Everyone puts their pants on the same way in the morning.

When I came out to Boston to go to school, I began to be bombarded with new ways of looking at the world. I began to feel extremely inadequate about many of my own views and talents I let my self become intimidated by almost everyone and everything, I was overwhelmed with the intelligence the talent and the incredible people I began to associate with and I began to start doubting my own ability to thrive in such a young and passionate city. It was then that I found my self falling into what Truman Capote’s fictional character Holly Golightly in Breakfast at Tiffany’s calls the “mean reds” which is simply “being afraid, yet not knowing what you are afraid of.”
Filled with the horrible mean reds at the beginning of my freshman year at the Conservatory I sat on the floor of my bathroom and talked and talked and talked to my mom until she was probably ready to explode, after talking for a good hour my mom finally interrupted me and said, “Katie, everyone puts their pants on the same way in the morning. You put on your pants in the same way that the President of the United States does as well as Michael Jordan and Miss Peggy Sue who lives around the corner does.” I did not know how to react at first so I laughed, because it is funny, but after listening to my mother I realized just how true that statement really is, “everyone puts their pants on the same way in the morning.” we are ALL Children of GOD and we all have the ability to do whatever righteous desire we wish to do with the talents that God has blessed us with. As we are all members of the human race adding our thread to the beautiful tapestry of humanity we may all choose to wear different pair of pants to express our individuality, culture and style but in the end we all put pants on the exact same way because we are ALL human and in the end “Everyone puts their pants on the same way in the morning.”

The People I see in Boston

The Beagle Men



Nearly every week I run into the “Beagle Men” walking the streets of Boston. It is always in a different location, whether it be in front of Whole Foods, my School or randomly on Boylston St. I almost always with out fail I run into the, “Beagle Men” weekly. Now you may be asking your self, who are the “Beagle Men” well yes indeed, who are the “Beagle Men?” In many cases, it is still a mystery to me who these men are, but this much I do know...The “Beagle Men” are these two wonderful oddly old shaped men that walk the streets of Boston with their fat sausage like beagles, it’s as simple as that, and they make me laugh, and they make me wonder, WHY? Why do they own beagles, are they brothers, best friends, acquaintances, partners, who knows? The thing is I have never talked to either of them and yet I feel distinctly connected to these two funny sweater-wearing old men. They are a part of Boston that makes it magical. So next time you come to Boston be on the lookout for these two oddly shaped old men and their fat sausage like beagles I am positive that they will brighten you day!

Get lost in a Gigantic omelet

Several months ago, January to be precise, my friend Maya and I could not figure out what to do with ourselves on a freezing Saturday night. After missing the movie that we had set out to go see we dejectedly began walking back to a place of warmth, or at least a place that could spark some new ideas for a brilliant Saturday evening excursion, one slightly frost bitten nose and several tingly toes later we finally arrived at Maya’s apartment and began brainstorming what we could do with the rest of our evening that would be simply unforgettable.
We looked up clubs on line and then realized that neither one of us was old enough to get into a club. We looked up local events but most of the events had already passed and so that left us back to square one. After a good ½ hour of research we began to get hungry and so we headed over to the kitchen to see what we could whip up. As we looked into Maya’s seemingly empty cupboards, we decided to resort to the refrigerator, finding eggs and an assortment of varied vegetables we decided that we would make ourselves a GIGANTIC omelet! As we began chopping the onions and tomatoes for our dinner, we started listening to some African music and by the time, we sat down for dinner we were both entranced by the music. One of us would take a bite of the omelet and then do some sort of dance movement, we continued with this game back and forth for several minutes until it turned into a full out improve jam in Maya’s living room! The omelet was delicious and it was as though we were feeding ourselves something magical letting us move to the inspiring African drums. As we danced into the dark January night, our food disappeared filling not only our bellies but also our souls.
So next time you are sitting around on a Saturday night without anything to do make your self an omelet and let the magic of the moment take over you.