Little Things: 2.0

One of my very first posts (seriously, back in 2014!) on this blog talked about “the little things” in life. It’s unanimous that we humans love talking about the little things, no matter how cliche and trite our discussions of little things can get.

I’m here to write a “Little Things: 2.0” post, simply because I just can’t get enough of freakin’ little things.

I love the feeling of my sister’s dog as he lays on my derrière in the mornings. (Weird, I know.)  Kasper’s routine: wake up. Eat breakfast. Go sleep with Kaila on Kaila’s behind. He snores, and when my alarm goes off at 5:45, he groans.

Shuffling down my block at 6 a.m.–it’s only me and my adorable neighbors (I say that respectfully), and I savor the darkness and the quiet. My neighbors are so cool; the woman runs and runs and runs at the same exact pace; she sometimes walks with her husband and carries teeny pink weights as she pumps her dainty arms. I’d bet money that those arms, as slight and petite as they are, could still pack a punch. She just keeps going and going and going. I go, but I can’t go and go and go.

Not yet.


That’s me trying to emulate the opening track of any Star Wars film. The soundtracks are often my running music of choice; might as well gain inspiration from the Jedi, the rebels, and the Empire. Sometimes I don’t want to listen to words at 6 a.m.; I have to stare at words all day. I just listen to epic music and, in turn, I feel pretty darn epic.

Coffee. Coffee was mentioned in my first “Little Things” post, and not much as changed since 2014.

Lunch. I have about a 10-15 minute lunch break between two [wonderful] jobs, and those moments spent in silence driving from point A to point B while nibbling on a turkey sandwich, a handful of chips, and string cheese are often just the right amount of fuel I need to conquer the rest of my day.

Finally falling asleep after a restless night. That’s what I’m about to attempt, so wish me luck. Thanks for sticking with me, friends. It means a whole lot to an aspiring writer for real actual humans to read words that I hastily type into WordPress’ handy word processor area thing. That was eloquent, I know.

Seriously. It means a lot.

Good night, and I hope you all take a little time out of your busy days to find and appreciate those stinkin’ little things.






Real People Clothes

Welcome to the first installment of a brand-new category: “Adulting!” (Word first penned by the glorious Kelly Williams Brown; her book Adulting is seriously one of my favorites). I know I have a category entitled “College,” but I think it’s time to begin writing about my misadventures in the adult world.

As I began two bigger-kid part-time jobs this week (both involve actually using my English degree; I’m over the moon and I am enjoying learning two different aspects of the writing biz), I realized something:

I have never worn “real” clothes for an extended period of time.

Let me explain. I was a Catholic school girl throughout my primary and secondary years; I experienced K-12 in more or less a plaid skirt and an assortment of polos and pinafores.

When I arrived on the college scene, I was a college athlete who was fortunate enough to get a whole different kind of uniform–team t-shirts, team sweats, team shorts, team shoes, team everything. Most days I wore athletic gear to class, give or take the few “cute” outfits I would wear on the weekends or a precious day off. I could get away with just having a few favorite items in my closet.

At Disney I wore my blueberry costume on the daily; on my days off I would wear my Disney-fied tanks and a few Disney bounds and my worn Tevas.

When I got home from Disney a couple of weeks ago and began applying for jobs, I realized that my “adult” closet was scant. I had a few thoughts for society as I skimmed through my closet:

“What do you mean I can’t wear my sparkly silver Mickey Ears everywhere I go? They’re neutral; they go with everything.”

“Could I get away with wearing my tiara to an interview?” 

“Hot Topic disney items aren’t acceptable office wear?!” 

Of course I knew the answers to the questions above. I’ve looked at Pinterest; big-girl jobs require big-girl clothes.

I had a few things, sure. A skirt. A few plain tops. One pair of black ballet flats that I really do adore.

I just didn’t feel Pinterest-worthy.

The challenge of my two new jobs was not the job itself–I knew I would learn my way around the offices and find my voice. I found the challenge was figuring out what to wear.

Shopping commenced. The other challenge: find budget-friendly items because your home girl wouldn’t be paid for another week or so.

That’s when I discovered the beauty of purchasing a few key items in which you could mix and match with the stuff you already own. I found a gorgeous dress to pair with a black cardigan, a black skirt to pair with a variety of tops I own, and a poncho that was just too good of a deal to not pass up. It also reminds me of the flying carpet from Aladdin. That was possibly the deal-breaker, but we won’t say it was. All outfits could be paired with my ballet flats I love so much.

I think I’ve started building a pretty respectable adult wardrobe.

If you’re having trouble putting together a respectable adult wardrobe, don’t fret my friends. I was able to put together something decent and survive a whole week of work. I also have some pretty cute things to wear for the coming week.

I hope you have a wonderful week, friends. Crush the adult world. Do all the adult things, like laundry and organizing and conquering tasks at work.

I know I’ll be trying to.

Please enjoy my wannabe fashion-blogger photos of three of my favorite “adult” outfits: 




Falling Down a Rabbit Hole

In honor of today being Disney’s Alice in Wonderland release date (July 28, 1951), I wanted to pay a little tribute to the movie and the curious little girl who inspires me as I go through my young adult life.

I’m a girl in her early twenties–I’m scared out of my mind quite more often than not. I don’t know what’s in store for my life; I can work hard and try a lot of different things, but success is never guaranteed. That’s scary.

I often feel like Alice–she tumbles down a rabbit hole, pursuing the flighty white rabbit (a metaphor for dreams? Goals? Aspirations perhaps?), and ends up in a very strange, wondrous place. Everything is backwards from what she is used to, and the inhabitants often make no sense at all. She encounters dodo birds, disappearing cats, a little mouse that seems to be drunk more often than not, and a really mean, scary lady who’s determined to decapitate the entire population.

It’s a mad house.

Sometimes I imagine the “adult” world is a version of Wonderland–there will be people who don’t give a darn about you and your pursuits, you’ll hear talk and jargon that you’ll barely understand, and there’ll be people who are after your head, your success.

You’ll just want “everything to make sense for a change.”

I also think Wonderland (aka “Adultland”) will also be wonderful and exciting. Alice found a world full of color and vivacity: talking flowers, mazes of bright green, and tasty treats that made her height fluctuate. I think there could be wonderful things waiting for me (and you) in Adultland. Things that don’t make any sense can be exciting and wonderful.

Alice has also sparked a certain curiosity within my nature. I love taking a cue from this little adventurer–I’m always wanting to learn and soak up many different subjects, cultures, books. You name it. Being curious keeps the soul young. Wanting to learn and experience new things is a really good thing. Alice couldn’t settle for ordinary. Of course, once she discovered that the unordinary could be a little scary and chaotic, the ordinary was waiting for her to return, there for her to recover from the stimulation of Wonderland. That’s how home is to me. Once I’ve had my fill of adventure, I can always return home to recharge, to regroup. Home is always there, Just as Dinah (that little cat Alice is so fond of) will always be there for little Alice.

Alice in Wonderland can really serve as a fitting metaphor for a wandering twenty-something. I think it’s the anticipation of the journey to Wonderland (Adultland) that’s the hardest. You want to know what it’s like; your curiosity overflows to the brim. I feel like Alice as she lays in the meadow filled with flowers, singing of the day where she’ll have a “world of her own.”

Until then, I’ll be content up in my tree, petting my Dinah, and listening to my sister read from a book (not really. This is what Alice did, of course). I’ll realize how wonderful it is to be content and comfortable, and gear up for my own journey to Wonderland.

Happy birthday, Alice in Wonderland. You’ve kept audiences captivated since 1951, and for that I couldn’t be more grateful.