Not Your Top Chef

I was poked, prodded and forced to drink a thick substance known as Barium. It was my junior year of high school and I underwent a series of medical tests. Doctors could not diagnose the unpleasant feeling and pain I was experiencing. I lost 22 pounds.

One nutritionist purposed a strict new diet that involved foods that I had otherwise never consumed. I learned that the majority of foods I had been eating were highly acidic and thus problematic.

Acid reflux changed my life. It is also the reason I am a cooking extraordinaire.

I learned to prepare my own meals combining all of my new favorite foods. My secret: I follow a guideline that illustrates which foods I can and cannot consume. I then combine at least three protein oriented items with several taste satisfying condiments. This allows for a tremendous amount of creativity and diversity.

Now, a junior at USC, I cook for a handful of my friends within my fraternity. I get satisfaction out of people's reactions. I also encourage constructive criticism so that the next time I make a similar dish, I can encorporate new ideas.

The Food Network is also the source of my inspiration. Giada De Laurentiis, a network star, has inspired several of my favorite Italian dishes to date. Don't get me wrong, I have no intention on being on Bravo's Top Chef. But I would like to continue to further my culinary skills.

When I grow up....

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

I have no idea. Not anymore.

I used to have an interest in print journalism. I think that's changed by now though.

In high school I began my "journalism career" by writing for my student newspaper--freshman year as a freelance writer, sophomore and junior year as a staff writer, and senior year as the editor-in-chief.

It was an experience at a summer program that truly steered me in the direction of journalism. Through a past editor-in-chief of my student newspaper, I heard about the Northwestern University National High School Institute of Journalism. I applied, got accepted and spent six very fun, but very stressful weeks in Evanston, Illinois. Through NHSI, I honed my writing skills and reporting skills. Therefore when it came time to pick colleges, Northwestern was at the top of the list.

But several months later, after getting rejected early decision to Northwestern and being completely distraught, I considered other journalism schools, and only journalism schools (I was very particular at the time). I saw USC's journalism school as the strongest of the ones I'd been accepted to. I applied and was accepted at USC as a print journalism major and started my way as a journalism major in the Annenberg School.

I spent my freshman year working for the student newspaper at SC as a graphic designer, and was lucky enough to find an internship the summer after my freshman year at a Jewish magazine in San Francisco.

To me, landing an internship right out of the gate (after the first year of college) was a feat in itself. I spent eight weeks working for the magazine and was given the freedom to write really cool local, perspective pieces about the Jewish community in the Bay Area.

I finished the internship with a slew of clips, and much more experience under my belt.

My next two years, I bounced around from section to section of the newspaper--from news and design, to lifestyle and design, and at one point, all three sections (stupid idea). At the same time I was dealing with the difficult curriculum of the Annenberg School, learning broadcast writing and reporting, a concept completely foreign to me, and working a job that gave me backdoor experience to the technology of broadcast journalism.

I also developed an interest in political science. I first considered a minor in law and society in sophomore year, and by the end of my sophomore year had declared a double major in political science.I knew my parents were antsy about me declaring a major (journalism) in a dying profession, and I wanted to reassure them (and myself).

So it was no surprise then when the summer after sophomore year I spent my time working for a media group in Israel, doing mainly research and some graphic design (which was the best part). Through this fellowship though I was able to realize it's time to look outside the box and find something that really interests me. I also realized that while I really enjoyed journalism, I wasn't enthused about writing anymore.

So now---after over 2 months in Israel (June-August), dropping 2 newspaper sections (it was too much to handle and I no longer wanted to do it), and and over 2 months interning at a local television station in LA, I can safely say that I no longer am interested in print journalism, but am interested in journalism in general, from the technological perspective: whether online journalism, graphic design, layout or even broadcast journalism.

Writing Greatness

Parent teacher conferences. The three most hated words for any high school student. I paced up and down the hallway anxiously awaiting my parents arrival.

"Tommy, your teacher thinks you ought to join the newspaper staff. So, tomorrow you are going to get the form and see how you like it," my mother said soon as she opened the door.

I pleaded with her to reconsider. She was unknowingly sentencing me to popularity suicide. This was the worst thing that could have happened to me.

I joined the staff and that same day I was named co-sports editor. I thought to myself, "Hey, this could be worse. I am writing about something I actually care about." I turned in one solid story after the next. Coaches and players were eager to get their hands on my sports section.

In writing, my popularity increased immeasurably. I became close friends with the entire football team, the coaches and a good portion of the student body. I was hooked.

Now, I am a junior at the University of Southern California and am still actively pursuing my dreams of writing greatness.  One day, I will write and broadcast my own material on ESPN.

I look back now and realize that writing is the best thing that could have ever happened to me. It is something that will be with me the rest of my life.  

When I grow up...

...no I don't want to be famous, but I want to work in the movies.

From sixth grade on I thought I wanted to be on television. I had a weird obsession with the NBA and my uncle told me to be a sports broadcaster. I went up in front of my elementary school graduating class and said, "I want to be a sports broadcaster just like Hannah Storm."

I only took one journalism class in high school and it was a joke. So I applied to schools known for great journalism to make sure I would make it to ESPN. But once I finally got my shot to be on television and talk about the NBA, I realized how much I hated being on tv. I thought I could just adjust to it, but it wasn't for me. I'm the type of person who hates taking pictures, let alone being on camera.

So I changed my ambitions freshman year and decided I wanted to be a producer. I thought that if I could still stay around sports and journalism I'd be happy. Yet, I find myself gravitating towards a career in my minor, cinema.

I hope that senior year I am able to land a great internship which will lead me to a production/development entry level job in the movie industry. I would like to be located in New York City, but I know most of the jobs are in L.A. and I'm prepared to stay here for my first couple of years.

In 5 years I hope that I can move back to New York to a more executive level job in the industry. I know that I will have to pay my dues just like everyone else has before me but I feel like with hard work, I can get one of those coveted East coast jobs.

shrinking in my seat

In our very first journalism class (History of News), Uncle Felix asked a pretty simple question:

"How many of you worked for your high school newspaper?"

I'm not usually the type of student to sit front and center in a class, but I thought I'd add some variety to my life that day. So there I was, being all chummy with the die-hard journalists when this question was suddenly thrown at me.

My fellow second-rowers (I wasn't bold enough to actually sit in the first row next to the TA's), of course, all raised their hands in response to Uncle Felix, a look of "duhh" on their faces.

I shamefully kept my hand down. That was definitely embarrassing, considering I was probably sitting next to all the former editor-in-chiefs.

I ended up at Annenberg by default. When it came time to choose which college I'd go to, I knew I didn't want to be an English major but I did like writing. So I thought, what the heck? Top-ranked program at a top-ranked school, why not go to USC?

But that was then, and this is now. I've gone from an embarrassingly-clueless-about-what-a-lead-even-is journalism student to one who actually enjoys doing interviews and putting packages together.

I'm still unsure of where I want to end up, but I do know that I want to be respected for my work. Journalism isn't glamorous and it's tough dealing with the kind of people you run into in the profession (politicians, police, mean man-on-the-street interviewees). But it's also extremely rewarding meeting the amazing people who have so much to share. Being able to tell their stories is what I want to do.

And I also just want to be able to raise my hand sometimes...

Hurts So Good

I have an unusual love. It's a love that makes everyone, even my family, think I'm crazy. It's something that is painful but feels so good.

I love waxing and plucking my eyebrows.

Call me crazy, but it's one of the best feelings in the world. I am super anal about my eyebrows; maybe it's because I know if I didn't wax them, they'd look like my father's. Maybe it's just about keeping a routine. Maybe it's about narcissism. Again, I'm not sure about why I do it, but I know I love it when I do. Shaping my eyebrows makes me happy.

I have to get them waxed every two to three weeks or I get really irritated with myself. When I do go, I love the feeling of the hot wax- it's actually very relaxing. The pain I feel is only minor, but I think it feels good because I know it's making my eyebrows look better. I love the way they look once it's done. Clean, shaped, well groomed.

Since I don't have all the money in the world to get them done every week like I would LOVE to, I shape them myself in between waxings. It's not quite the same, but I still get a small feeling of happiness.

French people

The summer after my senior year of high school, my best friends and I did the inevitable: We went on a Eurotrip.

I went into the trip with high expectations for the following: Italian food, Italian men and Italian people. I went into the trip with low expectations for the following: British food and French people.

I was 4/5.

The French, much like the Canadians, get a really bad rep. In my experience, it is completely unfounded.

Let's just say I was impressed with their impeccable looks and perfect fashion sense. But the clincher was this - THEY WERE INCREDIBLY NICE!

In Paris, whether we were lunching in a tiny street bistro or wandering through the Louvre, the French people I encountered greeted with me a glowing smile and that oh-so-charming lilted English.

In Ecuador two summers ago, when I was in a canoe going down the Amazon River, my best friends were a couple from Paris who were simply celebrating being in love. While the French are often criticized for their upturned noses, I spent half the trip in dirty clothes eating spaghetti with ketchup with Francoise and Patrice.

Going back further, during high school, my family hosted a foreign exchange student from France for two years in a row. I still consider him mon frere, or my brother in French, simply because we were kindred spirits on so many different levels

I love the French, and I think you should too.. for there really is no city in the world that makes you feel quite like Paris does. It's the people.