Wish You Were Here

No. 97

“Look, furthermore, my anguish as I call it arises from the fact that people have changed so much, not only in the past five years, for God’s sake, or the past ten years…but in the past thirty years to such an extent that I don’t recognize them as people any more or recognize myself as a real member of something called the human race.” Jack Kerouac, Vanity of Duluoz

Graduation morning, with Gilman Hall in the background.

As Hopkins students, potential Hopkins students – even just as thinking people – our instinct is always to rationalize. What is going on right now? Where are we going? Why? What will we do when we get there? What will we get out of it?

These past four years have taught me lots of practical, academic things to satisfy all of those cravings. Even this blog has taught me to make sense of and tell stories about my life – good, bad. So yes, as you can imagine from Hopkins’ reputation, I learned a lot. But as I went into my last blog entry ever…I had no idea what to leave you with.

But I think I might not have to try so hard. Because the last four years have taught me, more importantly, to give up this logical nonsense and enjoy our greatest talent as people: being. Not just plain bump-on-a-log being, but whole-hearted, intense, adventurous and sensitive being. Being open to everything: sights, sounds, smells, risks, uncertainties, newness, hard work, learning, love, pain. Forgetting about the anxiety of change or the instinct to classify this experience as this, that person as that. I’ve learned not to be afraid of that uncertainty that Kerouac had to be feeling when he wrote those words up there, of not being able to understand what people are thinking or feeling or doing or wanting around you – and not being able to understand what you are feeling or wanting either. It’s scary to change and to feel everyone/everything changing around you, but it sure is freeing not to have to pin things down all the time.

Best friends on the Upper Quad after graduation.

Digression: I recently saw Midnight in Paris, the new Woody Allen movie in theaters. Without giving anything away, the moral of the story is pulling yourself out of nostalgic visions of the past and living fully, passionately, productively in the present. It’s not about seeing the whole picture and wishing you could be somewhere else more perfect than now: it’s about being in the now and embracing the snapshot you have of it. I know it’s tempting to put yourself in the past because it’s familiar, secure, easy to understand. For some reason, last night it was a simple little tradition that overwhelmed me: standing in Wolman Hall 504′s little kitchenette with my freshman year roommate and some friends, holding marshmallows on the tips of knives and forks and roasting them over the coils of our electric stove. It seemed like the golden age – we were so young, so happy. Everything seemed so good and felt so new.

And when you get out there on your own, you start to ask yourself: what will my traditions be? What will I leave behind? What little things will people remember about me when the plain stuff – hair color, apartment, perfume – falls away? What will my legacy be? Mine is that of a storyteller. I’m the one who always has her camera out, whether we’re doing something remarkable or not. I see life in a movie frame. I’m the hippie. I take risks and I’m probably a little embarrassing. I’m creative. I know too much about pop culture and trashy TV. I love an adventure. I procrastinate intensely and I really love chicken fingers.

Here's a tradition for you: "If you step on the seal, you won't graduate!" The night before graduation, Elizabeth, Adam, Kayla and I proved that this is a lie.

But none of that matters now. Now, I’m just a college grad who is twirling her hair because she is sleepy and dreaming of getting the job I interviewed for last week. And who will I be if I get it? The truth is, I don’t know where I’m going. I know bits and pieces of where I’d like to see myself in a month or in five, ten, fifteen years, but who knows what things I’ll do on my way. What will the future hold? The only thing I can guarantee, after all this rambling, is this: with every moment, I am going to be being 100%.

“What could be worse than getting to the end of your life and realizing you hadn’t lived it?” Edward Albee

Throughout high school and college, I’ve been constantly waiting for that time when I could do. When I could take all this education, and all these dreams, and all these ideas, and all this determination, and actually be what I’ve always wanted to be, or do the things I’ve always wanted to do. That time is now – and that waiting around for “life to begin,” as they say, ended when we threw our graduation caps high into the air.

And so we find ourselves, at the end of the road. Thank you, first, to Admissions_Mark, who read my application from New Jersey and admitted me to Hopkins. I don’t know what you were thinking, but I’m really glad you woke up on the right side of the bed that morning and gave me this incredible chance to do something extraordinary.

Next, to Michael Bloomberg. Thank you for being smart, generous, choosing to attend Hopkins as an undergrad, and having a lot of money. Without you and your scholarship, I definitely could not have gone to Hopkins at all. I hope I do many things in the future to make your investment worth it. If I have any say in things, I know I will.

Then, my parents. Thank you, first, for encouraging me to go to school in Baltimore, all alone two hours away from home. Thank you for not letting me come home during my first semester when I was miserably homesick. Thank you for putting up with my constant stubbornness. Thank you for buying me so many Beanie Babies, Pokemon cards, notebooks, NSync posters, and paperweights. Thank you for your hugs, your kisses, and your really tasty dinners. Dad, thank you for your clear skin, thirst for learning, and appreciation for art, history, and antique cars. Mom, thank you for sharing my love of board games and music, your optimism, and your (mostly) non-judgmental ear to listen whenever I need it. Thank you both for somehow making me believe I actually can do anything I set my mind to. And, though this is a little weird, thank you for my being an only child. Because Ashlee, Courtney, and I are all only children, we often wonder what we would’ve been like if we had brothers and sisters. We know we would be different – but sometimes we wondered, were we better or worse off being alone? I tend to think better. The truth is…sometimes I’m selfish. I wouldn’t want to share you with siblings. I want your attention, your pride, your love, your support, your concern, your encouragement. I don’t know what I would be without it and I appreciate it all more than you will ever know.

Mom and Dad on the freshman quad after graduation.

Thanks Admissions_Daniel, Roxi, Julia, and the rest of Hopkins Interactive 2007′s interview committee for allowing me to jump on board. To have had a hand in leaving Johns Hopkins with intelligent, motivated, excited students was so fun. And to have a virtual record of my four years in college on this blog is such a blessing.

Thank you, my readers. I’ve had close friends at Hopkins – juniors, sophomores, freshmen – who sheepishly admit years later they read my blog as prospective students. I’ll tell you a secret: as embarrassing as that is, I am so glad. I could’ve kept my own blog for myself I guess, but I never would have written it in such a clear, candid, introspective way if it wasn’t for an audience of prospective students and families out there. It’s been a pleasure to know you’re there and write for you for all these years. I’ll miss it. (And here, a shoutout to Mrs. Barnett, another loyal reader – though not a prospective student – and most likely my biggest fan who is not immediate family.)

Thanks, finally, to my friends. Thank you for making me feel valued and important. Thank you for making me realize that Hopkins really was my home – I just needed to work a little harder to turn an unfamiliar place into one. Thank you for being there with hugs, movies, and cookies when I needed you most. Thank you for smiling in the thousands of photos I took at college (Total posted on Facebook as of June 15^th: 5,268. I’m so sorry). Thank you, finally, for giving me stories to write about here every week. Some of my blogs were about solo adventures but, mostly, my blog has been about being able to build a family anywhere. I met exceptional people in my four years at Hopkins, and I am so happy to have them in my life forever.

HELLO, PJS. Where else would we celebrate being adults?

It’s hard to believe four years have come and gone at all. It’s weird to talk about it in the past tense now – “I met exceptional people,” “Hopkins was my home” – but it is just that. Hopkins is done. I will bleed blue jay blue until I die, but it’s not my place anymore. A new set of undergrads will take it over, make it their own, have adventures and make mistakes and study too much and stress over boys/jobs/money/Friday night plans, just like we did. But we’ll always feel like we were there first. Class of 2011 – my family. I salute you. And I’m beyond excited to continue trailblazing with you in our many grownup years ahead.

I usually sign my blogs with “Wish you were here,” but this is one instance when I don’t wish you were here. I wish you will end up there – your own home for four years, Hopkins or not, where you will establish yourself, challenge yourself, and learn more than you could have ever imagined about what it means not to know, but to live. I can only wish you good luck and tell you – coming out of all that and taking on the real world? It feels pretty damn good.

The End of the Line

Greetings from my last day of college classes ever! I’ve been preparing for this moment all semester (and preparing you for this moment all semester with my blog entries about it) but, now that it is finally here, I’m surprised to be noticing some strange things.

My last day of school outfit, paying homage to years of elementary school first-day-of-school florals.

1) My melancholy. Ok, I expected this one. The last day of college classes comes with the same relief as every other year – you’re done, you’ve made it, and you did it all without growing (too many) grey hairs over the course of the semester. But this particular year comes also with the realization that all of those things you would normally start to look forward to around the middle of June – coming back in August to your friends, learning in a classroom setting, reading under the trees on the Lower Quad, this gorgeous campus on a late summer day – won’t be part of your life anymore. Come September, I’ll be somewhere new, doing something different, daydreaming about my friends who still get more time here. With any luck, I’ll be doing something so exciting with my life that I won’t even notice…that much, anyway.

2) WHEN DOES LEVERING FOOD COURT CLOSE FOR THE YEAR AND HOW MANY MORE DAYS DO I HAVE TO ENJOY THEIR GLORIOUS CHICKEN FINGERS? (My Levering lunch crew knows I nearly literally get those chicken fingers every single day. I’m not entirely sure what I’ll do without them.)

3) I always thought my biggest pet peeve was people running to class. (If you’re almost late, congrats – you’re not late yet, so just walk faster. If you’re already late, what’s another minute? Slow down, crazy.) But my actual pet peeve? People running to class on the last day of classes. Everyone (besides you) is a big, fuzzy ball of love on the last day of classes. Professors who are normally harsh will come in bearing food, candy, or at the very least a smile. I promise you your professor will not mind if you’re a half minute late today.

Me and Bridget during our Cinco de Mayo/end of semester celebrations last night.

4) This sounds nuts, but I’m actually a little underwhelmed that my last class of my college career will be A) a philosophy section (a.k.a. a class out of neither of my majors), and B) only 50 minutes long. If I had the choice, I’d go for a whopper of a film theory class to finish out with. Although it seems to follow suit: my first class at Hopkins was a 50-minute Occidental Civilization history lecture on the Medieval World. This also belongs to neither of my majors and, honestly, I remember about 4% of the things I learned while in it. But alas, tis the way thy cookie doth crumble.

5) It’s a beautiful, beautiful day. Thanks, Mother Nature, for getting the last day of classes memo and helping a girl out.

—

I’m thinking about a lot of other things too, but they’re mostly just mushy nostalgic tidbits that I will try to push out of my mind until I actually have to deal with them after graduation. (Denial is the first step in any big life change, no?) But until then, I am going to enjoy my last day of school with my friends and my floral dress, with my zealous classmates and my chicken fingers. And it’s going to be great.

My Collegiate Playlist

As we near closer and closer to the dreaded May 26th (that’s graduation day, folks), I can’t help but reminisce with friends – and within my own self – about my four years here at Hopkins. It’s funny, but sometimes all it takes is a few notes of a familiar song to take me right back to the basement of Pike freshman year, sitting in Nolans eating dinner sophomore year, riding the bus junior year or talking to a certain someone senior year. Though it doesn’t feel as if I ever could, I worry I’ll forget all of these memories – some fun, some sad, some scandalous, and some too rich for words. These people, these places…they’re a part of me. Like I said a couple posts back, if I had gone anywhere else, I would be someone else. And the fact that I am 100% comfortable with where I am, who I am, and what I’ve done with my life so far is such a luxury.

So, to try to let you into my memory as much as you possibly can, I’ve put together some playlists. Each one reminds me of a different era of school at Hopkins, from freshman up until this very year. I highly recommend making playlists of your favorite songs each semester – I actually have a “Fall,” “Spring,” and “Summer” playlist for each year since 2007, and it can be such a time machine to let one play. For better or for worse, these songs will always remind me of the people, the places, the emotions…they’re memories in themselves. And with college flying by so fast, you’ll want as many of those as possible.

Freshman Year

Me, my freshman year roomie Kathleen, and Megan in Fall 2007; me and Naomi at The Greene Turtle in Spring 2008

Sophomore Year

Josh and me at a party during our sophomore fall; breaking crabs at Obrycki's with Naomi and Olivia in the spring.

Junior Year

Being silly at the beginning of my junior fall; me and Mike before Sig Ep Spring Formal 2010.

Senior Year

A montage of my senior fall!

And now it’s senior spring. As I went through this entry, I found it harder and harder to choose photos to accurately sum up my fall and spring semesters. So many more things are happening and so many more people are becoming part of my life that I can’t possibly choose one photo to represent all of that. The fact that my college experience is only getting better with time makes me even more sad that it’s ending so soon – but, with these memories in my albums, iTunes, and mind, I can’t help but be excited about what the next four years will bring too.

the time of my life

For the last couple of weeks, all of the Hopkins Interactive bloggers have been writing on a common theme:  our thoughts and reflections on the college application process.  We’ve all been exactly where you are now and hope that sharing our experiences will help you through this momentous (but challenging!) time in your life. This post is part 2 of 2 I’ll be writing on the topic. (Read part 1 here.)

I was going to write another entry with advice to all of you who are approaching that intimidating college application deadline – something useful to remember when asking for recommendations, what to look for on college visits, tips to finish up (or start, if you procrastinate like I do) that application essay. But when I sat down to write it…I realized that I had no idea what to say because, somehow, I have become very, very old.

Class of 2007!

It’s been a long time since I’ve been in high school, or since I applied to college, or even since I set foot on the Hopkins campus for my first day of freshman year. I’ve come a long way from the high school senior who got lost trying to show her parents the Rec Center the day after her overnight stay. I’m a college senior now – and I know Hopkins so well that I can walk blindly around campus from class to work to lunch to meetings, so preoccupied with other things that I let my subconscious senses take over. I don’t get lost and I don’t go off-track. It’s just like my body knows where I’m going, after being here for so long.

Fall 2006

During the summer before my first year here, I had a hard time reminding myself I would actually have to go off to college at some point. I was nervous for the work, nervous to be in a city where I knew no one…but for some reason, my imagination always put me sleeping in my familiar bed at home, studying at my familiar dining room table, eating meals at my familiar restaurants around my hometown. It was only the middle of August when I realized these things would be entirely new – entirely replaced – when I came to school. And when I got to campus my freshman year, I really resented the older students who called Hopkins their “home.” They’d talk about how, when they went to their actual homes to visit their families, they felt like they were out of place because of how comfortable they had gotten at Hopkins. They’d talk about how easy it was to settle in and how they actually missed school when they went on break. I couldn’t imagine it – I was already counting down the days til I could go home, calling my parents and telling them I didn’t think I could make it for four whole years. I told myself “Home Sweet Hopkins” would never happen to me: home was home, and that was that. This was just temporary and wouldn’t ever compete.

Dad, me, and Mom on campus freshman year

And then all sorts of crazy things happened to my freshman self. I decorated my dorm with photos and fake flowers, I joined clubs related to my most passionate interests, I started raising my hand in classes and finding the corners of the Hut where I did my best work (and people-watching). I survived my first failing test grade in college and reveled in my first A+. I made friends – real friends, ones I didn’t feel uneasy around and ones that made me feel amazing about being myself and being here. I had my first college relationship, explored all corners of Baltimore, got my first job. And somehow, between that first emotional day on campus and this cold winter afternoon in the library…Hopkins became my home, too.

home sweet home!

So if you’re anxious about leaving home – or even if you’re just having trouble imagining yourself next year at college – remember that time is an amazing thing. How you feel, think, or behave a month from now is a total mystery. So much can happen and you can learn so much in such short amounts of time. Obviously, to settle in anywhere you have to do some work: social work, academic work, domestic work. You have to make an effort to be comfortable somewhere entirely foreign. But even when you think it’s never going to happen…trust time, and know that it will do its job to push you along to where you need to be.

And really, the fact that I did it is so satisfying. I made a home here for myself, complete with a warm apartment and a family of genuine, good-hearted friends. I didn’t think it would ever happen, and it did. It proved to me that I can make it anywhere. I can be on my own and I can make positive things happen. Looking ahead to the post-graduation chapter of my life isn’t nearly as scary when I remember this. I can do it.

Bests: Ashlee, me, and Courtney

ginger fizz

“You never seem to give yourself away completely, but of course dark-haired people are so mysterious.” – Lucien Carr

I have been a brunette for twenty years. Forgetting about the several months when I was borderline bald as a newborn and the unfortunate choices to cut my hair short in 2nd and 8th grade, my hair has also always been long. These two attributes have, somehow, always defined who I am and that quote up there {which I pulled from a book of published letters between Allen Ginsburg and Jack Kerouac}, as much as I hated to admit it, rang fairly true for me. All girls like feeling a little mysterious and I love my natural dark hair but, at the same time, it felt like it was too standard for me: it became so normal and expected that it was always holding something back. It was “me,” but “me” started to feel very, very simple.

And so, in August, I decided to throw that out the window. I still have long hair {because I believe short hair only looks good on people whose heads are the appropriate size and, if you know anything about me, you know that I think my head is rather large}, but the brown is no more. I went into the salon and demanded red hair: copper red with hints of gold and highlights of sass.

Natalie, Naomi and me in the Young Alumni tent

I felt a difference almost right away. At first, I felt like I was wearing a costume and tended to act like a much more animated version of myself. That wore away, but what remained was this new sense of place: to reference the quote, I knew there was more to me and I wanted to give it all away. I figured out I could be mysterious and still live intensely. I had a right to talk to you just as much as anyone else. I had a right to say what I thought, to do what I wanted. I had a right to laugh and smile just as wide as I wanted to, whether or not I felt like a goof for doing so. I’m not sure why it took a lightening of my hair to brighten up my outlook in that department, but I’m glad I did it. I feel lighter; I feel more creative and less judgmental. It’s like all my best qualities came to the surface and the dark ones fell away.

Roarin Twenties date party!

So now I’ll ask the question you all have to be asking too: This pertains to Hopkins how…? In truth, on the surface it doesn’t. This is a selfish post, just as dyeing my hair is an inherently selfish decision. But these life decisions that change the things you like and dislike, and the way you talk and the way you feel about the world, that even have the power to change your very value system and idea of yourself as a person… they’re what college is all about. Every day, I kick myself for waiting until the first semester of senior year to feel this way. To be honest, I was never the most motivated student you’d ever meet, but it took three years and a hair makeover for me to realize that college isn’t about getting A’s on every assignment. It’s not about how many hours you log studying. It’s not about having every single page of reading done for discussion. My professors would hate me for saying so, but it’s not. Now, as I sit here and the days are ticking away, I realize it’s not about any of that. It’s about pushing your limits and trying new things, whether you’re ready for them or not. It’s about making your own red hair attitude happen – complaining infinitely less, taking as many risks as possible, and giving 100% of yourself away to learn, experience, and grow more. I’m so grateful that I discovered this while I still had time.

Two of my absolute favorites - me with Ashlee and Courtney

At the moment, there is nothing I love more than standing out on campus at sunset with the wind blowing in my hair. In film, we call the last hour of sunlight of the day “magic hour” – just as the sun starts to set, it bathes everything in red and gold and, for a fleeting amount of time, the world looks intensely romantic. I look around to the brick buildings and feel the sun on my face, in the breeze, in between the strands of my now-magic hair. I anticipate meeting up with my friends for dinner or a campus event, depending on the day – and I feel perfect. I know I’m not, and I know my college experience isn’t either. But I feel like I am doing exactly what I should be doing and I take comfort in the fact that I go to bed every night knowing that I didn’t waste a single moment of my day. It’s hard to believe a simple change of hair color could do this for me – but I’m grateful every day that it did.

big, bad senior

As a wide-eyed college student, you hear myths about the elusive “senior year.” It moves too fast. It’s full of fun. It’s to be spent being lazy, waking up late, staying out late, soaking up every last drop of that whole “not being an adult” thing.

For some reason…mine’s not like that so far. I mean, I’m having a great time, going out with friends and enjoying the simplest college things like being at a sweaty frat party or sitting on the Upper Quad reading a book for class. But I’m also slightly overwhelmed and searching for this thing my senior friends call “free time” {they seem to have so much of it!}. The first “crazy senior” thing I’m doing is taking 6 classes – which is usually met with an open-mouthed gasp and a “WHY?!?!?!” from every senior I tell it to. But it’s due, in part, to my panic about college almost being over. I wanted to take advantage of my time left here and didn’t want to graduate feeling like I had missed something {those “somethings” this semester being playwriting and the Italian language}. I can’t really blame myself because all 6 classes are so great although, at times when I have 100 pages of reading due tomorrow, I want to try.

Books from just some of my classes!

I’m also continuing to work regularly in Admissions, the JHU Writing Center, and playing the role of a remote intern for Girls’ Life Magazine by writing pieces for the web and editing behind-the-scenes videos together for them. So far this semester, I’ve left my apartment around 8:30am every morning and usually don’t make it back until at least 10:00pm. And to top it off: I’m studying for the GRE and writing a personal statement in preparation for applying to grad school {more on that later}. I’m still an Alpha Phi sister, still a member of Film Society, still a blogger.

I’m, to put it frankly, a little exhausted.

And here I am, awake at 9:00am after only going to bed at 5:00am, writing this all down. I keep going though – the thing about Hopkins and, I think, college in general is that this all comes in waves. Sure, it’s possible to bite off more than you can chew and have to scale back. I know plenty of people who have dropped classes, quit jobs, or stepped down from leadership positions simply because they challenged themselves to juggle more and weren’t actually able to do it in the end. And I don’t think there is any shame in that whatsoever – part of this whole “college” thing is to learn how much you can handle, how far you can push yourself, and especially when to admit you just aren’t Superman.

But something I tell almost every single prospective student I encounter – because almost every single one asks the question, “Is the workload too much?” – is that rough patches pass. Even though I get a little panicked sometimes because I’m overwhelmed by exams or a busy week, I know it will calm down soon. It always does. I trust myself to have developed good time management skills over my 3  years here. I trust myself to work hard when hard work needs to be done. I trust myself to surround myself with good people to cheer me up, to know when to put the book down to actually sleep, and to not let a string of full, tiring days wear me down.

A blog about my 6 wonderful classes is in store later this week, followed by lots of fun photos from our first date party of the school year, and inevitably more musings about crunchy leaves and how much I adore hot apple cider and mustard yellow scarves on chilly days. I’m making it through by taking each day and class in segments, working as hard as I can and trying not to worry – and by very much looking forward to Thursday morning when I get to sleep in.

little red

There is a tiny little street – an alley, really – in Trenton that might be my favorite street out there right now. Better than the college-favorite street in Palo Alto with the twinkle lights strung on every tree; better than the street in the town next to mine that is so steep I still like to take it a little too fast in the car; better even than the quaint little main street in North Jersey with the gazebo and the sandwich shop I always wanted to try. This street is different.

Bound by the New Jersey Department of Environmental Protection on one side and a creepy “historic” cemetery on the other, you’d think this street – alley – would be easily forgotten. Except for one thing: it has been like a time warp for me every single week of the summer. All you have to do is walk a tiny portion and you’ll kick up crunchy leaves sitting on the pavement and against the curb. Inhale and you’ll smell the crisp bite of autumn. Look around and you’ll see spicy brick walls, warped brown wood on the old abandoned garage, sun peeking through the trees leaving welcome patches of cool shade. On this street, in 90+ degree weather, it is fall.

This isn't the street I'm talking about, but we can pretend.

Every day when I walked down this street to my internship, it filled me with grand plans – much like the plans that always pop up when autumn is on my horizons. Fall is my favorite season, no doubt about it. It’s sort of like my January, the fresh start to my year. There’s just a standard set of events that happen for me each fall. I revamp my wardrobe, going “back to school” shopping for clothes with a new style and mood. I become a writing machine, drafting brand new worlds and scribbling ideas in my many notebooks pushed along by that light, easy feeling of inspiration inside me. I dream of cold mornings warmed by cinnamon tea and my favorite scarf…and my warm new hair color (red!), the most recent addition to this list of regulars. I’m generally a happier, more light-hearted, more giddy person in the fall than I am in any other season. It just clicks with me – I like to think we go together.

See...look how happy fall makes me!

But I can’t decide exactly why I love fall so much. I feel intoxicated by the smell; the cool air, cold rain drops and the chance to wear all my favorite pieces of clothing {boots, sweaters, scarves, fun hats} thrill me; I love how the world looks warm. Maybe it’s a combo of these things. What I do know for sure though is that nothing compares to the adrenaline I get at the start of a new school year. There are just so many new things to look forward to! New classes – this year, a healthy balance of film, writing, and my own little risks like Italian and Bioethics. New digs – actually, the same apartment, but with a brand new roommate and furnishings. New friends – at the end of last year, I met a lot of new people and got closer to a lot of acquaintances, so I’m excited to build on my relationships with them, learn more, and see what each brings to my college experience. New supplies – newly sharpened Ticonderogas, organized binders, neatly copied notes. New TV, new recipes, new places to explore, new lenses {I got a new camera so even normal things are more exciting when I see them through it}, new numbers even – I turn 21 at the end of September and am already planning what is sure to be an epic birthday celebration.

Another thing I am 100% sure about is that fall has been wonderful to me in my life, with only a few exceptions.  The only thing comparable to feeling the first hints of fall is the feeling I get inside when I hear brass instruments at Christmastime. But then, it doesn’t make me feel nostalgia: it makes me think of a past I never had and a future I see naturally coming for me, full of rich velvet dresses swirling at candle-lit cocktail parties, kisses under mistletoe, and chance meetings with John Cusack at Bloomingdale’s.

I spy a Lisa Frank lunch bag and backpack!

But fall – the smell of fall reminds me of all my favorite memories. Sparkly purple puppies on my Lisa Frank backpack, carrying heavy candy in my pillowcase on Halloween, standing in the middle of a pumpkin patch and the gritty feel of the pumpkin stem between my fingers, the way our new protractors in Strawbridge Elementary School’s math classes always smelled like celery. They all come flooding back. For some reason, the start of fall assures me, deep down, that amazing things are to come. It makes me feel excited, content. It makes me feel ready.

I am so, so ready for Fall 2010 – the first semester of my senior year – and all it has to offer. I know for sure it is going to be great.

the grass is greener

“Happiness? The color of it must be spring green, impossible to describe until I see a just-hatched lizard sunning on a stone. That color, the glowing green lizard skin, repeats in every new leaf. ‘The force that through the green fuse drives the flower…’ Dylan Thomas wrote. ‘Fuse’ and ‘force’ are excellent word choices – the regenerative power of nature explodes in every week, stalk, branch. Working in the mild sun, I feel the green fuse of my body, too. Surges of energy, kaleidoscopic sunlight through the leaves, the soft breeze that makes me want to say the word “zephyr” – this mindless simplicity can be called happiness.”
– Bella Tuscany, Frances Mayes

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I was never really an environmentally-conscious person. I recycle; every once in a while I bring my own reusable shopping bags to the supermarket; I walk everywhere (ok, that one is because I don’t have a car). But I’m not living a green lifestyle and I’ll be the first to admit it: I don’t cook organic, I don’t save energy by turning off the television and unplugging things, I don’t really advocate for… anything.

This summer though, I feel like I am being forced to care about the world around me. I blame it on my job – what began as a television production internship has turned into a full on environmental overload. I look at so many tapes of footage featuring the Raritan River, interviews with people about saving the river from the pollution and development it has already endured, interviews with other people about the effects of chemicals and industry on the environment, interviews with still other people about why rivers are so important to American culture. At this point, I love rivers. And I hate toxins, carcinogens, chemicals…and housing developments. Though I wasn’t too fond of those things before anyway.

Mike the cameraman, filming at a farm

Same goes for finally becoming conscious of organic markets, the personal stories of local farmers, and the importance of eating healthy, locally-grown food. To be honest, I always saw the organic/locally-grown trend as being an overpriced fad that wasn’t necessary – I knew I could survive off food from a supermarket and actually save money to put toward other things. But now, after spending time with local farmers and learning about their stories, I’m realizing how much work is put into growing crops and how much support they really need. They’re real people – great people – who have felt a connection with the land and who want to share that with others. I’m still not totally convinced, but I’m getting there. At the very least, I respect these people immensely for doing work that I could never do without expecting much of a monetary return. For most of them, the physical satisfaction and social aspect of selling produce to people at farmers markets is enough.

Toni and Steve, the owners of Busy Bee Farm

Since the farms/farmers markets/wineries project at NJN has been my most favorite so far, I’m mostly channeling this new interest in nature into my food (well, and constantly changing “nature” wallpapers on my phone). I’m spending time reading about Philly restaurants that use homegrown crops for their menus. I’m reading books about gardens, farms, and cooking – currently, I’m on Bella Tuscany by Frances Mayes (of Under the Tuscan Sun fame, of course), where I am not only learning about tending and working with precious crops in the rural hills of Cortona but also teaching myself Italian culinary vocabulary that will come in handy when I start studying it in the fall. Fagiollini (string beans), vigna (vineyard), tutte le direzioni (all directions – not food-related but I like the sentiment) … it all sounds so wonderful.

Lavender stalks drying in a greenhouse

My favorite part is the many, many recipes I’m rounding up, the star always being fresh vegetables and lean meats. My new roommate and I have grand plans for the dinner parties we’ll throw for our friends this fall, so I’m saving them all for that. That is what all of this nature-conscious stuff has taught me – how food, the land, the purest parts of our lives can bring us together as people. It’s remarkable how all of these things come together and become the heart of our culture. There’s a reason they say the best conversation happens at dinnertime, or that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. I’m sure some other people would argue with me, but I believe these things have the power to hold up against iPhones and other techy gadgets in that department.

Gorgeous butterfly that was following us around on this shoot

Obviously, I’m learning a lot about what it takes to produce shows for television (I’ve already been able to take part in research, pre-production, scouting, scheduling, filming, logging, writing, editing, and promotion). But I’m glad to feel like I’m experiencing lifestyle changes as well. I’m at a point in my life where I feel like I could go in so many directions – both literally and in terms of my character, career, and life plans – so trying out new things is at the top of my list. Moving on to greener pastures with my new “green” philosophy in mind – and my friends, with full bellies, by my side – sure sounds promising to me.

misfortunes of may

I am officially a semi-shallow person: I lost my phone on Friday night – my new, precious, baby Droid Eris – and for a solid day, I sat here legitimately missing it.  Though I feel better now, talk about being overly dependent on material things…beautiful, functional, shiny little things.

It might not sound like a big deal, to be phoneless.  I have dozens of friends who lose their phones left-and-right, then just head to the Verizon store the next day and buy another one.  Easy peasy.  But I have never lost anything electronic before.  I’m super careful because I know there won’t be replacements – this phone was expensive and I got it for free after rebates and discounts, and that is the only way I would’ve been able to afford it.  That means there’s not going to be another new one.  I was able to get a pre-owned phone that will be in Baltimore soon, but after a pleasant month and a half together, I’m sad to say we had to part…and that some rando in Baltimore is probably going to be using my beautiful phone for his own socialization in a few days. Makes me sick to think about.

First thing my friends did after finding out I lost my phone? Call it. Second thing? Take a photo.

Anyway, enough of the pity party.  Now to address this actual “no phone” issue…it’s weird, but if you push aside the fact that I basically left $500 in the back of a taxi cab, physically not having a phone is actually kind of pleasant.  I have to make all of my plans with friends through Facebook message, chat, or actually in person {gasp!}.  Things have to be planned down to the very specifics – I am going to meet you here at this time and these people will be there and these plans will NOT change.  I rely on my friends to call shuttle vans, contact other friends, and check the time for me.  It’s so easy not to constantly be available, 24/7.

It was also refreshing to wake up and not check my phone the past couple mornings.  That’s normally the first thing I do before I even get out of bed.  But honestly, when have I ever received a text that was that important?  Before, not having my phone {leaving it in the apartment when I went to class or keeping it at a friend’s place before I went to a frat party – for safety’s sake} would make me feel so cut off from the real world.  But this time, I feel more a part of the real world than I ever have.  I can completely focus on what’s at hand.  When I lost it on Friday, we were going to Sonar for a dance party.  I didn’t have a phone I could keep checking for my texts, emails, missed calls, or even the time – I just danced and had fun.  On Saturday, even though I missed out on going to Preakness and a trip to Ocean City, NJ because I’m phoneless, I met up with my friends to picnic in the Tulip Garden and watched Preakness {mint juleps included as a shout-out to the Kentucky Derby} on television.  For the past two nights, I went out and helped friends celebrate some of the last nights we’ll all be here together.  And I haven’t once been bogged down by technology or constantly checking to see how late it is.  I can’t know any of that – I’m able to BE with my friends, 100%.  That’s the way it should be.

{In other news, I am DONE my final exams, papers, projects, and other assignments.  Stay tuned for my next post about my exciting summer plans!}

here’s to tomorrow

Greetings from a new year, a new decade, and a new day of Intersession 2010!  Now, to the first order of business in every new year of blogging: resolutions.

I’m a traditionalist in most senses, so I’m not the type to shrug off New Year resolutions.  Most of them obviously end up broken in the long run {Remember the time I vowed to work out regularly? Ha.}, but there is something refreshing about a serious self-evaluation and setting some real goals.  And really, the idea can be a great stepping stone to change if used appropriately: even though December 31 and January 1 don’t ever really feel different, sometimes that theoretical “fresh start” is just what people need to feel like they can actually, really, truly leave the garbage behind and do something different.

But going into New Years Eve, I had no idea what I wanted my resolution to be.  I mean, there were the obvious things:  Lose weight.  No more soda.  Stop procrastinating.  No more jealousy.  Throw more dinner parties.  Et cetera.  But those are always so easily broken and, by extension, really easily disheartening.  And it is a permanent New Years resolution of mine to always treat myself better – so that means impossible goals are a no-no.

It took me a few days {ok, a week}, but I finally decided on a deceptively simple-sounding resolution: stay hungry.  Sounds inspirational, right?  And very vague.  Basically, what I meant was not just picking one aspect of myself to make better for the time being, but to focus on the whole me and stay motivated to make general, long-term, long-lasting improvements.  Just as an example, I’ve been in quite a fashion rut lately.  It sounds superficial, but fashion is the one way in which I know I can express who I am as a person.  By not knowing what to wear and how to wear it, I’m having a subtle personality crisis.  To apply my resolution here, though, I’m not going to panic – I’m going to stay motivated and find a way to express myself.  I’m going to crave the perfect wardrobe, to send the perfect message about who I am and what I am like, and I’m not going to get discouraged while I seek it out.

Now that junior year is half over, I am thinking even harder about life-after-graduation.  I don’t know what I want to do or where I want to be.  I know some things that I like and I know some places that get me excited, but do I really want to spend my life there?  But I’m telling myself not to worry – to pick one, work as hard as I possibly can, and see how it feels.  I’m young and I have plenty of time to work my way up to a job that has everything I want, so right now I need to enjoy every minute and do as much as I can with the opportunities I have.  And besides – I think my goal, to put it more plainly, is to never be satisfied.  Once you’re happy and satisfied, you allow yourself to get comfortable – and then you stop trying.  I never want to stop trying, when it comes to anything.  I never want to be bored.

And so, my readers, stay hungry in 2010.  Whatever your resolutions, vow to navigate the year passionately and take off boldly towards what you really want.  Today, I simply want to enjoy a free day of Intersession and possibly take a walk in the snow – and I wish you were here to do it with me!