And not even normal writer’s block. Like I-can’t-even-write-anything-in-my-journal writer’s block. I. Am. So. Uninteresting. And my journal doesn’t even need to be interesting. It’s a journal. Like, sometimes, it’s just a drunken list of “Things I did/thought/ate today.” I can’t even muster that.

So I will try to be more interesting, to tear myself away from the LoL vortex of (occasional) boringness that is AB’s apartment and try and go explore more. Maybe take a road trip, maybe just plan my birthday, maybe do… other things. I’ll make a list? Summer 2013 supplemental bucket list?

On a bright note, I’m in the process of refinishing my dresser that I bought in 2011 and have yet to revamp. Go me. Also, I read a book about zombies. So there’s that…

For the past week, the bombings are all anyone’s been able to talk about. It’s a “where were you when…” situation that’s sickeningly similar to 9/11 recollections. I’ve waited several days to try and grapple with, to evaluate how I feel about everything. I know it’s something I want to write about, something I want to encapsulate in the foreverness of the Internet, but something deeply personal, too.

The United States of America was assaulted on Monday. Boston was assaulted on Monday. The 190 people that were killed or maimed in the past week were assaulted. And so was I.

AB kept asking me if I was okay because I wasn’t talking a whole lot (To be fair, I’ve been really sick and couldn’t talk if I wanted to). Mostly, I’ve just kept quiet because I don’t really know how to process very well. When 9/11 happened, I was 9 years old and 3,000 miles away, so everything seemed eerily distant. Most of my classmates had never seen New York, and most didn’t have family working to rescue victims and clean up the aftermath—For the most part, I felt very alone in my naive perspective of terrorism.

Though the scope of this attack is only a fraction of the World Trade Center, it’s admittedly more impactful for me. I’m older, for starters; and I’m a witness to the horror. I’ve walked that street, I’ve seen people crutching through the city with bandages covering their shrapnel wounds. I’ve come to adopt this incredible city as my own in the past 4 years, and I was deeply offended that someone could attack it.

On Friday morning, I woke up at 3:00 a.m. to get ready for my internship. When I’d gone to bed hours earlier, two bombing suspects had been identified in photos by the FBI, and an MIT security officer had been shot and killed. Overnight, the events had escalated far quicker than I ever would have thought.

I got into the newsroom early and spent the next 13 hours stalking the Twittersphere, calling sources, running memos between the newsroom and the studio, and doing—for lack of a more comprehensive term—journalism.

Halfway through the day, I drove back into the city to pick up a friend. I was chilled by the empty streets, how a thriving “Hub” of a city could turn into a war zone in minutes. My city looked downright apocalyptic. I let the radio gab in the background and drove my friend to the newsroom, where producers promptly put her on air. A native Russian, she translated the living suspect’s social media page, summarized Slavic news coverage, and kept me company. Everyone was so thankful, and anchors and producers told me I’d done great work…

Me? I’d brought in a girlfriend. But then I kind of realized that that’s what journalism is: It’s networking and pooling resources, sharing knowledge—and I’d helped that process. With her knowledge and my journalistic intuition, we were able to pull relevant information that helped our viewers contextualize the situation.

If I’ve ever had a doubt in my mind whether I loved journalism or not—and we all know I have because it’s been on this blog—it was dispersed on Friday. In a sad way, that fiery, crazed mess of a newsroom was everything that makes me love journalism. Every scoop is a race, and even when I lost, I just kept running.

Hours later, I stumbled into AB’s apartment, crumpled onto appropriately named “Fancy Couch,” and fell asleep to the familiar sounds of on-air ad-libbing. I woke up to the 6 p.m. newser wherein officials basically said “We have no leads and can’t keep people contained anymore.”

When I woke up next, he’d been caught.

What happened then is Boston history. I changed my clothes, gathered my friends and quite literally went skipping down the street. People wore flags like capes, climbed on top of their friends shoulders, and drank beer in the streets, shouting “MURICA” every opportunity they could. Students mobbed Hemenway Street and shouted “B-P-D!” while officers tried to disperse the crowds. I high-fived uniformed officers on the street and watched while one girl passed out Redbull to the exhausted policemen.

I’m not blind to the irony: A mob of drunken students thank officers who’ve been working 16 hours straight and just want to return to their families—officers who have reason to be especially suspect of college-age kids in crowds. It didn’t make sense, but it totally made sense. They were heroes.

What stands out most to me this week is the swift and efficient action taken by the city’s officials, citizens, and visitors. Immediately after the blasts and against all natural impulse, strangers rushed to help those who were hurt. Physical therapy students became triage experts, and ordinary citizens became heroes.

Bystanders and stores sent in thousands of photos from the day, such that the FBI and investigators were able to analyze and confidently point out the accurate perpetrators in only four days. None of the victims that made it to the hospital died, and the community has thus far raised more than $1 million for the victims.

After the bombers (whom I’ve carefully called “suspects” up until today—but can with confidence now call them what they are) killed an MIT security officer, police efficiently chased them down, despite being showered with explosives and gunfire. And after they chased the men to Watertown, police reported from every single town surrounding Boston to aid in the search.

When the mayor requested—not mandated—that people stay inside, they did (except for the few necessarily stupid reporters). And during the lockdown, airlines waived fees, hotels waived room service charges, and the city’s people cared for one another.

The terror rocked our world, but we fought back with textbook responses, with compassion, with a little thing called “Boston Strong.”

Today, at 2:50 p.m., I bowed my head in Northeastern’s Centennial Quad for a moment of silence, but the city wasn’t silent. Bells rang out—from churches and buildings all around the city. Boston’s history is rich, its people resilient and full of pride and patriotism. It seems oddly fitting that a story this awful should start with bombings and end with bells—that’s Boston strong.

MY BIRTHDAY

For my 21st birthday (finally!), I was inspired by this blog post, and am planning 21 Random(ish) Acts of Kindness to be completed during the week of my birthday. I’ll be collecting and donating clothes to benefit veterans, collecting and donating books to Massachusetts jails, volunteering to run BINGO at one of my favorite pet charities in Boston—The Women’s Lunch Place, running a 5K for hunger (more information to come!!)… I’m trying to vary both the act itself (donating funds vs. time vs. goods), as well as the recipients as much as possible. My hope is to make this an annual thing(!), challenging myself every year to come up with innovative and creative new ways to spread the love.

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NJABINI APPAREL

Njabini Apparel is a Boston- and Providence-based company that sells chic accessories and housewares. The products are made by mothers in Njabini, Kenya, who don’t have any other means of income. The revenues go towards paying the mothers four times the national average, funding educational and micro-lending programs, and supporting additional “do-gooder” projects. Recently, Njabini Apparel announced a new project—The Potato Project. Njabini is a social enterprise that I’ve worked with before. I wrote an article about them for The Boston Globe, and have since kept in contact with co-founder Mike Behan about the company’s progress.

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MY REQUEST

As part of my birthday festivities, I will be hosting a Njabini party (similar to a tupperware party, complete with homemade appetizers and a Njabini-tini!). However, I want to do even more. Njabini is trying to raise $35,000 in the next two months in order to fund a new program that would help potato farmers in the area. I want to help them raise those funds. I encourage individuals to donate on their own (and reap the prizes!), but I am also interested in pooling funds: If any one person or party donates $250, they can name one of the potato farms in Kenya. I think $250 is a very reasonable number. If each person I know can donate $10, we can easily make an incredible influence. Plus, it’s my intention to match donations as much as I can manage. I can think of no better name than the Woofers Potato Farm (though I am very receptive to suggestions, nonetheless!).

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Please join me in celebrating my upcoming milestone! The 60-day fundraiser ends during the week of my birthday, so the timing is serendipitous. If you’re interested in participating, please contact me and we can coordinate the best way to transfer/pool funds.

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WHY WOOFERS

For those, who don’t know the significance of “Woof” in my life, it was my father’s nickname, as well as a call to friends and family. It’s the Daniells’ version of “Aloha” and has survived multiple generations and continents—Let’s bring it to Africa!

Superfoods are to normal foods like superheroes are to crack addicts. They’re exponentially more awesome, better for you, typically tasty, and often have the added benefit of making you feel sexy… no but really. You’ve heard that blueberries and salmon and kale are all great for you (truly, they are), but what about the less conventional superfoods? They’re too busy working overtime for your body to be popular… yet. A few of my personal favorites:

CHIA– Ch-ch-ch-chia!! Remember those spectacularly tacky chia pets? Turns out they’re not so horrible. The seeds (yes, the same ones) are loaded with all kinds of good stuff, notably fiber, protein and those glorious omega-3s. The seeds can be ground up into a powder and added to, well, anything; used like sesame seends to sautee veggies in; as a topping on oatmeal; OR–get this–they can be soaked. When the seeds soak in fluid, they retain a ton of it and build up a gooey-like casing that’s like a mini, healthy boba in a drink. Plus, drinking the seeds whole helps your body retain water and stay full. Om nom nom nom…

MACA– When I learned about maca, I immediately bought a bottle of capsulated powder. It’s a root plant originally from Peru that’s sometimes called “horny goat” plant. Goat herders noticed that their goats were especially, um, spirited after consuming the root. Check out all the amazing qualities–Maca combats fatigue, infertitility, menopause symptoms, sexual dysfuntion in men and women, and is said to increase stamina and energy. It’s nature’s remedy for depression, if you ask me. The root tends to come in powder or extract form, and is slightly sweet, making it a great addition to smoothies, baked goods, and treats of all kinds.

GOJI BERRIES– Unless you’re shopping in China or Tibet, goji berries tend to come dried, like bright red raisins  With enough digging, you can also find them raw, in tea, as an extract, or in (very expensive) juice form. They’ve been used for 6,000 years by herbalists in Asia and have numerous benefits: they protect the liver, help eyesight, improve sexual function and fertility, strengthen the legs, boost immune function, and improve circulation.

SPIRULINA– Spirulina is algae. For real. But don’t write it off just yet–the blue-green algae is loaded with nutrients, B-complex vitamins, beta-carotene (that good stuff doctors like in carrots), vitamin E, chlorophyll… the list goes on. That’s one sexy algae. Spirulins is also very high in protein, and often used in powder form as a natural alternative to sugary protein powders. Additional benefits include helping prevent attention defecit hyperactive disorder (ADHD), and also combating cancer–especially oral cancer, fatigue, high cholesterol, and viral infections. It also stimulates the immune system and, if used like a protein-based meal supplement, can help facilitate weight loss.

Have a favorite superfood? Love a certain health product? Email me and I’ll research it for a blog post (and give credit!)–mdaniells21@gmail.com.

Nowadays, the same competitive spirit is there, but I place a little more importance on my aesthetic appearance when I’m working out. I love bright colors, cute clothes, and funky tan lines–because when you have cute workout gear, you’re more inclined to put it to use. At least that’s my justification for shelling out the big bucks for some sexy spandex. Workout gear is expensive, I know. And surprisingly limited to the few big brands. Which is why I’ve compiled a list of gym getups at every price point. Now get out there and start moving and lifting–you can thank me later.

$  It’s not rocket science that coming in at the low end of the price scale is Forever 21. Low cost, but high style, and the quality of their workout clothes is consistent and good. Their bottoms tend to hit at the natural waist, which is flattering for all figures, and the seasonal lines switch over quickly (so snatch things up before they’re gone!). They don’t have shoes or any sort of real specialty clothing, but for the everyday gym-going (or–heck–just plain comfort-seeking) stylista, it’s a safe and solid bet. Price range: $12-30

 $$  I’m obsessed with this new site called Ellie. It’s like Birchbox for workout clothes. Think I’m kidding? Check it out. You’ll be prompted to take an online quiz that inquires about your clothing style, comfort style, workout style and location, preference for shorts v. pants, color v. solid, etc. Then, the site generates a selection catered solely to your needs. Of course, you can always just shop the entire selection. But the real perks? Become a member and for about $50, you can get two articles of clothing. A month. Plus, sign up now and you and a BFF get $20 off your first order. Styles sell out quickly, so check it out early in the month. Gotta say, though–I love everything about it. Price range: $25-50

$$$  I’ve mentioned before, but I am a huge fan of color. Something about neon workout gear is such an upper, and I find myself especially motivated to dirty up colorful new clothes. Nike has a great selection, though not comfortably in my price range, as does adidas and Brooks and other big name brands. But the most popular among my fellow fitness femmes? Lululemon. By a long shot. With clothing catered to yoga and running, there’s a little something for everyone’s taste. Just not everyone’s budget. Price range: $40-100

Who here loves TOMS shoes? I mean nothing’s cooler than buying a hippie-chic pair of shoes and knowing that you’re helping someone in need in the process, right? Only, as we discussed in class—TOMS is a terrible company. Not only do they charge $60 for two pairs of shoes that cost $3 per pair, but they then give that second pair away, meaning they’re robbing some shoemaker in a developing country of his job. My good friends at Forbes have more info.

There’s no denying that the socially-conscious trend is popular, though. There’s something just so damn stylish about helping those in need. It certainly helps justify a shopping trip. So I compiled a couple of brands that have sexy products, and a stylish, social-minded, self-sustaining business model.

Warby Parker is an eyewear company that sells prescription lenses, as well as non prescription sunglasses—all with super classy, vintage-inspired lenses. They’re cheaper than most artificially priced prescription glasses, and a huge chunk of the profits go towards training clinicians in developing countries to test locals’ eyesight, as well as providing those vendors with glasses to then sell at a much-discounted rate. The short of it? Buy a pair of glasses, help someone who otherwise wouldn’t be able to afford it to see. (P.S. I love these sunglasses!)

31 BITS is a chic jewelry company with a wide selection of colorful knick knacks made from recycled materials. The founder buys the beads from women and sells them at a surplus on the international marker, then uses the profits to fund educational programs for the same women she purchases from. Helping women in need? Using recycled materials? Looking chic and saving the world? Now that’s style, especially if you’re rocking this Bella necklace.

Njabini Apparel was started by a Northeastern students, and I actually wrote about the company for the Boston Globe. They sell home goods and accessories that are designed in-house, manufactured by women in Njabini with children, women who would otherwise be unable to work. Those women make generous incomes, and the additional profit generated by sales is recycled into financial education programs, microlending programs, and all around awesome-ness. Personally, I don’t think this loop scarf can do any wrong.

Radiant Cosmetics sells—you guessed it—makeup. Nothing provides that classy finish like a layer of red lipstick and an enlighted soul that’s helped others in need. Though their model isn’t as involved or creative, Radiant donates 20% of their profits to The Captives, an anti-human trafficking organization. Embrace sexy femininity, while empowering other women to embrace their own inherent beauty. And won’t you look just stellar in this matte lipstick in Madrid?

The most important thing in looking for socially-minded brands is to do your homework. Lots of people will try to capitalize on the growing trend of caring about others. Don’t let your care go wasted (or worse—actually do harm). Look at companies’ missions statements, their financial statements and transparency, run a basic Google search. Should you need more information or ideas, SOCO Marketplace has some great suggestions. Happy shopping!

I had the incredible opportunity to serve as a model for a segment on “The Morning Show” featuring various Valentine’s Day date outfits. To the left, a video still (Sadly, no, I didn’t keep the clothes. But I would KILL for the pink outfit Torre wears). Click the photo to be connected to NECN’s website and the online video.

In California, emergencies usually mean fires, and there’s not usually a whole lot of time to prepare. But here in New England, emergencies are weather-related. Meteorologists are able to warn people days ahead of time, and people rush to their local corner stores to stock up on candles and calories and, if you’re in college, tons and tons of booze (Side note: Apparently, they make elderflower cider? Bomb).

While the sky takes a massive white dump on southern New England, I’ll be holed up at home (well… AB’s apartment, which is more or less home), reading and pretending to do homework, and only braving the apocalypse to get breakfast tomorrow morning.

I totally missed out on snow days, growing up in California, but that’s not to say I can’t make up all the fun now. Expect posts. Unless I’m hibernating. Also a very viable and tempting option.

Today in the news studio, a fill-in camera man was making conversation and asked me whether I was Republican or Democrat. Now, for starters, I hate that question because politics aren’t a matter of black and white, or red and blue. I don’t fit into any one category, nor do I think that politics are measured on a scale, like sexuality. More like, politics are measured on an axis. There are numerous factors and dimensions. But rather than babbling on and explaining the polarity of politics, I just said “Sorry, I don’t answer that question.”

I know, I’m so mysterious, right?

Really, I’m just careful. When I mention that I’m a journalist, people immediately label me Democrat, one of those evil “leftist media types.” Which isn’t true at all. I’m not Democrat. I’m not Republican, either. I’m Marian Daniells, bitches, and don’t ya’ll forget it.

But all silliness aside, people are very critical of the media. The media is biased, they say. The media only tells us what they want us to know. The media only pushes their own agenda and exploits innocent people in the name of journalism.

To which I say…

Yeah. And?

I try to be unbiased, and I think many journalists maintain their integrity. But I can’t speak for the industry. There is nothing that says that journalism has to be unbiased, and actually it used to be entirely biased—Federalists read Federalist pamphlets, and Whigs read Whig pamphlets. So, things are actually less biased.

But sometimes, there aren’t two sides to a story, and that’s that. Media is still biased, and if consumers are stupid enough to think that this is the only industry that is biased, they’re kidding themselves. Media is biased because media, dear friends, is first and foremost a business.

We’re not a government-funded public service—we’re individual, competing businesses, working terrible hours for terrible pay and trying to combat impossible challenges like the big, bad Internet, and a world of consumers accustomed to instant gratification. Consumers demand, and we do our best to deliver.

So the media is biased, you say? Then do something: Start a blog, a community pamphlet, a podcast, a news station, a letter to the editor. Tell us what you think and what you want. But the point of the big, bad media business plan is not to brainwash and psych the American public. The business plan—like any business plan—can be boiled down to a pretty simple bottom line: Make money. No matter the news medium, the (ultimate) point is to sell ads. And in order to ensure that advertisers pay us, we need to keep up reader- and viewership. That’s you.

We report what you want to see or read. Simple as that. And if you don’t like it, change the channel, cancel your subscription, and tell us why. When we see people speaking up, or changing the channel, we change our style accordingly, we adapt. But don’t just blame the media. We’re not all crazy Green Party activists determined to brainwash the general public. We’re not the bad guys—not really.

We’re just trying to pay off our student loans.

But when I say flurry, I’m not just talking about New England winters. Things are crazy right now, busy and stormy in an intoxicatingly wild kind of way. A brief, Reader’s Digest-esque recap of the last month or so…

I had an incredible time traipsing around Europe with my family. It’s easy to forget how much I genuinely like them sometimes. I came back to Boston, went straight to AB’s house and we picked up right where we left off. Speaking of cheerful reunions, I’m unspeakably happy to be reunited with my entire wardrobe. Glory, glory. Started classes (meh) and an incredible new internship (yay) at New England Cable News, hence the 3 a.m. alarms twice a week. And on a related note (internship is in nearby Newton, Mass.), I bought a car—a charmingly beat-up 1998 Saturn SL1 that I’ve fondly dubbed Pippy II, after the similarly beat-up vespa I rode with my mother through Tuscany during the 2010 Europefest.

It’s glorious to be back in Beantown, where I feel more at home than ever. I’ve missed life’s little joys—grocery delivery services, late-night pizza, unlimited text messaging, and a little thing called the English language—while in Europe. One thing I didn’t miss? The inability to legally buy booze.

Bear with me as I reacquaint myself with a fast-paced, extracurricular-filled routine and the many stresses of, well, life in America. But stay tuned for all kinds of brain barf in the coming days, weeks, months—there’s nothing like waking up at 3 a.m. to get the creative brain juices flowing.