Running Through My CD Collection: Day 15

So everyone is probably back to some kind of exercise routine, because...January! I commandeered the workout wagon again in September, when I realized the adventure race I had run three years previously would decimate me now, prompting me to recruit "a guy" to show up on my doorstep twice a week to whip me back into shape. The guy has a name (it's Chris), but my co-workers think it's funny when I have to leave right on time on Wednesdays and Fridays because my "guy" is coming. There are lots of potential guy-themed jokes to be had, and we've had them all.

But if you're starting a workout regimen anew for 2017, here are five no-fail tips that I actually can't offer a guarantee on, but yeah, they're pretty good:

1. Always exercise on Mondays.

2. Treat every day like a new day and a chance to start fresh (even on Tuesday if you didn't follow Rule No. 1 and exercise on Monday).

3. Drink lots of water. Not drinking water can make you tired. Science!

4. Listen to excellent music.

5. Invite "a guy" to come to your house twice a week.

I haven't consistently kept up with the CD/exercise experiment I started a year and a half ago, because I'm lazy and there's work and kids and trying to write other stuff and other stuff in general, but I'm not psyched about what I see looking outward lately, so I'm retreating back to temporary inwardness to hold me over till...whenever.

Now that that's out of the way:

Today's album: Pandora mix, because I cleaned up a lot of crap for holiday guests and can't figure out where I put my CD case, which is enormous, so WTF.

Length: 1 hour

Activity: 45 minutes treadmill, 5 minutes power exercising, 10 minutes stretching

What listening to this album made me think of: I cranked up the "Frankie Goes to Hollywood" channel on Pandora, which gave me enough synthesized fodder to get through the worst of it. It made me think about a bunch of things, because there were a bunch of songs:

• 18-minute remix version of "Relax" by Frankie Goes to Hollywood: 
All I could think about was a) when is this remix ending, because even though I like this song I want a different song now, and b) how I was mortified when I found out, at around the age of 14, what "when you want to come" meant.

• "Hold Me Now" by the Thompson Twins: 
This really is a beautiful, if clichéd, song, but I laugh whenever I hear it because my first boyfriend and first real heartbreaker once wrote me an amorous letter and included this at the end: "You say I'm a dreamer, we're two of a kind. Both of us searching for some perfect world we know we'll never find." 

Maybe it was the subterfuge of my Cyrano removing the song-break slashes and swapping in commas and periods, and yeah, it did sound incredibly familiar to me when I first took it all in, and sure, there probably should've been some sort of red flag (I didn't recall any conversation when I had broached his dreamer status). But I was so infatuated that my brain short-circuited and I thought it was the most romantic thing anyone in the history of Planet Earth had ever written to anyone else, a glowy delusion I absorbed into my DNA and that probably kept the relationship going far longer than it was meant to go. It was only a few months after we had broken up and I was seeking closure through old letters when I came across this, suddenly pinpointed the origin, and thought, "Figures."

• "Always Something There to Remind Me" by Naked Eyes:
 This song evoked no emotion.

• "Suicide Blonde" by INXS: 
This is my least favorite INXS song, yet my most favorite INXS song to work out to.

• "Hungry Like the Wolf" by Duran Duran: 
Friends from junior high.

• "Just Like Heaven" by The Cure: 
I've always hated The Cure, a loathing exacerbated by the fact that a girl who lured a college boyfriend from me was a Cure devotee. Hate (even though I don't really hate her/him anymore, just the feeling it dredges up) = running impetus.

• "True Faith" by New Order:
This song led me back to thinking outwardly, which I DO NOT WANT TO DO RIGHT NOW, but luckily it was the last song of the workout.

Review: I liked all of the songs except the Cure song, but I made it work for me because that's how I roll.

How I felt after: Annoyed when my parents showed up at the 40-minute mark and my dad started taking pictures of me on the treadmill. Good otherwise, though still fighting the asthma that has returned over the past couple of months to torture me.

Random fact I learned about these artists/albums: I didn't know "Relax" was banned by the BBC, though not surprising. Nice!

Why I'm doing this: See Day 1. 

Tweets and treats at @jenngidman.

Running Through My CD Collection: Day 14

Today's album: The Black Sessions: Live in Paris (Frank Black) 

Length: 1 hour, 6 minutes

Activity: Lame treadmill walk

What listening to this album made me think of: I saw Frank Black live in NYC at Irving Plaza sometime in the mid-'90s, so that's what came to mind. He opened for They Might Be Giants and at one point during the performance had eight guitars draped around his neck and body.

Review: I could write lots about Frank Black in general, but I'll save that for a regular Frank Black album and limit this to live Frank Black. Live Frank Black is even more frenetic than regular Frank Black and even more fun. Listen to how he amps up "chop chop chop chop" on "Thalassocracy" and you'll see what I mean.

How I felt after: My left flank started feeling fucked about halfway through, but otherwise pretty good.

Random fact I learned about this artist/album: Frank Black's mom and stepdad joined an evangelical church when he was young, which explains his somewhat-obsession with the Bible and religion in many of his Pixies songs.

Why I'm doing this: See Day 1. 


Tweets and treats at @jenngidman.

Running Through My CD Collection: Day 13

Today's album: Maroon (Barenaked Ladies) 

Length: 53 minutes

Activity: Brisk treadmill walk

What listening to this album made me think of: How much I miss early Barenaked Ladies.

Review: I've only listened to this album a couple of times, and as soon as the first song started playing, I remembered why. The charming quirk of Gordon-era BNL started to dissipate once the Top 40 charts got their hands on "One Week," off the prophetically named album Stunt. Songs #1 and #2 ("Too Little Too Late" and "Never Do Anything") fall squarely into this bland category of head-bopping mediocrity. All of their songs in this vein tend to sound the same, and some people are into that sound; I happen not to be. There's also a song on here ("Baby Seat") whose first few bars are reminiscent of the Rolling Stones' "Miss You." I hate the Rolling Stones.

The third song, the hit "Pinch Me," reminded me why I love most of the songs fronted by Ed Robertson. He's got a soothing, smooth voice that occasionally veers into rasp, his lyrics are always weird and interesting, and he's got an amazing talent for creating songs that meld melancholy with heightened hope and layered acoustical beauty. Better examples of this are "When I Fall," off of Born on a Pirate Ship, and "Watching the Northern Lights," from All in Good Time.

Of course, there are Ed-centric exceptions to this rule, like "Falling for the First Time" on this album. The lyrics are kind of cool, but it's hard for me to sync up taking that gorgeous, heady plummet into infatuation with the frenetic tambourine-playing featured here.

Steven Page is an odd bird. His voice is an acquired taste and works well on that earlier quirk I talked about ("Enid," "Hello City"). Even though I can't really say I *liked* "Sell, Sell, Sell" on this album, I much prefer the experimental peeling back of the layers he tends to get into the deeper you get into any Barenaked Ladies album (think "Box Set") than the pop schlock the group churns out for hipsters with him at the mic. "Sell, Sell, Sell" did keep my attention, for what it's worth. SP is also pretty good at plaintive wailing when he wants to be.

How I felt after: Uninspired, though the album was so boring that I did write an entire song in my head about curb appeal and cleaning up your house before you have to sell it. It's pretty sad. My song, I mean. And I guess the fact that this album was boring.

Random fact I learned about this artist/album: They recorded "The Humour of the Situation" completely naked. Apparently they do this with at least one song on every album.

Why I'm doing this: See Day 1. 


Tweets and treats at @jenngidman.

Running Through My CD Collection: Day 12

Today's album: Billboard Top Modern Rock Tracks 1990 (Various) 

Length: 41 minutes

Activity: Treadmill walk

What listening to this album made me think of: Where the fuck was I in 1990, because I only know three songs on this album. 

Oh yeah—I was in Buffalo in 1990, getting over a breakup with my first love back home after several years together, immersing myself in Buffalonian and Canadian music like the Goo Goo Dolls and Barenaked Ladies and moe. (mostly via osmosis because Rob and Chuck of moe. lived two rooms down from me in my dorm and I hung out in their room a lot and didn't give a shit whether they stylized moe. with a period or not, just if they had enough Labatt Blue for everyone, and by "everyone" I mean "me").

What I'm saying is I obviously didn't listen to too much of what was on the radio that year while ensconced in my Buffalo bubble.

Review: I can only adequately and fully speak to three songs on this compilation album:

• "Suicide Blonde," INXS: I can speak to this song, but there's not much to say, because I don't care much for it. Early INXS was best, peaking with Kick, which is one of my favorite albums of all time. I don't know if that's because it came out the year I graduated high school and therefore is entwined with all of that idyllic perfection one attributes to one's senior year of high school after much time has passed and selective middle-aged amnesia has taken hold. It's probably just a really excellent album.

• "Birdhouse in Your Soul," They Might Be Giants: This is before Malcolm in the Middle appropriated "Boss of Me," when TMBG was still quirky and so college, and I was so completely enamored that I blew my first pathetic Apple Bank paychecks to check them out at Irving Plaza and Roseland when I came back to the Island from Buffalo for good. It was fun to hear them again; it's been awhile.

• "Here's Where the Story Ends," The Sundays: I know it, but it makes me feel nothing. I thought of nothing. I was nothing.

How I felt after: Not as nostalgic as I'd hoped I'd feel. 

Random fact I learned about this artist/album: I learned nothing.

Why I'm doing this: See Day 1. 


Tweets and treats at @jenngidman.

Running Through My CD Collection: Day 11

Today's album: Back in Black (AC/DC) 

Length: 42 minutes

Activity: Treadmill run/incline walk

What listening to this album made me think of: Being in a seedy Buffalo bar (probably Sutter's), because when I'm trying to peel the soles of my shoes off a sticky linoleum floor while drinking an Alabama slammer is the only time I really enjoy listening to AC/DC.

Review: I don't really like AC/DC. As previously stated. Much like I don't really like the Rolling Stones, Aerosmith, or Bruce Springsteen. Don't try to convince me with arguments. The heart wants what the heart wants, and it's not AC/DC. "Shook Me All Night Long" is a great song, though.

How I felt after: My feet and ankles hurt.

Random fact I learned about this artist/album: Mutt Lange's real name is Robert John. I know this because Robert John "Mutt" Lange is splashed right across the front of the CD.

Why I'm doing this: See Day 1. 


Tweets and treats at @jenngidman.

Running Through My CD Collection: Day 10

Today's album: Quest of the Dream Warrior (David Arkenstone) 

Length: 53 minutes

Activity: Treadmill run/incline walk

What listening to this album made me think of: Being a strong, lean New-Age replicant (because it had moments where it reminded me of the Blade Runner soundtrack). Finding my inner courage—which I did when the line "Feel your beating heart; touch the empty sky" played. I tried to do just that and nearly fell off the treadmill because I lost my center, and almost my balance. It's funny I felt this pennywhistle-inspired fearlessness, because I told my therapist tonight how much of my feeling lately has been stoically muted into a comfortable yet somewhat dreadful, sad limbo. I guess music still has the effect to dredge up something, which is nice to know.

Review: I didn't think this randomly selected album was going to work for a run (seems better suited for stretching), but it was surprisingly and thankfully energizing.

How I felt after: Good. Very good. So good, in fact, that it tricked my brain into thinking I was satisfied with the spicy red-pepper soup with yogurt sauce I had for dinner. Dumb brain.

Random fact I learned about this artist/album: That this is the second album in a trilogy, based on a fantasy story David Arkenstone concocted (no surprise there, even though I didn't know this). Also that there's a fold-out map of the fantasy world this album is set in that should've come with the CD. I'll have to look in my CD book where I keep all my album liners to see if this is indeed true. I don't feel like getting up now, though. I'll circle back with news later. Maybe.

Why I'm doing this: See Day 1. 

Note: This is, for now, labeled "Day xxxxx" because I actually have a bunch of blog entries to fill in for the last month or so that I've been too lazy to do. 


Tweets and treats at @jenngidman.

Running Through My CD Collection: Day 9

Today's album: The Idler Wheel Is Wiser Than the Driver of the Screw and Whipping Cords Will Serve You More Than Ropes Will Ever Do (Fiona Apple) 

Length: 43 minutes

Activity: Treadmill run/walk

What listening to this album made me think of: Autumn evenings. My awesome plaid pants that I'd like to wear again soon around town. Walking around NYC in the chilly night air until that perfect cozy gastropub pops up—there had better be mussels fra diavolo and crusty warm bread to dip. A long, booze-soaked night listening to live music. 

Review: I couldn't find my headphones, so it was hard to hear anything other than growls and raw anger and wailing over the whir of the treadmill. That worked well enough, though. I'll listen to this for real tomorrow while I'm working.

How I felt after: An angry and cynical yet determined robot.

Random fact I learned about this artist/album: Fiona Apple is referred to as "Feedy" on this album. That kind of creeps me out.

Why I'm doing this: See Day 1. Also jump-starting this again because I'm once more hovering on the edge of that slippery slope, as well as flirting with a return of my gestational diabetes (except I'm not gestating this time). My doctor wants to run bloodwork again in six months, and my birthday is coincidentally six months from today, so: to possible new beginnings, better blood, and traction.


Tweets and treats at @jenngidman.

Running Through My CD Collection: Day 8

Today's album: Last Splash (The Breeders) 

Length: 41 minutes

Activity: Stretching

What listening to this album made me think of: My friend Matt "Buck X" Lerner, because he first played it for me in college when we were at a stir-fry dinner together. He's still one of my favorite people.

The end of college.

A guy I pined for 20 years ago, previously mentioned, because I did a cover of "Do You Love Me Now?" and he liked it. I don't know if he just said that to humor me, but I didn't fucking care.

Review: What a rawkkkkkkin' album. I didn't mean to type so many k's, but the letters in the second row of my keyboard appear to be giving me trouble, so they just all flooded out at once as I pounded on the "k." But rawkkkkkkin' fits, so kkkkkkkeeping it. 

My favorite song is "No Aloha." The Hawaiian vibe, her voice, everything. Also, I'm the best at purring, "And now we die. Oooooooh, all the treats." I say it/sing it whenever I can slip it into casual conversation.

How I felt after: Like playing the guitar. Like a bad-ass. Like no one can ever fuck with me (says the person who is stretching).

Random fact I learned about this artist/album: Didn't know till this very moment that Spike Jonze and Kim Gordon directed the video for "Cannonball." Cool.

Why I'm doing this: See Day 1.


Tweets and treats at @jenngidman.

Running Through My CD Collection: Day 7

Today's album: Booth and the Bad Angel (Tim Booth and Angelo Badalamenti) 

Length: 48 minutes

Activity: Stretching

What listening to this album made me think of: I had to take some time off to start this thing, even though I tried to start it in August. I went down for an extended visit with my parents in Florida, and between eight-hour workdays followed by 10-hour theme park/kid shifts, there was no free time. Zero. Zip. Which was fine for bonding, but not for things like this. Whatever this is.

So now I'm back. This album reminds me of the second time (out of three) I returned to the same trade-publishing house in the industrial park that I fled shortly out of college to become an "entrepreneur" (more on that with a few future albums in my collection). 

The powers-that-be stuck me this time around in an office in No Man's Land (probably to spite me for leaving the first time), and I was free to fill this dead zone all day long with my glorious music. The only other person was who there with any regularity was a woman named Esther who managed a magazine for the industrial paint industry. She was nice, though I did some freelance work for her once proofreading a chart all about specialty veneers, which made me want to blow my brains out. 

Anyway, I listened to this album over and over that year, especially when I was bent over that chart.

Review: This is one of my favorite albums (it's the guy from James and the guy who did the instrumental Twin Peaks music). It's just lovely. I don't have much else to say.

How I felt after: The way I usually feel after listening to this album—a little haunted, a little like I'm falling out of the sky, a lot like getting into my car and speeding down to the ocean in the middle of the night and drinking myself into a stupor.

Random fact I learned about this artist/album: Tim Booth played Judas in a Passion play.

Why I'm doing this: See Day 1.


Tweets and treats at @jenngidman.

Running Through My CD Collection: Day 6

Today's album: Ayeshteni (Natacha Atlas) 

Length: 59 minutes

Activity: Stretching

What listening to this album made me think of: The girl I worked with who gave it to me after she heard me listening to the English Patient soundtrack and the Peter Gabriel Passion album and figured I would enjoy this. I politely accepted it and meant to listen to it at some point, but I think it just unintentionally ended up in the back of the CD book.

It also reminds me of the Spike Lee movie Inside Man with Denzel Washington, which had a very cool Bollywood-style song during the opening credits called "Chaiya Chaiya," except that was much better than this.

Review: A cover of "I Put a Spell on You" on here made me want to die. You can't beat Screamin' Jay on this one. Actually, the whole thing made me want to die. I'm tired and want to go to sleep and don't want to listen to anymore. Which bums me out, because I thought I'd really dig this. I do think her name is pretty rad, though. And I sort of liked "Mish Fadilak."

How I felt after: Cultured? Nah.

Random fact I learned about this artist/album: Natacha was born in Belgium but is of Egyptian ancestry and likes to sing most of her songs in Arabic. She also collaborated with Belinda Carlisle on an album.

Why I'm doing this: See Day 1.


Tweets and treats at @jenngidman.

Running Through My CD Collection: Day 5

Today's album: Tidal (Fiona Apple) 

Length: 52 minutes

Activity: Stretching

What listening to this album made me think of: Fuck everything.

Review: Fuck everything.

How I felt after: Fuck everything.

Random facts I learned about this artist/album: Kanye West said "Sleep to Dream" contained one of the best opening lines of a song he's ever heard: "I have never been so insulted in all my life." The entire song is the shit, actually. Macy Gray also supposedly tried to cover this song and couldn't because she said it was too difficult.

Why I'm doing this: See Day 1.


Tweets and treats at @jenngidman.

Running Through My CD Collection: Day 4

Today's album: Arc Angels (Arc Angels) 

Length: 1 hour, 1 minute

Activity: Stretching

What listening to this album made me think of: College. I somehow acquired this album as one of the comps we'd receive for possible review for the school magazine. I don't know if I ever listened to it before tonight. I don't think so.

Review: Take the worst song from a Black Crowes album, the worst song from a Pearl Jam album, the worst song from a Live album, and the worst song performed live by your local bar band—that's this. Or maybe I was cranky because I remembered this self-imposed exercise obligation after I came back at 11:30 p.m. last night from happy hour with old work friends from 20 years ago.

How I felt after: Cranky. Confused. Melancholy. Hung out with someone I fell in love with years ago but could never pursue because he was married, and everything came flooding back and put me in "a mood." We had an excellent time, but then the evening ended. All I could do was stretch and lie staring at the ceiling. Not even bad bar-band music could snap me out of it. Oh well. I suppose I'm healthier and more limber for my troubles.

Random fact I learned about this artist/album: This album/band is supposed to be Stevie Ray Vaughn Lite. Or something like that.

Why I'm doing this: See Day 1.


Tweets and treats at @jenngidman.

Running Through My CD Collection: Day 3

Today's album: Deseo (Jon Anderson) 

Length: 44 minutes 

Activity: Stretching

What listening to this album made me think of: I'm a YES-head, and more specifically a Jon Anderson-head. I never really know what the heck he's talking about, because he's way out there, but I always feel uplifted and alive after listening to either YES or his solo stuff. I know how corny I sound, but I don't care, because I just listened to this album and it all makes sense in the moment.

Deseo is one of his ventures into world music, this one influenced by Latin and South American sounds, and it always transports me far away from wherever I am (in tonight's case, my living room floor). 

Review: It's got a very similar sound to 1989's Anderson Bruford Wakeman Howe album, which affected me in similar but different ways. It's alternately soothing and seductive, and I get sucked right in.

How I felt after: Relaxed. Hopeful. In love with the idea of being in love. Able to breath better. Beset with an urge to be honest, and free in that honesty. Hopeful.

Random fact I learned about this artist/album: The same year (1994) Jon Anderson released this album and Change We Must (which I also own), he sang on a kids' video game called Tuneland, designed for children ages 3 to 6 and starring Howie Mandel, with other music by members of Pink Floyd and the Doobie Brothers. Huh.

Why I'm doing this: See Day 1.


Tweets and treats at @jenngidman.

Running Through My CD Collection: Day 2

Today's album: Wonderful (Adam Ant) 

Length: 47 minutes 

Activity: Treadmill 

What listening to this album made me think of: I have a feeling I acquired this album as a "Selection of the Month" through my Columbia House/BMG club memberships, because I can't recall ever listening to it. Or I might have grabbed it because of "Wonderful," because there was time when I had discretionary income that allowed me to throw my money away on one song like that.

Review: This album confused me. Every song was weird and loud enough to catch my attention, but so is Donald Trump (sorry, watching the GOP debate). Some songs evoked James, some a bar band, some U2, some the Beatles—none of which are inherently bad, but mashed together are...confusing. Faced with such lines as "Just standing next to you is like making love," I had to make the call, in between swigs from my Poland Spring bottle and adjusting the treadmill's incline, whether lines like that were brilliant or stupid.

I did like this song, though. I hated the last song. Run with that.

How I felt after: Confused. Also a little uneasy, because when Adam Ant's "Goody Two Shoes" came out in 1982, kids in my class started calling me Goody-Goody Gidman, and not in the cool, Nathaniel Hawthorne witch-way. I was a bookworm. I was an innocent. I was a teacher's pet. I was fucked. I regressed to age 11 during this run, and it was slightly uncomfortable.

In the physical sense, my right foot has either become Diabetes Foot or Pussy Foot or something else not that's not a Good Foot, but it hurt like hell through the entire run. 

Random fact I learned about this artist/album: According to the Internets, Adam Ant has some interesting-sounding tattoos, including one that shows Lord Nelson's last prayer before the Battle of Trafalgar. Nice.

Why I'm doing this: See Day 1.


Tweets and treats at @jenngidman.

Running Through My CD Collection: Day 1

Between the Cassette Tape '80s and the MP3 Aughts, I amassed scads of CDs that now languish in a cricket-infested basement. Not sure how many I have, but I guess I'll know these things by the end of this regimen.

By "this regimen," I mean the most recent exercise gimmick I've introduced to keep boredom at bay: Run/jog/walk/saunter/stretch/body-contort three to five days a week, each day to a different CD in this CD collection*, until I work my way through the entire stockpile. 

I don't have very sophisticated musical tastes, but each CD did what it was supposed to do when I needed it to, and that counts for something.

Today's album: The Sign (Ace of Base) 

Length: 46 minutes 

Activity: Treadmill 

What listening to this album made me think of: The Sign came out right after college graduation, when I had successfully nabbed my first** low-paying publishing job*** along Long Island's Route 110 corridor. Which meant I spent a lot of time blasting this album as I sped through the industrial park to happy hours along said sad corridor. 

Nothing back then made me happier than a) post-college happy hours with other young people trying to cope with real-world non-happy hours, and b) sweet Swede reggae-pop (do not call it Eurotrash) blasting from the CD player the Saturn dealership threw in for free in my 1994 S-Series sedan, the first car I bought without adult supervision. It looked like this, without the pinstripe:

Listening to this made me think of that. And of the hours spent in the bedroom I still leased in my parents' house, armed with a cassette player and a Casio keyboard that allowed me to re-record a goodly cross-section of the Ace of Base discography. I mastered my mimicry of Linn Berggren's guttural sputterings—it's no small feat to growl "baby" like she does at 1:12 in "Wheel of Fortune" without blowing out your vocal cords—and didn't totally butcher Buddha and Joker's trancelike analog synths, the efforts of which I'd demo here if I were motivated to dig through my garage crates for that MIA shoebox of abandoned cassettes.

Hearing this CD again also reminded me of another Ace of Base song, "Whenever You're Near Me," which I first heard as its European counterpart, "Life Is a Flower," in June 1998 while gazing upon goats from my poolside perch on a Mykonos mountainside overlooking the Aegean:

 My Cycladic Canaan, a.k.a. the San Marco Hotel

It was a hedonistic stay in remote digs, and "Life Is a Flower" transmitted from the hotel PA system and baked into my brain forever.

Review: No complaints.

How I felt after: I forgot I can't run the AC in my basement while running on the treadmill (both appliances simultaneously sucking up PSEG juice blows out the power in my house), so I sweated out any and all emotions, even the negative ones. I guess that means I felt pretty good.

It also made me laugh to think back on those Grecian goats, gnawing lazily on island dwarf scrub as they ogled with analytical, aloof eyes the bikini-ed ladies gnawing even more lazily on feta-topped potatoes, occasionally lifting their slender, tanned digits out of the chlorinated basin and into the arid mountain air to signal for some hooch. 

Random fact I learned about this artist/album: Buddha (aka Ulf Gunnar Ekberg) was apparently mixed up in some neo-Nazi shit at some point.

* Full albums only; mix CDs I made don't count, though I'm sure I'll succumb to the temptation of nostalgia now and again.

** Yes, there were more.

*** What sort of publications of note does one find along the Route 110 corridor? Circa 1993-94, the B2B scriptures known as Mass Transit, Studio Photography, and Food and Beverage Marketing, among others.


Tweets and treats at @jenngidman.