About a month ago, before I became deathly afraid of writing comprehensive blog posts regularly, I wrote an overheated little ditty about the importance of colleges encouraging entrepreneurship on their campuses.
My editors must have sensed the entrepheremones or something, because they assigned me a guide to write called “How to Start a College Entrepreneurship Club”. I talked to a dude who started Hopkins Student Enterprises, which launches fully formed business ideas on campus, to a professor who’s the chair of entrepreneurship at Bradley, and to the dean of the conservatory at Oberlin, who was one of the starters of their entrepreneurship program, Creativity & Leadership (I’ve had an eye on that program for MONTHS, because they’re having their students create Oberlin bookstore apparel). Cool thing one: I had three lively conversations with three smart people that had polar opposite phone conducts. Cool thing two: they all gave me advice I wasn’t anticipating, all the while reiterating what I’ve learned so well this summer: small startups are back with an 808.
In this episode, your author will ostensibly use local periodical Philadelphia magazine as a jumping off point to talk about drug culture in his region.
I’ll start by saying I know very little about drug culture in my region. Really. But Philly mag’s most recent cover story certainly grabbed my attention. The cover itself features a giant green seven-pointed leaf on a black background and, emblazoned in big white letters across the top of the layout, the declaration “POT IS BACK.”
Strangely enough, my mom brought it to my attention (“I saved this for you; I thought you might like to read it”) and read it closely I did. The story itself isn’t that wonderful or interesting, but the fact that a well-respected regional magazine would be bold enough to put something like this on the cover is both wonderful and interesting.
One of the best thing about a farm is that it seems to be about as far from bureaucracy as we can get. There are a number of definitions for the “B-word”, my favorite being : government characterized by specialization of functions, adherence to fixed rules, and a hierarchy of authority (As provided by Merriam Webster). On a farm I make the rules and I get to make the really key decisions, like whether to use hardwood or pine mulch or whether to believe the gas gauge on the tractor when it quivers towards (E). The real world however,the one that survives on petroleum, paperwork and staples, is a bureaucratic mine field; the rewards look enticing but there is always something hidden beneath a bureaucratic sheen to blow a leg off.
I’ve seen my fair share of amazing fireworks and been to a handful of crazy 4th celebrations but seriously, none top being in DC. If all you want to do is visit DC, try to get your travel bug out during this time of the summer. The whole city has been teeming with interesting people, cool (free) activities, and this buzz of energy.
On the actual Independence Day I woke up early to try to get a spot on the National Mall. I’d heard over and over again by my supervisor at work, residents of DC, and professors that you “need to get there really early to get a good spot.” By really early, they did NOT mean 10:30, which is when I got there, they really meant 3:00 pm. Whoops. Continue reading →
New York City may be the vermin capital of the United States. The city teems with creatures so filth-ridden and depraved they nearly defy enumeration—rats, cockroaches, Collegiate alumni. Out of the corner of one eye, you see something emerge from a crack in the wall, scurry across the room, buy your friend a drink. It’s enough to make your skin crawl. Continue reading →
Amidst cries of “out of the sidewalk, into the street” and “si se puede,” with American Hi-Fi’s “Flavor of the Weak” stuck in my head, as I threw my fist into the driving bullet-sized rain and pulled parsley leaves off their stems, as my neighbor Adrian compared Nas’ Illmatic to a sister, as I woke up and wondered whether it was 6 AM or 5 PM, as I microwaved pizza and cooked shrimp scampi for girls I barely knew, as I interviewed a massage therapist, I realized my summer was half gone.
So far it’s mostly been me dreaming about carrying plates to tables populated by the wealthy, with an element of me trying to fit the things I am interested in (yelling about immigration reform while it rains; bands; skateboards) into a hyperlocal newspaper. It has also involved a lot of me meeting the seals that live outside the aquarium. Also, I bought a skateboard, and I microwaved a fair amount of pizza.
My life in San Francisco has been a blur; I can’t believe that I have already passed more than half of the total time I will be here. As of now I couldn’t be a more stereotypical blogger; sitting in a cafe with my iced coffee, listening to music on my headphones. Since we last talked, I experienced Gay Pride Weekend…a crazy and colorful time that everyone should experience sometime in their life. Saturday night was a huge street party on Castro Street (the mecca for all gays in San Francisco), which was really fun until a shooting broke out. It was actually pretty scary. Somebody died and two people were hurt, which was sad and shut down an inevitably fun night, but the tragedy did not damper the celebration on Sunday: the parade. The parade had even more people than the craziness that was Saturday night. Think lots of glitter, gays, and Gaga. What more could you ask for? Needless to say, it was impressive that everyone could rally to create an extremely loving and progressive event in the midst of the tragedy of the night before. Not only was the parade great, but the Backstreet Boys were Celebrity Grand Marshalls and performed afterward, delivering their famous “I Want it That Way” and “Quit Playin’ Games (With My Heart),” which broke the hearts of teenage girls everywhere. Unfortunately Kevin was missing, so I guess we didn’t really get to appreciate the full Backstreet Boys experience. All in all it was a great weekend, and the residual glitter all over my apartment is just the icing on the cake.
I would like to warn all readers that the following story will most likely be severely embellished in order to both keep tension high and up my word count. Nevertheless, this small story, as insignificant as it may eventually seem was mere inches away from changing my ambulatory lifestyle. I currently stand proudly on two legs a reminder that I am very lucky, as well as a danger to all living creatures when armed with a chain saw.
I also would like to apologize to my favorite pair of Levi’s: you served me well, but in the end the STIHL won.
Upon returning home yesterday evening, I found that after trying to unlock my door with my key, my door wouldn’t budge. Talk about a predicament. Trying to thumb through reasons why my key may not be working, I could only imagine that my door was jammed. So, I started thinking of my options. I went downstairs to call my landlord – but shortly realized that I only had the number for her office and conveniently left her cell phone number inside my apartment where it would be of no service to me. Considering it was about 7:45, and she wasn’t answering the phone, I concluded that she had gone home for the day. Next, I called the emergency number posted on the outside of our building to try and reach the building superintendant. No response. Continue reading →
One of my favorite things to do in Paris is to walk aimlessly with no plan or agenda. Since the metro has been unbearably hot the past week given the serious heat wave (and you know it’s hot when a Californian says it’s hot), I’ve taken to walking places to try and catch a little breeze. Yesterday I got out of work a few hours early, and started walking in the direction of my apartment in search of nothing in particular aside from a store with air conditioning.
Just to clarify, my fellow co-workers and I had just spent the previous three days doing inventory and only left early because we finished ahead of schedule. For those of you who haven’t worked in retail…this means scanning and accounting for every single item in the store…it’s a painfully slow and tedious process, but necessary nonetheless. And I must say, I think it was helpful for me to be able to familiarize myself more with some of the books we have. But where was I… Continue reading →
