Hakuna Matata

Today, I found myself back in high school and no, this is not as awful as it sounds. After my precious group of fourteen year old tweeny boppers defeated my alma mater Westmont High in our first game, we gathered for a team dinner. Needless to say, I found the 20 year old version of myself having some serious high school fun. For two hours, I played ping pong, witnessed back hand springs gone awry, listened to songs by the Jonas Brothers, and wondered where the time has gone. Alas, I can't really say I don't know where the time has gone because I do in fact know exactly what I have done with my three years out of high school.
I have lost friends I would have been at my own team dinner with three years ago. I have gained a boyfriend that laughs at my horrendous jokes, sits by my side through Gossip Girl marathons, and loves me unconditionally. I have watched my mom survive Cancer. I have lived three years outside of the bubble I perfectly molded for myself for four years. Looking at my team, I could not help but suppress a twinge of envy for their carefree ways. After all, the biggest crisis of the night seemed to be what to dress up as for the next home game and whose football jersey one would love to wear. My girls laugh when I tell them this but the truth is, the three years I have spent venturing out of my bubble have been guided by them. There is no where else in the world one can go when a loved one is diagnosed with the ugliest of diseases, and spend the afternoon laughing as if Cancer was never even invented. Thankfully for me, I have that escape. Each and every day I get to spend my afternoon doing what I love and go home to a boy and family who are proud of me.

Channeling my inner Carrie Bradshaw

Oh, the world of blogging. While I have secretly longed for a studio apartment with a window overlooking Manhattan and my Mac Book eagerly awaiting my words just like Carrie Bradshaw, I have never brought myself to become a blogger. Well, here we are friends, writing my first blog (although not in my beautifully fantasized Carrie Bradshaw-esque apartment). As a Creative Writing major, I find myself at all times of the day consumed with words, thoughts, and inspirations knocking on my brain to let them out. Song lyrics especially are ringing in my brain screaming, "write about me!" Shush. Ironically, this creative writing major would much rather spend time coaching my adorable little field hockey team, working at my incredibly loud Greek restaurant, or catching up on my DVR, instead of writing down my waterfall of thoughts. My grandpa always told me when I was younger, to write things down the minute you think of them. Thoughts are precious. One afternoon in the 1989 Mercury Tracer back when I was in third grade, my grandpa pulled over on the side of the road after seeing an amazing looking cloud in the sky above us, and commanded me to write what I felt, saw, and thought about it. Third graders don't know much about poetic language but what I did know was that I felt the same inspiration my grandfather did at that moment. So I followed suit and wrote my first ever poem, "The Mysterious Cloud," which, to this day, is in a chest in my room as a reminder that thoughts are precious. So, for those of you interested enough to read this blog and encourage me to begin posting my poetry, short stories, and hopefully the beginning to a novel I plan to write, thank you... I have no one to please but you.