Spring Semester

I secretly love the first day of classes.

Kind of like how I secretly love finals week,

and staying up all night writing papers,

and spending endless hours in the library cramming for exams.

I get this sick satisfaction out of it.

Seriously,

no sarcasm here.

Today is especially exciting because it's my last first day of classes,

ever...

...well,

until I decide I'm ready to take on all that is grad school.

But obviously I've got my suspicions that the first day of classes in grad school will not be

nearly as enthralling as they are here at USD.

I woke up this morning feeling hung over and upon turning off my alarm asked myself,

"did I even drink last night?"

No I didn't

obviously first day of school nerves were kicking in.

I put on my best outfit

(dingy white shorts and an old CASA t-shirt with the cute little hole in the front)

straightened my hair, threw on some mascara,

and left for school.

I'm definitely something to look at today;

all the little freshman in their cute matching shirts don't stand a chance.

After an uncomfortable ride on the tram,

coffee that tasted like my first summer away from home

and constantly wondering if I packed enough food for an 11 hour day on campus

I arrived at the business school

which is perhaps the one place I feel the most uncomfortable

And I actually called USD home for 3 consecutive years.

Seriously, why is a science class in Olin Hall

where the room numbers are in no comprehendible order?

I was banking on my class being full of wide-eyed freshman

who would entertain me for the next 4 months with their silly dorm room drama

who would become my allies

and let me sneak them beer on our field trip to the brewery

but sadly, and yes, I mean sadly

I found my class to be full of soulless, outspoken, brown-nosing, seniors.

And alpha-phi's at that.

GOD HELP ME!

Does it really matter if ALL your friends are in your lab section?

(I mean, come on - we only have lab 9 times this semester!)

Would you announce to the class that you have ALOT of friends

so you can't sit next to every single one of them?

Or propose a way to divide the class so all 14 of your friends are in your 16 person lab section?

Well, if you are a late arriving,

blond haired,

Starbucks carrying

I am better than everyone thinking,

God's gift to the world

alpha phi

then you would answer YES to all of the above.

True life - I have lab with the soulless girl in the second row

And all 14 of her bestest friends.

Now do you understand why I love the first day of classes so much!?

After wanting to shoot myself in the face I was greeted by

"so how do we feel about sex in the morning?!"

Thank God for normalcy.

I thought I was going to dread Friday classes,

but now I think I'm going to set my alarm early

to make sure I'm on time

to listen to a 45 year old woman

talk about sex for an hour.

Seriously, sexualities, I'm ready for you

and all your uncomfortable class lectures

and awkward documentaries,

and giggle fits with all my Sociology major friends who are NOT alpha phis.

I have one more class today

I think it's safe to say there will be no alpha phis in this one

Outdoor Leadership?

They can't possibly be interested in camping

and hiking

and getting dirty?

Only downside - 3 hours

Today is wonderful

An early morning text message started my day off wonderfully

And free mac and cheese in CASA for lunch was a great surprise

And tonight the Bachelor is on and Laila is my TV date

Hello busy schedule

It's nice to have you back

:)

Post Script: I do not dislike ALL alpha phis.

In fact, there are two I enjoy very very much.

But those in my Plants and People class

ohhhh myyyy.

Maybe...

And maybe it is the expectations we keep that prevents us from finding happiness.

Nothing. No one.

Is ever quite what we want.

Is ever deserving of our full attention.

Is ever enough.

And maybe it is the over estimation of our capacity to deal with emotional pain that breaks us.

Hearts were not built for recklessness.

Take chances.

Make mistakes.

But healing only takes place a limited number of times.

And maybe it is our acute awareness of our surroundings that causes us to lose faith.

Intuition is a gift.

An enemy.

To know is to lose.

And ignorance is bliss.

And maybe it is the intensity of everyones' confidence, everywhere we go, that forces us to constantly question ourselves.

Every ounce of confidence is merely a front.

An effort to shield ourselves from the vulnerabilities of authenticity.

Embrace your insecurities for what they are.

Be humble. Be unique.

And maybe believing everything happens for a reason just prohibits us from accepting that some things cannot and will not ever be justified.

But isn't that life?

Spontaneous and unexplainable.

Happening to you.

Not for you.

And maybe it is my friendship with a very interesting person that puts these thoughts in my head.

Perhaps I'm secretly a genius.

Or just full of shit.

Looking for something. Someone.

To believe in.

A Stranger's Kindness.

There have been very few moments in my life where I'm truly surprised by another person's actions because I've allowed my heart to be hardened. Hardened by all the crap this world spills out and the lack of visible good. All the pain and grief and sadness that overwhelms our right to be happy.

And because of this, I've found that I often lose my faith in humanity. Where is all the compassion? The love? The kindness that everyone is longing for?

Recently I'd lost this faith, not for any real reason, I just haven't seen the kindness that I expect out of people.

I'm exhausted. Exhausted because I've smiled at hundreds of people these past 24 hours with few sincere responses. Why is everyone so afraid of eye contact, acknowledging each other's presence, and genuinely replying to questions of well being?

I dreaded having to work a double shift today. I wanted nothing more than to nap all afternoon, cook dinner and watch a movie... but responsibility called and at 6:30 I returned to work to smile at insincere people for an additional four hours this evening.

But now, I am very thankful I was scheduled to work tonight because a single man restored my faith in humanity and allowed me to start my year off with a positive mind set.

A little boy came in our restaurant tonight in a wheel chair. It appears that he is paralyzed from the waist down for his dad had to life him in and out of the booth and carry him to the restroom. This particular family comes in for dinner frequently, and the boy always has a smile on his face and his best friend at his side.

After seating his family a young man seated at the bar came up to the hostess stand and told me he wanted to pick up the check for the table where the little boy in the wheelchair was seated. I asked him twice if he was sure... that there were 7 individuals at that table and dinner is by no means cheap... "yes, I want to pay for their meal" he assured me.

After a few minutes I came back to him a third time and made sure he really wanted to pick up their check and he announced to me in all seriousness "that little boy goes through more in a single day than you or I will in a year. I want to pick up their check." I stared at him wide eyed and nodded before returning to my designated spot behind the podium.

I wanted to hug this man. This man no older than 28 in a black zip up sweatshirt with a heart of gold. I wanted to hug this man and thank him. Thank him for his compassion, his kindness, his love.

I saw a happy little boy in a wheel chair tonight, and he saw years of pain and sadness.

For the remaining three hours of my shift I tried to find a reason for this man's generosity. He has a family member... a brother perhaps... in a similar situation as this boy. He's rich, what's another 200 dollars? It's a new year, why not start it off right?

But I've come to the conclusion that I don't care what his motive or reason for paying 200 dollars for 7 strangers to enjoy a family dinner. He did it, with kindness in his eyes, and no intention of this particular family ever knowing it was him. And that is enough. Enough to restore my faith in humanity, my belief that people are actually all good, and that compassion is ever present.

Thank you man in the black jacket.

Thank you.

Home's Lessons.

What I learned after spending 8 days at home:

I'm an adult now. If you didn't know, that's okay because apparently I didn't either. How did I come to this realization you ask? Well, my mother found it appropriate to remind me three times, "Taylor, just remember you're an adult now" before I opened my one of my presents Christmas morning.

Regardless of what you may have heard... bowling does not increase my sex appeal. I was in a bowling league during 5th grade and was mighty good might I add, but apparently my expertise diminished over the years and all that's left to show for such greatness was a measly score of 71 after 10 frames.

Maybe it isn't as appropriate to show up in your pjs when visiting friends at home as it is here in San Diego. I went to have dinner and play games with my best friend (since I was three) and not only did her dad (my second dad) ask how much wine I consumed because I'm a "light weight" as he put it, but questioned my attire when saying "Taylor, it sure was nice of you to dress up for me. Gosh." - Sorry Mike, I'm on vacation. You're lucky I showered before coming over. Love you! Night!

Apparently its cause for great concern in my house if I refuse to dress myself in discarded ribbons and bows on Christmas Eve, and even greater cause for concern if I'm not wandering around the house with an alcoholic beverage in my hand. What have I created of myself?!

Seven loads of laundry only means I have wayyyyyy too many clothes and am way too cheap to buy my own laundry detergent and pay 3 dollars per load. Transporting all this laundry back to San Diego was quite a task. Dirty laundry fits in one hamper while clean laundry fills an extra two trash bags.

It really doesn't matter if I put on a vintage dress, heals, make up, and curl my hair... I still look like I'm fourteen. You don't believe me? Well, heres a real life conversation between one of my mom's co-workers and me Christmas Eve day...

"Jodi! She looks just like you. How old are you honey?

"Oh, I'm 22"

"Oh my gosh! You look so young! I thought you were 14. But you're beautiful!!"

"Oh, thanks"

My dad and I are closer now than ever before. Perhaps its because of our daily trips to get coffee (where each time I lie about how good my coffee is and throw it away before he realizes I haven't finished it), bonding over our favorite U2 songs in the car, and endlessly shopping together for the perfect Christmas presents.

No matter how old I get... 20... 21...22, driving eastbound on the 91 freeway will always make me feel giddy, and no matter how old I get, Trey will always seem 16 and sharing a bottle of wine over dinner with him will always seem strange. (Also, my families awareness of my seeing said boy is pretty hilarious)

Home is my sanctuary. With a full size bed, cable TV, home cooked meals, and lots and lots of cuddling. Plus endless reasons to make my parents question my sanity, my intelligence, and my being in general... did they really give birth to such a politically incorrect, crude, and impolite child? Well yes, but parents, I only act as such around you... for the very reason of forcing you to question my sanity. It's quite entertaining :)

My Uncle Gary is quite possibly my favorite person alive. Not only does be buy me books for Christmas (he totally understands my need for fiction, oh, and overpriced clothing stores), but he sends me text messages about how pretty I looked the night before and humiliating videos from Thanksgiving which I would share but my roommate advised me not to, plus it wouldn't upload... maybe another time

I sincerely hope everyone enjoyed their time at home as much as I did!

Happy Holidays : )

The contents of a tiny box

In my dresser I keep a box that I pull out on rare occasions to remind myself of how loved I am. Inside this floral stationary box are my most prized possessions dating as far back as the day I was born. To an outsider it would appear random and meaningless... but each item inside has a story of its own and a reason for being stored in a special place.

In the midst of studying for finals and wishing so desperately I were home in Chino with my family, I pulled this box out for the first time this year and spent a few minutes reflecting on the contents of it.

Here is what I found...

* A total of 5 pictures

* A birthday card from the early 90s

* A strange pencil drawing

* "Why you are the apple of my eye"

* A prayer card

* A house key

* Random pieces of jewelry

* A candy bar wrapper

* An oval shaped piece of crystal

* Return address stickers

* "It's a girl" button from St. Joseph's hospital

* Yellow victoria secret underwear

* Varsity pins from my cheerleading days

* And an assortment of hand written letters, notes, and poems

* A guitar pick

I read the letters and notes and poems and cried. I looked diligently at the pictures and laughed. I tried on the jewelry and ran my fingers across the random objects and smiled.

I think everyone should have a little box of memories. It makes for a wonderful surprise and serves as the happiness you can't seem to find on gloomy days during finals week when your favorite new friend moves away and the only thing you have to look forward to is a week and a two hour drive away...

I love this little box of mine :)

And all the people who have contributed to it's existence.

Mommy

Daddy

Grandma and Grandpa Don

Grandma and Grandpa Gailing

Trey

Uncle Jeff

Amanda

Ryan

Uncle Gary

Fredo

Chubis

Matty

Rob

Sanjay.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Treyber

Once upon a time I fell in love with you...

Now you are 1,000 distant memories crammed in a cardboard box on the top shelf of my closet at my parents house two hours away.

Now you are an essay I wrote in 12th grade english stored in an envelope at the bottom of my dresser drawer addressed to you so one day when we are 40 I'll find you and send it to you.

Now you are the pajama pants your brother gave me for Christmas that I still wear even 6 years later because I refuse to get rid of them.

Now you are the stories I recall on Thanksgiving and Christmas to the people who once thought of you as one of us because you were so much a part of my life and they loved you for that.

Now you are a name I speak often to people who have never met you but know that I loved you first, before anyone else had the chance and that I had the privilege of experiencing my most awkward years with you.

Now you are a sadness I carry around in my heart because I was silly and made a terrible mistake that severed our friendship and put a distance greater than any 6 hour drive between us.

I'm sorry.

More sorry than you know.

You loved me first.

You broke my heart first.

Thank you for forgiving me.

Thank you for putting up with me.

Thank you....

Because my 'once upon a time' really did end with 'happily ever after.'

I Need You To Know

I need you to know that I can't do this alone

And alone is how I'm doing it

I need you. I need your unconditional love

your constant support, your friendship

Please don't judge me

Because I really need you to accept me

Maybe I am making a terrible mistake

Setting myself up for tears, and hurt, and regret

But maybe, just maybe... I'm not

Maybe it will all be worth it in the end

But let's say you are right and my heart shatters

You pick up all the pieces and sew them back together

You hold my hand, dry my eyes, help me to heal

I will remember your kindness forever

And one day down the road, once I'm whole again

I bet I'll be able to tell you that it was worth it in the end.

It was worth it in the end.

It was worth it in the end.

I need you to know

that I understand you are in a difficult situation

Because all you know is what I tell you

The contradictions, the sadness, the confusion

But you don't see what I see

And feel what I feel, and know what I know

Because sometimes words can't explain these things

And when I try they come out messy and jumbled

But I need you to know

That he looks at me with a curious sadness in his eyes

And it feels so right to be wrapped up in his arms

I need you to know

That I get the butterflies every time he kisses me

And when I'm around him my heart beats so fast

that sometimes I can't even respond to his questions

I need you to know

That he has an honesty I've never known before

And he isn't afraid to tell me what he's thinking

I need you to know

That he stares at me because he thinks I'm beautiful

And I fight off the goosebumps when he holds my hand

I need you to know

That we have conversations that last for hours

About life, our passions, who we are, and who we want to be

I need you to know

That he challenges me in a way I've never been challenged before

And that these challenges come from the best of places

I need you to know

That he scares me, really scares me

But it's exciting, and new, and different

I need you to know

That I catch myself smiling when I think of him

and that I've never felt more brave in my life

I need you to know what I can't explain

I need you to see what I see

Because I need you to support me

to process with me, to listen to me

Because sometimes I think I'm crazy.

But there is something that keeps me coming back.

And until I know what that is, I need you by my side.

Love me for me. Because I can only be me.

This is what I choose. So choose it with me.

Any maybe, just maybe... it will be worth it in the end

It will be worth it in the end.