Comparing versions of Jenna Gravino's Page
Showing changes between September 29, 2021 at 4:36:00 pm (crossed out) and September 29, 2021 at 5:03:10 pm (underlined)
Name: Jenna Gravino___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
August 31st Reflection
Okay, so looking back on our last class I can say that I was not in my best form. I got sick last Sunday and I'm just now recovering and feeling close to normal. I'll say that I had little interest in joining the conversation about grant writing, mostly due to my condition, but when the ethics debate ensued my ears perked up a bit. Ethics debates are always fascinating aren't they? Personally, I'll never be the first to start an argument, and I very rarely find myself involved in them. It would take a lot for me to feel like I needed to step into the arena. I guess you could say I'm more of an observer. It's not that I'm uninterested or not paying attention, I promise. In fact, I really am fascinated with the idea that everyone has their own unique perspective.. that we hear things and say things only after they've made their way through our filter(s). And also that everyone has their own moral compass (or lack thereof).
The next thing I know, I've found myself with a marker in my hand. Anxiety ensues. What possibly am I going to have to do with.. this.. marker?? I sincerely dislike this quality about me and I wish I could explain how it got here and why. I wasn't always like this. I remember going off to Europe for a month with little supervision at age 17 with ease and jumping out of an airplane at 20 after little consideration at all. What has happened between then and now that prevents me from making decisions without having to think and re-think?
Then I started talking to Andrew, about what the hell we were really supposed to be doing in this class. Since neither of us had any idea (I'm getting the idea this is the norm for this class) we just started talking about what we like and how can we get it to lead to a final project? We looked at some photography portfolios online and talked about how cool it would be to be a photographer for National Geographic. Oh, the sites you would see! So I think this is where it all began and you'll understand this when I tell you what happened to me yesterday...
I was driving home from my Thursday class (American Lit Beginning to 1860) and alone in my car I began to think.. about what else I'm going to do today, which led to what else I'm going to do for the rest of my life.. (it seems to always end there..) Well I always tell people that I don't know what I want to do when I graduate (I don't really), but after talking to someone for a while I'll eventually tell them what I wish I could do. I want to travel, and write, and take pictures, and eat, and travel, and experience, and LIVE, and be Anthony Bourdain, really. This is where I heed my boyfriend's advice instead of my father's (and he would kill me if he knew this). Here is the difference:
Dad: "Well, Jen, hm.. how would you do that.. and how much money is it going to cost me?"
Boyfriend:"SO DO IT."
I'm now seriously considering.. drumrolllll... culinary school, concentrating in baking and pastry arts. It's ok, you can call me crazy. But I've been baking since I knew what a cookie was, and if you want to get somewhere, you have to start somewhere, don't you??
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September 14th
Ok, I've been thinking all week about what I should post next. And thinking about it this whole time has inhibited me from actually posting anything. So even though I don't know what I want to talk about, and I don't feel like I've quite narrowed down a project focus for this class, something is better than nothing, right? Well last week when we went over Kelsey's food blog, I was reminded of my latest obsession with Anthony Bourdain and how badly I would love love love to have his job. I'm currently reading Kitchen Confidential. I'm also currently finishing my last semester of college and I am entering what I call "panic mode." No more school after this semester? It's all I've ever done. I don't even know what else there is, really. Well, there's a whole world of things, I know, but I just want somebody to tell me what to do next! Ok, that's the easy way out. I'm not expecting things to be easy, but you can't help but feel a little uneasy when you are about to start a whole new chapter in life.
On the bright side, I booked a cruise (I've never been on one) for next month to Cozumel and Grand Cayman and I was thinking of doing this: documenting my travels, writing, eating, writing, exploring, writing, taking photos, posting.. Anthony Bourdain style. Of course, I want to do it my way, make it my own. But he is inspiring isn't he? Since I won't be going on my trip for another month, I thought I could keep reading his books, and writing about how I want to parallel my future with the kinds of things that he's done.
Next summer, I've planned to spend three months in France, living with a family. Although this is outside the scope of this course, it would be the perfect starting point for this kind of travel writing career, don't you think? Anthony Bourdain grew up spending summers in France. It's where he first started eating, really eating. Maybe I should start a separate blog for this project. Of course I'll still be frequenting the wiki, but I need a clean space. I can link it here, so everybody can read.
Thoughts?
"The future is not real."
converge.
remix.
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I found this in Backslash magazine and I like it:
"To live unrestrained is to live with the realization that your potential is unlimited - that every obstacle, barrier, and problem preventing you from reaching your full potential (every single restraint) can be overcome through creativity. To backslash, creativity is life; we define it as the process through which we realize our potential and help to actualize the potential of others. We believe that creativity is an unlimited abstract substance possessed by everyone, and that by employing creativity without restraint we can all enable our potential to flow freely into reality. But restraints (such as assumptions of impossibilities and presumptions in general) often inhibit us from reaching the point where anything is possible. The key is removing those restraints from our mentalities - so that we may finally think outside of the box. Inside the box the world is flat and machines can't fly. But outside the box, anything is possible. Living Unrestrained does not mean ignoring restraints, but rather, recognizing and conquering them... while maintaining a focus on actualizing limitless potential, creating a pathway for your potential to be realized. Now is the time for us all to focus on our potential, not our limitations. That is what it means to live unrestrained."___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
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Upcoming Shows:
Yeasayer: October 4th at State Theatre
MGMT: October 27th at Ruth Eckerd Hall
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Losing Your Mind Can Be Funny
I was perusing Trina's Unit One Portfolio page in search of which of her pieces I was going to edit/remix and I just had to stop and share one of my own experiences relating to caring for a loved one with Alzheimer's.
A few short years after my mother's mother passed away at age 77 from emphysema , my mother's father's health slowly began to deteriorate as well. He was living alone in a three bedroom home in Kansas. At this point, he was still able to carry on most normal daily activities for a man of 80 (grocery shopping, coffee with the neighbors), and my mother didn't see much reason to be concerned. After all, we did visit often, and they talked on the phone most days. Well, one weekend when my mother, sister, and I were out of town, we asked Grandpa to come stay at our house to babysit our dog, Buster. Buster did need babysitting, and Grandpa needed something to do. The day we were to return my mother got a call from the police department saying that they had found Grandpa driving around Raymore (where I used to live in Missouri) in his maroon Crown Victoria with Buster in the back seat. Grandpa couldn't quite remember the way back to our house. The police escorted him home safely. When we returned, we asked if everything was okay, and it seemed to be, so Grandpa drove home to his side of the state line. A few hours later as my sister and I were rummaging through the fridge for anything to eat after our weekend away, I saw something just a little out of place. Grandpa had put the peanut butter in the freezer. At no point in my 9 year old life had I ever known the peanut butter to go in the freezer. My sister and I laughed, and brought the frozen peanut butter immediately to my mom's attention.
Except one morning, my mom would proceed to ruin all the hard work my sister and I had put into straightening out Grandpa's head about where he was and what he was doing there. One morning my sister and I came downstairs, and my mom was making breakfast for us all. When Grandpa was finished getting dressed and brushing his teeth he began down the stairs to the kitchen. My mom, spatula of scrambled eggs in hand, said this:
"Welcome to the Gravino Hotel! Breakfast is served!"
Immediately my sister and I start whining, "Moooooooom!!"
That is what I remember of those last few months with Grandpa in our house. Of course I do remember getting on the school bus one morning, and passing an ambulance, which was headed in the direction we had just come from, on the day that Grandpa had to be hospitalized when he broke his hip after falling out of bed. But mostly I remember the little things, the silly things. The things a 9 year old thinks are funny, like how big and hairy Grandpa's ears were.
days, until the very end.end.Who are you (Jenna Gravino)
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We're Not Supposed to Live This Long
On Friday, an older woman (I'm guessing late 70's) tripped trying to step up the two brick stairs that lead to the exit of the restaurant where I work. I didn't see her actually fall, but the whole place went silent, even the band stopped playing, when everybody realized what had happened. The woman wasn't getting up, and nobody knew exactly how bad it was. Someone called 911 and the paramedics showed up shortly after that. I was standing to the side watching them put a neck brace on the woman as they kept her ankles from moving by tying them together somehow (I'm assuming they didn't want her to move in case something was broken).
I wondered how the woman felt. There she was, lying on the ground, surrounded by a crowd of people, all because she tripped on a stair. If I had tripped on that stair, I would have been a little embarrassed maybe, but I surely would have been able to get up and go on with my life without too much damage. I guess it's different when you're older. I can't help but wonder if she was really even concerned about her health. I wonder if she felt helpless, frustrated, or angry knowing that her body was beginning to fail her. I wonder if it was the first time something like this had happened.
I don't think we're supposed to live this long...
