The Story of How Teen Girl Squad Saved My Week

Yesterday was a terribly stressful day.  You know those days where you are doing fine, but all the sudden reality comes over and tries to suffocate you with a pillow made of responsibility and trivial problems?  This is one of my fears.   I have many of them, some substantiated, some not, but all of them real.  I am afraid of snakes, being poked in the eye with an umbrella by a passing person (to the point I'll cross a street to avoid it), breaking my fingers, pain, unstable heights, and being a grown up.  Don't get me wrong...I am a firm believer that everybody has to grow up.  I don't think you should refuse to change, to accept each new stage of life.  I do, however, fear loosing touch with the magic of childhood.   I am simply not happiest when I'm repressing my wide-eyed delight.  And that's exactly what happened. I became overwhelmed with life, and lost the happiness.  It is entirely possible to maintain both a responsible, efficient, academically successful life and still be true to the tea-party - throwing, feather-boa - wearing  princess inside.  I am working on this balance. 

For me, the breaking point was last night.  Thankfully, I am blessed with amazing friends who make me stop frantically spinning in circles and sit down and talk it out.  They are also the kind of friends who will sit there and watch "Teen Girl Squad" with me untill I've laughed my stress out.  Sometimes, you need to do that.  Spend a good 20 minutes reliving the memes of yesteryear.  It's like pomegranate tea for your soul.  Laughter may not be the best medicine, I mean, if you're missing an appendage or have a severe case of tuberculosis, than I'm pretty sure medical attention may be the best medicine.  However, laughter is the best anti-stresser.  I am also blessed with some insane roomies.   I’m convinced my roomies and my close friends here are soul mates, just without the physical attraction.  And they make my life fun.   :)

Pictured: anti-depressant 

Life is amazing! Look around!  There is so much to wonder at!  I just noticed a metal clock built into the side of SAC (for those of you who are Grovers) about the huge window facing HAL.  It's a small detail, but it's beautiful.  And the snow! Even if you're not a snow person, (well, none of us are. We're humans. But you get what I mean) you have to admit the snow makes everything look BEAUTIFUL.  It's like frosting from God!   Life is beautiful when your attitude is beautiful.   I know, my attitude is often ugly.  But you know what?  It's easy to change.  Sometimes God shaking up the snow globe that is this Earth is just enough to make it better.   So I challenge you.  Find something beautiful.  Dance in the snow.  Enjoy old internet references.  Eat a blueberry bagel. 

It's the Most Wonderful Time...

I hate cold weather.  Snow kind of annoys me.  I dislike wearing bulky coats and sweaters.  Christmas is my favorite. Ever.   I know this sounds incredibly contradictory. It is, don't worry.  I'm not sure what it is, but there is something about Christmas that makes me deliriously happy.  I was walking into town the other week, and when I turned the corner, I saw that there were Christmas lights in the street.  My reaction can only be described accurately using a visualization.   You know those Clearinghouse sweepstakes where the guy comes to your house with balloons and a check for a million dollars, and how the lucky winner jumps and screams like some sort of orangutan on drugs? Imagine that. Plus more happiness. And repeated screaming of the word "CHRISTMAS!" yeah. Pretty much what happened.  I just really really REALLY love Christmas.

This is the fantastic time of year where the Christmas lights start to show up.  There is a long standing tradition in my family where we will drive around and "ooh" and "ahhh" at the lights. (literally, in unison)  I love the crazy decorations, especially the reindeer.  A part of me wants to go up and knock on the door, and just yetll  "I know they're not real!" and run away.  I just love everything about the season.  For instance, today is the first real snow.  It's also the first of December.  Today will be amazing. 

Yes, this is a short post.  I'm far to excited about the snow to sit still for more than 10 minutes.  

Trapezoids and Zombies (curious?)

Today, I realized that I have always harbored a deep seeded detest for trapezoids.  They've always kind of annoyed me.  I'm not sure why, but I feel like they think they are better than everyone else.  In fourth grade, I remember we were making a shape collage, and I "punished" the trapezoids but covering up with the "good" shapes.  I really liked squares and circles.   Triangles always kind of stressed me out.  Reading what I just wrote….I'm actually stunned that I've been able to function normally for all the years.  But anyways, I realized that I have unusually strong feeling towards random objects, especially shapes.  I'm not sure what that says about me.  Or if I says anything at all.  Either way, I'd love to know I'm not the only crazy person (not in an asylum) out there.

On a related note: I decided today that I'm going to make "zombie apocalypse escape plan" posters and put them all over campus.  This is legit! If there's a zombie apocalypse I want to be prepared!  For instance, my escape plan from my room is to throw a mattress out a window, jump out said window, climb into a cage with a gun and wait for my boyfriend to come defend me.  (It's still being revised.) I think it's downright irresponsible not to be prepared! Also, we should have zombie drills.  Like fire drills, for zombies. The tortured screams of the slow ones can be the siren. 

These should be more common than fire extinguishers and hand sanitizer. 

I know this is a shorter post, but I'm busy planning the zombie apocalypse.  

Because I'm a Music Major...

If you know me well enough, you know that typically the only time I run is if someone is chasing me with a weapon.  Or Justin Beiber.  I have, however, discovered a useful use for running.   Lately, the treadmill has saved me from more...creative outlets of my stress.  Since classical music relaxes me as well, I thought "Why not combine the two for optimal stress-busting action?".  This was a fantastic idea, until I realized that  my need to be conducting the symphony in me head is inevitable.  This would be fine, if I could keep the conducting in my head.  And I was.  Until I suddenly realized that I had been running for a good 20 minutes while full on conducting.  I noticed when I went to cue the French horns and hit my hand on my water bottle.   The gym was packed full of hardcore athletes, and I was conducting a symphony.  They probably thought I was trying to land a plane.  Based on the judgment in their eyes, I stuck out like a Trekky at an anime convention.   But I didn't care.  In the end, stress busting is more important than being judged.  Especially since there's no telling what would happen if I was left to my own devices to bust stress.   Sometimes you just need to conduct the music in your head. 

On a completely unrelated note, I double dog dare you to wear something crazy this week.  For instance, I'm a planning to wear a headband with a huge flower on it.  Why?  Just because.  It makes you feel amazing.  I also love curling my hair.  When my hair is curled, nothing can stop me.  Ok, a bullet probably could, but you get what I'm saying.  Do it. Keep me posted. 

Stick it to the Man

Sometimes all you need to do is stick it to the Man.  Just defy conventional society.  For example, order a veggie sandwich at Five Guys.  Allow me to explain.  For those of you who are uncultured, Five Guys is a burgers and fries place.   You basically don't go to Five Guys and NOT get a burger.  I don't even know if they sell anything that's not beef.  They might have hot dogs, but I'm not sure.  They are also the kind of place that gives you peanuts while you're waiting, and their fries are sinfully good.  But I digress. 

We were on a band trip to Florida.  We had been on a coach bus for a considerable amount of time.  (Then again, 20 minutes sitting still anywhere is a considerable amount of time for me).  We were 4ish hours into the trip, and I was determined to make positive memories.  I was in one of those moods where I just want to do something, you know?  I needed to make a bold move, to express myself.  Standing in line behind 30 or so hungry, tired high school students I made a decision.  Here, at the burger capital of the world, I was going to order a veggie sandwich.  I boldly declared my plan to Allie, who immediately responded like only a best friend would; joining me in dancing in line and chanting "stick it to the man!". 

Finally I approach the counter, and prepare to delight "Rosa" with my order.  I should point out that in your mind Rosa is probably a nice lady, maybe Hispanic, cheerfully shouting the super secret code of burger making to the kitchen, maybe adding a "have a great day!".  No.  Rosa was a man.  A huge, tattoo sporting, Irish man.  I'd be willing to bet he had a motorcycle out back, and probably owned a rabid pit-bull.  He just seemed like that kind of man.

This next part is best expressed through dialogue:

Me: "Hello, I'd like one veggie sandwich and a small fry"

Rosa: (incredulously raises eyebrow) "A veggie sandwich?"

Me: "Yes. A veggie sandwich."

Rosa: "What would you like on your…...veggie sandwich?"

Me: (being the picky eater that I am) "ummmm….pickles.  And lettuce.  And mustard"

Rosa: "Pickles, lettuce, and mustard?"  (laughs)

Ok, let's analyze.  The Irish man named Rosa is laughing at me for ordering something one their menu.  Honey, your name is Rosa.  If anyone should be laughing, it should be me.  But it's ok, this just helped further the social rebellion. 

Me: "Yes.  Exactly"

Rosa: "Ok then...number 73"

At this point I go sit down and wait for my order.  Allie and I, of course, kept celebrating.  Finally, I got my veggie sandwich in all its silver-foil wrapped splendor.  I was expecting a veggieburger with toppings, naturally.  I excitedly unwrapped my veggieburger like that kid unwraps the BB Gun in "A Christmas Story", only to find exactly two pieces of bread, 6 of those little lame pickles they put on sandwiches, a piece of lettuce, and tons of mustard.  That's it.  I could feel Rosa's silent judgment.  Allie and I simply stare at the sandwich.  In a sad attempt to retain my dignity I picked it up and said (loudly) "MMMMM! MUSTARD!!!" and proceeded to eat that sandwich like there was no tomorrow.   Even though that sandwich was lamer than a dog with no legs (that's a terrible analogy) it was the most fun sandwich I've ever eaten. 

The moral of the story, children, is that next time you want to make a statement, you don't have to dye your hair, or write an angry song, or hang an anarchy flag from your window.  Sometimes all it takes is mustard and pickles.  

Brown is the new black, and velociraptors are the new awkward turtle.

I walk fast.  This is just something I've learned to do so my short, stumpy legs can keep up with my tall friends.  This is normally fine.  Normally.  But some people enjoy walking slowly.  More power to you.  I'm glad you're taking the time to enjoy the beautiful outdoors.  But when it's 40 degrees and hailing and I have 5 minutes to get across campus, I don't appreciate you getting you swag on as much.  Especially when that swag is like if someone took a video of a sloth swimming through molasses and slowed it down 200%.  (only a slight exaggeration) 

These swag-meisters generally result a buildup of people behind them.   You know how standing in an elevator is kind of awkward?  Well, this is more awkward.  There is no bad 80's music to sing to, no shiny things to be distracted by, and no carpet to be pretending to study.  You are just awkwardly trucking along next to someone you don't know.  I recently found myself in such a situation.  I decided to be friendly, so I tried to smile at the person next to me. (who we will name 'Steve' for this purpose.  Steve. What kind of rapping name is that?)  In my mind, I turn and flash Steve a smile that would rival that of an A list actress graciously accepting some sort of prestigious award.  In reality I look liked I was in excruciating pain.  Instead of a huge grin, I ended up half sneering.  Great.  So now, having tainted my reputation, I decided to try and remedy this with some laughter.  Laughter is the best medicine, right?  Halfway thought making this decision, I remember that my laugh is loud. And obnoxious.  And sometimes sounds like a retarded seal.  So I go for "cute giggle".  I would giggle, thereby rendering myself the kid of person that laughs at their own stupid facial expressions and simultaneously acknowledging our common frustration in the swag-meister.   Win-win situation.  Somehow, my chuckle ended up sounding like I was having an asthma attack or hyperventilating, or both.   After a strange expression from Steve, and resisting the urge to yell "Don't judge me!" and fall to the ground in fetal position crying, I decided to give up and just walk on the grass. 

What should I have done?  The answer is obvious, my friends.  Velociraptor impersonations.  Think about it.  They are cute (in a dangerous sort of way) and a velociraptor sound is just plain fun.   Everybody loves velociraptor sounds.   It's like a law.  And If you don't, you should seriously reconsider your priorities.   Seriously, if someone came up to me and made a velociraptor sound, we'd be best friends forever.  No lie.  In fact, it is my love language. 

Pictured: friendship

I should point out that I added "Velociraptors" along with ever form of the word (i.e. "velociraptoring" etc.) to Microsoft OneNote (where I drafted this) because it didn't recognize it as a word.   I am disappointed, Microsoft.

Dear Life...

Dear Life,

It has come to my attention that you are imposing on my childhood more and more.  The fact that my childhood ended last year does not mean that I don't have every intent of holding on to it.  Truth is, I will always find immense joy in the things I enjoyed as a child; singing to strangers, dancing in public, crying too hard at movies, and huge brightly colored costume jewelry.  These are basic human rights; food, water, shelter and costume jewelry.

Don't get me wrong, I love you.  I really really do.  At least you aren't boring.  But as a precaution, I'm going to start allowing myself a haven of perpetual childhood.  A celebration of the simple pleasures.  A homage to the long ago days where who you sat next to on the swings at recess was a life changing decision.  I am determined to not forget the things that will always make me truly happy.  Things like dandelions, getting the first scoop of peanut butter, making ridiculous faces in public, and blueberry bagels.  To these things there will always be a small part of me anchored.

Welcome to my ivory tower of irresponsibility.

Love always,

Sandylion