Angry Face

Yesterday I was at the cash register purchasing my dinner when I noticed that the cashier was looking at me strangely. He had a smirk on his face and I just couldn't figure out what was so amusing. So I just looked at him, waiting for some sort of explanation. Finally he says to me, "You just look kind of angry."

My response, "Sorry, I get that a lot."

I can't tell you how many times I've been told that I look angry/mad/too serious. In fact, at UVA the lunch ladies used to make fun of my serious look by nicknaming me "smilie." I, of course, retaliated by trying to put on my most cheery smile every time I got up to the counter... I don' think they bought it.

I'm not an angry person. I actually consider myself quite nice and friendly... unfortunately my face doesn't match my attitude. I can't help it. I was born with a scrunched up forehead.

And whatever happened to the cold hearted New Yorker stereotype? You'd think I fit right in... apparently not.

The core of mans' spirit comes from new experiences.

In my ever so adventurous state Saturday evening, I stayed in to watch "Into the Wild" in HD.

Side note: HD is my Dad's excuse for staying in because in his opinion, "HD is better than the real thing." I caught him watching a Goo Goo Dolls concert in HD and decided I should probably cut back on my TV time before I fall into the same mindset.

Anyway, Into the Wild was by far the best movie (aside from Camp Rock, don't judge me) that I've seen in a long time. It just makes you think about your life choices and what you are really capable of doing. The movie tells the story of this guy who graduates from college, burns all of his money, and becomes a tramp, or as he refers to himself, a supertramp.

I know that I could never do what he did, but at the same time his bravery and attitude toward life are admirable. It makes you want to go out and try something new... or at least blog about wanting to go out and try something new. Or maybe just watch someone else do something new in HD...

Camp Camp

This book defines my summer existence since age 11.

This book can and should be judged by its cover.

It is a hilarious amalgamation of pictures and stories from campers reliving their camp memories. With each page I read, I feel like I am going behind enemy lines- learning the insider details of camps outside of my own. Yet at the same time, I'm learning that my ability to relate to all of these awkward, yet familiar experiences shows that at the core, every camp is just camp- in all of its glory.

If you are a camp outsider and have always wondered what goes on in what appears to be a summer cult... you should pick this one up.

The Love Bus

This weekend I opted for the ultimate escape route: a 5 hour bus ride taking me from New York to Arlington. It was sort of a spur of the moment decision [about as spontaneous as I get] prompted by news of the arrival of my new car at the Toyota dealer (woo!). After peeking out of my office on Friday afternoon and realizing that practically everyone else had left the building, I decided to make a break for it. I decided to test my agility by speed walking in flip-flops & jeans in the 95 degree weather. Drenched in sweat, I made it back to my apartment in record time- only to dump out my bag and fill it with the bare essentials [toothbrush, half-charged ipod, and a copy of my recent read- Camp Camp: Where Fantasy Island Meets Lord of the Flies].

I finally made it to the bus stop around 3:50pm, leaving just enough time for me to spend $6 on a bottle of Gatorade and Diet Coke... I was so thirsty I almost bought out the whole overpriced cart.

Finally I boarded the bus, and was lucky enough to have my very own seat! I basked in the glory of this feat for a good 5 minutes until I was introduced to my oh so friendly reclining, kissy face, PDA loving neighbors inhabiting the seats directly in front of me.

First of all, I'm not a bus person. I don't do well with the jerking motion, the curves, the smells- it makes me nauseous. But add a gushy love struck couple practically in my lap- and you might as well have put me on a row boat in the middle of a storm with 10 foot waves. Or better yet, throw me overboard.

Then enters the neighbor sitting in the seat behind me. It just so happens he is going on a first date later that night and decides to engage the help of the girls sitting behind him to pick a location. So for about an hour I have to listen to the endless ramblings of "OH you should take her to this place called, You and Me, or maybe its called, Me and You, OH or you could go to this bar on the river, but I forget the name, OH and you two could go for some late night munchies at 5 Guys, OH and one time my cousin's friend told me about this really great place, but I'd have to call her..." My favorite part was the girls parting advice, "You should definitely seal the deal, if you know what I mean."

After 5 hours of the Love Bus, I was slightly regretting my spontaneity... but later on that evening I found myself wondering, did he in fact seal the deal?

I'm an Intern. I do what I want.

OK, so that is not true at all, but I'm learning that you have to be a little creative [go figure] to "do what you want" as an intern. During the first week of my internship I was told by my team that that when in doubt- do, and if necessary- beg forgiveness later. So lately I've decided to adopt this philosophy. Here are some of the things I've figured out:

1. Casual dress is open to interpretation.
At UVA business casual was defined as nice, but not a suit- think khakis and a nice blouse. So on the first day of my internship that is exactly what I wore. After noting that some of the guys come to work in jeans, a t-shirt and Nikes, I decided to adjust accordingly. Lately I've even dared to slip some bermuda shorts into the mix. I mean come on, I'm an intern- I wear what I want.

2. Carry a Blackberry on vibrate at all times.
Thank goodness I had a Blackberry before starting this internship. A Blackberry in corporate America is the key to graduating from the kids table. Everyone in my office has their phones on them at all times and are constantly emailing back and forth [during meetings, lunch, conversations in the hall, in elevators]. So to blend in, I carry mine too. Of course there is the fact that my work email isn't even forwarded to my phone, but I've decided that my gmail and text messages are probably just as, if not more, important and deserve immediate attention.

3. Whenever possible, "Do lunch."
I just love being able to say, "Lets do lunch." While it is probably more beneficial to go to lunch with the people you work with, I find that it helps your status to show you have friends and a life outside the company. So whenever possible [aka I've done this twice], make it known that you have a lunch date at 12:30.

4. Schedule your own meetings.
Meetings with other interns can sound official if you forget to leave off the "intern" part. This also gives you some feeling of control over your day. As an intern you are pretty much required to stop what you are doing at the drop of a hat to carry out whatever task that has been thought up in the moment. If you enjoying having a clear idea of what lies ahead, "intern" is not the title you want. So to rebel against the system, take the steering wheel [the kind that come in Drivers Ed cars with the extra break pedals on the passenger side, of course], and tell them about your important meeting on the 3rd floor at 2:30.

5. Befriend the "little people."
Most go getters want to go straight to the top and become buddy buddy with the big wigs. I personally enjoying mingling with the behind the scenes people- the ones who secretly keep the company running on a day to day basis. I've found that these are the people who can make the not so glamourous intern duties, less painful. Knowing the secretaries saves you the trouble of wandering aimlessly squinting at name plates. Knowing the catering guys gets you the "give this girl a double" comment at the office happy hour. These may not be the people who will get me a job, but they are the people that help me survive the one I'm in.

6. Make your own hours.
I don't have a 9-5 job. In fact I don't technically have "hours" that I keep. I try to roll into work in the middle of the pack anywhere between 9:30-9:45, not the the first, but not the last. The problem is by the time 5pm rolls around, my brain has checked out, mostly due to inactivity. The first week I felt obligated to stay until 6ish along with the rest of my team, but lately I've been testing the waters and packing up around 5pm. I'm an intern, who needs more copies past 5pm?

7. Make "long-term" projects long-term.
Interns have brains the size of peas, at least that is the common conception. Most of the projects I've been assigned involve filing, copying, delivering, or organizing. Each of these projects has been labeled "long-term" by my employers. Being the overachiever that I am, I ignored this label. I finished each project with speed and accuracy, mainly because I figured the faster I finished them, the less time I would have to spend organizing and filing. It wasn't until recently that I caught on to the error of my ways. In any office, I'm sure there is an endless amount of mindless work just waiting to be tackled. No intern can finish that in a week... so heed my advice, when it comes to this sort of long-term project, take your time, because there is always more where that came from.

All of these lessons probably make me sound like a slacker, but I'm calling them what they are- survival tactics. As an intern, you are at the bottom of the totem pole, and you have to channel all of your inner strength, humor, and wit to climb your way up. But at the end of the day, you just have to realize- despite your intern status- sometimes you just got to do what you want.

View From The Top.

I had to take a picture of this because I couldn't quite figure out what it said... Apparently they ran out of billboard space in New York, so Heineken took to the skies.

I wonder what the media spend on this kind of air time is?

Almo'oonds.

I'll admit, I'm definitely not the most thrilling person you'll ever meet... especially when it comes to what I eat for lunch. For a large portion of my life, I brown bagged it. My lunches were predictable and I loved them.

Some things never change. Since starting work in the city, I've been frequenting the same lunch venue (occasionally even on Saturdays...) They have what I like to call this "Subway" for salads concept going on where you can choose all of the mix-in options and they make it in front of you. So everyday I go and I order the same salad. But recently I've sort of become addicted to this place because I am fascinated with the man behind the salad counter.

Since I don't know his name, I will refer to him as Mr. Almo'oond because whenever I ask for almonds in my salad he always repeats the word back to me as if asking me a question, almo'oonds? [this spelling is my attempt at his accent]. So every day I order almonds, almost as an experiment at this point, to see if he'll repeat it back to me. I'm starting to question whether it is him or myself who pronounces the word incorrectly.

However, lately my experiment has been taken to a new level. Mr. Almo'oond, has started to chat with me as I'm order, which means he definitely remembers me. We've discussed a number of subjects [my excitement to leave New York, being from Virginia, Bon Jovi, the public waterfalls- you name it, we've discussed it] but for some reason I'm still getting the almo'oonds question. It's like he can retain all this other information about me, but still feels the need to question my choice of nut in my salad. I don't know what this all means, but I'm starting to think I might have to eat a whole lot of almonds to find out.