thepaigemark

[thepaigemark]

Happy to be Thirty

Are we thriving yet?

I heard that in your twenties, you want everyone to like you, but your thirties are for liking yourself.

I’m not going out as much and do prefer a night in, and the guarantee of a hangover is scarier than waking up with wrinkles. There’s a needle, pill, laser, you name it, for that, so I’m told. For now, it’s easier to say I’d trade a laugh line for a debilitating migraine.

I’m not worried about turning thirty or even dreading it or its expectations and clichés, and I’m even looking forward to the decade upgrade. When I really think about it, I’m indifferent. What does “thirty” matter?

I still own a handful of clothes I’ve hung onto since college, though they feel as if they’ve shrunk a bit, on occasion, I get carded at the store when a bottle or two end up on my grocery list, and everyone on social media who is half my age, instead looks it, thanks to filters, fillers, and Botox.

Sure, I won’t be in my twenties-era anymore, which, honestly, thank God, or have the metabolism that comes with that, dammit, but I do have some wisdom and lessons learned to hold onto, some much harder than others, and years, God-willing, ahead to look forward to.

Would I change anything? Of course.

It seems like now, we’re all telling ourselves we’re “doing the work” and “self-care” to become better, healthier, stronger - thriving. Some of it feels like it’s just a bunch of horoscopes and star signs, manifestations, and self-actualizations, and maybe, some of it isn’t.

Thirty isn’t quite here yet, but it’s close. I’m looking forward to it and whatever that means and wherever that goes, I’ll be pretty damn happy to be thirty.

#turning30 #botox #gettingolder #inmytwenties #horoscope #30thbirthday

[thepaigemark]

As I Sit Here... in the Airport

They can be cold, friendly, or go completely unnoticed.

Whether I’m standing in line or swiftly navigating my terminal, people flash by as if I’m flipping through an old tabloid without bothering to read a single headline. It’s hard to find space of my own not yet overcrowded by traveling families and businessmen or rogue toddlers or bulky duffel bags. 

I watch the people on their phones and computers. I hear their conversations. Their thoughts are public for any and everyone in ears-length, and I continue to listen, wondering how engaged the other end of the line may be, and if they too are traveling, waiting, passing time.

I quickly glance down at my feet when I catch the gaze of another passenger, interrupting my shallow thoughts, somewhat embarrassed, as if they too were out loud. I pretend to be lost in them as if my ideas are deep and profound, maybe even unique, like I am important and only travel in non-matching sweats and an unwashed hoodie to hide that very fact.

Finally, a break in my self-conscious relieves us both when the speakers above us begins the boarding process, and we all shuffle like cattle even closer to the door marked by destination. I stand off to the side avoiding eyes and pushy elbows, and press pause on the e-book in queue though my headphones sit snug over my ears. As the room grows still and empty, I walk up to the podium, smile at the suit behind it, and then to my seat and buckle it. I am quiet. They are loud. The room begins to shake and we are airborne.

#airport #flying #people #terminal #travel #busy

[thepaigemark]

A Pacific Northwest State of Mind

An East Coast Girl Meets a New Kind of West

It was the two-week eve of Christmas when my boyfriend announced he was taking a temporary job in another city. We’d lived together for nearly six years at this point, and this wasn’t exactly the news either of us expected to lead us into the holidays.

I was floored. What did this mean for our future plans? In the last few years, I had established a nice life where we currently lived, including a solid group of girlfriends - that I could trust - and a steady job I loved, and he was quickly moving up the ranks at work. We’d been in our apartment since before the start of the pandemic, and we made it through fairly and suspiciously easy. Dare I say, we actually had fun and grew closer in our barely two-bedroom, second-floor condo-style apartment overlooking a tall range of hills that could be mistaken for mountains, a view only broken by glimmers into neighboring windows and a stretch of highway-17. Many sunset evenings were spent on the just-barely-big-enough-to-not-be-called-juliet balcony, mere steps away from our bedroom.

It wasn’t the first time he’d left for another city to finish a job for his company, but this one felt more definite, even though he reassured me it was temporary.

But, I knew better. I knew this would turn into another move, and it did, only two months later, when we signed the lease on a four-bedroom, new construction home in a quiet family neighborhood 30 minutes from the city. So new, in fact, that google hadn’t yet updated it’s street view with an actual home versus an empty lot.

Enter, the Pacific Northwest. I was immediately out of the loop with my Jeep in place of a Subaru, no dog, cool-toned hair, or refrigerator stocked with craft beers and a bucket of beanies by the door, just in case. It was mid-spring, still cold, but, and quite literally on the bright-side, sunnier than I expected. I was excited for something new, but still daunted by that same thought.

The coast is stunning, the forests are breathtaking, and the mountains are unreal. It’s no east coast by any means, but it’s also so different from the west coast, the San Francisco Bay Area I’d grown to know. In short, I love it, and what’s not to, when you’re surrounded by every type of day-trip destination you could want in one weekend. Sand, snow, or soil, she has it all, except for that sweet heat that can only linger year-round in a place that wraps you in a blanket of humidity, sticking to your hair, clothes, and personality, an unmistakable trait to a place that’s home, a place like Tampa Bay.

#pnw #moving #crosscountry #boyfriend #thepaigemark #florida #tampabay #relationships #quickread #portland #oregon #eastcoast #westcoast #sfbayarea #love #beach #redwoods #newhome #together #christmas

[thepaigemark]

My Joe Rogan Experience

It happens every time like a long awaited sigh of relief. The many times I’ve found myself in a stretch of time still enough to need a distraction, like flying on an airplane or driving for hours at a time, I scroll through my list of podcasts and stumble across The Joe Rogan Experience.

The perfect mix of jokes and debate, I periodically find myself so immersed in the conversation - more than a song or show or movie - I feel a rush of intellect just as it meets a string of uncontrollable laughter.

In one trip, I listened to episodes featuring Bill Burr, Pete Holmes, Whitney Cummings and Theo Von - all comedians, all unique - not expecting to listen to thoughts on evolution, opinions or religion and introspect on self-deprecation and depression. The strangest thing about listening to a podcast is becoming less aware of the people around you and more of the voices that find their way into your head, your car or your home.

Quickly, the podcast thread became more than a way to pass the time. It became an escape from the people sleeping on the floor of the terminal around me. It became my relaxer while driving through the unpredictable ice and snow of the Rocky Mountains. The show provided a sugarless coating on the feelings and attitudes I have everyday - the honesty as appealing as it stung. Listening to people I looked up to as role models for success in an industry so strung out on popularity, I admired the casual and familiar sound of ice clinking in a glass of whiskey or the soft puff heard over a muffled microphone. The voices linked together to create a powerful and yet loosened grip on reality. We could all use a little of that from time to time.

You can find the Joe Rogan Experience here.

GIF courtesy of lingholic.com

[thepaigemark]

I Don’t Hate Mondays (Anymore)

I sat at my desk on a slow Monday afternoon surrounded by the leftover ice and snow from the weekend that had been trampled and matted to the ground by seasoned skis and triumphant weather overnight. Through the window, the sun warmed my back like a towel fresh from the dryer and slowly faded as the clouds rolled overhead in inconsistent patterns.

Original photo

I caught sweet instances of cool air upon my face that rustled the ends of my hair every time the window cracked, and I could feel my body being drawn to the outdoors. To the mountains.

I hadn’t finished any work because there wasn’t any to begin. In fact, I made some up by creating outlines and information flowcharts for co-workers to help increase work productivity.

Luckily, my compulsion to organize and keep busy passed the long hours and relaxed me in the quick minutes - though, Mondays are more the former.

Two books, one half-read, the other not yet creased, stacks of unread newspapers and partially completed crosswords hugged the nook of my desk just in case a moment proved to be too dull.

I watched as unrecognizable people plundered past me in ski boots and coats and helmets. Each one of them so concerned on whether the restroom was on the first or second floor. Were they hungry for soup or a sandwich? Do you have a phone charger?

gifrific.com

In a town so overwhelmingly beautiful - anchored to the mountainside like a lead weight - a quick minute was as common as cold and out of mind as much as I was away from home.

The day dredged on like a slow Florida thunderstorm in the heat of June, but it wasn’t a slump or a waste or a filler for tomorrow. On one of the least productive days of the week, I was satisfied. 

#vail #skivail #vaillive #colorado #monday #mondayblues #snow #work #job #adventure #outdoor

[thepaigemark]

I Drove Cross Country for a Job and Actually Loved It

Road trips never appealed to me. The thought of sitting for hours while trapped inside a metal box on wheels singing ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall triggered my gag reflex.  

The day I bit my tongue was the day I moved to Colorado. The easiest part of leaving home was knowing exactly where I was going. I’d spent most of my life as a local in a vacation-town outside of Clearwater, FL with wispy dreams of an exciting lifestyle. I always knew I’d leave home after college and never intended to do it conventionally. I’m no stranger to traveling. In fact, I make it a point to get on a plane whenever I can. Three day weekend? Bye, Felicia. You heard about a new vegan pizza parlor in Portland that hands out puppies for every fifth pizza you order? Pack your bags!

The truth is, I fly standby. Whilst I’m not actually paying for the miles I travel, the influx of adrenaline I get not knowing whether or not I’ll make a flight is all the payment I can offer.

But driving is a whole other monster. And for four days straight of it breathing down my neck. Now, I know it doesn’t take four days in entirety to get from Tampa to Vail, but shit, it’s still a long drive with or without stops (I did mine with, because sleep. Hello and goodnight.)

It truly wasn’t horrible. It got me here.

I had less than a month to prepare for the move. The morning of the trip, I loaded my belongings into my trunk, shut the door, and essentially never looked back, high-tailing it out of humid mornings and sticky summers and into frosty evenings and fresh powder winters.

(Day One)

Leaving Florida, I took the scenic route through north Florida watching the Gulf of Mexico fade into the rear-view mirror, and as I sped past my Alma Mater through Gator Country, the Florida Georgia border began the real road trip.

The pure white cotton fields stuck out like a sore thumb against the rows of pecan trees and bundles of hay. We arrived in Atlanta under a pink sky and open traffic leaving more time to break the border into Tennessee.  

Six hundred miles in, we arrived in Chattanooga just at the cusp of nightfall. For nearly the first time in my life, autumn had made itself known to me, a miss-match of golden hues and fiery fresh fallen tree trimmings in every direction. Driving through the hills, splashes of leafy greens became increasingly spare.

As the sun went into hiding for the night, we found ourselves in dire need of some R&R and desperate to stretch our legs. We pulled off the highway and settled into our temporary home – sleep at the cusp of our heels.

(Day Two)

Morning promised fresh views and glimpses of hillside ranges. A crisp and dry sunrise parted the lingering clouds and we started on our way.

Frankly, it seemed that most of anything between Chattanooga and Nashville was mute. We easily blew past Manchester, the home of Bonnaroo­, and straight through to more open road and browning treetops. We seemed to glide through to Nashville as fast as we passed it leaving more flatland behind.

Our goal was to make it to Kansas City before calling it a day, but that idea soon fell short after passing through Kentucky made for one long drawn out yawn. The most there was to see on those long stretches of interstate were, unfortunately for them, over confident deer strewn along fence lines and faded whiskey distillery billboards. Making it to St. Louis for the night sounded better and better.

(Day Three)

Almost out of Kansas feels almost like you’re never getting out. Interstate-70 is one big stretch of nothing except windmills and the occasional state trooper that cuts you off for the fun of it. Little did we know that the last sign of civilization would have been left two hundred miles behind us in Kansas City. Feeling desperate for something to eat other than soggy hot dogs or candied pecans from a local gas station, we peeled our eyes back for an alternative. Then, all of a sudden, there it was, smacked between Super Motel 8 and Golden Corral of Hays - one of Kansas’ finest family eateries -  Whiskey Creek Wood Fire Grill.

One steak dinner and another chicken platter later, two satisfied stomachs hit the road once again towards Denver. The last half of Kansas was symmetrical to the other, like driving across an unset table. Just breaking the seal of the Colorado border, we settled for a spot in Limon to call it a night.

(Day Four)

The arrival into Vail was flawless after defying traffic through Denver and up the Mountainside into cooler air. Tradition ensued as we stopped just before our ears began to pop from the incline into the cold, to scarf down a Goodtimes burger and spoon bender like we’d done every winter since 2010.

Two hours and a full stomach later, it hit me that I’d have to retire my sandals and shorts for boots and leggings – for real this time. As I reached for my shoes, I tried to recall the last time I wore socks for the purpose of keeping my feet warm. Needless to say, I was stumped, but stoked watching the frosty mountain peaks appear ahead of us. This was it. That was my new home. 

Original Photos

[thepaigemark]

The Most Interesting Interview I’ve Ever Had

Looking for a job usually causes a lot of anxiety for most of us, but when I walked into my last job interview, I thought I was prepared for anything. Ironically, what it means to prepare to me is mostly mental. I refuse to spend hours prepping stale answers to generic interview questions. I’d rather go in as an open book and let the answers truthfully find their way out.

I was called into an interview for a job I had recently applied for. Upon arriving, nothing was out of the ordinary besides the colorful walls and the barefoot receptionist that greeted me. Huh, a relaxed work environment. I can get with that.

I was directed into a small conference room with three chairs accompanying a circular table. A top it sat one phone. The room was bleak compared to the rainbow of colors popping off of the rest of the walls through the hallway. Moments later, my interviewer arrived. Seconds after, another interviewer walked into the room. We breezed through greeting formalities and jumped right into the interview.

To my left, sat my potential supervisor. A seemingly typical interview ensued and my nerves subsided without me noticing. I was able to talk calmly and comfortably - I had this in the bag, I thought. Throughout the interview, I noticed I was mostly asked questions by only one interviewer though I addressed the both of them as I spoke, meeting occasional grinning glances from both. As I felt the interview beginning to come to a close, one interviewer asked the other, “Do you have anything else for her? Would you like to show her around the office?” In professional speak, this is a good thing. I smiled yes and followed them out of the room.

They took me into a much larger conference room down the hall. On the way, I was able to catch a glimpse of the office space - colorful, open and full of happy faces. As we situated ourselves in the room, the rest of the office followed. Each member greeted me and shook my hand. By the time I sat down, the room was overflowing with employees. I was introduced by one of the interviewers and then one by one, each employee proceeded to interview me.

Surprisingly, I didn’t feel intimidated. Instead, I was excited to make an even greater impression on them. It soon became a large conversation between nearly twenty people ranging from my aspirations and experience to Kristen Wiig and badminton. When they finished, I thanked them, and slowly, each one returned to work. A little startled by the mix of personalities and overwhelmed by the experience, I turned to my two original interviewers for guidance on what happens now. Smiling, I was approached by the CEO whom excused herself and without hesitation leaned into my now supervisor as she shook my hand and said to him, “Make sure you take care of her,” and then turned her attention back to me, “Thank you for coming in today. Congratulations; you’re hired.”

[thepaigemark]

One Year Later

Photo by Alexa Tsongranis

One year and 11 days ago today, I graduated from the University of Florida (above) and it hasn’t been without trials and tribulations, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.

Photo courtesy of the University of Florida

As I watched my fellow classmates walk across the stage in the Florida infamous summer weather at The Swamp, I gleamed and laughed and was proud. More importantly, I remembered what it was like when it was my day. Time hasn’t seemed to move by faster than it has in the last year. A semester abroad in Italy, a graduate, a year’s experience at a first job straight out of college, leaving home, building new relationships  - a whole new beginning, essentially.

Photo by of Alexa Tsongranis

When I graduated, I walked away from the past and into the future - but not without struggle and stress, and striving to adult brought with it challenges and hard decisions - something my latest article on Amy Schumer sums up in eight simple steps. Read it here now. MUAH.

GIF courtesy of Giphy.com

[thepaigemark]

The Cost of Priceless

Over and over, the lyrics to Ambition play in my head. Usually, it happens more often in the afternoon, when that mid-day lag hits me like Holly Holm to the face.

On the regular, by the time I start day-dreaming of happy hour and abandon all email communication in order to browse through photos of my next haircut or shoes I’ll never buy, I stop to think. 

I think about where I’ve been and where I want to go from here. What’s the cost of that? What am I willing to give up? Sometimes, I can’t answer - not even by lying to myself. I’m at a loss. 

GIF by pinterest.com

Then, other times, I know exactly what I want and how to get it - just like Shia. 

GIF by tumblr.com

More often than not, I find adulting to feel more like I got away with sneaking out of the house and less like I own it. Alas, there is a reward to growing up and showcasing your worth - especially when you have no idea which way is up and drowning in a bowl of Cap’n Crunch sounds more favorable than peeling yourself from your bed and putting on pants - and that’s just Monday.

Growing up isn’t about age; it’s not even about growing up - it’s about ambition and the paths we chose. I’ve watched my classmates land their “dream job” or internship and have succeeded in my own endeavors, but the more experiences I give myself, the more I find my thoughts lingering in the past.

I remember a younger-self that thought taking on the world was as easy as writing in my day book - like I would get to it, pencil it in. Though that hasn’t happened yet, and is completely circumstantial and subjective to whomever is doing the conquering, the ladder I’m climbing seem smaller and the gratification feels greater.

Yes, sacrifice is a part of life - happiness does come at a cost, intangibly.

We do are best to be happy, and often that’s not enough. But the real satisfaction comes from the true grit and down n’ dirty of hard work. I can’t say that I don’t struggle with that, but I can say that ragrets are a thing in the past; someday, I’ll be able to say I have non, not even a letter. For now, I look forward to that.

GIF by media.giphy.com

[thepaigemark]

Books You Need To Read ASAP

Good books are Aziz Ansari.

Sometimes it feels like I am in a relationship with Amazon. Truly, I check it constantly, knowing that I have no real intention of purchasing all 10 items in my cart, but I am addicted to the money-saving allure it promises and the thrill of almost submitting my order. You could say that my relationship status is Prime.

I feel this way because Amazon always knows what I want. It can recommend a book better than I can decide what to put in my burrito at Chipotle. Now, this may seem absurd, but think about it. What knows you better than an algorithm designed to pick and choose the very items you didn’t know you were thinking about buying yet? Genius.

With the holidays coming up, a good book might just be what you need to distract yourself from the arriving of in-laws and that weird half-sister you never knew existed until that awkward conversation with dad.

Anyway, here are my top picks for a funny read when your sugar cookie high dips drastically low and could use a book, er boost.

Aziz Ansari Bad Romance

Mindy Kaling Why Not Me?

Anything by Chelsea Handler (again and again forever and always)

Lena Dunham Not That Kind Of Girl

Tina Fey Bossypants

GIF by popsugar.com

#aziz ansari #mindy kaling #chelsea handler #lena dunham #bossypants #tina fey #good books #bad romance

[thepaigemark]

College As Tina Fey Knows It

College was and still is a ridiculous time for myself. I have experienced my fair share of the crazy and true, unbelievable and surreal, and the best of the best. Most of us go through it, but many of us make life-long memories when we make it out alive.

After binge-watching episodes of Parks and Recreation immediately following too much classwork in one day, I experienced a Tina Fey and Amy Poehler withdrawal. But before I committed to the entire movie Baby Mama, I had a thought. What would Tina Fey do?

She said, not to me, though I wish desperately and almost on an unhealthy level of adoration, to “do your thing and don't care if they like it,” so I did. Thanks girl.

Here's my take on college as Tina Fey knows it...

http://www.buzzfeed.com/thepaigemark/college-as-tina-fey-knows-it-nnwl

P.S. Thank you for reading and for the incredible response to my previous article on Tina Belcher of Bob's Burgers. What can I say, I've got a thing for Tinas.

Photos by New York Times Best Seller and Mindzette

[thepaigemark]

What Tina Belcher Taught Me

Uhhhhhh, first off, Tina's character on Bob's Burgers is magical. The comedic genius behind her humor makes me wish I had her writers on hand to direct my conversations daily. My sudden and deep attraction to Bob's Burgers started with a trip to New York City, when I stumbled upon a few episodes during a late night Netflix browse.

A few clicks away, there it was in all it's glory: Bob's Burgers.

I can't say that I have a favorite character, but Tina's monotone straw-dry humor caught me like a fish. I watched episode after episode into the wee hours of the morning and embarrassingly, but proud enough, I polished off all three seasons available to me, and quickly became a self proclaimed expert.

The jaunty jingle starts every episode off just right and each character is as much a laughing fit as the next after that.

H. Jon Benjamin

Dan Mintz

Eugene Mirman

John Roberts

Kristen Schaal

are the reasons laughing may become my daily workout.

Take a look at this to read my take on Tina if she ever tried to encourage self help in others. Enjoy.

Photos by burgertv.tumblr.com and tressugar.com

[thepaigemark]

Nitty Gritty of Flicks

Movies. They're the sort of thing you either love or hate, or love to hate, but secretly love when no one else is watching, besides you of course.

I myself, love movies, in a Tom Cruise-y no shame kind of way.

Recently, I have noticed that my frame of preference has breached an all tolerance. I have become drone-like in the presence of film, and I blame Netflix. It's difficult enough to find a movie worth watching, but mostly when I do, it becomes background noise to what I am really focusing on. Movies, television shows and anything else web-friendly is the comfort food to my silent habits.

In the last two months, between traveling, sleeping and down right summer-ing, I have noticed a recent development in the part of the brain that controls and receives inspiration.

The last five movies that I have seen are:

1. The Graduate

2. The Big Wedding

3. Girl Most Likely

4. The Fault In Our Stars

5. The Switch

Every time I watch a movie, I learn something. It doesn't have to be about the storyline, and most likely it's something I take away from the mood of the soundtrack. Take the music out, and I got nothing. Music is key, right?

I look forward to it in every movie and pay more attention to the sounds than the voices. But in the end, it makes it all worth it. When the two come together, it makes for a great motion picture.

Each one of the films listed above made me refresh how I look at myself. It also made me want to be a great writer, whether it be by comedic narrative, musical soul searching or online blogging. Either way, film and music go together like buffalo and chicken.

So, I thank music, and I thank the writers, actors and editors who put it all together so that I may one day follow in their footsteps or at the very least, dream to do as they do.

Photo by Martha's Vineyard Film Center

[thepaigemark]

Under the Influence

I always seem to work best with a little extra company. When it comes to making decisions and crunching down before deadlines, that extra kick can really help to keep me on track. As the lady half of a nearly four year relationship, I have come to find that I play well with other... my other half.

Nowadays, especially with the hooplah of rom-coms grabbing young hearts by the dozens, I turn to testosterone to keep my wheels turning. But, it's not about men, in fact, it's about one man, my man.

Ellen Page said it best. And after all, what is macaroni without cheese? Lonely and dissatisfying. 

When opposites attract? Magnets. Deny science, and two can agree to love thy hobby of thy neighbor equally. This is what relationships are made of.

It's rare to find someone else who is as in love with you, as you both are with your line of work. It's reassuring and comforting, but above all, inspiring. It means having your very own horcrux. The good kind, if there is any of the sort.

In all seriousness, it's a smart balance of the trade. Dicing into the music industry is no easy task, but splitting it with someone else makes it that much sweeter. I am thankful for the encouragement that I receive on the daily from my tall glass of water knowing it's the real deal.

One love and two people is already more than enough to make it in the world, but what is so much more satisfying is knowing your influence got them there.

Put that to use in your music, encourage it in others and listen to it in a whole new way by appreciating how it got there in the first place: under the influence.

Original photos by Paige Rasmussen

Inspired by the small things in life.

[thepaigemark]

Winehouse, Morgan and Peanuts

On a recent travel spree to the big apple, I became obsessed with the hustle and bustle of city-goers, convinced that I was home away from home.

New York City hooked me like a fish. I had a bottle of rum and good vibes to keep me company. It was my third visit and in the few hours that I spent alone each day, the thrill of sirens and the hum of passersby filled the room to the crown molding. It was my own oasis within an oasis.

New York City is a vision. It creeps up on you like a deadline, but the impact lasts much longer. In the time that I spent there, every corner offered something new, but the best ones became familiar holes in the wall to a strung-out suburban girl that could still shuck an ear of corn faster than your average farmer. That said, I was much more interested in the dashes of tulips spread through the streets adding drunken color to the grayest building or cloud in the sky.

Where there is music, there is New York City, and occasionally an elephant in the room. It was Cage The Elephant that took Terminal 5 on a May Thursday night for a show that could have broken in any new pair of shoes. There was not a melophobic fan in the house. I danced, I laughed and nearly cried when the show was over, but it all ended with a crowd surf when lead singer Matt Shultz fell into the hands of hundreds of fans. It was one for the record player and one halo a show.

Original photos by Paige Rasmussen

[thepaigemark]

Sea of Air, I'll Be Brave

On the most relaxing of days, I found this couple enjoying a simple Sunday afternoon together. How sweet, I thought, as I walked on by, only that I couldn't. I was so inclined to photograph the double cat nap appearing in front of me. And I thought...

What if in that moment, beauty was less aesthetic and more spiritual. Much more. And I began to understand, believe, and even crave it. I understood the importance of moments like these. I believed the honesty behind what this silent picture told me. I even began to crave this quiet kind of happiness.

Like a good song, this scene captured me. I was surrounded by tunnel vision, but this kind was colorful and filled with music.

Songs are often more vulnerable than people and easier to love, but this photo captivates what it means to be brave with and for someone else in their own "little sea of air," even if it is just for a Sunday noon nap. 

This post was inspired by Portugal. The Man Sea of Air.

Original photo by Paige Rasmussen

Lyrical quote credited to Portugal. The Man

[thepaigemark]

Halloween Themed FEST 12 Plays In Gainesville

In-House No Idea Records, located at 1005 SW 2nd Ave., is seemingly still on Halloween day while the employees inside gather band merchandise and festival memorabilia for the night’s event. On Oct. 31, No Idea Records hosted the first night of the annual downtown event, Fest 12, gathering local and popular bands that work through No Idea Records and other labels to perform during set times throughout the night. The music festival started as early as 1 p.m. and lasted until 1:30 a.m. at 11 downtown Gainesville venues throughout the day and night. Fest 12 continued through Nov. 1, 2 and 3 and included a Pre-Fest in Ybor on Oct. 29 and 30. 

Table Top The Official Guide Book of Fest 12 decorates the distribution table in the assembly room at No Idea Records on Halloween, the first day of the festival. The book offered insight to festival attendants about the Gainesville hosted music festival that took place Oct. 31 through Nov. 3 in downtown venues. A Pre-Fest took place in Ybor on Oct. 29 and 30. More information about the festival was available online at http://www.thefestfl.com/fest12/ and through a free downloadable application for smart phones titled “Fest 12 Guide.” The application provided weather updates, schedules and lists of bands performing, a what’s happening now section, social media activity and a map for both the Gainesville and Ybor areas.

Welcome “Fest-ers” To invite business, a downtown Gainesville thrift store, Thrift 5, located at 1227 West University Ave., offers an exclusive discount to Fest 12 attendants with a valid wristband. Customers were given 50 percent off their purchase by presenting their wristband when paying for items. Attendants of the festival were encouraged to dress up for the Halloween event downtown. Throughout the day, customers were invited to shop for costumes while band members and other attendees of the festival checked-in across the street at the Holiday Inn hotel where they stayed for the weekend-long festival.

Going the Distance The parking lot of the University Avenue Holiday Inn hotel was full of cars on Oct. 31, and most of them had accumulated some extra miles this Halloween weekend, such as travelers from Virginia. The hotel hosted guests in town for Fest 12, organized by the local No Idea Records. Attendants for the event checked-in to the hotel that morning and were invited to participate in the pool party on the third floor. In order to attend the events during the festival, fans were required to purchase tickets online through the event website that included wristbands to be worn throughout the weekend. Ticket prices ranged from $60 to $150 depending on how early tickets were purchased and for how many days they granted access to the festival.

Handy Three “fest-ers” walk along University Avenue towards Firehouse Subs with an Official Guide Book in-hand before staking out which bands they want to see that Halloween night during the annual Fest 12. No Idea Records, responsible for the event, put together an official handbook that explained the ins-and-outs of the Gainesville festival. The Official Guide Book of Fest 12 included lineup times for bands, tips for new and old “fest-ers” from No Idea Records employees and band members about favorite shows, food vendor top-picks, tips for navigating Gainesville and interviews with popular bands from previous festivals.

Original photos by Paige Rasmussen