last week's adventures, part five

I’ve gotta learn to prioritize self-reflection and documentation.

Monday, 10.5 - Praised the return of the sunshine, went to work at 1 p.m. and ventured to UMD to film for an FRN video. that was a fun adventure.

Tuesday, 10.6 - felt like a 90s child all day with the sock/shoe combo I rocked, sat on the floor of the kitchen, watching four of my five housemates cook at the same time.

Wednesday, 10.7 - said hello to some deer on my daily commute, made delicious indian food for dinner and pretended to be a thesaurus with perry.

Thursday, 10.8 - made the best cheesy chicken and rice dish with cauliflower and sage (which mr. b, man of no vegetables, loved), kind of saw Kurt Vile (tall men killin’ my vibes), walked through the city and had that “oh! these things connect? cool” feeling a lot.

Friday, 10.9 - packed my bags, headed to work, counted down the minutes until 4.30 when I headed towards the airport, lost some optimism when I got to the counter (15 minutes before the doors closed) and saw 11 people on the stand-by list.

I sat and said “hmph, guess I’m not going.” by some miracle, my name was called and the agent handed me a boarding pass. Halfway down the ramp, another agent stopped me and said “no, sorry, no more seats” but also told me to wait in that spot. So, I did. Then another agent summoned me back to the desk, where the boarding-pass-giver agent said “no, guys, there is a seat she will fit.” so the four of us walked back down the ramp, two of the agents boarded the plane but didn’t signal me to follow them so I awkwardly look at the flight attendant and then shrug. Finally, no-you-won’t-fit agent gets me and walks me to my seat. I sit down, thrilled to be on my way to the windy city and baffled by the chaos.

headed straight for revolution brewing where I chowed down on a hamburger and drank a beer that tasted perfectly of a bon fire. jonathan met me on the train platform and pulled me into an adventure. we headed to berlin for a halloween themed burlesque show and later to maria’s for “two shitty random shots and two shitty beers.”

Saturday, 10.10 - walked through bridgeport, looking for breakfast. snagged some pumpkin pastries from jackalope coffee, decided we were still hungry, walked to pleasant house bakery for a scotch egg and mash (jonathan ate a kale/mushroom pie). we headed downtown for a pop-up museum exhibit about the history of hot dogs (we’re both into food history, so we totally loved it.) then we drank beers on a roof before parting ways. I ventured to a tavern to eat dinner and watch the vols beat georgia! after a shot of jameson, my little belly start to ache so i ventured home and napped. we drank wine on the fire’scape and chilled our bones.

Sunday, 10.11 - hugged jonathan g’bye (for hopefully not forever), ate delicious pancakes before heading to the airport where I spent five hours waiting to fly home. I ate half a bag of garrett mix, letting the cheddar flavoring stain my fingers yellow, before finally deciding to fly to LGA then to DC (I got first class on the flight home, which means wine, which means everything was better.) I fell asleep as soon as I got home.

last weeks' adventures, three

My goodness, I blinked and two weeks vanished. Which actually isn't true because they were two long, eventful weeks and my eyes were wide open. Despite the self-reflection I've been doing, I'm not quite ready to share my thoughts. So, here's what my calendar looked like as September ended and October began.

Monday, 9.21 - waited to learn the details of grandaddy's funeral, volunteered with pastor ben/snagged a giant bag of produce, sat in a hookah bar and watched monday night football

Tuesday, 9.22 - did a lot of brainstorming at work, made a delicious dinner and apple crisp, discussed how early to leave the house the next day for the airport because of the Pope

Wednesday, 9.23 - rendered my iphone useless, flew to Nashville, hugged papa bear as tight as I could, spent the afternoon surrounded by family/meeting strangers, ate dinner at Ryan's and reminisced on all the times our grandparents took us there, drank six free beers with hannah, laid on my bed laughing at ridiculous jokes

Thursday, 9.24 - celebrated Doug Cather's life all day, tears in my eyes and love on my mind

Friday, 9.25 - flew back to dc at 6 am, went straight to work, came home to olivia and gabi in my home (!!!), ate a delicious mexican dinner, followed g to u street for a rambunctious adventure, left my credit card in a bar

Saturday, 9.26 - realized my credit card was missing, was reminded of the beauty of friendship by our Uber driver on the way to the Landmark Festival, listened to a lot of great music (u.s. royalty, the mowglis, daughter, band of horses, wale, miguel, drake), ventured back to u street for my credit card and pizza

Sunday, 9.27 - headed back to West Potomac for day two of Landmark (lord huron, the suffers, tv on the radio, chromeo, the eagle rock gospel singers, alt+j, chvrches, the strokes), walked to the white house, ventured to the diner

Monday, 9.28 - had four creative meetings, didn't read my personal email/did two loads of laundry/miraculously didn't flood the house because apparently we had a leak and laundry was off-limits, laughed with all my roommates in the kitchen

Tuesday, 9.29 - more creative meetings, started compiling my october playlist, went to dinner with mr. b, cursed the rain, watched the first episode of narcos

Wednesday, 9.30 - went to my first official house show, meet some new friends, listened to some great tunes/loved the song about the mann gulch fire

Thursday, 10.1 - woke happy and greeted the first october morning (this is my favorite month), more meetings and a migraine, napped for ten minutes/drank coffee when i got home and it vanished, spent time asking important questions with my roommates ("are you following your bliss?" "do you know what your bliss is?")

Friday, 10.2 - didn't go to work, replaced my iphone and black jeans, had the most perfect family dinner (+neill) of salad, gnocchi/roasted vegetables, couscous and chocolate cake (and too much booze)

Saturday, 10.3 - lounged. a lot, left the house to grocery shop but otherwise remained pantsless all day, was disappointed by UT's third loss, laughed at the russian man's jokes

Sunday, 10.4 - still pantsless, still happy.

last week's adventures, two

Life is a whirlwind. In hopes of preserving my memories (and avoiding the tendonitis in my wrists), I’m sharing a list on the internet, a second week in a row. frenchboy would surely be proud.

Monday, 9.14 - went on a paddle boat adventure at the Tidal Basin with my coworkers, biked 4.5 miles to Above the Bayou for a show in the coolest space, met ben/became friends over 40s and silly jokes, watched in awe as Jules Hale sang her heart out

Tuesday, 9.15 - met mr. b at Wonderland Ballroom, ate the most delicious eggplant fries, played with an adorable puppy named Hudson (a two month old beagle !!)

Wednesday, 9.16 - stuffed some farmers market kale into my backpack, celebrated Ilia’s very last night in DC by wearing a bow tie and drinking $3 PBRs at Lyman’s, biked to Wonderland Ballroom and listened to jazz music

Thursday, 9.17 - checked out my first art walk, watched OTNB and stayed up late because I didn’t have to work the next day

Friday, 9.18 - cooked squash/kale/bean soup AND twice baked kale/cheese potatoes, volunteered at the USDA Night Market, went to an awesome  gallery opening (which featured art exploring race issues), got drinks with eric at The Brixton

Saturday, 9.19 - met morgan at Le Grenier for a perfect French brunch, walked along the H Street Festival, napped, ventured to Blackfinn to watch the Vols dominate West Carolina/drink Octoberfest/laugh about tinder dates with Jess, went to my very first party/met one of the Lost Boys/laughed with my housemates

Sunday, 9.20 - woke to crisp weather and a kind note, made pancakes, checked out Community Forklift, bought delicious peaches/tomatoes/muffin, napped, went to Smoke & Barrel for some bomb bbq, sang along to the entire Of Monsters and Men concert

last week's adventures

frenchboy told me he was underwhelmed by my post yesterday, so I'm here to appease him and anyone else who actively cares about what happens in my life. I let you all down last week with no selfie-sunday post, I know, please forgive me.

Here's an easily digestible list:

Monday, 9.7 - talked about weird stuff with Hannah, enjoyed Labor Day festivities at Liv's house, said goodbye to my family, got on a plane in Nashville, got stuck in Charlotte, slept on the floor

Tuesday, 9.8 - got back to DC, napped, worked a bit, made a delicious collard greens/sweet potato/coconut milk soup that was a lovely chartreuse color, finished reading Gone Girl (have any of you read that book!? so intense. I need to watch the movie now.)

Wednesday, 9.9 - finally went back to the office after being out for five days (whoops), listened to Oh Wonder all day (couldn't stop dancing), went to DC Bike Party, drank PBRs

Thursday, 9.10 - curated my first internet email to my best friend (maybe one day I'll share the things she and I send to one another), continued dancing at my desk, drank wine with roommates while making dinner

Friday, 9.11 - sent positive thoughts to those affected 14 years ago, did a lot of brainstorming in the office about very exciting things (stay tuned), wil'ed out on the way home in the car with Leyla, drank too many margaritas with my housemates, went to an awkward party (tried to make it not awkward, didn't work)

Saturday, 9.12 - put on a rain coat and went to the farmers market, started preparing for the pot luck, volunteered at the DC State Fair (I worked with the honey judging), ate leftover pie from the competition, listened to the Best Buds judging, helped finish preparing food for pot luck, ate too much, drank too much wine, had a great time celebrating Ilia

Sunday, 9.13 - woke up and cursed the wine consumption, went to Great Falls Park with Alison and Sam for an adventure walk, bought bread and goodies from another farmers market, napped, went to Adams Morgan Day with Leyla, ate delicious Indian food, listened to a trombone/drum ensemble, sprawled in bed and watched some Orange is the New Black

xo, hc

selfie sunday no. thirteen

Oh heavens, this week was a doozy.
I think I always say that, but life is just so full.
My home feels comfortable, my relationships are growing.
I'm happy as can be with what the universe is giving me.

tuesday morning in an airport

I woke to the sound of the world ending.

The cold, thinly carpeted ground shook as a loud, mechanic rumble overpowered “For Emma, Forever Ago.” Bon Iver’s album is my go-to for a sleep soundtrack; it whispers me to sleep in new, scary environments like it did when I was a teenager enjoying the cozy comforts of my bed(room). It coddled me on the ferry ride from Helsinki to Stockholm; it cut out the drunks on the overnight bus ride from Krakow to Budapest; it lulled me to sleep each time I slept in a new bed.

It was playing when I pulled a dress over my body as a blanket and a t-shirt over my head as an eye mask. My leather duffel serving as a semi-squishy, somewhat comfortable pillow. The Charlotte Douglas International Airport runs air conditioning through the night. They don’t turn the lights off after the last flight lands. Of course not. That’s when the cleaning crew comes through.

Which is why I woke up at 1:34 a.m. to the obnoxious sound of the world’s demise. Rumble-tumble. Boom boom boom. Unusual loud squeaky sounds.

*ground shakes*

*snoring man groans*

*snoring continues*

I groan and lift the t-shirt, revealing my right eye, then my left. I needed both eyes, groggy from ground-sleep, to realize that a cherry picker was rolling through the check-in atrium. A man. In a basket crane. Inside.

And you know what he was doing? I’ll give you two guesses. He wasn’t cherry picking.

He was dusting the ceiling. That’s what was happening at 1:34 on a Tuesday morning. Of course it was. When else were the ceiling and giant letter C hanging on the wall going to be dusted?

I can’t be mad at Mr. Ceiling Duster. He was merely doing his job; a loud, 30-minute dusting job, but still his job. I was mad about sleeping on the floor. And before you say “but why didn’t you sleep on a bench/in a chair” let me tell you that 1) I can rarely sleep sitting up and 2) all of the bench-like furniture in the atrium had arm rests between each seat. I am not skinny enough to snuggle under them.

Oh, and now you’re asking about why I was on the floor in the first place? Right. Context. Sorry.

I flew to Nashville to spend time with my best friends and family. Hannah showed me Germantown, where we peaked in the windows of an abandoned home, scoffed at over-priced boutiques and ate a Nash-Ago deep dish from 312 Pizza (and flirted with the waiter). We splashed in the Tennessee Rivers fountains and rode home in a car that smelled oddly like a motel room.  

Eric cashed in on his Christmas present. Yes, I know, I’m an awful older sister. Nine months later, three weeks before his birthday, I finally delivered on my promise to take him to Grimey’s and buy him a record. At least I helped him find what he wanted (Brand New’s Deja Entendu.) We didn’t stop there, though. Eric is the coolest one in the family, so I tried to show him cool Nashville things. We stopped by Retro Snow, where he got a Citrus Sunrise “so you can’t have any, ‘cuz you’re allergic to oranges.” Thank you, Eric. We poked around in some thrift stores and Hillsboro Village, and then stopped by Local Honey before heading home.

I spent Labor Day with great company. Liv served spicy Bloody Mary’s, and we played beer pong in the pool. It was, what I assumed, the ending to a perfect trip to Nashville. The Nashville bit was perfect, but then I landed in the Charlotte airport and had to say “excuse me” 5,000 times before getting to my next gate.

All the flights were oversold, and since it was a holiday weekend, everyone was there to claim their seats. It was mayhem. And as a non revenue guest (I fly standby, when there’s an opening), I was on the bottom of the priority list. I had hoped to catch the last flight to DC, but when that didn’t happen, I curled up on the ground and waited for the 6 a.m. flight. Then the 7:30, the 8:30, the 9:45.

I texted my boss. I wasn’t going to make it to work.

I was laying on the floor, outside gate C17, under an out-of-order charging station. To my left was a 2-year-old Hispanic toddler, straining to touch my head with her right hand but her father tightly held the left hand  as her mother velcroed the stray shoe back on to her foot. To my right  was a group of tattooed and gold chain wearing men. They looked as tired as I felt. The one who wasn’t asleep started taking photos of his friends, chuckling to himself about the obvious hilarity.

My fingers crossed, my spirits low, I drifted in and out of sleep.

“Cather, please come to the desk for your seat assignment.”

I lept to my feet. Stars flashed before my eyes, that’s how fast I got up. Finally, I was going home. PRAISE THE UNIVERSE. Finally.

And that’s the story of me sleeping on the ground.

Not the first time, probably not the last.

Stay tuned.

xo, hc

selfie sunday no. twelve

*southern belle accent*
I tell you what, this week wore me out.
*end irresistibly charming accent*

It was a doozy. One for the books.

I went on a couple of dates with pleasant company. I attended my first happy hour gathering where there were three Hannahs, two of whom were celebrating their birthday that day. It was my second week of work, and it actually felt like work. I bonded with roommates over garlic and kale. My best friend made a very, very important decision, and though overwhelmed, I couldn't be more proud of her. I shared a pitcher of sangria with a new friend, who I met at Bonnaroo and now call a neighbor. I made photographs I was proud of.  I flew to Knoxville for my dear friend's birthday (and the outlandish party he threw), and enjoyed being around my people.

and now I am home.

Ready for another week of who knows what.

Songs you should play: 4th and Roebling, Young Blood and Funeral Beds by The Districts, Prisoner and Losers by The Weeknd, and We Were Here by BOY

selfie sunday no. eleven

They warned me that I would get asked about my job by everyone I met.

"What do you do?"

"Where do you work?"
"Did you move for a job?"

I sigh a little bit every time, at the predictable inevitabilities. Then realize I'm just as curious about them, so I stifle the sigh. *breathe in*

"I work with a nonprofit called Food Recovery Network," I tell them (whoever they are.) And depending on how engaged they seem, I'll either stop there and smile or continue my explanation. Since you're here, I'm assuming you're curious, so I'll just keep going? You can always stop right now, in case you actually aren't interested. But boo on you. Why are you even here? Just kidding, thank you for being here at all. We all appreciate your existence. 

FRN is a national organization composed of 150 chapters, each of which is located on a college/university campus. Those students are fighting food waste and hunger in their communities. They work out a plan with their campus dining providers to take leftover foods to local soup kitchens/churches (or things of that sort; there's quite a variety.)  

As a member support fellow, it's my responsibility to check in monthly with 31 different chapter leaders to make sure everything is going according to plan. I exist to encourage their efforts, push them to reach new goals and act as a liaison between them and the national office. 

My desk, in the national office, is situated between two other ladies named Hannah. In fact, it's not an individual desk but half of a two-person desk that is a section of a square where eight of us have computers. There's another grouping of four computers and two independent computers. So right now there are 14 of us in the office. A 15th person might be on the way. I'm not sure. 

We work 40 hours a week. Isn't that crazy? I have an actual adult Monday through Friday 9-5 job. Except, only kind of. My supervisors decided, once upon a time, to instill a "Flex Friday" schedule. That means that I get to take every other Friday off, assuming I make up the four hours some other time in the two-week period. (I think that math is correct. I'm still not convinced I understand the system.) We have meetings and send emails and color coordinate our calendars and eat lunch together and groan simultaneously when the Internet stops working. 

I'm thrilled to be at FRN. Really, truly thrilled. It seems like the most wonderful stepping stone between graduation and whatever the future holds. I suspect in nine months — when the fellowship ends — I'll be more equipped to make career decisions. Because I'm still not sure why I didn't pursue journalism.

I thought I wanted to be an editorial magazine photographer (or editorial assistant or anything in magazines.) I spent my last year of school assuming my future was headed in that direction. Pete Finch and Hannah Margaret Allen were my role models. Then, on somewhat of a whim, I attended the Food Waste and Hunger Summit in Athens, Georgia, and everything changed. 



For years, my life goal has been to always be able to feed the people I care about. Note the symbolic photograph of a pot of soup as my "selfie" this week. When I learned of all the initiatives doing just that, my focus shifted from magazines to feeding strangers. And as much as I miss working at a daily newspaper and being the editor-in-chief of a magazine class, I'm 100% satisfied knowing that tomorrow I'll sit in an office as part of an organization that embodies my life goal. 

xo, hc

ps: if you have any questions, shoot me an email: hannahcatherr@gmail.com
pps: if you want to listen to my favorite song of the week: Lady of the Desert by Rayland Baxter

selfie sunday no. ten

I have a pet mosquito.

Our relationship is not healthy. As I scratch at one of the ten bites on my body, I plot her death. Sure, she may not be the source for all of the itchy discomfort, but she needs to be squished. Why did she have to leave her extended family on the porch and move into my space? The chances of a tasty treat are slim, considering there's only one person occupying the bedroom versus all the people walking through the front door. "GO EAT SOMEONE ELSE" I mumble, aggressively, as she somehow manages to miss my swat. Where did she even go!? Sneaky mosquito.

You're not here to read about my mosquito mistress? You want to know what's happening in my life? Huh, that's weird. But, I mean, alright. Like, uh, I guess I can clue you in.

It's been a week since I packed up the car and drove 10 hours to DC. I pulled up in front of the row house on Kansas Avenue, where three of my six roommates greeted me with smiles and helped unload my stuff. (I dunno where the other three were, they aren't assholes, just busy bees.) My bedroom, aka Miss Mosquito's haven, is the first one on the second floor. You take 12 squeaky steps, then three less squeaky steps and my room is on the left. The windows face south, and there's plenty of room for activities. I couldn't ask for a better place to rest my head each night for the next 12 months. (Except something tells me I'll be doing a lot of traveling this year, so maybe not eeeeeevery night.)

Y'know when you move and you get that "in a new bed" feeling? You fall asleep imagining the potential of your new life, and you wake up surprised by your surroundings. That's probably one of my favorite feelings. It's why I like to travel so much. Each morning this week, I woke reveling in that newness, overjoyed by the possibilities. I did my best to get out, to explore my surroundings, so here's a bulleted list of my adventures (cuz dat grammar wuz 'bout to get ruh-dic-uh-lus):
- joined DC Bike Party and traveling through the city with 1,000 people
- played in a ball pit with a giant, surrounded by chaotic children
- walked through the zoo and indulged in confectionaries
- cut about three inches of hair off
- ate chicken feet (woa) and pork belly at Eat's Place, a "food incubator and restaurant accelerator"
- sat on a porch, listening to songs about Bernie and Jesus
- rode my bike to the grocery store

It was my last week of summer. It felt like an entire summer in seven days. It was the best way to transition to this new life, which is something I've done three times: starting college, studying abroad for six months and now this. Knoxville was easy; I had a crew of friends and classes to take. The move to Utrecht needed some bravery. I carried a suitcase and my curiosity across the Atlantic Ocean to a culture that marginally resembled my own. It only took a week to learn to not walk in the bike lanes and to say "dankjewel" after buying groceries at Albert Heijn, but it never truly felt like home. Maybe that's because it never was going to be home. I didn't mind.

With those two transitions behind me, I knew I could take on DC. The conversations I overhear are predominately in English (but also in Spanish and French and Chinese and a slew of others because this city is international.) There's cell service everywhere (except for in the metro tunnels.) The social opportunities are limitless (but I don't feel guilty for watching all of True Detective.) Basically, there are a lot of ways that I feel in my element, even if I'm not 100% sure what this element is.

This is a photo of my latest tattoo. (It's still healing, so it looks a bit wonky.) I don't normally share my new ink with the internet, but I'm making an exception for this one because it's very, very dear to my heart. There's this wonderful woman named Olivia who is full of life and kindness and laughs and overall greatness. Liv brightens any room she enters, and she protects her friends with a fierce loyalty. I have no memories of life before her — she's been my neighbor and one of my best friends for 20 years. That's a really long time, so we decided to commemorate our friendship with "biff tatts." She has a matching one that's just a bit smaller on her back. My house is on the right, hers is the left.

These two houses mean a lot to me. They connect me to someone I would die for, someone I care about with my whole heart aaaand to all the other people who matter to me. I love people in Nashville, Knoxville, Chattanooga, Georgia, Pennsylvania, Washington, Oregon, Montana, California, Australia, France, Germany. I love people all over the world, but not one of them is in DC with me. Surely one day I'll say "I love you" to someone in this city, but until then, I'll keep looking at these houses and sending love all over the globe.

xoxo, hc

nashville farmers market, 2014