Dear Reader,

It’s finals week here at Miami and all of my friends are finding new and creative ways to be unproductive. (I walked in on five of my friends playing on Webkinz at midnight yesterday.) But I normally stick to the basics: BuzzFeed, Facebook, YouTube.

large.jpgAll of these are plenty distracting for me, but they also bring me a few of my favorite things–things that I want to share with all of you. So the following are a few links that either made me laugh or smile or do some deep thinking or whatever. I hope you enjoy.


This is obviously first because IT IS SO IMPORTANT. I sincerely hope that this article doesn’t personally speak to anyone reading my blog (I’d like to think that we all happily ship Ron and Hermoine), but just in case, I need you to take a hard look at #28 (if nothing else):

“The idea of Hermione ending up with Harry is so terrible that it is literally the result of the most evil magic ever. Literally. Do you REALLY want to support the same ‘ship as LORD VOLDEMORT?”

So I’ll just leave this here.


How can you not click on a title like that?

But seriously, I love how Bill Nye was this huge character in our lives (and science classes) growing up, and now he’s just this chill af guy dropping truth bombs backed with scientific facts wherever he goes.


So I love Shia LaBeouf. I think he is a fascinating and complicated little weirdo and I love everything from Rob Cantor’s “Shia LaBeouf” to Sia’s “Elastic Heart” music video. And I guess some people didn’t know this, but he recently watched all of his movies in a marathon that began with his most recent. I checked in on this a few times (had it in a separate tab during most of my studies) over the three days, but now that it’s over, there are various recaps circulating the internet. I highly recommend checking them out:




I read this article at least a year ago, but I still find myself thinking about it every once in a while. It still kind of hurts to go through the pictures, even though I didn’t know this man. But it’s an interesting thing–this project he did. It’s definitely worth checking out.


I STILL DON’T UNDERSTAND HOW SOME PEOPLE HAVE NOT SEEN THIS VIDEO. I’ve referred to this video, on multiple occasions, as my favorite video on the internet. I stand by that statement.

So those are the random links that I’ve thought about making blog posts about before but I never have. Though I guess this counts.

I hope you enjoy, and I hope you have places of the internet where you can turn when you need to smile or think or reflect. And I hope some of those places lead you down dark, dusty tunnels of the internet that lead you to gifs of Shia LaBeouf laughing at himself.





He tried so hard when he finally had a daughter, just in case the gene that carried his intelligence didn’t transfer. He taught her algebra when she was still able to use her fingers to give her age. He only allowed her to play educational games on the computer. He quizzed her endlessly in the car on things like energy and the four forms they come in.

And she was picking it up.

She excelled at the tests he gave her, even though they were meant for kids older than herself. She understood the metaphors he used. She was even creative enough to make her own sometimes.

He had tried so hard, and he succeeded. Because in fourth grade, she tested at an advanced level and had finally owned up to the term that had been used to describe her for five years: gifted.

And it makes sense, because a gift is something that is given to you. A gift is not something you ask for. She didn’t ask for the lectures after soccer practice or the tab on the computer that marked the educational, “Dad-approved” websites. She didn’t ask to be put in a primarily fifth grade classroom when she had just turned nine.

In fact, she was almost kicked out of that class because she never did her homework. We’re not sure why, but she just never did. So she fell behind in math–she didn’t know anything about fractions. And one day, the principal was called in and she sat down the girl and her teacher and talked about how fortunate she is to be in this class and how there are other bright children who would gladly take her place and work hard to keep it. She warned her that if she didn’t get her act together, she could get kicked out.

But the girl was never kicked out.

She went onto sixth grade excels and didn’t read any of “Treasure Planet,” but still managed to pass the class. And in eighth grade, she would copy her friend’s science homework every morning in homeroom. She’d do just fine on the tests and would end up passing that class too.

In fact, she’s never failed a class. She skated by time after time despite her poor time management skills and awful problems with procrastination and lack of motivation. How she did it? We’re not quite sure. Maybe it’s because she’s gifted. Maybe it’s because her father tried so hard. The day she learned to speak was the day he taught her to read. Just like the day she touched a soccer ball was the day she joined travel soccer.

But she ended up quitting soccer after ten years.

And now she wants to quit school, too.

Because you can mold a young mind into memorizing multiplication tables and understanding the metaphor of a firecracker when it comes to the four different types of energy, sure. But you can’t stop there. You can’t work hard(ish) with her for the first nine years of her life and then assume that she’ll be okay.

Because she won’t be.

Sure, you can tell her time and time again that she needs to “get her act together” and “own up to her potential.” After all, she is gifted.

You have the tests to prove it.

You even have her high school diploma, with the golden sticker that tells you she graduated with honors, probably hanging in your office somewhere.

But she never read The Scarlet Letter. She never really tried to learn trigonometry. She probably never even opened her ginormous textbook for AP Biology.

And she knows this is all her fault. She’ll always place all the blame on herself, and just chalk it up to another personality trait of hers that she absolutely despises. Another piece of the puzzle that is her self-loathing.

But don’t think she won’t remember. Don’t think she won’t wonder. What if there had been more structure when she got her first C in history? 

6e346b3e542ae665449ee4e5af3420b8.jpgWhat if she had more help with her homework when she got home from school–help that didn’t end in a yelling match and tears.

What if her parents were at that meeting when she was nine?

What if she never aced that test–the one that marked her as “accelerated.”

What if my father didn’t try so hard to make sure I was gifted.


Dear Reader,

I’ve probably written about 5 things this week that could constitute as blog posts, but I keep thinking “stop! what are you doing? this is a happy blog! this is a place where you appreciate the good, not harp on the bad!” But I just don’t think that’s the truth anymore. Maybe I’ve just tried to protect myself from the repercussions of exposing the truth of how I’ve been feeling (for quite a while, actually), but I don’t think I can do that any longer.

So let me tell you about my day.

I woke up at 3AM on Thursday morning and cried for over an hour. I cried over things I couldn’t control and I cried about the parts of myself that I hate and I cried because I’ve been bottling it in for so long.

And these random mantras kept repeating over and over in my head, I think as a way for me to try and calm myself down. I just started thinking, crying about this isn’t going to get better. There’s no use in doing this. This won’t get better tonight.

This won’t get better tonight.

This won’t get better tonight.

This won’t get better.

I woke up a few hours later (huzzah for 8:30s) and noticed that my left eyelid was swollen and a little blue and my eye wasn’t able to open fully.

I think I actually managed to pop a blood vessel because of how hard I cried last night.

But I put on some sweats and tie up my greasy hair in a hair tie and head to my 8:30, looking and feeling like less than a person. But class was fine and I was actually invested in the conversation as we discussed the possible relation between Ophelia from Hamlet and Emilia from Two Noble Kinsmen. Then I started to get a bad feeling.

I thought it was just menstrual cramps or something. They’d never been that bad, but I didn’t know what else would explain the stomach ache and nausea. I tried to manage the pain but it kept growing, so I left the class to go to the bathroom and presumably throw up.

I burst through the door and immediately saw stars.

For those who don’t know, I have a tachycardia syndrome (heart condition type thing) that basically means I’m in more danger of fainting than the normal human being and have to watch my diet and fill it with plenty of water and sodium.

So I run into the last stall and lock the door behind me before collapsing on the ground. My first thought was to call 911 (dramatic, I know, and problematic for so many reasons), but I called my close friend, Kassara, instead. She doesn’t answer, but texts “what’s up? I’m in class. I can go in the hall if it’s an emergency.” I respond. “I’m sorry. Please. Can you please.”

And then my phone dies on 63%.

This all has happened in about 20 seconds and I’m on the floor in this nasty bathroom crying, but I think it’s at this point that I realize that I am having a panic attack. And that I’m alone.

All I can say is thank goodness no one came in the bathroom because I can’t remember the last time I sobbed that hard–ugly and audibly. (Usually it’s repressed, like last night when I was in across from my sleeping roommate.) But I managed to calm myself down somehow and ended up with my head by the toilet and my legs up on the stall door so the blood could flow back to my head.

I was just laying there, staring directly at the dim lights of the nasty bachelor hall bathroom, thinking, “this is what my life has become. unannounced panic attacks and episodes of near fainting.”

It’s a strange thing to feel your tears stream up your face and run into your eyebrows.

My phone turned on about fifteen minutes after it had “died” (my phone is so jank, it’s ridiculous), and Kassara ended up coming to my rescue.

Seriously, I cannot say enough nice things about this girl. She is the absolute best in these situations. She knew exactly what to say, she brought me water and bought me chips, and she made me feel so good as I sobbed to her about all I’ve been thinking about lately.

We both decided it was time for my parents to know what’s been going on.

I had this note written out from the night before that I hadn’t intended on them seeing for a while, but I guess life just doesn’t happen the way you expect it to, does it?

I first sent the screenshots to my mom, and then she ended up talking to my dad about it tonight. They’re both being amazing and supportive and I’m really lucky to have two parents who care and a friend like Kassara. And I’m lucky to be at Miami and I’m lucky to be a part of Phi Mu and I’m lucky for my health and I’m lucky for my finances and I just know it could be a lot worse. Everything could be so much worse, so I don’t know why I’m having such a hard time handling my life as it is right now.

But that’s how my day went. I really hope yours was better. And I hope my tomorrow will be better too.

I think it will.

Now I’m going to actually get some sleep tonight so I can take my geography exam tomorrow with a well-rested brain. And hopefully I won’t cry in front of my professor–though it wouldn’t be the first time. It’s just that I can’t remember the last day I’ve gone without crying.

So maybe it’ll be tomorrow.



WHEN IN DOUBT, BLOG IT OUT (and thank you for 300!!!)

Dear Reader,

My friend tweeted that yesterday and I loved it. I really hesitate before posting certain entries on here if they’re about anything too serious or if I might come across in a not-too-flattering light. A lot of people I know in real life follow this blog and I never want to worry them with things I say on here, but I also don’t want to censor myself too much.

The truth of the matter is that I have been experiencing a lot of new emotions lately–or at least amplified emotions. I’ve been dealing with things that I’m not used to and I’ve even sought out therapy because of it. But, in all honesty, this is my therapy. This is the best therapy I have. Putting my thoughts down on (virtual) paper actually helps, and talking about it to people on the internet is surprisingly helpful.

And now there are 300 of you.

300 people have decided to follow this blog and get notified when I decide to try and work through these new thoughts and terrifying revelations I have. But I also share a lot of the good. Actually, I like to think that most of my blog posts are pretty upbeat and happy, or are things that I’m really excited to share.

Anyway, that’s why I wrote this post. Because when in doubt, I blog it out, and I’m really happy to have 300 people to share parts of my life with.

Have a happy Monday!




We all like to think that we’re destined for great things.

We all see our future as brighter than our present

and we long for the days to come

because we like to think that they’re better than the days we’re having now.

I mean

we certainly don’t think they’ll be worse.


How can they be worse?

But we look to the future with dumb optimism.

We see things better than reality

because we compare ourselves to people we can’t become.

We see ourselves as better than average.

We all do.

But that, in itself, is flawed.

We cannot all be above average.

It is impossible.

And I’m starting to realize

more and more

how unfortunately average I am.

And I don’t know how to be okay with it

because I was raised to believe I was better.


Dear Reader,

I realized today that I never really linked to the video I posted yesterday so here it is:

If you want to see the first time I did a thing, you can click here (or watch there vvv)

And, of course, if you want to see a better explanation/introduction, you can read my post from yesterday here.

Well, that’s it! I hope everyone has a beautiful Saturday.

Smile–it’s the weekend.




Dear Reader,

I’ve known for a while that this one-year mark was approaching, but it seems weird that it’s finally here. Especially since I haven’t been on WordPress or Bloglovin or really anything in a while. And a big reason for that is because lately I’ve felt stuck. Ideas for blog posts will come to me, and some I’ll start writing out to see where they go, but they always leave me with the same feeling. And the same questions.

Why am I sharing this?

And why am I here?

I mean, who is reading this anyway?

And sure, some of that stems from my problems with self confidence. When you see yourself in a poor light, it can be downright mind-boggling that anyone gives so much as five minutes from their day just to read something you feel inclined to share with the internet. Especially when there is so much going on! Just on this website alone, I’ve felt that my content doesn’t really match that of my peers. But going against the whole internet, you start to wonder why anyone would click on your  book reviews and random findings and rambling reflections of my life when there are real people doing really cool things. You start to think, why am I sharing this anyway?

Still, I sat down to write a 1-year blogiversary post mostly because it would just feel wrong not to. And it brought me back to the beginning. One year ago me, sitting at this very same computer, talking about what kind of character I want to be in this story that I’m writing.

And while this story has a long way to go, and this character has a lot (lot) more developing to do, things are happening. Changes are occurring. And I’m excited to continue and share them on here, because I do have answers to those questions. I’m here for me. I am using this blog to grow and learn more about myself and share my findings. And who’s reading this? Sure, my friends. My sister. Strangers on the internet. But who cares? That’s just a bonus–the likes and comments and socializing with people who I’d never have a chance to interact with otherwise. But it’s a pretty big bonus. There are some freicken cool people on this website, and I’m glad I get the chance to be among them, even in the smallest of ways.

So what is this post? A babbling mess? An excuse for why I haven’t been posting lately? A birthday present to my blog? Maybe it’s all of that, and maybe it’s nothing. Maybe I’ll hit “publish” and no one will read it and I’ll never look at it again, but that’s fine. Like I said, I’m learning more about myself through this weird website, and sometimes I just need to word vomit onto a page of the internet.

But that’s just me. And for a year now, WordPress has allowed me to do just that.

So maybe it’s clear now that this little corner of the internet doesn’t exactly showcase the best writing of our generation. Or make the most remarkable revelations or insights. Or even stay updated on a regular basis. But it’s here, and I’m glad. Because it won’t be going anywhere for a long time.




Sorry if this doesn’t live up to the unexpected hype.

Inspired by this article: http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/danielle-montgomery/eating-disorders_b_6636502.html

  1. I envy you for being able to fill up Facebook albums with good picture after good picture, when I spend my days untagging myself and hiding photos on my timeline.
  2. I don’t hate pictures. I hate myself.
  3. I wish I could jump in front of the camera as easily as you. I really do.
  4. I’m sorry that I cancel on you so much but some days I feel too hideous to leave my room.
  5. I don’t ever do this for attention. I don’t call myself ugly or fat to try and fish for compliments.
  6. In fact, some days I hate your compliments. I don’t know how to react. I can’t just accept it and move on when I know it’s not the truth.
  7. More than anything do I wish I could just believe you when you tell me I’m pretty or thin, but I can’t help but think that you’re lying. There’s no way you’re seeing something different than what I see in the mirror.
  8. And let me tell you: the mirror changes everything. I could be having a great day, but then I’ll pass by a window or a bus will drive by and I’ll catch some sort of reflection.
  9. I’m happiest when I can completely forget what I look like.
  10. I can’t stop myself from constantly comparing myself to those around me.
  11. I know beauty isn’t everything. Believe me, sometimes I hate my personality even more than the way I look. My self esteem issues aren’t just skin-deep.
  12. I also know that beauty is important. And when I’m standing around talking to no one when all the girls around me are chatting up someone cute, the first thing I blame is the way I look.
  13. It’s also the first thing I blame when I reflect upon the lack of interest guys express towards me.
  14. I hate being insecure. I don’t believe it’s cute or naive or humble that I don’t think I’m beautiful. I know that it’s weak and stupid and it’s just another thing I hate about myself.
  15. I have a list of physical features I despise about myself. And every time you make a comment about one of them, it’s burned into my brain.
  16. Trust me, I didn’t discover my cankles or knock knees or flat feet or weird hairline on my own. Someone pointed each of these out to me.
  17. That being said, new discoveries are now fairly easy for me to make, all by myself.
  18. Trust me, if I thought going to group or talking about it would help, I would.
  19. But for the record, I don’t think it would. The only solution I can possibly think of involves changing almost everything about me.
  20. I will never expect you to understand me and why I feel like this as I don’t think I even understand myself.


Dear Reader,

I don’t know about many of you, but for me, blogging is this weird but wonderful outlet where I can be creative and reflective, but still social and interactive. In that way, it’s different than a journal, but it still has many qualities of one.

My friend Ashley (CollegewithAshley) and I were talking about this the other day and, while we both agreed we’d probably never be the people to share our blog posts on our Facebook pages, we have to admit that our writing isn’t necessarily private.

And I guess it never really had that intent. The first people I told were close friends from home, and I told them it was a secret. It even took a month before I told Sarah. But now I find myself casually bringing it up in conversation and sending a link to my sorority sisters. And Ashley’s parents read hers, which is a day my blog may never see.

So it’s true: this is the censored version of me. The one who never cusses and tries to cut herself off around 500 words. (You should see my journal–I ramble on aimlessly for pages and it’s a rare day when I don’t drop the F-bomb. )

So why am I telling you this?

Specifically, because of what I’m going to post tomorrow.

I am very unsure of who I am, but I try to use my writing to help me. Writing brings me clarity. It helps me understand and explain my often misunderstood thoughts. It’s often hard for me to voice exactly how I feel, but when I’m writing, things are easier.

So tomorrow I will be posting a list of things I wish I could tell people. A list that I wrote in February after reading this article, but never posted because I thought of the people that would inevitably read it. Of Jaden and Kassara and Ashley and my sister and who knows who else.

But when it comes down to it, this list was one of the most reflective things I’ve done, and I’d like to share it. I’d like to be able to tell my closest friends things I’m only now admitting to myself and I’d like to share it with strangers on the internet who might just feel the same way.

I don’t know, maybe this’ll all make more sense when I post the list. Maybe you’ll know then why it scares me so much to publish this entry and the next. Because I’m so terrified of being this vulnerable. Because I’m so scared of even the people closest to me seeing who I really am. How I really think.

But I guess there’s no going back now.




Dear Reader,

Hey remember a few weeks ago when I said that I had a really bad week but I wanted to focus on the good because I probably wouldn’t remember the little details if I recorded them? Well, this week was worse, so let’s do that again!

Good thing #1 of week six is this: I JOINED PHI MU!!!

phi mu

I’ve talked about rush a little bit here and there, and there will be an entirely separate post about it later, but I could not be happier to be a phi mu! I was really worried because I could see myself fitting in any of the last three sororities, but I couldn’t go to their last events because I was so sick on Saturday (one of the bad things, so we’re just going to skip over details).

But bid day was fantastic! I feel right at home and really lucky that I chose phi mu, because I fit in a lot more than I thought I would. And these girls are so friendly, and I’m already so inspired by a lot of them! I just can’t wait to see what my future will become with this amazing group of women. 🙂


Yeah and then the rest of my week definitely had good moments, but a lot of it was just really bad. It’s just crazy how much of a rollercoaster my emotions are on in college. I mean, I had some moments of true happiness this week, but then I would just think about something and I’d go right back down.

That’s actually what a lot of it was–just me in my own head. And the hardest part was that my computer was dead for a few days so I couldn’t write about it–not that I would necessarily blog about it, but I have a private journal that I’ve been writing in for seven years now, and it just helps me through things. I like writing for clarity. So it was just hard not having that this week when I really needed to sort stuff out. (I tried to on pen and paper but it was just not happening)

But I had some productive, though sleepless nights.


And I checked off another item on my bucket list because of it! (I watched the sunrise, but the best pictures I took were still when it was pretty dark out so here ya go)

unnamed unnamed-1unnamed-2

And I’ve decided I want to dye my hair blue! So either this


Or this


So yeah. Big things are happening here in Ohio. There’s always something to look forward to.