Lack-of-Inspiration-ism

Dearest Readers,

I haven’t updated this blog in literally years (it’s actually been mildly amusing to re-read things written by my naïve freshman self), but I needed a forum to vent and post my thoughts. So that’s the only explanation I have.

Some days you wonder what you are doing it all for. Not like I-want-to-end-my-life-what-am-I-living-for, but more of a what am I doing that is going to have any impact? Am I doing what I am passionate about? Who am I really?

And let me tell you, that makes me even less inclined to study for my political science final. Not that I don’t think law and sexuality is relevant, I actually think it is one of the most relevant classes I’ve taken, but what am I going to do with it? How am I going to apply what I have learned in these years of college to do something to improve the world?

Junior year of college is like that, I guess. You come in as a freshman with big ambitions, and then you realize that though they may be attainable, it comes at a cost. Sure, you can spend all of your free time working at a publication, but would you like to have friends, a social life or a significant other? If so, you may want to rethink that bold professional choice.

This is the year I have spent the most time contemplating life beyond college. It’s not that I am scared of the job market or anything (though I probably should be), it’s that I have been questioning how I will make the most out of my time in my early 20s. Those are the years when I can afford to be selfish in my career pursuits. I don’t have to worry about a family that needs my fiscal support.

But the 20s do set the stage for the rest of my life. Should I be thinking grad school, or should I take time off? Should I be considering law school, or do I even like law? How much do I actually love journalism, and what about my other dreams?
What I suffer from is lack-of-inspiration-ism. I am spending all this time trying to receive As in my classes, but how is that actually going to serve me later in life? I sacrifice sleep and more dedication to student organizations to do well in class, but are academics getting in the way of what I really want to do? But that begs the question, what is it I really want to do?

I don’t know why I am currently suffering from these existential musings. I don’t think that they are unique to just me; I know for a fact many friends are going through the same things. It just seems that these thoughts are going to matter more soon. I am proud of the person I have become in college and the things I have pursued, but I am feeling more pressure to figure out big kid things. I need to decide what I want to be when I grow up, because I’m almost to the point where I have to push off and do just that: grow up, outside of the cocoon of academics.

What have other people done to combat this? Have you sat down with someone you trust? Have you read some really awesome book? I would love random pieces of advice.

Sincerely,

Adorkable ... who's older now

A Way With Words

Dearest Readers,

Today, words were easy. Do you know what I mean? As a writer, I am a firm believer that some days I really am better with words than others. Most days, I struggle to see the sentence ahead, and it’s an ongoing struggle to extract intelligent and coherent words from my unfocused mind. However, once in a great while, words are brimming in my brain. I want to use words like taciturn and frivolous and verisimilitude. How can I work them into a sentence on my asinine homework assignment? It’s like having all these tools suddenly at your finger tips, and you are itching to use them to their upmost.

I don’t understand the impetus for these “good writing days.” Is my brain running on something more, am I in a better mood, am I reading more intelligent, verbose works? I wish I knew how to harness these days and use them to my advantage. Today, I have no major writing assignments, but I have 3 stories due later this week. Could I bottle up this way with words and use it later? Please? Maybe words work today simply because I have nothing I am supposed to write about at the moment.

One of my favorite feelings is finding out it’s a “good writing day.” It happens accidentally. You go to form a sentence, and it’s so effortless. Your brain is chugging along merrily, and the homework you dread to write seems to slide from your keyboard onto the page. I just realized this could be one of the nerdier topics I’ve traversed in this blog, but if you, oh brave reader, are a writer, then you know what I mean. I don’t know if it’s universal. Maybe scientists have days when chemistry is a breeze or doctors think diagnosing is a snap. Or maybe it’s just writers; Writers whose brains are begging to be put to use through a well-structured sentence and an accurately assigned adjective. (Look at that ace alliteration!)

Author-itively,

Adorkable

ps. The picture is just my favorite image ever (since truer words were never spoken) and is only partially related to my post.

Steeler Nation: Growing up Pittsburgh

Dearest Readers
I returned to my illustrious home city this weekend, and decided it’s high time I described the beauty of Steeler Sunday (especially after we defeated the Raiders…well done).
Here is my image of Sundays in Pittsburgh: It’s that day of the week where it’s no longer weekend, and it’s just on the cusp of the week. Churchgoers head to mass and return to change from dress clothes to jerseys. The tortilla chips are set out beside the salsa and the cheese dip. Crowds gather and everyone sits in their assigned seat (it’s a superstitious time). The terrible towels come out. Businesses close, and it’s game on. The Steelers will win, and if not, well then, it was the refs fault, right?
Now, just to give it to you straight, this post is coming from a girl who hates sports on every level. I don’t like to watch them, and I hate even more to play them. (The whole concept of throwing and catching just involves too much hand-eye-coordination for me to handle, thank you very much.) However, when you grow up in Pittsburgh, you are a Steelers fan, period. Black and gold bedecks the town, because it’s the lifeblood of our city. It’s about pride thing and camaraderie. We all rally, one city, under the Rooneys, Steelers fans for life.
I don’t know quite what it is about the team. Obviously, it helps that we have done well in recent years. My marching band (yes, I was in the Marching Band….remember that thing about no hand eye coordination?) played in the parade my freshman year when the Steelers won their fifth superbowl. The city was in an uproar, and the crowd was so huge they moshed us. My valuable clarinet was almost stolen on multiple occasions. Then, they won again my senior year, and my friends and I skipped school to see the parade. We were frigid, and we went so far as to hoist our smallest bestie onto a streetlight for better visibility. We all lost our voices screaming for the legendary Steelers, and the Principal even marked it as an excused absence. That’s how much we love our team.
But success isn’t the only reason Pittsburghers love the Steelers, the games are also an excuse to get together. Throughout my highschool career, I knew most weekends I would hang out with my friends once on Friday, once on Saturday, and then once on Sunday for the game. It’s a social event. When I watch with my family, my mom yells at the scream vehemently, my step-dad has given up trying to explain that they can’t hear her, and my brother obsessively checks his fantasy team. It’s a bonding time.
Now, I don’t always make it through the whole game (I know what a travesty!), but being a Steelers fan is not just about watching the game, it’s about the passion. It’s about wearing the jerseys, and learning all the lyrics to “Here We Go Steelers,” and bleeding black and gold. It’s not a sports team in my town, it’s a lifestyle.
Polamalu-ily yours,
Adorkable

ps. this image comes from here

pps. I have been tumbling TWICE A DAY (I know, right?!).....so maybe you should check it out....playedwithchalk.tumblr.com

Happy Girls Are Prettiest

Dearest Readers,
These past few weeks have been a hot mess of exams and general shenaniganry...however,it is finally starting to slow down in the lull between midterms and finals. (once finals hit, I will be lucky to see my room for longer than the 6 hours a day I am sleeping.) My past few weeks can be summed up by this little poetic moment I had a week or so ago:
What a decadent fall night, she thought from her perch by the library window. She sighed woefully, pushing her hesitant pencil forward to complete the task at hand. She shifted her eyes back to the page, but her mind…her mind danced with the leaves.
(I know...I know...I could be the next robert frost...bahaha...)
But seriously, I feel like I have been trapped indoors as the leaves have gushed gorgeous autumn-y shades, so I have been toiling to find personal inspiration during this time. These are inspirations I have found on other blogs lately, and feel like they are worth sharing, so that one of these may brighten your day, as they have so oft brightened mine!



This comes from a new fave blog called: ache....it's super presh...despite the sort of depressing sounding name. This just made me giggle, because it pretty accurately depicts how I try to live.




This just conjures images of people laying amongst the leaves and pointing to everything beautiful...how can that not make you smile...right now the beautiful thing I can see is my pumpkin franklin who is miraculously still alive sitting on my desk! (remember, faithful readers, that I got franklin at the Paw Paw festival a few weeks ago) well he is alive and well...my fab pal. and all the credit for this pic goes to the Words I Love web page...that I currently love myself (see how I made a joke there...i love words i love...heh heh heh).


This is a print available from The Black Apple's Etsy. If you are not already an etsy afficionado, which you should be, the website sells all handmade art work. It is so fun to explore....or to distract you from the homework you probably should be doing. But as I have been spending all my spare time reading Harry Potter, this suits me pretty well.



How sick is this bike??!! I want it right now....and I want it blow bubbles out the back while I'm at it. This picture comes from a flickr collection by intrepidacious. I just think this is so creative, and hilarious when juxtaposed against the construction sight behind it.

Well those are all the images I have for now, but I decided I am going to continue collecting and sharing images on a tumblr (a type of blog this is more conducive to sharing pictures)...and my tumblr is called The Girl Who Played With Chalk (pretty clever...right?). It has all these images and more, because I want this blog to be focused on words for now. I hope these fun interwebs images have inspired you a bit, or lead you to more pictures that you like (that's how I found these). In my own real life, I have been inspired by seeing my little brother's first homecoming (gush!), the changing fall leaves, playing in pumpkin patches, and looking forward to my trip this weekend to....THE RALLY TO RESTORE SANITY AND/OR FEAR!! How sick is that going to be (though I will miss Athens halloween...but really, it's okay in the name of Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert.) Moral of the story is: get inspired and keep finding ways to inspire yourself as the seasons change and you are trapped more and more indoors.

Hope you all are doing well this fine and fabulous fall day!

Happily,
Adorkable

ps. new blog name possibility: the girl who played with chalk...thoughts?

Harry Potter: My Anti-Drug

Dearest Readers,
I am a Harry Potter-aholic. I admit it plainly. They are the series that I have and will reread dozens of times like a drug addict and with the same fervor I experienced upon first reading. I will get lost in the Quidditch matches, the trips to Hogsmeade, the duels with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and the anticipation of Ron and Hermoine (the ultimate couple!). In the past week, I reread the entire 870 pages of the fifth book. (This disturbs me and should disturb you, imagine if I devoted this time to other things…I would accomplish so much!)
For those of you who don’t love the HP (you are wrong, btw), this post still applies to you. Because this post’s not really about HP, it’s about the fact that we all have habits for our own sanity; Actions we have to do by ourselves in order to continue interacting with the outside world without being grumpy. Some paint. Others dance. I read (at this time, Harry Potter). Reading is this form of catharsis for me. As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, I find myself enchanted by books, and completely lose contact with reality. It’s glorious.
The reason Harry Potter is so specifically gripping is hard to pin-point. As many have pointed out, it’s not like they are the most well-written books of all time. (Though she vastly improves as the series continues.) It’s the characters. They are so full of life, as are the settings and plots. I want to fly and fight and attend a school where the paintings talk and the staircases move. I just have this strong desire to be there, to live as they do. Why am I grabbed by this fantastical and unrealistic passion? I wish I could tell you.
These books also represent my childhood. My parents read them to me before they were popular after my dad’s friend from work recommended them (I think I was in 3rd grade at the time). I quickly became frustrated with waiting until each evening to hear the story, and started reading them on my own. They gripped me like no other book ever has in my life (and I am a bookworm to the max…I mean seriously, I go by the pseudo-name Adorkable). I have been to every midnight book release and every midnight movie premiere. When I finished the last book, I cried (I’m not ashamed to admit this), because it was like an end to era of my own life. (When the movies are over, I will cry again for sure.) These characters carried me through the shaky middle school years and the steadily growing self-esteem of high school years and follow me as I try to find my way through college. They ground me (which is ironic considering I feel like they take me somewhere far away). They serve as a constant and a solstice. I know it must sound bizarre to those who do not know the pages of these Hogwarts-based novels, but everyone has that activity that they do in their spare time that makes them feel like they have taken a breath of fresh air and makes the load on their shoulders a little lighter. (I could make commercials: Harry Potter: My Anti-Drug…tee hee, I bet those would go over well.)
Overall, I want everyone to reconnect with their soothing measures. (Try to keep it from getting out of control….870 pages in a week is a bit much to be honest.) But I think that we stray from these activities when we are stressed or we are embarrassed (I can’t tell you the number of times I have felt weird when my roommate walks in and I look like a lazy bum just plopped on my bed reading a lil’ HP). But it’s what I do for me. It’s my fun and fabulous me time.
Oh and just to be clear, one day my Hogwarts letter will come, I just know it…Accio Letter!
Wizard-ily,
Adorkable
ps. picture cred goes to bea mondonedo on flickr...gorgeous photo

Paw Paw Paraphernalia...or How I am Taking Control as a Sophomore

Dearest Readers,
I am officially a sophomore now. It doesn’t feel right to say quite yet. Like when you’re 19, but you have said for a year that you are 18 … and you keep thinking that every time you say you’re 19, you’re lying. The first time I had to introduce myself to a group of incoming freshman this year, I accidentally said I was a freshman too. Classic me.
So I guess I am supposed to feel older and wiser now…full of sage knowledge to pass on to freshman passersby. I guess this isn’t true. In fact, the best advice I have to give a freshman is to take no one’s advice. You are going to have to figure your way out here in college, so you are making the choices. Even when you act totally out of character because it’s the “college” thing to do, you’ll figure yourself out. It’s like those awful trial and error problems from … like … third grade math.College is all about winging it. But enough hoighty-toighty sounding witticisms, and on to more fun topics: like more sage knowledge…or what the heck did I learn as a freshman that is changing my attitude this year. (I know more about me…so selfish) But I really do think it’s interesting, this conversation that we have with ourselves on a daily basis: what are we going to do today? How are we going to go about doing it? (Most of my conversations in the morning start with: is it time to sleep again, because I’m really digging this sleep thing.) We have total control from the beginning of the day how our day will go.
I feel like that is mainly what I learned from the past year: I am totally in control of my own happiness. I used to feel like some days I was in a bad mood, and I just had to tough it out. No more. I will take a bike ride, I will go to Pilates, I will make some delicious chai tea. I always felt anal retentive asking myself: am I happy today? (I mean seriously, who does that? First of all it kind of makes me feel like I have multiple personality disorder, but mostly, I just feel like a major control freak … which is not entirely out of the question.) However, it is impressive sometimes to see how I respond to myself … I even thought of writing down at the end of the day one thing that made me really happy so I could log my own construction of happiness, but even I thought that was a little much. It is fun to think about though…like what did I do today that made me especially happy…and every time you answer the question, you learn more about what makes you happy (I am clearly struggling for a synonym for happy). I know it must sound so naïve and optimistic to be saying I just want to be happy, but honestly, what more do I want at the end of the day (other than making others happy in the process, because contrary to this current blog entry, I do care about others outside myself). So today I decided I’d write what made me happy today, because…well because, it’s a cute tale mostly and I figure if you read this far, you will probably keep going.

I went to the Pawpaw festival today. I know, I know, just the name sounds fun-filled. (Background knowledge: the pawpaw is our state fruit, and we hold the largest pawpaw festival in the world just 10 minutes from Athens…yes it may be the only pawpaw festival in the world, but that is definitely besides the point.) I went last minute with a random hodge-podge of great people. A wonderful woman in a balloon hat made and us all free balloon hats (they had crazy flowers going off of them and spirals … they were freaking magical), and we donated a dollar for ice cream churned on sight from Snowville Creamery (look it up, they do great things). And of course, we tried a pawpaw. Naysayers be damned, it was actually good. I would describe it as a banana but with more citrus in it. It is officially the weirdest textured fruit of all time---like slimy pulpy nastiness…but it tastes surprisingly delightful. The festival is in Albany Ohio and it simply gorgeous. We went just as the sun was setting over the water (I know gag at my surprisingly Monet-like imagery), but it was just stunning (see picture that I myself took…I know, I know, I am a woman of many talents, and so modest too). We also bought mini pumpkins for a dollar. The man who sold them to us was glad to hear I plan to keep mine right by my printer. I named it Franklin. I can already tell we will be best friends, and that he will get along wonderfully with my pencil holder. Overall, it was a kooky night. We were all way too enthusiastic, and it was hilarious. It wasn’t anything fancy, or historic, or crazy expensive…it was just really just…fun. (I know…the word choice of fun is impeccable… synonyms are clearly a struggle this evening.)
Every blog entry I say lesson to be learned like I am writing a Disney short story, but this time I will say lesson that I learned: my night was amazing, because I deemed that it would be. (This doesn’t always work out, mind you, because sometimes it is totally out of your hands.) But honestly, half the effort is getting it through your own head that you will enjoy yourself.
So here I am, 12:17 a.m. on a Saturday morning (technically late-ish on Friday night), and while the majority of my peers are inebriated, I am sitting happily in my dorm after a fantastic evening (I know, I know, I attend the number 2 party school in the nation, what am I doing?!). I am sipping some chai, rereading Harry Potter, and I will probably go to bed soon … and of course, I am having some quality time with my new pal Franklin. I feel content with this. (Franklin, of course, agrees.)
PawPaw-ily,
Adorkable

3 hour tour: Trapped with Twister on the side of the Road

Dearest Readers,

Don’t worry, I’m giving myself a proverbial slap on the wrist for my bad blogging behavior. (isn’t proverbial a great word … it’s a current favorite this summer alongside adulation … I always have favorite words that I am obsessed with using so nerd alert). Anywhoo, so I am currently at work (oh snap rebel), but I have a few minutes of down time (which I normally never have here), so I am using them to my blog-ticious advantage. So on with the promised saga of broken down cars and twister boards.

Background info: I have nine close friends from high school, who I love dearly, and this summer we went to Ocean City Maryland for a week-ish-er. We went last year, because one of the boys has a house there, so we decided to return again…cause it’s fab and fun and sunny and hilarious.

Okay, so five of us, who left a few days early to get back to work, were on our way home from the beach (approximately a 7 hour drive) in my friend’s 109-year-old (slight exaggeration) Subaru—I named it Babu cause if you shorten Subaru to baru it’s kind of close. Thanks to bad luck it took us 9 hours to drive down to the beach, so we were bound and determined to make it home faster.

The drive was smooth and thanks to some left lane driving we were set to make it home in 6.5 hours … isn’t that always when the problem starts; just when you think you are in the clear … sigh. We were an hour and a half from home, it was 3:30 pm, when the driver at the time, who I will call Athletiman, noticed the car was making odd noises, we pulled into a parking lot of a middle school on the side of the highway and sure enough, smoke starts billowing out of the hood of the car. As images of the car exploding into a fire ball and the headline “Teens die in tragic fire incident” leapt to our minds as we sprang from the car in a high-pitched, scream-y panic. Little did we know this was just the beginning of a 3-hour-saga … which I kept dubbing the ‘3 hour tour,’ a line from the theme song of Gilligan’s Island.

While my friend who owned the car, who I will call Lobsterfilm, was on the phone with his dad trying to figure out what the problem was, the 4 of us called our parents to tell them we would be delayed. No end in sight. We called triple A and were told it would be a half hour before they were with us. No biggie. We all peed in the woods by the middle school … marking our territory I guess. 45 minutes passed of sitting by the road…no triple a. We call again and find out they are the wrong road…how reassuring…the people sent to rescue us with the best navigation devices around are lost. This is when the creativity began. We have no clue when Triple A will come rescue us considering we are 5 teenagers who sound like we have no idea what we are doing (because we don’t). We remember that twister, the board game of fun, is in the trunk and Athletiman pulls out his portable i-pod speakers. We bring out all the snacks we brought, set them up picnic style, and party it up. As we awkwardly stretch around the board, very confused cars pass us on the highway … a lot of them beep—no one stops to help—I guess the beep was supposed to be like a “good luck don’t die” beep…moreso it just pissed us all off because it was like they were saying “nah nah nah boo boo we are driving and you aren’t.” An hour and a half later, just as we were putting our left foot on green (and tangling up to a whole new level of awkward), triple a pulled in. I have never been so happy to see a tow truck. They tell us that the car can’t be fixed today, and we can’t drive it home. Well good. We had to call someone’s parents to come drive us home … while we waited another hour and a half, we peed in the woods more, and ate all of our provisions (since it was dinner time at this point). Around 7 they pulled in and I swear we all nearly cried, I wanted to kiss their champagne colored mini van (my loyalty to babu was totally severed now that the car had officially failed us) and we clambered in to watch Toy Story on their dvd player, eat more junk food, and drive home. After getting lost on the way home (of course), we finally made it home by 9:30. It was an 11 and a half hour car ride. 11 and a half hours. Just let that sink in. It’s not that 11 and a half hours is that long, it’s that we had only mentally prepared ourselves for 6 and a half hours. That’s not a fun mental transition. At all.

Lesson to be learned: Anything can be hilarious and a fun experience when turned the right way. We took advantage of the time spent on the side of the road with a little flair…and a game board. So even when you find yourself in the worst pickle yet, just make pickle-ade I guess. I’m not trying to say it won’t still be an un-fun situation, but hey, it makes for a kicking story … or maybe, just a kicking blog entry.

Twister-ly Yours,
Adorkable

ps. like the new layout??