I'm leaving the Cloister

Well. That's it. Olivia had to post on my blog and now it is ruined. I'm giving up.

Just kidding. For a while now I've been thinking of doing a total blog revamp. The title and url of this blog were not very funny naming ideas I came up with two years ago, and I've been wanting to change them ever since. So I've decided to start over with a new name and a new concept.

This blog was created because I was moving to New York and starting graduate school. I've since finished my program and moved back to Seattle, and in case any doubt still lingered--this month I received my diploma and the bound copy of my thesis in the mail. (It was all dated as 2011 though, so I just squeaked through in time to assure that my '11 graduation tassel isn't a lie.) It feels really good.

So now my life is all about my new job and the awesome weirdness of work as a costume and textile expert at a local history museum. So I invite you to my new blog: Things I Vacuumed Today. I can't promise adventure or romance, but there will definitely be bustles.

The sooner Clara blogs, the sooner we can start Emma

Hello Clara's readers,

I am making a special guest appearance on Clara's blog this afternoon as Clara is currently occupied washing gloves for MOHAI.

We had a very busy, and accomplished, day. We both did the following (all were done together except #1):

1. Exercised! (Clara went running, I went to kung fu)
2. Watched Project Runway All-Stars
3. Ate lunch
4. Walked to Broadway
5. I bought a pair of pants.
6. I bought a book at Half Price Books (Notes from the Underground, for my book group)
7. Went to Elliot Bay Books where Clara bought herself a calendar, now she'll be so organized!
8. Bought the new Gotye CD. If you don't know who that is, listen to this, you'll be obsessed in no time.
9. Stood in a long line at Molly Moon's, both got strawberry ice cream in a waffle cone: best decision all day.
10. Went into the all-purpose store on 15th Ave. where Clara bought some hooks for her bedroom (this was the fourth store she'd looked in this afternoon)
11. Clara took a nap, I did some lesson planning for next week.

That's been our day so far! Now I've convinced Clara to give up her to-do list for the day and we're going to eat, drink a beer, and watch Emma (the new BBC version, not the Gwenyth Paltrow version)

Sincerely,

Olivia, the roommate

Things I Vacuumed Today

A few weeks ago one of my blog-reading friends asked if I had vacuumed anything interesting lately. When I responded with an actual answer of a few things that I had vacuumed, we agreed that maybe I should just give up the blog and change to a twitter account listing weird things I cleaned at work. To us, this seemed hilarious.

What do you think, readers? Would you like to get fascinating life updates from me like:

-Vacuumed wooden beer crate

-Washed Hypercolor T-shirt

-Used cotton ball to clean orange helmet

-Used Q-tip to clean shot glass

-Stuffed smelly wedding dress into fume hood

I love my job, but it often strikes me as a really weird gig. When I try to explain what I do, the first question people usually ask is, "Ok, so what do you actually do all day?" And then I have to respond with something like, "Well today I tenderly washed a novelty T-shirt from the 1990s in a bath of water and gentle surfactant."

Clara's Nightmare

When I moved back to Seattle, I wondered how it would effect the way I dress. I had started dressing up more in New York, and I kind of wanted to keep that going. But Seattle is such a casual city I wondered if I wouldn't start just throwing on my awkward jeans and saggy T-shirts and not care. But I'm very proud to report that I've been consistently dressing up for work. Most days it is skirts and dresses, and often heels to complete the look. I knew I had done well when one of my co-workers noticed that I was wearing pants one day (don't worry, they were nice pants) and asked if it was the first time since I started my job. I was able to tell her confidently that it was actually the third.

So the other night I had a dream that confirmed just how attentive I've become to what I wear. In the dream I was at work, going about my regular day. There were lots of mirrors at work (much like my new apartment) and every time I passed one I was confronted by the fact that I was wearing a really hideous outfit. I had on a white turtleneck with some sort of Christmas pattern on it and a pair of giant mom jeans. The whole thing was very unflattering and lumpy and I basically looked like Jerri Blank from Strangers with Candy (pictured above). I may have had the same haircut too. Every time I saw myself in the mirror I was like, "Why am I wearing this? Why did I stop caring? If only I could go home and change!" The worst part of it was that no one commented. Horror of horrors, NO ONE WAS SURPRISED TO SE ME LOOKING THIS WAY.

When I woke up I was relieved it was just a dream and took extra care that day in picking out my clothes. But it begs the question- what kind of person have I become? What does this say about me that I'm having nightmares about not wearing a good outfit? I'm basically a ditz stereotype from a teen movie.

But then again, I'm a fashion historian! I have to keep up appearances. This week the sketch artist for the Seattle Times got a tour of MOHAI and I doubt he would have drawn me if I wasn't so fabulous. You have to check out this awesome little article about the museum move. He even captured my pink tights!

Black Bart / White Apartment

Yesterday I had the following at the top of my to-do list:

-Remove shirt from cowboy

Yep, my life is pretty sexy.

One of the interactive exhibits in the new museum will be "Black Bart," an arcade game from the the 1962 Seattle World's Fair. Basically it is a life-size cowboy, dressed all in black, whom you challenge to a game of quick-draw. His pants are molded plaster or fiberglass (whatever the rest of his body is) but he wears a real shirt. The shirt is original to the fair but is torn and dirty. Since his gun arm is going to be constantly swinging back and forth at the new museum, the shirt is only going to wear out more. So for weeks, one of the things on my to-do list was to strip Black Bart of his original shirt and measure him for a prop one.

He had recently returned from the conservator in a crate, and so I needed to get the help of all the packers (not Green Bay, but the people packing objects for the museum move) to open the crate, stand him up, and maneuver him while I wrestled with his shirt. It was comically difficult. Once the job was done I had to cover him up with a sheet of packaging material because he looked so creepy and exposed. The conservator had worked on his face and had wrapped his head in white cloth to protect it. So basically we had a full-sized human, lying in a coffin-like crate, with tight black pants, pale exposed chest, and a bag over his head. He looked like some victim of a BDSM game gone terribly wrong.

In news unrelated to shirtless men, I got an apartment! Last week my friend Olivia and I got the keys to a great place on Capitol Hill. With the Holiday busyness neither of us has moved a scrap of furniture yet, but it will happen sometime this next week or in early January. It was all repainted and re-carpeted before we got it, so it feels like an exciting blank canvass.

It also has mirrors everywhere, so I am likely to become even more obsessed with getting dressed each morning.

We also have plans to turn our living room mirror into a giant, ridiculous version of a high-school girl's mirror, complete with images of boys we have crushes on and cutesy notes from friends. If you have anything to contribute please do. Images of actor Adam Scott or presidents from the 19th century will be particularly welcome for the gallery of crushes.

Vacuum vs. Choirgirl

I distinctly remember the moment in grad school when I became absolutely sure I didn't want to be a conservator. It was when I was vacuuming a textile in my conservation class and it took FOREVER because museum vacuuming has to be done with a small nozzle, one spot at a time. No dragging. You have to pick the nozzle up and put it down on each inch of the fabric. I thought I would go insane.

Little did I realize that even if I avoided becoming a conservator, I would still have to vacuum things. It is one of the best ways to clean fabric without wet cleaning (which introduces a whole lot of risks), so I've been doing a lot of vacuuming. Most of the projects have been small, but last Friday I had a big one.

We have this large, gorgeous kimono that is going on exhibit at the new museum. I found a bug carcass on it (luckily, no sign of active infestation) and so it was decided that the best thing to do was to give it a thorough vacuuming. Somehow I imagined it wouldn't be bad.

My iPod has been having trouble holding a charge, so I left it at home and figured I could use my computer to play pandora or something. It didn't take long to figure out that crappy internet speakers + sound of vacuum = no audible music. So I vacuumed in silence. I got through about one twelfth of the exterior and already felt like my brain was about to bleed. I started alternating between tiny sections of the kimono and long breaks in my office.

At lunch we had a special staff & volunteer holiday potluck. While we ate there was a slideshow of MOHAI people at events and at work. I was in one picture, and I was vacuuming something. It was like I could hear fate cackling, "Clara Berg! Welcome to your life!"

After lunch I returned to the conservation lab and tried to think of a way to keep my brain from going completely numb. I had only finished a small fraction of the project and had a lot to go. So I did the most reasonable thing I could think of: I started singing Christmas music to myself. It wasn't the kind of music you hear at the mall, but solid, old-timey carols that I learned in various choirs. Personet Hodie, The Wexford Carol, In Dulci Jubilo, Jesus Christ the Apple Tree, and the like. Music for Christmas nerds. I hoped that the vacuum would mostly drown me out but I noticed people giving me strange looks as they walked past. So I started waving and shouting "Yep! I'm singing to myself! How is it going with you?!" My defense against insanity looked a lot like the condition itself.

The amazing thing was that it totally worked. I stayed focused and happy, and the work seemed to just fly by. By the end of the day I was almost finished.

On Monday I completed the project, but decided to do everyone a favor and brought in my iPod and its charger. I resisted the temptation to sing along.

My own office!

One of the perks of my new job is that I get an office to myself. The staff at MOHAI has expanded over the years and there are a lot of people crammed into places intended for just one or two. In fact, I think that other than me the only people who have their own offices are the director, the deputy director, the head of advancement, and the head librarian (and her walls are glass so it barely counts). Anyone else at my level in another department can only dream of space to themselves.

Clearly though, part of the reason I have my own office is that no one else is eager to steal the space. It is a little cinder-block corner with poor lighting and a shared wall with the freight elevator. There are a bunch of pipes running along the ceiling and once my predecessor got rained on when one of them burst.

As fate would have it, I was exiled from this private paradise for the first two months on the job. On my first day my boss tried to get me set up on the computer in there and when she went to check the internet connection, the cable thingy just fell apart in her hand. What followed was a tech support comedy of errors and I basically just ended up working on a different computer in a different area. It happened to be the same desk and computer that I had worked at two years ago, so it felt like I had just returned to my old life. I actually didn’t mind it too much, but the two heads of my department lobbied hard to get me back in my office. It was very kind of them, but I sometimes wonder if my innate chattyness was making them weary of sharing a space with me.

Whatever the motive, I did finally get a new computer, and last Wednesday I moved into the office. Grim as that space is, I am pretty excited to have it. I’ve brought in my books and notebooks from grad school, and done my best to arrange the army of lamps that my predecessor left behind. The internet still doesn’t really work in there, but at least I can start putting up my pictures of John Doyle Bishop.

What I work with

I am really enjoying my new job. It does strike me though, how odd some of the things are that I work with. In grad school we learned about the best of the best—so one might imagine that getting a real job would mean being buried in Chanel and 16^th century embroidery. But working in a regional history museum the story is a little different. For someone who doesn’t care about the history of Seattle, a lot of the stuff we have is just weird old junk—not monetarily valuable in the way an art museum’s collection usually is. Here are some of the Seattle treasures I’ve been working with recently.

-Socks made out of burlap

-Puppets from a local children’s TV show

-Giant shoes used by someone in from the Seattle Sonics

-A 1991 CD single of “Smells Like Teen Spirit”

-The first down jacket made by Eddie Bauer

-Cardboard signs from the 1999 WTO protest

-A pair of 1890s button boots made by Nordstrom

-Hiking pants from REI

-A plaid Eddie Bauer shirt with sleeves cut off, worn by a gay activist in the 1970s

-A turquoise sequin gown (with matching sequin shoes) worn by Miss Seafair 1997

-A briefcase phone from the 1980s (which weighs about 25 pounds)

-And my favorite “only in Seattle” artifact: A toy hydroplane decorated with Mariner Ichiro Suzuki’s number and name, as well as a logo for sponsor Oh Boy! Oberto, local makers of beef jerky. Where else in this country would those things together even begin to make sense?

Oh wait, I found an ad for it:

Keep it weird Seattle. Keep it weird.

What do you know about Febreze?

My boss occasionally comments that working at MOHAI is like "stepping back in time." This is not a nasty comment about the organization being backwards or even a cheesy statement about how magical museums can be--it is about the people we deal with. Both she and I get contacted by the public with questions and donation offers. The people we talk to are usually old, and when asking them to send you relevant information you have to ask questions like, "do you have access to the internet?" and "do you know anyone who has ever used a scanner?"

The other day I received a letter that completely boggled my 27-year old brain. It was addressed to my predecessor, but it fell to me to answer it. It was from a woman who had written previously about a mold problem that had appeared on some vintage garments. While treating the dresses according to my predecessor's advice, a friend of hers had added her own twist: after treating the garments she was spraying them with Febreze. Now if you are a conservator you are recoiling in horror, but to those of you without that background, just know that generally it is never a good idea to just spray random chemicals in the direction of historic fabric. Plus, a simple read of the label proves that Febreze makes no claims about killing mold or treating mildew- all it is is a "fabric refresher."

But her unwise conservation decisions were not what surprised me. I went to grad school to learn things the average person doesn't know, so I shouldn't be shocked that the general public isn't as up on clothing care as I am. The surprise was that she had never heard of Febreze. The letter explained that her friend had discovered this fascinating product called Febreze and she was writing to ask if I had any knowledge of, or experience with this mysterious new invention.

But the even more astonishing thing was this: the communication was sent in the form of a hand written letter, and the writer enclosed a self-addressed envelope for me to send my reply. A self-addressed envelope in which to send my reply. In other words, for this woman, there was no way for her to get information about Febreze other than by picking up a pen, writing a letter to her local history museum, and waiting for her letter carrier to bring the reply several days letter.

I was so charmed that I dropped everything and responded right away (although my letter was typed and printed out). I tried to be as diplomatic, non-condescending, and helpful as I could. I feel a little bad for making fun of her on this blog, but I think this is a case where the internet is a pretty safe forum.

The greatest artifact

There are some parts of my new job that I don't love, but overall I'm having a great time. The core awesomeness has to do with the fact that I am helping out with the exhibits at the new museum--meaning that I get to see and handle all of MOHAI's top stuff. When people apply to volunteer or work at a museum, this is the kind of work they imagine doing. I am basically living the museum dream.

On wednesdays I go to these long "staging" meeting where we get out all the artifacts that have been pulled for a specific case, and a team of designers and historians debate about what will fit, look good, and best tell the story. This week, we looked at the original Starbucks sign that the museum owns (from pre-logo days!). It was a sandwich board sign that stood outside the original store, and reads "Starbucks is OPEN / coffee tea spices." When we opened it up one of the designers got really excited, declaring it the coolest thing he saw that day. What he said next was definitely the funniest thing I heard all day, and pretty accurately sums up the rise of the coffee giant. He was talking about the perfect simplicity of the fact it said "Starbucks is Open" --a line that might as well be their mission statement.

"I mean," he said, "It is like 'STARBUCKS IS OPEN...get ready motherfuckers.'"

Things that have happened to me

So I guess I'm still blogging. Now that I'm back from New York I suppose I could stop, but now it is habit and I have this idea that people need to know what is going on with me. Ah, the vanity of the internet.

I've thought about starting a twitter account. If I had, these are some things I probably would have tweeted about this week.

Oct 1:

In Eastern Washington for Mennonite Country Auction. After eating at every food booth I suddenly became aware of all the obese people around me eating the same things.

Oct 2:

Went for a run.

Oct 3:

First day of work! About 50% orientation and 50% "So um...just go to your office and manage the textiles"

Oct 4:

Managed some textiles.

Oct 5:

Went to a planning meeting for exhibits at the new museum. Got to provide professional advice about a sleeveless lumberjack shirt for the GLBT rights case.

Oct 6:

Visited offsite costume storage and tried to stay calm in awesome presence of collection I am now in charge of.

Oct 7:

Moved a lot of artifacts from one place to another. Sewed a label into a gown worn by a local Congresswoman.

Oct 8:

Nearly had a meltdown in cereal aisle of Fred Meyer when I saw so many delicious things for cheap. One thing New York sucked at was cereal sales.

Oct 9:

Had "Aw Seattle!" moment when local farmer's market came complete with aging hippie couple performing euphoric banjo and clogging act to the delight of other hippies.

Oct 10:

Put tiny artifact numbers on a collection of medical supplies from local Biotechnology company. Found it strangely satisfying rather than tedious. Must be in the right profession.

Oct 11:

Brought suit with weird stains home to wash. Didn't realize how giant it was until I laid it flat to dry. Stains are gone but how am I going to dress it on our tiny mannequins?

Seriously.

Return Trip

My last few hours in New York were spent stressing out and sweating. It was massively humid and I was struggling to get everything either packed or packaged up in a box (I made a trip to the post office with six boxes that day). When the hour came, I had a friend from FIT help me schlep my three suitcases and three carry-on bags from the taxi to Penn Station.

One of the best things about the decision to take the train was the fact that once I boarded I could totally relax. Packing was stressful and I was emotionally fragile from saying so many goodbyes. But getting on the train was a wonderful relief. My first order of business was to take a shower, because the humidity had left me feeling pretty disgusting. I had forgotten what a harrowing experience it is to shower on the train. The Lakeshore Limited really pitches and rocks, which is particularly disconcerting when you are naked and soapy. I got through it though and felt much better.

The first leg of the journey was fine, but I was really excited about transferring in Chicago to the Empire Builder. When they told us to board I was practically skipping down the platform. Once we were moving and the attendant came with chilled Champagne I practically squealed with delight. I feel like I should have stories to tell from the trip but it wasn’t very eventful. It was just four days of relaxation, over-eating, and beautiful views of the changing landscape.

In my last few weeks in New York, a part of me wondered if I had over-romanticized Seattle and if I would regret leaving the opportunities and friends I had in New York. I think in the coming months I will miss a lot about New York, but it was comforting to enter Washington State and really feel like I was home. The sun came up as we were going through the Cascades, and there were patches of mist hanging in the air as we approached Seattle. The final stretch took us right along Puget Sound, and it was a thrill to see King Street Station in the distance (which, by the way, has 200% more old-timey charm than Penn Station).

The Pacific Northwest is just so beautiful. Unfortunately, this is the current view I have from my bed in my parent’s house:

This Week By the Numbers

Last Friday I had a remarkable revelation. Between that evening and the following Friday I was going to sleep in six different beds.

I spent my last East Coast weekend traveling to Virginia for a wedding. The couple is closely connected to Menno House and a whole group of assorted New York Mennonites were making the trip. Friday night I took a bus to Philadelphia with my friends Lindsay and Ben and we stayed the night at Lindsay's parent's house. On Saturday we drove down to Harrisonburg, Virginia and spent the night with seven other people in a hilariously rustic cabin. On Sunday it was back to New York. I'm leaving tomorrow and will take two different trains during my journey. On Friday, I will sleep in my bed at my parent's house.

This also means that between last Friday and this Friday I will have been in 15 different states. The wedding trip took us through New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maryland, West Virginia, and Virginia. The train will take me through New York and Pennsylvania again, and then on through Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Wisconsin, Minnesota, North Dakota, Montana, Idaho, and Washington.

*About the picture: before the wedding reception someone decided that it was terribly necessary to spell out "Menno" with our bodies. No alcohol had yet been consumed at this point.

Thesis Approved!

Remember when I said I wasn't sure that all my thesis stuff would get done before I left? Well, soon after that post I heard back from my advisor, we met, I made some revisions, and on Monday my final draft went before the committee and was approved! It all happened so fast!

It still doesn't mean I'm 100% done though. My advisor has to look over the final draft in order to catch any lingering errors, then I have to print it out in triplicate on fancy paper, and then turn it in to an office at FIT for binding. The big question now is whether or not my advisor will get it back to me in time to make the copies before I leave, or if I will be shipping them from Seattle. Once the copies are turned in (and the binding fee paid), the slow FIT gears will start turning in the direction of printing and mailing my diploma.

But I think I can consider myself a Master of Arts now. On monday night I wore my Master's hood to house dinner.

But I can't stop long to chat....I am leaving NY in less that a week! Too much stuff to do!

This is no time for naval gazing

This week I started a post about things I will miss in New York, deep thoughts, blah blah blah. But then I realized that the Miss Universe pageant just happened which can only mean one thing:

TIME AGAIN FOR THE MISS UNIVERSE PARADE OF RIDICULOUS NATIONAL COSTUMES

If you are new to this, let me fill you in. In a totally irrelevant and un-scored portion of the competition, each contestant is supposed to have a costume that represents their country. While there are some who strap on a version of their national folk dress (Portugal went that route this year), there is also a strong trend to just go full-on showgirl (Trinidad and Tobago presents a classic example). In the confusion over whether to go traditional or slutty/showy, it seems that everyone just decided to play it safe and pick something completely insane.

So what joys did this year hold?

Well there were plenty of showgirls with feathers. Honduras completely half-assed it but Panama showed up with so many feathers that everyone else just cowered in fear. Just look at the terror on the face of St. Lucia.

Speaking of feathers and wings, Curacao cut to the chase and went as a bird in a sequined jumpsuit. She looks depressed by her life decisions.

Venezuela was all "I like the wing idea, but can it be more lizard-y?"

"Hey guys! Remember those trapped Chilean miners? How everyone was gripped by their story of survival? Isn't it moving how I have paid tribute with my bubble skirt and thigh boots?"

There was also a strong trend of crowns (Philippines , Netherlands) and various kinds of princesses. Guam went as a mermaid princess. Lebanon and Denmark went as 5 year olds at a princess themed birthday party.

It is good to see that Project Runway season 5 disaster Suede is getting work in Great Britain.

Ukraine is trying to work it, but there is something depressing about her sad little skirt of balls.

Romania came dressed as a vampire covered in toilet paper.

Tanzania wants us to know that her country is uncomfortably pointy.

Thailand has hypnotic boobs.

Turks & Caicos definitely made hers that morning.

Nigeria and Puerto Rico tie for this year's Lady Gaga award.

The following countries are on notice for cheating and just wearing a dress: Finland, Croatia, and Estonia. Belgium at least kept it interesting by making it an ugly dress. Serbia wore separates.

The US has gone down this route in the past, but this time it was Canada's turn to dress up in Native American stereotypes. Look, if you want to go the historical route and your contestant is white, dress her in ridiculous white people clothes. Take a cue from France.

Like France, the US also went the ridiculous historical route. But in typical American fashion, had to incorporate more flags, more skin, and a gigantic hat. USA!

Ok, so I think what happened with Russia is that she was going to wear a bikini, but just before she was about to go on stage her grandmother rushed over and covered her in gigantic scarf.

On the other hand, I have no clue what is going on with Czech Republic or Hungary.

Ok, so were there any I liked? Well, I'm not sure about that axe thing, but I think Botswana looks kind of fun. Vietnam too. But the winner has to be Egypt. Take note future contestants: the best route is to start with a historical reference, and then just think like a drag queen.

Actually, that is good advice for us all.

I survived!

Still here!

The storm turned out to be not so bad (at least in Manhattan), and the most intense thing that happened at Menno House was that we took shifts in the night to empty out the buckets that were catching water. But no new leaks appeared and the basement only flooded about an inch—a seeming miracle given Menno House’s dubious condition. Hopefully madam New York doesn’t have any more nasty tricks up her sleeve.

Now....humidity!

I now have less than a month left in the big city. As you might imagine, I am dividing my time between a to-do list of things to do and see, and preparations for the move. I’ve already shipped several boxes and designated certain items to be left behind (sorry, cheap IKEA comforter). My thesis is in a more uncertain state than I hoped, but it is mostly due to how busy my advisor is and how slowly the mechanisms turn at FIT. I’m done with it as far as I’m concerned, but chances are I will not be an official M.A. before I leave. My dream of putting my graduation regalia back on and taking some “this is for real” pictures will have to wait.

This photo is a LIE!

Yesterday my college friend (and Friend*) Becca visited from Philly and we went to see the off-Broadway revival of Rent. We got tickets via the pre-performance lottery- where you put your name in and they do a drawing for the winners. Normal seats cost $65 and up, but the lottery winners pay $25. The catch is the seats are usually less desirable. In our case we sat in the center of the front row, which despite a bit of neck craning, was sort of awesome. At intermission Becca asked how I was enjoying the show, and I responded that it was a pretty accurate portrayal of my life in New York.

*Quaker joke

Yep. Like looking in a mirror.

Obviously, I was kidding. While yes, I live near the East Village with a bunch of young people, that is basically where the comparison ends. One thing I find overwhelming about New York is how many very different New York experiences are happening at any given time. For every bohemian doing drugs in their modified industrial loft, there is an Upper East Side matron twirling her pearls and pampering her fluffy dog. They type of people who believe New York is the center of the Universe also usually believe that their New York is the real New York. This is a big reason I have never felt I can claim New York as my own – it is just too big and too complex for me to feel confident that I understand it all. Seattle is certainly not homogenous by any means, but I'm a lot closer to understanding it.

For example, I understand that everyone but me loves camping.

Disgusting.

Before you can return to Seattle...

Congratulations Clara! You get to move back to Seattle because you got a sweet job!

Awesome!

But first, you must pass these trials three...

Um...ok.

You will have an incredible weekend in New York in which you spot TWO celebrities. Now you will never want to leave.

Nice try. Seattle is still the best.

Next up... EARTHQUAKE

Please. Like I haven't seen one of those before.

Then... HURRICANE!

Wait, really?

YES.

Shit.

Soaking it in

Since committing to move back to Seattle, my life seems to have acquired an additional rosy sheen. Any time something goes wrong, I can just shrug and think, “well, I’m leaving soon.” And any time something goes right, I soak it in and feel blessed to have had the opportunity to live in New York.

As far as things going wrong, Menno House has become a bit of a disaster zone. Last Sunday we had downpours of rain all day long (it was the most rainfall in a single day ever recorded in NYC) and some of it started gushing through the walls. When part of the wall was removed to survey the damage, it was discovered that there are areas of the brick exterior that are just stacked bricks- no cement or mortar between them. I’m hoping to move out before the place collapses entirely.

On the happy side, I had a wonderful New York morning on Saturday. On my walk to the grocery store I saw actor Vincent D’Onofrio. He has been in lots of movies, but for several years has been the star of Law & Order: Criminal Intent. When I first graduated from college I spent the summer jobless, slightly depressed, and addicted to television. One of my new favorites was LO:CI and I became slightly obsessed. When my life improved I realized it was sort of cheesy and over-the-top, but I still have a fondness for it. I saw him just around the corner from Menno House and we waited for the light together. I looked right at him to confirm he was who I thought he was. He looked back and I smiled a smug “I know who you are but I am not going to bother you” smile.

I’m on kitchen duty this week so I had to go to Union Squre to drop off the house compost. When I got there, I was confronted with the bizarre sight of hundreds of runners and bikers going up and down Park Avenue. At first I thought it was a race, but no one was wearing numbers or matching colors or anything. I found out that this is a thing that New York does in the summer: closes a street to traffic and lets pedestrians and bikers enjoy it for a few hours. So I changed into my running things and took advantage. It was surreal and delightful to run down Park Avenue, passing famous buildings and looping through Grand Central Station. Just as I was thinking the experience couldn’t get any better, I looked to my right and saw Bill Cunningham with his camera at the ready. You may not know who he is, but if you watch the documentary about him, you will fall in love and be so jealous I saw him. He didn’t snap a photo of me, but it was a thrill just to see him.

Big News

Dear readers, I have some pretty big news for you: At the end of September I am moving back to Seattle!

I was fully planning to spend another year in New York City, but I was just offered a job that I couldn't turn down. In October I will be returning to MOHAI to work as a collections assistant and as the person in charge of the costume and textile collection. The job will allow me to exercise a lot of the skills I learned in school (proper storage! research! object handling! mannequin dressing!) and I'll get to do it all in my beloved home town. Since starting my thesis work on JDB, I've realized how little knowledge is out there about fashion in Seattle. Along with all of my day-to-day duties, I plan to turn myself into the region's top authority on fashion history.

I've also decided to return to Seattle the way I left: by train. This week I bought a ticket to make the reverse journey that I made two years ago. Which brings me to an important question- should I continue my blog? I started this site with a tale of my trip to New York, and it has mostly been about those adventures. Blogging about my return journey seems like a good end point. I could also just change format or maybe title for the blog. I'm not really in love with either the url or the title, and neither really reflects what it is about. So if you have an opinion on the subject, let me know!

In any case, I will certainly continue writing through the return train trip. So stay tuned for tales of packing and the scramble to finish my thesis before I leave town!

Enjoy this picture of John Doyle Bishop

Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I'm at the end of a Seattle visit right now and I've had a bunch of things going on. I promise a big, exciting update on my life soon. In the meantime, enjoy this ridiculous photograph of John Doyle Bishop.