Wednesday, October 31, 2012

happy halloween!

it really makes no sense that Halloween is, hands down, my favorite holiday (I prefer it to my birthday, even, but that might be because I did not have a good birthday until my sophomore year of college, when I turned 20 and my friend Alex threw me the best party in the history of the world -- I mean, really. Seriously, let's not even discuss my 18th birthday -- now that was a piece of shit and a half. And now here I am, going off on a tangent about birthdays on a Halloween post...).

so yes. It makes no sense. I'm a huge wimp. I'm afraid of everything: big things, like failure and losing loved ones, and dumb things, like being fat and fire (e.g. lighting a match...I only just learned how to light a lighter like, three weeks ago. As a kid, I freaking hated having to light the Hanukah candles). Even though mental illness fascinates me (I guess I'm a sick, sick person?), dissociative identity disorder (read: multiple personality disorder) scares the living shit out of me, ever since I watched the movie Sybil and had to endure hours upon hours of one of Sybil's alter-egos, Peggy's ramblings. That was some freaky crap. Actually, just yesterday, my roommate Jessica was watching another movie, Session 9, and I happened to walk in right when one of the characters was listening to an old tape recording of a woman diagnosed with DID, and as soon as I heard the voice of one of her alters (without knowing what the movie was even about, mind you), I was like, HOLYSHITISTHATSYBIL!?!?

yeah. I'm afraid of everything. Rats. Rodents in general. Ugh. And then tonight, when I took Simba out to potty, some bastard asshole dressed in a horse mask freaked me out. I'm like absolutely the worst person to have with you in a scary situation, because I'll probably just have a panic attack and leave you to fend for yourself.

but I love Halloween! Ooh, I love it. I love the candy that I never really eat and dressing up in clever costumes and watching scary thrillers like Shutter Island. I love reminiscing and watching Are You Afraid of the Dark? (which still scares me...oops).

I love Halloween, even though the smell and taste of pumpkins make me gag.

this year, for the first time ever, I was nothing (zilch, nada) for Halloween (I know, I know). But perhaps I haven't blown my chance yet; isn't it "Halloweek" this year instead of "Halloweekend"? Right? That's what I thought.

p.s. Jess and I made Simba a Twitter Simba made himself a Twitter. Follow him. He's got lots of thoughts for such a little dog. I promise he's funny. I also promise I'm not a crazy dog lady or anything.

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

on doing stuff

one thing that I've noticed recently is that I don't do a lot of things. I mean, yeah, I write plenty (although most of it is absolute crap), and I try to run five times a week, and I play with Simba and feed him and walk him around the block, and I go to class, and I work, and I hang out with my best friends, and sometimes I visit my boyfriend or he visits me, and every once in a while I'll have a glass of wine, but I just never do anything...out of the ordinary? Especially fun?

that's not to say I don't have any hobbies, because I do! But, how often can you travel the world? Ski season only lasts so long, and my body is pretty broken (read: I can't do gymnastics much anymore, either). I love to read, but sometimes reading school textbooks for hours on end sucks the joy out of it for me, and like I said, writing is probably my favorite thing in the world (other than Simba, when he's not gassy), but it's quite the solitary activity...and nothing out of the ordinary.

this past weekend, in the wake of Sandy (which, by the way, has had me worried sick over some people in the more affected areas, including this lovely girl right here), my boyfriend, his sister, and I went to the Kevin Hart comedy show in Albany, and it was freaking hilarious.

I hadn't laughed that hard in a while.

{...I want to go to a Russell Peters show so bad. I bet I'd laugh even harder}

I'm telling you, by the end of the night, I couldn't talk -- my cheeks hurt.

I loved it.

{and then we headed to TGI Friday's, where I got wasted off a quarter of a margarita and a shot of Bailey's irish cream...}

the last time I did something fun, out of the ordinary like that? This past May, when I went to the Kanye and Jay-Z concert in London.

that's just not okay (I mean, that it's been that long, not that I went to the concert, because that was a lot of fun, too).

I need to do fun stuff like that more often. I really do. I think it keeps me on my toes, so to speak. My life seems less mundane -- you know, it's good to have things to look forward to. Big things. And little things. Even hiking or a road trip. Just breaking out of the, it's good for the soul.

p.s. if you so wish, please text REDCROSS to 90999 to donate $10 to help hurricane Sandy victims.


initially, I admit I scoffed at all the hype and paranoia, like, psh, it's not even gonna be that bad. 

now, I'm kind of terrified. I'm not saying this is Katrina, part II, but oh my God. I am far enough to the west that we are not getting the worst of it, not even by a long shot (although the wind and the rain have been kind of terrifying...we had a kiddie pool -- long story; don't ask -- on our porch that blew off onto the roof!), but I am so scared for some of my best friends in New Jersey, New York City, and Connecticut. 

yesterday I had to take a train from Albany back home here, and I am so so lucky that it was pretty much the only train up in the Northeast that wasn't canceled (seriously, an act of God). I was so happy to be back home to my puppy (and roomie Jessica). When I got home, after a long shower and an even longer nap, Jessica and I popped open some champagne, ordered a cookie cake (hurricane edition, I suppose, judging by the swirly frosting decoration?), and watched Shutter Island (how oddly appropriate). And then we fell asleep (although before that, I watched some Jersey Shore because I am a wuss and already suffer from insomnia and falling asleep to Shutter Island sounds like a terrible idea to me). 

my heart goes out to all the victims...this is really horrible.

Monday, October 22, 2012

my top 10 college moments

time has been absolutely flying lately. Like, seriously speeding 90 in a 60. I recently applied for my graduation diploma (what!), and it's making me seriously nostalgic. Although I was sick (and depressed, unfortunately) last year, I have to say that Syracuse University is where I really found myself for the first time in my life. So...I bring you, my top 10 college moments (thus far):

{1} Marathon, freshman year. The drama kids here all live in the same house, which they've dubbed Marathon, and throw the most outrageous parties. This was one of the first nights in which I felt like I finally had a group of friends at college, and I just had a fabulous time. I also remember attempting some sort of ballet kick (really, I was just showing off for some fabulously flamboyant drama kid) and landing right on my ass. Photographic evidence below.

{2} iHop at 5 a.m., freshman year. Back when my boyfriend went to school here, and we had just started dating (ah, young love?), we would stay up all night talking and making frequent trips to iHop at 5 a.m. I have to say that Mike singlehandedly rid myself of any remaining eating disordered food fears, and also, the way I ate, I'm surprised I only gained the freshman five.

{3} Halloween and my awesome hippie costume, freshman year. It was here that I learned Halloween is an all-weekend affair in the world of college. Also, I still wear that tie dye t-shirt to sleep.

{why yes, at one point in time I was stupid enough to go blonde...yuck}

{4} Mayfest, freshman year. Probably the best day of my life spent with one of my very best friends, Alex, and her friends. The bar by which all future parties are measured.

{5} Cancun with Mike, freshman year. Drinking Supermans and Bob Marleys at the bar (hey, I was legal in Cancun) and having an entire bar filled with rowdy college men buying me beers and trying to teach me how to burp (unsuccessfully). What can I say? My body is incapable of burping...

{6} the gay bar, freshman year. So. Much. Fun.

{7} Naked people, sophomore year. One time, while partying at Alex's apartment, she yelled, "I love Kid Cudi!" and I replied, much too enthusiastically, "Me too! I love naked people!"

{8} the night that shall remain between Mike, Julie, Mina, and I, sophomore year. There was peeing and there was streaking and it was quite possibly the best night of my life.

{9} my birthday party, sophomore year. It was perfect.

{10} the night Ryan hid in the closet, junior year. Heh. Heh. Heh. I really have to graduate or can I just stay here for the rest of my life?*

*just kidding...I want to make the most of this year, but I'm also a teensy bit ready to move on to the next stage of my life.

Sunday, October 21, 2012


something happened last weekend that shook me to my very core. Hard. And I realized: this needs to change. The way I've been living; the way I watch life pass me by, always looking to the future, thinking, hoping, praying things will get better. Completely neglecting the present. Holding on to the past.

it needs to change.

and ever since that fateful, terrible night, I feel that my eyes have been opened wide, once and for all. For the first time in a long, long time, I meditated and prayed, making my way to Hendricks Chapel, an all-faith house of prayer at Syracuse University. It was empty, and I felt shockingly peaceful and serene, at home. And I realized, it's okay that sometimes religion makes me so angry, but it's also okay to believe in something greater than myself. I cried and cried and let it all out and finally I smiled so large because I felt that everything and anything had been lifted off my shoulders.

since then, I've been more introspective than ever, looking at myself, in the now. Not the past or the future. But the now. And I look at myself in the mirror, and I think (and forgive me if this sounds conceited), I'm pretty now. Not when I lose five pounds. But now.

and when I go on runs, I enjoy them now. I don't think, if only I were faster. I am as fast as I am now, and that's okay.

it's really strange living in the moment.

and also incredibly freeing.

I need to let go of the past. I need to stop holding on to the future, using it as a crutch, like, when x happens I will be happy, or when y happens things will finally fall into place.

I am happy now, in the present. It's so incredibly freeing, I can't believe I didn't think of it before. Being happy now, as things are! What a novelty thought, no?

I'm lucky and blessed and I deserve to laugh and dance and run and joke and kiss and hug and eat and travel and be the best version of me. Now.

Saturday, October 20, 2012

10 things i've learned in my 21 years of life

{1} never go off medication without a doctor's supervision, especially an anti-depressant. I learned this lesson the hard way. Twice.

{2} breaks are okay, sometimes good, even, as long as everyone agrees not to sleep with the girl from the copy store (Friends reference, anyone?).

{3} senioritis hits you in college, too, but you should really get over yourself, especially if you are thinking about going to grad school.

{4} I am a better writer than I think I am, so I should just keep writing.

{5} I will forever be unsatisfied with my nose if it is not pierced.

{6} it's okay to not be the best at everything. It's okay to not be the best at anything.

{7} even though I tend not to feel comfortable in group praying situations (e.g. synagogue, church, etc.), it's always good to find a quiet place to meditate or pray.

{8} the only thing really worth going broke for are experiences, such as traveling -- never material things.

{9} some people are just not worth getting aggravated over.

{10} exercise is good for the soul (running! Yoga!). Too much exercise is bad for the soul.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

things that make me happy

{1} drinking dates with my friend Sydney
{2} Simba asking me to be his girlfriend (okay, more like my roommate Jessica attaching a note to Simba's collar asking me to be his girlfriend...we'll pretend I was never his mother in the first place because then that's just effing weird)
{3} fall is looking more beautiful than ever
{4} I wrote today again. Go me!
{5} I think I am sort of kind of making a writing career for myself, and it's cool
{6} getting a B in an exam I was sure I'd failed
{7} Edible Arrangements in da house
{8} massages
{9} good friends, basically. Amazing friends. I couldn't even ask for more.
{10} fall-scented candles

oh, and also: karma. My homie.

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

i am an awful blogger

...but in my defense, I have strep, and I am stressed out, so I guess I will blog again once I find my groove.

oh, and also, yesterday I was paralyzed with the irrational fear that my novel sucks, and that I am a terrible fiction writer, and now I just can't seem to find the words. So I haven't been very productive on that front, either.


Thursday, October 4, 2012

in which i write fiction

this summer, I found myself in the midst of a quarter-life crisis (only a couple of months prior to my senior year of college -- how cliche). I was living alone in New York City, working very closely with the fashion industry, as I did the summer before that, and suddenly, the city of my dreams was no longer this magical place that would make me, but rather, overcrowded, grimy, disgustingly humid, much too large, rude, and most of all, awfully lonely*.

and, as much as I tried to convince myself otherwise, I did not want to work in or with fashion or beauty. Not at all. I found the industry cold and fake and pretentious and shallow, and that's just not who I am as a person. That is not to say that some in the fashion industry aren't incredibly creative and artistic and insightful, but in my experience, it's just an industry that will knock you down to your knees and never look back. And it's all well and good to endure it if it is what you truly want to do, but for me, it just isn't.

I knew what I wanted to do, of course. I wanted to write. I always have. But writing -- well, it seemed so hard, so unemployable (and here is where my logic fails me, because it's not like the fashion industry is any easier, really).

so in a moment of panic, I turned to my dad. He came to visit me, and we chatted over dinner at an Italian restaurant in the West Village. I admitted to him that, well, I hated the direction my life was going in. Hated it. I felt terrified that I would be trapped in this misery forever. Thankfully, he was more than understanding.

"so what is it that you really want to do?" he asked.


"about what?"

"um, I don't know. Mental illness. People with interesting stories**"

and then he threw me a curveball.

"what about novels? You used to love writing novels."

I froze. "Um, sure. I guess."

here's the truth: Novels were the reason I wanted to be a writer in the first place, ever since I read that first Harry Potter book in the third grade. By age 12, I used to lock myself in the upstairs room, typing away furiously, and I even completed a couple of novels. I wish I could recover them, because although I am sure the writing was atrocious, I remember the stories, and I think they were quite good. I'd love to revise them. Or I suppose maybe I could try rewriting them...?

but somewhere along the line, I guess around the time that I started hating my body and doubting every last thing about myself, I figured that writing fiction would never happen for me. It's too hard, I thought. I'll never get a novel published. I guess I won't be a writer, but a journalist, instead.


and then, recently, I decided I was bored with my life and that I would give novel-writing another go...

...and all over again, just like that, I fell in love. It was incredibly difficult at first. I didn't know where to start. I went through periods of intense writer's block, something which I hardly ever face when writing nonfiction. But now...I cannot stop writing. The words are pouring out of me, and it's kind of the best feeling in the world. I want to be a fiction writer. And I know it's going to suck and that I will be rejected over and over and over and over and that I will second-guess myself, but man, I swear there is nothing more satisfying for me than writing fiction. I can't believe I ever forgot this.

also, I am now looking into possible creative writing MFA programs to apply to in the future (like, two to three years from now), because I think that I might want to teach creative writing at a collegiate level someday. Who would've thought?

...and this concludes my most footnoted post, ever.

*I don't mean to diss the city. It really is a fabulous place -- it's just obviously not the place for me.

**my college admissions essay was precisely about this, about how much I wanted to write about people with amazing stories. It was based on someone that I admired very much at the time, although unfortunately this person mistreated me horribly two years ago and never showed any remorse and chose to play the blame game instead, so that's that, I guess. Also, I don't quite know how I accidentally "fell" into fashion over the past few years -- I suppose I just thought it was what I "should" do. But it's not me.

***that is not to say that I do not enjoy writing nonfiction, because I do. I love it -- as long as it is on a topic or story I'm interested in.

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

a post about fantastic quotes ii

"so after I quit gymnastics, I started binging and the gardener would look at me through the window and I f*cking hated it, like stop looking at me through the window when I'm binging."
"that's such a rich person story."
"what do you mean?"
"like, oh you know, I was binging and the gardener saw me through the window."

{yeah, so obviously binging is not funny, but sometimes you just have to laugh at yourself, you know?}

"didn't you ever hear of Elian and the dolphins?"
"the what?"
"the kid from Cuba whose boat sank from Cuba on the way to Miami, and then he was rescued by dolphins."
"there are no dolphins in that body of water."
"really? There's no dolphins by Florida? I swear that's what the story was."
"oh, I thought you were talking about the Titanic."

"as a writer, I always like to think that you get to use one exclamation point during your career. Do you really want to use it up while you're still a student?"

{not particularly funny, per se, or not funny at all, really, but I thought it was a powerful way to put it. Or maybe I am just too obsessed with becoming a writer}

"quick, knock on wood! We have to knock on wood every time we compliment Simba, cause you never know." That was lame. Only four quotes? Clearly I need to work on my quote collecting abilities these days.

Monday, October 1, 2012

my goals; october

so! It's October already! I have so many posts pending that I just can't wait to share (including a survey that Sarah tagged me in -- I will do it, I promise! I'm actually kind of flattered that I would be tagged in anything at all...I didn't think anyone read my blog), but but but...I am so overworked lately; the good kind of work, mind you, like freelancing assignments and working on my, erm, novel, which I am suddenly so into (it's making me so happy, guys), but also the sucky kind of work, like studying for a communications law exam which I may or may not fail...

anyway -- I suppose it's time for my new monthly goals. But first, I should see how I fared last month (answer: not good).

so, my September goals were:

{1} write at least five freelance pieces (two down already!), paid or not. It's always good for my portfolio. -- okay, so I got four down. Does that count? I think as a full time student and Vitality editor and part-time job-er, that's not so bad.

{2} get a job. -- yep!

{3} work on my strength and flexibility at gymnastics practice. I'm in terrible shape, gymnastics-wise at least, and I don't want to hurt myself again. -- long story short, I can't do gymnastics ever again. I will write about this later. I guess. Sore subject.

{4} learn to sleep past 8 a.m. (I used to be such a pro. What happened?) -- er, with the help of NyQuil...

{5} come up with a really good birthday gift to send to my sister because she deserves it (her birthday's in three days! Eek) -- I think it was pretty good!

{6} go out and party at least once a week. Sometimes it's such a drag getting myself out the door, but I never regret it. -- I think I did a decent job? I can do better.

{7} find the time to finish a book -- one that I read for pleasure, not a school textbook. -- ugh, oops.

{8} start taking photos again! And I don't mean instagram (@debbiele03, by the way) -- if I could find my camera battery. Boo.

{9} wrap up Vitality's next issue! -- well, the plan kind of changed (in a good way), so it's not my fault this didn't happen.

{10} find the courage to give someone that used to mean a lot to me a long overdue apology. I already did this to someone else earlier this year, and it is perhaps the best thing I have ever done. -- ugh, I'm too scared. But at least we had a sort of kind of interaction via Facebook for the first time in seven years, so that's a start?


So I don't think I did that great this month...oopsie. I'll make my goals more of a priority this month. I swear. 

so, in October, I want to: 

{1} keep working on my novel!

{2} write 3-4 freelance pieces

{3} read A Casual Vacancy! Biggest J.K. Rowling fan, and not just because of Harry Potter. I think she's a brilliant writer. 

{4} go out and party at least once a week.

{5} learn to sleep past 8 a.m. 

{6} look into taking the GREs.

aaaandddd...that's it. I guess I'm not going hard this month. Or maybe I've decided to finally stop overexerting myself.