Starting 30 at 0


It’s still quiet in my house and I lay awake another year older. I am 30.

For a split moment my husband is peacefully sleeping — our son’s feet are hovering near his throat but not penetrating yet.

The dogs are rustling — on the verge of unleashing their rooster-like screams — but all is quiet and I am 30.

The alien inside me is no longer twisting, turning, kicking, jumping, hiccuping and doing Tai Chi. “She” (fingers crossed) has joined in on the family sleep time and I’m enjoying the serenity.

My early 20s were an ambiguous mess of “what’s next?” and my mid-20s were depressed by job loss and a market crash. My later 20s have been a climb: to where I am still not sure.

I’m turning the corner to 30 unaware of next year, the next five, the next 30. I only know that my home is quiet, my mind is rested and today will be starting any moment. Ready, set, woof.


My SleepWalking List

Sometimes we have to go for a “sleepwalk.” Joey boycotted his normal nap time so in an effort to save our family-dinner planned for later, he got duped into a mid-afternoon siesta. The walk is good for me too. I’m forced to clear my head of unwanted thoughts and refill it with things that make me happy, smarter and more whole. Epiphanies like these come to me:

Old Cars Are Unsexy Like Old Men


Photo by

If you’re driving a Model-T-era car it’s impossible to look hot. Whether your a guy or a girl, you’re just not sexy. Your car is equally as unsexy.

Musings in the Cliche


It took me one mile and a fence-climbing morning glory to finally kick my writer’s block. I stopped to take this cliche photo (was going to use the hashtag #clichephoto when posting to social media) and I finally let my brain relax enough to work.

Room to Grow

I really need to let up on myself. I’m admits some big life changes right now and I can’t expect to have it all figured out just yet. I need room to grow. It’s ok not to be perfect. I can stop second-guessing everything. Wait, should I?

Shut Up, He’s Trying To Sleep

I hate you motorcycles.
I hate you barking dogs.
I hate you creepy guy in pick-up truck who beeps the horn.

A Woman’s Story: Raquel Batista, New York City Council Candidate, On Running For Office While Pregnant

Nice to know life goes on for us breeders. Atta girl Raquel Batista: pregnant political candidate.



Can you be pregnant and run for public office at the same time? Of course you can. But people will undoubtedly comment on it.

Raquel Batista, who is running to represent the Bronx in the New York City Council, was pregnant with daughter Carmen for most of her campaign. According to Batista, constituents constantly commented on her pregnancy and asked how she planned to juggle the position with a newborn.

When Sally Kohn interviewed Batista for The Daily Beast on August 22, she wrote: “What’s noteworthy is that Batista’s pregnancy was never seen as a positive — a sign that if she would fight this hard to get into office while pregnant, imagine how hard she would fight for her constituents while in office.”

This week, Batista spoke to Erin Matson at RH Reality Check about her experiences and the message she hopes to send to women watching her…

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Remembering The Brave

Photo of Joseph Higgins for Patch by Amy Mortensen

Thinking of all the first responders I know on this Sept. 11 anniversary – those who have chosen a career to serve and save others. Thank you for your service.

Two years ago I was granted the prestigious opportunity to interview the FDNY Deputy Director of Dispatch Operations for all five boroughs of New York, Joseph Higgins. Higgins is now a Branford resident.

Here’s an excerpt from our interview published on Branford Patch, Sept. 11, 2011. (Read full article here (it has some errors due to Patch redesign issues))

Higgins was stationed at the Manhattan call center. He fielded 911 calls from those trapped inside the Towers:

At the center, Higgins recalled the experience as surreal. He remembers talking with Kevin Cosgrove who was on the 105th floor of tower two. They were on the phone he stated, nine minutes and 10 seconds. “The quality of the conversation was deteriorating rapidly because of the smoke inhalation,” he said. Cosgrove asked Higgins, he recalled, if the fire trucks were coming from Ohio? To Cosgrove, the rescue seemed as though it would never come.

Somewhere in the stairwells of tower two, firefighters were trying to get to Cosgrove but they did not make it. Higgins said, while on the phone with Cosgrove, he heard a rumble and then heard Cosgrove yell, “Oh my God.” Then, said Higgins, “the tower came down.”

Higgins attended 27 funerals post-Sept. 11 ­– sometimes three in one day he said.

Photo for Patch of glass from window of one tower by Amy Mortensen.

Free Labor Thoughts on Labor Day

I never actually had to wear a name tag at any internship. Photo courtesy of

We said goodbye to summer yesterday, Labor Day, so now it’s time to talk about work. Many of you who know me – my husband leading the pack – will agree that most topics out of my mouth are work-related. I’m a glutton for punishment. I like work. It’s my father’s entrepreneurial blood coursing through my views, tainted with my mother’s old English sternness and no-nonsense sensibility that has turned me into a workaholic.

It’s with many years toiling in various fields that I comment on Britain’s movement to ban advertising of free internships.

A recent article in the Guardian states: “The web’s biggest job-boards, including Monster, Milkround and Totaljobs, have banded together to call for the government to outlaw the advertising of possibly tens of thousands of unpaid positions that contravene national minimum wage laws.”

Deputy Prime Minister Nicholas Clegg, “rejects call for ban,” stating such action would create a black market for internships.

The general thought from the opposition is only “rich” students are taking unpaid internships while the working class is left to “work.” Clegg actually agrees with his opposition, but argues that the ban on the advertising of unpaid work will lead to an even worse “who you know” mentality making it even harder for average youth to land opportunities.

Many of the points are true. Many I’m not entirely sure I agree with.

I wanted to be a writer for as long as I can remember (since senior year of high school) and a journalist since I learned how to spell (freshman year of college; still can’t spell). Once I made my mind up, and I realized how tough the industry was to break into, I began the search for free work.

I landed my first unpaid internship at Philadelphia Weekly as a sophomore at Temple University in Philadelphia, PA and at the same time, my first job as an on-campus pub hostess.

The free internship was my first introduction to the “real world” of journalism outside the field trips professors had taken our classes on to various newsrooms in the city. The hostess gig was great money, especially on $.25 draft nights when I doubled as a beer slinger. 

At Philly Weekly, I had a shared workspace and an old tan-colored PC computer to work on. I was “in charge” of “compiling the arts & entertainment event listings” (sounded great on my first resume), which meant I manually typed event listings fed through a fax machine into a Quark file. In the first week, I learned that the version of Quark I was using was so old that it couldn’t even save automatically. I lost my first week of work when the power mysteriously went out. I never forgot to hit “control + Alt +S” ever again.

Whether the big lesson was learning how to save files every moment or it was about finding a stepping stone to the next gig, my first internship was one of the most valuable work experiences I ever obtained. I never once dreamed I should have been paid. I could not believe the company would let me do all that work. For free. I wore my badge of free labor with pride.

From Philly Weekly it was off to Connecticut Magazine the following summer where I also “compiled” their arts & entertainment calendar. I had put my time in by internship number two so I was also given assignments to do “features” reporting. That summer I also had a paid part-time job.

After Connecticut Magazine I went to Philadelphia Magazine where I organized a “hoagie taste-test” and became the unofficial keeper of all the young interns. I was seasoned by then. I had also graduated to hostess of one of the most popular restaurants in the city. From dirty college pub to the Rittenhouse Square dining elite; I had arrived.

After graduating, I still worked for free, taking my last internship as a research intern at the Village Voice (still working a part-time job). I went from arts and hoagies to muckraking and digging in political filth. The last free gig was the hardest. I can promise I would have never obtained that job if I had not worked my way through the other internships.  I called the Village Voice almost everyday to “check on the status of my application” when I was applying. I truly believe they got so annoyed with me calling that the editor gave me an interview to shut me up. He threw his legs on top of the desk as he interviewed me – so casual I thought for sure he was blowing me off. I learned later that meant he was comfortable with the situation (or really needed to rest his feet). He told me he didn’t want to hire me because I would have to take the train from Connecticut to New York and he didn’t think I would have the stamina to do it. I did. And I always arrived at least an hour before the “rich” kid whose daddy paid for his apartment next to the office in Greenwich Village.

So I think the Brits have a point: it’s far easier for wealthy kids “in the know” to land free internships. I probably would have struggled to work the ones I did if I had to pay rent and college tuition all on my own. But what I don’t agree with at all, is acting as if working free has no value.

When you sign-on to work for free it shows you’re passionate about what you’re doing. You figure out what your made of and what it takes to accomplishment a task because you love what you’re doing or you’re so eager to learn something new. It’s the hazing period you need to keep you humble as you enter the real working world where favors are never done for you and where people get promoted around you all the time. That’s life. It’s better to learn early.

So what should students get out of working for free beside experience and open doors for future opportunity? College credit in my opinion. Every internship should equal some college credit and students should be allowed to do an internship every semester in exchange for a regular course. I am proposing that students actually pay for their internships!

The U.S. Department of Labor has set up a list of unpaid intern criteria that for-profit companies must follow in employing people for free. Perhaps the most important point, and the one that neatly wraps up my thoughts today: “The internship experience is for the benefit of the intern…”


So go get a free job kids and help yourself. It many be the only chance you’ll ever have to work someplace so amazing as the New York Times, Vice Magazine or a web start-up creating something brand new and industry-changing. You’ll have your whole life to work for minimum wage and for half of what you deserve at some place that’s average at-best. I promise.


By the Numbers

U.S. general unemployment June 2011: 9.2%

Britain unemployment for those two-years post graduate, June 2011: 18.9%

U.S. Min. Wage 2013: $7.25

Britain Min. Wage 2013: $9.46 (6.08 pounds)*

*Britain’s cost of living is 18% higher than U.S. According to Daily Mail article.

Happy Anniversary Irene

Two years ago today, we awoke in our beachside neighborhood of Indian Neck, Branford, just in time to watch Long Island Sound flood past our doors.

A neighborhood filled with some of the most unique, passionate and generous people I have ever known was shaken to its core. A year later, Sandy uprooted their lives again.

This day marks the day we lost our tiny rental beach cottage; the day our first son Joseph began his life journey; the day we grew as a family from one chapter to the next; the day I personally realized how dangerous and detrimental our world is to the environment; the day I met Mother Nature in all her glory.

"But we don't have a waterfront cottage."

“But we don’t have a waterfront cottage.”

The video says what we experienced best.

Thanks to my husband Joe for sticking by me while I covered this epic moment for Branford Patch. Without him we would have lost our brand new car and, well, pretty much everything we owned.

Hello Irene.

Hello Irene.

Glad I am dry as I am looking back on this day.

"But we don't have a dock."

“But we don’t have a dock.”

A Letter to My Patch Friends

Jeff Williams Mans the Patch booth at the Branford Festival when no one knew what "Patch" was. Thanks Jeff!

Jeff Williams Mans the Patch booth at the Branford Festival when no one knew what “Patch” was. Thanks Jeff!

Ugh. I should be working and here I am thinking about you guys again. Thinking about my former Patch colleagues and trying to understand my feelings about last week’s devastating news that as many as 500 of you would lose your jobs this week in a massive layoff. Is it 501 if you count Able Lenz, the poster child of this epically poor un-Patching?

I’m not going to go into how horribly the media covered the news of AOL CEO Tim Armstrong firing Lenz, Patch’s former creative director though I’m pretty sure Fox & Friends’ coverage was the worst; I am going to say briefly that you, my friends in Green, must stop #waiting.

Former fellow Patchers, you are not lying in wait for the axe… whether it comes today, tomorrow or Friday. You’re not some helpless ants waiting to be crushed by the hurried and clumsy feet of over zealous toddlers. You are wonderful and strong writers. You are journalists and artists and reporters and researchers and mothers and fathers and husbands and wives. Before Patch you were you and after Patch you will continue to be. And you will be so much better.

Life began a new when I left the company in January not only because I was finding my way in new motherhood but I realized I could breath again. I realized that every time a siren sounded, I was not the ONLY person responsible for heeding the call. For rising to action. The job model of one-person-does-it-all was not and is not sustainable. Take a group of over ambitious people and try to make them NOT work when called to? Journalism is a vocation and your devotion to the practice has been abused. Even doctors go on rotation; no one person can work every waking moment.

Even as some of you receive news of a layoff, I know in my heart if breaking news were to occur at the same time, you’d follow the story and deal with your layoff after. It’s completely illogical but then again you have to be to be a journalist. Sometimes anyway.

If you’re one to get a pink slip I promise you, you won’t regret the leave. You are so much smarter today than so many of your peers who have not had the opportunity to work at Patch. You had a chance to attend the boot camp of new journalism and that makes you valuable in any job you take next. I can’t tell you how many skills I use from my Patch days every single day in all the different jobs I do… including being a mom!

It’s hard to see when you’re in the thick of it, but I promise my friends, the ones who have given up so much in the past few years, you’re going to be OK regardless of the outcome. Either way you are better today than yesterday. To quote an old Editor: “Onward.”

Seeing as Patch 2.0 (or whatever it’s called) never

transferred our videos, here’s some #vintagepatch