Results tagged "Education"

Wow, almost 5 entire days of not blogging about myself…

And I know that image is weird right… it’s me (!) standing behind my son looking into a magic mirror with a waving NASA astronaut… and while Will keeps hitting the button to make it reappear, saying “Hi Hi Hi Hi” back to the static image… I’m all like — this thing is F’ing CRE-EEE-EPY. That’s right… That’s FEAR behind my eyes — don’t let the fake smile fool you… I was about a half a second short of grabbing the boy and launching the next kid to run past me into this thing. It’s all… you are getting sleepy… you will keep hitting the button.. you will keep waving… you will be an astronaut… you will tell Obama to bring back NASA… You are the future… You will have to carry me on your shoulders… And then I realized that maybe this was just that annoying astronaut that the space shuttle forgot to mention and then left in space to fend for himself during their LAST MISSION EVER. He must have found a worm hole in the vectosphere and transported himself here to us… And then I started waving.

I spent the better part of this week attempting not to write blog posts about anything. Which… as you can see with the lovely guest posts, I had to add something about myself to each one… HOW ANNOYING AM I? But while I wasn’t attempting not to post, I designed a few things, cooked a few things, thought about organizing a few things… I took Will to the Children’s Museum of the East End (aka CMEE) — which is always a good fall back on rainy days if you can stand the wild screams of about 250 kids of all ages in an enclosed space with OTHER MOMS that are all looking at you in equal bouts of confusion mixed with terror. It was fun though… Here’s Will trying to stand still:

And when this was all said and done (about 45 minutes later… come on people, even I have a THRESHOLD) we headed on over to Banana where I spent a short mint while Will attempted his first heist and got caught stealing via door alarms. I dove to catch him as he grabbed the ugliest floral scarf he could find and shot like any ordinary escapee would… only I caught him on my way out the door holding an armful of overpriced crinkle prints, thus setting off my own set of store wide panic… Good times.

But at the end of this week of nonstop, I really want to thank Elly, Mandy and Kenny (you guys really should start a band called the Ys) one more time for paying us a visit… Because aside from working, playing and stealing, I also took the time when I would ordinarily be sitting at the computer (by choice mind you) to go out and appreciate some of the blooms that we have been waiting for…

Ten years ago — if someone said to me.. “the twitter widget on your blog is broken” or “you should add more plug-ins to your directory” I probably would have gasped in horror and slapped them across the face…

But that was 10 years ago.

Now, I have a very intricate knowledge of what needs to happen when it comes to widgets, plugins and all things BLOG, and I have to say that — although I wasted years of learning all about coding and html — the useless this will work and this won’t of web designs…  Blogging really is the new internet… And I have come full circle with what of ME is ON and OFF the great abyss of W W W. But I think a little blogging history and explanation is needed for the point I’m trying to make…

Because I am not without fault. For The Birds, as I have mentioned, was initially started as a chronicle of sorts about Breakwater Design Studio. I think it took about 10 minutes of me, online, typing before I started to stray away from the focus and more on the everyday. Then I needed more. So I moved For The Birds to a platform called Movable Type… which, as it turns out, you have to be a major programmer to work with… which I pride myself on NOT BEING. Whatever, I did it anyway… and now that I have readers (that I love) and a sweet little place online to call my home — I want more. But how do I get more with the limited knowledge of stuff that I don’t want to know about anyway? Well… I’m on track with trying to figure that out whilst kicking myself for not doing the research before signing over my first born blog to Movable Type… Oh we’ll get over ourselves eventually. Maybe.

So then.
When I found myself all wrapped up and unraveled with Will’s food allergies and having to cook and bake and rewrite recipes on an almost daily basis, I started Will’s Kitchen. Humbled and embarrassed and all kinds of proud, the site was started in January of this year and has already had well over 100,000 hits. And by hits I mean strong 10 minute stays on almost every page of the site — and we’ve only published 31 posts. I even get a few glances from Katonah, NY every once in a while which makes me think that we might be onto something.. hhm Martha?

But when it came time for me to decide what to do about… well — ME, it took a strong bout of food poisoning to make me realize that I need to have my work online as well. Breakwater Design is long gone, thank goodness, AND, I’ve done way more stuff in the history of me on top of it all… my portfolio of work is so extensive — designs, photographs, interviews, blog posts… I was kinda feeling like I was drowning so I called up my good friend Internet who was all like “…niggas always gotta high cap
Showin’ all his boys how he shot em
But real gangsta-ass niggas don’t flex nuts
’cause real gangsta-ass niggas know they got em
And everythings cool in the mind of a gangsta
’cause gangsta-ass niggas think deep
Up three-sixty-five a year 24/7 ’cause real gangsta ass niggas don’t sleep“… to which I responded “I KNOW – YOU’RE SO RIGHT!” and immediately came up with Ry Sal Creative. I know, I know, kinda campy – kinda full of your self… not to mention, my Dad thinks it sounds like Sally and Bob’s Nail Salon or Nick’s Pub where your feet stick to the floor. But whatever – IT IS WHAT IT IS. And it’s gong to be fabulous. And, it is and isn’t a blog… you decide and let me know… and in the meantime… try these blueberry muffins because Martha is in Malaysia and therefore isn’t reading Will’s Kitchen right now… because gangsta-ass niggas come in all shapes and colors Some got killed in the past
But this gangtsa here is a smart one
Started living for the lord and I’ll last
Now all I gotta say to you
Wannabe, gonnabe, pussy-eatin’ cocksuckin’ prankstas
When the shit jumps off what the fuck you gonna do
Damn it feels good to be a gangsta.

(sorry mom)
 

… And then I’m in my elementary school stair well panicked because I am realizing that I have never been to a class that is now on my schedule which means that I will probably fail. And of course my feet are stuck to the ground even though I can see the classroom at the top of the stairs and it appears chaotic. But I’m really 16 years old and this is a high school history course being taught by one of my college professors who, in real life, would hang out with us in bars. But isn’t this real life? I suddenly realize that the stairs have turned to nothingness and I’m standing on one stair that is suspended in mid-air and if I move I will most certainly fall to my death. Looking down I see our basement as I glance at the course schedule that is still in my hand. Balance. What was it that I forgot to do? And then there was the ringing — a familiar ring similar to my iphone although Kate recently changed my ringtone. And there it is again. And again. And then I wake up.

Battening, bracing… Bracing, battening…