Starving Student Christmas Special: DIY Fresh Wreath!

I worked at an arts and crafts store for three years and over time I worked my way into positions I enjoyed very much. When I wasn’t lurking in yarn and t-shirt crafts, I was “staging” or putting together displays. One year I did all of the large Christmas displays, and it was the most fun I’d ever had at work (before or since. There’s really nothing like getting up at 4am to head to work in ratty work clothes to spray flock paper trees. Yes, that happened.). Working at said arts and crafts store wasn’t easy on family. I basically made them start taking holidays other than Christmas seriously (I’m still bitter that no one puts up my Halloween decorations when I’m not there, and let’s not even get started on the pumpkin wreath). One of the things that no one saw coming was my love of wreath making. There’s just something so satisfying about making something that, when placed on a front door, everyone can see!

Since I worked at this big store, I always decorated faux wreaths. It actually makes more sense- they are easier to manipulate, they don’t drop needles everywhere, you can hot glue stuff to them, and then you can reuse them the next year! All you have to do is find somewhere to store them, and in SoCal, that isn’t really an issue. But when I moved to NYC last year, I found that I couldn’t get a fake wreath to decorate because…I have nowhere to store it. Seriously. Space is nonexistent and the little storage space I do have is dedicated to shoes. So a real wreath it was. I went to the dollar store and found some decorations, and then went to Home Depot and dropped a ridiculous amount of money on a real wreath. When I could get a fake one for five bucks, that felt like ugh, but it was what we had, so that’s what we had. After Christmas, I saved my decorations and pitched the wreath.

This year though, I went to the greenmarket and spent a whopping five dollars on a bunch of tree boughs and made my own wreath! It was my first time doing so, but I’m pretty dang proud of it. Factor in the fact that I used yarn I already had along with metal hangers to put it together and decorated it with last years decorations, and woot, this is one affordable wreath! I should note that I wasn’t aiming for one of those super fluffy, full wreaths. This was simple, with the intention of bringing a smile to the face of whoever catches sight of it. I think I achieved that!

 

Here’s how I did it!

 

 

 

Four tree branches, some yarn, scissors, box cutter, metal clothes hangers (3ish), and a broom.

Play bendy straws with the branches, and start tying them together in a line that will eventually become a circle.

But Allie! you say – this is super weak and isn’t holding a shape! Ah my little crafters, that’s where the clothes hangers come in. Unbend a few of those suckers and just start wrapping them around your wreath, and you’ll find that all of a sudden, it all gels. (Don’t tell my boyfriend I was playing with pointy metal things. Apparently I look like one of those people who will just walk into traffic, so y’all be safe now with your eyeballs and the sharp things, y’hear?)

Hang it up on a door, and notice that it’s kind of scraggly.

That’s ok, just start playing with it. Cut off the extra bits and put them where there is less. Can that extra piece just be tucked behind a wire? Probably!

Once you’re done playing with it to get it more even looking, now you can decorate it or leave it be. Since I had decorations, I put them up there. See how I put more flowers on the left to balance out the right side?

Enjoy your fresh, awesome-smelling, pride-inspiring wreath, and then go sweep your floor!

 

Where mine is on display!

Thunder

Summer on the East Coast is an interesting amalgamation of weird. I love how warm it stays at night- leaving the house without a sweater after the sun goes down is something I had never imagined doing. While the sun is definitely going down earlier now, for a while there it seemed like it was staying up forever and even late, late at night it felt like it was light out.

(This could also be because hello, New York City. I think it was a little of both.)

There are of course things I hate about the East Coast in the summertime. To absolutely no one’s surprise, it’s the humidity. I hate, detest, deplore, abhor, hold in abomination (thanks dictionary.com!) the humidity. At the very most, it makes me want to die and at the very least makes me want to cut all of my hair off. You know how I have somewhat curly hair? (Or at least, it can be somewhat curly hair?) Yup. That sucks. So does trying to go to sleep at night when it’s 78 degrees and 70% humidity.

But there is one thing that I have learned to love about summer on the East Coast. Thunderstorms.

I have no desire to be out in them. Thunderstorms are spectator-only sports from my point of view. I love to see the clouds roll in- black and scary and all of a sudden the world just looks different. The thunder starts from far away, just low rumbles that could almost be the 7 train, but happen too often and just a touch to loud to be the train. Then a crack or two of lightening, and all of a sudden the sky opens up and the rain comes down and for 10 minutes all there is is the music of rain and lightening and thunder. And maybe the far-off shriek or two of the nearby pedestrian who missed the signs.

Of course, there is the storm or two that just scares the crap out me. One night I got woken up by a giant bang right over my head and before I knew it I had my head under the covers and I was on the phone with Rachel for an hour, with the storm going the whole time. I was completely terrified.

Even still, I love the storms. I’ll miss them come fall, but by then I’ll be focused on the cooler weather, the reemergence of my knitting needles, and the changing colors all around. I’ll forget these afternoon storms and instead be happy watching the rain come down all day from my bed, running around in rainboots and my jacket with my polka dotted umbrella and a scarf.

Until next summer, when the storms come back.

My uneasy relationship with ironing.

Two days ago, after I did all of my laundry, I was trying to get ready for work and found that I had nothing to wear. One of those days where by the time I left the house, there was this giant pile of clothing on my bed from trying something on, taking it off, trying the next thing on, taking it off. I don’t know what was up with me, but I do know that a lot of stuff got rejected for one reason, and one reason only: it wasn’t ironed.

Which is ridiculous, because what I DID end up wearing, I had to iron anyway!

But what’s my problem with ironing? Yeah, it isn’t my most favorite thing ever, but I don’t mind it that much (I like nice, neat clothes). Except for this one time when we were having Thanksgiving and my mom decided that every single tablecloth in the house had to be ironed, and then only thing I did that day was iron. All day long. It was awful.

But I digress- tablecloth ironing isn’t the same as not having anything to wear because I couldn’t be bothered to iron it as soon as it came out of the wash. I have a theory about this. Growing up, everything that had to be ironed in our house got put in a laundry basket, in theory for it all to be ironed at the same time and then hung up and then worn, so that there was never any “you can’t wear that it isn’t ironed!” drama at 9.30 on a Sunday morning when church was at 10. In reality, the ironing basket was a place that clothes went to die. Once a skirt went it there, it never came out, and I can recall distinct occasions when someone would be going through the basket and shout out “THIS HAS BEEN HERE THE WHOLE TIME?!” It was more likely that something would get washed, chucked in the ironing basket, and then dug out about 15 minutes before it was needed, with much shrieking and waving of arms and chaos. I also had this sneaking suspicion that clean clothes stuffed in a basket were no longer clean. That’s completely irrational, but that’s what I thought.

So I have this distrust of a basket who’s supposed purpose in life is just to be a pit stop for clean clothes between washer and closet whilst being ironed. But I haven’t found that doing it my way is any better. I wash clothes, dry them (hang drying, because they’ll dry flatter or neater or less wrinkly, right? not really), and then put them away. So that then when I want to wear my favorite black skirt from Banana Republic, it’s stuck in my closet, super wrinkly, needing to be ironed, and I need to leave for work three minutes ago. But at least I know that the clothes are there? That I’m less intimidated by the thought of ironing only one or two things instead of a giant basket of clothes that resembles more of an archaeological dig than the contents of my closet? That this is why if I had a million dollars, I’d dry clean everything and never have to deal with it?

There’s got to be a better way.

A cry for help in the fruity darkness

I am a good cook. My squash and leek soup is tasty, my chocolate chip oatmeal cookies are always loved, my cupcakes are adventurous and tasty, and my fudge has its own reputation. But it’s come to my attention lately that I can’t do something that may be hindering my time in the kitchen.

I cannot cut fruit.

Seriously. I think this is because while growing up, throwing a Cloyd party always meant certain things, and one of them was that I did the dusting and vacuuming because Becca is allergic to basically everything in our house, so she was always in the kitchen for hours chopping whatever came her way. This means that now I can vacuum like a pro and Becca can probably enter a world championship chopping contest. I can chop other things, and do- but if Becca’s around, I’ll almost always defer to her judgement, or I’ll just give it to her to do. This last weekend for the graduation party was the first time I ever cut up a pineapple. I LOVE pineapple, but I’ve never had one on my own because I didn’t know what to do with it!

But learn I did, and it gave me a new confidence in my fruit-cutting abilities. Apparently too much though, because today I tried to cut up a mango, and all I did was mangle it instead.

Fruit fail.

Would anyone like to teach me how to cut a mango? I’ll make you cookies!

Protected: Awkward: I resigned at MoMA after my first day. Here’s why.

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password:

To my baby sister on the occasion of her high school graduation

Dear Small Child-

Congrats! You made it through high school without dying, killing anyone, committing terribly violent acts, getting knocked up, doing drugs, dropping out, or any of the other ten thousand things adults think teenagers do on a regular basis. Instead, you read probably a gazillion books, got into some awesome universities, got a job, went to dance 5 days a week, did well in school, and had some fun shenanigans with your friends. I’m so proud of you. High school can be really crappy, and I know you had some hard times, but you did it, and you did it with style.

Which is a good thing, because you are lucky number 13 to graduate from SP and it would have been sad if you’d messed it up. Just kidding. Sort of. It’s hard to be the youngest, and you’re a double whammy, being the youngest Cloyd sister AND the youngest Cloyd period. I could always deflect by saying “not my brothers, my cousins” but you and B didn’t have that option once I went through, and you’ve always been stuck being defined first as our little sister and second as yourself. I’m so glad that you’re coming to a school and a city that neither knows nor cares that we exist. To be honest, New York doesn’t care about you right now either, but that’s the beauty of the city. Everyone makes it care in their own way. You’re going to define your new world with smallish boundaries, and keep expanding them and pushing them and before you know it you’re going to be this amazing new-but-the-same version of Rachel that for the first time has had the chance to say, “this is my world, and this is how I do it, and it is good.” You’ll be like Bill Gates but instead of Windows 7 it’s Rachel 2.0. Everyone has a 2.0 version. It still has some bumps and hangups and glitches, but in general it’s a much more enjoyable ride than the previous operating system.

Enough of the computer metaphor. Or analogy. Whichever. Let’s talk about how excited I am for you to live in New York. I’ve missed you so much this last year, and while it was probably good for both of us to have this year to grow the heck up (in my case), I’m so excited for Doctor Who together and taking you out for a milkshake on your birthday and doing Christmasy things together. That being said, I’ll feel lucky if I get to see you once every couple of weeks, or even every week for Doctor Who- frosh year of college is so new and so exciting that I doubt you’ll have very much time for your much older and much more boring big sister, and that’s ok. In fact, that’s perfect and to be expected. I’m here and Becca’s here if you need anything, so just give a shout. But don’t tell me what you’re doing every Friday. I’m sure you’ll be at home studying, so why waste your breath telling me that?

Work your ass off this summer. You’ll like having money when you move out here. It’s really much more fun to live in New York when you have money to spend, and while you won’t actually have money to spend, you’ll spend it anyway, so better to have more than less. Don’t forget to go to the beach while you still can though. I haven’t checked it out, but I’ve heard the beach here is quite different from what we’re used to. At any rate, no palm trees here, so take advantage while you can.

Also, no more clothes shopping until you move here. You’ll enjoy it more when you can say, “I bought it in New York!”

All my love,

Your most favorite oldest sister.

To my little sister on the occasion of her college graduation

Dear Patsy-

You did it! Graduation, yay! You get to wear that splendid purple gown with the mis-matched black mortarboard and your shiny golden tassle (honors scholar, ye-yeah!) and march around and be generally awesome. You tend to be generally awesome, did you know that? I’ve always admired how you see something you want and you go get it. You wanted to go to NYU- you did. You wanted to be in Gallatin- you were. You wanted to be an RA- you did that too! You wanted to intern at Penguin- dammit, you did that one too. It is not an un-impressive list of accomplishments that you have. You’ve met some amazing people at NYU and made incredible friends. You’ve handled my move to New York with rather remarkable grace; the same with Rachel’s upcoming one. Thanks for sharing your city with us. We appreciate it. I like being able to do stuff with you and I’m so glad for the chance we’ve had to become better friends.

I know that everyone has their ups and downs and sometimes it seems to go more one way than the other but in my not-at-all humble opinion that’s just the way the universe works and it all evens out in the end. There’s a trailer for a movie that looks way above our age group (The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, but we’re going to see it anyway) that has a line I adore: “In India we have a saying: everything will be alright in the end. So if it is not alright, it is not the end.” We don’t need to discuss whether or not this is actually a saying, but I like the idea behind it (also: “Like the coast of Florida? Yup, but with more elephants.”). I won’t say any more about it, except that I expect a steady stream of ARCs to be sent to my house over the course of your career.

But Allie! you say- aren’t you forgetting something rather important? Like the fact that I graduated FIVE MONTHS ago? Nope! There’s something magical about walking across the stage in front of God and everyone, praying that you don’t trip over your wedge sandals, taking ten million pictures, all those dinners out, Disneyland, the grad party at home, the grad party here- it makes it real. It makes it fun. It let’s YOU know that the rest of us appreciate all the hard work you put into college. From those of us that have already done it, congrats! Now you can get a move on on that thing they call “real life.” From those of us that have yet to do it, congrats! You made it look awesome. ‘Cause you are.

All my love,

Your most favorite big sister

The Half-Way Point

Well boys and girls, it’s May 4th and I’m done for the semester. Also, I’m half-way through grad school! Huzzah! I don’t know how I’m already halfway through, but there it is.

To recap! Thus far in grad school I have:

-worked as a Graduate Assistant for a Ph.D. and in the school library. I make a little money, which I then spend shopping on Fifth Avenue.

-interned at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in the European Sculpture and Decorative Arts Department, archiving the James Parker Papers and contributing to the finding aid (which you can see here! And my name is on it!!)

-interned at the Oskar Diethelm Library, DeWitt Wallace Institute for the History of Psychiatry, Weill Cornell Medical College. I’ve processed over 450 items in the Prints and Photographs Collection, re-housing and cataloging each item. I had the world’s best boss and I’m super sad to leave.

-taken 6 of my 12 required courses, including a Digital Archives class where I contributed to the design of an online archive for oral histories owned by the AFS (which will eventually be here, but I will post when it’s up so y’all can go look at it) and my Reference course, where I researched, wrote, and produced a 3 minute video on the history of Broadway, the avenue. You can see that on YouTube, at the SILS Student Showcase in you’re here in NYC on Tuesday!, or on our class blog at miNYstories. I highly recommend checking out the site. I was amazed at the work my classmates did (there are a couple of standouts) and I learned something new from each one!

-learned so much in only two semesters about libraries and archives, and I’m so excited for the rest of the year!

Coming up, I have a two week class at the Met, taught by Ken Soehner, the head at Watson, where I’m going to write my own exhibition catalog (more or less), May 14-25. Becca is graduating from NYU in less than two weeks! Then I go home for a week for Rachel’s graduation (wahh I feel so old), and come back to start my internship June 5th. That is almost-but-not-quite nailed down, so I’m not saying where at, but if you were on my FB a few weeks back, you’d know. June 21st I take off for Anaheim (back to California, yayy!) to attend the ALA Annual Conference for four days. I can’t wait for that. I’ll be tweeting the whole time and blogging on the Pratt SILSSA website, so stay tuned! After ALA, it’ll be internship, beach, summer bbqs, a trip to Ithaca, a trip to DC, and just waiting for friends to come back from adventures abroad and the arrival of the last Cloyd girl in NYC!

This summer is going to be awesome.

User Error x1000

So if you ever feel like you did something really, really stupid to your computer or phone- like the mother of all stupid acts- just remember what I did today in the school Mac lab.

I was getting a video off of my SD card for a friend,

See that spot on the bottom? That's the SD card reader. See that spot on the top? that's where one would put a DVD. Or if you aren't paying attention, a wayward SD card.

and instead of inserting my SD card into the SD slot, I jammed it into the optical reader. And then had to go get a tech person who turned off my computer, tipped it on its side, and fished it out with a straightened paper clip.

 

So if you do something dumb and you have to go find your local friendly IT help desk geek, just remember you aren’t the first, and you probably won’t be the last. Unless it’s as spectacularly dumb as this. Then join the club. We have t-shirts!

Dude, where’s my semester?

So Spring 2012 is almost done. It’s very clearly crunch time. How do I know? For you, dear reader, a list.

1. My bed doesn’t get made every day. This is kind of a big deal, because I don’t have a desk. I do all of my work on my bed, and when it isn’t made I’m doing my work IN my bed and at the end of the semester this means when I’m home I’m either sleeping, eating, or working, and it’s hard to tell one activity from another if the bed ain’t made.

2. At least one FB status update a day is about a paper OR I get a FB post from a friend that goes something like this: “OH MY GOSH HOMEWORK SCHOOL PAPERS FINALS HAIR ON FIRE.”

3. I. have. no. desire. to. work.

4. I have multicolored lists for every class and a master due date list taped right next to my bed, where it can give me panic attacks when I try to go to sleep at night.

5. I left my internship an hour early today to work on a paper, and instead took a nap first thing. At 5.15 in the afternoon. It’s now 8.30p and the paper still isn’t done. Procrastinating much?

But the good news is that the semester is over May 4th, then I have a week off to finish up at my internship/play around/get organized for the summer, whereupon I’ll start (and hopefully conquer! such a good word) a two week class at the Met, then both sisters are getting gradumacated, then I’ll start my internship (which hasn’t been finalized, but when it is, I’ll celebrate with a blog post. Or a drink. Whatevs), then I go to the ALA Annual Conference in June! Oh, and keeping up with the amigos, fun reading, figuring out how to get to the beach, and the work I actually get paid for.