Poetry in Motion

"Horses are expensive, addictive and will impair your ability to use common sense."

2011-10-10T12:52:00.000-07:00

[A teenage version of myself, showing my paint gelding, Tuff Stuff.]

I am now a staff contributor to Horse Junkies United, an International horse blog covering every inch of the equestrian sports world. It took a minute for me to find the joy in writing about business related topics once I made the jump from crime reporter to biz reporter, and writing without pressure for this blog helped me rediscover why I do what I do.

Horses have played a large part of my life since I was child. From growing up owning them, to competing on my college teams, and facing the loss of not only a pet but an athletic partner, I am completely devoted to the sport. As a young professional, riding is my outlet --I look forward to getting dirty and sweaty at the barn when I leave this cubicle everyday.

In St. Augustine, I was able to find a niche for myself exercising a barn full of horses and giving lessons to young riders. It turned into a profitable part time position, one which taught me more about being a role model for young girls and testing my knowledge about horses than I ever thought possible. But man, was it hard work.

Although I have found some great horses to ride and train in Fort Lauderdale, I'm excited to see where this blogging experience may take me. Living in South Florida, I am in the hub of the professional Hunter/Jumper circuit, and have the opportunity to cover the Winter Equestrian Festival as a writer for HJU. It's been a lot of fun so far and I'm looking forward to the future I have with the blog.

Here are some of the stories I've written so far:

Riding on the beach is no exception for disaster

Being young and loving horses... then University comes and messes it all u p

Don't be a selfish horse owner

Therapeutic Riding - How horses help change lives

Cuts, layoffs and more bad news

2011-09-09T08:32:00.001-07:00

I recently left my first full-time reporter position at a small daily in St. Augustine, Fla. I took a job at a much larger daily in Fort Lauderdale, Fla., where I’ve been for a little more than two months now. Last week, my past employer laid off 10 percent of the newsroom staff. What’s left is in shambles. When you’re already working with such a small staff, even the most minimal cuts are felt.

One of the best editors I’ve ever worked with was a victim in these lay offs.

In light of this, and newspaper layoffs spreading across the nation like wildfire, I give you this blog, referred to me by a friend suffering through all of it in St. Augustine, It details the emotional side of layoffs from the point of view of the Dallas Morning News - a massive and forward thinking news outlet that like the rest of us, is buckling under terrible corporate pressure.

Click here for an interactive map tracking newspaper layoffs across the country.

One of my favorite quotes from the site: “If the layoffs do happen and are anything as large as some of the chatter, there is a special place in Hell for whoever in HR or the legal department or whatever other layer of the corporation decided this w…as a good way to do this, shared by whichever of the top bosses agreed and issued the orders to stay silent. … Journalists have a need to know set deep in our DNA. All of the previous layoffs, the bosses gave us enough advance notice to let us plan and to satisfy some of that inbred curiosity. To leave us this time with nothing but rumors that have been impossible to validate was a needless cruelty.”

Connected

2011-07-09T17:55:00.001-07:00

This is Gallie, a stocky quarter horse mare I worked with regularly out at the farm in St. Augustine. Her owner is a college student and had been out to see her twice in the past two years, all while her parents continue to pay board for the animal to live there. I started working with her because the farm was in need of a good lesson horse and we wanted to see if Gallie could play the part.

The first time I tried to ride her, she reared up while tied in the wash rack, and tried to kick me while I put a saddle on her. Over the span of several months, I took baby steps working with her and trying to get her back in shape. She’s knocked me down, broke several sets of reins, and bit me, but luckily I was never seriously hurt.

But eventually, you could say I grew on her. Something clicked when one morning I went to get her from the pasture and instead of pinning her ears and sidestepping away from me, she nickered gently and came walking up with her head down low. She’d let me love on her, scratch her between the ears and stood quietly while I groomed her. When under saddle, she got right down to business and was a pleasure to ride.

I miss this mare more than anything. I can’t help but feel I abandoned her now that I’ve moved and she no longer has a person.

Wedding bells are ringing in the chapel

2011-04-13T19:49:00.000-07:00

Today I returned from a short, four-day trip to Jamaica with my family. My parents celebrated their 25th wedding anniversary this weekend by renewing their wedding vows on the beach. At this day and age where most of my friends' come from broken families, it was wonderful to be apart of their ceremony and see first hand through my parents what true love is really like.

Aren't they cute?

Goodbye grandma

2011-03-20T17:23:00.000-07:00

I've been blessed with a very supportive family. My parents, brother, aunts, uncles and countless family friends have always been there to support my every decision and offer encouragement for as long as I can remember. But I think my biggest fan, my biggest supporter, was and always will be my grandma.

A large chunk of my childhood was spent in my grandma's warm little home on Sawgrass Boulevard. There, she taught my brother and I the proper table etiquette and manners and let us play games on an ancient box computer in her bedroom. She would make us "mashed potato soup" when we begged for it, after creating the dish one afternoon by surprise when she added just a little too much water. We rode bikes around the block of her neighborhood, and swam in neighbor Bev's pool every summer.

She went to my chorus concerts, horse show competitions, piano recitals and school talent shows. She fought to come and sit through my long and boring graduation ceremonies, even though she was too sick and weak at the time to go.

No matter when I talked to grandma, whether it was during the short drive from her house to ours, over the phone while I was away at college, in a hand written letter, or from the side of her hospital bed, she always ended the conversation by telling me how proud she was of me. I can't remember one time when she didn't tell me how proud she was. Her admiration is my drive to do more and to be the best person I can be.

Even when grandma was being difficult, and I know we've all seen her stubborn side before, she always told me to "keep being a good girl" and "keep my head up." She was the first to call and congratulate me on winning first place at a horse show, and she along with my mom, was there to console me the day I experienced my first death -- a good friend in middle school.

It was important to me to say something here today at her funeral because I felt a special bond with my grandma. Not only for the time she spent with me as I grew up, but as a writer, she helped channel my passion for the written word through her own poems and short stories.

Although she may be gone now, I see her strength inside everyone of my aunts, but specifically my mom. She taught us all to love God and just to be a good person. She taught us to be strong and fight for what we want in life. But most of all, she showed us what it was like to be loved and how to love in return.

Until I see you again, grandma.

"May the road rise to meet you. May the wind be always at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face. May the rains fall soft upon your fields and until we meet again, May the Lord hold you in the palm of His hand."

"If a woman rebels against high-heeled shoes, she should take care to do it in a very smart hat”

2011-02-28T15:36:00.000-08:00

I revisited Barbara at her vintage boutique in St. Augustine again this weekend. I left with this hat, a traditional women's riding hat from the 1940s. I plan to wear to my friends' beautiful outdoor wedding this upcoming weekend. Can't wait!

Unfortunately you can't see the beautiful purple and gray feathers in the front in the picture.

Love ya dad!

2011-01-20T20:04:00.000-08:00

For Christmas, my dad surprised me with a new camera. I expressed some interest in investing in a DSLR type camera for work purposes and was more than ecstatic when I unwrapped a Cannon Rebel DSLR camera.

I'm enrolling in my first photography class next month, taught by a good friend, fantastic photographer and fellow co-worker, Daron Dean.

Although these first sets of photos aren't so great, you can check out my progress on a new flickr account I created. I'm also very new to Flickr and trying to work out the kinks as I go.

I'm looking forward to expanding my photography skills and adding yet another notch on my belt as a "backpack journalist."

Also, I love my dad.

This is UCF.

2010-12-05T19:05:00.000-08:00

The University of Central Florida ended their 2010 football season ranked as No. 25 in the BCS polls and No. 24 in the USA Today rankings.

This is a big deal.

I've never been a huge football fan, and part of the reason I ultimately chose UCF is because there wasn't a heavy emphasis on sports. We're terrible at most sports and play in a bogus conference (Conference USA) against other schools that most have never heard of. The rally by students for home games you see at Florida schools with big sports programs, like UF, UM and FSU is something that we as Knights never could match.

But over the four years I spent on campus I couldn't help get into the school spirit. As a freshman, students had to travel nearly a 1/2 hour to the Citrus Bowl on the outskirts of downtown Orlando (in a terrible area of downtown, mind you,) for football games. Although we never filled even a third of the large, old and worn stadium, students rushed the field when we snapped a 17 game loosing streak against Marshall.

UCF announced that they would be constructing our own stadium on campus my sophomore year. The first game at our shiny new Brighthouse Networks Stadium would be one for our history books. Although we lost to the University of Texas (who was ranked No. 2 at the time,) we held on all game, trailing right behind them (Thank you, Kevin Smith). The spirit in the student section during that game was unbelievable. We all sweat together in the heat of September, shaking our keys each kick off and singing our fight song until our voices went hoarse. Suddenly, there were 50,000 very loud and very clear student voices behind our football team.

During my junior year, I joined the Pegasus Mascot Team, combining my passion of horse back riding with my new found school spirit.

And as I senior, I went to almost every home game.

Now, watching the football season as my first year as an alumni, it's so awesome to see how well UCF is doing. I can't help but smirk that the Gators have hit rock bottom this season as well. Ever since I moved to a more northern part of this state I can't get away from the UF Gator hype. But let's check the polls, gator fans. I don't see you on that top list of 25. And it doesn't help that the UCF mens basketball team recently defeated UF at the Amway Arena, 57-54.

As UCF - the 2010 Conference USA Champs - prepares for the Liberty Bowl game in Memphis I couldn't be more proud to be a UCF Knight.

15 authors in 15 mintues

2010-11-15T08:10:00.001-08:00

A social-media game devised by St. Petersburg Times feature writer Jeff Klinkenberg for those of a bookish persuasion . . .

The Rules: Don't take too long to think about it. Fifteen authors (poets included) who've influenced you and that will always stick with you. List the first fifteen you can recall in no more than fifteen minutes.

Here's mine:

1. Dave Eggers

2. Bret Easton Ellis

3. Jonathan Sanfran Foer

4. David Sedaris

5. Milan Kundera

6. Cormac McCarthy

7. J. D. Salinger

8. Pete Dexter

9. Khaled Hosseini

10. Charles Bukowski

11. Hunter S. Thompson

12. Ned Vizzini

13. Nawal El Saadawi

14. Carl Hiassen

15. Tim Dorsey

Election Day.

2010-11-02T07:19:00.000-07:00

Happy Midterm Election Day. This is the second election I will be covering as a reporter. Although that means one long night of following the polls, waiting up late for results and making phone calls to candidates at all hours of the night, it's also very exciting. The story I write tonight is the one that will tell those in my community whether or not the person they bubbled in on a scantron ballot will be the one who will serve in office in the next coming years.

One of the first things I did when I moved to St. Augustine was register to vote in this county. I, like all other seniors in high school, registered to vote in my home county near the end of my high school career. But I didn't cast my first ballot until I moved to Orlando for college, where I registered in that county to vote in the primaries. And now, as a young adult, I find it more important than ever to get out and vote.

It's unfortunate that many look at my age group (30-something and younger) are the least likely to vote. Its sad, but true. There are so many uninformed young people out there - many of whom I went to school (whether that be high school, or even college) with. People are lazy. They don't want to stand in line, they don't want to read up on amendments they don't understand and then there are those who just vote the way their parents tell them. Not only is this embarrassing, but what does this say about our future?

There's some feeling of importance when you turn in that ballot. I remember waiting in line for hours to cast my vote in the past presidential election. And although I stood in a line that twisted around a parking lot, moving mere inches every few minutes, I felt good turning in that ballot.

People don't read and they don't care. And that scares me. But how do you reach an audience so complacent, so content with not caring about who is elected into office? Even I don't know how to begin to answer that question.

Happy Halloween!

2010-10-31T14:49:00.000-07:00

Halloween may very well be my favorite holiday of the year. This season I decided to go as one of Disney's most famous villians, Cruella Deville. I had a blast this year playing Ms. Deville and had even more fun collecting all the items to put together the costume weeks before.

I found a wonderfully quaint antique shop in downtown St. Augustine that sells and rents lady's vintage clothing from the 1920s through the 1960s. A very friendly older woman named Barabara owns the shop (and has for years) helped hunt that that perfect coat for my costume. I spent the afternoon playing dress up in her shop - just browsing the aisles of unique hats from the 1920s, trying on adorable heels from the 1940s and even flaunting a cute flapper dress. But the vintage clothing wasn't the best part - it was the stories Barbara had for each item she owned: either how she came across that particular hat in her lifetime, or how she wore that particular necklace on a date with a handsome salesman when she was "just about my age."

I hope that one day I find a time period or certain element of life that I'm so passionate about that it inspires me to start my own collection. The thin hallways of Barbara's shop are filled with more than just dusty old dresses from a lifetime ago, but the stories, moments and feelings from the past and their history that still lives on within them, in Barbara and in that store.

Keep it hid.

2010-10-10T10:59:00.000-07:00

I wrote this recently for Drift, a monthly music & culture publication we put out in St. Augustine. One of the more fun pieces I've written since I moved.

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Before Dan Auerbach was melting faces with blues licks on his guitar, playing arena shows on tour with the Kings of Leon and winning MTV Video Music Awards, he was a teenage bus boy at Gypsy Cab on Anastasia Island.
The Black Keys frontman has a strong connection to St. Augustine; not only did he grow up visiting the Northeast shores of Florida with his family, but it was his talented uncle, Jim Quine, a longtime St. Augustine resident, that inspired him to pick up a guitar.
“Jim has impeccable taste in everything, music, art, photography,” Auerbach says. “He’s just always been an inspiration to me.”
Quine taught Auerbach to play “Peggy Day” by Bob Dylan as his first song on guitar in the comfort of his Lincolnville home. There, they listened to The Stanley Brothers records together. The first time Auerbach ever took the stage was when he was 16. He played alongside Quine’s St. Augustine-based jazz band, the House Cats, at Washington Oaks State Gardens for his grandmother’s 80th birthday party.
“He even played a song he wrote that day,” says Quine. “I haven’t heard it since, but it got him going.”
Auerbach had little chance changing his fate and not becoming a musician. To fit in this family, one must play music, he says. At family gatherings, Quine would play bluegrass guitar with his brothers and sisters. Auerbach’s mother sings and plays piano in her own band in their hometown of Akron, Ohio, and another uncle plays guitar for his own getup.
“It’s just what they would do,” Auerbach says. “They get together and play music.”
His most vivid memories of growing up in St. Augustine are the times he spent with his family at Gypsy Cab.
“My dad’s first cousin, Ned (Pollack) owns the Gypsy Cab, so I have family in St. Augustine on both sides,” he says. “I remember Ned cooking all of us breakfast at the Gypsy Cab before they opened in the mornings. It was great, all of us being there.”
Quine remembers when Auerbach would take his guitar and play out on St. George Street.
“He was an obnoxious little kid,” Quine jokes.
Even though Auerbach is grown, has a house and family of his own in Nashville, Quine still plays a big part in his life, through family and music. Quine appears in Auerbach’s first solo record, Keep it Hid, put out last year by Nonesuch Records. The two even cowrote the first track on the album, “Trouble Weighs a Ton.”
“I wrote the lyrics and the original arrangement, but it wasn’t working,” Auerbach says. “So Jim worked on it over night and came back with a much better arrangement.”
Quine also played guitar on tracks “Mean Monsoon” and “Street Walkin’” on the album.
Auerbach gives Quine a lot of the credit for the evolution of his sound and recent success in the Black Keys, a blues outfit with Auerbach’s good hometown friend and drummer, Patrick Carney.
“I think his last album (with the Black Keys) was a breakthrough in songwriting for him,” Quine says. “Brothers is their best album. I’m proud of him.”

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WHO IS JIM QUINE:

Jim Quine sits on a couch in his naturally well lit living room one afternoon, a series of guitars lay slanted in stands, creating a wall of where the room ends and the next begins. The waters of the Maria Sanchez Lake at the edge of Lincolnville make up the view through the large windows of the front of his house. Many of his own photographs are framed and planted on the walls inside. Quine, a photographer and musician, among many other things, is at ease in his warm home.
Quine came to St. Augustine in the late 70s, fresh out of college and started a band. He had been playing bluegrass guitar with his brother while in college and even before, but began performing as a trio with new friends around town in St. Augustine. When he wasn’t playing music, Quine was working at archeology digs, locally in St. Augustine but also in Georgia, Alabama and even the Caribbean. His interest in history sparked a passion for photography and he has been shooting historical artifacts for history textbooks and collections ever since. Quine contributed to many books and magazines over the years, some of which published by the Smithsonian Institution Press and National Geographic.
“I’ve made a living off playing music before, but I’ve never thought it was a good idea,” Quine says. “Photography is much more lucrative and you don’t have to deal with club owners.”
Images for a project he shot in Cuba in 2003 sponsored by Leigh University are in galleries across the county.
When Quine isn’t inspiring others through photography classes or is out shooting photos himself, he’s playing music.
“Music is more than a hobby to me, but something a little less than a profession,” he says.
Quine performs around St. Augustine with two good friends in a jazz trio, the House Cats. If the band isn’t playing at Stogies or Sangrias, you’ll find them practicing at bassist, Joe Segal’s house. After playing around St. Augustine for more than 12 years, the band has become a group of well-respected local heroes in the St. Augustine music scene.
“We just play for our friends,” Quine says. “They’re always the ones in the audience.”

Its the little things

2010-08-17T06:21:00.000-07:00

The community pool area where I live has a few hammocks scattered across the outskirts of the pool area. I never knew how utterly relaxing an afternoon could be until I spent one lazily dozing off and reading in one of these hammocks for hours. It was such a nice way to unwind after a long week - there was a cool, salty sea breeze coming in from the nearby inlet. It made the tall palm trees sway gently and moved my hammock in a slow and fluid rocking.

It was lovely.

Meet my new best friend, Smalls!

2010-08-15T15:54:00.000-07:00

A coworker and new friend of mine found a litter of stray kittens a couple of weeks ago. After caring for them and getting them all of their shots, etc. they're ready to be adopted out. I never really considered myself much of a cat person, but after spending some time with the six little guys I fell in love with the runt of the litter. So everybody, meet Smalls, my new kitten. And my first official pet in St. Augustine!

REAX: Warped Tour coverage, Orlando, 7.25.10

2010-08-04T08:27:00.000-07:00

The sweltering 93-degree heat that plagued Central Florida last Saturday didn’t stop the tattooed and pieced youth of Orlando from lining up outside the Central Florida Fairgrounds early that morning.

Beat up cars with angsty bumper stickers, loud tunes and cigarettes hanging loosely from the driver’s fingers pushed traffic back for miles along Colonial Drive; the young and the restless anxious to get inside the fences that would would create the boundaries of the 2010 Warped Tour in Orlando.

There was no escape from the sun at the fairgrounds, which beat down relentlessly on Warped goers from all stages. Dark clouds in the early afternoon gave hope for a brief summer shower, but it never came.

Aside from the heat and lack of shade anywhere across the fairgrounds, I was disappointed in the size of the venue. I’ve only ever attended Warped Tour in St. Pete, but forced to attend the Orlando date this year due to personal scheduling conflicts. Vinoy Park in St. Pete is far superior to the Central Florida Fairgrounds - not only does the park offer a cool sea breeze and shady areas to rest, but there’s a hell of a lot more room. Everything about the venue seemed cramped - from the stages to the merch setup.

But I guess I shouldn’t complain since as of a week before the show, Warped Tour 2010 was supposed to be held at the indoor venue, Firestone, in downtown Orlando. To my understanding, the main stage would be inside the venue, with all other side stages set up outside in the parking lot behind the venue. Talk about a hot mess - there’s no way that would have worked out.

Part of the Orlando set up at the fairgrounds was on old asphalt roads, which thankfully did not cover areas (for the most part) where crowds gathered at each stage, but it certainly was not ideal for hosting mosh pits and death walls.

And I can’t help but feel out of place at tour like this at 22 years old. The average age of the concert goers around me was 17, tops. I mean, I felt as though I was grouped in the small percentage of Warped goers who could actually buy a beer. I remember being that kid, when mom would drop me off for the day in my Chuck Taylor’s and three-layered stud belt, but that time has come and gone. The crowds stay at that same age while the veteran Warped Tour bands, like Reel Big Fish and Pennywise, just get older.

But onto the highlights of the day.

Attack Attack: This metalcore band was the first thing I caught as I walked through the gates early Saturday. As one of the first bands to play during the day, the crowd was thin and scattered, but there were plenty of dedicated kids there to chant along with every song. I’m not very familiar with this hardcore act from Westerville, Ohio and just sort of stumbled upon them. They played a mediocore set and seemed to care very little about the small group of kids who watched them play. It was too early in the day for a band to play with such little energy, and their complacent attitudes on stage made for relatively boring performance. It’s understandable that they’ve been on a long tour - but Attack Attack needs to remember they’re playing for fresh faces everyday. Get your shit together, guys.

Streetlight Manifesto: I’m happy to report that this group of Warped veterans didn’t disappoint. Although it’s been quite some time since my ska hey days, it was nice to see these guys still following the tour and giving it their all on stage. They kept to their usual routine of encouraging kids to download their music for free online and giving Victory Records a hard time in between playing a mix of new and old tunes. The crowd that surrounded the main stage was quite large and it was fun to see a giant circle pit of happy-go-lucky kids skanking around the dusty field.

The Dillinger Escape Plan: These guys easily played the best set of the day by far. I’ve been a fan since the Miss Machine days back in ’04, and was stoked to see Dillinger really throw down in the midday heat on the main stage. To be honest, I wouldn’t have pinned these guys for ideal Warped Tour material. But they took to the stage and really gave it their all. Whether the the crowd was familiar with Dillinger tunes or not, singer Greg Puciato wasn’t going to let anyone just stand to the wayside. Puciato inspired pit after pit, and jumped off of monitors and speakers while the guitarists did backbends and leaped into the audience.

Andrew W.K.: Andrew W.K. wins the best party set of Warped Tour. Come on, it’s a no brainer. The crowd chanted “party! party!” as his support began to play, and W.K. eventually stormed on stage in his traditional getup: dirty white tee, dirty white pants, some sort of nike high tops and his long filthy hair dangling in his face. Cheryl, a woman dressed in a leotard, helped keep the party going as WK sang all of his party hard lyrics and even dabbled a bit on the piano. If there was one thing to take away rom WK’s set is that “Fish is to water as Andrew W.K. is to party.”

Bring Me the Horizon: By the time the this hardcore getup from the United Kingdom took the stage, the constant heat had really begun to wear down what remained of the Warped crowd. Bring Me the Horizon was nearing the end of the list of bands to play the main stage in the late afternoon, but then against they easily had the largest crowd of the day. As soon as the band took the stage, the crowd erupted into a frenzy. It was obvious to me then, that this was one of the most highly anticipated bands to see this year. Front man Oliver Sykes took the lead and climbed the guard rail in between the stage and the crowd, followed by two guitarists, and the band played the first song of their set hovering over their sweaty fans below them. The crowd didn’t need any encouragement from Sykes to stay alive - it was the rowdiest crowd of the day by far. But pits that extended around the sound booth and death walls continued, all while the band played a heart felt throw down performance on stage.

Living and learning

2010-07-12T15:04:00.001-07:00

Last week I covered my first fatal car crash for the St. Augustine Record.

Now, I've seen dead bodies before, quite a few might I add, while I reporting for the Sarasota Herald-Tribune last summer. So when I arrived on scene, I was certain I would know what to expect: the usual deputies roping off the crash area and closing the road, cars smashed, the occasional hysterical family member, a collection of bystanders and of course, the body bag.

When I arrived, the photographer who was covering the crash with me warned me of the scene ahead. I shrugged him off, feeling confident that I would be just fine since I had seen these horrific scenes all too often before. Not that this scene wouldn't be as tragic as the others I'd covered in the past, but unfortunately one can easily become sort of jaded when covering these things time and time again.

I can still remember the first fatal story I covered in Sarasota. My editors had me call the wife of this old man who had a heart attack while fishing early in the morning. It was terrible. I had known this man was dead for longer than his loved ones. Not only had I seen his corpse lying on the beach, but I had his wife hang up on me on the phone, completely flabbergasted that I would call at such a time. Needless to say, I cried hysterically the whole way home that day. And picked up smoking cigarettes that summer.

But back to this most recent story. As I shrugged off the photographer, we made our way closer to the scene of the accident.

An 18-year-old recent high school grad was riding a dirt bike on a residential street, less than a block from her home, when she was struck by a man driving in a truck the opposite way on the street. She wasn't wearing a helmet. It's unclear if the man was impaired in any way. Upon impact, her bike erupted into flames. She died at the scene.

While I stood in the hot afternoon sun in St. Augustine, alongside the police tape, neighbors began to gather, comforting each other as they realized the young girl from down the street was now dead. I watched as the deceased's father and younger sister arrived. Her sister shrieked and screamed, being held by other family members as her grief over took her. Her father fell to his knees and cried.

I'll never forge that, the grief and shock I saw on that family. It was terrible. I wore my sunglasses all afternoon to cover my smearing eye makeup as I silently sobbed at the scene.

I returned to the office to write the story that would make the front page centerpiece the next day.

That following morning my editor, the photographer and I were swarmed with phone calls and e-mails from people in the community disgusted with the front page of their newspaper. People wrote that I had "no compassion" for the family or the fact that they were grieving.

I felt horrible all day.

The last thing I wanted to do was hurt that family more than what they were already going through. Writing stories on accidents like that is something I dread -- but it's apart of my job, and unfortunately one of the most read types of stories in any publication.

I was thankful to find some of Shae's, the girl who died that day, friends via Facebook who shared stories with me about who she was. I was able to write a follow up story about Shae and her life - what she meant to others and what made her happy. It was the only story I wanted to write in this case.

The fact that I had to cover this tragic event still haunts me. But I'm glad I did. And I'm glad I was able to write follow up stories that made this girl more than just the fatal victim of a terrible crash. I plan to follow this story to it's end.

Although the process has been painful, it's also been a good life lesson, I guess.

Ratatat, LP4 - Album review

2010-07-05T12:11:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since I've written an album review, but I had fun with this one.

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Ratatat
Album: LP4
Rating 7/10
For Reaxmusic.com

I’ve always been a fan of Ratatat. Past singles like “Wild Cat” and “Spanish Armada” have always been no brainer songs on a party playlist for quite some time. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I have been out a hipster bar and one of their many catchy singles wasn’t strategically placed somewhere on the line up on the dance mix.

But then again, I can also see how some tire of the repetitive beats Ratatat mixes over and over again. To be honest, there’s not a lot of room to do something completely different when you’re an electronic based, multiple-drum and bass layering indie pair. LP4 sounds different and new but it’s still Ratatat - you’ve got to give them credit for never loosing that certain style that makes this group who they are. They’ve mastered a certain sound and always stayed true to it, just with each album they tweak it subtly.

But LP4 is a great installment to the Ratatat legacy. The music and the group’s growth just makes sense. But what LP4 is lacking is that kick that past albums like “Classic” had. I can’t find any beat on this album that I love, that I can’t get out of my head all day, or have to listen on repeat. If I had to pick one favorite track, it would be the first one, “Billar.” I like the build, it’s a great opener. The album at best, serves as great background noise. It’s my soundtrack of choice when going for a run, or writing long letters to my grandma. It’s something I don’t mind listening to, but an album I will easily skip over when grazing through album choices on the iPod.

Healthy eats

2010-06-26T10:28:00.000-07:00

Today I woke up early, excited to venture out to one of the two local farmer markets St. Augustine has to offer. Even though the locals here have told me that the summer is a relatively slow season for the market (the heat isn't so hot for local produce,) I was still interested in seeing what it had going on. I've been lucky to get involved with large farmers markets in Winter Park and Sarasota in the past - they've always been lively, full of all types of vendors (not to mention there's usually a waiting list to get in), have live music, sampling, and pet friendly. So this market had a lot to live up to.

Needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised with the farmers market, held in the parking lot of the St. Augustine Ampitheatre. It was a small, shaded walkway filled with a handful a vendors of all types, from organic produce farmers, to local tea and coffee shops, and those who made their own hand made goods and art. It was cool under a row of large oaks and there was a decent crowd wandering in and out of the tents they had set up. A group of six or seven or so had set up with their acoustic guitars and banjos and were playing traditionally country and folk music, which was nice. All the people I met were super friendly and it seemed like a really nice, close knit group who are out there all the time. Although pets were technically not allowed on the property, there were plenty of market patrons with small dogs in tow, and no one seemed to worry or complain about their company.

I ended up picking up a small bonsai plant and some organic pomegranate green tea, but also had an idea for a new dish, thanks to one of the guys behind the produce stand.

And here it is. It was easy to make and delicious!

Whole grain rotini pasta with baby spinach leaves, diced red (sweet) peppers, Parmesan cheese and creamy Caesar dressing. I sauteed the peppers then tossed it like a salad. It was wonderful!

New kid on the block

2010-06-18T17:29:00.000-07:00

So here I am: in a brand new city, a new apartment, with a real job and a pretty good distance away from everyone important in my life.

It's strange, moving to a new city all alone for the first time. I have to admit, this is the first time I've ever had to do so in my short 22 years of life. Yes, I moved away for college right at 18, but I was lucky to make the two hour move from the Tampa area to Orlando with a solid group of close friends. Scott, for one, (my best friend, roommate of three years and cousin,) and I made that scary move from high school to college together, and even lived the the same dormitory community our freshman year before moving into an apartment together for the remainder of our college careers.

UCF was such a wonderful time in my life. I met so many fabulous (and not so fabulous) people in college, and it was easy. From class and study groups, to being out at bars and events around the UCF area, to even being in downtown Orlando or Winter Park - there was such a strong community of young people in Central Florida. I was always comfortable, confident even, to meet people and think nothing of it.

But now that I am alone, trying to be confident in those first-time social interactions (The "Hi, I'm Justine and I 'm new here," kind) isn't quite as easy as it once was. There are many factors here however, for one: St. Augustine is not Orlando. This community is much smaller and has a more well rounded population in terms of age. Flagler College has maybe three thousand students. UCF had 54,000. The circulation size of the paper (which is smaller than the size of UCF's student body) I work for grows with the snow bird community as they move into the beach for half the year. Everything here is old. It's just taking some getting used to, I guess.

I just need to push myself to get out there and talk to someone. No matter how awkward it will initially feel. I mean, I've tried half-heartedly Facebook stalking innocent-looking enough young residents of St. Augustine, but I'm pretty sure there's no way to come off as anything besides creepy in those sort of situations. Thankfully, I have a handful of good friends who are making the trip to come see me over the next series of weekends, so maybe once I'm back in my comfort zone with them (as backup) I'll be confident enough again to approach people.

I never thought I (me, Justine - the fearless one) would be so apprehensive and nervous about putting myself out there. I'm a friendly, outgoing and sociable person. I really don't care much about what others (especially strangers) think of me. I've never regretted saying anything to anyone. But approaching a group of people my age in a Barnes & Noble cafe gives me the sweats.

Smokin' guns

2010-06-16T14:42:00.000-07:00

Today, I shot guns with Charlie Galambos, a 42-year-old firefighter medic with St. Johns County Fire Rescue. He is preparing to compete in rifle and pistol shooting events at the National Firefighter Games, which will be held in Jacksonville in November.

Meet Leo, my new boyfriend

2010-06-02T06:55:00.000-07:00

Meet Leo. He is the California sea lion I got to play with during my recent trip to Nassau, Bahamas. Being able to interact with a sea lion like this was unreal.

A proud new mac owner

2010-05-13T09:51:00.000-07:00

I purchased my first Apple computer this week. It's the new Macbook Pro. After four years of internships working with design programs at a variety of publications, I've been dying to make the jump from PC to Mac. So glad I FINALLY did.

I graduated!

2010-05-08T11:16:00.000-07:00

My roommate, best friend and cousin, Scott Dyl and I graduated from UCF yesterday with our Bachelor's degrees. Scott is moving to Seattle to participate in a leadership program with Apple Inc. and I am moving to St. Augustine to start a job as a staff reporter at the St. Augustine Record. I can't believe college is over!

Scott and I enjoying a dip in the Reflection Pond on the UCF campus after our graduation ceremony.

Central Florida Future: Downtown Orlando becomes ground zero for the graffiti artist collaboration

2010-05-08T11:13:00.000-07:00

Downtown Orlando becomes ground zero for the graffiti artist collaboration

By Justine Griffin

Under-the-radar art exhibitions come in and out of Orlando all the time, and usually leave without the talented artists getting the recognition they deserve.

The Pintura Project, however, which was showcased the weekend of April 23, was quite different.

This annual graffiti art event invites graffiti artists from around the world to do what they do best across 10,000 square feet of open warehouse space in Downtown Orlando. This event is more than just a typical art show — it’s a cultural revolution.

Pintura, which means “paint” in Spanish and Portuguese, has become an annual event in Orlando since its conception in 2008 by local artist Angel Carreras. According to the Pintura Project website, the event has brought in more than 2,000 guests over the past two years.

This year, patrons watched more than 30 artists design and complete their own murals on five different warehouses on Central Boulevard.

Artists and amateurs alike lined warehouse walls with spray paint cans in hand. Locals who came to see the art firsthand took turns showing off break dance moves to the sounds of DJ Eddie B Swift.

The smell of paint hung thick in the warm Orlando air as graffiti tagged not only the walls of the warehouses, but the windows, the concrete floors, fences and even an old washing machine lying in the trash nearby.

Vendors selling spray paint, urban clothing lines, food and drinks were scattered throughout the event.

Event goers watched as artists’ works came to life over the course of the day. The finished artwork remains on the warehouse walls still today and will stay until the walls are wiped clean for next year.

The goal of the project is to introduce people to the art of graffiti.

According to the website, “this raw and cutting edge American-born art form has yet to receive the credit and applause it deserves here in the United States.”

The Gender Gazette: The Ever-Evolving Role of Women in Art

2010-05-08T11:10:00.000-07:00

The Ever-Evolving Role of Women in Art

By Justine Griffin

The shape and lure of a woman’s physical form has been the subject of sculptors, painters, lyricists and other artists since ancient times.

Whether it be the disproportional features of the Venus of Willendorf, dating back to 24,000 BCE, the detailed sculptures of Athena and other Greek goddesses during the reign of Ancient Greece, or even Pablo Picasso’s cubism prostitutes in “Les Demoiselles d'Avignon,” women have the subject of scrutiny and awe by the touch of a paint brush.

As a modern society, we like to attribute much of the negativity women face based on their physical forms to the media; blaming what we see in advertisements on television screens and magazine pages is what defines what our bodies should look like and setting the standards on how we should dress. The focus on women in the form of art, however, has taken a different role.

After attending Nude Nite, a traveling annual art exhibit which celebrates the nude form of both male and female, when the exhibit swept Orlando in February, I was able to see first hand how an art movement today does not judge or set standards for women as it may have once did – it embraces the variety of forms we, as human beings, come in today.

The exhibit showcased hundreds of artists from around the country – showing the nude in a variety of ways. One artist showed the characters in Wizard of Oz, including Dorothy and the Wicked Witch in sexual positions. One of my personal favorites was a scantily clad-dressed Dorothy bent over a Twister mat.

Another team of artists created a silent black and white film depicting naked women showing off their bodies and talents in the form of dance. Fully nude and body painted models moved about the old warehouse that was transformed into an enlightened room of culture and art – showing off their bodies in live motion. Other artists performed live trapeze acts, hanging from curtains and swings attached the ceiling.

Artist and activist Linda Stein once said that “art is a powerful force for social change because of its ability to reach people at a visceral level.” I do agree with her fully on this, and believe that exhibits like Nude Nite are not only changing the way women are viewed, but the way “nude” is viewed as well.

Growing up in a Western society, we’ve been spoon fed ideals to repress our sexual needs, and that the nude is a private matter. Nude Nite went against all conservative views to show that our bodies are beautiful, and that we, as humans, and women are beautiful.

The Gender Gazette!

2010-04-27T06:34:00.000-07:00

Click here to check out the newest edition of The Gender Gazette. I served as the news editor of this edition, which is product of the Women's Studies department.

There comes a time, time to move on

2010-04-21T08:55:00.001-07:00

As I write to you this week, there is a certain anticipation, worry and excitement brewing within me knowing that in less than three weeks, I will be a graduate of the University of Central Florida. I've accepted a general assignment reporter position with the St. Augustine Record, and will be moving to the lovely and quirky small historic town in less than a month. Where has the time gone? The last four years of my life (which were the best thus far) have flown by. It's a blur to think back about when I moved into my freshman dorm, attended my first concert in downtown Orlando, went to class with a hangover for the first time. It all seems like it was yesterday. But here I am now, 22-years-old, about ready to embark on the real "adult" path - the 8-hour work days, paying all of my own bills and having benefits, like health insurance and a 401k plan.

It's really here.

It's a scary but exciting experience. I've worked hard during my time at UCF - my resume can more than prove that. Although I'm genuinely uncomfortable about the idea of leaving UCF, leaving behind the college lifestyle for a new adult routine, I can't wait either. I can't wait to only have one job to focus on (instead of four) and be able to use my free time to do things I want to do again, like horseback ride everyday, meet new people and discover new cool places. A new door has opened, and it's the end of an era. Good bye server job, good bye final exams, projects and papers. After next week, I am happy to say I'll never have to write an MLA style paper, bubble in another raspberry scantron or spend endless hours of frustration trying to upload a project to Webcourses.

So this post is dedicated to some of my favorite places in Orlando. It's time to reminisce on the good things, what I love about the City Beautiful, and really, what I'm going to miss the most (besides the people.)

1. Park Avenue, Winter Park
I've spent the last year of college living in Winter Park and have loved every minute of it. This fabulous city, suburb of Orlando, has a classic beauty and elegance to it. Not only because of the super rich people who live in this area or the beautiful and historic private college nestled in the heart of downtown, but because of it's citizens who do so much to improve the city. I've attended the Winter Park Sidewalk Art Festival, an annual festival that attracts hundreds of artists from across the country three out of the four years I've lived here. The restaurants and bistros that line Park Avenue are some of the best places to eat in all of Central Florida, and the atmosphere of the avenue is something you can't get anywhere else. It has a beautiful ambiance and is a minute's walk from Rollins College, the Morse Museum, and a slew of cute, independent clothing boutiques. The train that comes through Central Park is beautiful as well. There's nothing quite like this area anywhere else, and the times I've spent on the Avenue will surely be missed.

2. The Enzian Theater
I had never seen an independent film, let alone sit on a couch and be served a meal while watching a film of any sort before I found the Enzian Theater. This independently owned and operated small theater in Winter Park is gem for any artsy type. Not only can you enjoy a beer before the show in their beautiful Eden Bar outside, but you can order an array of crumpious dishes inside from the comfy couch you choice in the theater. The Florida Film Festival is just one of the many great events that keep me coming back to support this theater time and time again. I just hope I can find a similar fit in St. Augustine.

3. McRaneys Tavern
This has become the local watering hole for the staff of my college paper. After a long production day, I'd bet money you'll see the enitre newsroom retire to McRaneys for a beer. Although the bar doesn't serve liquor, it's extensive beer list far makes up for it. From its microbrews to the 20 plus specialty beers on tap, it's a fun, laid back bar to enjoy a drink or two with some friends. Although my dart, specifically cricket skills are horrible, it's always fun to play a game or two in the small bar.

4. Independent Bar
iBar has become a weekly ritual since I've turned 21. It's one of the, if not the best club to frequent downtwon. From free PBR's (until the keg floats) on Thursdays, to Friday nights out downtown, iBar is always a good time. It's the best place to boogie down to some indie music, no one's going to judge you about what you look like on the dance floor, and the bartenders are always fast and friendly. Since I'm at this bar all the time, it's easy to run into friends and acquaintances and even easier to have a good time and relax. I'm going to miss this place, and all the good times we had there.

5. Hamburger Marys
By far the most unique restaurant in Orlando. Nestled right on Church Street in Downtown Orlando, Hamburger Mary's, a gay friendly food establishment, is right in the heart of everything going on downtown. The food is simple, but delicious. But what makes the experience is the staff -- you'll easily find the most sassy gay man to take your order, or even better, be picked on by one of the many drag queens who host events like bingo on select nights. The restaurant is fun, colorful, affordable and you'll never have the same experience there twice.

Honorable Mention: Universal Studios
My parents purchased a two-year annual pass to Universal Studios and Islands of Adventure as a gift for me when I left their home and moved to Orlando as a freshman at UCF. I've renewed the pass, so I've had it all four years of my time living in Orlando. How many students can say they can hop on I-4 in between classes and head to Universal for a quick ride on the Hulk and Dueling Dragons? Well, I can. My roommate and I have skipped class too many times and taken a personal day spent at Universal Studios, enjoying the near-empty parts on a Thursday at 1 p.m. in November. It's been wonderful to have the tourist world so close and to be able to enjoy all it's benefits: like half off tickets to the Blue Man Group shows with a student id.

The political is, and always should be, personal.

2010-02-16T06:55:00.000-08:00

Throughout the last four years of my life here at UCF, I can honestly say I’ve found my voice as a human being, and more importantly, a woman. Taking women’s studies courses have not only helped to shape who I am today, but have also helped fine tune my personal beliefs. I am more confident now, and sure of what I believe in, than ever before.

I believe the “personal is the political” means it is vital that your political beliefs reflect that of your personal ones. As a young journalist, this is something I’ve struggled with personally for a long time. When studying journalism, you’re taught to put your personal beliefs aside, and report the news as objectively as possible. Since I’ve submerged myself so completely within my career of choice, it took me quite some time to remember that I do have a voice of my own, and there is a time and place for me to express my own personal, and political beliefs just as there is a time for me to turn it off and report the news.

“One of the most exciting things I learned in approaching people to write for the book is that people ay not be used to having their ideas recognized as important,” (Mitchell, 21.) When Allyson Mitchell said this in the introduction of Turbo Chicks, I immediately connected. As a member of the media, I’ve never been asked what I think, I just ask everyone else what they think. But I do have a voice of my own.

It’s important to realize on both an individual level and as a group level. As women, we need to come together to make our own beliefs and values heard. “Girlies motivations are along the lines of gay men in Chelsea calling each other ‘queer’ or black men and women using the term ‘nigga,’” (Baumgardner & Richards, 135.) Unfortunately for stereotypes, it isn’t always as easy as just banning together on common beliefs to be heard or respected. As women, are just yet another minority group struggling to have our voice heard and our views respected.

“You don’t have to make the feminine powerful by making it masculine or ‘natural;’ it is a feminist statement to proudly claim things that are feminine and the alternative can mean to deny what we are,” (Baumgardner & Richards, 137.) I think this is incredibly important when discussing the power of our own personal and political beliefs. We should no succumb to what society rewards as dominant, such as what is dubbed as ‘masculine.’ Instead, we should embrace what we know and what we have. "Using makeup isn't a sign of our sway to the marketplace and the male gaze; it can be sexy, campy, ironic, or simply decorating ourselves without the loaded issues," (Baumgardner & Richards, 136.)

Live blog the Grammys

2010-01-31T17:08:00.000-08:00

Live blogging the Grammys tonight. Follow me at @jgriffin88

I am the third wave

2010-01-17T16:24:00.000-08:00

The first time I ever had to sit down and really think about what feminism is, was in my feminist theory class I took my freshman year. At first, I thought the class was a little overwhelming. I wasn’t sure what to think of feminism. When I had discussed enrolling in the course with my mother, she expressed some concern. She told me that there wasn’t a need for activism like that anymore, and feminism was a thing of the past. Upon completing the course, and reading material from authors like Betty Friedan and Gloria Steinem, I couldn’t understand how my own strong, independent mother could feel like feminism was a thing of the past.

That course taught me that feminism is activism. Feminism is being involved and standing up for what you believe in. Feminism is empowerment, not necessarily restricted to those of the female gender, but anyone who faces hate or criticism. Feminism is needed now more than ever. Unfortunately I believe we live in a generation where we’ve learned to sit on the side lines. With so much technology at our fingertips, information is fed to us so easily. We are able to know more now than ever before, but nothing seems to thrill us. We are at war, and I feel like everyone my age has an opinion about it, but is far too lazy to do anything about it. This is also the case with feminism. Everyone has an opinion about the way women are treated in America, which yes, is far better than ever before but still, we cannot deny the fact that we still live in a heavily patriarchal society, yet no one has the time or energy to do something about it. Feminism is what all of that is about. You are a feminist when you are able to take action instead of sitting on the sidelines and watching issues worth fighting for pass you by on the television or computer screen.

This past spring semester, I took the course, Sex Gender and Philosophy. I can honestly say that was one of the most enlightening courses I’ve ever taken. Throughout the course, we discussed social constructions. I think it’s easy for outsiders to label “feminists” as “bra burners” or lesbians. But then again, what is a bra burner? What is a lesbian? They are human beings who function just like everyone else, they love, they work, the eat and they sleep. Who are we to judge who they are and who they want to be? Throughout the course, we discussed what makes social constructions. Gender, is something society has created. You can’t put a name on it or pin one particular instance down as to when gender was formed, but we, humans, created it. We decided girls should wear pink bows and a man is more attractive if he has muscles and a larger penis. These are all things that we’ve been taught and fed through one way or another since our birth. There is no one to blame but ourselves. Unfortunately there’s little way around it, unless you’d like to be ridiculed.

It’s interesting how some people question the validity of feminism today. I’ve run into both men and women who question my interest in women’s studies that say feminism is dead and why continue to “stir the pot” when our rights have already been won. Feminism is far from dead, and in fact (like I said above,) I believe we need it now more than ever. Like what Baumgardner and Richards say in Manifesta, there’s a lot left to do. “It’s poignant to look back, seeing how much harder the lives of the women who came before us were, and to imagine the clicks that erupted during other generations,” (Baumgardner/Richards, 12.) We cannot forget where we came from. Reading the prologue to Manifesta was sort of eerie to me. It’s crazy to think that women used to live under such circumstances. That is reason alone for us to further the education of women, and continue activism for our rights today. According to the Wikipedia definition of third wave feminism, the movement, for the first time, openly embraced the idea of diversity, understanding that women are of many different colors, races and ethnicities. Like I stated above, feminism is activism. All women deserve more than just basic human rights, and there’s always room for improvement in our lives.

Third wave feminism is an open door for my generation, one that grew up with our own basic rights and opportunities because those before us fought for them. “A third wave goal that comes directly out of learning from these histories and working among these traditions is the development of modes of thinking that can come to terms with the multiple, interpenetrating understandings - understanding that acknowledge the existence of oppression, even though it is not fashionable to say so,” (Heywood/Drake, 3.)

Photo Recap of my winter break

2010-01-16T12:13:00.000-08:00

Park City, Utah

Lake Lure, North Carolina

REAX Music Magazine: Live review, City and Colour

2010-01-16T12:00:00.000-08:00

Live Review: City and Colour, Orlando 01.11.10

By Justine Griffin

Dallas Green made his debut Orlando performance with City and Colour, his folk acoustic project, to a sold out crowd at the Plaza Theater on Monday night.

Green, well-known for his sheer harmonizing vocals with hardcore act, Alexisonfire, took a break from the screamo scene to hit the road and play a limited American tour through the month of January. Hailing from Canada, City and Colour has an already well-established following just north of the border. Orlando, however, proved to be more than welcoming to Green and his friends when it sold out the seated venue weeks before the scheduled date of the show.

It was a more than chilly Monday night for us native Florida folks, but that did not stop a line of dedicated City and Colour followers from wrapping around the building and through the parking lot, waiting anxiously in the frigid weather to enter the venue prior to the show. The Plaza Theater is the perfect venue for such a show; it’s warm and comfortable inside. I really don’t think there’s a bad seat in the house, either. Whether you’re in the front row or just inches from the back wall, the smaller theater offers fair enough acoustics and an easy sight to what’s going on all around.

Lissie, a single female artist out of Illinois, was hand picked by Green himself to tour in support of City and Colour. Lissie took the stage promptly in the early evening as the seats in the dimly lit Plaza Theater began to fill. Personally, I loved her performance. She brought a certain Midwestern feel to her folk-like sound. Each track unveiled the pride of her hometown that she carries with her. Her vocals were crisp and bold, and had a certain young angst and punch to them that made them completely her own. Lissie danced about in oversized glasses and combat boots while playing the guitar, and was accompanied on stage by another guitarist and drummer. Her performance was soulful and fun. I couldn’t have picked a better artist to open for this night of soothing tunes and a comforting atmosphere myself.

As Dallas Green took the stage, the now filled-to-the-brim crowd cooed in delight. Green stood alone under a single spotlight on the otherwise dark stage, guitar in hand. He opened without introduction with “Comin’ Home,” an early track off of his first released record, Sometimes. It was soon after that Green’s support, friends and band mates introduced to us as Scott and Dylan, joined him on stage behind the guitar and drums. I’ve always admired Green’s incredibly smooth and soothing vocals, but nothing could prepare me for the sheer clarity and power of this man’s talents that night. Although the performance was rather laid back, the tone of each song was incredibly serious.

Green was humorous and serious at same time. Being rather quiet and reserved in nature, he asked those in the crowd who called out to the stage to please keep quiet more than once. I must say I was almost embarrassed to be apart of a crowd who consistently continued to shout after Green expressed an interest in a quiet crowd. The night’s atmosphere matched more of a coffee house poetry reading, not a loud Alexisonfire show. Some kids just didn’t seem to get it.

Green played a variety of tunes from both of his past albums and even introduced a few new ones to us, promising yet a third City and Colour album hopefully by early 2011. After an hour or so of tunes, Green bid his adieu, promising to return to Orlando as City and Colour very soon. He was left with a standing ovation and chants for just “one more song.” Moments went by, but finally Green returned to the stage, welcomed by a roar from the crowd who had now left their seats and rushed to be as close to the stage as possible. Green then gave the last performance, an a cappella song, in which the crowd helped keep the beat alive by clapping along.

Read my Q&A interview with Dallas Green here.

Music is the key to my soul

2009-12-10T20:17:00.000-08:00

The other night I took a good hard look at the current Paste Magazine issue, a music rag I'm beginning to enjoy more and more. The editorial staff lists all the greatest, (usually top 10 or 25) albums, books, television shows and games of the decade. I was happy to see some of my all time favorites ranked rather high on their list. Anyways, I thought I'd create my own as well. But instead of the entire decade, I'm going to rank the top albums, books and television shows I've come to love since I started college a whole four years ago. Damn, I can't believe I only have one semester left. Well, here it goes.

Top 5 favorite albums (since entering college)
*disclaimer: this list is not to be confused with my favorite albums of all time. That list would require far too much thought, time and effort on my own part.

1. The National - Boxer
Hands down, one of the greatest albums ever created. When I was first given a burned copy of this CD by a friend in my junior year, I hated it. I gave the whole album a good two or three listens before I wrote it off and forgot about it for a good amount of time. It was only when my iPod died while driving home for the holidays one year that I was forced to play the album again, (it being the only physical CD I had in the car in the time, and I wasn't willing to chance listening the tunes streaming from shitty radio stations in Central Florida,) that it really hit me. Something in me changed that day, and Boxer became one of my most highly respected and honestly enjoyed albums of all time. It's just perfect. I can't even describe it.

2. Band of Horses - Everything All the Time
I fell in love with this album the minute I pressed play from my iTunes for the first time. I had managed to download a variety of singles from past albums before Everything All the Time fell into my lap. But it wasn't until tracks like "The Funeral" and "Part One" kept popping up on my Pandora stations that I actually took the time to download the album. All right, hate me, I didn't actually buy it. Every track of this album is solid, incredibly well written, and personal. I love it all.

3. The Black Keys - Thickfreakness
I owe my dad for a lot of things, hell, for one, bringing me into this earth. But his love for a raw blues guitar is something that I cannot thank him enough for sharing with me. I remember him taking me to a Kenny Wayne Sheppard show when I was a teen, still stuck on the "emo/screamo is the only good thing created ever" phase. So when I came across the Black Keys, after a point of some maturing, I completely fell in love. I bought the CD in an awesome little independent music store in downtown Asheville while on a road trip with some buddies. This album is so raw, so real and so damn bad ass. You have to listen to it with your windows down, stereo loud. And to thank my dad for his determination to introduce me to good music, I bought him his own copy of Thickfreakness, as well as the Black Key's Rubber Factory and Magic Potion as a Christmas gift. We jam out to that every time I'm home.

4. Alexisonfire - Crisis
Like I said before, I was a stubborn, angry and relatively stupid teenager. I loved shit like Senses Fail and Finch. There I said it. Although my music tastes have grown quite a bit, I still have a soft spot for some hardcore. Alexisonfire is an awesome band. I've been a fan since Watch Out! and will continue to support them as long as they continue to make music. I also melt every time Dallas Green opens his mouth. One of my first interviews as a "music journalist" was with these guys in Tampa, and they're just all around good people. They put on a great show, and put out great tunes. Crisis is great album.

5. Silversun Pickups - Swoon
This was a toss up between their newest release, Swoon and their previous one, Carnavas. Ultimately I went with Swoon because I personally fell for the band because of this album. After a long, lonely summer in Sarasota, this album became the soundtrack to the commute to my internship, which was a good hour and half each way. It was also the album I chose to listen to while having my wisdom teeth removed. This shit kept me sane. The Silversun Pickups are an incredibly talented, unique group. This album flows perfectly.

*This list was hard. Dredg, HoneyHoney, Mutemath and Manchester Orchestra were all in the running for these spots.

My top books and television shows still to come. After I stop procrastinating and distracting myself from writing this final paper for class!

Spontaneous road trip, number two

2009-12-07T14:12:00.000-08:00

Today marked the beginning of finals week for the last fall semester of my undergraduate career. It's been a long and very busy semester. I am more than ready for the few weeks off that the month of December offers. I am even more excited about how I'm spending these last few weeks. Over the last week or so, a few friends and I have planned yet another short road trip to North Carolina. I'm so fortunate to have friends who are willing to hit the road with me, open to whatever these trips have to offer!

The game plan:
We're heading to Charleston, South Carolina for a night first. My uncle has very graciously donated a room in his fabulous hotel to us for a night. So we'll spend one evening and the following day visiting Charleston.

From there, we'll hit my parent's beautiful condo in Lake Lure, North Carolina for a few days.

Then we're headed to Nashville, Tennessee for the only Silversun Pickups concert in the states on their current tour!

I can't wait to get out of here.

La Vita Nuova

2009-11-30T16:18:00.000-08:00

I've been reading a lot of Dante recently. For my Classical Ideal class, an upper-level humanities course, we were required to read excerpts from Dante's Vita Nuova. Aside from Dante's Inferno, I've never given him much of a read. But I've been pleasantly surprised with his works, especially Vita Nuova. I purchased "The Portable Dante," which features a variety of his texts. I've been reading them non-stop since my original reading assignment weeks ago. Dante's passions and ideals expressed in Vita Nuova are not only incredibly romantic and divine, but beautiful. Dante's take of what is truly beautiful, which he relates to a strong relationship with a deity, is innocent, and beautiful.

One of my favorite sonnets from Vita Nuova:

"If Love himself weep, shall not lovers weep,
learning from what sad cause he pours his tears?
Love hears his ladies crying their distress,
showing forth bitter sorrow through their eyes
because villainous Death has worked its cruel
destructive art upon a gentle heart,
and laid waste all that earth can find to praise
in a gracious lady, save her chastity.
Hear then how Love paid homeage to this lady;
I saw him weeping there in human form,
observing the stilled image of her grace;
and more than once he raised his eyes toward Heaven,
where that sweet soul already had its home,
which once, on earth, had worn enchanting flesh."

Reax Music Magazine: Brand New Live!

2009-11-19T07:19:00.000-08:00

Brand New Live!

Friday night brought out the best in all Brand New fans as they flocked to the House of Blues in Orlando for what may seemingly be the last tour of the band’s career.

Rumors of Brand New’s falling out had an eerie reality to them Friday night during the band’s subdued performance. Brand New, who took the stage after support from Crime in Stereo and Thrice earlier on in the night, played a good hour and half, fifteen-song set, all the while front man Jesse Lacey, played his well known role as the quiet, mysterious singer. Lacey barely addressed the crowd, whose voice collectively was more passionate then Lacey’s own as they echoed the lyrics to every song Brand New threw at them. I believe I was among one of the few who seemed to find Lacey’s stage-side behavior disappointing, but then again, this was my first Brand New show ever.

What I did admire, however, were the fans. Albums like Your Favorite Weapon and Deja Entendu fueled my high school angst, but I was a minority age-wise at this show. For lack of a better way to put it, I was one of the few who could legally hold a beer in my hand that night. I had hoped that the whispers of the band’s break up would have brought out some more old fans and familiar faces, but instead I felt awkward and kept close to the bar. Nevertheless, these kids were legit. Multiple fights broke out as some scenesters tried to crowd surf their way towards the front of the crowd in the pit, and those who muscled their way up there fair and square weren’t having it.

Brand New played a good mix of new and old tunes, which I appreciated since, to be honest, I haven’t bothered picking up the band’s newest release, Daisy. Lacey’s support came on and off stage as he played some songs single handedly, with his Fender and a lonely spotlight above him. My favorite song of the night had to be “Jesus Christ,” which not only brought the crowd to life, but Lacey for just a mere moment, as well.

Thrice, on the other hand, played an excellent set. Front man Dustin Kensure’s vocals were impeccable. Each note was clear, crisp and perfectly in tune. The band played almost all new tracks from Beggars, their most recent release. Thrice is just a talented band. There’s not much else to say. They consistently put on a good show and put out good music.

This said, except for a few diehards in the pit, I feel as though Thrice didn’t get the credit they deserved. Given Thrice definitely took the “hardcore” down a couple of notches with Beggars, the album is incredible. As an aging Thrice fan myself, I’m not interested in seeing these guys throw down like I did back on Warped Tour when I was 16. I’m getting old, they’re getting old. Thrice hasn’t changed as artists, they’ve evolved. I must agree with Alternative Press when they dubbed Thrice and ultimately Beggars as a “textbook example of a creative milestone.” It’s a solid album, and we’ll leave it at that.

Thrice did play one oldie, however. “Silhouette” off of The Artist in the Ambulance. It was interesting to see the glazed over look of the crowd suddenly uplift when they youngsters recognized a tune they new. But the members of Thrice didn’t rock out like they once would have. But hey, I was cool with it.

Crime in Stereo, the opening act in support of Thrice and Brand New took the stage first promptly at 7:30 p.m. This young band has a bit to learn and plenty of room to grow. They were fun, loud and angsty – all qualities that I feel that both Brand New and Thrice had in the beginning of their careers. Their set was short and most of their tunes went unnoticed. But hey, they’re on tour with Brand New and Thrice. I can’t think of a better way to get your sound out there.

View a photo gallery of the show here.

Read my Q&A with Eddie Breckenridge, bassist of Thrice here.

Venue Views: Column 4, Underground Bluz

2009-11-19T07:14:00.000-08:00

Venue Views

There are very few bars I like to frequent that are considered close to campus. Quality establishments like Knight’s Library and TD’s, where far too many freshmen are abound, don’t really offer the atmosphere I’m looking for.

When I want to get my drink on, the last thing I want to worry about is some bro breathing down my neck or getting too frisky with me on the dance floor.

If I’m looking for a watering hole near campus, I have but one decent option.

Underground Bluz, located in the same plaza as Knight’s Library, Lazy Moon and FUBAR, is by far the best drinking establishment in walking distance to campus. For one, this place offers more beers than you can imagine. From Brooklyn Post Road Pumpkin Ale, to smooth Rogue Hazelnut Brown Ale, it’s easy to find a new brew you’ve never tried before, or just enjoy one of your all-time favorites.

UGB is 21 and up, which weeds out the freshmen lurking in the plaza parking lot looking for a place to drink.

Although UGB is a rather small venue, the atmosphere inside far makes up for it. The bar frequently hosts local music, such as tunes from student bands like Slang Modia. Aside from scheduled shows, UGB also hosts open mic nights and amateur comedy nights on its small stage too.

The staff is always friendly and the bartenders are ready to offer an experienced hand in tackling the extensive beer list. Believe me, they know what they’re talking about. It’s easy to get lost in that long list of beers.

I recommend heading to UGB late in the week after class for a decent beer or two during happy hour. UGB’s happy hour specials, which include dollar off drafts and $2 Bud, Bud Lights and Miller Lights, runs from 4 p.m. to 7 p.m.

UGB’s small outdoor patio offers a great place to escape the bar when it’s busy, but it’s cozy enough to keep you connected to the band that’s playing inside.

UGB is open Monday to Friday from 4 p.m. to 2 a.m., and from 6 p.m. to 2 a.m. on Saturday and Sundays. Although there is usually cover to get in, it’s nowhere near expensive. Plus that door charge, which is usually under $5, is going toward supporting the band of the evening.

Marriage?

2009-10-19T11:55:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago, I attended a friend of a friend's wedding back home in Tampa. Ricky & Sam, both who are from my hometown on the Gulf Coast of Florida, and whom recently graduated from UCF, joined together in marriage at the age of 22 and 21 on Oct. 10.

Although I happily welcomed a chance to get out of Orlando and step away from the daily grind to spend a weekend on the beach with my close friends from home, (and an open bar,) I couldn't shake a sort of eerie feeling lingering around the word "marriage." It honestly scares me that I've reached the age where my fellow peers and long term friends are getting hitched, tying the knot and ultimately settling down. Of course I've heard of the names of "so-and-so" whom I knew vaguely in high school having a kid, or running off to Vegas for a quick wedding, but this, now, is real. Ricky & Sam have graduated, lived together, and are now joined in "holy matrimony," as if it was the only thing left to do.

I've never thought seriously about getting married. I've never wanted to. I believe there's more to life than following the step-by-step plan constructed by society to pump out kids left and right and create this "perfect ideal" of a nuclear family. Who's family is normal anyways? I'm not interested in tax benefits, or becoming a wife or mother. This doesn't mean I don't want to fall in love and spend the rest of my life with someone, because of course, like most other girls in their mid 20's, the idea of finding your prince charming is exciting, romantic and passionate. We all want that. We all want our Rickys to look us, the Sams in the world, deeply in the eyes and kiss us passionately. But unfortunately, I'm too realistic, or pessimistic if you will, to allow this silly fantasy guide me to swoon over wedding dresses in a boutique window on Park Avenue, or think about my dream location of a wedding.

Don't get me wrong. Ricky & Sam's wedding was absolutely beautiful. I couldn't be more happy for them, and I know this is only the first in a string of weddings I'll be attending in the next few years of my life.

I know what I'm good at, and that's working. Throughout my college career, every boyfriend I've had has taken a backseat to work. I consider myself an independent woman, who's happy being self-reliant and self-sufficient. And if I find a boy who can appreciate that and wants to come along for the ride, that's perfect. No need to get down on one knee and play the chivalrous role.

Venue Views: Column 4, IBar

2009-10-08T06:37:00.000-07:00

Venue Views

Five Year Flashback Thursdays at Independent Bar
By Justine Griffin

Published: Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Being a senior at UCF comes with its own set of new responsibilities.
I don’t live on campus anymore, so waking up 15 minutes before class is no longer an option. And since I’d like to graduate on time, I’m taking a pretty full course load this semester, which drags me to campus for class all day Monday through Friday.
My exhausting school schedule, and probably some form of “senioritis,” leaves me itching to go out and take a breather mid-week after three to four straight days of schoolwork. My solution: Five Year Flashback Thursdays at Independent Bar downtown.
Ibar is easily spotted on the corner of the bar and club district downtown at Orange Avenue and W. Concord Street, right next to Bar BQ Bar and The Social. Much like Backbooth’s Monday night’s Crush scene, ibar mimics a similar trendy dance night, just with better drink specials and bigger dance floor.
Thursdays at ibar attract quite the college crowd since at 11 p.m. the bar offers up free draft Pabst Blue Ribbon until the keg floats. Aside from some free PBR, $2 tasty Firefly Sweet Tea Vodkas and $2 Yuenglings until midnight make it easy to forget about all those school-related projects waiting for you back home.
Thursdays are the perfect night to hit up ibar if you’re in the mood to shake loose on the dance floor. The theme is college indie rock from five years ago, in which the disc jockey, B Minus, plays tunes such as Franz Ferdinand, M.I.A. and the White Stripes all night long.
Aside from the large dance floor complete with television screens that are constantly showing the videos to match the current music playing, ibar has four bars located throughout the venue. If you want that free PBR however, make sure you’re up at the front bar near the outdoor patio. That keg sure goes quick.
What I like in particular about ibar is the front patio. It’s an interesting place to people-watch while enjoying a smoke, or just taking a break from the dance floor. You’re usually greeted by a vendor selling flowers in the street, the extremist religious folk who shout at you via megaphone, or the occasional drunk bro being kicked out of Wall Street just a few steps up the street.
Thursdays at ibar have become a sort of ritual for me and a group of close friends. The staff and bartenders are always friendly and helpful, there’s no cover to get in the door for the over 21 crowd, and most importantly, the music is good.

Reality Television is the downfall of our generation

2009-10-05T08:01:00.000-07:00

It wasn’t long ago when we watched, as a nation, as Hulk Hogan’s 19-year-old son crashed his expensive SUV on a late summer night, ultimately killing the passenger in the vehicle. The news of Nick Hogan’s arrest was plastered across the headlines of every major news source, including CNN. Following the tragic crash, we watched via television screen as Hulk Hogan’s marriage fell apart, and Hogan’s wife, Linda Hogan, shacked up with a man, or should I say boy, younger than her own children.

The overnight phenomena of reality television has taken the nation by storm. It has quickly evolved from out of control fights and excessive nudity on talk shows like Jerry Springer to full blown seasons of putting people who aren’t meant to get along in one house for an extended period of time, like the Real World or A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila. People will gladly sign away their privacy for a chance to be on television and have yet a brief moment of intimacy with the so-called celebrity they’re competing for.

As a young adult who’s grown up in a culture based on reality shows like discussed above, it’s hard for me to see the true classical ideal in a contemporary world. We watched as a so-called “true American family,” the Hogans, fell apart in a season or two on television. We watch mindless and degrading subject matters on television, read gossip rags, and watch leaked sex tapes on the Internet merely for entertainment. It scares me that whether it be through literature, art, or music, the majority of people my age settle for the forms that require the least amount of thinking and analysis possible. People would rather degrade themselves, get lost in the madness of these television shows, and forget the morals once established by powerful and intelligent groups before us just to pass the time.

The notion that worries me about this is the laziness and possible fear of thinking for yourself. We’re too lazy as a society to find some form of art that is more than entertaining, but intellectually stimulating. There is no emphasis on the good or the virtuous here, and I believe that most of these ideals we share through all forms of the media are far from ethical or what we should be teaching our children from the upcoming generation.

But just because I do not see a classical ideal here in the contemporary age doesn’t mean it cannot exist again. Plato demanded that authors like Homer censor their material as to not risk influencing children’s behavior and fundamental learning process. I think this is what needs to happen now to get our society “back on track,” if you will. We need to create television programs that do more than entertain and pass the time, but that inspire and ask people to think. It's interesting to read the classical texts of Aristotle, Plato, and even Homer's epic tales and find examples of ethical responsibility, an emphasis on virtue and a definite establishment of what is "good." Where has it gone today?

Venue Views: Column 3, Hookah Bars

2009-09-24T07:25:00.000-07:00

Venue views
Local hookah bar offers “all you can smoke”

By Justine Griffin

Published: Wednesday, September 23, 2009

The art of smoking hookah has once again become a popular pastime almost overnight.
Whether you’ve purchased your own from a local head shop or enjoy going out to a smoke-specific bar, hookah has indeed made its mark on the trendy college subculture.
No, it won’t get you high (it may give you a slight head buzz, however,) but it’s a great, relaxing way to spend an evening with some buddies when nursing a hangover from the night before, or if you’re just looking for a night off from the regular bar scene.
If nothing else, smoking hookah is a way for you to practice that French inhale you’ve always wanted to learn to do, or work on the definition of your smoke rings.
A hookah, which is a traditional Indian concept, is a glass, water-based pipe used for smoking flavored tobacco. The glass base holds numerous hoses in which those participating can smoke from. The tobacco, also called shisha, is marinated in fruit molasses, which offers flavors ranging from something fruity to coffee, vanilla or even Coca-Cola.
Although there are a number of local spots that have popped up in the UCF territory along University Boulevard or Alafaya Trail, my personal favorite spot would have to be The Meridian Hookah Lounge.
This particular hookah bar is a dimly lit, artsy sort of place, complete with a number of large, half-moon shaped couches and a steady flow of decent music. The only downside is this joint doesn’t serve alcohol.
The regular rate is $12 a pop for unlimited hookah all night. This may seem a little pricey compared to other hookah bars, but the quality of the hookah, (and the fact it’s “all-you-can-smoke”) is what brings me back time after time.
The menu allows you, the smoker, to create your own mix of flavors or chose from a list of house favorites.
Personally, I’m a fan of mixing anything fruity together, like raspberry and kiwi. Or if you’re feeling brave enough (and trust your friendly hookah-server), you can try the “Chuck Norris,” which is a surprise blend of shisha. Don’t worry though, it’s never as bad as it sounds.
The Meridian Hookah Lounge is known for hosting a variety of local bands on its small stage in the middle of the lounge on weekends.
On an off night, an impressive and extensive iTunes account of an employee usually loops throughout the bar. I wonder if good taste in indie music is a quality they’re looking for when hiring.
The Meridian Hookah Lounge is open every night from 8 p.m. to 3 a.m. and is located at 3050 N. Alafaya Trail in Oviedo. You must be 18 to get in, and yes, they check IDs.

Venue Views: Paddy McGee's, column installment two

2009-09-14T07:29:00.000-07:00

Venue Views
By Justine Griffin

Published: Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Deep within Full Sail territory, on the far side of University Boulevard beyond the State Road 417 overpass, lies an exceptional, hole-in-the-wall dive bar with the perfect appeal for all young college students.
I stumbled upon an Irish-themed pub called Paddy McGee’s while on my hunt for a new topic for this column. In the mood for a good beer, I met a friend in this quiet plaza, located at University Boulevard and Goldenrod Road.
We had planned on calling it an early night, but with two-for-one specials until 11 p.m. on microbrews like Hazed and Infused, an epic pale ale, and Stella Artois, a Belgium lager and one of my personal favorite beers, we weren’t going anywhere any time soon.
I was impressed with the chatty, young bartender, who, even on a relatively slow Monday night, was helpful, friendly and incredibly knowledgeable on its wide selection of beer. I only wish its cooler of microbrews, fine ales and lagers had also made it over to tap. But don’t get me wrong, its 14-beer draft selection was far from lacking.
The dimly lit, Irish bar remained quiet before 10 p.m., but came alive, even on a weekday, shortly after 10:30 p.m. The early crowd was an older one, with 30-something-year-old professionals gathered together under the low light of a booth against the back wall. The younger, trendy and tattooed Full Sail students didn’t grab a seat at the bar until closer to 11 p.m. We even ran into some old friends, both current UCF students and alumni, who apparently frequent Paddy McGee’s for a tall, cold Guinness and a game of darts once a week.
Paddy McGee’s is a local spot for dart tournaments, hosting teams from all around Florida to come and play at one of its three dart machines located throughout the bar. We were fortunate to meet some die-hard darts teams from Apopka, who were at Paddy McGee’s for the first time. Aside from darts, there is also a pool table in the back of the bar, and a stage in the front where the bar hosts live music on the weekends.
The jukebox played artists like the Dropkick Murphys, which you would expect from an Irish joint, to the reggae tunes of Slightly Stoopid, to Michael Jackson all night long.
Overall, it was a rather diverse crowd but a good time nonetheless.
What I liked most about good ol’ Paddy McGee’s was how clean the small bar was. Unlike most dive bars of this nature, there is no smoking allowed inside. All smokers are directed toward a small outdoor patio located in the front of the bar. By keeping the smokers outside, it made a world of difference inside.
We couldn’t leave without having one real Irish drink, so our last beverage of the night was an Irish Car Bomb. For those of you who are not familiar, an Irish Car Bomb is a half shot of Jameson Whiskey and half shot of Baileys Irish cream dropped into a half glass of Guinness. Go big or go home.

Paddy Drink Specials:
Happy Hour Every Day 11a.m.-7p.m.$2 Draft Specials & $3 Shots Every Night 10p.m.-2a.m.
Wednesday is Ladies Night
Thursday is College Night: $3 bombs, $2 imports, $1 domestic drafts
Sunday, S.I.N. All Day: $3 Captain, 3-Olives Imperial and 22 oz. drafts

MTV's VMA's

2009-09-13T18:47:00.000-07:00

I'm tweeting the vma updates from @jgriffin88 Click the link to get my comments on this year's awards show as it happens LIVE!

Read my column on Ucfnews.com!

2009-08-30T19:41:00.001-07:00

While I serve as a news editor this fall semester the Central Florida Future, my university's student newspaper, I will also have my own column which will publish online every other Thursday under the variety section. In my column, I will review bars, events, concerts and other things of the social and cultural sort happening in the Orlando area. I'm really excited to get started. It should be a nice bit to do every so often. I'm sure I'll welcome the break from writing straight news and to draft up something semi-creative every one in a while.

Read my first installment here.

Venue Views

After spending a good 10 weeks on the Gulf Coast this summer, I couldn’t wait to get back into Orlando. Although being able to watch the sunset over the water from my balcony every night was wonderful, I longed for time away from retiree’s with yippy little dogs and your typical local beach bums down at the pier.

Gulf Coast beaches like Sarasota and Siesta Key, which are nice, warm and quiet lack one thing: youth. Tourists, families of four and the senior citizen crowds from up north crawled the beaches of the Gulf Coast all summer.

I yearned to be back in a city made up of people in my relative age group.

Orlando is a hub of nightlife and entertainment for young people. Whether you’re a student at one of the many academic institutions in Central Florida or a young professional, Orlando offers ample opportunities to meet people and get loose on a social level.

And once a week or so, I plan to highlight some of these dimly lit bars, smoke-filled venues, events and happy hours for all of you folks looking for a good time.

Upon my return to Orlando at the beginning of August, I ventured downtown with a few friends to celebrate my return to the City Beautiful. It was a Monday night near the end of summer, so I wasn’t surprised to see the nightlife corridor of Church Street and Orange Avenue rather unpopulated.

My friends and I had agreed to boogey down that night at Backbooth on Pine Street. For those of you who may not know, Backbooth is a small, trendy venue that hosts Crush, a Monday night dance ritual dedicated to electro indie music courtesy of your local hipster disc jockeys.

Although the cover to get into the bar is usually less than $5, I’ve always loved that Backbooth offers a free admission guest list to everyone. All you have to do is sign up online via its Web site, get to the door before 11 p.m. and you’re in for free.

We made our first and most important stop at the bar before joining the sea of young, trendy people on the main dance floor. The typical and most popular drink special of the night were two for $5 Pabst Blue Ribbons. Although I-Bar, another hipster hotspot just around the corner on Orange Avenue, offers $1 PBR specials on select nights, I wasn’t going to complain about the “two-for-five” deal.

What I think I like most about Backbooth, especially Crush, is that it never matters if you’re a good dancer or not. I’ll be the first to admit that I have absolutely no rhythm and tend to opt out of a night of dancing — unless it’s Crush. The crowds here tend to be friendly, fun and easygoing. No one seems to care about the dance styles of the group of people next to you, just as long as you’re careful to not drop that cigarette onto another’s skinny tie or sweater vest.

The DJs are fun and relaxed and photographers from local party sites like Party Foulz or Smile for Camera are always happy to snap a shot.

Crush just celebrated its 15th anniversary at Backbooth on Aug. 17. Overall, it was the perfect first night out back in Orlando.

Sidebar:
Crush at Backbooth
37 W. Pine St., Downtown Orlando, FL 32801
10 p.m. to 2 a.m., 18 and up Crushorlando.com

Reax Music Magazine: Warped Tour Recap

2009-07-29T11:39:00.000-07:00

Warped Tour Recap - 7/26/09 Vinoy Park, St. Petersburg, Fla. for Reax Music Magazine

The tattooed and pieced youth of Tampa flocked to Vinoy Park in St. Pete on Sunday to sweat, mosh, and dance to their favorite artists on the 2009 Vans Warped Tour. The 2009 lineup brought the familiarity of past tours, with a variety of punk, hardcore, ska and emo artists to fill the six stages spread out along the Gulf in Vinoy Park. This year, however, the tour hosted only one main stage, unlike previous years where there were two dueling main stages. Maybe the effects of the slumping economy are taking their toll on the punk world as well. Although this meant fewer artists on the tour than past years, all sets were extended to forty minutes. Read on below for my top picks and low points of the day overall.

The Devil Wears Prada: This hardcore Christian band out of Ohio was one of the first acts to take the Main Stage early on in the day. Although the crowd was thin because of their early set time, Prada tore it up. The band took the stage with an intensity that never faded throughout their entire set, even through the thick Florida heat and humidity. Their set focused on tracks mainly from their newest album, With Roots Above and Branches Below. It was the perfect first set to really get you in the mood for a day of punk rock.

Senses Fail: The last time I saw Senses Fail was on the Warped Tour two years ago, where they played the main stage. This year, however, the Warped veterans played the Smartpunk Stage, a sort of sign, I’d say, to their slipping career. Their last two albums, Still Searching and, most recently, Life is Not a Waiting Room, have been rather awful. Their live performance only enforced my reasoning why they were demoted to the smaller Smartpunk Stage. Singer Buddy Nielsen’s vocals were incredibly off throughout the entire performance, and it was hard to decipher what he was actually saying while singing. In between songs, Nielsen also would break into these long rants about other bands on the tour. Nielsen called out new bands like Millionaires and Brokencyde as “being a joke” and “creating only noise,” because they do not put themselves, or emotion into their music. Although I may agree with Nielson here, this was not the time or place to whine about other artists. Kids were here to see you perform, not bitch.

Chiodos: Although I’ve never been a big fan of Chiodos and their music, their set on Sunday was by far the most intense, lively one of the day. Craig Owens, the vocalist and ringleader, lead the crowd into a frenzy from the main stage mid-day on Sunday. Owens lead the large crowd into a frenzy, with a different instructions for each song. For example, Owens banned crowd surfing for the entire set except for one song. During that one song, there were easily over 40 kids crowd surfing at a time. At another point during their set, Owens requested the familiar “death wall,” where he split the crowd in two and had each side run at each other in full force. All in all, this was one of my favorite performances of the day. It was what you expect and want out of Warped Tour, a band with a brilliant energy on stage who dedicated themselves to the crowd for their entire forty-minute set.

VersaEmerge: Versaemerge, originally from Port St. Lucie, Florida, is a new act just picked up by Fueled by Ramen. The played a mid-afternoon set on the smallest stage of the tour, the Ernie Ball stage. Lead by Sierra Kusterbeck, this girl can throw down like the rest of the boys on tour. I stumbled upon their set while trying to kill some time in between waiting for other artists, and was impressed with what I saw. Their sound somewhat resembles that of Paramore, just less poppy and more soulful. Either way, it was great to see them during their hometown show. They’re definitely worth checking out!

Underoath: Our hometown heroes, Underoath, took the stage in late afternoon as the tour began its wrap-up. The crowd, who anxiously awaited this performance since their arrival hours earlier, was by far the biggest group of kids surrounding one stage I’d seen all day. Underoath, as usual, took the stage with an utmost intensity and passion for playing their hometown stop this summer. I’ve seen them play in St. Pete and Tampa quite a few times, and the sheer passion that flows from this group of performers never ceases to impress me. This set, like all their others, was top notch.

Alexisonfire: Canadian post-hardcore act, Alexisonfire is by far my favorite band on Warped Tour this year. They took the Hurley Stage later in the day, and I was surprised to see a sizable following chanting their lyrics. They’ve always seemed to struggle in the States, despite their unique and awesome sound. Singer George Pettit was not afraid to announce themselves as “the liberal men from the North,” as they took the stage, and even acknowledged the St. Pete Pride Festival, and their support for gay rights. Dallas Green, specifically was the swoon of many of the young girls in the crowd, who all openly called out to him during the performance.

A Day to Remember: A Day to Remember was the last band I saw of the day. They took the Hurley Stage late in the afternoon, just as the dark, luminous clouds were closing in over Vinoy Park. Up until this time of the day, we had relatively decent weather. A Day to Remember easily had the biggest crowd the Hurley Stage had seen all day. I was surprised to see how clean cut the members of this hardcore act were. But don’t let their looks fool you, they rocked just as hard as any other band on Warped that day.

Check out my photo gallery from the event here.

Read my Q&A with Alexisonfire here.

Service Learning

2009-07-21T12:16:00.000-07:00

This summer, I've been dedicating about one day a week, or so, as a volunteer at Quantum Leap Farm, a therapeutic riding facility for adults with disabilities. Even though I am at the farm to fulfill a summer class requirement, I've gotten much more out of the experience than I thought I would.

It was my first day out at the farm, only about an hour or so into my volunteer shift when it hit me. It was muggy Friday morning, so today’s lessons were being conducted in the newly constructed covered arena. I along with two other volunteers, Katie, a 14-year-old freshman in high school and Frieda, a 60-year-old horse enthusiast walked Tie, a bay colored Arabian therapy horse, out to the arena. We were the team picked to help Charlotte, the lead trainer and advisor of the therapy program’s, next lesson.

As we entered the arena, Charlotte briefed us on Paul, our rider for the next hour. Paul is a man in his mid 50s who suffers from the most sever cause of autism I’ve ever witnessed in an adult. He’s been working with Charlotte and Tie, the therapy horse, for the last five years. Charlotte told us how things were going well for the first two years or so and they were really seeing progress in Paul’s personality and attitude when working with horses and what he was able to take with him after rides. But all of a sudden, about a year and a half ago, Paul decided he no longer wanted to ride.

Ever since, Charlotte has been working with him to try to get back on the horse, but all attempts up until today proved futile. Paul would stand at the edge of the arena, helmet secured on his head and riding boots on, but as soon as Tie and a team of volunteers would approach him, he would pull away and recede back on the other side of the arena’s fence. About a month or so prior to today’s session, Charlotte had finally gotten Paul to come out and at least pet Tie, and even lead the horse around the arena while on the ground.

Paul’s doctors, nurses, family and even Charlotte have no idea what caused Paul’s certain and sudden apprehension of horses. Charlotte was hopeful, however, on this muggy Friday morning.

We were all introduced to Paul, an average looking, middle-aged man with a kind heart. He happily hugged us all, yet looked at us with such a blank stare. He patted Tie gently before Charlotte coaxed Paul into trying to sit in the saddle once again. At the mention of getting on the horse, Paul began to freeze up, and clutched onto Charlotte immediately. But then, out of nowhere, with the four of us showing Paul how wonderful and calm Tie was, Paul was able to climb into the saddle for the first time in over a year.

My job this morning was to stand alongside of the horse and provide Paul with extra support, if needed. I held his hand while he was very nervous and tense at first, then helped him with therapy exercises from the ground.

Throughout our lesson, Paul slowly began to loosen up. By the end of the ride, Paul was smiling and able to ride comfortably with his hands held straight up in the air, or leaning down to hug Tie. We even ventured out of the arena and into a nearby 20-acre pasture for a short trail ride. This part of the lesson is what touched me the most.

Paul seemed to brighten up. His blank, glazed stare was gone. He looked out through the woods at the other horses grazing near by, and named all of them for us. He picked flowers and gave one to each of us before climbing back onto the horse with a new found confidence for the ride back to the barn.

It was then, that it hit me. I had volunteered at local soup kitchens and other community organizations before, but had never seen anything quite like this. It was amazing to see how well Paul was able to connect with an animal, and how the bond between them was helping him mentally, emotionally, and physically. I wouldn’t trade this feeling and this experience for anything in the world. For the first time in my life, I felt as though I was making a difference, and helping someone on a personal level.

Being an avid equestrian myself, I believe that the bond and relationship between a human and animal is therapeutic in itself. But what these people are able to learn and do through the help of a horse is incredible. I have witnessed, like in the story I recounted above, how this sort of bond can help people of all different backgrounds change their lives.

Nostalgia

2009-07-18T18:14:00.000-07:00

During some down time I had in between interviews and writing on deadline down in Sarasota this past week, I took the time to surf the web, and visit some old sites I hadn't seen in quite some time. Some of these sites were old photo hosting accounts, with pictures of friends, family and I a from quite some time ago. Others were old music and equestrian sites and blogs I used to frequent almost every day. During the less-than-an-hour trip down memory lane, I also ran across my own web site project I set up back in high school. You can check it out here.

Now don't laugh. I know it looks silly now, but at one time, this music blog was incredibly important to me. And damn, was I proud of it. I remember contacting a friend secretly to have them create that "Gryffin Media" banner for me, because I didn't want people to know about my side project until I had a finished, polished project.

So Gryffin Media was a music blog I created for the Tampa area, where I would review concerts and albums and interview bands. At the time, I was the editor of my high school newspaper and held strong starry-eyed dreams of becoming a music journalist. I pictured myself backstage at big concerts, wearing RayBan's and converse all-stars, and reporting directly to Jann S. Werner at Rolling Stone. The blog flowed over into my freshman year of college, where I wrote for an online music blog (music-reviewer.com) and Axis Magazine, a local music rag in Orlando which held very loose journalistic standards. Nevertheless, I was still writing about music, so I was completely cool with it.

Upon reading all of these old "articles" I wrote about bands like Motion City Soundtrack and Alexisonfire, I can't help but smile. I used to be so passionate about my writing. I would dream all day long about how to become a music journalist, and there was nothing else I could ever imagine myself doing.

My first ever interview was with the band Motion City Soundtrack. The pop-punk group from Minnesota was in Tampa on tour with Fall Out Boy. Somehow, with the help of my high school media mentor, I landed an in-person interview with the band at the site of the concert. I can still remember how nervous I was as I walked into their tour bus, missed all of their jokes and puns because I was concentrated so intensely on my questions, and being able to be up on stage with a photo pass during the show. It was I was alive for the first time. I had found myself, found what I wanted to do with the rest of my life, and nothing else mattered.

It's sad, but I sort of feel I've lost that passion some. Since entering the journalism program, my efforts were channeled elsewhere. I've learned the form of hard hitting news, the inverted pyramid, ap style. Of course I still write creatively through my own side projects, but it's not the same. I don't have that gut passion for writing anymore - covering courts and crimes just doesn't give me that creative outlet anymore. Although I believe that journalism is the place for me, that this is career path that I'll be happiest with, I don't share that drive and youthful passion I had found while on the stage at Jannus Landing. Instead, I'm just preparing myself for a reporting or writing job for any publication that will have me.

I do, time to time, still cover music. I pick up stories for another local music mag, Reax, whenever they need me. And next week, I'll be covering the Van's Warped Tour four the fifth or sixth time. I'm actually sort of excited to get out there. Even though I'll probably come home with a wicked farmer's tan and ill from heat exhaustion, I know I'l still feel that flicker of excitement in my gut while I'm backstage interviewing bands and photographing on stage. Even though I've grown up some and moved on to other things, my passion for music (and reporting it) will never fully die out.

Hit or Miss

2009-06-28T11:28:00.000-07:00

It's been a strange summer, to say the least.

I'm writing currently from the couch of my best friend's apartment in downtown St. Petersburg, Fla. I'm house/ pet sitting for her while she's out of town for the week. Even though I'm only a good 40 minutes from home, I feel as though I'm on vacation, a well needed one to say the least.

The day before I started my reporting internship in Sarasota, I lost my horse to a fatal stomach issue. Tuffy, the horse I've owned since I was 13 years old, died during an emergency surgery at the equine center in Gainesville, Fla. I've dealt with quite a few deaths in my life, both close friends and family, but had never felt loss quite like that. If you don't know me very well, I'm an avid equestrian. It's a sport that has helped sculpt me into the person I am today. The relationship I had with that horse was stronger than most relationships I have with people. It's taken me about a month to be able to openly talk about loosing him.

I have yet to travel to the farm to clear out his stuff: my saddle, his blankets, my riding boots. I'm dreading walking down the barn aisle, past his stall, and not seeing him there.

I apologize for the emotional post, but being a writer, it's an easy outlet for me to express how I'm feeling.

Road Trip Photo Recap

2009-05-21T09:55:00.000-07:00

Hickory Nut Falls, North Carolina

Chimney Rock, North Carolina

Asheville, "Beer City USA"

Asheville, North Carolina

Lake Lure, North Carolina.

North Carolina, here I come!

2009-05-12T18:15:00.000-07:00

It's been a strange 24 hours to say the least.

Since my recent creation of this blog, I promised myself I would never blog about the personal details of my life, especially my love life. And I plan to uphold this standard. All I'll say on the subject is that the boy I've been seeing for the last few months decided to end our relationship, out of the blue, last night.

As you can imagine, today, the day following this "break up" has felt rather strange. Though I'm far from crippled and depressed, (actually, I have yet to even shed a single tear,) I can't help but feel slightly down in the dumps. All day I've been striving to find that pick-me-up, something that I can try to focus on for the next week or so to get my mind off of this, and ultimately him.

Thus, a sort of absurd idea that popped into my head earlier this evening, which has already flourished into a full blown adventure.

During the wee hours of the morning this upcoming Sunday I, along with two very good companions of mine, will hit the hot summer asphalt in my little blue Toyota Matrix, and drive north. No lie. Road trip, baby.

Susan, Adi and I are heading to North Carolina to spend five days out on Lake Lure, North Carolina. My parents have offered up their condo in the mountains, (and on the lake) for the week, and we plan to make one hell of a trip out of it. Though our plans are still up in the air for the week, (though ideas of hanging out in downtown Asheville, white water rafting, hiking up Chimney Rock, and heavy, heavy drinking are all being considered,) we have all decided we're hitting the road and seeing what the week and North Carolina has to offer us. The thought of summer classes beginning on Monday (the day after we plan to leave) won't rain on our parade either. That's what the drive up there is for, studying and hitting up the most ridiculous road stops we can find.

You can all expect picture updates and more posts from the road, I'm sure.

Reading for the sake of reading

2009-05-11T13:57:00.000-07:00

Finally, the semester from hell is over. After a grueling workload of 16 credit hours (which is five classes, including one four hundred-credit hour class,) an internship and working part time, I am mentally and physically exhausted. Finals week was insane to say the least, but it's over and done with, thank goodness.

So here I am now, hair and suit still damp and cool from an afternoon spent lazily lounging out by my apartment complex's poolside, my skin warm and pink from the heat of the sun. I'm less than a week into my short summer break, before my two online summer courses begin next week and my summer internship next month, and I'm already bored.

I wouldn't necessarily consider myself to be an over-achiever, ha, my mediocre grades from this past spring semester will prove that I'm far from it. But I do, however, like to keep myself busy. (Hence the overload of classes that may or may not have been a little too much.) Since my admittance into the journalism program at UCF, I've pushed myself to be constantly working to develop a stellar resume and be one of the shining stars of the program. This is no easy task, let me tell you. Our program is filled with hardworking students and I'm beginning to think that this "work-ourselves-into-the-ground" quality is merely a characteristic of a journalism major.

Nevertheless, now that I have a break and literally no deadlines, no papers, no exams and no place to be, I don't know what to do with myself. I've picked up more hours at my part-time job as a hostess at a nearby restaurant, but because of the summer break, business is slow. I've picked up some extra stories for the school paper, but because of summer, the paper is only publishing weekly instead of tri-weekly.

So today, I grabbed a dusty paperback from my bookshelf, one that I had purchased months ago, before the beginning of the last semester, and headed out to the pool. Time flew by as I lost myself in one of my favorite author's, Dave Eggers, fiction novels. I had almost forgotten how good it feels to read simply for the pleasure of reading. Damn you, college courses and your boring text books.

I had almost forgotten how wonderful it feels to read and write creatively. As I walked across the hot, black asphalt parking lot returning from the pool to my apartment building, Egger's book in hand, my mind was whirling with ideas. This summer, I will read again. I will read and read and read. And then, I will write. All of these creative writing projects that I had put on the back burner semesters ago have resurfaced, and I'm excited to turn off AP style for once, and write whatever comes to mind.

Receiving a facebook message from your professor = awkward

2009-03-23T08:57:00.000-07:00

This morning, as I lay in bed, lazily delaying starting my morning, I decided to check my facebook via my blackberry. This is a pretty regular occurrence. I do indeed like to mindlessly browse facebook as a means to delay getting ready for the work day ahead of me.
But this morning, I had a message from a professor of mine, waiting for me in my inbox.

Now, many of my journalism professors do in fact have facebook accounts. My own is set to private, and unlike many of my peers, I’ve refused to “friend” them, because facebook is stictly only a social networking site for me. I don’t feel the need to share aspects of my personal life with my professors, or other professionals, for that matter.

Anyways, Robyn, a student and friend of mine who is currently interning at CNN.com in Atlanta this semester, tagged me in a note relating to the dwindling summer internship opportunities around today because of the economy, and other issues affecting the shrinking market of the media. There was a link to an article going into to detail how many top newspapers who usually take a decent amount of interns are slimming down on the amount of students they take on, or shutting down their internship programs completely.

I have accepted an internship with a daily paper for the summer, which, at first was supposed to be paid. But as time went on, the paper contacted me to say they can no longer offer me a salary, but will still give me the opportunity to work for them for school credit. Though, upon hearing this, I felt frustrated and disappointed, I am not going to turn down the opportunity to work for this paper. Being paid was just an added bonus, not a necessity, and by no means a deal breaker! I am still just as excited as I was when I first accepted the offer, and am thrilled with the chance to report for the paper this summer.

As a comment to Robyn’s note, I told my personal story briefly, feeling as though I could relate to the article and the hard times in the journalism world. In this short post, I expressed the gratitude I feel towards the company for still offering me the position, even though they could not pay me. Well apparently my professor, who is “friends” with Robyn, read my response and felt the need to reply as so:

“I understand your frustration, but NOTHING good can come of expressing your frustration publicly.”

This is the reason I am not friends with professors, past or present employers on facebook. Robyn’s note had turned into a friendly discussion amongst journalism students about our own trials and tribulations, and not once did I insult the paper I plan to work for. Why would I? I cannot express enough how excited I am about the opportunity to write for this paper.

Now I’m going to avoid the journalism department on campus for a long as possible.

The Death of Me

2009-03-04T20:00:00.000-08:00

If there's one place I truly despise, it's Wal-Mart. Hands down. That place is seriously a gateway into hell. It's a black hole that continuously sucks in every incompetent and miserable person out there, offering them a place to spread their misery upon others.

For a one-stop shop kind of place that is supposed to be easy and convenient since it sells practically anything you can imagine, (Today I picked up my prescription, coolant for my car, and some hummus. Weird, right?) I think the place is more of a hassle than anything else.

My day started out all right for a mid-week school day during midterms. I was in a pretty good mood, with the sweet taste of Spring Break just around the corner, keeping me in high spirits. Though relatively tired from the previous night of last minute studying, I found some extra time in between exams to run some errands. These included dropping off an over due rental at Blockbuster and swinging by Wal-Mart to pick up a prescription, as well as few other things.

Now, I'm well aware of the atmosphere of a typical Wal-Mart Superstore. Unfortunately I've been around these places much more than I've ever wanted. But it's hard to find cheaper prices for food, and especially prescriptions, when you're living on a college student paycheck.

Nevertheless, I assumed that the trip wouldn't be as quick as I had hoped as I entered the parking lot, spending a good 15 minutes or so swivelling through the lanes, dodging unattended children and old ladies pushing full carts of groceries down the middle of the lane, just to find a parking spot. When I was finally able to make my way into the warehouse, I quickly maneuvered around the mass of glazed-over looking people and made my way towards the pharmacy, just to stand in a rather long pick up line.

I had placed my order over the phone late in the previous week, and hadn't found the time to pickup the prescription before now. After waiting a good 20 minutes in the pick up line, my time had come. I approached the miserable, tired, and unkempt looking employee with a gentle smile that was never returned. As I gave her my information, she punched it into the computer, and after much aggravation and unnecessary force used against the machine, she finally told me that they no longer hold prescriptions after 5 days. Seriously?

Seriously.

So I walked a maximum of maybe 10 steps over to the other end of the pharmacy to wait in yet another 20 minute line to re-order the prescription. Usually, it takes about an hour or so to fill. Oh, but not today. Just because I was in a hurry, Wal-Mart couldn't help me out. I have to pick up the prescription, and do this whole process over again tomorrow.

Awesome!

Wal-Mart attracts a variety of people, thus the success of the multi-million dollar (most likely more) company. But it just amazes me how awful the customer service is. I'm not joking when I say I've never met a pleasant person inside of a Wal-Mart. It honestly sucks the will to live out of you, only returning it once you've left the premises. Creepy, isn't it?

What I find most peculiar are the types of people who show up at Wal-Mart in the late hours of the evening fading into the early hours of the morning. Being close to a major university, you'd think the night owl Wal-Mart goers would be drunken college kids. Nope. They're the mutants that crawl out of fiery gateway from underneath the store. I've seen some of the scariest, and saddest looking people wandering around that place in the wee hours of the morning. It give me the jeepers.

Experiences like these make me appreciate food stores like Publix and Whole Foods. I can only hope that I will have a job one day that will allow me to afford the luxuries of these elegant grocery stores.

Bachelor of Arts

2009-03-01T16:32:00.000-08:00

I plan to graduate from college during the spring semester of 2010 with a Bachelor of Arts undergraduate degree in journalism from the University of Central Florida. UCF, (and I assume most other universities,) offer undergraduate degrees in the forms of bachelors of arts or sciences. Since journalism somehow falls into the "arts" category, there are certain classes that UCF requires me to take in order to graduate.

One of these requirements are two semesters of a foreign language.

Students who pursue a bachelor of sciences degree, such as my roommate Scott, who's an interdisciplinary studies major (focusing on math, business, and computer science - YUCK!) or any of my engineering friends, are exempt from this requirement.

But don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining.

I think it's perfectly acceptable for me, as well as all other arts students, to meet this requirement. In fact, I find it important for every American to learn and understand at least one other language, considering that there are so many, and that so many other cultures around the world speak both their own native language and English. In my own experiences and travels, not only college educated people can speak fluent and non-broken English. Our language is taught all around the world, and it's a shame that so many ignorant Americans can not only master their own language, (Believe me, I've seen my fair share of those who can bearly speak or write out a proper sentence with correct syntax, grammar, spelling and structure,) let alone comprehend another language.

In American society, we're short-tempered and impatient. We want what we want, and we want it now. I've seen the same scene played out over and over, where people are rude and just downright mean to those whose primary language is not English. We even have stand up comedians who criticize these people, and tell them to "go back to their own country." What happened to the idea of America being the "melting pot" of all cultures?

I can go on and on about how sad and just downright embarrassed this makes me to feel to say that I am an American, but I can also say that learning another language is no easy task. In middle and high school, I took Spanish classes every year until I graduated. I passed these classes with As or Bs every time. But I can honestly say I remember very little, and would not be able to hold a simple conversation in Spanish for very long.

Now that I'm in college, I thought I'd broaden my horizons and try another language, thus my enrollment in French 1 this semester. And damn, this class is hard. It may be the most difficult and tedious class I have this semester, and it's the only class that is not an "upper level," or senior class I have this spring. I'm not proud to say that I'm struggling with mastering the simple, early techniques of this language. Especially after sharing how I feel about those who so easily dismiss others who don't speak English very well. I would love to master french, Spanish, and really any other language for that matter, but I will not lie and say it's easy, at least for me.

So I guess what I'm trying to say here is that though I do not agree with how some Americans treat others who speak little English, it is no easy process to become bilingual.

Never underestimate the power of a good bubble bath

2009-02-17T17:43:00.000-08:00

So this past weekend I celebrated my 21 birthday.

It was interesting, to say the least.

I must admit that I followed the stereotypical path of going out to bars with a bunch of friends and proceeding to act like a complete idiot for most of the night. Though I did, in fact, regret all of that "fun" I had the night before upon waking up feeling like I was struck by a train, it was a pretty memorable birthday. And so was the hangover.

The hangover following my 21 birthday celebration was honestly the longest, and most intense hangover I've ever experienced. (And I've had my far share of them, let me tell you.) It seriously lasted two days, 48 hours of excruciating pain and nausea, and feeling completely helpless no matter the amount of water or Gatorade I drank, nor the amount of aspirin or Advil I swallowed.

The one thing that did make me feel better, however, was a bubble bath.

In the past, it became a sort of ritual for me to take a long, warm bubble baths after a long weekend at a horse show. Since I rarely show to the extremes I used to, I do not both to use my standard shower/bath tub as a bath here in my Orlando apartment very often. But during my desperate hungover weekend, it was the only thing that didn't make my stomach crawl.

So I lit a couple of my favorite candles (vanilla scented from Bath & Body Works,) dug out some bath salts and bubble bath, turned on the soothing sounds of Explosions in the Sky, and eased my sore and hurting body into the sea of foam.

I am a believer that bubble baths can cure anything.

Fake Palindromes

2009-02-08T09:08:00.000-08:00

Friday evening, at the Plaza Theater in downtown Orlando, at 8 p.m. sharp, I stood in a very long line, waiting rather impatiently for the sold out Andrew Bird and Lonely Dear concert.

I had only received a phone call hours before from two different editors of mine, (Christine, my variety editor at my college's student paper, and Scott, my editor of the local music mag I freelance for,) confirming tickets and a photo pass to this exclusive, one night only event.

Being a relatively new fan of Andrew Bird, I was ecstatic to have the chance to not only see him, but write about my experience as well. On top of all of this, I made a very cool new friend, Ashley, who was the photographer assigned to the story.

The Plaza Theater is a new venue in the Orlando music scene. It's unique in the fact that this venue is actually a sit down theater, which is strange for an indie concert venue. Most venues on that side of town, such as Backbooth (off of Pine St.) and the Social (on Orange Ave.) offer a small, standing room only, bar-like atmosphere. Though I hold the Social and Backbooth very close to my heart because of the great shows I've seen there in the past, those venues are extremely filthy. Though I won't turn down the occasional cigarette, I'm not a huge fan of standing in one of these crowded bars and being forced to breathe in through the thick smoke that quickly fills the entire area once a good 10-15 people light up. The Plaza Theater, in all of it's classiness, does not allow smoking inside.

Once we finally sat down, I was a little skeptical of the actually surroundings the theater had to offer. Both acts made comments during their sets about how strange it was to be playing for a sit down crowd, and that they felt so far away from the audience. But the stage was huge, much bigger than that of the other venues downtown, (excluding maybe, Firestone,) and the acoustics of the theater were pretty incredible. Every crash of a symbol and chord of the guitar was incredibly crisp. And as the show went on, people couldn't help but stand and sway to the soothing sounds of Andrew Bird anyways.

When Bird first took the stage, he was greeting by an overwhelming sea of applause and shouts from the crowd. He then proceeded to take his shoes off, and very delicately picked up his violin. That man is amazing. Throughout the entire set, he jumped from guitar, to violin, to the xylophone, and sang and whistled as well. Sometimes he did all of this during one song. There is no other way to describe Andrew Bird's music other than beautiful. It's incredible how soothing his tunes really are. His supporting band, though tossed aside under the shadow of Andrew Bird, were equally incredible.

Though Bird played mostly tracks off of his new album, the show was incredible. I only wished I was more familiar with his most recent album. For those of you who have yet to witness the overwhelmingly beautiful performance of Andrew Bird, I highly recommend you try to catch him in your city while on this tour.

Check back on my other blog for video and photos of the event. (justinegriffin88.blogspot.com)

Never a housewife.

2009-02-05T16:55:00.000-08:00

I honestly believe I posses no domestic qualities.
For example, cooking. It's amazing how awful one person can be at cooking. Last week I burnt three fingers in the toaster oven. What was a making, you ask? A bagel.
I set off the smoke alarm when I tried sauteing mushrooms in a pan. (My roommates weren't too happy about that one.) I burnt more than half a cup of rice because I left the burner on too high. It nearly took me a half an hour to break through the thick layer of burnt rice crusted at the bottom of the pot later that evening.

I've known about my lack of calling to the kitchen for quite some time now. It's not hard to see, after growing up watching my mother in the kitchen, to know I inherited her lack of culinary skills. She, much like me up until recently, has given up on the battle with food. I can still remember asking her one night at the mere age of 13, "What's for dinner?" Her response?
"Make your own dinner."
Thank God my father owned restaurants.

Although recently, I've been trying my best to eat healthy and save money by making my meals at home. And I'm not just talking about heating up ramen noodles, (which still proves to be a decent challenge for me,) I'm talking about buying real meat, real pasta, actually boiling water for real rice (not the "boil-in-a-bag") kind. I've said good-bye to frozen food bags that are "ready to eat in just 10 minutes!" and Pizza Bagels. Time to be a grown up, Justine. A real woman makes her own dishes. Thus, my motivation to fight against my natural inabilities, and to actually cook.

Sorry Microwave, it's time for me to move on to bigger and better things. Look out stove, here I come! Out of the way spatula!

To be quite honest, it's not only that I'm just not a naturally gifted chef, it's also that I hate it. There's so much work involved! It's incredibly tedious, and far too easy to mess up. I stick to the same almost fool proof recipes my grandmother gave me, and I still somehow mess those up. Believe me, my poor hands have the battle scars to prove it!

Tonight, after a long day at the office I intern at, and after an hour and half work out or so, I still found the energy to make a meal. It was simple pork chop dish with a chicken broth based sauce, with sauteed green onion and mushroom, and white rice. Sounds simple enough right? To my surprise, I completed the meal all my myself, (usually a roommate will make their way out to the kitchen once they start smelling smoke and provide some guidance,) that was not only edible, but rather tasty.

The process that I usually despise wasn't all that bad either. As I gathered my materials and set out about cooking the meal, I made sure to light a number of candles and get some good tunes going to put me in the right mindset. The cooking process was almost relaxing, and I welcomed the chance to turn off my mind for a moment and enjoy being home. I thank the tunes of Deehunter, Beirut, and Nada Surf, personally.

But I can never imagine doing this on a regular basis. Though I am now a semi-functioning cook, I make sure to cook in bulk, and live off of leftovers for rest of the week or so. Once a uh, non-cook always a non-cook.

These things that people do

2009-01-30T16:53:00.000-08:00

So unlike most my age, near the middle of their college career's, I'm not devotedly addicted to Facebook. Though I do have a profile and check it often, the only great tool it really serves as for me is a mechanism to waste time. Before starting my homework, what do I do? Check facebook. All of a sudden I'll look up and three hours have passed by, the sun has gone down and I was supposed to be at some club meeting an hour and 1/2 ago. Damn. So as of lately, I've been trying to limit the time dedicated to my relationship with social networking, and try to only sign on when I have nothing else to do. Ha, which is never.

As of late, I've noticed the new "trendy" thing to do is post surveys via the notes tab on facebook. It's very similar to what "bulletins" are used for on Myspace, an embarrassing and unhealthy social network that I am happy to say I broke up with months ago. Nevertheless, these surveys are another aspect of social networking that always eats up my time. I can't help it, I'm just so drawn to reading everyone's responses. Question 53: "Have you ever done drugs?" Question 37: "Is there someone you just can't stop thinking about right now?" It doesn't matter who's survey it is - whether it's someone I haven't seen since high school, or one of my brother's peers that I met maybe once or twice before "friending" them, I'm hooked. I want to know who they're thinking about, and whether or not they consider pot a drug.

That being said, the new survey on facebook is to post 15 random facts about yourself and tag 15 random people to the note. If you're a lucky friend who's been tagged, you're supposed to repeat the process. To get this blog rolling, I figured this might be an interesting first post. Well, here goes nothing:

1. I hate grocery shopping. Scratch that, I loathe it, I despise it, I would rather die in a fire than go to the grocery store. It's just such a long process. If I don't have a set list of what I need versus what I want, I'm always there for half the day and never leave with the items I actually need. Plus I find the checkout line to be one of the most awkward experiences of my life. I shouldn't have to explain why I'm buying the items I'm buying to the cashier, but I'd rather ramble on awkwardly then stand in silence or pretend to read a raunchy celebrity mag.

2. I search the Internet everyday looking for a puppy. I've even taken it as far as visiting breeders in the area just to play with puppies that I have no funds for and no real intention to purchase. I just want one so damn bad. This apartment has never felt like home before because I don't have that companion waiting for me at home. I can't wait until I'm out of here so I can finally get one, hopefully an English Bull Dog named Bruce or Bailey, or a Basset Hound named Walter or Daisy.

3. I sold my horse, my best friend, this past July. Even though he went to an incredibly good family who spoils him rotten, and that also allow me to see him and ride him a few days a week, I can't help missing him so much. Our relationship is different. It's weird. It's like he's torn between his "new family" and me. Loosing that title of "owner" has changed everything. I miss owning him, I miss my best friend.

4. That being said, I was fortunate to ride Tuffy, my horse, on the beach over the last holiday weekend. It had always been my dream to ride him, specifically him on the beach. It was more than I could have ever dreamed of. Definitely on the best days of my life, period.

5. I worry about whether or not I will get a job everyday. I work too damn hard, my work load increasing each semester, just so I can tell myself that no one this hardworking doesn't get a job. False. It's scary. I should graduate with 4-5 internships under my belt, all of which, so far, have taught me all different aspects of the field of journalism. But still, I can't get my mind around that statistic. It's scary.

6. I'm making a conscious effort to not curse as much. Not that this has been a problem bordering out of control ever in my lifetime. Recently, I've been paying attention to how almost everyone I interact with speak. The ones I admire speak eloquently, and I have very rarely heard a vulgar term come out of there mouth. Therefore, I am going to try to limit myself.

7. That being said, I curse the most while driving. I'm an awful driver with awful road rage, and I'll be the first to admit that.

8. I wish I had the money to compete regularly in horse shows again. And not just these little, local school shows. I mean the big stuff, rated shows. I miss the rush it used to give me. I want to jump over something huge again, just to taste that feeling one more time.

9. I wish I had one, really close girlfriend again. I'm not very good at manging relationships with others of the same sex - I tend to find them far too needy and too much work, really. I had three excellent girlfriends up until recently when we all went our separate ways. I know people change over time, but I miss them.

10. I've always publicly stated how I am afraid to, and will never be my mother. As I'm growing up I'm realizing that she's influenced me in many ways, most of which aren't so bad. She's an incredibly strong and intelligent woman, and sharing some similar aspects would not be a bad thing. I'd be proud to be like her.

11. I have plastic glow in the dark stars on my ceiling because I'm just plain awesome. Yeah, just like the ones you had in 5th grade.

12. Good music takes me to a place that no one or nothing has ever taken me to before. Though my ideas of becoming a "rock n' roll" journalist" are fading, music will always play a very important role in my life.

13. I would rather sit on a couch, throw back a couple of beers, and watch the hockey game with a couple of friends, my brother or my dad, than go to the mall, get a pedicure, or spa treatment any day. No joke on this one.

14. Though the future freaks me out and thinking about it keeps me awake at night, it's still exciting to think about - dream of places of where I'll be, who I'll meet, and what I'll do. I can't wait to graduate and just get out there.

15. The best dates are the ones spent inside at home. An ideal date would be to order in, light many pretty smelling candles everywhere, grab a six pack of a classy beer, and then cuddle time under a blanket while watching a scary movie.