I haven’t really been getting any sleep lately. My mind has been working over time, a constant clock, ticking through the hours without a water break. I have been thinking of everything. Of going home, of leaving, of what I missed, of what is to come. My family, my friends, my choices, my art, how I have changed, what I want to become. I have been thinking of all the people I never told how much they mean to me and how much it worries me that I will never get to say it. Sometimes I forget how fragile life is until a death strikes close to home and rattles everything into place. 

This is an epic tale of a Girl and a Bee.

It is Tuesday night; the streets are loud with laughter from the nearby bar. I sit in my bedroom, music blaring through my broken ear buds, and I decide to write.

This evening I walked across the city to listen to Bill Viola speak. He was supposed to inspire me, make me a young artist eager to create, and give me hope for the rest of my life. Instead he spent his time reciting Japanese death poems, reflecting on his experiences with Facebooking the Dalai Lama, and how a woman decorated museum statues with her scarves. Nothing related to his films being played on the screen and I walked out more excited to leave than anything. I was disappointed. I wanted to be enlightened. I wanted to be taught. I wanted to have an experience to tell my Grandchildren (okay, actually, maybe I did not really want that, but it was a good idea at the time.)

My sister, Gabrielle, back in Salt Lake, wrote me a message today saying that a bee attacked her. When asking for details, I realized how entertaining the story was. Although she is in pain, she gave me permission to blog about it and share it with you. Let me give you a background fact: Gabrielle is afraid of bugs. When I say afraid, I mean, she hates them above anything. They terrify her, torment her, and they recently developed a passion of attacking her. Now that you know that, imagine the most beautiful girl ever telling this story. Her words are italicized, while my exaggerations are not.

I was sitting at the table doing my homework like the studios student I am. And well he, the large bee who was the size of Godzilla, was flying around my head whispering threats in my ear like a devil sitting on my shoulder in a cartoon. Dad hit him away twice. Naturally, the bee got angry. So angry that steam was flying out of his little nostrils. He latched onto my nose and stung me and then bit me. Like the way Edward bites the pillows in the intense sex scene in the last Twilight book (cannot wait until I see how they produced that in the theater.) We, being my Mother and Father and I, couldn’t get him off.  I would hit at it hard and then mom hit at it. Then mom punched at it (well she punched at the bee, that happened to be on face, so there for she punched me, which might explain the broken nose (kidding) but do not call parent/children control, because I know she was only trying to help save me from being eaten alive by this ferocious beast and that she really did not mean to smack her knuckle sandwich into my nasal passages. I wonder if a similar incident happened to my sister and that is why she couldn't breathe and had to get surgery.. hmm) and it came off!!!!! I cried like a five year old. I put ice on it, because we had no more bags of frozen peas and I was not going to put a frozen chicken breast on my eye (because that would just be wrong on more than one level) and when I woke up this morning my eye was swollen in the corner. I looked like a fat Asian/American but only on one side. So then I cried and didn’t want to go to school but dad made me because he doesn’t understand that swollen eyes are not in anymore. That was so last season when Snookie got in a fight with JWoww at the club at four in the morning because JWoww said that Snookie’s hair was too big to sleep with Ronnie and that she was sick and tired of Snookie’s spray tan getting all over the couch.

Wasn’t that just heart breaking and incredibly funny to you? I hope Gabrielle knows that I give my deepest sympathy to her, but it makes for an enjoyable story. It is almost epic enough to be made into a seven-book tale and placed on the shelves next to “Odysseus.” It made my day. After listening to such an slow, sleep surrendering, speech (check out all those S’s) it inspired me to not only stay away from bees, but to write on my blog.  

Goodnight : ) xoxo

Happy 15th Birthday Gabrielle!

I love you. 

Me and A Friend

Day two of this 30 day challenge is to find someone I have been friends with the longest and post a picture with them... after auditioning my fan list this lucky soul got the job!

My sister Gabrielle and I :] 

xoxo

photobooth tuesday.