Dear Reader,

This post is probably going to be pointless and is being written for no audience whatsoever but I need to get it out there for my own sanity  because I’ve reached the point of the semester where I feel like I’m completely losing it.

I can’t finish anything.

This, of course, is a theme in my life and has been since I can remember. My brother used to relentlessly make fun of me by listing off all of the projects I started and never finished–the books and songs I would write, the neighborhood newspaper I tried to get going, the web series that only ever reached the planning stage, the store that my sister and I would man. I was very young for all of these weird ideas, but the point still stands: I can’t finish shit.

I have written so many blog posts in the past few days. Some are about serious stuff, others are just updates, but all of them are left unfinished.

Of course, that’s the least of my worries at this point because there’s all of my schoolwork that goes unfinished. In fact, it is RARE for me to complete a course without missing an assignment. And even when I have the opportunity to turn the assignment in late, it always remained unfinished. Even when I write or meet with the professor during the editing stages and ask for an extension or whatever, it still never gets done.

I have books on my shelf that are half-read. I have my daily calendar that tells me what historic thing woman have done on this day still on February 6th. I have a loose budget because I can’t bring myself to finish hounding out the details. Even now, right this moment, I am laying on my unmade bed with a blanket over me because I can’t bring myself to put the clean sheets back on the mattress.

And I don’t know what’s wrong with me and I know it’s nothing new but what really irks me is when I go to the doctor’s and they give me the survey to check up on my ADD and I read the question: “Do you often start tasks but quickly lose focus or become easily sidetracked?”

Because it’s kind of a tricky answer. Yes, but I don’t just forget about the task I was doing first (well, not always). I just get sidetracked with another task or another project. I remember when I didn’t write a final for one of my classes freshman year because I was writing my novel. And then this summer I didn’t bother editing my poor draft for the journalism class I was in because I wanted to make a medley of Sia’s songs on the piano.

So I don’t know if this is ADD or just a terrible habit of abandoning projects or just who I am as a person but it’s so annoying and I don’t know how to fix it. Even now I’m reaching the point of just giving up on this entry and moving onto something else, but I’m going to push through.

And I just wonder what it would be like if my life had focus. In the general sense, I guess. Or if I could just keep the focus, but that sounds like ADD, doesn’t it? Except I take my meds–I even just recently upped the medication–and the problem remains.

So I know this is weird to publish. It doesn’t paint me in the best light, but it reveals a lot about who I am. And it certainly doesn’t have a point. No inspiring story or happy ending here. And I’m not even asking for help. I’m not saying, please give me suggestions on how I can change–because I don’t know if I can. I don’t know that there’s anything anyone can tell me to do that isn’t the obvious “get your shit done” answer.

But anyway, I think this is the ending. There. I’ve written one cohesive (eh, debatable) post and I’m going to publish it so that I can prove to myself that I can finish at least one thing to completion. And then maybe that’ll inspire me to finish more. And then maybe I’ll finish the “if we were having coffee” post and the “I don’t know what do in this situation” post and I’ll start blogging again. And then maybe I’ll change.

Or maybe I’ll just forget I’ve even written this by the time I wake up tomorrow.

I guess we’ll just see.



PS. I just titled this and it seems super dramatic if you don’t know the context, but I’m just saying “finished.” Like, one thing down, twenty to go type of thing. Jeez I hope no one takes it as something more serious lol



PPS. I just typed “unfinished” in Google Images and “unfinished bridges” was the first thing to pop up and it just made me laugh because at least I’m just like a stupid student who’s not getting stuff done but it’s not detrimental to society or anything. Like who the hell is this guy who just didn’t finish this bridge?




Dear Reader,

I don’t know how I’m going to be a functioning adult living in the real world. And it’s not just because I get anxious on most phone calls (and even going through drive-thrus for that matter) or because I can’t keep my room clean or because I still get help from my parents when it comes to things like doing my taxes or opening jars of spaghetti sauce.

It’s because I’m scared.

Of everything.

I’m constantly paranoid. I always jump to conclusions and scare myself beyond anything rationable. Maybe I just watch too much TV or maybe it’s my vindictive vivid imagination at work, but it’s a pain because I can’t help it. It’s stupid, but I can’t help it. So I’ve decided to outline some of the stupid things I’ve thought and done because of my absurd paranoia.

Things I Have Done:

  • believed I was pregnant, on two different occasions, before ever having sex
  • cried while playing the piano because every song reminded me of my sister and I currently thought she was dying because she was in the hospital for something minor
  • called the police when I was in seventh grade because I was home alone and thought someone was in my house but it was really just snow. (I might elaborate on this story another time because it’s actually ridiculous)
  • thought, when a car drove by: They have a gun. I’m the only one on this street. And they’re going to shoot me. I’ll just be the random casualty of the day. (this happens quite frequently)
  • when my parents were late coming home from a movie the other night, and the weather was terrible, believed that they surely had gotten into an accident and died, and Sean, Sarah and I would have to move home and try to support each other as orphans
  • called friends, on multiple occasions, freaking out because I heard noises in my house
  • believed that me/my house/someone in my house was being haunted by a bad spirit (this one was fortunately debunked later, or else it would still surely keep me up at night)
  • woke up my parents because I was crying about the inevitability of death and the possibility of the nonexistence of God
  • had a panic attack during a shower for the same reason
  • believed that I was going to get shot while seeing a movie in my hometown

And then we have today:

  • heard creepy music from the basement (specifically the flutey music that plays in those western films when the tumbleweed blows through), grabbed my dog, got in the car, and left my house because I was sure a serial killer was going to murder me and the music was for his (or her–I don’t want to promote stereotypes) own sadistic pleasure.
  • later I returned and decided to investigate (with my dog by my side) and discovered that it was the ringtone of a phone left by one of my dad’s friends from the night before.
  • the irony? this incident interrupted the video I was filming today–a video where I was dancing in every room, singing until I was screaming, and talking to myself as loudly as I can because I was demonstrating how wonderful it is when you have the house to yourself

So let’s recap. I live in a very safe community in the suburbs of Ohio and I go to a school in the middle of nowhere where the crime rate is relatively low and the closest city is forty minutes away where I have irrational thoughts like these on a day-to-day basis. Yet I have dreams of moving to New York City or possibly working in inner city schools or even traveling the world alone.

The foreseeably problematic future is not lost on me.

In the (paraphrased) words of Mindy Kaling (I’ll find the real quote later): It’s disappointing when our aspirations aren’t matched with our abilities.





Dear Reader,

At the beginning of 2015, I started a bucket list in the hopes that at the end of the year, I would be somewhat more talented, worldly, or just have done more stuff, I guess. Although I didn’t get to complete everything on the list (when do I ever, really?) I did do a lot this year that I’m proud of. So I thought I’d make this recap.

In 2015 I…

  • became an Aunt


  • rushed (and joined) a sorority



  • went somewhere new (Gatlingburg, TN)


  • watched 50 new movies
  • made a jar for memories (and gave it to Sarah)


  • was more confident in a bathing suit than I have been, but we’re still working on it
  • wrote at least 3 letters to 23-year-old Sammy
  • ran a 5k (and took HORRIBLE pictures but I’ll post them here anyway)


  • finished my daily sudoku puzzles (from 2014)
  • went to a concert (Ed Sheeran!!)
  • watched the sunrise


  • learned how to use chopsticks
  • joined a new club (lol yay CLT!)
  • explored interesting buildings on campus that I’ve never seen before


  • wrote a letter


  • took a hot bath/had a spa day (this is the most scandalous pic I’ve ever taken)



  • learned how to tap dance (more or less)
  • started a YouTube channel


  • took a road trip with Sarah!


  • used the ouija board for the first time in years (I’m planning on telling that story on here eventually)

and the last thing on my bucket list was:

  • be someone’s inspiration for 2016–I don’t know if I actually did that one but it was a good one to keep on here nonetheless


So here’s to 2015, and here’s to the new year! If you feel inclined, I would love to know what some of your highlights of the year were in the comments! Also, leave any suggestions for a 2016 bucket list–Sarah agreed to join me this year and we have some big things planned. 🙂




Dear Reader,


I’ve told a few people that I have this thing called a “drunk journal” in my notes on my phone where, in true Hemingway style, I write only after I’ve had a few. What I don’t tell people is what I write in it. Or when.

Because sometimes I write in it after I catch a reflection of myself in a mirror and decide to excuse myself from a party and walk home alone.

And sometimes I turn to it when I find myself in a corner, not talking to anyone and silently refusing to make the effort myself.

It’s not all bad, though. Some of the things I find on it are really amusing (and rather questionable), but because I really don’t write in it too often (surprise! I’m not an alcoholic!), the majority are just sentences that look like the last time I wrote:

“Sometimes I think if I wore makeup, maybe I’d get a man.”

What a stupid (and truly embarrassing) thing to say. In the act of full disclosure, though, I’m sharing it here because these are the fleeting thoughts that I shrug off when I’m sober, but can’t let go of when I’m drunk and everything seems to become clear as the guys approach my attractive friends and I am left to turn to my glass and pick up my phone.

I’m doing the Happiness Project this year, which essentially consists of making monthly goals or resolutions that will help you become a better person and make you, in turn, happier. I’ve been rattling my brain for a while now thinking of “themes” for my months. For example, January is to get organized, and I wanted other to be things like “get active,” “get passionate,” and “get educated.”

In the past I’ve always thought, “okay this is the year where I’ll start getting getting fit,” or “this is the summer where I turn pretty.” And even when I was thinking of this project, I’ve thought “maybe this year I’ll learn how to do my makeup or build an actual wardrobe.” 

But I want to get rid of all of that. I’ve always said that I want to work on the inside the most, but my outer appearance has always been of equal importance.

Not this year.

I have this new image of the girl who will be writing her conclusion in a year. And maybe she looks exactly as I do right now–sitting braless at my computer with my second-day hair messily swept to the left side of my neck and my nail polish black and chipped.

Ah, the unattractive picture of a girl whose life is anything but together.


But she’s not the same girl as me, and her life is together. She’s intelligent and quick-witted and funny and she’s so caring and loving and radiates warmth everywhere she goes. She doesn’t take life too seriously, because she can recognize what’s important. And she doesn’t care what people think about her because she has learned how to make herself happy.

So maybe she doesn’t know how to apply eyeliner or have the willpower to choose salads over burgers, but this is the girl you want to meet. Well, maybe not everyone. Because she understands that everyone has their own opinion and even the most well-liked person is disliked by someone. She has no trouble remembering this, though.

She is truly herself and okay with it–happy, even–in every single way.

But oh my gosh you have to read this girl’s drunk journal! It’s hysterical.

And not at all depressing.




Dear Reader,

I posted an unattractive picture of myself on Instagram today (no filter) because it made me laugh.   

That’s something that’s been on my mind a lot lately. What people find to be funny and how important that can be. 

I’ve never quite been a “class clown” type character, and even in friend groups where I’m the one receiving the most laughs, it’s usually because my sense of humor (and the jokes I tell) is (are) obnoxious. 

And if there was every something I wanted to be so badly it was “the funny one.”

No one can deny how good it feels to make someone laugh. And–even more egotistically–how good it feels to be labeled as funny. But I’ve always been too insecure to actually feel like I’m funny (probably because I’m insecure about everything). 

I’ve been so obsessed with comedians and all different styles of comedy. I read all these hilarious autobiographies and watch clips and TV shows like Last Comic Standing and Whose Line and SNL. I am obsessed with my school’s improv troupe, and I so desperately wish I could be a part of something like that, but I know I’ll probably never put myself out there in such a way. 

Because there are two things I know for sure: 

1. Not everyone can do it. And that’s the sad truth. And I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to think that quickly or keep my face from getting red or manage to not trip over my speech in front of a crowd. I mean how could I–a shaky, red-faced nobody–be able to deliver a punchline?

2. You have to have confidence. Or, at least, you have to fake confidence. 

All of my favorite people and comedians and even YouTubers are the ones who know they’re funny. And that’s at least half the battle. 

There’s a great quote from Bossypants where Tina Fey describes Amy Poehler through an exchange she had with Jimmy Fallon that proved one single point: she did everything she did because she wanted to, and she didn’t care who did (or didn’t) like it.

It’s like the picture I posted tonight. We took way too many, but this one made me laugh, so I posted it. Then I said “what if I just had the caption be #nofilter?” And we laughed some more. And then I saw that one of the locations I could pick was “Fort Meigs: Ohio’s War of 1812 Battlefield.”

So here we all were, rolling around the basement at 11:30, laughing at stupid jokes. And I posted that ugly picture that took us too long to take with the lame caption and slightly incorrect location, not because it’d get a lot of likes on Instagram or because people would think it was funny. 

But because we all thought it was funny. 

I think it’s funny. 

So I’m trying to do more shit like that because life is too short to be worrying about what everybody else is giggling at when you could be making yourself laugh instead. 




Dear Reader,

Today has been a surprisingly productive day. Also, I’ve been having more ideas for YouTube videos lately and have actually had the energy and drive to try and do them, but I’m not sure if that’s just because of boredom and the fact I’m home alone a lot more now that Sarah is back at school.

Anyway, here’s the new video for the week (I know I linked it at the end of the last one but it would’ve bugged me if I didn’t make a separate post for it):

And I think I’m going to try and get another one up for Sarah’s birthday on Saturday (let’s hope I didn’t just jinx myself)

I want this momentum for my channel and blog to keep up through January and, well, the rest of the month.

I have ideas–let’s see if I actually implement them.





Dear Reader,

I got a new phone today and it’s making me feel really great, which only makes me feel shallow. I want to connect with everyone on Snapchat and take a ton of pictures and post them on Instagram and share everything with everyone on Facebook. And it’s weird that these things bring me pleasure–or the thought of them do, at least (I really failed at taking selfies tonight, lemme tell ya).

Sarah and I also made a vlog today and I actually love it. It’s only five minutes long and I don’t think it’ll mean that much to anyone else, but we find it hilarious. Sarah keeps coming into my room and asking to replay the first ten seconds because we’re just so stupid (but we think we’re hysterical.)

And I sent it to a few friends because I thought it might make them smile or laugh because they actually know us, and it got me thinking about this whole YouTube thing. My favorite videos to make are with Sarah, but I think the people that would enjoy watching them the most don’t even know that we do this sometimes.

And I find myself trying to censor myself on there and on here and just in different ways everywhere I go. And something I just think FUCK it. Maybe one of these days I’ll just post my blog url in the bio of my twitter or casually share a video of mine on Facebook. Because so what if I say a few cuss words? So what if sometimes I want to talk about mental health? So what if I feel like starting a blog or a YouTube channel or, who knows, maybe Vine will be next!

We’re all going to die one day and we have until then to do everything we wanted to do and say everything we wanted to say and go everywhere we wanted to go and love as much as we can and try everything under the sun.

So what if I say “fuck” on a personal blog when I’m 19? Will that really affect my ability to teach high schoolers after I graduate? Will it keep me from being seen as a role model to those who are younger than me? Will it, in any way, turn my heart black and prevent me from spreading any kindness or love?

I don’t know. Maybe to someone out there it will. And maybe I’ll never tell my parents that this thing even exists.

This really wasn’t what I had intended to write about tonight, but I guess it just kind of got away from me.




PS. Here’s a preview of the video I’ll be uploading this week.

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PPS. It’s up now. 


Dear Reader,

I’m going to try to make this quick because if I write down all the thoughts in my head, it’ll get real deep, real fast, and we don’t have time for that. So I’ll summarize.

First, I have two blogs I just need to mention because they’re written by two very good friends of mine and I’m low-key obsessed with them so I feel weird that I haven’t mentioned them before. But on NYE I asked them if it would be okay if I “promote” them (I guess you could call this) and they said yes so hopefully they remember this and say it’s okay that I’m doing this.

Sad Spotify Playlists is written by my friend Zach and is great for the most ludicrous stories as well as deep thoughts and, uh, vlogs now I guess? (lol)

And Horizon Wanderer is beautifully written by my friend Maddie. In fact, it was one of her most recent blogposts (linked here) that made me want to write this one. I honestly felt like someone was narrating my life–or, rather, transcribing my inner monologue into something worthy of being read.

I mean, THIS: “Casual conversation is a thicket of thorny possible missteps because somewhere along the way I became so concerned with what other people think of me.”

No matter how many times I’ve tried to put that same sentiment into words, I’ve never found the right way to say it.

But anyway, I’ll write (much) more on those two later, but they deserve to be in the update.

Second, NYE was great, in case I haven’t mentioned. Again, I’ll write more on that later, but I just had to throw that in here because those two made up half of the wonderful entourage that invited me to ring in the new year with them and it’s just setting up 2016 to be amazing.

Third, I just saw Sisters with Sarah (typical) and it was hilarious and awesome because the entire time we would just lean over to each other and either say “me” or “you” and then we’d laugh at ourselves.

(Also, in case you haven’t seen the movie, I am Tina Fey who is irresponsible and messes everything up but still refuses to take 100% of the blame because, like, come on, things are hardly never 100% one person’s fault. And Sarah is Amy Poehler who is hilariously and hopelessly awkward with boys and weirdly loves and communicates with her parents even when she is 40. This is accurate representation.)

Fourth, I’ve been writing weird pseudo poems and little things that I might start posting on here but hardly any of them really truly relate to my life so people who actually know me, don’t be alarmed/weirded out/I don’t know what you think of me.

Fifth, I’ve been instagramming a lot more recently which is really not a big deal or deserves to be mentioned, but this means that I am actually taking pictures. And yes I’m also using HELLA filters, but we’re making steps in the right direction so that’s positive.

Sixth, I REALLY want to dye my hair blue (I know I talked about this a year ago, but it’s resurfacing.)

Like this:


More on than later. (I’ll probably make another “If We Were Having Coffee” post soon.)

Seventh, The Happiness Project is in full swing, people! I think it’s gonna be a good.

Okay, I think seven is a good number to stop on. (Worked for Rowling, right?)

Have a nice night, everybody.




Dear Reader

The other night I went to a “Friends Christmas.” I was invited last minute because it’s a group of people I’ve been recently growing closer to, but I was so touched to have even been thought of. I watched them open the meaningful, hilarious, and overall very thoughtful gifts they got for one another and absolutely loved it. And the friend who invited me even bought me a gift of my own, just so I didn’t have to sit there with nothing to open (even though I insisted that I didn’t mind).

And this holiday season, I’ve thought a lot about how weird Christmas is. How weird it is that my house has three fake trees in various rooms, covered in lights and tinsel and ornaments that were poorly made by us kids years ago. how weird it is that we have music playing 24/7 these days and, even weirder, it’s songs that are almost inappropriate to play during the other eleven months of the year. And how weird it is that everyone celebrates this holiday.

I mean, look at me. I’m from a family that very rarely discusses religion and hasn’t gone to church in years, yet every year, I celebrate this holiday three times. Once on December 25th with my immediate family. Once with my dad and his siblings and their kids (and now their kids) a few days laters. And once sometime after that with our big extended family.

And I completely understand why religious people can get a little irritated around this time of the year when the true meaning behind this holiday is so often forgotten. And I also understand that it has simply evolved from the time when nations, like the US, were founded on one religion to a time like today where families that practice Hinduism and Judaism and even atheists still celebrate this holiday. Because that’s just what you do. On December 25th you celebrate Christmas, even if you don’t accept Jesus Christ as your savior.

So, yeah, Christmas is a little weird (and I know religion can be a touchy subject), but I kind of love it.

Because every year, I get a family reunion. Every year we get a reason to come home. We get a reason to travel and be with loved ones and all meet in one place and, as I grow up, I realize how hard this may become in the future.

But every year we get an excuse. An excuse to splurge on gifts for your friends and family. An excuse to take a day off of work and school and go home. And you don’t even have to be religious.

Screen Shot 2015-12-20 at 5.59.16 PM.png

Because of Christmas, I have memories with my family that I’ll never forget. I have stories of my cousins and I wreaking havoc at every hotel we went to because we kept getting kicked out of the one that hosted us the year before. Because of Christmas, I got that night with friends that meant so much to me.

Every year I have butterflies on December 24th because I can’t sleep. And sure, it used to be because I was thinking about Santa and what presents I might open the next morning, but it’s changed as I’ve grown. And now I feel like I have butterflies during the entire holiday season. Because even though life isn’t perfect right now–even though I’m still dealing with things and stressing out a lot–even though my family’s not perfect and can be difficult to handle sometimes, everything’s okay. It’s not, but it is.

It’s like Christmas. Christmas is so weird. And it’s not–it’s all normalized now–but it is.

Have I lost you? I feel like this post was making sense up until this point, but that’s alright. I just wanted to talk about how much I love Christmas and I wanted to express how grateful I am for it this year, because it’s coming at a time when I need it the most. Everything seems to just be better, when not that much is changing at all.

And I think that’s part of the magic of Christmas.




Dear Reader,

Last week I spent way too much time editing and uploading this video of me discussing the 20 books I’ve read so far in 2015 (I’m having a hard time mastering YouTube lol I h8 technology).

Because it’s fifteen minutes long, I don’t expect many people to take the time to watch it, which is why I linked all of my reviews in the description of the video. But, just in case, I thought I would link the video on my blog as well.




PS. Let me know your favorite books from the year/of all time because all I’m asking for for Christmas this year are books and I’m running out of names to give my family members.

PPS. Is it bad that the majority of my family (myself included) hasn’t started our Christmas shopping yet?