Lucky You, Lucky Lucky Me

I have found that saying to myself "the cosmos love you and that's enough" kind of solves all my problems that aren't really problems. It makes sense why this kind of idea works out so well for the Christians -- it's the best balancing act. Thinking of your life, especially positively, in terms of the cosmos helps you maintain sight of the big picture. 

More importantly, it helps you not be so dependent on any one thing. To me, when I think about how the cosmos love me, I am thinking about how no matter what, at least one positive thing is happening in my life. If I weren't thinking of the love I'm receiving in terms of the cosmos but maybe instead if I said to myself "well, your friends love you, you get good grades and your parents are proud of you," I would be screwed. What if one those things stopped happening? Even for a day? I would feel significantly less loved, and that would suck. However, when I say to myself "the cosmos love you, and that's enough," then I can feel loved by sunny weather and a good cup of coffee and my professors and kittens and anything and everything.

If the cosmos love you, you can never lose because chances are there's always something, any one or more aspect of your life, loving you and giving you something positive. The cosmos love you, each and every one of you. And it's enough.

Won't You Shine, Shine On

You should listen to this song while you read this, because it's what inspired me to write this: Balmorhea by Marmalakes

I have this really incredible friend. She is framily, she is my roommate…. she is my friend. I am lucky to call her that. I think she would call me that, too.

I respect her. She is worthy of a lot of respect. She does this thing where she doesn't really give a fuck. I think sometimes she gives a fuck, at least on the inside, but it doesn't stop her. It doesn't stop her from putting herself out there, or defending what she believes in, or, one of my favorite things: it doesn't stop her from being hopeful.

You see, the world would not be as beautiful a place if she let it stop her. She creates, she loves, she lives. She REALLY does these things. It is so admirable. We should all do this more. I know so many incredible types.

She created this incredible video this summer. And, more than that, she gave it to the world so they could experience it. Doesn't that sound so scary? I mean, come on, how scary is the world. But, she did it. And people loved it. It changed them. The people, they talked about it. This is a big deal, my friends.

I really look up to her. She teaches me things. She comforts me. She gets me. She is my friend.

Mary Bryce is one of the greats. 

College 101

I had to write this thing for this thing and the prompt was "what mistakes did you learn as a freshman and what advice would you give to a freshman based on these mistakes?"

My answer is here. It's the perfect Lana mixture of cheesy and unbelievably wordy. Also, confusing. That is why I'm posting it here -- it's ME! Love ya XOXO etc etc.

For three weeks, I refused to be alone. I sacrificed sleep to hang out with potential new friends; I gave people I didn’t like a second chance (and then a third and fourth and fifth). I pushed and pushed my worn out, confused and overwhelmed freshman body.

It was a little ridiculous actually. My eyes would be burning from lack of sleep or I would be with a group of people who just weren’t for me and, yet, I would say to myself, “These could be them: my new best friends. My ‘college friends.’ If I leave now, I will have no friends and will be alone forever.” What did I tell you? Ridiculous. However, it was the beginning of college, and I didn’t know anybody or any better. Worst of all, nobody told me it was acceptable to be alone, nobody told me that the stereotype of college was false -- that nothing is fun all of the time, that nothing is “the time of your life” all of the time. I entered college with an idea of how college was supposed to be and whenever it didn’t coincide with my college experience, I felt isolated, so I refused to be alone. Let me be frank, the first three weeks of college were horrible.

Eventually, however, I learned the error of my ways. I let it slip to potential new friend #124 (currently my roommate and great friend) that I was having a rather terrible time, and in that blessed moment when a person goes from an acquaintance to a friend, she said, “Really? Oh, thank God. Me too.” And there it was, the first dose of medicine for my loneliness, the first step so necessary for good friendship: the admission that life isn’t perfect, especially not college life, and that we all struggle sometimes.

As time went on, I took this first step with many who are my great friends today. I learned again and again that people would rather be comforted than impressed by you, and that this is the nature of making true friends. In a matter of weeks, my college experience went from horrible to joyful.

I so passionately believe in this, what I learned last year, that whenever I happen upon a freshman, I tell them these things. They find it rather strange (who wouldn’t? It’s more of self-help book jargon than polite conversation), but I tell them anyway. I tell them in the hopes that, once they learn it for themselves, they will know to tell others and the freshman to come. I tell them in the hopes that this “college life is perfect” idea will be broken down and replaced with a more realistic and comforting idea, that college is a time in which you learn more than you knew to start with and that to learn these things, especially when from people, you have to be exactly and only everything that you are.

All These Kinds of Places Make it Seem Like It’s Been Ages

i can't decide if pangs of the heart are telling of anything worth writing down. i find i have heart pangs when i glimpse something, whether in a photograph or a memory, that i used to interact with regularly and then all of a sudden didn't. some of these things i don't think of that fondly. maybe these pangs of the heart are not telling of anything i don't already know so much as they are a reminder that everything that was had significance and a silver-lining even if i don't miss it. heart pangs are not an ache of desire, they are accountability. they hold me accountable to the idea that everything is grey, and even things that weren't the best still had something to offer.

if there were ever moments when i felt the rhythm of life

Sometimes, I think I am just a picture made of mirrors reflecting everyone else's voices and styles and thoughts.

This is my biggest flaw, I think. I am more a compilation of those that I love than I am a whole person.

I know not how to be alone. My mind is a thrift store, a quilt of mismatched patches, surprising polka dots, the best and worst of all the people around me... People wonder why I am so random.

Instead of holy books, I follow hand-me-down wisdoms. Instead of movies, I observe crowds. I love television shows because you get to know the characters over the course of seasons. I get absurdly attached to book characters who talk in first person, because their minds and monologues are mine to explore for about 2 to 300 pages.

I am all you are willing to give me.

All You Need

I have a lot of love in my heart.

I have so much love.

I have so much love, that I can't stay mad at people.

Sometimes, when I'm being ridiculous, I want to stay mad.

And, I can't.

Because, then I fall into my love again.

This is not a problem.

This love, it makes me excited,

and helps me get up in the morning.

It's like coffee, I suppose.

Suspiciously like coffee....

I don't love coffee though, I love tea.

But not nearly as much as I love the people I tend to drink tea with.

Or other types of drinks.

You see, I love to share these kinds of things,

drinks and food and laughter,

with the people that I love.

If that is all I did,

drink what I love with those that I love,

for the rest of my days,

I would be completely content with my lovely days and lovely life.

Happee

I am sitting here with a sweet kitten on my lap, listening to music that devours loneliness in a beautiful home and life that is more than anything I deserve, and I had to say something that attested to my fortune and happiness. I often feel this feeling after I write a ranty, self-righteous post like the one I wrote below. I am debating deleting it, but I am also trying to teach myself to stick up for what I believe in. I am a strange creature of juxtaposition -- the confused child of People Pleasing and Passion That Makes Me Over-Opinionated.

Anyway.

Let me start by saying I love kittens. I have gotten to know 3 kittens this summer (and one more hopefully) thanks to the foster program at the SPCA, and boy do I love kittens now. They are just so charming. And tiny. Fostering has let me practice Love and Falling In Love. I get to know them, take care of them and raise them a little bit and we practice loving each other. Oh gosh, it's just so great.

I love art, particularly written art. I am not sure why I love art. I think I love it because it makes me feel less alone and it inspires me. Also, art is like taking a shower. Or spraying Febreeze which I also appreciate very much. Every bit of new art (that I like) is refreshing. Like this... it's about raspberries:

she was the hollow part

where all the little seeds

came together to make one big fruit.

she was the five innocent raspberries

on his five little fingers.

-Jordan Greenberg

How great is Austin, TX?

One time a stranger told my friend that she didn't appreciate sadness. I know it was more complicated than that, but I still kind of hate The Stranger. That friend is one of my definitions of happiness (I have many including kittens, cookies, and love), and she brightens up rooms, situations, life etc. I appreciate how much my friend appreciates happiness. She is a role model because she appreciates and does" happiness" better than anyone I know. Happiness is great. It's like fuel. Like my dear friend, let's never take for granted happiness.

Have a happy, happy weekend, dears. 

The In-Flight Radio

Sometimes I feel like one of the worst things to do after you help someone who truly needs it (perhaps feeding someone or giving them shelter) is "feel good."

"Helping people makes me feel good." I hear this a lot. Sometimes from myself. I don't like this kind of response.

I don't like it, because I should not be pleased with myself for doing something that I am required to do. We are required to help each other and give people what they need as much as we can. I am not doing someone a favor when I give someone what they need -- I am just doing one of those life responsibilities. Do I pat myself on the back every time I breathe? Do I put on my resume how many meals I've had in the last year? Why are we so obsessed with the idea that helping people is optional? We are all entitled to getting what we need, and, with that, responsible for giving to others what they need if we can.


Now. With all of that being said, believe me what I tell you that I know there is more to this. That is all I have on the matter for now, but I am young and have only just started thinking about this. More to come.

I Get a Little Bit Bigger

I see Mary in here between the lines. Mary and her beautiful video that I haven't been able to shake for days now.
Mary's Video

Part of a letter I wrote:
Ellee, you are a fabulous, magical person. You light up rooms. You are one of the most loved people I know -- you deserve this love. I am so happy for you regarding Sam. He seems wonderful. I only met him briefly, but I know anyone that you choose must be wonderful. I am excited for your life together; for what you will do together. Sometimes I like to imagine what two stunning people would be able to do if they combined forces; I look forward to watching this play out in your marriage. You will change the world in one way or another. I like to think two people in love and dedicated to each other can do that. I'm almost positive they can. Actually, I AM positive they can.

This Family Sticks Together

I loved this very much.

http://www.buzzfeed.com/mjs538/steps-to-help-you-evolve-your-views-on-gay-marriag

And It Goes Like This

Summer is finally here.

Breathe deep. Sigh. Smile. Tilt your head back. Thank your lucky stars.

For a day, I reflected on the year I had had. I found it only took a day, though, because I had reflected so often with the best people to reflect with: those that had been there with me every step of the way. My fighters, my shoulders, my study buddies, my secret keepers... my new friends.



"Here we are again." Again.
The clocks paused as I traveled back to my parents' home
my old home, my first home
and then began rewinding.
Rewinding, rewinding.
I somersaulted back through every detail making up this past year
twisted through the memories
the quad, the laughs, the gross food, the beautiful connections
the pot lucks, the formals, the dreams and devilish ideas
until I crash landed back into the same spot as I was
the night before I left for it all.
It is as if I have regressed
I want to prove that it happened
and that it changed me.
But, I don't have to, because it did.
And it will be again.
And it is wonderful to be here anyway.

Besides, I have a thing for long walks down memory lane.

I Gotta Feeling

I think it's that time of year... no, time of life again. It's that strange time of life where the minute that I'm currently experiencing (its 8:37 pm) is torturous because, let me be real with you for a second, I don't want to write one more word about the Cold War, but the time of my life that I'm currently experiencing is fantastic. It is almost summer. I have reached that cliche point in my college experience where "I LOVE COLLEGE" is all I can think to say on the matter. I get to go to New York in five days. I am taking in knowledge like a chocolate addict eats Hershey bars (in excess and with love and obsession). Sara Khan will be in my unyielding grasp very soon. I have the most wonderful friends here at Hook Them University. And, hey, my mother's cooking is only a few weeks away.

Rawr.

Love, Lana

Thank you, Society.


"The body type portrayed in advertising as the ideal is possessed naturally by only 5% of American females."

-Collins, M.E. (1991). Body figure perceptions and preferences among pre-adolescent children. International Journal of Eating Disorders, 199-208.

It Was In A Dream

March 2nd?

Baha.

That was a long time ago.

What has happened since tHeN?!

Let me tell you. Let ME tell you. Let me tell YOU. Let you tell me. Let's tell each other.

Actually, I'm just going to tell you, because this is my blog and not yours.

I really like tea. This is a secret, and you're not allowed to copy me. I don't want you coming up to me and telling me that you suddenly really like tea more than you did already. I do NOT want to bond with you about this. I am just telling you that I really like tea. (Unless we already bond over this. You know who you are. No, not you. YOU... (Ros))

First off, this picture makes me lawl.

But, I really love The Hunger Games. 

They make me think and were quite pleasurable to read.

The boy in the chair a few feet away from me is picking his nose. Ew?

I just learned about these little guys! 

They're HAIR TIES. Cute hair ties. 

I might invest in some later in life.

I cannot wait to decorate my rom next year. I've already started hoarding ideas on Pinterest and on lists in my phone and computer. I know for sure it will look like this:

But it will also include things like tapestries, jars, books, cozy lamps and chairs and BEST PART: Jordan Greenberg! She's great.

It is important for you to know that I love my friends. I love them so much. 

They are passionate and beautiful and inspiring, 

and I don't know why they talk to me, 

but I love every minute of it. I hope that they know that.

 I hope they know that each one of them means the world to me.

This creeper is nice, too. 

This is where Trent will be living next year! 

(And three other special people, too, but I don't know if they would be okay with me essentially putting their addresses online!) 

Trenton, Austin awaits you! 

I cannot wait to go to see The Troubled Sluts Club's shows. 

(Trent and Mary are starting a band)

I'm going to Bonnaroo with Claire, Rob and Trenton! 

According to my Bonnaroo app, 

there are only 55 days, 13 hours, 10 minutes and 48 seconds 

left until that exciting time!

I will be making these next time I go home! 

They are pretzel, chocolate chip, peanut butter cookies. 

In the words of Mary Bryce, "doesn't that sound divine?" 

At that time, I will also get to see my family of funs and Al... 

all of whom I miss kind of terribly.

Now, I am off to do a million things. 

As usual. 

But, I love it. I hope that you are happy. 

I hope that you enjoy your life and realize how lucky you are. 

I also hope you realize that other people deserve a life as great as yours

 and that you should do what you can to make other people's lives better. 

I hope I make your life better.

I'll Tap the Break While You Crack the Window

The Carter residence. A place on a warm map where comfort and happiness are the only thing that matter. It's perfection this home. Perfection because of the people that call it home -- Murphy Carter makes more sense to me now. This home houses food that makes your heart melt, tissues that give your nose a hug, hearts on sleeves, comedy competition and quick wit, generous giving, genuine kindness. I do hope the 3 Carters are in my life for good.

The Crumpled Sticky Note of Worries

(Pardon the grammar errors and such. It's quite late, and I'm quite tired [of school...])

There are moments in life that, when I look back upon them, have me wishing for the ability to travel through time. Moments that make me crave the ability, no, the opportunity to go back and just give my darling younger self a hug.

It is as if I'm watching her in a movie, except it's the film screen behind my closed eyes. I look back and see how I anguished over something that worked out beautifully, although I had no way of knowing it would at the time.

I then experience this strange feeling that I owe it to myself to go back in time and comfort that poor girl -- give her hugs and play with her hair and assure her that things will turn out fine... only time and honesty are ever needed.

Perhaps I will start writing letters to my future self. Although it's reversed and basically unrelated, I do hope it will help throw comfort through time. One) write a testament of how things have worked out in the past, two) save it for one of my future anguished moments, three) see if the reminder in the beauty of things working out helps.

Time is so strange. 

It's the Magical, Mystery Kind

I'm trying out a new life motto. It's kind of crazy. Or, at least, it goes against parts of my Sunday School teachings. I also stole it from a really good movie. The thing is... I think it's a good one. One worth keeping in my back pocket, pulling out for inspiration, tacking up on the inner walls of my mind. The other thing is I think it's one that'll be hard to shake free. I say that because it's one I sort of live by already and have heard in different forms before. We met in the middle, me and this motto.

The motto: We are entitled to happiness and we will be happiest in that happiness when we show gratitude for it. We are entitled to as much happiness as we can handle. If I am not happy, I have the right to seek it... To search around every corner of the earth and in every heart I encounter -- I am entitled to do these things to find my sweet happiness. I have to stop only when I die. And, at that point, I will look back upon my life and smile from happiness about the happiness I was lucky enough to have. I will always throw my arms up and around someone or whatever and express my undying gratitude for my happiness.

While this sounds self-serving and selfish and other scary words with "self" in it, I don't worry about that. I know that I am my most genuine, my kindest, my most generous and charitable, my smartest and sweetest form of myself when I am at my happiest.

Portait Project Phase II

Photography Class Adventures 1

We had a photography project to make a comic story out of two images.
Here is my final result:

"Adventures of Jane the Hungry College Student"

Wait.... What?

I keep ending up at this "new post" page without a clue of what to write about. It's weird because I have had plenty of ideas. However, they all seem to leave me stranded right when I need them. I'm serious -- I imagine myself in my mind of a room looking around confused because, all of a sudden, it's empty and I'm quite alone. My stomach eats itself for a second when I imagine doing this on an essay test. Ew ew ew essay tests... My worst nightmare. Why am I talking about this? I have one coming up. In a long time though. I can't help but feel like these past one hundred-and-eleven words pretty accurately allude to how I've been feeling this past week or so: frazzled, jumbled, slightly dazed. I pity the persons who have to converse with me these days.

Me being frazzled in the library.

Portrait Project Phase I

You think you know them. And you do. Or, at least, you feel as if you're grasping an idea of them. I returned here this January for another new semester but under completely different terms than the last time I came here for a new semester. I had friends this time, familiars -- what a vastly huge difference. And now, I am doing a photography project to mark my idea of the people I've come to know. I've attempted to capture how I view them at this moment. It might change as things do, but at least I'll have these ideas, images, moments recorded. Here is the first round...

Trenton

Murphy

Mary

Sadie

Luke