Saturday, January 27, 2018

Making a butter block, or skills I never thought I'd need

I've never taken a baking or cooking class. I learned to bake from my parents primarily and the occasional show on the Food Network. Both my parents are exceptional bakers; my dad makes the best apple pie and pecan pie I've ever eaten. The apple pie is so good that recently he was asked to make them for people he doesn't even know (it's a long story). I'm always really excited when I go over to their house and there's pie. My dad gets me. He's also the banana bread maker in the family. It's a gift. My mom taught me everything I know about cakes and cookies. She used to make elaborate character cakes for birthdays when we were younger. I had a Holly Hobby cake that she still talks about. She also taught me the fine art of making snowball cookies, a family favorite for Christmas.

The more complicated and/or random confections I've made over the years have been on my own - the Italian orange cake that takes three days to make, homemade poptarts, learning how to make marshmallows and marshmallow fluff, tomato soup cake. The solitary nature of baking appeals to my more introverted nature. It's also precise and requires a level of concentration that I find satisfying. I never considered myself much of a science person until I started baking as a hobby. Being a home baker is the closest thing to being a mad scientist I will ever get to be.

There are some baked items that I have not tried on my own, mostly because I find them intimidating and the perfectionist in me hates to have any sort of baking failure. I don't make a lot of breads. I've never made macarons despite really wanting to try. I've also never made croissants. Three days to bake a cake - easy! Having to make pastry dough or temperamental meringue cookies freaks me out just a bit. So I did what anyone would do; I signed up for a croissant making class. I've already achieved one of my goals for 2018. It's very satisfying.

As I've never a baking class before, I didn't know what to expect from the experience. Who else takes a croissant making class? Would I completely mess up my group's batch? The class was made up a couple, a group of four (grandmother, granddaughter, mom, and an aunt I believe), a few friends taking the class together, and a few other singletons like me (that's what our chef called us). It was a nice range ages, mostly women (there were two guys), and many of us were experiencing our first class. The chef, Chef Penny, spent time in France before opening her own bakery here in the DC area. She eventually sold the bakery and has been working as one of the in-house chefs at Sur La Table for two years. She's also got a cool project in the works; opening a commercial kitchen to help foster women-run baking businesses. She is an excellent instructor. She explained everything clearly and is awesome at demoing techniques. She also shared tips and what works for her with making croissants. I took a lot of notes.

My group consisted of a couple and another woman, probably a little younger than me (I'm terrible at guessing age). The couple took a class previously, although not a baking class. They were very nice to work with and I didn't mess up our batch of dough. I got to do the initial rolling for our batch. Rolling out dough is one of those things I do pretty sparingly. Most of what I make regularly doesn't require rolling out dough so my technique is not awesome. My baking group was very encouraging, which helped a lot. Practicing today and watching Chef Penny helped a lot. I feel more confident in my rolling abilities after only four hours.

Since I bake alone, I'm not used to stopping and giving other people a chance to try something so I did have to think a bit more about what I was doing and whether I was giving my group equal time. We worked well together and took turns rolling out the dough, measuring, and rolling up our little croissants. We focused on classic croissants first, learning how to cut the triangles (there are specific measurements that help keep the croissants uniform so they bake evenly) and roll the dough into the classic shape. I added French ham and Gruyere cheese to one of mine; it was delicious. After getting the classic croissants ready to proof, we moved onto a recipe for morning buns. Morning buns are, to quote Chef Penny, what would happen if a croissant and a cinnamon roll had a baby. Basically, you fill a 18x11 rectangle of dough with cinnamon and sugar, roll it up tight, and slice into equal pieces. Each piece is placed in a muffin tin and baked until the sugar gets all crystallized and delicious.

While we waited for our croissants and buns to proof and then bake, Chef Penny took us through how to make the dough, how to create a butter block, how to do a French lock-in for the butter, and how to turn our dough (three times). The dough we worked with initially was made in advance since it needed to sit overnight. We each got to take a baby dough home with us and it's with this dough that we practiced locking in butter and folding create the layers (turning). Creating a butter block is exactly what it sounds like; it's a block of butter, shaped into an 8 inch square that is eventually folded into the dough three times. The French word for butter block is beurrage, but butter block makes me laugh so I don't think I'll ever use beurrage.

The turns are what give the croissant its layers and flakiness. The technique we learned today involved three turns, two letter folds and one book fold. We folded the butter block into the first letter fold, refrigerated for an hour and then completed a book fold while everything finished baking. I did the third fold, another letter fold, when I got home. While not "easy," like making chocolate chip cookies, once I knew the techniques, I didn't feel intimidated by them. It's rolling dough to a specific measurement (reminder: invest in a ruler for my kitchen), folding it in a specific way, and waiting to do the process all over again. Croissants are not quick and that's what makes them even more delicious.

And delicious they were. We got to sample our work and it was amazing if I do say so myself. I tried a classic croissant while still in class. It was flaky and messy as it should be. Croissants should be messy; that's how you know it's good. Chef Penny and her kitchen assistants also made the scraps from our batches into monkey bread. I sampled some of that too; it was delicious.

This is a photo of one of my croissants; the inside should look like a honeycomb (which it does) and the outside is dark, indicating that it caramelized. A darker bake is better, it's more flavorful and frankly, prettier. Those were just a few fun facts about croissants I learned today.

Tomorrow, I'll make my baby dough batch of croissants. I'll roll them out and cut and roll them as I learned today (they should look like the Eiffel Tower as you roll them into the crescent shape). Next, I'll do the entire process myself. Taking this class was one part of a larger learning experience. I have to take my new skills and practice them. I have to mess up a few times (I'm sure I will) before I get a passable croissant. I'm totally onboard for this challenge.

So, I promise between now and March I will make at least one batch croissants from start to finish. I'll invest in some European butter (preferred because of its higher fat content), get a kitchen ruler, dust off my kitchen scale (not required but recommended), and get rolling.






And because I couldn't help myself, I also bought a Madeleine pan today. If the Transporter can have one, why can't I?



Coming in February: Stuff I Love returns! There's an appropriately themed Lazy Movie Weekend, we'll talk crafting and wine drinking, and a few little surprises for the month of February. Check it out!

Sunday, January 21, 2018

Good Trouble

In November, I wrote the following on Facebook after Ralph Northam was elected governor of Virginia:

The first time I ever worked for a political campaign was in 1996 when Mark Warner ran for Senate for the first time. He lost, but would go on to serve as governor of VA from 2002-06 and is now my senator - I love him. I was 17 years old and couldn't even vote yet, but I didn't care. I guess first political campaigns are a lot like first loves; they last forever. I have worked on many campaigns over the years, including Ralph Northam's campaign (although not as much as I would have liked). I have been called horrible things by seemingly sweet old ladies in SW Virginia (rhymes with punt). I was asked if I wanted to send the world to hell because I was supporting Obama. My patriotism was questioned because I was part of the Women's March in January. But that's why I do it; it does not get old and it is never dull and it's not easy. Working on campaigns, voting, watching the election returns - this is exactly why I love this country and why I volunteer and protest and get out the vote. It's exhilarating and infuriating. And it matters. It matters so much. I know sometimes it feels like it doesn't but it really does, I promise. On to 2018!

I was thinking about this statement yesterday while attending the Women's March in DC. This year's theme, "Power to the Polls", is about exactly what I wrote back in November. It is not enough to attend a march or declare that the 45 is "not my President," action has to be translated to the polls. Yesterday's march was about action and what we do next. Right around the time the 45 was elected, I would get into conversations with friends who were shell-shocked by the election. They were walking around in a daze of anger, sadness, and apathy. I always asked the questions: What have you done? What are you willing to do next?

If the last year has demonstrated anything, it is that most Americans are unwilling to sit by and watch this country fall into the dumpster fire the 45 and his administration is trying to throw us into. Marches, protests, demonstrations, and sit-ins reminded us all that we can be a voice against hate, stupidity, and basic violations of human rights. The rise of #metoo and Time's Up have helped hundreds of people feel safe in talking about sexual harassment and abuse. I'm not going to pretend that all these efforts are perfect. We have a lot more work to do on listening, particularly to women of color, across these issues. Let's face, black women save our asses over and over again. Let's do a better job listening from the start rather than waiting for them to save the day. 

Yesterday's march was a re-energizer for me. It reminded me to commit to the issues and candidates I support even more than I did before. Since my first campaign at age 17, I have registered voters, I've canvassed, I've phone-banked, and I've worked at polling places. I've donated time and money to candidates and causes I care about. I want each and every person I know to figure out how they get involved. In the world we live in today, we need everyone to participate. We can't afford for people to stay at home. 

I know it's scary. Going to a protest or demonstration for the first time is overwhelming. If that's how you feel, maybe don't make that your first thing. Because I love a list, here are some suggestions on how to get started:
  • Be informed. Do your research on candidates, issues, and laws. Look for credible resources online before you post on social media. Ask questions when you don't know about something.
  • Volunteer. Volunteering is one of the best ways to become part of your community. Find organizations that support the issues you're passionate about. Volunteer your time for candidates that need help. You don't have call people or canvas if that's not your thing. Voter registration is another great way to volunteer your time. Check out your local political party for opportunities to help with voter registration. 
  • Have a difficult conversation. The time for jokes about your racist uncle or your sexist co-worker is over. As someone who has reported sexual harassment in the workplace and told a former friend their Trump apologist language was no longer acceptable, I know this is hard to do. But you will feel better when you stand up for yourself and for others.
  • Protest. Get yourself out there! Again, I know it can be intimidating to go to a protest the first time. Find some friends and go as a group. Make signs. Take snacks. Being around people who are energized and passionate about the issue(s) you are, will help you take more action. Protesting is patriotic; don't let anyone tell you differently. In the words of Rep. John Lewis, get in "good trouble, necessary trouble."
  • Run for office. I have no interest in doing this, but I applaud every person who does. I'm especially impressed by the women in Virginia this past year who ran and won when no one thought they would be able to accomplish anything. Start on the smaller side with the PTO or city committees. Run for school board. Run for city council. If this isn't your thing, support local candidates. They don't always get the support they need.
  • VOTE. Voting matters. If anyone tells you differently, they are trying to keep you from exercising your rights. They are trying to take your voice away. So vote. Vote in local, state, and national elections. Vote on ballot initiatives. VOTE! 

The reality is that we have a long way to go with this administration. The 2018 elections are the next step in moving this country forward. Get involved and get out the vote!

On a side note, I was interviewed by AFP during the march yesterday and my photo was taken a lot during the rally (Anita and I were right up front and had signs). If you see my picture anywhere, let me know.








 

Monday, January 15, 2018

A New Chapter: Transient Suburbia, the College Years has begun

After not being able to write anything for my novel for a few months, I've finally written the first new chapter for Transient Suburbia. I wanted to include Harper's college years and some of her adventures in Nashville. I haven't edited this section so please excuse any typos, things that don't make sense, or grammatical errors. You can read other Transient Suburbia posts here.


Third Street Bar, Nashville, TN, December, 1999


“It’s an inevitability. Eventually all of the music we love will become classic rock. Music gets classified at the twenty year mark. One day, Nirvana will be classic rock. There’s nothing you can do to stop it.” Harper took a sip of her beer, eying Nate carefully. She wasn’t in the mood for a debate, but knew that’s what was about to happen.

“Your casual dismissal of this as an ‘inevitability’ is troublesome. For someone who loves music as much as you do, you’re giving up pretty easily.” Nate smirked at her.

“It has nothing to do with my love of music. If anything, supporting the classification of music protects the music for generations to come. It guarantees that I’ll be able to hear some of my favorite music will always be on the radio. In twenty years, my children will be able to listen to the music of my youth without that much effort. And, of course, know how super-fucking cool their mom is.” Harper rarely cursed. Nate’s insufferableness brought it out in her.

“You can’t base this on children you don’t yet have. That makes no sense.” Nate signaled the bartender for another round.

“Sure I can. My dad once told me that when he heard The Rolling Stones and Big Star for the first time, he knew he was listening to music he would share with his future children because it would last. It would change how people thought about music and always be there. Just like our Nirvana and R.E.M. and Pearl Jam.” Harper smiled, thinking of her dad and their shared love of so many bands. She sent him a bunch of records the other day from her most recent record store/thrift store trip. Hopefully, they got there by the time she called home later in the week.

“I still think you’re giving into an inevitability that isn’t actually one. None of those musicians sat down to write their songs with classic rock inevitability in mind. They them to be cool and maybe be different.”

Harper laughed, “No they didn’t. Most of them sat down to write songs that would get them girls. However, I bet at least half of the rock musicians my dad loves, did sit down with the idea that one song would make them immortal. A legend. That proves the inevitability of the classic rock classification system.”

Nate stared at Harper, contemplating his next move. Harper knew, given their four months as a sort of couple, that he was trying to decide whether he could win this argument or give up and change the subject. She hoped for a change of subject. Harper loved to talk about music and go see music and would love nothing more than to spend the evening talking about Nirvana, but she loathed the competitive way Nate was with certain topics. He could never just talk about music; he had to have the last word about whatever they were discussing. She liked him a lot and sometimes wondered if she liked him too much. He could be exhausting.

“You have won this round, but I intend to win this debate.” Nate seemed to get she wasn’t in the mood for a debate. He reached for her hand around their beer glasses.

“I appreciate your confidence, but this is not about winning. I’m right. There will be no fight. This is done.” Harper glanced their hands. She didn’t hate the butterfly feeling she still got when he held her hand. She didn’t love the constant debates. Just because he was a political science major didn’t mean she had to be. Her brain rocketed back to the first time they met.

It was six months ago. Harper’s roommate, Marilee, dragged Harper to a house party the first weekend classes were in session. Marilee felt that Harper needed to party more this year. Surprisingly, Harper agreed with her. She also disagreed, but it was mostly agreement. She was trying hard to embrace the wild party side of college. Totally not her style, but she was going to try.

The house party was like every other house party she’d ever been too. Lukewarm, cheap beer was in one corner, sad snacks were in another. People she didn’t know were in pairs and small groups in every space that could hold people. Marilee seemed to know everyone; she was that kind of person. Friendly, outgoing, chatty. Her New Orleans accent and her habit of calling everyone “darlin’” was infectious. She was a great roommate and friend. Harper loved her stories and her ability to get people to do whatever adventure she had planned. The pair, along with Harper’s best friend, Amelia, had been going on their weekend road trips since they met freshmen year. In Marilee, Harper and Amelia had found their third musketeer. Amelia lived one floor down in the same building. They had opted not to room together to both broaden their social circles and not ruin their friendship. Marilee fit perfectly. So far, their trips had taken them all over Memphis, Tupelo, MS, and New Orleans.

Amelia was at rehearsal, but had promised to meet them at the party as soon as it was over. Marliee steered Harper to the back of the house where there was a porch, grabbing cups of beer along the way.

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” Marilee said as they got to the porch.

“Really? Is it a boy? I wish you had told me; I would have changed.” Harper was dressed like just about everyone else in jeans and a concert shirt. She suddenly felt underdressed.

“Oh no. You look perfect, darlin’. Trust me.” Marilee patted her on the shoulder and led her to the porch.

The assembled group was classic late 1990s college party: a guys was playing guitar. Two couples were making out, tucked into the dark corners of the porch. A girl dressed exactly like Courtney Love and another dressed like Dolores O’Riordan, were arguing about Soundgarden. Three other guys, sporting their best shaggy hair and flannel, were in the middle of an intense conversation. As Harper and Marilee moved closer the trio, she finally heard what they were arguing about.

“Reservoir Dogs was far superior to Pulp Fiction,” Shaggy 1 declared.

“Why? Because it was the first? The story isn’t nearly as interesting.” Shaggy 2 replied.

“It far more clever than. Pulp Fiction is too many plotlines in too short of time. He did too many things.” Shaggy 1 retorted.

“Not true,” Shaggy 2 continued. “Pulp Fiction is a great example of using interconnected stories in film. And the soundtrack is killer.”

Shaggy 3 said nothing, simply nodding at his friends.

Before Shaggy 1 could reply, Marilee broke in, “Nate, still debating Tarantino? You’d think you’d tire of the same argument day in and day out.”

Shaggy 1, or Nate as Harper now had to think of him, smiled at Marilee and Harper, “Well, you know I have strong opinions on his movies. And I love a good debate. Who’s your friend?”

“This is Harper. She writes the music column for the paper.” Marilee introduced Harper and the other two Shaggys, Brent and Jason.

“Marilee told me she knew the famous music pilgrimage girl. Nice to meet you. What are your thoughts on Pulp Fiction?” He asked, directing his gaze to Harper.

Harper wasn’t pleased with being called a “girl”, but at least he read her work. “I like Reservoir Dogs, inventive, fun, ambiguous at the end. Great use of music, some truly shocking moments. Pulp Fiction felt forced, like he wanted to make a great movie rather than just make one. However, Uma Thurman is genius and the soundtrack makes up for a lot of the problems.”

“See Brent? That’s exactly my point about Reservoir Dogs.” Nate smiled at Harper and moved away from Brent before the debate could continue. He moved closer to Marilee and Harper. As Harper thought back on it now, the rest of the evening passed in a blur of the two of them talking about music and movies and the other things people talk about as they get to know each other. Marilee floated away at some point. The night ended with Nate walking Harper back to her dorm. They had their first date two days later at a showcase for a bunch of local bands. Or rather, Harper thought it was a date. This thought jolted Harper back to the present and the current debate the two were having. Four months later, she wasn’t entirely sure they were dating or if they were friends with benefits. Or something else that she didn’t know how to define. Nate didn’t want to label things or be serious about anything. Harper thought he was being a jackass. Harper decided today was the day to bring this up again. She didn’t know why, but she had to do it.

“I’d rather not spend the entire rest of the evening debating this...again. We have some version of this conversation every few weeks, usually when you want to avoid talking about our relationship.” Harper watch Nate’s reaction closely.

“That conversation again?” Nate dropped her hand and crossed his arms defensively.

“Look, I’m not asking you to marry me, but I’m not comfortable being your debate partner and hook up. That’s not my thing.” Harper sat back in her chair.

“I like you a lot, Harper. You know that. You’re fun and one of the smartest people I know. You have great taste in music, although I question your love of Xanadu, but no one’s perfect.” Nate’s attempt at a joke fell flat.

“But?” Harper asked

“But? What do you mean ‘but’?”

“There’s a ‘but.’ ‘Harper, you’re great, but…’. Finish your thought.” Harper demanded.

“There’s no ‘but.’ I just don’t think we need to be so official. Labels are so passe. Why can’t we just spend time together and stuff? Why does it have to be more than that? We’re in college. We’re supposed to be having fun. Let’s have fun.” Nate reached for her hand again.

Harper sat further back in her chair. “I’m not really having fun. Maybe at first I was, but not anymore. It’s stressful and I feel like I’m wasting time with you. I’m also guessing you’re seeing other people if we’re just supposed to be having fun.” Harper finally said what had been sitting on her heart for a month.

“Wasting time? That’s pretty harsh. I don’t know how you could feel that way.” Nate looked hurt, but Harper wasn’t buying it. He also didn’t deny the other people comment.

“I’m not sure it’s harsh enough. I was pretty clear at the beginning that I don’t casually date or sleep around so don’t act like I’m the crazy one. You didn’t deny the other people comment, so there’s that too. We’re done.” She got up abruptly, shaking the table. Nate’s beer spilled across the table and into his lap.

“Harper, don’t leave. Let’s talk about this some more. I don’t want to lose you.” Nate grabbed her arm, trying to stop her from leaving.

“Nope. Nothing else to talk about. We’re wasting time. I don’t want to waste anymore time.” Harper shrugged him off and stomped out of the bar.

As soon as she was outside, Harper started to shake. Her breathing was short and she was suddenly sweating. She felt better than she had in a month, but she couldn’t help but be upset. He never denied seeing other people. She wanted to believe Nate was a good guy, but the fact that he didn’t argue that one point this time made her think otherwise. She was his debate partner who he occasionally slept with. She needed someone who wanted more than a debate. She didn’t want to be tired all the time. She wanted to be in love and to be loved back.

She made it back to her dorm, still in a dark mood. Marilee and Amelia were waiting for her. It’s almost like they knew she needed them to be there when she got home.

“Back your bag,” Marilee said, “We’re going to Georgia.”

Harper said nothing, but nodded at her friends. She quickly backed her overnight bag and grabbed a CD case for the car. The three women said nothing of Nate or love or the inevitability of music classification. They jumped in the car, heading to Athens, GA on another musical pilgrimage.

Sunday, January 7, 2018

2018: Art, Bugs, Croissants, and Getting Stuff Done

Hello to 2018! I've only written the date wrong twice this week, so that's something. The new year has started with a bomb...cyclone (see what I did there?) here on the East Coast. It's been freezing cold for the last week, but I ventured out of my house today to deliver my first "Fierce Women" tour at the museum. I figured we'd have a few intrepid visitors come out today. I was not prepared for almost 50 people on my tour today (more like 100 since we have two tours out at the same time). It was insane and awesome and a great reminder of why I volunteer at NMWA.

The "Fierce Women" tour started last year over the weekend of the Women's March. It was originally called the "Nasty Women" tour and was incredibly popular the weekend of the march. Our museum education team, the women who developed the tour, did something like nine tours that first weekend. They were scheduled to do two. Since the march, the tour has been renamed and a group of docents, myself included, have been trained to deliver the tour. The tour is very different from the regular highlights tours we do; it's irreverent, funny, and very feminist. It's based on the idea of museum hacking, bringing an unconventional approach to a museum tour. We highlight eight artists in our collection from the first professional woman artist, Lavinia Fontana to Mickalene Thomas, a modern painter responsible for the first portrait of Michelle Obama. It's a scripted tour, which is different for us docents as well, and we use a lot of source images to help tell the stories of these artists. We also get to tell jokes, racy stories, and add our own personal stories as appropriate.

I love this tour. It's more like performance art than any other tour I've ever given. It's fun, visitors get into it, and they participate. As an educator, one of the things I always think about when designing training is whether information will stick with learners/visitors. Classroom teachers think about this a lot too. The tour is fast-paced and we don't leave a ton of time for questions. What I observed today with my group was that they were getting it. They might not remember everything I said, but I can guarantee they remember a few nuggets and will keep their eyes out for women artists as they visit other museums. I'm also pretty certain this tour has inspired visitors to come back to visit NMWA again and again. They had fun and they learned something.

One of the artists included in this tour is Maria Sibylla Merian. Merian is one of the artists I had never heard of when I first started volunteering at the museum. She's a 17th and 18th century artist best known for her masterwork, Insects of Suriname. Merian always had an interest in insects, even growing silkworms in her room as a teenager. At the age of 52, she sold all of her possessions to fund an expedition to the Dutch colony of Suriname. Her younger daughter accompanied her on the journey, an unheard of act at that time. Women barely walked down the street alone, let alone travel to another country without a male chaperone. She spent two years documenting the life cycles of over 180 species in their natural habitats, trekking into the rainforest, through gardens, and onto plantations. Of course, she did it all in the fashion of the 17th century. I can't even imagine what she tracked in on those skirts. She came back to Europe, divorced the husband, joined a cult, left the cult, and reestablished her art and naturalist career. Her work was important in establishing the science of entomology, particularly because of the fact that she studied from life rather than from preserved specimens.

Merian's story constantly inspires me, as I shared with my group today. Think about it: she's 52, living in a society that doesn't allow her to join the scientific groups who benefit from her work, and people probably think she's a witch given the association of women and nature during this period. Instead of being a butterfly lady painter, she trekked into the rainforest and painted tarantulas the size of dinner plates and all sorts of other creepy, crawly creatures. Whenever I think to myself, "you can't do that" or "this is going to be terrible," Merian pops into my head and I forge ahead, even if it is terrible. I may not be going into the rainforest or helping to move science along, but I can be brave, intrepid, and daring in my own right.

So what am I planning on doing in 2018? I always establish goals at the start of every year. This year is my year of learning: I'm going to take classes, travel more, revamp my professional writing on LinkedIn, and finish my novel. I know it's a lot, but I feel really good about this list. This is going to be a great year.

My 2018 Goals - Remember kids, if you don't write your goals down and put them out in the universe, you won't actually do them. Nothing says accountability like posting my goals here on my blog. Y'all keep me honest.

  • Personal
    • Classes
      • Baking classes. Yes, I know how to bake delicious things BUT I also like learning new techniques. First up, croissant making at Sur La Table later this month.
      • Metalworking/Welding. No, I don't want to learn how to weld to fix cars or build a house or something more useful. I want to learn how to make jewelry and maybe metal sculptures.
      • Drums lessons/Sign up for We Rock camp - Some people box to get out their aggression, I think drumming will help meld my love of music with my need to occasionally hit things.
    • Craftivism & the Badass Herstory Project - I signed up to participate and stitch my story as well as be a project ambassador. This is going to be awesome.
    • Finish Transient Suburbia. No really, it will happen.
    • Monthly letter writing
    • Do yoga at home after I finish up my last seven courses at the studio.
  • Travel
    • Memphis in May - Foo Fighters show, Graceland, and BBQ with my brother. It's going to be awesome.
    • NYC at some point this year to see The Dinner Party at the Brooklyn Museum.
    • NOLA - it's been too long away from home.
    • Nashville - this might be a stretch, but I'm hopeful I can fit it in this year too.
  • Career
    • Publish 3-4 articles on LinkedIn.
    • Complete a certification course OR present at a conference.
    • Sign up for my local ATD chapter and attend one networking event.
Coming to the Island in 2018: Meal planning, part seven (I think) this time I share my experience with a meal delivery service, a bunch of new Lazy Movie Weekends, I learn some new skills, and a month of Stuff I Love.