Falling in (and out of) Love

I'll be the first to admit that I've never been in a romantic relationship. But I will just as proudly admit that I am a romantic. After reading my share of "young adult" novels I await to be whisked away by my "one true love." And there is that thrill. To meet someone's gaze and share a smile. Wanting to learn everything about them. But I've had these moments before. And they didn't result in a wedding proposal two hours later in typical "romantic-comedy fashion." Which is probably for the best.

Instead, I've created beautiful friendships. In matters of the heart, it's easy to focus on finding "the one." But how often do we stop and think about all the others whom we love? In our seemingly perpetual chase to be accepted and adored by our "other halves," we neglect the ones who have supported us all along. Friendships and familial love are intense. They are, after all, the basis of what we want in a partner. Their unconditional love is what reminds us that devotion and compromise are necessary in all our relationships. Just because they lack that "spark" of romance does not mean that they are lacking.

But lately, I've found myself reflecting on all those moments that made me feel butterflies. Crushing on someone is fun. It really is. You're ridiculously happy sometimes. And needlessly anxious all the other times. And for what? A quick chat during work breaks? A smile and wave on occasion? When I realize that I've put on those rose-tinted glasses again, I find myself quickly disillusioned. I have learned to smile at the nostalgia, cringe at the awkwardness, and move on.

Life would be so much simpler if we were handed everything outlined and highlighted. But it doesn't work that way. At least, not from where I'm standing. I've found that it's best to just trust that what will be will be. And that's gotten me pretty far and kept me fairly sane. Not to mention, happy. Which is the point of it all, I think. 

Leveling Up Friendships

Just to preface this blog post: I am kinda particular about things. My room and desk are not always the neatest (my parents and roommates can attest to this). But so help me if that mess is not aesthetically pleasing...somehow. Days-old paperwork will pile up, but only in a straightened pile. Clothes strewn about will only be tossed onto one designated area. Organized chaos, if you will. Also, if I'm writing something down - in my planner, class notes, or blog entry ;) - there better be uniformity all throughout. No accidentally misplacing a "-" for a ":" or suddenly underlining a vocab term (because guess what? then I have to underline ALL of the vocab terms...) Needless to say, White-Out is one of my favorite things. Unless I didn't write on white paper. Then I just need to start all over again.

With that background, it's safe to say that I like putting things in their place. Defining things, if you prefer. Applying this slightly obsessive aspect of my personality on my social life is as (if not more) convoluted as it seems. Coming from a "gamer" family, my approach to relationships comes down to earning those friendship points and experiencing "special heart events." Becoming friends and maintaining that relationship is as simple as saying hello often and making time for those deep conversations. (The more realistic equivalent to giving a necklace you found in that mine in Harvest Moon)

There are roughly 6 stages of a friendship that I have observed:
1) The "I will acknowledge your presence with a wave or a smile"
2) The "I will say 'hi (insert name if I remember it)' when I see you"
3) The friendly conversation
4) The deep conversation or much needed emotional release
5) The first hug
6) The enthusiastic greeting that is accompanied by a hug  (because now obviously hugging is okay)

After gaining enough experience points to level up through these "heart events", I am  more than comfortable with these friends. It's spectacular. It's as if suddenly, you've unlocked the ability to see someone's full beauty. Really love them for themselves.There are no more reasons to obscure true personalities or whimsies. And that wonderful vulnerability is mutual. Knowing that you can be completely open with someone else is fantastically relieving. No longer do you have to censor or hide parts of yourself.

The worst part about both gaming and life is that sometimes you don't get the "best ending." Your efforts weren't good enough, so you don't get to see an experience's full potential. Whenever I meet someone new, it's interesting to see how our storylines play out. Are we main characters together, or forever meant to be walk-on roles?

Unlike video games, life doesn't give you multiple save files or the ability to pause or start over. This is the one shot we got. So strive for those "best endings." The most rewarding friends and relationships that you may ever have might just be one hug short.

October Showers Bring November Snowflakes?

Here on campus, the change in seasons is obvious from the change in student apparel. Equipped with a classic "Fall Sweater" (preferably knitted), any variety of boots, and an umbrella (because you really never know) we experience brisk mornings, hot afternoons, and freezing evenings. Every morning is a gamble - Is today the day that I believe my computer's weather app? What if it's actually accurate? - usually resulting in wearing way too many layers of clothing.

Thankfully, I live with three other roommates this year whose fashion advice I hold in high regard. The morning is spent walking back and forth checking and double checking the weather. By the time I've actually picked out an outfit, they're usually dressed and I then assess my choices. If 2 or more of them are wearing shorts or skirts, I'm probably overdressed. If it's just the one who notoriously likes cooler temperatures, I'm sticking to my oversized sweater and jeans. It's a beautiful relationship.

The most captivating thing about Autumn (the fancier way of addressing "Fall"), is the gradual change of leaf colors. Suddenly green is "so last season" (badum tscche - get it?) and reds, oranges, and yellows are all the rage. But after taking biology in high school, I can't help but feel a little sad. When leaves aren't green, the little chloroplasts of plants aren't absorbing light as efficiently and the nerd in me gets a little worried. But then I remember good ol' Darwin and his theory. Also, that this happens Every. Year. Over and over. Then I feel a little better. (It's just like the story of Sleeping Beauty - pshh, the trees are still alive, they're just "asleep")

For those of you who don't see Fall as being as traumatic as I do, it's a time for Pumpkin Spiced lattes (or so I'm told), hot apple cider, and picking out Halloween costumes. It's a great little in between season where you're not sweating continuously or uncontrollably shivering. That is, unless you overestimated how hot/cold it really is. 60 degrees is suddenly the all around signal for knit sweaters during the Fall, but in the Spring, we celebrate 50 degrees with shorts. So yes, temperature is often all relative. Unless you're sitting in a two and a half hour long class shivering in your flip flops because central heating is delayed until November. But, hey! That's a lesson learned, eh? Don't take any more two and a half hour long classes. Problem solved.

So leaves changing colors, hot drinks, lots of sweaters - that's all pretty standard. What I never can remember (without fail, it's really kinda sad) is that Fall is a rainy season. And yeah, a little drizzle isn't bad. But thunderstorms that threaten to flip your umbrella inside-out, that's just too much. If you happen to disbelieve your usually untrustworthy weather app and don't bring an umbrella you've got quite the water-slide rollercoaster ahead of you. Just like say, Splash Mountain, you begin the day dry and excited. But as soon as you step outside, you immediately think, "Wow. There is so much more water than I thought there would be." Your classes become the respite between the torrential downpour. Unfortunately, the hour that you've been sitting there drying off is useless because you've gotta get out there and get to your next class!

As a poorly sighted individual, I'm typically wearing glasses. This means that when it's raining and I am left without an umbrella I am staring straight at the ground. Don't wanna get my glasses wet and further impair myself! Unfortunately, this limits my already limited field of vision. Since it's raining everywhere and not from one solitary raincloud above my head, everyone is walking around like this. That's a whole campus-full of people hurrying to get to class with their eyes on the ground. It's basically like an unchoreographed, non-musical interpretative dance with an odd resemblance to a pinball machine. Because people bump into each other. If you didn't get that metaphor.

Anyways, rest uneasily because with Winter around the corner (it's always around the corner when you live in the Midwest) the same behavior is displayed. Raindrops evolve into Snowflakes and what's better at obstructing our sight than umbrellas and staring at the ground? Oversized (faux)fur-lined hoods on our Winter coats and scarves wrapped 3x 'round covering our entire faces. So good luck with not bumping into others during these deceptively festive months, everyone!

A New Look, Still the Same (Introspective) Me

A month ago I made the executive decision that it was time for a change. The summer had brought with it a revelation about who I was and how I wanted my life to be. At the same time, my hair was growing too long for my liking - and go ahead and psychoanalyze this - so I decided to change both my external and internal perspectives. 2 birds. 1 stone.

After days and days of research and scouring the internet and friends for guidance, I decided that I wanted to get my hair style to be a "pixie cut". To me, hair will grow back and a month of embarrassment is worth the experience. I'd never been "brave" enough to get one, and hey, college is the time for trying new things, right? Going to the salon that day was exciting. I'd gone in with shoulder-length hair and left with a whole new persona.

The reaction from others was immediate. Suddenly I was more visible. Barely acquainted with my own reflection, my family and I left the salon and ran the rest of the day's errands. Nearly every store aisle held glances in my direction. "They must know." I thought. "They must know that I feel like a stranger in my own body." In hindsight, they might have been looking for the baked beans behind me, or my constant contact with my short hair distracted them. I've found that people rarely care as much about your appearance as you think they do.

A week passed and I got used to the new routine. 1) Wake up with my hair sticking up in different directions. 2) Wash hair via showering or using the sink. 3) Blow dry hair and style until socially acceptable.

Once I was comfortable with myself again and no longer self-conscious, I carried on with preparing for my move-in back on campus. I kept bracing myself for the inevitable assumption about my gender or sexual orientation. The YouTube videos and blog entries I'd read had warned me that it was "only a matter of time" and that these stereotypes were "part of having a pixie cut". I wasn't that worried. I knew who I was and refused to let others define me.

I thought I was prepared for the reaction I would receive on campus. But I was not. Instead of rude remarks or intrusive speculation about my reasons for my new look I was complimented. Friends and family were really supportive and found the hairstyle complementary to my appearance and personality.

As an anthropology major, I found this entire experience to be an interesting social experiment. Being a generally friendly person, I've always been intrigued by the response I get from smiling at strangers. Since my haircut, I noticed that acquaintances and strangers found it appropriate to comment on my outward appearance. Those who knew me during the awkward Middle School years know that I am not used to this kind of attention. Is there something about a pixie cut that makes me more approachable or seemingly more stylish?

In a predominantly heterosexual and patriarchal society, I shouldn't have been surprised to be receiving more unwanted male attention. But I was. I'm not sure that one can really prepare for the assumption that any effort to look fashionable and "well put together" is for the viewing pleasure of the opposite sex. After living on a city campus for a year, I am well versed in distinguishing between a compliment and harassment. Mainly, the first does not make you feel uncomfortable. Praise is focused on the recipient. Street harassment is only about the person who objectifies others. Their judgments. Their dominance. Their enjoyment.

The same words heard from a friend became perverted and distorted by dishonorable intentions. In that moment, I was not in control. Suddenly, my choices and thoughts about myself were misconstrued as being for the sole pleasure and approval of some stranger. I questioned my attire and what my physical appearance communicated to others. What about me made it okay for that man to look at me that way? The answer is simple: Nothing. It was not okay. And it shouldn't ever be considered okay.

Having had this misfortune happen to me only a handful of times, I grow outraged for the women who suffer these circumstances daily. It's easy to marginalize the recipients of catcalls and unwanted attention as men and women who were "asking for it" or "enjoyed the attention". The majority of you who are reading this post know me and with absolute confidence I can tell you that street harassment is not taken as a compliment. It is demeaning and objectifying.

I urge anyone reading this post to understand how common and repulsive street harassment is. Only by unifying against this objectification of others (women especially) will our society continue toward true gender equality. *gets off of soapbox* Thanks for listening, everyone.

Lost in the Summer Blur

Summer is many things. It is sleeping in. Enjoying sunlight and ice cream until 8 o'clock in the evening. Seeing old friends and missing some you've lost touch with. Catching up with family. Reading books for fun until 3 o'clock in the morning. Alternatively, staring at my phone scrolling through Pinterest until 3 o'clock in the morning. In this haze of 80 degree weather, time is split between well-mannered frivolity and laziness. Something about the beautiful weather and lack of commitments lies the perfect breeding grounds for procrastination and stagnation.

Often seen as a chance to refuel and disengage from the hectic demands of the academic year, I feel that Summer is commonly treated as a delusion. A pleasant one. But I see the promise of a 3 month long vacation as a candy-encrusted path to a black hole. Suddenly 2 out of the 3 months have slipped away and I find myself ordering textbooks and buying school supplies in a rush! Not to mention that the monies I worked so hard to earn during the school year have dwindled to nothing thanks to paying off loans and impromptu shopping sprees. Never before have I been so excited to get back to my work study job.

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So those lines above are there to represent how long it took me to get back to writing this post. The sun rose and set as the days passed by to really prove my point. (okay, I exaggerate - it's actually only been 2 days) After I renewed my inspiration to write this, I was frustrated with the absence of my muse. Asking why some sentences flow faster than others assumes that creativity is this vessel you can access on command. But that's not how this works. It's more like sunlight. Constantly present, but not always visible or appreciated. We've all had our cloudy days and seemingly endless nights. Despite this, I'm really trying to keep writing - if for my sake only. For now, I'm only really sure that I'm the only one reading this blog (if you're there, friends, please leave a comment!). And that's fine - being satisfied with sifting through my thoughts alone and all that. :)

Speaking of being left alone to ponder life - Summer is the prime time for deep thoughts and conversations. (nice segue back to the main topic, I know ;) ) Especially after leaving for college in the city, the return to my small town home is painted with a new palette of experiences. The difference between "knowing" that there is more to the world and actually having that fact resonate with you is a subtle, but important one. And I know that there's still so much I don't know. I'm only 19. Of course I'm barely scratching the surface on what life has to offer. But being cognizant of my travels through this blog and journal entries (it's a diary if I'm being honest, haha) helps process through the day to day.

Daily happenings don't seem to account for much in the "grand scheme of things", but in actuality, they do. Your today shapes your tomorrow. And every yesterday used to be your today. So "carpe diem"! (Whoo Latin!) Here's hoping I take my own advice.

Hidden Talents: Observations from the Microwave

At the beginning of the school year, you couldn't walk down the hallway of my dorm without saying hello to at least 10 different people whom you made awkward eye-contact with on your way to the water fountains. During the 28 steps from my room (yes, I've counted) I could see into a lot of rooms because during the last hurrah of summer, everyone had their doors open. For, y'know, air circulation. We were also all in that stage of "some of the people I meet here are gonna be some of my closest friends" because we'd all watched Friends and How I Met Your Mother - and where did they meet? oh yeah, in college. The possibilities were endless. "Is it you? Or you?" Having your door closed was never an option. What if you met your new best friends when they saunter into your life through that very threshold? Too risky to slam the door on that opportunity. (Was that pun too painful? Did you even get it? *sigh*)

And every orientation activity, floor meeting, and retreat had the same, "Name, Hobby, Favorite Color, 2 truths and 1 lie" kind of deal. (To help along this frenzy of friendliness) As a result of these games, you tend to remember people by what you first associated them with. "Nicole, Nutella" for example. Yes, the premise of the game was to say your name and a food that you liked which began with the same..oh, you get it. (Nutella is delicious though) Despite the knee-jerk-reaction of "Hey, there's Phil -Peaches" you start to gain a familiarity with the campus.

After the campus has calmed down from the surge in its population thanks to the freshmen class, everything reaches a nice...lull. Now, don't get me wrong - monotony is nice. In a sort of "too numb to mind" kind of way. I'm only kidding. Routine brings a steady rhythm to our generally busy lives and being certain that waking up at 8:45 leaves the perfect amount of time to get to my 9:20 class is a beautiful thing.

As everyone settles into their lives on campus, however, unless you befriended someone, you start to lose track of acquaintances. Typical case of "making the world a little bit smaller". While the initial reaction might be one of isolationism and unfriendliness, that's not the case. I think people are just as friendly. They're just also more comfortable. The residence hall transforms from where you sleep to a type of home. Which I think is lovely, actually.

When this shift happened, I found myself to be discovering all sorts of beautiful surprises. Walking into the building to someone playing the piano. Smelling freshly baked cookies wafting up the staircase. Being offered said cookies (they were delicious). Watching some scenes of The Fight Club as I wait for my ramen to finish cooking. Having a flute practice accompany my late night cuppa tea. When people feel relaxed enough to let strangers in to see their sparks of brilliance, vulnerability becomes mutual. The amateur pianist, stress baker, action film junkie, and night owl musician share with their temporary audience a sense of awe. The shared space becomes an inspiration. A testament to all that led to this fragment in time.

Reflecting on these moments, these flashes of creativity and expression are truly what we live for. As individuals, we each have talents and interests that we choose to pursue. And the fact that I was able to share - for a moment - experiences that encapsulate another's passion is something to be grateful for. I think that finding a love for something that resonates with your soul is fundamental to the human existence - but sharing that love is a precious gift.

And although the moments must end and strangers sometimes stay strangers, we never quite forget those sparks of brilliance we've shared.

Fellowship of the Lanyards

Out of all the things that are different from high school that serve to separate the freshmen out of the well-versed student body like M&M's in a bowl of skittles-nearly the same at a quick glance, with just that odd sense that "something" is not..quite..right- the lanyards that they give you that very first day of Orientation are what give you away. "Well, this is great!", you think to yourself. "What a clever way to keep my ID, keys, and show school spirit!"

And for that first week, you're learning all the tricks, how to twirl the lanyard so that it so tenderly wraps around your hand without getting your face smacked by your keys, how to fold the fabric "just so" which forms a compact bundle capable of fitting in every pocket- the exception of some skinny jeans, but hey, that's what backpacks are for anyways! In that cozy bubble made up entirely of "young adults" and their carefully selected orientation leaders, everything is fine and dandy: the sun is out, it's still technically summer-so no homework!- and everyday you learn a new secret tradition.

Soon, you realize that the little fish bowl you're in is nonexistent and that the other (older, much taller) "fish" who start to move back in are here to stay. And you are encroaching on their territory. But, I digress, it isn't nearly that thrilling. But at 5 feet, running into members of the basketball team is actually a daily hazard to my life since both parties are caught unawares. For anything above 5'10", I'm just not visible in their line of sight, which results in the assumption that I'm not there. From my perspective, I'm just walking - with my headphones in...just jamming - and all of the sudden, there is a body approaching whose eyes don't even register my presence. Collisions and apologies ensue.

Granted, I'm not the most observant person, but what makes these accidents all the worse is the disorientation they produce. All of the sudden, I'm facing a different direction and in my efforts to get away from the long line of athletes to avoid further casualties, I've taken several strides off my automated trajectory. I find myself trying to command the figurative battleship on manual. Which- let me just save you the suspense- isn't easy. Thankfully, the figurative lifeboats come with flares...in the form of that lanyard. Yes. Recognizing that I have that bright, spirited piece of fabric which waves to upperclassmen like a white flag of surrender, a former orientation leader comes to my rescue.

Having arrived at my destination safely, the same drone of "Name, Year, Hometown" rings through each classroom. What comes unexpectedly, however, is the kind inquiry of "Are you a freshman?" and the obligatory agreement - what? I'm not a liar! - which leads to a puzzling aftermath. You see, the confidence that exudes from upperclassmen makes one wonder just what tipped them off.

It only takes a couple of weeks to figure it out though: it's the lanyard. As freshmen, most of us haven't figured out how long it takes to get adequately ready and dressed for the day (so we appear presentable to society), so we leave the dorm with our backpacks thrown on. And those friendly lanyards wave at every passerby from their position in our pants' back-pocket.

Moral of this long and somewhat pointless anecdote: Beware the power of the lanyard. It's like the "One True Ring"; in many ways useful, but carelessly leaving it on your person can draw unwanted attention.