neighborhood b-o-n-d-i-n-g

I've had some lonely moments, particularly last winter, that left me yearning for some kind of connection with the human race other than just my peers at school.  So, long story short, I decided to start a club.  In our neighborhood.

The club I came up with is titled "the Pizza and a Movie Club," and acts as an anti-book club for all teens and tweens within roughly four blocks of each other.  Activities consist of exactly what is listed in the title: eating pizza and watching a movie.  We've had four meetings so far (which are once a month), and each has been at a different kid's house.  The kid gets to pick the movie and order the pizza.

1. how?  huh?  
I passed out flyers (litterally) to neighborhood parents, advertising the club.  They looked like this:

Parents responded postitively, saying they were sure their kids would be into it.  I did not, however, recieve any RSVPs.  I had to go through the neighborhood directory and personally call each household I was fairly familiar with.  HOT TIP: get a neighborhood directory.

The phone calls were a kinda scary, but if you keep a friendly tone, little can go wrong.  I said something along the line of, "As a teen, I'm starting a neighborhood club for teens and tweens.  Pizza.  Movie.  Yes?"

2. through the birth canal, the graphic arrival of P&M Club
I called each potential member three times.  Once to get their contact info, then the second time to see what Friday/Saturday they were available.  A few dates matched up for everybody.  I called a third time to verify that the club would indeed exist.  It would be hosted at my house.

3. setup
A clean house and some snacks on the table are good staples, in my mind.  I was sure to have activities available, like cards or Wii or boardgames, but those never happened.  For an hour, the kids were content to just sit and talk.  The next three meet-ups were like this.  If you have a particularly stoic collection of tweens and teens in your neighborhood, I think extra activities are useful.  Otherwise, the party just... GOES.  I cannot emphasize this enough.

4. and the moral of the story is...
If you want to start a club, you are officially the mom of that club until it learns to fly.  It's a little bird.  You're teaching it.  To fly.  You're the mom.  It's a bird.  You got it.  SO, you are required to tirelessly contact all potential members.

After this is complete, the club has zero requirements (other than its required activities, of course).  No one has to get along, no one has to talk, no one has to bond.  Socializing is like - if I may present you with another metaphor - taking a shower.  You feel good afterwards, even if you were just standing there.  After a few meet-ups, it's OK if the club dissentegrates.  Chances are, though, that people will feel joyful to have a place to go and people to see on a friday night.

tie dye afternoon

Tie dye may seem like your AVERAGE afternoon activity, but the process has remained somewhat of a mystery to me - and a few of my friends.  Thus, you have an afternoon activity that is sure to excite and engage!  

Picking only ONE unusual task to attack with friends (as opposed to five or six) is usually a guaranteed success, given the task isn't that difficult.  Tie dye, it turns out, isn't.  Here's how:

Pick out some white shirts!

Find a bucket in your basement.  You have one, I promise.  Fill with hot water and ~*soda ash*~, then add the shirts.  Dance around for 20 minutes, letting the shirts soak.

Ring out your shirts, then proceed to rubber band them.  Instructions for making different designs will be included in the box, but there's also the internet - and your own lively imagination!  I am a fan of the accordion fold and the little nubs.

Go outside to do this!

You probably want to put on some rubber gloves for the dying, but if you prefer not to, it washes off in two days.  I recommend covering almost the entire shirt in dye for a BOLD effect.

Wrap your gross, damp, dye-covered shirts in plastic wrap, then stick in grocery bags.  Let your shirts "sleep" over night, then return to them around the same time the next day.

When it comes time to reveal your shirt, maybe call your friends and have everyone do it at the same time.  Maximum funness!

Rinse your beautiful creation in cold water.  Hang to dry.  Wash in the washing machine after this, but don't let your shirt in with the other clothes until one or two washes.

love letter

surviving procrastination

Free time almost feels sweeter when it's not supposed to be free time.  Those first moments home after a long day feel infinitely pleasurable.  The pleasure must never end!  In those moments, it is OK to gorge on all things microwavable.  It is OK to sing "Single Ladies" (yes, in proper quotation) at the top of your lungs and film yourself in the process.  

It is not OK to do this for long.  

You know.

You can't stop.  ("The pleasure must never end!")

You WILL stop.  Here's how!

1.  Step away from the computer

You don't have to start your homework - just step away.  Just get away from it.  You can come back soon.  Just spend five minutes doing nothing.  Away from the computer.

2.  Deal with it.

The only acceptable time to start your homework is now.  All other times are shameful.  Though your stomach cringes at the thought of prying yourself away from nothing at all, this is not a matter of emotion.  This is a matter of survival.  

3.  Face the day's agenda

Look your to-do list in the eye and locate the easiest, dumbest task.  Do that one.  Maybe there are other more challenging items you'd really like to cross off.  Ignore their incessant plea for attention and do your math worksheet.  It's easy.

4. Timer?

Even having selected the easiest item on your to-do list, you still don't feel like doing it.  Start a timer for five minutes and dive in.  When it's gone off, I promise your mind will have evolved into an intellectual genius.  If not, do this a few times

and return to your five-minute method.

5.  At this point

At this point your problem should be solved.  Otherwise, I got nothin'.  JUST KIDDING!  I do believe, however, that the most effective way to rid your body of procrastination is to simply STOP.  

You do (procrastinate), until you don't.  

But hey, here's one last method:

I make bad iMovies when I don't want to do my homework. 

you and your friends are movie stars

This one's simple.  Strap on some nerf guns, sunglasses, and stretchy plastic skirts.  Then go pose by a wall.  Your mom, another friend, or a camera stand can help you get some dramatic full-body shots. The main goal?  Look like the people on action movie posters.  You are out there to save the world, save yourself, or save some obscure object, and you're gonna do it well.

Step #2 is a bit more tricky.  Photoshop.  If you don't know how to upload your photos onto the computer, photoshop will be particularly hard.  Once you're there, here are some tips:

"Enhance"
This will be the tab at the very top of the screen.  Click, navigate down to "adjust lighting."  Select "Brightness/Contrast" from the pull-down menu.  This will allow you to brighten your image.

"T"
The green T on the lower-ish left hand side of the screen will allow you to add text.  By selecting it, there will be setting options at the bottom of the screen.  You can change the color, size, or style of the text.

Layers
These will be stacked up in little rectangular boxes along the right hand side of the screen.  Drag the boxes before or after each other, allowing multiple layers of text to align in different ways.  See the top photo as an example.

Then just fool around with shapes.  Have fun!

tokens of appreciation, part 2

A friend of mine has a soft spot for Disney fairy movies.  My usual response to her enthusiasm is, "eh, fairy movies are for babies, right?"  I'm actually not this cruel in person, but the whole tinker bell thing has remained a distant Disneyland memory.  I recall my five-year-old self, feeling woozy after many hours of draining sunlight, unicorn lollipops, and overwhelming simulation rides.  Tinker bell wings got me through it.  *EMOTION*

I agreed to see a fairy movie with her, though, because I was curious.  She gave me this card before viewing Walt Disney's Tinker Bell.  It reads,

Dear Zoe,

You are cordially invited to your very first fairy film gala.  May you have a magical evening!

Pleasantly, (my buddy)

I was super pumped to see the movie after reading her little note.  How charming!  Tinker Bell, it turns out, was as restorative as eating s'mores by an evening campfire.  Simple, but joyful to watch.  The animation was buttery and smooth and made me forget about stupid age restrictions.  Besides, behind every children's movie is a message worth receiving.  Those kids hafta get something out of it.   In Tinker Bell's case, it was that we should all accept ourselves for who we are, and use our OWN skills to bring good into the world, not other people's.

what.

Alright, so how about a little back story on this here photo/collage?  You see, each morning I flip through magazines while eating breakfast.  Sometimes I flip through catalogs, which I find especially satisfying.  There's something magnificent about reading a paragraph on why you should buy this particular swimsuit, or why these shoes are so perfect for the season.  That, and the photography - some catalogs have great photography.

So after years of doing this, I've gradually started itching to make catalogs of my own.  Why not describe my on pair of imaginary pants?

Have I bored you?
Take THIS!

This is the result of one of my cravings to make catalog spreads, only I didn't add the words.  I cut-and-pasted images from around the web to form Amy Poehler and Carrie Brownstein's Day at the Beach.  "Beach Fun."  I could have added words, but I think we can all agree it's weird enough already.

tokens of appreciation, part 1

When three of my (somewhat shy) friends chose to get out there and try out for the school play, I was amazed by their bravery.  I mean, pretending to be another person... in front of someone... enthusiastically?  That sounds really scary.  I wanted them to know how cool a thing they had just done was, and did so by making these cards of Adoration.  

Sure, it's got my face on it, but it also has theirs!  This was simply the most straightforward way for me to tell them I thought they were brave.  When I'm brave, I want someone to point it out.  I DEMAND IT.  I don't demand it.  But I'm just saying it's a nice thing to do.

The back looks like this.  They're around 2x3 inches, on card stock.  I used colorful markers like these.  You can get the little cards, pre-cut (also know as "Artist Trading Cards"!!!) at any art store.

When you've made a few, just hand them to your friends whenever convenient.  They're very portable.  You can even make some blank ones to hand out spur-of-the-moment, in case you witness an act of bravery first hand.  

Also -- are you worried you won't be able to draw a little chibi version of yourself?  I've even gone so far as to make a teeny tutorial on that, because I really want to be an advocate for these cards.  If all else fails, though, just make something up.  It's not about the art, it's about the APPRECIATION, people.  

community moment: nia movement class

In search of dance classes for people who have never danced (or moved - ever), I came across this "Nia Movement" thing inside our local parks and recreation guide.  It had absolutely no description, except for claiming to be a very fun movement-y class.  Given that all the other classes were either too boring-sounding (ballet) or too intimidating (kickboxing), I went ahead and signed up for Nia.  It's every Tuesday, at the senior center.  

For some reason, I didn't picture old people when I envisioned walking into the senior center on the day of my first class.  I pictured a dense crowd of young go-getters.

No, the building was vacant and dimly lit, smelling distinctly of perfume, cheap furniture, and exercise equipment.  There were hints of balding grey heads within the corridors.  Don't get me wrong - I have nothing against people who are old.  Or young.  I have nothing against people.  It's just that... I'm not old.  I felt a tad out of my element.

Still, I pursued my assigned exercise room.

Awaiting me were three ladies over the age of 70, and a short, exhausted-looking woman who appeared to be the instructor.  She smiled tensely, and the women behind stared straight ahead.  

The class began with a grand total of five people, all regulars.  My instructor had us stand in a circle and say our names.  She recognized me as new and told me, "I don't like to give people an exact description of what Nia IS - I like to let YOU figure that out," which was cool.

With that, she bounced over to a CD player on the floor, which blared jazzy music.  She adjusted a microphone to her ear and started instructing.

From here on, I was blasted into the wild world of Nia, which turned out to be a well-synchronized combination of every form of dance there is to learn.  We started out with some Yoga, transitioned into Jazzercise, then Bollywood, then (you guessed it) kickboxing, and even a bit of modern dance.  Between moves she had us make up our own stuff and really express our inner emotion, which gave the experience an even sillier vibe than it had before.  

The ladies were fit.  They were experienced.  They were almost better than me, except for being in their cranky older-than-teenager bodies.  Near the end, a particularly talented woman next to me whispered, "Way to go, Zoe!"  

"Thanks, Sally," I said.

I'm happy I signed up.