Haw, Haw Haw............HHHHHHHHaw

Back in January, myself and 16 other students got together with our professor to create videos about sustainability and the carbon footprint. The name of the class, was "Planet Forward," and together we created these videos for the program, with the same name, in hopes of maybe getting our videos put on PBS.

The result, was not just an amount of incredibly epic videos, but we also created a bond that I will never forget. 

My purpose for this entry, is to just announce that I simply miss Planet Forward. I miss getting up at 8 a.m. and driving to class, just so we can storyboard, film, interview, and edit

to produce these incredible video shorts. I had no problem staying until 10 or 11 at night, because I was enjoying what I was doing, and I was with some incredible people.

My team, Brasso, made four films. One was about a local farmer's market, where we interviewed farmers about the importance of shopping locally and its ability to reduce carbon footprints/ Our second video was a man on the street interview, where we asked people in 

Boston, Providence, and on our local campus just exactly, "What is a carbon footprint?"

Our third video went towards a more art nouveau-esque route, where we created a horror film of a bathtub with flashing scenes of nature. The purpose, was to explain an article mentioned in national Geographic about the carbon cycle. The bathtub 

filling up with water represented the atmosphere filling with carbon emissions, and despite the fact that the drain was working, it was going at a much slower pace than the water filling up, so eventually the bathtub will overflow, 'drowning' us all. We weren't sure at first if anyone would understand this, so in order to explain it, we did a "Mystery Science Theater" theme and had our own silhouettes explain what was happening.

The final video, my baby, was about shopping locally, and we followed local beef from the farm to the plate.

 Ironically, that was the name of the video, "From the Farm to the Plate." 

But why write about all this now? Today, one of our members was casually posting photos on Facebook, and it really made me miss our class. I miss producing and doing things that actually do something. I'm tired of sitting in class all day and taking notes. I want to get out there and do something, anything.

I guess to make this short, I'm ready to graduate. I miss this class and being with my team (even though I see you guys all the time). I want to go back to Planet Forward where things were simple, and I want to make some kick-ass videos again. 

Team Brasso for life!

~Gaga

Wednesday Night

Ladies and Gentlemen, I am home at a reasonable hour!

Tonight was the earliest we finished the paper, at approximately 1:30 a.m. Super!

Anyways, since it's late, and I have an 8 a.m., this entry will be short, and since i just spent my evening making a newspaper, I will be writing a newsy form.

Top Story: Whitmore and Welch Invent a New Game

So during our break, Ben and I headed to the fieldhouse to toss a tennis ball and hit it with a wiffleball bat. We had no organization to the game when we started, but by the time we left, we had created a new game, "Tennis Ball Fieldhouse Extravaganza!"

To play is simple. The pitcher sets up at the center of the basketball court, while the batter sets up at the foul line. The pitcher throws the ball. If the batter swings and misses, it's an out. If they hit the ball and it goes past the center line, it's a point. If the ball hits the ground before the center line, the pitcher must successfully catch the ball to count as an out. Otherwise it's a point. If the batter hits the ball and it doesn't make it past the center line, it's an out. You play until one team gets ten points, alternating after three outs, just like baseball.

We threw in a few fun things here and there, like spinning before hitting and pitching, or just running around for moments with no real purpose. We plan on starting a bracket, making this a weekly game during downtime at the paper. I think the league could go places for sure.

In Other News: Phil Devitt comes to Visit!

Yes friends, Phil came to visit tonight. He had to bring me a form to sign to be sure I could get paid for my articles, but he also just wanted to stop by and say hi. It was like old times at the paper, especially since I was constantly distracted by youtube.

But what really made my night was that Phil finally developed the photos fromt eh disposable camera we had in the office for over two years. There were photos of Mike, Sarah, Phil and myself. We all looked pretty stupid, but it brought back some great memories. The top three are hanging on our wall now. Come check em out!

Peace!

GaGa

How does she do it?

About a month ago, after a long day at Planet Forward, Allison and I drove back to her apartment to relax before she had to go to work/my dinner date with Brian. I drove, and parked as close as I could to the apartment house.

Now, I remembered that there was a big area marked "No Parking" near where my car was, and made sure to avoid it despite the heavy amount of snow covering the ground. I mean, they never plow her street, so really you're lucky if you can even figure out where the sidewalk is, let alone a "No Parking" zone.

So we went back up to her apartment, watched an hour of Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations, then headed our separate ways. It wasn't until three hours later, when I was leaving Brian's house that I saw the BIG GREEN PARKING TICKET. Holy poop!

I started taking pictures, and shouted "Handicapped parking?!? This isn't a handicapped spot! 5:30?!? I wasn't even parked here until 7! **** St?!? This isn't...........ooo this was from before. Crap."

Long story short, while avoiding the "No Parking" zone, I parked in a  handicapped spot, and got caught. $100 ticket.

Per request of Henry, I decided instead of paying the money and forgetting about it, I would fight it.

So here we are, over a month later, and I just got out of court with the results. DISMISSED!

How, I still ask, did I get out of this? Well, I'm lucky, really freaking lucky. When I got there, there were over a hundred people there and I had to sit through every......single........ticket appeal. First was speeding tickets. Hour and a half later, they were done. Next was parking, but wait! The cop has to go somewhere, so let's do the trial of another parking ticket now. (At this point I'd like to note that the medium chai I had was coming back to haunt me.)

So cross legged, the parking ticket portion of the night began, and again, I waited as every......single.......person went before me. I was the last to stand before the judge.

"Handicapped parking, eh?' she said. "You screwed up, didn't you?"

I wanted to cry. I was shaking, I don't have $100. 

"Yes. I didn't realize this was a handicapped parking spot and it was snowing and it was dark and  I was really dumb and didn't pay attention and I'm really sorry I promise it won't happen again.......*breath*"

I really think all it came down to was the fact that I sat there for two hours. If I was one of the first to go, I would have been laughed at and sent along. I would have also been short $100 that I never had. But nope, I'm one lucky chick. I don't even know how I pull things like this off sometimes, but I'm not complaining. 

So, even though as a kid I complained all the time about how I hated how my last name started with a "W" and how I was always last to be called on, for once it paid off.

So, the moral of my story: The letter "W" is pretty cool.

Also, Fuckin' PAY ATTENTION TO HANDICAPPED PARKING SIGNS!

........you may not be so lucky next time Gaga.

I may be poor, but at least I'm happy.....

So I met up with my friend for coffee, a late night tradition for those who work in the architecture building at late hours of the night, when I came to a realization. Brian met me in the architecture library, where I was lost in my own little world, blasting music through my headphones and typing away at my paper for my World Arts class. He sat down and started telling me about the current project he was working on, and then asked me what I was doing.

I just sat there then started babbling.

"It's a paper comparing the writing styles and analysis of various books on world art. I have to discuss the coverage of a different culture each week, focusing on how each author discusses the topic, and how can you utilize this for research......blah blah blah blah."

And Brian smiled, and laughed at my excitement and said "Isn't it great when you love your major?"

Stop.

Isn't it great when you love your major? Isn't it great when you love what you do? It really is. I never realized this until now, but I am happy with my choices in college. I mean, the journalism thing is great, really it is, but I know my heart lies with art history. Something about it has always caught my interest, and I can't even begin to express my happiness when I get lost in a book about Monet or Van Gogh.

Art is the expression of the artist, of the culture, it represents a part of history produced by an individual. It shows the viewer an image into the artist's mind. Even when commissioned to paint for someone else, the artist will always throw his or her own touch into the work, making it authentic, one of a kind. You feel what the artist feels, you can see into the artist's mind, and can incorporate your own feeling into the meaning. Art is meant for both the artist and the viewer.

Stop. I'm rambling.

So my intention for this entry is simple, I realize I will never make millions in business. I will never star in movies, or invent a cure for cancer. But I will do something I love. I will write, I will study art, I will travel. It will be amazing. I won't be rich, but I will be happy. 

This reminds me of a conversation I had with my guidance counselor in high school, where we were trying to pick colleges for me to apply to, and she asked me "What do you want to do when you're older."

I replied, "I know exactly what I want to do."

She said, "Great! What do you want to do?"

"I just want to be happy."

I think I'm well on my way.

The only thing left, is to begin

To those who know me well, they know that when I die, I will leave shoe boxes filled with used notebooks, which they can use to write my eulogy. I've always been the girl who writes. I always carry a notebook, and at any given moment, can be found jotting down some random thought that popped into my head, or vigorously writing about something that caught my interest. Sometimes I write personal stories, other times I make them up, it all depends on my mood.

So as I sit in my cozy dorm room tonight, surfing the same eight Facebook accounts that never change (because those people are probably asleep or doing homework like a normal person), watching reruns of Friends, procrastinating the pile of reading that I still have to do (and probably won't), when I stumbled upon my friend Lucy's blog. I read a few posts (very interesting) and thought to myself "Self, why can't I do this?" I mean think about it, I love to write, I'm scatterbrained beyond all reason, and my shoe boxes are going to take up space.

So, I've decided to start a blog. A place to organize my thoughts, and maybe even get some readership. You all might think I'm crazy, think this is the worst blog you've ever read, but I'm ok with that. It's a place for me to write, and a place for me express myself in writing (because let's be honest, it's going to take a while for me to that in the real world.) I intend to write about my experiences, as well as revisit some of my best pieces in my notebooks. 

So here we are now. my first entry. Now the only thing left to do is begin.