Personal Essay

Everything was simple. My grandfather tossed the green canoe into the back of the pickup truck with ease, while I stood on a stool in the kitchen making an array of sandwiches for the trip. Peanut butter and jelly, turkey and cheese, ketchup and tuna fish; it didn’t matter, because today I was spending the day fishing with my grandfather, and I knew he’d love me even if he didn’t love my nearly non-edible concoctions.

I packed them into the cooler that my grandfather took out from the closet, and he smiled at me as I did so. I was six years old, and it was time for my first fishing trip. He picked me up and put me up on the high seat of his 95’ Dodge, which was brand new and had a fresh tank of gas for our trip. I was ready.

When we got to Jansen Lake, he pulled the canoe off of the truck, and strapped my life jacket on tight. “I don’t want anything happening to my little granddaughter”, he would say. We headed into the lake, the cold water pierced my feet; my shoes were already filled with water. I had the cooler in my lap, filled with my freshly made sandwiches and bottles of cranberry juice. We headed to the middle of the lake. My grandfather paddled across the serene water, and paused the boat. He reached into another cooler, a smaller one he had tucked in a duffel bag. “Time to get the bait ready! Those fish won’t jump for nothing!” He pulled out a container of worms, and started putting them on the hooks of the fishing poles.

I didn’t catch any fish that day, and neither did my grandfather. It didn’t matter though. For that day I felt like the most important and special little six year-old in the world. My grandfather was my hero that day, and still is fifteen years later. I will never forget that day on the boat, and I have a feeling he won’t either.

Runaway Review

The Runaways, starring Kristen Stewart and Dakota Fanning was a dark adventure through a past world of sex, drugs, and rock and roll, also known as the mid seventies.. Fanning plays Cherie Currie, a cookie cutter daughter turned rebel without a cause after meeting Joan Jett (Stewart), a badass wannabe rock star trying to make it big. In this film by Floria Sigismondi we see a truly uncensored world that had been stuck in the past, until brought to life again on the silver screen.
What was not as exciting as our glimpse back into grungy hotel rooms and teen angst at its finest, was the acting. Although Stewart surprising played a believable Joan Jett, Fanning fell short as a troubled youth. With lack of emotion and even facial expression in the film, we are forced to think maybe she hit her peak back when she was twelve. Fanning’s performance, although unlike any character she has played before, fell short on the acting scale, and brought back memories of her in fluffy meaningless film such as The Cat in the Hat and Uptown Girls. She is coded too innocent to play Cherie Currie and the audience is forced to try and cope with this miss-cast role.
Stewart on the other hand, has her role of Joan Jett to a T. She embarks on a journey of drugs, sex, and a plunge into adulthood, all before she is seventeen. She plays a believable part in the Runaways, adding something to the movie to shadow out Fanning’s role. This movie really made Stewart stand out as more than just a teeny-bopper vampire-lover, and could be the push she needed to break out into something no one is prepared for.

Hmmm...

Something that I have always been passionate about it writing. Whether it is poetry, short stories, longer stories, or plays, I have always loved it. I decided that when our assignment was to write about ANYTHING on our blog, I figured it was a good opportunity to write a poem. I was sitting in Starbucks when I got out of work the other day, and just started writing. This is what I came up with. Any feedback would be great!


Dodging Shadows

She faded softly into his film:
Winding softly, stroking pigments.
A character in his indie film,
Named Skye or Fallon,
Or some other name that she wished
She could call her own.
Her untamed nature set fire to the tin house.
Angsty youth at its finest.
Her tangled hair twists like twined bodies
Enveloped in ardor.
Loose curls loose hands loose hearts.
Bronzed porcelain skin against inked dynastic memories,
She is lost in a black and white silence.
Burning alone amongst stars she breathes
Him in, hoping to enthrall her being with a
Vibrance of meaning.
A thread of vivacity.
Anything to make her exhale.
She is an autumn day shedding leaves to be reborn.
She is a walking cancer,
She is his emotional downfall.
She wants to be called home,
But tonight
No one will answer the door.

Heart Cafe

Nashua, NH (March 3, 2010) -- Heart Café, the first all vegan food restaurant, will be opening its doors Saturday, May 22, 2010 at 245 Main St in Nashua, NH.

Alicia Silverstone will be sponsoring our opening, including cutting the ribbon and having a book signing of her best selling food guide, The Kind Diet. Local band Me vs. Me will be headlining our opening day as well, playing tracks off their upcoming album.

Heart Café will be opening at 10am and guests are welcome to arrive at that time. Free samples of vegan foods will be served during the book signing, as well as later in the afternoon. Take home menus will be available, as well as information on our take-out, delivery, and catering menus.

A raffle will be held for the first 100 people to arrive, with prizes including a free autographed copy of The Kind Diet, meal vouchers, and coupons!

So don’t wait! Sign up now for our free newsletter and to hear of other upcoming events such as poetry readings, live music, and celebrity guests. Go to www.heartcafenashua.com for more information.

Thank you,
Heather Anderson
Heart Café Manager/Owner

Vegan Restaurant

For our Media Writing project, I am going to create a vegan restaurant/coffee shop to be opened in Nashua, NH. Having just learned of the trendy eating habits of vegans about two years ago, I thought a restaurant that services people with stricter eating habits would be a great idea. I have yet to come up with a name for my business, but it is definitely in the works! I do, however, have some ideas to make this restaurant unique and unlike any other of its kind.

Many people don't fully understand what vegan-ism is. It is a diet about 11% of the US population follows, and has very strict boundaries. Basically, vegans will not eat anything that contains an animal product. This means, no cheese, milk, butter, meat, gravy, eggs, and all other types of animal product. Many will read this and think there is no way they can give up so many foods that they eat everyday, but on the contrary, there are lots of foods that are completely vegan that you just don't know are! Peanut butter, Pop Tarts, Hershey's chocolate syrup, cracker jacks, Fritos, Krispy Kreme Pies, and even bagels are examples of vegan foods.

My cafe will not serve as many vegan snack foods as it will nutritious meals, however. It will be a lunch time cafe, probably only open between 11am and 3pm. It will have a unique menu, (I have been researching vegan meals and recipes) and I want it to appeal to a wide variety of people, not just ones who already follow the vegan movement.

I am also hoping to have specialty days, maybe a poetry reading on Thursdays, or some mellow live music on Friday afternoons. Hopefully this cafe will be able to help people in changing over to a completely vegan diet, but if not just help people understand the benefits of it. I'll have more ideas and hopefully a menu in the works by the next post, but for now I am just brainstorming different ways to make this restaurant really succeed.

I'm twenty years old; twenty-one in three months. I am in my third year of college and have already received an associates degree. I have one year until I earn my bachelors, and I still have absolutely no idea what I want to be when I grow up.

Since I can remember, I have wanted to do many things in life. I wanted to be a painter when I was five, but realized I might as well have been color blind. I didn't have an eye for paint, drawing, or clay, so that was the end of that dream.

When I was a older, I decided I wanted to be a guitarist. Being so young I didn't understand that I actually had to know how to play in order to base my life around it. I have had many other dream jobs as well: horseback rider, professional swimmer, teacher, singer, actor, dancer, fashion designer, and even professional chess player. With so many options in life, I never wanted to limit myself to one career and I still don't want to. Maybe next year when I earn my Bachelors Degree in Communications I'll decide, but until then I'm happy with the uncertainty.

500 words or less

"Bad Posture" by Artist Lisa Rae Winant

Image used by permission of the Artist
12 x 14 / oil on panel

Her hand reached out to touch someone, but her jagged edges were too sharp to let anyone close. Her posture was sunken, afraid to stand straight after being bent and broken all too many times. Green nothing stretched out to her, bringing her back to her heaven of smoky warmth filling her throat, her body, her soul, clogging up the feelings she wished to let out. Breathe. A prying eye leaned over her shoulder exhaling heavily the smell of sharp onions and spice, enveloping her.

“What is it you are looking at?” he roughly stated, all the while being much too close to someone who wanted no one around. No response was given to his words. Charcoal dripped down her eyes washing itself into her pale cheeks. She lights up a cigarette, sparking fire. Breathe. The unwelcome visitor walked away, limping whilst holding a wooden cane, clutching it firmly in his right hand. Pastel surrounded her in a circling motion lifting her up, and driving dust and dirt away.

Each day she waits. Waits. Wondering if by some miracle the something she was waiting for would arrive. Pushing air, she outreaches her hand each time, hit with nothing more than another gust. She waits. The man comes back some days later, leaning over her shoulder again, smelling this time of leather and peppermint.

“What are you looking at, dear?” This time he speaks with compassion. But no answer is spoken. Again the woman watches the gentleman walk off, struggling to gain control of his cane, shaking his head at her. And she waits. Waits. The same array of color surrounds her tightly, wrapping her fragile body into a wave of melodic silence; temping her to fall into its grace. Another cigarette is lit, surging another fire right in front of her sunken eyes.

Moons pass by, and each twilight she grows frailer. The elder approaches again, this time, without a word spoken. He stands next to her, still close enough as he had in past days; close enough to feel the chill of her. He smells of menthol; hard smoky familiarness this time. Extending his arm, he flickers his lighter at her, igniting the cigarette in her hand. She smiles, lightly. And they stand. Not a word passed between them. And they wait together this time. The ocean of air did not surrounded her or consume her this time. Everything is going to be alright. And they wait.