Growing up

Growing up is weird, and it entails doing a lot of things I don’t want to do but sort of have to get used to. The most pathetic of these things is doing things alone. As much as I say I hate people — and I really do to some extent — I am incapable of doing things or going places alone. I can’t say if it’s for fear of getting lost or looking stupid, I just have never liked the feeling, but life doesn’t work in a way that I can be surrounded by people I love at all times. I’ve moved cities and started in places where everyone was a stranger, so you’d think I’d be used to it. I’m not lying when I say I can hole myself in my apartment and be comfortable with Netflix to support me. I decided today that I was going to get over this fear of mine and explore downtown LA a bit by myself, and I did just that, though I didn’t start the adventures alone.

If you remember my friend Saba (refer to the last blog post if not), you’ll remember that she works at the LA Times. I asked her yesterday for a lunch recommendation knowing I wanted to head downtown for the day, and she had the great idea of meeting me for lunch. I hopped on the Metro, got off at Grand Park and read my book in the park as I waited for her to finish editing. When she was done, I met her in front of the LA Times building (WHICH IS MASSIVE), and we headed to Grand Central Market. That place is incredibly cute, and I was most pleased with lunch. We also got coffee shakes from G&B Coffee. Hello to the most delicious drink in the world…well, one of the most delicious drinks. She showed me the bench from (500) Days of Summer where Joseph draws the skyline on Zooey’s arm, but unfortunately the park is closed due to too many homeless people. How upsetting is that? But what isn’t upsetting is the Bradbury Building, which is where Joseph does his architecture job interview at the end. That place is magical. At this point, Saba and I then departed, and it was time for me to be an adult and do things alone. My phone was dying and I was about to walk around a city I didn’t know, so I did what any smart, reasonable person would do. I went to The Last Bookstore. And that’s where I fell in love.

If you haven’t been there, and you have the chance to, please do. The place is book heaven. Lord knows it’s amazing that I only walked out with four books after wanting to buy everything. I’m pleased with my selections, and I can’t wait to start reading them once I finish A Dance With Dragons. When I finally left, I had no idea what to do or where to go, so I walked until I found Pershing Square (which is really close) and hopped on the Metro back home.

So I know that’s kind of a pathetic outing, but it’s a step for me, and I have to say I’m quite proud of the fact that I did it alone. The next step is to go to the Science Center/other museums alone. Soon I won’t care that I’ll probably be spending a lot of  time by myself….right? Right?! Well, one can hope.

As for the other parts of growing up, I have to say I’ve learned a bit more about the journalism job markets and the dos and don’ts for my future through an interview series with staff that The Hollywood Reporter provides us with. As was stated the other day, no one cares if we succeed in our jobs. If we can help make our bosses’ lives easier and show that we are indispensable, that’s what counts. That’s all I can ever hope to do. I love this internship more than anything, and I know that I am passionate about it, so I’ll continue to work hard, and who knows what the future holds? I’m growing up, and the world is a big, scary place, but I’m trucking my way through it, and I have miles and miles to go.


Living that LA life

Well, I’ve officially been in LA for 19 days now. 19 whole days, and that’s weird to me, because I can’t tell if it feels like I’ve been here forever or if time is flying by.

Now, acclimating to this city wouldn’t have been possible without the amazing help of Olivia ( who graciously let me stay with her for a few days before trying to move me in to my apartment building, who let me stay with her after problems with said apartment building prohibited me from moving in for four more days, who helped me finally move in after waiting forever for more issues to blow over and for taking me on LA adventures —  even though she didn’t need to.

Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?

I arrived in Los Angeles on May 13, and I instantly fell in love with the trees with purple flowers and the towering palm trees. The chaos of the city streets, the busy shopping centers, the impossibility of parking (and sometimes getting out of parking garages), the necessity of carrying your own bags into said shopping centers and the vast expanse of the city are all things I still need to get used to, but I’m getting there. My dad and I drove around the city and up into the Hollywood Hills to give me a small — but very intimidating — tour of LA. We ended the day with a Metro pass for me (oh, public transport) and a dinner with Olivia. The next morning, it was good-bye dad and hello Olivia’s apartment. It’s this cute little place near Santa Monica, and I enjoyed the time I spent there.

10349743_646147532133193_500552838_nWhile there, we got some Diddy Riese (the cheapest make-it-yourself ice cream sandwich place), saw a show at The Mint LA, visited the Third Street Promenade and the Santa Monica Pier at night, watched Lost and made some pretty great dinners. I was supposed to move into my apartment May 17, but issues prevented me from moving in until May 21, so it was back to Olivia’s for a few days. I was starting work May 19 and was a little (okay, a lot) scared, but Olivia helped me calm down before I started.

After my first day at the office, I knew I had nothing to worry about. Everybody there has been nothing but welcoming and helpful, the office is easy to get to via public transport, it’s in a great area and I’ve gotten the chance to do some pretty amazing things (stay tuned for later in the post). Now, I only work two days a week, which makes me sad, because I really love it and would love to work more, but such is life. After work on Wednesday, Olivia and I headed towards USC to move me into my 10311037_319169471570875_2040205219_napartment. Everyone, take a look at the Lorenzo. This is where I live. This is the view from my room. This is my life for the summer. Four pools, a three-story gym and free coffee are just a few of the amenities. A girl really can’t complain about this life. I was living here alone for a few days before my first roommate moved in. Loredanna is absolutely a great roommate, and we’ve had a good time so far. Our other roommate, Danielle, just moved in yesterday, so there’s that.

As for the past two weeks with my internship, I have loved every moment of it. This past week was the busiest I’ve been what with projects (just wait until later this month to hear about that) and my first chance to cover a Hollywood red carpet! Yup, I got to cover the Maleficent premiere, which meant 10432015_669787063091821_250834480_ntalking with most of the cast (Angelina had to fly past us because she was late and took too much time with fans). It was an amazing experience, but what made it even better was meeting Saba, an LA Times reporter who knows two of my journalism friends from OU. She helped make my experience at the premiere amazing and showed me around Hollywood a bit (such as seeing the Dolby Theater). I can’t wait to hang out with her this summer.

So all in all, these past 19 days have been pretty great. I have plenty of time to go out and explore the city, but I think for this night, Orphan Black and a nice dinner is good enough for me. I’m excited to see what happens during the summer and what my internship has in store for me. Life is a grand thing.

Summer goals (well, some of the most important ones):
Go to Disneyland
Visit San Diego
Get a picture with the Hollywood sign
See a performance at the Hollywood Bowl
Go to an LA Galaxy game
See a movie in the cemetary
Try In N Out
Visit The Last Bookstore
Go to the Griffith Observatory
Hike in Runyon Canyon
Visit Malibu
Tour WB Studios

Driving with dad: Part two

I ended the last post with our adventures through frozen Yellowstone, but that day did not end there. We continued another six hours to our hotel for the night and finally had a chance to settle down. My dad likes to watch TV to wind down for the night, and one of his favorite channels happens to be the Discovery Channel. But you see, the problem with the Discovery Channel is that they like to focus on disaster stories. The show they happened to be airing that night? Yellowstone: Brink of Disaster. I didn’t want to see how close the calderas of Yellowstone are to exploding and killing everything. I didn’t want to see that the animals are getting weird diseases that never affected them before. I didn’t want to see the problems of the beautiful place I had just been to, because it made me sad. I also didn’t want to see the problems of this wonderful place because we were so close to the park that if the supervolcano did explode, we would go down with it, and I didn’t want to think about that possibility. But that didn’t stop my dad from forcing me to watch it and deal with that fear that was seeping its way into my every thought. So after falling asleep to the prospect of an explosion, we woke up ready to tackle the third day.

We hadn’t planned any stops for the third day because both Yosemite and the Redwoods were out of the path, but it turns out that we were going through Reno. Reno happens to be the home of Dannae, a little angel I happened to meet abroad thanks to the fact that two of my best friends met her while studying 10300670_662817277089442_1360344908646484825_nabroad in Spain and had the bright idea of bringing her to London with them when they visited me in the spring. She is the sweetest person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting, so I convinced my dad to stop in Reno so we could see her. We had a nice little lunch, and I was thrilled that we were able to stop, even if it was only for an hour or so. After Reno, we continued the trek to Benicia which is where we were staying for the night. I have to say that I was amazed at the range of scenery we encountered as we drove through California. I know it is a big state so that is only inevitable, but it was still pretty surreal. We entered through the mountains and Donner Pass (kind of, because the highway is actually a few feet higher than the actual pass and a bit safer…which is something we were going to listen to this time). The views were breathtaking. We then continued on through Sacramento which is where I encountered my very first California traffic jam. (I have already been in my fair share of those even though I haven’t even been here for a week.) The best part of the hotel we were staying at was the fact that it had HBO so I could watch Game of Thrones as it airs. There was one particular part of the episode that I had to hold my breath at because if my dad had woken up, it would have been more of an awkward experience than I had hoped to ever encounter, but it went on without a hitch.

10367591_10154168745200301_8360232198865131101_nThe next morning, we woke up super early to drive the hour to San Francisco so I could see a few sights before our Alcatraz tour started at 11. Our first stop was the Golden Gate Bridge, which is really as beautiful as they say it is. I don’t think we found the right viewing spot or the one we had originally intended at stopping at, but it was worth it regardless. The next thing I wanted to do was go to the Lombard Street portion of Russian Hill because I’ve only over seen the eight crazy turns in pictures. We got to go down it, and I was so excited. It isn’t like it is the most thrilling place in the entire world, but I was absolutely in10299837_766139630096825_1949443838_n love with it. The turns are so crazy that you can’t even see them behind the shrubbery, but I assure you that they are there. As we drove around the city, I was freaking out about the steep hills. Jeff Hill (at Ohio University) has nothing on these crazy streets. At one point, we stopped at the top of a hill—at a stop sign— and were looking at the sky. There was no way we were going to be able to see the road or the front of the car. It was surreal. So after driving around, we found a cute little café near the bay for some breakfast. We found the sea lions of Pier 39 and a store just for left-handed people that my dad was thrilled about. But the main reason I wanted to stop in San Francisco was to see Alcatraz, and so we did.

DSCN1425Ever since I read “Escape from Alcatraz” in middle school, I had wanted to stop and see the infamous island prison. I love reading about the history of places and was ready to walk around these places I had read about. Naturally, I loved everything about it. The island has beautiful gardens that stick out amongst the dilapidated buildings. There was just so much to see and learn. My dad was rushing me through, so I didn’t get to listen to the audio tour, but that just means I have another excuse to go back. I wasn’t going to leave without buying a book about Alcatraz, so I chose Letters from Alcatraz because there is nothing better than reading firsthand accounts from prisoners. I am beyond excited to delve into that book. After we left the island, it was down the Pacific Coast Highway to Santa Maria for the night and then LA in the morning.   

Driving with dad: Part one

A week and a half ago, I embarked on a whole new adventure that took me to places I’d never been to spend my summer interning some 2000 miles away from home. When I first got this internship in Los Angeles, I thought I was going to buy a plane ticket, but my dad had the bright idea of a cross-country road trip. I can’t say I was mad about the idea, so as soon as I got home May 2, my father and I sat down to plan the trip. After a week at home and tons of errands completed, we loaded up the car and began the drive at midnight May 9.

Day one: My dad and I knew we had planned a full first day with three stops and 1200 miles to travel. The first thirteen hours was filled with scream-singing oldies and entertaining billboard signs for DSCN1330the ONLY Corn Palace that was “bushels of fun” and something we should “corn-sider visiting.” After traversing flat Midwestern land, we finally arrived at our first stop: the South Dakota Badlands. The national park itself is 242,746 acres of some of the most unreal formations you will ever see. As you drive through the park, you are looking into the valley, and as you continue driving, you go down into the valley, so the spires and formations are towering above you. Not only were the formationsDSCN1372 wonderful to see, but the wide range of colors from bright reds to light browns was beautiful. Also, I got to see a ton of prairie dogs which are SO CUTE AND SMALL. As we wound our way through these seemingly random structures, my mind wandered back to when pioneers would have first stumbled upon this place. I can’t imagine how shocking the Badlands must have appeared to people who were used to flat farm lands.

After leaving the Badlands, my dad and I headed to the one and only place where you can find the heads of presidents carved into rock: Mt. Rushmore. I have to say, there isn’t too much to do when visiting Mt. Rushmore when you are on a time constraint except to see it, take a photo and leave.DSCN1375 It was an amazing experience to get see the carvings in person though, because they are incredibly done. So after staring at the faces for a few seconds, my dad rushed me out to beat traffic, and we continued our journey to Devils Tower. My dad is an alien guy, so he was excited to see the “landing place” of the aliens in Close Encounters of the Third Kind. I can’t say I’ve seen the movie, but the tower itself is amazing to behold in DSCN1380person. As we pulled over to the side of the road for some pictures, we were greeted with the constant mooing of cows. Welcome to the Midwest. To beat the rain, my dad and I got back in the car and continued the drive to our hotel in Wyoming. After 18 hours on the road,we finally arrived to find that out hotel was decked out in Western items, with framed pictures of bison on the walls and buffalo cutouts above the beds. When driving with my father, one learns that there is little time to sleep and eat, so we headed straight to bed and prepared for a 6 am departure time. Next stop: Yellowstone National Park.

When I woke up the next morning and discovered that the weather in Yellowstone was supposed to be 27 degrees with a chance of snow, I thought it was a joke. It was 60 degrees and sunny when we began the drive, but little did I know what we were in for. My dad and I are the type of people that plan a trip on Google Maps and never diverge from our plans, so when we saw signs for “the safest route” to Yellowstone and “the most scenic route,” we decided to ignore it and keep following our original plans. As we approached Bighorn National Forest, I was entirely in love.

IMG_20140510_082651_922Do you see how amazing that view is? The weather was great, and it’s a totally scenic place to be, no? We scoffed at the other route wondering just how scenic that could be compared to where we were. But as we climbed higher and higher into the mountains, the temperature began to drop and snow began to appear on the sides of the road. DSCN1385And then all of a sudden, we were in a frozen tundra. Snow drifts were higher than the car and patches of ice were everywhere. It wasn’t so scary until we started descending. When you see signs warning trucks not to drive down a 5% grade with steep curves, it makes you a little nervous. When you see these same signs but are forced to continue with black ice and no cell service to call for help in the midst of a snow storm, you stop breathing. The drive down seemed to take forever, my heart was pounding in my chest and I was clutching my notebook until my knuckles turned white. I understood why this wasn’t the safest route. It was scenic, but dear God I felt like 10261988_10154153798435301_1581054606016923952_nI was in a horror movie. My dad laughed at my fear, but I could tell he was a little nervous to0. We had rented a car to make the journey, and it wasn’t really equipped with the right tires, nor did we know how the car would handle in this weather.

Thankfully we made it through the forest and continued on our merry way to Yellowstone; however, we approached the park only to find blizzard conditions for the first hour. The snow stopped after after a while, which made everything a little better. Unfortunately, due to the snow DSCN1401and our time constraint, we couldn’t see much, but I did get to see Old Faithful. And everything else I managed to see was incredibly, breathtakingly beautiful. You’ll be glad to know that even when the weather is bad, people still suck. Idiots were out of their cars approaching bear cubs like it was no big deal. HAVE YOU NEVER SEEN DISCOVERY CHANNEL?! Where there are cubs, there are mommas who can get angry. Idiots. There were people in shorts and crocs. THE SNOW WAS TALLER THAN THE CARS. Did you not look at the weather before coming?! People stopped in the middle of the road instead of puling of to the side and letting us through. Sigh.

But anyway, I would love to go back with more time to explore the park (and maybe even go when there isn’t any snow so I don’t freeze). We did get to see lots of bison though, and this little fellow I happened to name Mark Buffalo since he followed next DSCN1386to our car for a few minutes. Isn’t he a stunner? Well, I guess I’ll stop this post here and continue the rest of my adventures for another time.

Adventures in LA

I haven’t written anything since January 2, which seems like a really long time ago when I write it on the computer, but it actually feels like it flew by at the speed of light. This semester is ending in two and a half weeks. I’m going to be a senior. As good as that word tastes in my mouth, it also has a bitter aftertaste. Being a senior means I’m one step closer to following through with my dreams, but it also means the terrifying real world and the potential for utter failure.

So I guess that leaves me with two ways of looking at it.

But before I even attempt to think about senior year, I’m about to face one of the biggest adventures of my life: my first real-office internship. Where? AT THE HOLLYWOOD REPORTER. I’m packing my bags and heading to California (for the first time) for a summer internship at my dream publication.

Less than fifteen weeks ago my magazine feature professor asked the class where we would love to intern. Less than fifteen weeks ago I said The Hollywood Reporter. Fast forward to present day, and here I am with an internship at The Hollywood Reporter. SOMEONE PINCH ME. THIS ISN’T REAL.

I haven’t documented any of my adventures in a while, which makes me sad, because although they weren’t entirely thrilling, it was my life.

I went to my first professional hockey game (go Islanders! …even though they lost), I turned 21, I celebrated with my friends as they turned 21, I’m looking at a (hopefully) 4.0 this semester, I’ve made some new friends and I’ve enjoyed life.

In about a month I’ll be moving for the summer and heading on an entirely new adventure. A lot can change in a few weeks. Who knew?

Starting over

It’s January 2nd, and I’m staring at my to-do list struggling to determine where I should start. I have a week until I head back down to school, and my motivation level is at an all time low. All I want to do is finish my Game of Thrones novels (on three of five) and watch some Hulu/Netflix and hang out with my friends, but that’s not how I should start this year off. This time last year, I started my blog to document my adventures in London. I talked about how scared and excited I was. I had resolutions and goals for my time abroad. 2013 was everything I could have asked for and more. I met new friends, saw parts of the world I never thought I would, experienced history firsthand, met celebrities, went to TV show tapings, got on TV, went to concerts, interviewed some amazing folks and made memories with the greatest people in the world. 2014 just started, and it’s a chance to start over, but what if I don’t want to? I just want to continue last year’s amazingness and never have it stop. But it can’t. It has to start over, because I’m not going back, and my life isn’t continuing yet. At this point in life, it’s just stopping and restarting over and over and over again. You intern, you work, you study, you finish semesters and you do it again. I’m done with it. I’m over it. I’m ready to continue. Since I can’t just yet, I’ve come up with some cliché goals for the year to make it the best it can be. Much can change in a matter of days, so even though I feel like this year can’t hold anything too exciting for me, I could be dead wrong. And that both terrifies and excites me all the same.

  • Be brave
  • Work hard, i.e. stay on top of assignments, actually read for classes
  • Write more for myself
  • Read at least a book a month…for my sanity 
  • Learn how to cook a new meal once a month
  • Stay organized
  • Do what traveling I can 
  • Celebrate my 21st the way I want to and not what others want
  • Don’t forget to breathe  

In the wise words of Hannah Montana, “life’s what you make it, so let’s make it rock.” 


“I see it all perfectly; there are two possible situations — one can either do this or that. My honest opinion and my friendly advice is this: do it or do not do it — you will regret both.”
― Søren KierkegaardEither/Or: A Fragment of Life

People always tell you to live your life without regrets or that the only regrets you will have are the things you didn’t do— or what have you.

There are few things I regret in my life. I regret quitting soccer, which I did because I felt like I didn’t have the time. I regret leaving theater, which I did because I felt too busy with everything else. And looking to where I am now, there are probably a lot of other things I’m going to regret.

Maybe I’ll regret not going out with my friends that one night because I just felt uncomfortable. Maybe I’ll regret not going to clubs because they always tend to have some interesting stories. Maybe I’ll regret not taking that class because I didn’t think I had time. Maybe I’ll regret never saying anything to beanie boy except “thanks” and “have a good day.” Maybe I will and maybe I won’t.

But even if I think I will regret it, I can’t just change my ways. My comfort level is something I can control, and just the thought of leaving my comfort zone just makes me…..well, uncomfortable.

“That’s the point,” people argue. “You don’t want to regret life,” they tell me. “It’s not that hard to just do things,” they say. Maybe not for you. Maybe I don’t care. Maybe I just don’t want to.

A few years from now I’ll probably look back and wish I did some things I could never do, but right now, I’m okay with where I am. I’m okay with staying comfortable. I’ve traveled parts of the world, I’ve met interesting people and I’m following my dreams. That’s got to count for something, right? It’ll be worth the later regrets, right?

Maybe. Maybe not.

“Maybe all one can do is hope to end up with the right regrets.”
― Arthur MillerThe Ride Down Mt. Morgan

Humanity upsets me

This week has been a struggle, in more ways than one. 

Sure, it was midterms week, and I probably shouldn’t have waited until the last minute to study. My fault. 
Sure, I had some stories to write and should have tried to finish sooner, but that’s hard when waiting for sources to get back to me. Both of our faults.
Sure, I got little sleep on nights when I could have slept because I was scrolling Tumblr. My fault.
But the biggest struggle I’ve had this week is letting myself trust society and believe in change. I have overheard disgusting conversations, I have read horrible comments, I have seen a blatant disregard for human decency, and I’m sick and tired of it all. 

Let me set the scene for you: Homecoming weekend, a time of making memories and reliving the past. I was annoyed walking home Saturday night because a guy called me a feisty, little girl when I wouldn’t respond to his catcalling. I was upset when a guy got up in my face and asked me where I was going and if he could come with. I wanted to slap a guy when he told me I’d be sexier if I wore a different shirt . It wasn’t a good weekend for me and the human population, but I was even more upset when I heard about what happened to a girl on Court Street. If you haven’t already heard the details, I’m a bit surprised because OU has made national and international news for the situation. It’s a disgusting topic to be in the news for, and it is in no way an accurate depiction for the university I love so much.

But what happened to this girl on that night is not the only part of the situation that is disgusting. The fact that people stood around, took pictures and recorded the events disgusts me. The fact that people are blaming the alcohol in her system for making her a whore is disgusting. The fact that people assume they know the whole story based on a blurry video and fuzzy pictures annoys me. News came out today that they went to an apartment together after the Court Street situation happened, but here’s the thing folks, we don’t know what happened in the apartment. We don’t know what they did in the apartment. We don’t know if she wanted to stay and do things in the apartment. The only assumptions being made are based on the little information police have and what people think happened.

New facts are coming to light, and we are learning more, but the rudeness coming over social media is hurting me. I can’t even imagine how it’s hurting her. When you attack victims, you make others scared to come forward. You make them feel like they are the problem. People need to stop assuming they know everything. People need to stop thinking rape culture doesn’t exist. 

I’m losing hope in humanity, and I fear for my little sister’s safety when she gets to college. I fear for my safety on a daily basis. I hate walking home alone, and I hate having to feel uncomfortable on weekends because I know people will yell at me from their houses. I hate that I have to worry about these things when I’m just trying to live my life. I hate that we have to have this conversation. I hate everything that is happening in the world. I just want to curl up in my bed with Netflix and never have to deal with ignorant and disgusting things ever again. But that’s not how life works, and that stinks. 


My junior year of high school, I lost one of my good friends to suicide. I remember walking into school that morning and seeing a few of my friends crying. I approached them and asked what happened. After I was told, I began to run down the hallway as if I would find answers to the news I didn’t believe.

I ran into his best friend with tears welling up in my eyes and managed to ask him what he knew. He didn’t know anything. The look of shock and pure terror on his face will forever be embedded in my mind. He turned and ran, and I just sat and stared.

That happened four years ago, but now, as my sister is a junior, they are going through something similar.

One of my sister’s classmates and brother to one of my absolute best friend’s passed away at football practice last night after going into cardiac arrest. It was unexpected, and the school is struggling.

My sister messaged me and told me the school is in bad shape, and she asked if it was like this when my friend died.

What do I tell her? That I remember the tear stained faces of all of the students who knew and loved him? That I watched videos where he spoke daily so I wouldn’t forget his voice? How about the deadening silence that filled my classrooms because my teachers didn’t know how to speak? Or what about staring at his empty seat across from me in our history group because he wasn’t coming back?

The days following my friend’s death are forever embedded in my mind, and I don’t know what to say to my sister.

You get over it. You move on. But you can never forget, and the memories follow you through everything you do.

You remember when you get accepted to college that he won’t read that letter. You remember at graduation that a kid you’ve gone to school with for years isn’t graduating with you. You remember at college that your friend isn’t experiencing new things. You remember when listening to music you both loved or watching TV shows you both liked or when reading a book he told you to read. You remember when the anniversary of loss happens. You can’t forget.

And I don’t know how to help.


This past Saturday was OU’s first home football game, and now that I am living in a house, my friends and I decided to throw a tailgate because that’s what adults do.

We made it a potluck style so everyone would bring things like hot dogs and chips and all of the goodies that tailgate parties need. I decided that I was going to try and make roasted potatoes, so I got online and Pinterested a recipe.

I know, I know. Pinterest fails are a common sight all over the Internet, but I decided to tackle it and try myself. What happened after was a sweet success.

I did it. I made garlic and herb roasted potatoes, and they were actually really delicious.

So I decided to make myself a little more domestic and made sweet and sour meatballs (meatballs courtesy of Carolyn).

Those were a complete and utter success as well. So I am really proud to say that I can cook some things. I’m an adult!

But just wait, because I’ll be documenting my cooking success (and failures) here because everyone loves a good messy kitchen story. Am I right or am I right?

Back into the swing of things

We’re four days into the start of the school year, and I’m behind on almost all of my readings. Now that‘s what I’m talking about.

It might be a little frustrating to have a lack of sleep, and this week is particularly awful due to the stomach pains I’m feeling; however, this is what I live for. The whole lack of a social life and regular sleep pattern means I’m accomplishing something.

I worked on a fun drug CP over the summer and managed to pull together some crazy sources, and that was published today. The first of my five PMs this semester was published today, and that’s always a good feeling.

Sure, 20 credit hours is a little overwhelming, but I’m crossing off my list of required classes for my major and double minors. I’m getting things done, and the faster I do that, the faster I can head back to London and find a job. AMIRIGHT?

But in all seriousness, that’s the goal. The more time I sit in school, the less I’m actually doing what I want to be doing. Don’t get me wrong, OU is wonderful, and I love all of my friends here. I also really admire most of my professors and thank them for everything. And the staff at The Post? Most of them are my family, and they have taught me so much. I’m taking everything in during this next two years because then I’m all done with what I know, and I’m going to be thrust into a realm of not knowing anything or anyone. But that’s exciting for me, so hey, bring it on world. I’m ready.

Feeling fresh

I have been back in Athens for a week now, and everybody is finally reunited and things are getting back to how they were. 

Stark (Kelsey) is back in my life and things will be getting crazy. My friends and I had a taco night tonight, following the bash on our porch yesterday. I went to Front Room for the first time in a long while and saw some musicians I’ve loved hearing for years. The evening also included one of my favorite small town original songs that reminds me of my one of the good friends I lost. I saw Bruce again, and I had three Beanie Boy sightings in ONE day. Kara and I managed to build my bed, and I can safely say I will never make that mistake again. It looks cute though. I’m working on four stories for the Post and am setting interviews up for Cliche. I’m prepping for school, and I’m excited for it. 

This is my junior year. I am halfway through university, I am paying bills, I am living in a house and I am managing work and school. I’m writing and learning, and I’m looking towards this new adventure. I told you my life is full of ordinary events that make extraordinary memories, and this year has been one of the best of my life. I can’t wait to see what happens next.