The title of this post represents my desire to make all my posts begin with lyrics to Miley Cyrus Songs, even when they don’t really accurately describe the contents of my post, besides sharing a number.

Anyway, to the task at hand: Melissa tagged me to this 7 random facts about me survey, so here goes!

1. I save every fortune I get in a fortune cookie. Sometimes, I take ones other people have gotten. I have quite a collection in my wallet that I love to bring out when there is nothing else to talk about. I have found that there are few that would actually be classified as fortunes. Some gems of my collection include:

“Smile if you like this fortune cookie.”
“Life is full of little decisions, like white or brown rice.” (How oddly appropriate…)
“Keep on Keeping On.”
“Draw up on a budget and figure out how to cut down on your debt.” (This isn’t really a fortune so much as financial advising…)
“You need to forgive that person today. Just believe me.” (What?!)
“Today you are wiser than usual, and also less anxious.” (I don’t know why, but I always hear Dwight Schrute saying this one.)
“It’s one of those low-key days you’d rather just spend chilling.” (What am I do to with this kind of information?)
“What makes an apple fall to the ground?” (Um…gravity?)

The best fortune missing from the collection: one opened by my sister’s (female) best friend which she later told me about to my immense amusement. It read, “You and your wife will be very happy together.” Amazing. I love the assumption that she is both male (or a lesbian in California or Massachusetts) AND married. I don’t know which is more offensive.

2. I have had two pets named after television characters. I’m sure I’ll have more in the future. The first was my beloved cat, Chandler, who sadly died my freshman year. The second is actually my mom’s dog, but I got to name her. I picked the name Sookie. I think both sound appropriately enough like pet names. We almost named my other cat Phoebe, but we felt that bordered on obsessive, so we went with Chloe instead.

3. I’ve never gone through a rebellious, “I hate my parents” stage. Maybe I was just a great teenager, or maybe my parents are just the best parents ever, but even when I was mad or mildly bratty in my younger years, I’ve never wanted to rebel against or stop talking to my parents. In fact, I talk to my mom almost every day, and in high school, we spent a ridiculous amount of time together (as my sister was in college and my dad was gone a lot for work.) Last week, I spent an entire weekend with just my dad, and we had a great time. I try not to take for granted how close and amazing my family is. (Hi, parents!)

4. I’ve seen every episode of “Friends” multiple times. I can almost quote each episode right along with it; some i could perform as a one woman show without the aid of the show playing behind me. I also watched all but the first four episodes when they originally aired, which does mean that, yes, I started watching Friends when I was in 2nd grade. I was a very mature 8 year old. It also means that when I started watching reruns, I understood about 50% of the jokes for the first time. I had a very similar viewing/reviewing experience with both “Clueless” and “Dirty Dancing.”

5. The only thing that will prevent me from ever having a dog, despite wanting one, is the fact that I refuse to pick up dog poop. I just can’t do it. I’m getting all grossed out just thinking about it. This is also why I flatly refuse to be a helpful daughter and take my mom’s dog out when I’m at home.

6. I really miss dancing. I started taking ballet, tap, and jazz  when I was in first grade and continued with all until senior year and continued tap up until my sophomore year of college. I was on dance team for three years in middle school and took dance class every day at my performing arts high school. Now I’m in severe withdrawal. No other work out is ever as fun. No other work out clothes are ever as pretty. Sometimes in my room, I find myself standing in fifth position with my arms out in second about to tondue front or shuffle flapping through the kitchen ending with a little ball change once I’ve reached my destination. I really need to find some sort of outlet for this.

7. Sometimes, I feel like like I have too many friends. For real. More than half of my friends on facebook (over 500) are actual, real-life friends. It’s really bi-product of moving so much and having multiple groups of friends from everywhere I’ve lived. Let’s see: there are my neighborhood friends from Pittsburgh, my Jewish friends from Pittsburgh, my school friends from Pittsburgh, my school friends from Alabama (including dance team friends, theater friends, bestest friends), my Jewish friends from Alabama, my New Albany High School friends (all three of them…), my Reynoldsburg High School friends (Hi, Kaitlin!), my PA (that’s the Eastland Performing Arts Program) friends, my Syracuse Summer College friends, my camp friends, my college friends (including sorority friends, freshman year dorm friends, Bay State friends, class friends, LA program friends) and every other random person I’ve met along the way. This makes keeping track of and keeping in touch with people VERY difficult and makes it especially annoying with my mom goes “So how is random friend X doing these day?”

So there you go. Anyone else do/feel/think any of these things? Anyone? *crickets*

I have, for some reason, found it almost impossible to blog about the actual goings on in my life lately. I think I just wanted to soak up what could possibly be my last summer vacation ever (!!) without worrying blogging. (Not that I don’t enjoy writing about myself.) Now that I’m back in Boston once again, about to get into the groove of my last semester of college ever (!!!), I feel I should probably write about this past week, if only for my own memory (and to appease my dad who keeps asking about why I haven’t written about our trip yet.)

So two weeks ago (two weeks? I almost wrote one week, that is how much I’ve lost track of time and my life..) I got on the Plymouth Brockton Bus to Hyannis, MA (that’s in Cape Cod) to meet my parents. My mom attended a fitness conference to get certified to teach fitness classes, while my dad and I explored the town, rating each day on our cleverly devised Awesome Scale. We ate at a British Pub, various seafood joints, a Mediterranean restaurant, and drank wine with the other guests at the little Inn/Bed and Breakfast where we stayed. We took a 20 mile bike ride on the Rails to Trails bike trail, went to see Tropic Thunder, and wandered down to the beach with my mom’s dog, Sookie. We watched Michael Phelps win his 8th gold medal on the only TV in the Inn, located in the dining room in the main building (we were staying in the annex) and talked to the other guests at the Inn, who surprisingly, seemed to love their dogs as much as my mom loves hers, which I later learned stemmed from the fact that this Inn is the only place in town that allows dogs. It was really relaxing and nice to spend more time with my dad than I have, probably, since I left for college. Various pictures taken with my new 35mm camera (purchased for my photography class) can be found here.

Upon arriving back in Wilmington, I set out to get done the things I can’t (or can’t afford to) do in Boston. First up, getting a tetanus shot, as my school registration was blocked when mine expired. (Annoyingly enough, I was not notified of this when it happened and wouldn’t have known if I hadn’t gotten on to change gym classes. I would have just been denied entrance to my apartment when I arrived in Boston! Thanks, university! :/ ) This was sadly more difficult than it would have been for normal people, as I don’t have a doctor, since my parents moved while I was in college, and could not just pop in and out of the office. I, thus, had to go to a walk-in clinic, wait for two hours, be told that they didn’t, in fact, give tetanus shots to non-emergency cases (even though my mom had called and asked the day before and been assured that they DID give tetanus shots to people like me), beg them to give me one because PLEASE I HAVE NO WHERE ELSE TO GO, and then actually get my shot. Success! Kind of…

The next day, I headed to the NJ/Philadelphia area to hang out with some of my best friends from school, two of whom live very close to my parents and three of whom had come down to visit in a miracle of timing. We hung out on South Street and visited the Magic Gardens. I have to say, if you are ever in Philadelphia, GO TO THIS GARDEN. The name sounds crazy, but it really does seem magical. It’s an amazing feet of mosaic making. We had a little too much fun, spending hours taking photos in awkward and oddly serious poses, to the mild discomfort of those around us. (All with my friend Jenn’s new XSI. Me=jealous) After the Magic Garden, we wandered into a comic book store where Jenn, Lauren and I discovered this gem of a comic: It was part of some sort of series about tragic love “ripped from the pages of real life,” basically, romance novel comics. Every cover features at least one woman crying. This one was probably our favorite:

I haven’t laughed so hard in a while. We then went to eat at the deli I went to with my parents in July. I was almost as full as last time. After Philly, and after a midly frightening car ride where we sped a little too fast down curvy, hilly roads with my friend Mike riding in the trunk of the SUV, we got to Lauren’s house and decided to play “Men are From Mars, Woman are from Venus.” Again, I must urge every to play this game. I think it is supposed to stir up controversy between the sexes, but my friends are so awesome, we woud just answer the questions then all talk about how great of an answer everyone gave. We decided the five of us left would make an amazing group couple. Basically, thoughout the day, I realized how much I missed my friends over the summer, because it really was one of the best times I’d had in a while.

The rest of the week was a blur of shopping with my mom, getting my hair cut, vegging out, crying over the end of the Olympics (What will I do during the day now that I can’t flip back and forth between equestrian jumping and rhythmic gymnastics!?) and freaking out over my computer possibly dying. (No worries. The Genius’s at the Mac store fixed it up.)

Tuesday, I left with my dad for Boston. We, of course, spent lots of time discussing politics, as my dad is a mild conservative who likes to act like a staunch conservative to bug the crap out of me. (He made me listen to SEAN HANNITY for THREE HOURS [!!!!!] on the car ride back from Hyannis. If I had heard ONE MORE PERSON call up and say “Sean, you are a great American,” I was going to take my own life. My dad then laughed when I asked how he could listen to that crap, saying “I never listen to that. Are you kidding me?” Funny Dad, really funny…) When we got into Boston, we headed to my summer apartment, loaded up the rest of the my stuff, then headed out to dinner at my favorite restaurant, Picco in the South End, which stands for Pizza and Ice Cream, Co. How could that not be good?

Wednesday, I moved in, hung out with my uncle and cousins, said good-bye to my dad, then went out for my friend Jackie’s birthday with some friends from my sorority and Birthright. Again, it was nice to see everyone who I missed over the summer.

Thursday was intense apartment shopping day, at the end of which, I got to relax with Jenn and Josh while watching “High School Musical” (which Jenn had never seen!) and Obama’s speech: the ultimate awesome combination. (My favorite moment from the night may have been the text from my sister telling me she was drinking an Obamapolitan on the Baracks. Amazing. These are the reasons he should be president…)

Today, I’m back at work. I had my interview for the job. The actual interview went well, but there may be a sang with the whole me going to Australia for three weeks at one of the busiest times of the year thing, which obviously, is a non-negotiable situation. No job is worth me missing the chance to go to Australia with two of my best friends. I’m only young once, right? (MUCH more is coming on this topic, as it is getting SO CLOSE I CAN TASTE IT!) As I said before though, the interview went well enough, and the HR rep said she likes promoting from within, and that there are definitely ways to work around my schedule. As ever, I really have no preference for which was this goes. If I get it, it will be hard to do the job and classes and EVERYTHING, but it will ensure me having a job come January. If it don’t, I’m going to have an amazing last semester of college, and hopefully, I’ll find a job eventually. I guess fate will decide for me. I kind of prefer it that way.

And now that my hands are numb from typing, I feel like I can now continue posting at a regular pace (and legnth…) Up next, a meme sent to me from the lovely Melissa (my mom sent your brownies yesterday! Sadly, sans note, because I am the loser who forgot to write one before I left…), and details of my upcoming journey down under (aka to Australia…if that wasn’t obvious…ok, I’ll shut up now.)

First of all, I’ve chosen a winner in the No Pudge Brownie Mix give-a-way, or rather, random.org has picked a winner, and it is……drumroll……MELISSA! Hazzah! I’ve already bought your prize, so just shoot me an email with your address, and I’ll send you a package of deliciousness. 

Now, onto the task at hand: Inspired by both The Pioneer Woman Cooks and We are Not Martha, I decided to document my dinner preparation now that I’m in a kitchen that has working lights and isn’t infested with gnats. I decided to make my parents Swordfish with Pasta and Citrus Pesto, courtesy of Giada De Laurentiis, aka my Food Network Idol. Here goes: 

The ingredients, all found in my homeland, Trader Joe’s, include swordfish steaks, one lemon (or two small ones), one orange, basil, toasted pine nuts, olive oil, garlic, spaghetti, fresh parmesan cheese, salt and pepper.

First, start with the pesto. Of course, no pesto is complete (or is even pesto really…) without lots and lots of delicious basil. You’ll need to de-stem about three cups. Fun fact: your hands will smell like basil for the rest of the night. Gift or curse? 

Next, attempt to stuff all that green deliciousness into a food processor. 

Next, dump in half a cup of toasted pine nuts. You can toast these yourself, or you can just be mildly lazy and buy toasted pine nuts at the store. I, not surprisingly, went with the latter option. 

Next, take out the frustrations on your day on an innocent clove of garlic by thwapping it under your knife to get it out of it’s paper/shell situation and then drop that sucker into the food processor, too. 

Now is when you put the Citrus into “Citrus Pesto.” You want to zest a lemon into the food processor, preferably not with this tool I am holding, as it, soon after this photo was taken, resulted in a major cooking Fail, as all the zest ended up inside this little contraption, where I could not get it out. Luckily, I had extra lemons that I ended up grating with a cheese grater. I will soon be asking my mom for one of these so avoid future fails. 

Now, you aren’t quite done with the lemon yet. Cut that sucker open and juice it into the food processor too. We aren’t messing around here with the citrus flavor. In fact, go ahead and do the exact same zest/juice routine with the orange.

Now the fun part: blend this beautiful mixture until everything is finely chopped. Once you think everything looks sufficiently blended, slowly add in half a cup of olive oil until the mixture is smooth and mouthwatering..er…creamy. (This step, sadly, proved too difficult to photograph.)

You may have to scrape the sides at some point to make sure everything is incorporated. 

Then poor the whole mixture into a bowl, admire how green and amazing it (and you) are and set it a side. 

Now is the time when I had a minor panic attack about the mess I’d made thus far, so I took a small cleaning break before starting on the next few steps. (Can we also take a moment to stop and admire my mom’s sink…god, I love this kitchen entirely too much.) I’d also like the point out that after cleaning about half of this stuff by hand, I remembered that little appliance next to me was called a dishwasher and could do this for me. Can you tell I’ve been deprived all summer? 

After the dishes were stowed in the dishwasher (aka my savior), I began boiling a large pot of water and salted it to season the spaghetti that would eventually makes it way there. 

It was at this point I remembered I had forgotten a crucial step in making the pesto ridiculously good: the fresh parmesan! I grated a cup of parmesan cheese, more successfully than the lemon zest, on the cheese grater. 

I then added it to the pesto…

And slowly folded it in. Then, I again set it aside. Time to focus on the fish!

This fish could not be easier or more delicious. I’ve been making it for myself all summer. First, you want to make sure the fish is defrosted. Then drizzle olive oil over the top, and add salt and freshly ground pepper. (I’m sure you can use not so freshly ground pepper, but I like like using the grinder a little too much.)

After I did that to both sides of the fish, I noticed the water was boiling, so I added in the pasta and gave it a nice little stir to make sure it all got into the water alright. 

Next, I put the fish on the skillet which had been heating at medium heat for a few minutes. You can also grill the fish on a grill pan or, you know, an actual grill. I, again, just really like this special built in skillet. 

Once the pasta has been cooking a few minutes, make sure you grab some pasta water to save for later. Giada says it has all the starches from the pasta and helps thin out sauces without really thinning them too much. I agree, as I have no reason not to. 

After about five or six minutes, you’ll want to check on the fish and flip them if they are golden brown and have white creeping up the sides. At this point, you want to remind yourself it would be unsafe to test a piece of fish, because as delicious as it looks, it is not yet done. 

To take your mind off the fish, drain the pasta and put it back into the pot. Then, take that ridiculously amazing pesto and dump it all in there. Add a little bit of the pasta water to help break it up and stir it into the pasta. 

It mixed pretty easily for me, but when I found some large clumps, I just attacked them with the pasta water. Then I admired the beautiful color and the cheesy, creamy decliousness before me. Set the pasta aside and tend to the fish. Once the other side is just as golden brown, take the fish off the grill. Plating time!

As you can see, I almost made some roasted asparagus, which I also documented, but which I decided to cut for editorial purposes. (There were just WAY too many pictures…) All I did was coat them in olive oil, salt, pepper, and some Emeril’s Seasoning and cook for about 15 minutes at 375 degrees. 

I think my  parents were excited to come home to this instead of frozen pizza. All of it was gone in 20 minutes. Success!

Holy freakin’ ridiculousness, Batman!! HE DID IT!!!!! EIGHT GOLD MEDALS!

Now, this is probably the first and last time I will extensively blog about sports, unless the Steelers go on some ridiculous winning spree this season, but I have been SO into the Olympics this year, as it seems everyone around me has, and to be able to watch someone achieve something so incredible is just truly inspiring. And to know that I got to watch something happen that will be talked about for years is pretty cool. I just can’t BELIEVE he actually did it. 

I almost stood up and cheered on that last 50 meters, but the other people staying at this Inn may have been frightened, if they weren’t already, by my enthusiasm, so I had to settle for a big high five from my dad. I was literally SHAKING by the end of that race; I have never wanted someone to win so badly in my life (again, except for maybe the ’06 Super Bowl! Kick ass, Steelers!) It took me a good 15 minutes to calm down.

Is it sad that I take great pride in the fact that I watched every race live? Like that somehow makes me more a part of it? I think I’m just trying to use this as a way to end my summer on a high note without having to actually do anything. So while 8 gold medals is pretty cool, I have to thank you, Michael Phelps, for attempting to single-handedly turn my summer around. It’s a noble effort that few could have accomplished. And also congratulations on your thousands of Facebook friend requests, as noted by Bob Costas. That is really the biggest accomplishment of the day. (He passed J. Timberlake for Pete’s sake!)

(Oh, and quick PSA: Don’t forget to enter my contest for some fabulous fat free brownies!)

From time to time, I come across something truly awesome and amazing that I need to share with the world. Thus, I have decided to share these with the blogging world, and today is the inaugural post! Can you feel the excitement? I thought so. Here goes: 

When Lynn and I moved into our apartment, many things were not so wonderful (dirt, bugs, a stove that was always weirdly warm…), but the one thing that was wonderful was something we found in the cabinet: half a box of NO PUDGE BROWNIE MIX. At first, we read the box and scoffed. Brownies made with yogurt? No fat? Please, these have got to be disgusting.

Now, I consider myself something of a brownie connessouir. I have very high standard. No cake-y, dry brownies here. Nope. I’m all about the melt-in-your mouth, fudgy squares of deliciousness. There was NO WAY this box of brownie mix you can cook in your microwave could be any good.  

Then one fateful day, after tiring of getting ice cream from Emack and Bolio’s all the time, we decided to test out the brownie mix. While there are directions to make the whole box at once, we opted for the single serving option. It seemed more fun (and was 10 times quicker…)

So we spooned four tablespoons of the No Pudge Mix in a bowl with two tablespoons of non-fat vanilla yogurt, mixed, and microwaved for two minutes. What came out, I have to tell you, was close to brownie perfection. If you tasted these things without knowing where they came from, you might think they were real life, butter and egg filled brownies, but no! These babies will keep you slim…er, and they taste simply delicious. 

Best of all, while researching for this post, I’ve found that their website has tons of recipes to spruce up the mix, in case you aren’t a big fan of plain, right-out-of-the-microwave brownies. I, myself, enjoy microwaving these babies up in a big bowl, then toping the steaming hot bowl-brownie with carmel pecan soy delight ice cream. Mmmm….

So where can you pick up this wonderful little brownie mix? I found some at Trader Joe’s, the Mecca for cheap-grocery-loving gourmets like myself, but my mom also found them in her local supermarket (and was equally impressed with the results). To check out if the mix is available near you, check out their website. 

Luckily, if you don’t feel like looking, I’M GIVING SOME AWAY! That’s right! As part of this inaugural Amanda Recommends post, I will give away two boxes of No Pudge! Fat Free Brownie Mix in two different flavors to one lucky reader. All you have to do is leave a comment with your favorite dessert, and you’re entered! Easy enough, if I do say so myself. I’ll close the commenting Monday, as that is when I get home and could actually buy some Brownie Mix for all you people. 

Now, if you don’t want a brownie after all that, I don’t think you have a soul…or a tongue.

It’s extremely hard to come up with blog ideas when all I do is work and sit around eating and watching the Olympics. Especially since I actively avoid talking about work, because, you know, the horror stories abound. I will make a small exception now, as something vaguely important could possibly be happening soon, and as I have nothing else to blog about, it seems like a good idea. 

Basically, I’ve been a work-study student at the same place for two years. From what I can tell, I do a pretty good job. In fact, my boss’s last day was today, and when I said good-bye to her (prepare from some self-congratulatory posting…) she said they were so lucky to have found me to work there and offered any help she could give me in the future, as she is moving to New York, somewhere I could possibly end up. Basically, I’ve been working as her assistant when I’m there, so we’ve gotten pretty close. And I’ve loved working there, hence my unhappiness at the possibility of my work-study being taken away (an issue which is not entirely resolved yet, but which my boss has told me not to worry about. She says they definitely want me around for the fall and will figure out a way to keep me there.)

Moving on, my boss’s biggest suggestion leaving the job was to create a full time assistant position for her position, as she shared an assistant with the rest of management, while using me when she could. The company took her advice and created a full-time assistant position. The job description is basically a slightly more in-depth description of MY job,  just full time. My boss encouraged me to apply. She even read my cover letter for me. So I applied. And I got an interview. For a full-time job…that would start next month. Um…ridiculous much? 

This is so good and so bad in a number of ways. First for the so good: if I got it, I would have a full time job! Paying a lot more money than I’m making now! And I could stay in Boston! At a job I already know how to do and actually enjoy! Hooray!

The so bad? I would have a full time job. And class (sure, I am only taking three classes, and they include acting and photography, but still, they are classes…with grades…) And Bay State, the campus TV show I work on. And my sorority, which to be honest, I would probably completely blow off if I got this job. What I’m saying is, I would be exhausted. All. The. Time. It would be a lot to handle, and I really don’t want to have a complete breakdown my last semester of college. 

The double bad countering the so bad, however, would be if they hired someone else, because, honestly? They say I would still work there, but there would be almost nothing for me to do. I’ve been filling this assistant type position all summer, and there are days when I’ve had one project and then done homework for three hours. To add a full time assistant to the mix would make the lowly work-study student obsolete. I guess it wouldn’t be so bad to have a job where I had little to do and still got paid, but with the added responsibility I’ve gained this summer, it would suck to give it up to someone completely new, while I’ve been there for two years. 

I’m trying not to think about any of this too much, as I have no control over what will ultimately happen, and really, if I got offered the job, I wouldn’t even think about not taking it, so why dwell on the negative now like I’m weighing the options? It’s pointless. I’ll take the job if I get it, and I’ll deal with it if I don’t. I really just wanted something to blog about…

I hate feeling that no matter what I do, I’m always falling behind. I hate feeling like no matter how hard I work, it’s never enough. Mostly, right now, I hate my school’s financial aid office.

Today, after finding out I got an A on a paper I thought was terrible and kicking ass at a final I didn’t know how to prepare for, I found out that my lovely institution of learning thought it would be a good idea to deny my appeal for work-study, which they recently took off of my financial aid package. This, after I was told again and again that almost no one is denied an appeal if you have a good reason. Apparently working the same job for two years and only needing one more semester’s worth of funds isn’t a good enough reason. 

So tomorrow, I have to go in and tell my boss, on her second to last day of work, in the midst of all the craziness going on around her and the department, that the schedule I sent her last week of when I could work in the fall? Yeah, that’s not entirely accurate anymore. 

I just hate that the school can take away this job that I’ve worked so hard at, that I really enjoy, that could potentially turn into a full time job for me this semester or after I graduate. It’s like none of that matters. All the work I do doesn’t matter, because at the end of the day, all anyone sees is a number that doesn’t qualify (even though that number is ENTIRELY misleading, but that’s an entirely other discussion). 

My parents are telling me not to freak out, but I just hate that I have to go in and drop this obnoxious bomb on everyone, when they are already worried about who will be working in my department in the next few months. I also hate that I feel like I am issuing them an ultimatum, as I just applied for a full time position there that is very similar to what I do now. By telling them I don’t have work study, it’s almost like saying to them, “Hey, hire me full time or I can’t work at all! Suckers!” I know this isn’t my fault and I’ve done everything I could, but I still feel crappy about it, and it’s pretty hard to change that. 

My dad is calling tomorrow to try to reverse the decision, but I don’t know how much faith to put in that. My boss has also told me in the past that if I was ever denied work-study, they could do….something. I don’t know what, but again, I’m afraid to put too much faith in that. Basically, this sucks. Hopefully, tomorrow I’ll have some uplifting news about how none of this matters anymore because they reversed the decision, but I’m not holding my breath. In fact, I may be looking for a new job. Blerg.

First of all, thank you to everyone who complimented slash congratulated me on the move and the new design. I am super excited, in case the last post didn’t confirm that enough. 

Now, on to the task at hand: This summer has not been great for a number (read: a ridiculous amount) of reasons. To help get myself through, I have spent hours online thinking about all the things I could buy myself if my job paid me $200 dollars an hour instead of $10. Sometimes it’s purses. Sometimes it’s shoes. But most of the time, it’s electronics. I blame all you bloggy people with your iPhone google readers, and your twitterberry, and your damn beautiful pictures on your lovely DSLR cameras! Damn you all! *breathes*

So here, for all of you to see and possibly buy me, are the things I most desire: 

1) The iPhone. (Yes, I’m that original. Deal with it.)

First of, it’s sooo pretttttyyyyy. All smooth and sleek and touchscreeny. Who wouldn’t want to spend hours sitting out in the sun, browsing the internet with your fingers? Plus, it would be one less thing to throw into my ever expanding purse! And the fast texting, and the IMing: I could be in touch with everyone I’m so bad at keeping in touch with! Not the mention the constant twittering, blogging from exotic and exciting locals, and maybe even reading the paper on the subway without hitting the people next to me in the face as I attempt to turn the pages and fold the paper all at once. And did I mention….so pretty! But alas, it is still midly expensive AND I would have to switch to ATT+T which I’m so not about. Which leads me to…

2) The Blackberry!

The ultimate LA status symbol: I never really thought about getting one until I sat in bars while “abroad”, multiple times, as the only one who didn’t have her Blackberry out on the table, waiting for someone to BBM me. I felt like such a nerd when I pulled not my silver flip phone with no discernibly cool features. Again, it has all the perks of fast texting, browsing the internet on the go, and again, the status symbol thing. While not as pretty as the iPhone, I’m sure I could manage. 

3) The one I’ve been thinking about a lot lately (and probably the reason I wrote an entire paper this morning, two days before it’s due instead of on Wednesday or Thursday as I’d originally planned): A DSLR Camera – or more specifically, the Canon Rebel XSI. 

While I’ve been wanting to be awesome at photography for quite some time (in addition to my desire to be a great painter slash drawer, which will never EVER happen), I’ve always been discouraged by how my pictures come out looking ordinary and boring. After learning the basics of photography in my video production class last year (as filming is just photography with movement), I realized it was probably my camera that was holding me back from really improving. I upgraded to a new Canon Powershot, which is really an awesome camera in terms of point-and-shoot cameras. Then while on my trip to Israel, my friend Jessica had her DLSR camera and was taking RIDICULOUSLY amazing pictures. No matter what I did, mine still didn’t compare. (See also, my shots of Provincetown this past weekend. Even with Photoshop tweeking, they don’t measure up. I tried to take about eight shots of my friends walking down the street at night, and each one came out worse than the last. “IF ONLY I COULD OPEN MY APERATURE! DAMN YOU HIGH ISO NOISE!”)

Adding to these growing frustrations was my reading the live blog from the Building Traffic through Content and Community session at BlogHer, which suggests getting a DSLR to add some personality to your blog. I realized how much I’d been wanting to do this, but couldn’t, because I never have pictures I feel are worth sharing. (One day I tried to take pictures of my walk to work, which is really a beautiful walk, but they were nothing like I wanted them to be, so they are sitting on my computer doing nothing instead of here, as part of the witty and stunning post I’ve composed in my mind.) I realized some of my favorite bloggers are my favorites because of their photography. I then started getting obsessed with looking at these lovely ladies’ photographs, again getting jealous and wishing I could capture my life in the ridiculously beautiful way they capture theirs. 

Basically, what this leads to is the past week of my life, researching cameras, having my friend Jen take me to Best Buy (where she works) to show me the camera I’ve been thinking about (said Canon XSI) and me taking better pictures of her standing in the store on this camera than I have ever taken with any of my point-and-shoot cameras. I obviously have to have one. 

If only I got paid $200 an hour, it would only take me five hours to earn one. 

In the meantime, I am taking a photography class this fall, where we shoot on 35mm film cameras and develop the photos ourselves. (I may or may not be a little too excited to spend time in a dark room.) I figure if my thoughts are correct, if with the right tools I can take some quality pictures, I’ll attempt to upgrade to the DSLR with some money (maybe birthday money?) to be stolen found at a later date. 

I was going to write about how if I got a new DSLR camera I could clearly need a new Macbook Pro to handle all the RAW pictures I’d be uploading and editing, which my computer now clearly could not handle as Safari “unexpectedly quit” twice while I was writing this entry, but I think if my parents read this, they will have a heart attack, so I’ll stop now.