Oberlin Blogs

I'm trying to legitimize my urge to play with my food, take photos, and make movies. I think my film is a good start in that direction.

weekends = brunch. brunch = love. and brunch + love? perfect.

When you visit Oberlin, you must eat at the Feve. The Feve isn't just a restaurant -- it's an experience.

Right before I left for summer vacation, my Facebook status read, 'Zoë goes to the coolest church ever.'

Shishta-who? Shishta-where? Shishta-how? Shishta-wouk! (And many other tasty things.)

Obie weather...

The drugs, plus several more days of going to bed at grandma hours, eventually cured me.

Yard sales, integrating into the Oberlin community, and the hunt for the perfect antique desk.

In this post: two apologies, meta-blogging, Rust Belt aesthetics, an Oberlin vignette, pacts with readers, and overwrought prose.

Keeping in the vein of keeping my blog Oberlin-centric, even if I'm a few thousand miles removed, I'm going to do a run down of local food things I like to play with, in Oberlin industrial kitchens and Hawaiian home kitchens. Kitchens are my playgrounds, but with infinitely more sharp objects and dangerous things the average kid shouldn't play with.

Until this summer, I'd never spent a full day in Cleveland. It was time to change that. It was time to get to know Cleveland, to see if I wanted to deepen our relationship.

There's a flower shop on S. Main that writes a different name on their sign every day, and if you are blessed with that particular name, you get a free flower. I had never seen my own name until this past Commencement.