The little things I've learned from 2013.

1. Don't be afraid to ask for help.

2. Tell the people you love how much you love them, as often as you can.

3. Show the people you love how much you love them, as often as you can.

4. My 9th grade English teacher was right - you really can't start that term paper the night before it's due (and expect to do well).

5. It feels a lot better to give than to receive.

6. Never let anyone invalidate your feelings (including yourself).

7. Life is short. Have dessert.

8. No one is ever going to love you "most."

9. Travel more. Visit new places.

10. Take the time to go explore the city you live in, even if it means going alone.

11. Set aside 15 minutes and read a chapter of scripture (or whatever helps you unwind) every day. 

12. Take the time to message an old friend you haven't seen or talked to for a while.

13.  The City of Angels truly is one of the greatest places in the world.

14. Take any feedback given to you with grace. If good, be humble. If bad, don't get defensive. Use it as a learning experience.

15. Never settle for someone who makes you feel second best.

16. If you've hurt someone, apologize. Try to understand what you've done wrong and how to fix it.

17. Stop expecting others to apologize, even if you think they should.

18. You can't control anyone but yourself.

19. You have the right to remove a negative presence from your life. Don't feel guilty about it.

20. Don't let fear stop you from doing something you need to do, or want to do.

21. There is a huge difference between wanting someone and needing someone.

22. It's okay to cry.

23. Never apologize for crying.

24. Volunteer more.

25. Call your grandmother(s).

26. Dream big, then go out and do.

27. Give more hugs (unless the person on the receiving end doesn't like hugs...air hugs are cool too, and I used to hate being touched too so I don't judge).

28. Don't let anyone else try to pick your friends.

29. Being an Atheist is okay. Shaming religions and spirituality as silly and not real is not okay. 

30. Being a Christian is okay. Being a homophobic, racist, misogynistic, or otherwise hateful person in the name of Christianity is not okay. (Seriously, it gives Jesus, not to mention the rest of us, a bad rep).

31. No matter what you do, there is always going to be someone who does it better. However, that should never stop you from trying your best.

32. If it won't matter in five years, it's not worth your stress right now.

33. Writing is good for the soul. Take the time to go to the park with your notebook and pencil, focus on your breathing, and just write. 

34. Thank your teachers/professors for all of their hard work. Seriously, they spent years going to school just so you could get the best education possible.

35. Healthy foods really do make you feel better. Except for green beans, those things are gross.

36. It's totally fine to have an obsession with a celebrity or movie/TV show, just don't let it completely take over your life.

37. Don't be ashamed about getting addicted to Candy Crush - it happens to the best of us.

38. Get up early and do something productive. Looking back, it'll make you feel really good about yourself.

39. Never tell yourself that you shouldn't miss someone.

40. Appreciate your friends for who they are. Don't try to turn people into someone they're not. You obviously chose to be friends with them for a reason.

41. That being said, change happens. People change. It's also okay to let go of things that need to be let go of.

42. Go to the beach and watch a sunrise/sunset (depending on which coast you live on).

43. Listen to the advice of your elders, even if it's not what you want to hear.

44. Pray more, worry less.

45. Don't ask someone to do something that you yourself wouldn't do.

46. Don't be judgmental of people who party/drink/smoke/etc. more than you do. There's more than one way to have fun.

47. Sing in the shower. If your housemates are gone, sing louder.

48. Stop focusing on what you don't have, and instead appreciate what you do.

49. Not getting straight A's does not mean your life is over.

50. Your GPA does not define you.

51. Take the time to play with your pets. They won't be around forever.

52. Whenever you are debating on whether to stay in or go out, go out. You can always leave if you get tired/don't like it.

53. Everything happens for a reason.

54. Use the experiences and tribulations from your past to create a better future.

55. Don't let people walk all over you, or else they'll never stop.

56. Take the time to learn people's names.

57. Even in LA, long drives can be very relaxing.

58. Yes, we as Americans have the right to freedom of speech. No, that doesn't mean what you choose to say won't have consequences.

59. Being single isn't the worst thing in the world. Eventually, the right one for you will come along.

60. Just because someone else is being immature doesn't give you the right to be. 

61. If someone has touched your life, or changed your life for the better, thank them. Call them, write them a letter, anything.

62. Be kind to everyone. You never know what they're going through.

63. Pay it forward.

64. It's okay to have a bad day every once in a while, just don't take that bad day out on others.

65. Just because you disagree with someone politically does not give you the right to be disrespectful. Everyone has the right to their own opinion.

66. Before you know it, people will no longer excuse your actions with "he/she is young. He/She will learn," because you won't be "young" anymore.

67. Go to the opera, ballet, or philharmonic every now and then. It's good to feel cultured, plus it's actually amazing to watch/listen to people's hard work and talent all pay off.

68. Don't wait until your phone/computer is at one percent battery to plug it in. That just adds stress to your life that you probably don't need.

69. There is no shame in making the occasional dirty joke (see what I did there?).

70. Don't waste money on things you don't really need, or that will just end up sitting on a shelf somewhere.

71. Eat more pizza because it's good for the soul and, like my Southern grandfather would say, it'll make your tongue slap your brains out.

72. Sometimes you just need to be alone.

73. Smile at people when you walk past them. It could make their whole day, and honestly it's no fun to be glared at.

74. Don't let anyone tell you what you should or should not regret. Only you can make that call.

75. While driving, don't honk at people unless you really really have to. Waiting an extra 0.5 seconds after the light turns green won't kill you. For all you know, they could be driving a manual and just killed their engine. 

76. Sometimes it's better to make someone a present instead of buy one.

77. Forgiving someone doesn't necessarily mean forgetting everything that happened, it's just a way to help you move forward.

78. Never stop advocating for gay rights. Love is love. Don't let anyone try and convince you otherwise.

79. Having an idol (or idols) is a good thing.

80. Cooking can actually be fun when you take the time to do it.

81. Thank your housemates for restocking the toilet paper or doing the dishes, and for just being a positive presence in your living space.

82. Stop referring to your love of romance novels technically written for middle-aged women as a guilty pleasure.

83. It's okay to have late-night junk food cravings, just not every night, or else before you know it you'll be 472 pounds. Then again if you want to be 472 pounds I won't judge. Food is good.

84. Ask how your family and friends are doing before they ask you.

85. Never be ashamed of your religion. You don't have to justify your beliefs to anyone.

86. Be patient with and kind to small children. Not to mention, little kid hugs are the best.

87. Take more pictures and selfies.

88. Personal hygiene should be taken seriously.

89. Go on more hikes. It clears the mind.

90. Start setting aside money for that big trip you want to take someday.

91. Put your phone away when you're out to eat or spending time with friends or family. Be present. Pay attention to the people in front of you.

92. School isn't just about the grades. Go to class to learn, not to get that A in participation. Although the A's don't hurt.

93. Drink more water and less (diet) soda.

94. If/when someone invites you over to their home for dinner, ask if you should bring anything and if they say no, bring a bottle of wine anyway.

95. If you want to hang out with someone, reach out to them.

96. Getting overly attached to people is both a good and a not-so-good thing.

97. Sometimes bad decisions make for good stories to tell the grandkids one day, and sometimes bad situations make for funny stories three years later.

98. Always say hello to the person sitting next to you on an airplane or train. Be friendly.

99. Do things for others without expecting anything in return. 

100. Never forget that God always has a plan.

~Erin

Tasting the crisp, cool air as it fills your lungs.

I don't know if it's just a Thanksgiving thing, but for some reason it's always (and by "always" I mean this year and last year) around mid to late November that I start feeling a mixture of extreme homesickness/nostalgia/yearning to be back in the Pacific Northwest. Not specifically within the house I grew up in per se, but just to be back in the area.

You won't notice this at the bottom of the page because I'm not going to post until later in the day, but as I sit here typing this it's currently 4:20 in the AM on the Monday before Thanksgiving. You see, I have a term paper due Tuesday that I really don't want to do, and a proposal for another term paper due later today. The second is a little less tedious, because it's for my Children's Lit. class and I'm writing about gender roles within Harry Potter, rather than the 1791 French Constitution. Also, my senior thesis is due in eight days. Yikes. If you hadn't noticed, my workload is increasing significantly, meanwhile my motivation is dwindling to the point where all I can do is sit at my desk, listen to old Seattle U Choirs music (that was recorded almost three years ago now...wow guys, we're officially getting old), and let the nostalgia course through my veins.

It's not that I regret coming to Oxy. I love Oxy. I love most everything about Oxy - the people, the professors, the weather...the list goes on. Not to mention, LA is an amazing city and I feel like I've done a lot more growing up here than I did living in Seattle - both intellectually and personally. The only downside to being here is that I literally never get to see my extended family anymore, and - at times - that feels like a deep stab to the chest and I can't breathe. I left some of the best friends I've ever had up in Seattle too; the goofiest, craziest, kindest, most caring best friends a girl could ask for, and I left them just so I could get a better education. Like I said, I don't regret leaving, but right now I can't help but wonder what if I never did.

November and December are, in my opinion, literally the best months to be in the Pacific Northwest. The way the trees lose their leaves, tasting the crisp, cool air as it fills your lungs, the sound of rain pounding your window late at night, the way you can just bundle up in your scarves, boots, mittens, and North Face jacket and go for a walk in downtown Seattle, the way your aunt's house smells like Christmas and love and family and you can't imagine being anywhere else for the holidays, and that excited feeling you get when you hear on the news that it might snow tonight (aka. no school tomorrow). You don't really get a lot of that in Southern California, and right now I would give anything for it.

I miss the drive back to Eugene from Seattle just my mom and me the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. I miss going to visit my high school teachers. I miss hugging my best friends from high school. I miss how Valley River Mall in Eugene gets all decked out for Christmas with garland, and of course the Santa who's been there since I was a toddler. I miss the way my Grammy's turkey stuffing melts in my mouth. I miss being able to see how much my baby cousin (who is now 13 and how the hell that happened I could not tell you) has changed and grown up. I miss the drive back up to Washington for a second Thanksgiving spent at my aunt's house in Olympia, spending the entire car ride zoned out listening to the Twilight soundtrack (judge me...). I miss hearing my Grandma tell me I should go back for seconds (and thirds) because she knows just how to make me not feel self-conscious about my weight for once. I miss joking around and laughing too loudly with my favorite cousin, who's now a college freshman and I don't know how that happened either. I miss long conversations with my uncle, who - and I'll admit I've never told him this in person before - is the greatest man I know and my role model. I miss cuddling up on the couch and watching Christmas movies, all the while knowing I'd still have to get through 30 hours of work, two choir concerts, countless hours of rehearsals, and finals before the actual day would get here. I miss going back up to Seattle and listening to my best friend Arielle tell me all of her stories about getting stuck at the kiddie table for Thanksgiving dinner again. I miss my best friend Andre coming to sit in my room for six hours straight while I'm trying to finish a paper. I miss singing inside St. Joseph's Cathedral on a cold Friday night for a concert. I miss my favorite professors at Seattle U (Frau Brown, Holly, Paul, Professor Pepper, Doc...lol that is actually the strangest combination of names ever). I miss walking outside, heading to an 8:00 AM final, and being able to see my breath. I miss finally finishing finals, only to come back to the room and see Arielle dancing around in her towel to the Glee version of "Valerie."

Overall I guess I just really miss the Pacific Northwest right now.

I imagine a lot of you can empathize, since I think Oxy literally has students from all 50 states save for maybe two (and from God knows how many countries) attending. I know I certainly empathize with you.

I guess in a way it took (finally) leaving the Pacific Northwest to truly appreciate what I left behind. I needed to do it, and honestly I don't really want to settle back up there permanently if I can help it, but now that I have this greater appreciation it makes the nostalgia hurt a little bit worse. Also the weather down here is too damn warm and I find myself wishing more and more every day that it would get just a little cooler...you know, like 40 - aka. what it's supposed to be this time of year. Come on LA, stop contributing to global warming and get with the program.

Winter break, please get here faster.

~Erin

P.S. You know what I told myself I'd never start playing? Candy Crush. You know what I started playing anyway? Candy Crush. You know what's super addicting? Candy Crush.

I have no self control.

The watering hole.

You know how in Mean Girls there's this scene where Cady's like at the mall with Regina and the rest of the Plastics, and her inner monologue starts talking about like, if she and Regina were animals in the African desert they would have settled their "differences" by clawing each other to death in the watering hole? And then she pretends to tackle Regina to the ground and everyone surrounds them, howling in wild animal-speak: "FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT!" 

Well, I had one of those moments today.

Not physically of course, but after I got out of class I walked past this person who, for most of last year, I considered one of my best friends. Turns out they didn't feel the same about me, and by that I mean they A. don't talk to me anymore, and B. they don't make eye contact with me anymore. For whatever reason, I basically don't exist to them anymore. Of course, being the 21 year old college senior that I am, I've gotten over it. Yeah, losing a friend sucks, but I graduated middle school (with a 4.0, mind you). If someone wants to shut me out for no apparent reason - despite all my efforts (and a half dozen emails) - then I'm not going to kill myself over trying to be in their life, if you catch my drift. 

Anywho, I had just gotten out of class and grabbed a coffee before work. I was in a decent mood; the dining hall was serving Thanksgiving food for lunch (INCLUDING MARTINELLI'S. SCORE), the class I'd just gotten out of is probably my favorite college course out of the three and a half years I've been a student, and it was pleasantly chilly outside...aka. a solid 60-65 degrees - winter in LA.

But then I saw them. Just, you know, sitting there on the patio eating lunch and chattering away with another someone I'm not altogether too fond of. 

(By the way...I'm only really not fond of two people at my school, and I'm talking about them now. I don't hate everyone I swear).

The first thing I thought of when I saw them was to just casually walk past them from behind, like "oh, nothing's wrong I'm just minding my own business," and then veryyy sneakily take my left hand and SHOVE THAT SMUG FACE STRAIGHT INTO THE MASHED POTATOES...with a soundtrack of wild animal noises playing in the background.

Yeah, it's been one of those weeks.

"Erin, are you okay?"

I'm not used to people asking me if I'm okay.

Normally, I'm so good at hiding whatever negative feelings I happen to be feeling that sometimes I even forget I felt them in the first place. Of course you can imagine the aftermath of that - sitting alone in my room, feeling sorry for myself, all the while balling my eyes out, curled up into a ball on top of my bed - so it's not very good for me, but I still do it because...well, just because. And people don't notice, and therefore never ask me if I'm "okay."

People - including my therapist (yes, I have joined the masses of LA citizens and decided to pay a complete stranger to solve all my problems for me) - always say it's best to just "let it all out" because "you'll feel so much better" and blah blah blah blah BLAH. Well I hate to break it to you, but that's not exactly how my brain is wired. 

No really, I have years of stuff still buried wayyy deep down in there and I mean, after a while I feel like it just became a part of me - like what if all the sudden I just let it all out for all the world to know? Then who would I be? To me, spilling a secret is like losing a piece of myself, what makes me, me. So when people ask me if I'm "okay," even if the answer is no - like it is most of the time these days - I usually always say yes, so that I don't have to lose a little bit more of myself. Does that make sense?

If you didn't already guess, there's this person in my life right now who keeps asking me if I'm "okay," while simultaneously giving me this look that says like "I know you're lying if you say yes because you always look so sad and/or exhausted and I'm around if you ever want to talk." Well thank you, I'm extremely grateful to you for caring, but I also have this wall built up that takes like 1200 strong men and a nuclear bomb to break through so good luck with that and I'm sure you'll get tired of trying.

Eventually I know they'll stop asking me if I'm "okay." I know this, because it's happened so many times before. People get tired of listening to a lie, especially when they can recognize it. The only thing is, I don't want this person to stop. But the only way to keep them from stopping is to start talking, and I'm not sure I can do that either.

You catch my drift?

~Erin

One lesson turns into another.

God has a funny way of doing things sometimes. It's like one minute I think He's trying to teach me one lesson, and then I turn around and realize that instead it's something completely different. For example, that last blog post I wrote - about dealing with failure and no longer letting it define me? Well, of course the lesson I got out of writing that one was that a C+ is not as important as changing kids' lives (which is true), and it's ONE C, etc etc.

BUT, as of around 3pm yesterday afternoon, that lesson turned into a completely different one, and here's how.

I decided on a whim about a week ago that I actually DID want to go in and talk with the professor from that history class, and straight up ask him why my grade was what it was (because it honestly made no sense to me). I had originally decided not to make waves, because that's how I was raised and kind of how I am as a person; I don't like to intentionally go in anywhere and make waves, if you know what I mean. However, after letting this issue sit in my mind for quite a while, I realized that this was one time where I really really needed to take a stand.

I emailed him late one night, asking him A. if my C+ meant I had to retake the course, and B. if there was a time I could come in and speak with him this week about the grade. He replied with a:

"My office hours are posted on the dept. website."

Seriously, that was all he said. I read the response and was just like "well fine...jerk face." At that moment I just knew he was going to be a jerk at this meeting and was not going to listen to what I had to say. Of course, because I know everything...

A couple days ago, the morning of the meeting, I was so nervous I actually forgot to eat. Like, legitimately forgot. The last time that happened to me was during my senior year of high school when I was taking AP European History and therefore had exams just about every week. I'm not even sure why I was so nervous for this meeting...but if I had to guess I would go back to the whole "not being a confrontational person" thing; if you haven't noticed that's kind of my go-to excuse for everything. I was just so sure this guy was going to yell at me or say something to make me feel like a complete idiot...as if I didn't go through that enough when I was actually in his class last semester. Hmph.

Anyway, I spent that entire morning praying for patience, understanding, and strength. Over and over again. At one point I even bowed my head sitting at my desk at work, just mouthing the words "patience, understanding, and strength." Because you never know what's going to happen! 

Boy was that right.

When I got to the professor's office, naturally he wasn't there yet. I waited outside chewing on my fingernails for probably ten minutes (and it doesn't help that I just took the polish off last Monday so now I don't have to worry about accidentally ingesting nail polish when I'm nervously gnawing on my fingers...) and then he walked up, and the first thing he said was: "There she is!"

I looked around. Was he talking about me? What the fuck kind of greeting was that?!

He invited me inside, I sat down, he set down his (only slightly pretentious-looking) briefcase down before sitting across from me at his desk and asking me what it was I wanted to talk about.

"That freaking C+ grade you gave me last semester, you jerk face!" I wanted to shout, but of course I didn't...that would be extremely inappropriate. Instead I just told him about the grade and that I wanted to know exactly why I got it...aka. I wanted him to actually show me all the points I earned for his class. So he did.

And do you want to know what happened?

Huh?

Huh?

Do ya?

Do ya?

Do ya?

...is the suspense killing you yet?

It turns out my professor neglected to add THREE points of extra credit and FIVE points from an assignment he thought I had turned in an hour LATE but I had actually turned in two hours EARLY.

So long story short, I went from having 77 points in the class to 85 in just 20 minutes. 

My C+ is now a B+

But the (new) lesson is this: During this meeting with my professor, he actually told me that the lesson I should get out of this experience is to 

Not let anyone walk all over me.

Always question when something doesn't seem right.

Take a stand.

Be assertive...or aggressive...I can't remember which one he said.

Long story short, even though this "failure" didn't turn out to be such a failure after all, I learned that if something doesn't seem right or fair to me - like getting this C+ - I need to question it and be assertive in my belief that it isn't right. And that lesson on failure wasn't too bad either...God knows I'll be needing it later in life.

Wow...after writing all that out it actually seems kind of stupid, not gonna lie. You would think that "being assertive" or "taking a stand" wouldn't be that hard if something happened that truly bothered you...but for some reason for me it is, and it's been that way my whole life. I think - and this might sound a little like shrink talk to some of you, but hey I've been seeing shrinks for almost six years now so it wears off - somehow I have it instilled in my mind that if I make waves about anything then that automatically classifies me as a bad person, or that if I make waves about anything I'll get into trouble. 

I mean, that's kind of how it was when I was a kid, you know like if I made waves about wanting to go back to Mom's house because I missed her, when I was supposed to be at Dad's that weekend...stuff like that. It would just cause unnecessary tears and yelling or whatever and so now I just figure why cause any unnecessary tears or yelling or whatever? 

You would think there would come in a point in a person's life when they stop blaming shit they do now on crappy stuff that happened during their childhood and/or teenage years. Well, if any of y'all have reached that point please tell me your secret(s).

~Erin

P.S. In order to be more assertive and/or aggressive, this professor actually told me to purchase a pair of steel-toed boots and use them to kick people. Like actually. What.

The inevitability of failure.

Ultimately, we all have to decide for ourselves what constitutes failure, but the world is quite eager to give you a set of criteria if you let it.

Some failure in life is inevitable. It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you've lived so cautiously that you might as well have not lived at all, in which case you fail by default. 

You will never truly know yourself or the strength of your relationships until both have been tested by adversity. Such knowledge is a true gift.

So given a time-turner, I would tell my twenty-one year old self that personal happiness lies in knowing that life is not a checklist of acquisition or achievement. Your qualifications, your CV, are not your life...life is difficult and complicated and beyond anyone's total control, and the humility to know that will enable you survive its vicissitudes.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wHGqp8lz36c

I've probably listened to this speech at least ten times today, in part because it's by J.K. Rowling - one of my absolute favorite authors and inspirations - but also because it's something I've really needed to hear as of late. 

For those of you who don't know - or who didn't notice on Facebook - I made the decision to apply for Teach for America for the 2014-2015 school year, just to keep my options open after graduation. I should find out within the next few weeks or so whether or not I got accepted for a phone interview, and then whether or not I got accepted to enter the final (in-person) interview stage. Right now I'm confident about my application, but not to the extent that I'm sure I'm going to be accepted. I'm of the firm mindset that whatever happens is meant to happen, and if I don't get into Teach for America then that just means something else is out there for me - something I'm meant to be doing. I've left the application in God's hands, so we'll just have to wait and see if this is truly what He has planned for me.

Anyway, there was a portion of the Teach for America application that included a few short-answer questions, and one of them really stuck out to me. This is what it asked:

A characteristic we've seen in successful corps members is an ability to be honest about where they need to improve. As a corps member, what one skill do you suspect you would most need to develop? (Your reflection doesn't need to be specific to teaching).

I've found that when filling out a job application or doing an interview or what have you, I tend to freak out at that question just a little bit. Okay, a lot. Because you never really stop and think about what you truly need to improve upon until you're faced with a question like this, and in a job interview or application you have to be totally one hundred percent honest! Nobody likes admitting their faults, or okay I may be speaking too generally here so forgive me, but talking about things we need to improve on, or things we know we're bad at sometimes kind of...sucks, and it's incredibly difficult.

I went through quite a bit of personal reflection before answering this question; needless to say it was a lot of chewing on the end of a mechanical pencil and probably getting some kind of led poisoning before I really figured it out. The thing I most need to improve upon is my internal concept of failure and my tendency to be a little too self-critical.

Looking back, I don't think I've ever been so hard on myself over my grades as I was when I was in high school, because I was under the impression that if I brought home anything less than an A- I wouldn't get into college. And I had to get into college because I had to get the hell out of Eugene, Oregon. That was my mentality, and it worked for the most part. I graduated Sheldon High School with a GPA of 3.91 and acceptances (and financial aid packages) to more than one four-year university. Really, the only thing I wasn't proud of were my SAT scores...but we're not going to bring that one up. 

#thatsbecausetheSATonlytestsyourexamtakingabilitynothowsmartyouactuallyare #what #bitter

Once I got to Seattle University as a freshman, I eased up on that mentality ever so slightly because A. I had no idea if I wanted to go to graduate school or not - who cares what my grades were? and B. College, especially a small liberal arts college, is supposed to be really hard, and you're not supposed to get straight A's all the time unless you're like some kind of superhuman genius. But I found that I was able to both keep up with the work and maintain a decent GPA anyway - keeping me on the Dean's List for five out of the six quarters I spent at Seattle University (which I've actually always found ironic because I don't even know the Dean's name at that school...awkward...).

It wasn't until I reached the magical land of Occidental College that I stretched that mentality so far that it became completely transformed. Right away upon transferring I was thrown into this whole new world where students took four classes instead of three, and professors expected at least 110 percent for their class, no matter the class - core, 100-level, 300-level, you name it. I'm not afraid to admit that come fall semester 2012, I was scared. Not of the school per se, but of the idea that I would be forced to stretch my "perfection" mentality so far that it would no longer be "perfection;" it would be "normal."

Fall semester ended up going pretty smoothly for me. I made some pretty good friends, had some good adventures, met Stana Katic and Kate Walsh, and my grades were compatible with those I got at SU. I started winter break with the mindset that everything was going to be okay, that I made a good decision in transferring and I could survive the extremely intense and demanding academic life. 

And then spring semester 2013 started, and it was then I realized that the true test was only just beginning. Being the genius that I am, I stupidly signed up for Gen. Chem. to take as my lab science requirement, because I liked chemistry in high school and I was good at it. Also the professor here at Oxy had really great reviews and he was honestly a really nice guy. I also signed up to take my junior seminar class (for my major) with one of the toughest history professors in the department, and when I say tough I mean like "if you get a B you're like the star of the universe" kind of tough. Add both of those things to a couple of film classes, two jobs, rushing a co-ed fraternity (which I love), joining a new on-campus organization, going on one too many adventures that should have taken the back seat to my school work, some personal problems, chronic insomnia, and some bouts of undiagnosed depression...

It was in spring semester of 2013 that I experienced my first true failure.

Now, I realize my definition of failure might be very different from yours, dear reader, but for this post's sake, just bear with me. In spring semester of 2013 I received my first ever C+, the lowest grade I have ever received in my entire life, in my junior seminar class, and looking back at that grade yesterday while filling out my application made me realize that it's this harsh concept of failure I've invented for myself that's the one thing I need to change the most.

Last semester, my mentality literally got stretched into a long strand of silly putty. But actually, that's how I picture it in my head...I can only imagine how high school Erin would have reacted to seeing that C+ on her transcript. I mean, I cried at this stage of my life, so there's really no telling what could have happened then. 

My reaction to seeing that grade, like I said, included a lot of tears, followed by a phone call to Mom and a lecture about how I shouldn't worry too much because I'm still on track to graduate next May that left me feeling about sixty or so percent better. I looked at that letter and thought, I am a failure.

I will never get into graduate school. (If I decide to go...)

I will never get accepted into programs like Teach for America because they won't want to see grades like that.

I will never get a good paying job.

I will never make something of my life.

I am a bad person.

I can't do this.

Now matter how true or untrue, those were the thoughts running through my head, one by one, each cutting me worse than the one before it. These thoughts were like razors, piercing my skin just hard enough to break it, and I was left to feel the sting and watch the blood flow. I was thrown back to my sophomore year of high school, when I actually felt that sting, watched the blood flow. I saw my dark place, and it was welcoming be back like an old friend. I knew I had finally met my own definition of failure, and I had no one to blame but myself. Yes, I could have done some things differently last semester, and I could scream and yell at my tough-as-nails professor, but the point is I didn't, and yelling at him for unfair grading (which it kind of was because every grade I received on assignments in that class was a B- or higher so it doesn't really make sense why I got a C+...) now wouldn't accomplish anything.

I beat myself up so hard about this little letter, until I looked at the Teach for America application one more time and realized...it's just that. A stupid little letter, and that stupid little letter does not get to define me. That tough-as-nails professor does not get to define me. In case you want to know what I wrote in response to the question, it had something to do with how I need to stop being so harsh on myself with respect to my concept of failure; I need to instead take my "failures" and use them to better myself, and to do good in the world. There is so much good to be done in the world, and a letter does not get to stop me from doing it. Teaching young students how to be good and kind and smart people and make a difference in their lives and in the world is so much more important than my grade in a stupid junior seminar class.

Looking at it now, I'm kind of at that phase where I can see it as "just one C," but I still feel that sting of the "first time." I'm still struggling to accept what happened, but I'm also on my way toward accepting that some failure in life is inevitable, like Ms. Rowling said. Occidental is a really difficult school, and it's supposed to be. Every semester is supposed to push me harder than I've ever been pushed before; spring semester 2013 just so happened to push me over. 

But I'm not going to be pushed over anymore.

~Erin

The teeny tiny little senior seminar box.

Now children, I'm going to tell you a little story about something that happened to me in class today.

It was a Tuesday much like any other in Los Angeles - the sun was shining at a balmy 75 degrees, people were milling about happily...it was a normal day. I woke up in a decent mood, despite the fact that I only got four hours of sleep last night - I thought, eh, it happens.

The only thing that was not good about today was the fact that I had a presentation to do in my seminar class (for my senior thesis). I mean, the concept of this presentation didn't ruin my entire day; no, it takes something big like a midterm/paper/final/the cafeteria being out of pb&j (come on, they make it with Jif and who doesn't love Jif??) to do something like that. The only thing was - is - that I am a terrible public speaker. Yes, terrible.

Terrible.

TERRIBLE.

T

E

R

R

I

B

L

E

Like, bury your face in second-hand embarrassment terrible. 

I think you get the picture. 

Anyway, like the devoted student I am, I prepared my presentation well the night before, practicing to myself with my stopwatch, making sure I touched on all the right points, etc etc. I just knew I was going to do well - I was going to nail this one. (It also didn't help that I had a presentation last week too for this same class and if it were possible to fall flat on my face while standing still I would have...)

I actually went to class today looking forward to presenting my primary source(s) for my thesis project. I felt surprisingly confident to the point where I was disappointed when my professor told us we were going in alphabetical order, leaving me in the bottom four presenters. It was a weird first experience for me to say the least. As the students before me all went - and did very well mind you - I started feeling shakier and shakier, but not in a bad way like typical me. Seriously, I just wanted to stand up and say "LET ME GO I'M READY I'M SO READY I'M GONNA KICK THIS THING'S BUTT AND BE THE BEST THERE EVER WAS."

Haha.

Eventually, after what felt like hours but was really only about 45 minutes, it was my turn. I stood up - still feeling great - handed out copies of my notes to everyone, and made my way to the front of the classroom. I opened my mouth. I spoke.

"As you know, my topic is on the various representations of Queen Elizabeth I in film in the 20th and 21st centuries."

And then it happened.

"...20th and 21st centuries."

Erin, you dumbass THERE WERE NO REAL MOVIES BEFORE THE 20TH CENTURY. I messed up. Instead of saying "...from 1955 to present," I said "in the 20th and 21st centuries."

Oh no.

I messed up.

I messed up big time.

From that point on, I was thrown off. The room felt like it was spinning around me; there were all these eyes staring at me, from my girlfriends to the cute boy in the back (who I'm sure just I charmed the hell out of), and for a moment I could have sworn I heard the professor's voice in my head: what is she doing?

I had a whole slew of notes in front of me, right down to the actual article I was to explain. But as I looked down at them the words danced on the page - not in a dyslexic sort of way, but in an "I'm going to have a panic attack" sort of way. I wondered if any of the other students were asking themselves if I was okay, because I just stood there, saying "um" over and over and over...what was my next point supposed to be? Was it about the abundance of female sexuality in the New York Times review article about Elizabeth: The Golden Age (2007)? Was it about the modern concept of a single woman in power? I had not a clue.

I looked down, wishing I could melt into the floor, or fold myself into a teeny tiny little box where no one could see me. I was embarrassed and had no idea how to get out of the hole I had - however unintentionally - dug myself into without giving in to my looming panic attack. But I pressed on.

"The...the start of the article says..."

No! No no no! I was supposed to talk about that quote at the end! They don't need to know about Elizabeth's legs yet!

I managed to get through the first quote of the article, stammering on words that used to have meaning to me but now just felt like pennies in my mouth.

"Am I allowed to cry in public?" I thought to myself. "No, no I can't do that. I was raised not to do that." I was Mia from The Princess Diaries; the girl who runs out of class to vomit when she's forced to speak in front of everyone.

Luckily, the tears - or the obnoxious lump that forms in the back of your throat - never came (nor did the vomit)...because my professor saved me.

"Erin," she said calmly, like she hadn't noticed a thing wrong with me. "Tell us how you can use this article in your project. What purpose does it serve?"

Purpose...purpose...ah ha! I could answer that.

"I'm comparing this movie review to one written in 1955 on another movie about Queen Elizabeth, and using them to discuss the progression in female sexuality, and focus of the woman in film."

Exhale.

Students began raising their hands to ask me questions. This was good - I could handle their questions because it gave me structure, kept me out of my own head. Some of them even smiled at me - even better. Once I finished, even though I knew I was probably thinking way further into it than my peers, all I wanted to do - once again - was crawl into that teeny tiny little box and hang out there for like the rest of my life.

You see, the thing is, I wasn't always bad at presentations. Yeah I would forget paragraphs here and there when I was little, or I would stutter on a word or two in high school, but I was actually okay at it. But for some reason, once college hit, God was just like BAM! You're gonna suck at presentations now and I'm gonna make you work SO much harder so that you DON'T suck anymore.

Well thanks a lot. It's working.

Maybe it's just because it's my senior thesis and my graduation from college depends on it, I don't know. There's just something about this seminar class that turns me into a squirmy little guppy when it's my turn to present any information. I'm sure Professor Stone is super pleased about that too.

I need to find my confidence. I need to have more faith in myself. I need to figure out how to stop needing this teeny tiny little box to save me from situations like HIST 490. For now I've actually decided to call it the "teeny tiny little senior seminar box," because it seems to have taken up residence in seminar class for now, and to tell you the truth...

I've never been very good at kicking things out.

~Erin

New.

For me, the start of the school year always comes with the "start" of so many other things. The "start" of new relationships, new friends, new professors, new styles in clothing, new tastes in music...just a whole lot of new. Honestly, more often than not, all of that new overwhelms me to the point where I'm not sure what to do with all the stuff that floats around inside my head.

Lately it seems like even though schoolwork and my senior thesis should be the only things floating around inside my head, they're the last things on my mind. I find myself thinking about the future a lot, like an unnatural amount, and I can't really decide if it's because I'm excited to be done with school or just unbelievably freaked out about the prospects of...life. The future is a whole new level of "new."

I have very little idea of what I want to do with my life; the only thing I do know is that I want to write. I want to write a lot. I want to be able to take all those thoughts scrambled inside my head and put them down on a piece of paper or on a computer screen and turn them into something meaningful. Or I want to turn all the experiences I've had in life - good and bad - and turn them into something meaningful, as a sort of catharsis if you will.

I've been told - by more than one person - that when I try to write things anonymously, I'm not really very good at it. That's probably because I was more or less raised to be a very passive aggressive person. Okay, well I wasn't raised that way per se, not in the sense that my mom would sit me down and tell me never to say how I feel or to go around spraying air freshener around my dorm instead of telling my freshman roommate that she had a scent issue (no worries, it was a mutual hatred and she will never read this), it was just something I picked up on a long time ago that I can't seem to let go of. Because really, how do you let go of taking the easy way out of a difficult situation?

I'm sorry, this post is going off on a huge tangent...or so it would seem. I guess what I'm trying to say is that even though I should be thinking about how I'm going to get through this semester in one piece, instead I'm thinking about what I'm going to do with my life afterwards (and how long it'll be before I'm badgered about it to no end), and if I do end up spending my life in writing, how to go about doing it without being "passive aggressive" and offending people left and right.

I have so many things I can write about, but not a whole lot I can talk about, if that makes sense. Because talking about it would make it so real, so raw, and there are people out there who wouldn't understand. Writing is the easy way out of a difficult situation, in that it helps me sort through my head but it still doesn't really ever get out of my head. Ugh.

If only my thesis were this easy to write. If only it were jumbled around inside my head and I could just sit at a computer and type out 25 pages in like two hours. Wouldn't that be nice...

It's late. I should be sleeping.

I should be doing a lot of things.

~Erin

Dog days of summer.

Well folks, summer 2013 (for me) is officially coming to a close. I can't believe it's gone by as fast as it has, but of course when you're dreading a senior thesis-filled fall semester as I am, it's no wonder the months beforehand went by at warp speed. I think most of all this summer was a time of personal growth for me. Such as, I know who my real friends are, what makes me happy, and what I want to do with my life for the most part.

I've learned a lot of life lessons too; I've learned that...

You shouldn't be ashamed of who you are.

Sometimes, you can't please everyone.

Sometimes, you have to do what makes you happy. (See first lesson).

Sometimes, you have to stop thinking so much and just do.

Also, and this one is very personal to me, I have grown so much in my faith this summer. At this point in my life, I feel closer to God than I ever have before, and that's not an easy thing for me to admit, in part because there are a lot of people in my life who - although I love and adore them - are not close with God, and who in the past I've been afraid to be open about my faith around. Yeah yeah I know, you're not supposed to be ashamed about that kind of thing, but the thing is, I was. I was afraid that if I admitted to being a devout Christian I would immediately be judged as someone I'm not, because unfortunately there's a stereotype behind being a Christian; people automatically think you're this insane close-minded homophobic asshole, and let me tell you, 99% of the time that's not the case. Now, I am proud to stand up and say...

I AM A CHRISTIAN

I want to devote months - maybe even years - to missionary work, I want to be involved in my church, and I want to spend time every evening with nothing but the sunset, my green tea, journal, and bible. So there. Now you know, and I'm not ashamed. Whew.

But, just for good measure, let me tell you that I'm a liberal. Not a Democrat, a liberal. I was the first to cheer (and loudly) when part of DOMA went down last June. And I still Stand with Wendy, regardless of the current outcome. Don't believe me? Just check out my Instagram profile here: http://instagram.com/p/bB9FBfAm56/, here: http://instagram.com/p/bAt2dTAm1G/, and here: http://instagram.com/p/bAu4BPgm2U/.

So yeah. All in all, I'd say this summer's been a good one; in terms of actually doing things, I feel like a lot happened, at the same time not a lot happened, if that makes sense. I did a lot, but didn't do a lot.

On the one hand, once my job with Occidental's library started, I stayed in Los Angeles the entire time, save for like three days.

On the other hand, I:

-Basically road tripped up and down the entire west coast before my job started. Visited family and friends, frolicked, and had a really really good time.

The beautiful Willamette River in Eugene.

My only slightly immature dog, Addie.

Operation "Take Addie to the River."

Ye olde high school in Eugene.

The living room chair Addie always thinks is her bed.

U of O.

The lovely Oregon coast...

Seattle University. My old stomping grounds.

Seattle. 

Building blocks with the nephew (and favorite boy) Parker in Olympia. His two (and only) words: "Whoaaa!" / "Wowww!"

Aunt Sherise's cat, Harmony. He followed me into the bathroom.........

Oregon's Capital Building in Salem.

Deshutes River in Bend.

Mt. Bachelor. Yes, there was still snow on the road.

San Francisco!

Alcatraz.

I drove on this. Terrifying. Oh, and you don't pay the toll there...they take a snapshot of your license plate and mail the toll fee to the address listed on your car registration. Even more terrifying. #BigBrother

-Had two best friends visit me in LA.

Bre and me taking a selfie while drinking milkshakes (from Millions of Milkshakes in West Hollywood). Had to Instagram it or else it didn't happen...mostly because Miley Cyrus drinks Millions of Milkshakes too and we had to be cool like her. Yeah.

At Santa Monica beach. The one good hair day of my entire life.

Andre and me at Disneyland.

-Had a (three hour long) coffee date with a new best friend.

I don't have a picture of this because I suck. Sorry Isabella!

-Booked a plane ticket home to Eugene for the best friend Isabel's wedding in October. Huzzah! ...or whatever you say to people about to be married.

-Spotted Luke Wilson at Occidental's Alumni Weekend last June. Yes, he is an alum of my university. Win.

-Joined a new church and fell even more in love with God.

http://www.hollywoodcoc.com/

-Met some of the greatest people in the world at said church.

Hollywood Church of Christ 75th reunion picnic in Griffith Park. The egg toss tournament got serious.

-Went to a Dodger game (THEY PITCHED A NO-HITTER), and watched the movie 42 on the big screen.

-Went to Disneyland with Andre. His FIRST visit, ladies and gentlemen.

California Screamin'. Proof it happened.

"It's a small world after all..." Stuck in my head forever.

-Visited Chicago for three hours via. the airport at five in the morning thanks to a red eye flight (don't judge...I take what I can get).

If you look really closely, squint, close one eye, then the other eye, you can kiiiind of see downtown in this picture.

#TeamNoSleep

-Visited someone very special to me (and her sister and her dog and her best friend) in Siesta Key, Florida. It's really true what they say about Southern hospitality, y'all. Love it. Oh, and I tried my first legal margarita.

The Gulf.

Sunset. Don't be fooled...it was 167% humidity outside.

This water was borderline hot, I kid you not. Ha I rhymed...

Diesel, aka. Mr. D. A 15 pound Terrier who thinks he's a Great Dane.

"If there ever comes a day when we can't be together, keep me in your heart, I'll stay there forever."

...meanwhile Diesel barks at the water.

And of course I must finish with documentation of my first legal margarita...

-Survived the humidity in Florida. And the severe thunderstorms.

Literally three inches of water fell in about ten minutes. And I mean literally as in, really literally, not the bullshit definition that literally killed the English language. See what I did there?

-Hiked around LA. A lot.

Inspiration Point in Runyon Canyon.

Hollywood Sign in Griffith Park.

Mt. Fiji at the back of Occidental's campus.

Runyon Canyon.

Yes, this is a view of Madonna's old house from the path in Runyon.

The view from Inspiration Point in Runyon.

Griffith Observatory on a particularly cloudy Sunday.

Mt. Hollywood.

-Read 17 books.

 The Help.

Aside from The Help, every book I read this summer was - no joke - one of Luanne's. Brilliant author. But my personal fave was this one...I finished it on the plane ride home from Florida and sobbed.

-Had the parents visit me in LA. 

UCLA.

UCLA School of Law - Dad's alma mater.

Traditional mother/daughter selfie on the Santa Monica Pier.

"He has made everything beautiful in its time." - Ecclesiastes 3:11

~Erin

P.S. Orientation Staff training for this fall officially starts tomorrow morning. Basically, it means 7+ days of 13+ hour training sessions and no sleep. And then actual orientation starts. But it'll be fun! I'm looking forward to it...who needs sleep anyway?