New Year, New Names

I like to coin terms for areas on campus, professors, and even students Here are a few examples.

There is a spot on campus in the shape of a square with a bench on each side where smokes congregate. This is officially known (by me) as the Four Corners of Cancer.

Our one building is called the Cub, which is an abbreviation of the founder’s name. Outside there is a huge amphitheater that is basically in a valley in the center of campus. I call this Cub Canyon.

Also, I have decided to call every freshman I meet a Freshie Fresh. I got this idea from my roommate and the freshman seem to like their new nicknames.



Back Home (Meaning School)


I’m finally back at college! Yesterday I arrived and got my room all set up and personalized again. I broke only two poster frames in the process…oops. But, all is well. My roommate should be coming back today and I got to reconnect with so many amazing people that I missed over the summer.

For Welcome Week our school does a ton of awesome activities so you can meet people and have fun. Last night I played Bingo with a few friends from 10:00 P.M. to 2:00 A.M. It was exhausting, yet entertaining. It’s the second year in a row where I didn’t win anything, but I did get bacon, so it all works out.

Today they had the annual activities fair so students can learn about all the clubs and groups on campus. I’ve been wanting to sign up for the Farm Club since I discovered it existed last year. Unfortunately, being a freshman I was too nervous to do anything about it. Here are my reasons for wanting to sign up for this amazing club:

1. I love the environment and want to everything I can to help it thrive.

2. I would feel like I accomplished something useful (food is donated to charities)

3. There are gorgeous hippie guys who run the club who wear flannel and sport ponytails and beards.

4. It would get me outside more often.

5. I could be around plants all the time!

Today, as I walked down the long aisle of booths and posters–that took up our entire main street–I spotted the Farm Club station. I panicked immediately, checked out who was manning the table, and casually walked by. I did some serious inner pep talk and convinced myself that all I need to do is sign the paper. After perusing the other tables, I came back very slowly to the Farm Club table. I intently looked at their poster hoping the adorable guy running the table would start the conversation. Luckily, I think he got the message and said hi to me. Inside I was freaking out, but on the outside I acted cool as could be. I asked him what his club does. He explained all the details and I told him with confidence: “I would definitely like to sign up for this!” I found the sheet and noticed I would be the first to sign up. He handed me a pen and kept telling me more factoids about the club. He said that the club is relatively new and they’re getting new members, so it should be growing. I laughed and said, “Ah, nice. Get it? Farm club…growing.” He chuckled a little. And, I couldn’t tell if he thought I was crazy or if he actually found me a little charming. I gave him a coy smile and apologized for my terrible joke. He smiled, looked at me and said, “It’s alright. And, yes, I feel we’re just about to bloom.” And if we had been texting rather than conversing in person, that sentence would definitely have been ended with a winking face.

Long story short, I’m proud that I was able to finally sign up for it even though I was terrified. And, I don’t think I totally embarrassed myself in front of one of the members. All is well.

Here’s to a great sophomore year!

(Also I wanted to include that my posts will be much less frequent once classes begins because, well, I need to maintain that 4.0 GPA. I will try to make time for my writing though.)

For When You Think That No One Will Love You

This is so painfully true…

Thought Catalog

You can never quite remember the actual moments when someone says that they love you for the first time. You wait for it so long, practice how you will respond, prevent yourself from saying it before them (you wouldn’t want to look desperate), and then it happens, and it’s like you go temporarily deaf. There is a ringing, like a TV show that has cut off to go to an emergency announcement. This is an emergency announcement. And you can’t even hear it. It’s almost like your brain doesn’t want to process these words, because then you’d have to acknowledge them, and not just in your imagination.

Besides, everyone who has ever said that to you before has left, so you might as well not even listen.

“I love you” will mean nights staying up watching someone sleep next to you, wondering why they haven’t left you already, wondering when…

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Every day I try…

Every day I try to step out of my comfort zone. Even in the smallest of ways. If I stay safe I will never progress. We all know that there is no reward without the risk. I step into the sunshine with a smile, facing people with gloomy outlooks. I make an effort every single day. I try to keep moving, especially when it hurts the most to do so. Without a positive attitude and the determination to go on, my life would cease to matter. I want to reach out, help others, dance until every worry melts away, love passionately, cry for the sake of release, and dare to do the unexpected. I want to enjoy and bask in the simple pleasures of life. The cool, green grass on a sweltering day. The breeze of spring wafting the smells of wildflowers. The laugh of an old friend that has become an endangered species. The passing of time. And the feeling of being perfectly content. In short, I want to live. Will you join me?

Hey, I put some new shoes on!

I bought a new pair of shoes yesterday! But, before I go into that more I had to share this link to the song “New Shoes” by Paolo Nutini. It’s super appropriate for this occasion and if it doesn’t make you feel like you can take the world head-on, then I don’t know what will.

Now back to my main point: my new shoes. After wearing an old pair of turquoise random brand shoes from Target (that were looking more tan than bluish these days) I decided I should invest in a new pair of soles for the upcoming school year. Here they are, with the old ones as a comparison:


I went to the Journey’s store in my local mall in search of shoes that I could wear on campus without a) tripping b) hating my feet with every step and c) them wearing out too quickly. I immediately saw this pair of maroon Vans and thought that they were the ones. My mother, always the cautious one, had me try on about ten pairs I wasn’t as interested in. And like fate, the only other shoes that they had my exact size in their stock was the maroon beauties! It was meant to be, I was sure. So, I gave my mom a coy smile and told the sales clerk, “These are the winners.” 


Before I had the blue shoes I had a matching pair of grey ones that I wore so often and hard that when I was finally forced to throw them out, they had 50% of the original soles in tact. I have fond memories of walking through campus either at 12:00 a.m. or after a recent shower and feeling the luscious, damp grass on my bare feet. I purposely didn’t wear socks with these shoes because I wanted to feel the earth wherever I went. I plan on wearing the turquoise ones until they are in this shape, but for when I need shoes that will actually protect my feet I now have a lovely new pair. I’ll miss the blue ones when they have to go; we’ve been through a lot together. But, new beginnings help to ease the pain of losing a close friend: the pair of shoes that were there for every triumph and setback in my first year of college.


Farewell, old friends!

Yay, More Poetry!


The sandbox we shared as children was made of pine wood.

It was roughly four feet on each side,

Smooth, and filled with tan granules for our imagination to contort.

We spent thirteen years playing there,


Mapping out tiny towns,

Expansive landscapes,

And get-away cities.

Our little hands carefully poised to build the future,

Chafing and bright red from the friction.

We created beauty,

And found pleasure in destroying it.

We were never happier than during those sunny days,

Under the elm tree,

Practicing our amateur architecture.


Then we grew up.

We were too old to construct our sandy, fairy tale worlds;

Reality impatiently awaited us.

That special box was taken from us,

Offering up fuel for a fire,

Leaving only memories behind.

And, as time passed you made mistakes,

The kinds you’re warned about daily;

The kinds that change lives forever.

Now your walls are no longer made from soft, white pine.

You’re embraced by cold iron,

Kissed by coarse cement.