The Good, the Bad, the End

Well, I guess it's nearly the end. I feel like I'm army-crawling over the finish line of this summer, but I made it. I had some awesome times, and got some awesome laughs and pictures out of it, but I'd be lying if I said it was the best.

Many people who know me are aware of my opinions about returning to Stafford every summer, due largely to the fact that the few close friends I had in high school here have moved away, and I've never been able to find a job that didn't make me miserable (except for pet-sitting- I will never stop taking care of my neighbor's big dogs whenever they ask me... and loving it). So to be frank, with some specific exceptions, this summer was lonely, tired, and sometimes downright depressing. There it is. I can't pretend it was anything otherwise. I was forced to reach out to God day by day for strength and joy, and He showed up in cool ways and (as He does) provided me with exactly what I needed, right when I needed it.

But as I'm not Him, I still don't get His methods. I don't understand why every good job opportunity I had before or during this summer fell through or didn't pan out. I don't understand why every single friend I've had here has left at one point or another, leaving only me behind. I know that suffering produces endurance, and character, and hope, and that He knows my way when I don't...but that's about as far as I've got. Maybe that's as far as I'll ever get.

Either way, I'd rather recap some of the good that did happen.

I read the entire Harry Potter series for the first time, as well as a couple other great books.

I visited my family in California, and my older brother-like cousin Anthony took me to see the giant sequoias. It was a day packed full of so many things that I love: big trees, making fun of tourists, low-level hiking, trees, ice cream, reveling in nature, amazing photography opportunities, giant trees, spending time with Anthony, and did I mention the trees?

My dear friend Madison got married, and as a result I was in my first ever wedding. It was the bomb. I met some insanely amazing girls that were easy to befriend in a weekend, and watched Madison and her beloved exchange some seriously beautiful vows at a ceremony that made me cry with joy.

I finally achieved mermaid-length hair, you guys. I did it. It's been a long and tangly road. But we made it. 

I also went to the beach a couple times, and swam in my neighbor's pool enough times to get a decent tan (which I know I will appreciate when every day in London is rainy). Madi swam with me sometimes, and we pretended to play pool basketball and laughed until we almost drowned. Then we'd go to a fair, or a Korean spa, and live it up. She is the best person to be a kid with.

My roommate and I visited a couple times, and it was so, so sweet to get some one-on-one time with her at our respective houses before we both go abroad at separate times this next year. I realized just how much I love being a girl with her, and how wonderful it is that she is so unashamed about wanting to be a couch potato. I need that in my life.

And last and best of all, I hung out with Josh. A lot. We had countless adventures(I learned croquet! We rode 15 roller coasters in one day, all in the front row!), a couple epic road trips(using no GPS, only manual mapping), and awesome, awesome talks. He became my best friend even more than he already was.

I mean, come ON

But more than anything else, the bright spot of this summer was being able to look ahead. And that's what I want to talk about now. I'm studying at the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Art this fall semester (I leave in 12 days!), getting my certificate in Classical Acting, and I want to properly document my experiences living in one of the coolest cities in the world. So I'm taking this as my opportunity to officially close the door on this blog, and start a new one based around my travels this fall.

It's bittersweet. This blog has seen me through some of the best and absolute worst times in my life, and it's not exaggerating to say that writing here helped heal me many times. I've cultivated my love of writing, kept myself accountable to growth, measured important milestones, and processed deep sorrows and incredible joys on here. It will always be dear to me. But despite my deep resistance, I'm growing up, and it's time to start a new chapter. (I'm cringing just typing that.) 

If you have been reading this for most or all of these past 5 years, thank you from the bottom of my heart. Being able to hear people say that anything I wrote affected them positively was always such an encouragement, as was the knowledge that I may have been responsible for the genesis of several other blogs out there. I feel confident this little Blogspot is leaving a nice legacy behind. I will never forget the imprint this page, or you few precious readers, had on my life. 

*raises glass*

To the longest diary I ever kept. May its turmoil of emotional, heartwarming, sometimes-genuinely-mortifying ramblings always inspire me to write-and speak- the truth.

Signing off,

The Erdelatz Kid

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you'd like to read my new blog, by all means, do (or don't- I'm never one for self-promotion). Here it is:

https://talesfrompaddenswickroad.wordpress.com 

Summer 2016: Teaser Trailer

Well World... here I am. Again. Feeling very small and lost in the humid, heavy-trafficked purgatory of Stafford County; finally, blissfully free of deadlines and 17-hour days, while realizing that on the other hand, maybe having nothing expected of me whatsoever isn't as satisfying as I thought. I feel like I've finally cut myself free from a boat that contained a snarling tiger (like in Life of Pi) only to realize that the boat was also my only supply of food and water and I am now adrift.

I suppose I'm lucky. I get to be lost. This time in my life will conceivably never appear again, and for the most part I'll always have something expected of me, so I should be glad for this "rest," right? But I could do everything from climb Everest to carbon freeze myself for the next three months and for the most part, it wouldn't matter in the least... and that's a lot of power. Too much, you might say.

Oh, don't worry. I have plans. I mean, I'm not totally aimless. Oh, what are they? Ha. Ha. You'll see.

For instance, I'm going to unpack tomorrow. I'm going to rearrange my room. I'm going to fill out some job applications, get started on my passport renewal and maybe clean my car.

(Should I not say that? What if I don't get around to it? That seems like a big promise to keep. I should be more realistic.)

Tomorrow is unpacking day. There.

I'm trusting. I'm trusting. God can do anything, and while right now I'm desperately hoping that will entail a cool job and a new friend or two, I know it could be anything. But things are coming. I know it. Who knows? Maybe I'll actually be sad when it's time to leave for England. (Yeah right.)

*raises glass* To the last summer of The Erdelatz Kid. May it go out with the bang of a nuke.

(Oh I didn't tell you? We're ending an era, folks. Starting in the fall I'll be starting a new blog detailing my travels abroad. It's time. This one has served me well, and I shall tip my cap with gratefulness when the moment comes to retire it. So know that it's coming.)

A Grand Irish Metaphor

Here's a funny thing. You can retrace my recent life steps by looking at the places where I've interacted with Ireland. So let's do it. Buckle up, lads and lassies.

Music
So I still work at Chester's (score), and last night while pouring lattes, as the same Sleeping At Last songs and Jukebox the Ghost songs played on repeat for the millionth time, I realized I needed a musical upgrade. And recently I found it in The High Kings. They're folksy and melodic and fun. You've probably heard "Galway Girl," but guys. There's so much more.


(I've selfishly played this one in Chester's a couple times, and when the bagpipes kick in I get really wistful and patriotic without knowing why.)


(In case you haven't heard it, have fun.)

(This one isn't a recent find, but I'm pretty sure this singer is Irish. It's also from one of my favorite shows. It's the best song to listen to on rainy nights. Whenever I listen to it I cry a little. Including while I'm working.)

Chester's is a good segway into Sweaty Tooth (improv troupe) because this past Monday we actually did a free blizzard show during my shift (Is there a word for 100% stressed because there's a line for drinks out the door but 100% amused and joyful because you're simultaneously doing a scene from behind the counter? Because that was me.), so it's kind of a link to improv comedy. We have the College Comedy Festival coming up in a week! Tons of colleges from the greater Boston area bring their teams to compete in different categories and I like to think that it's where the next SNL stars are formed, or something. We've been doing zany drills and different games to prepare for it and build our confidence, and it's super intimidating, but then I go listen to bits of Amy Poehler's audiobook again and remember that just maybe I can do anything. Maybe?

Romance
I saw the movie Brooklyn recently. First of all, wow. Go see it. Second of all, go listen to the film score. Thirdly, I saw it with Josh. (Who's Josh?) For those of you who don't know...

We're dating. I call him lots of things, but one title I'm trying out is boy-o because it sounds (you guessed it) Irish. That's pretty much all you need to know. 

But also, the Brooklyn score is fantastic and beautiful and I listen to it while walking to class in the mornings and trying not to slip on the ice and snow. 

Oh, the snow! Yeah, that's a super awesome thing that I'll probably never tire of. 

I have better boots this year. They make me feel beautiful and powerful. I've made a couple distinct, non-invasive paths across the quad that gets me from my dorm to the library or the arts building, and I step in the same boot-holes every time I use them. I like to think that the reason the rest of the lovely field of snow hasn't been disturbed yet is because others are using my path too (not just that I'm the only dork who wants to trek through the snow).

The U.K. in general

This one's kind of a big deal. I'm thinking about going to London for the fall semester of junior year. (Yikes!) The London Academy of Music and Dramatic Arts (LAMDA for short- Benedict Cumberbatch went there, as did many notable performers) has a classical acting semester program that I'm applying for. There are many wonderful things that doing so might entail (Ireland and Scotland are literally RIGHT THERE, for example, and I'd have my own small apartment in freaking LONDON), but one possible con is that it might mean I can't do a double major in English. 

Because I recently became an English minor! (Whaaaaa-?!) I know, right? It's amazing. For my intro class, we just read poetry and short stories and journal about them. Then we go to class and our professor reads us children's books and we have amazing discussions. I wish I was kidding. (No I don't.) It's too good to be true. 

Meanwhile, I'm updating my acting resume for my application (and Gordon's spring show that I just auditioned for- another life event for you) and staring at pictures of the Cliffs of Moher trying to imagine what it would be like to actually be there.

So there ye have it. Some of it, anyway. I'm still working on figuring out if I have a spirit animal, but if a person can have a spirit culture (is that a thing? and is it offensive?), mine might be the Irish.

To the Cliff-Jumping Wildflower

The shortcomings and inadequacies of the written word are abundantly clear to me this morning, because Sarah Labanc got engaged yesterday. The world has shifted on its axis a full degree, I think.

It finally happened. The blue, brown, freckled wildflower with windy hair and perfect teeth and an afternoon sunbeam spirit found a friend for life. She made it, and that means we're all going to make it in our own way. As she tumbles into the unknown, gazelle-bounds into the grandest adventure she could possibly conjure, leaps off the oceanic cliff of all cliffs, she takes her dreaming, filled-to-the-brim, kaleidoscopic mind with her, and that beautiful gleaming pinpoint of hope will glimmer deep within my consciousness for eternity.

When I saw the small, declaratory rectangle on Facebook, the fuzzy edges of sleep were blasted like lightning from my head, and when my imagination had caught its breath, all I could hear were these words:

http://sarahlabanc.tumblr.com/post/39498753289/dear

http://sarahlabanc.tumblr.com/post/41561090655/dear

http://sarahlabanc.tumblr.com/post/37098669447/dear

http://sarahlabanc.tumblr.com/post/28557215230/dear  (this one.)

I read them and wept without knowing why.
I remembered what she'd wished, and feared, and hoped. I remembered how I'd studied her like a painting and hoped those things too. And suddenly, inexplicably, I was terrified and needlessly protective. I scrutinized his Facebook page, this future Mr. Sarah. I was suspicious and hesitant to give in, like a child that has been given a puppy it didn't get to pick out at the pet store. Two things made me do it. One was a single shot in their roadtrip montage video. They were eating ice cream cones in the car, and he looked over at her impishly, and there was her girlish, whimsical dimple. This told me he too had a child heart, that he knew and loved the girl. The second was the ring. Plain, gold, elegant with a humble white opalescent stone, it embodied her spirit in a way no physical object will probably ever personify. This told me he knew and loved the woman, and in her entirety. I stared at the picture of them together- snow dusting their shoulders, beaming, her left hand curled against his sweater- and I could see their dimpled, blue-eyed children.

So she did it. She found her hand to clasp, her pair of running feet with which to plunge over edges. She has taken that great and magnificent step, and so we all must take our own, whatever they may be.



We can talk smart or just act a fool
...It doesn't matter to me
Because I know that I'll be with you

The Latest in Resolutions

I know what you're thinking:
"Abby, where's your yearly evaluation of last year's resolutions, complete with your new list that we all treasure and look forward to so much? We've been on pins and needles. We've sent out an FBI search party to ensure you're still of sound body and mind." 

Well, loyal friends, I'm sorry. But life is crunchy and startling, and I'm overly ambitious and busy and need to be humbled a lot. I've decided my New Year's resolutions are going to look different this year. Instead of a straight list of 10 goals that covers a wide range of categories (or the 16-or-20-item monstrosity I tried to attempt last January), which I methodically select based on what in life I think is most important, I'm going to go simple and just list a few things I want to be better at. Not crazy bucket list items, not even simple daily habits. Because I could go abroad and lose 5 pounds and write a novel in 2016, but if I haven't bettered myself and the lives of others and the kingdom of God in the process, what's the point? So there.

Oh, and about last year's resolutions? I'm not even going to post them. It's not that I failed miserably or anything, but let's just say I was pretty ambitious last January. Had I fulfilled every single one of them, I'm pretty sure it would have transformed me into some immortal perfect being, and turns out I'm a person instead. So let's say we just work on personhood, hm?

1. Ask more questions than I do talk about myself.

2. Challenge the people I care about in healthy ways.

3. Be so uncompromising on the things I believe in that a few people hate me.

4. Let things go that I can't control. Who cares who cares who cares.

5. Pursue learning for its own sake.

That's it. And I'm not sorry that it's the middle of January. You need to feel out the year a little before you decide what you want it to be filled with. You can't plan your 2016 during 2015- don't be absurd.

Wait and see.

Forward

It is a big thing
to look failure in the eyes.
To not shove it away,
not cling to its arm,
just look it up and down
and say to it,
"I have to go now."

It is a hard thing
to raise your chin
and look the world
in the eyes again.
To keep taking the stairs
two at a time,
walk without clenching
your fists,
and to watch the world
come at you and say,
"Bring it.
I'm ready."

Because you have to,
you have to,
you have to,

even if you're not ready
at all.

You're Never Done, and That's Okay

Here I am, back in my fluffy, blue/white/gray comforter, the year of college and pretend adulthood melting away to reveal that I am still, in fact, a child. I'm thinking about the possible summer jobs I could end up with in the next week or two, and mentally ranking them from "Sure why not" to "never in a million years." I'm preparing to go downstairs and shop for used cars with my dad. I'm imagining my goals for the 3 years of college I have left, and even the weird, foggy possibilities of what might happen after that, and trying unsuccessfully to connect myself with the term "career." And I was listening to Amy Poehler's book on Audible, as my cat snored at my feet in a fluffy ball, and she helped me realize something I should have figured out years ago:

The thing you do is not the thing you are.

You can spend a lifetime (or in my case, a couple school years) struggling, slaving, and reaching for the thing you think you want (two years ago, it was a transcript good enough to merit any school I wanted, including Ivy League, and simultaneous stardom on a high school level; now, it's probably stardom on a collegiate level, including but not limited to: being on the improv troupe and therefore included in the coolest friend group of all time, lead roles in all the shows, the perfectly effortless style, and mild celebrity because of my glowing personality), and two things will happen. 1) you will never actually get there, or have a mountaintop "I made it!" moment, and 2) even if you do, it won't be enough.

And Amy was right. I thought about graduation, and finishing AP tests, and all the times people asked me if I felt accomplished or proud or satisfied that I had "finished." But I didn't, because I think I always knew I was never really finished. You are never actually done. The "end product" will never satisfy you, because it's not the end.

But here is the thing I was missing. You don't have to care about the results of what you do, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't care about the doing of it. There is a difference between valuing how good you are at something and valuing how good the rest of the world thinks you are at it. It's the border between apathy and ambivalence, between careless and carefree. 
This is what I missed for so long. All my efforts meant nothing to me if the Great and Powerful College Board didn't look at me and say "Wow! What an amazing student and person! You are truly one of a kind. Any school would be lucky to have you." But I couldn't stop caring altogether, because then I would be a bad student. I was trapped in a horrible system that I'd constructed myself.

I want college to be different. This week during my end-of-year interview with the theater department, one of the professors told me to "embrace instability." To ignore my ingrained instincts and ability to do a Very Good Job and do what I think is expected of me, and instead not be afraid to ruffle a few feathers if it means finding something new and inspiring about myself.

I say that like I'm going to do it. I might not. But I'm going to try.

Thanks Amy. (Is it okay if I call you that?)

To the Graduating Class,

The latter half of senior year of high school had such a profound effect on me that it would be an injustice not to share some of it, if only to help others climb out of the black holes into which I plummeted. Seniors, I can say with confidence that I know what you're going through. Here are a few things I would be remiss if I didn't impart to you:

- Firstly, people never stop saying how "fun and exciting" senior year is. I never got why, and it's okay if you don't either. Senior year was a dark, trying time, and well-meaning adults can handle it if you're honest with them. It's okay if you hate it. You're not the only one.

- The tumultuous burden of applications is finally over, but the final decision-making period will take almost as much of a toll. Don't let it define you. I spent so much time worrying over whether not I would pick the "right" school, the "right" classes, etc. But the truth is: any school is the right one if you feel at home there. In the end, it comes down to relationships. You can switch majors or meal plans, but you can't change the people you're surrounded with. Focus on choosing a community rather than a set of buildings.

- Your grades right now do not matter as much as you think they do. I know that is blasphemous and hypocritical (especially coming from someone who cared a LOT about that), but it's true. Something that will become very clear in college is that at the end of the day they're just numbers. Your best may not be the Ivy League's standard of "best" and that is okay. You do not have to prove yourself to anyone. If you're deciding between studying for an exam and having one last sleepover with all of your best pals, give yourself a night off and cherish the people that will soon be scattered.

- Please, please, please appreciate the value of living at home while you still can. So-called "freedom" is not all it's cracked up to be, and there will be so many days you will miss the convenience and familiarity that comes with home and family. Savor the luxury of high-quality bathrooms. Thank your washing machine for not being old and clogged with a hundred people's hair. Don't protest that you're "practically" an adult when your parents continue to enforce curfew. Tell them you love them and then help with the dishes. I'm dead serious. That version of "normal" will end, and you will miss it.

- It's okay if you're not going to miss most of the people you go to school with. It's okay to let go of high school. Even if you're all going to the same state school together, get excited for the brand new crop of friends you're going to make. Don't be afraid to select the "random" option for a roommate. The unknown can be surprisingly beautiful when it comes to making friends; chances are those same five people you're used to hanging out with will disperse, and that's okay. Keep in touch with the important people, but stay open to the prospect of new ones.

- Right now you're probably really good at a lot of things that won't matter in a few months. And that's fine, and you should enjoy this time when your ability to procrastinate and flirt and other high school things are all that you need to do. But soon no one will care that you were class president or prom queen or have a hot tub or an A in Bio. You'll be the one who's inexperienced and naive, and you'll need to be ready to humble yourself and learn. It's a tough transition, so don't let it shock you.

- At the same time, don't let anyone make you think you have to know what you're doing with your life right now. When people ask you where you "want to go" with your major, you can say "I don't know yet." They will live with that answer. You're not supposed to have it all figured out. In fact, that's part of the beauty of this time. Eventually, you WILL need to figure things out, but that's not for a while. College is not the end, it is merely a stepping stone. You can focus on this one step and not the next 5.

In general, just don't wind yourself too tight and let life happen to you. You've come so far, and there's so much ahead of you, and the best thing you can do for yourself is relax into it.

Oh, and throw confetti and scream and take a BILLION pictures at graduation. Let it be the happiest, cheesiest celebratory day ever. You've earned it.

Subconscious Tornados

I have a hard time believing people have just one "fatal flaw." We're all sinners who commit multiple sins. It could be said that I have infinite fatal flaws that are all deal breakers in one deal or another.

But one of the more significant ones is my tendency to overthink everything.
You can blurt out that it's because I'm a woman, but the truth is that it comes from my idealistic, imaginative side (from my mother) and my logical, analytical side (from my father) colliding in an infinite tornado inside my mind that roars around, knocking over things, and overcomplicates any and every situation it can.

So when the opportunity to take a leap of faith comes along, you can imagine the mental atom bomb that ensues.

Of course, the first thing I love to do is picture all possible outcomes, and my wonderfully unhelpful brain points out dangerous possibilities in each scenario. But lately I've been learning more and more to give God control of every part of me, even my mind. So I have to let him take care of the things  that haven't happened yet.
I have to accept that me making the "wrong" decision isn't going to stump him. ("What? Why did you do that? Boy, that sure screws up my whole plan for your life. Now what?") No matter what I do, He's in control.

Even if I make a wrong decision, He's in control.

Even if I do nothing, He's in control.

There's freedom in not having everything up to you.
There's faith, too.

Life's scary, that ruthless wizard.

New Year, New List

I've started looking forward to doing these resolutions every year. Even if I don't accomplish every last one, the idea that I'm putting a few key goals in my mind for the next year gives me a sense of purpose. So, 2014. Let's see how you stacked up.

2014 Resolutions

Graduate with a GPA of 4.15

The final GPA was 4.21(4.19 unweighted). Woohoo! High enough to surpass my goal, not quite high enough to make Summa Cum Laude. But you know what, that's okay. It says I tried my best, but I didn't let academics define me, which is what I wanted. 

Get a date to senior prom

I sure did. I even outdid myself and went to two proms, and they remain happily frozen in my memory as the magical evenings (and mornings) that they truly were. 

Find a modest bathing suit

I found two! And while they don't fit like they were made for my body, they make me proud for trying. Modesty will never stop being a good challenge. 

Journal more during Bible-reading

I think so. I usually jot down daily thoughts or verses, but I could certainly commit to it more. But more on that later.

Get elbow-length hair

Guys. I got SO close! I've been really into long hair this year. The progress was impressive.

I recently got it trimmed and put in some layers, so it has a bit of catching up to do, but I expect to reach mermaid status for sure by 2016. 

Be happy with the college I choose

This one is a resounding yes. Everything that's happened since coming to Gordon has confirmed over and over that this is where I'm supposed to be. I connect with the people, the professors are so wise and kind, the campus is beautiful, and I'm growing so much. Never thought I'd say this(and the fact that I can say it says a lot), but I doubt even Stanford could have been as perfect. 

Go on more adventures

Overall, definitely. College does that. But I think I also became a little more fearless this year, which has shown itself in many areas and which I'm pretty glad about. 

Keep in touch with the important people

Not as much as I would have liked, but I did my best. I realized over the last semester how few people in my life were truly important. Besides my family, I really only have a chosen few that I value enough to make the effort for. But those are the best people. 

Continue to not swear 

Oops. Never thought I'd fail on this one. It freaked me out when I heard people swearing casually at a Christian college, and after the shock faded I found myself slipping up with alarming frequency. It's fizzling out somewhat, and taught me something about the weight you can choose to give words. I'm still figuring out the weight of mine. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Well. That was a journey. It's weird how fast a year goes by, but when it's over and I look back, SO much happened. Anyways.

Normally, I do a simple list of ten resolutions every year that vaguely spans over the main aspects of my life, but this year I'm doing something different. The past six months have really been about spiritual growth for me, and more and more I find that the thing I want most is just to love the Lord with everything I have. So this year my resolutions are based on the greatest commandment: Love the Lord with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength.  Which for me means:

Heart: Relational goals

Mind: Mental goals

Soul: Spiritual goals

Strength: Health goals

So:

2015 Resolutions

Heart:

Keep in regular contact with important friends

Call family often (once every week or two, ideally)

Initiate one-on-one hangouts with those I care about

Mind:

Read some new books that aren't for school

Ace a difficult class that isn't for theater

Learn a new skill (musical, domestic, technological, or otherwise.)

Soul:

Keep up daily devotionals

Start giving financially on a regular basis

Pray with others (whether they're friends or not)

Don't compromise on purity (in speech, dress, or conduct)

Strength:

Go to the gym or do solo workouts more often

Eat healthier (i.e. more fruits and veggies)

Take some hiking/biking/boating outdoor trips

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Phew. That looks more extensive when they're all written out like that. But I'm confident. As long as my greatest aim is to love God, I've accomplished all I need to. 

Weekend Hypocrisy

In the most joyous moment of college thus far, I got a lead in my first college show and cried in my dorm as the awesomeness just rolled over me. I feel like it's important that that's been acknowledged.

Other than that...

I have a roommate who likes Netflix marathons at 9:30pm. I have a cool girl named Elise that likes sleepovers when one of our roommates is gone and having weird crushes on people and will eat with me even if she has to say hi to six people before she makes it to my table. I have a squad of 4 guys who eat enough for 3 people at every meal and mainly sit around their room listening to rap music, but sometimes they let me sit in there with them. I have a group text full of my La Vida girls that will sometimes cause my phone to light up when one of them asks if I want to eat a meal with them. I have an adopted older brother that will get a late-night chocolate with me at least 3 times a week and talk about life. 

Those people are the ones that have kept me going. But on the weekends, when they're all either off-campus or hanging out with other people, I end up walking around campus aimlessly wishing I had more than 3 numbers in my phone, or going for a walk around the pond because "I really just wanted some alone time anyway."

The truth is, I'm lonely most of the time. And I'm tired of people telling me to find friends instead of actually being my friend. It forces me to follow impressive people around and wait for them to tell me I'm cool rather than just calling up someone and going to the mall at a moment's notice. 

Note to sophomore/junior self: Don't you dare be too cool to be friends with freshmen. Most of them don't have cars, and they desperately want someone to drag them off campus, and if you treat them like adults they won't act like kids. But having a superiority complex will only cement you inside your boring circle and make the people that deserve friendship feel like they're not worth the time. 

Because that's what keeps running through my head. I'm just not worth the time. 

This Morning's Daydreams

When I have a daughter, instead of dressing her during her little kid years, I'm going to ask her every day what she wants to wear. She wants to wear rain boots, a tutu, and overalls at the same time? Go for it. She wants to combine every orange item she owns? Awesome. Every morning will be its own fashion show.

I'll never tell her not to splash in mud puddles because she'll get her dress dirty. I'll help her learn anything she wants, whether it's embroidery or power tools or tap dancing or kung fu. I'll never tell her a chapter book is too far above her reading level.

When she's six and asking all the questions she's too young to understand the answers to yet, I'll give her the best, most magical answers I can come up with until she figures out the boring answers. Santa will answer all her letters, and always leave a present for the cat, but she'll know the real meaning of Christmas like she knows her own name. And speaking of her name, if she doesn't like it, she can make another one up until she does.

Storytime will be as important as dinnertime. Dinnertime will sometimes be ice cream, or brownies, or Captain Crunch. Rainy days will be play days, so she'll learn to never let the weather get her down. And when she's honest about her mistakes, she'll get a consequence... and a cookie. That way when she's seventeen and wrecks the car, the first person she'll call is me, and I'll be at the scene with a whole batch.

See you someday, little princess.

Stranger Travels

"So Abigail, where are you from?"

I am from the lesser-known
The habited colonies of the nooks and crannies
From the mermaid lagoon on the Rappahanock River
The coral crags on the East China Sea
And cluttered passports
filled to the brim with layovers
the unplanned 12 hours in Shanghai
and airport orange chicken

Home is not a main street
and the same 3 best friends

My roads are thumbtack trails
across paper maps
my neighborhoods are various
Terminal A's
or E's
or C's
and places that say more
than people ever could

I have no space
or time
for wall murals
or gardens
or scrapbooks in the traditional sense

To see the adventures
I merely trace the scar on my thumb
twist my sun-bleached hair between my fingers
pick the scraped skin from the soles of my feet
the places where my skin has ripped, torn
and sewn itself together again

I run my fingertips over the stitches
on my heart
opened too many times
from the ripping-out of
forgotten friends

But higher education doesn't believe in Band-Aids,
do they?
Just study groups
rectangular tables
and the occasional kind soul
over a cup of chai

Into The Light

A wise person once told me that the question is not who are you, but rather, who are you today? Over the past couple days, I've discovered that it's become something like- who am I this at this particular moment? Do I like them? More importantly, who else might?

For example, an hour ago my favorite song was Simple Song, yet as I walked back to Fulton a few minutes ago I couldn't think of any tune more lovely than Any Way. This morning, I was a girl without glasses with a perfectly placed side braid, but tonight I was an adorable, glasses-wearing free spirit who wore loose sweatshirts and untamed wavy locks.

But somewhere in between the worship jam sesh and tedious trek back up the hill, I discovered that maybe these miniature facets and personalities of Abigail Erdelatz are only hints at who she is truly becoming, and the final picture may include all or none of the rough drafts.

Because there are like-minded friends, and there are like-hearted friends. And the like-minded ones may love one of the rough drafts as if it's the final project, but it takes a like-hearted soul to see through the revision process to the masterpiece that is yet to be. These are the souls that will then help pull such a masterpiece into the light. The ones that lift the burden of the rough drafts. The ones I hope to find.

Have I found any such gems of human beings? It remains to be seen. But I have a slightly less foggy picture of what to look for, and that's something to rejoice over, isn't it?

Dis-Orientation Weekend

Well guys, I've arrived.

*looks around*

*twiddles thumbs*

....Yeah. 

College.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A couple things:

-My room is an oven.

-The air is brisk already.

-There are little to no opportunities to be alone.

-Icebreakers. Hate them. Forced friendship? No thanks.

-My triple room may yet become a double. More space!

-The paths are beautiful, though unexplored.

-I have this inexplicable urge to make pancakes.

-And play an instrument. All the time. 

I think that's all I can comprehend just yet.

Stay tuned. 

Dear God,

Is there a reason that my best Okinawa friend suddenly can't come for a week and my best Virginia friend had to move to Alabama and my best longtime friend has to have cooler, busier friends and my best neighborhood friend has to leave this Saturday and is there a reason that I have to be alone?

Because if there is, it better be a dang good one.

It's my last summer before college, homebro. This is it. I don't want to spend it cleaning out my closet and sitting in front of my computer watching sad reruns on YouTube and.... dorm shopping. That's not what this summer is supposed to be. It's supposed to be about adventure and trying those insane things you've always wanted to do and listening to great music with great people and making memories right up until the moment you leave.

Problem is, I don't have any great people. And all my music is rather outdated right now.

Is this my life? Please say no.

Doors, Literal and Otherwise

Right before I go to bed, I have this habit of cleaning my room. I don't break out dust rags and Febreeze or anything, but I usually put away any clothes laying around, arrange the various bottles of lotion and detangler into their designated corner of my dresser, and lastly, I make sure my closet door is closed. I can't sleep with the closet door open. It's just... a thing. (I know I'm not the only one.)

But the thing is, I always end up leaving the closet door open until the last possible second. Maybe I forgot to put away the last bit of laundry, or am picking out a shirt for the next day, or something. But shutting that door is always the last thing I end up doing.

I'm a "just in case" person. I like to keep doors open until the last possible second.

Thing is, I'm starting to feel that second approaching. As I plan my last bonfires and leave my last comments on the deserted pages of old friends I'm about to allow myself to let go of, it's like the nightly moment when I burrow under the gray/blue/white comforter and wonder if I've forgotten to do something important... because I know when I wake up, it'll be gone forever.

I keep feeling like I'm forgetting something. Which things should I let myself lose forever?

It's a tough one.

Not-So-Distant Horizons

I'm still not sure if the whole "done with grade school forever" thing actually hit me, but I did feel this awesome adrenaline rush when I walked across the stage and looked out at all the people at graduation. And when they officially pronounced us graduates, I felt this huge, wild joy rising up inside me and I felt like screaming and throwing confetti and hugging everyone... so I did. It was amazing. It was over in a flash.

And you know something hilarious? Up until then, I felt so unprepared and terrified for the idea of leaving home for good and being in charge of my very own self. Choosing classes, managing free time, shopping for my own groceries... it all seemed so foreign and scary.

But yesterday morning, I woke up and went online to Gordon College's website. I completed the Pre-Orientation online class and was not overwhelmed by the boatload of information it provided. I picked my first semester classes and felt... excited.

Today, I'm going to put on my new Fighting Scots t-shirt from my school (so fun to say that), scan all the papers that include the packing lists for the La Vida trip (I leave in barely more than a week! 12 days, no showers, here I come), and write down the exact number of athletic shirts and track shorts I have to shop for. I will be excited and not intimidated about the fact that I'm going to Dick's Sporting Goods and REI to look for clothes and appropriate shoes for running 8 miles. (Okay, still terrified about the whole 8 miles part, but whatever.)

I don't know what it was, but guys. I'm ready.

Maybe graduation really did it. Maybe at that moment, I was simultaneously filled with happiness for all my high school friends and teachers and rapturous excitement for all the incredible possibilities ahead. Isn't that how it's supposed to be?

Eeeeeee!!!!!
Here we go.


You sure must be strong,
when you feel like an ocean made warmed by the sun...

Dear Freshman Abby,

Don't worry. You make it out alive.

Some things that will stay the same:

You will never stop desiring mermaid-like hair. (You crack and chop it off in the winter of 2010, but it grows back. Very, very slowly.)

You continue to attach cosmic significance to the moment in which any boy looks at you. However: Try and chill out a bit and maybe forget about the Boy Who Plays the Drums, Boy from Freshman P.E, Boy You’d Love To Hate, Boy in the Checkered Shirt, and Boy with Blue Eyes. None of them ever work out. (In fact, they’re actually solid people to have as friends. Try that sometime.)

Your makeup routine consists of: a swiping of powder, a puff of blush, and chapstick. (You give up on eyeliner rather quickly.)

The 49'ers t-shirt never stops being the most reliable article of clothing ever.

Pepper is a greater cuddle buddy than any boy. 

Grades are always important to you, whether you enjoy the class or not. 

Tree-climbing and thunderstorms are your versions of heaven. 

Some things that will shift dramatically: 

The number of people you call your "best friends." 

Your bangs. 

The extent to which certain movies (and moments) can make you cry.

Your taste in music. (Oh, how quickly you realize that there is more than Owl City and PureNRG! Soon you'll discover the joy that is Keane and Sleeping At Last and Jukebox the Ghost. Get excited.)

The number of leather-bound journals in the pink shoebox. 

Your level of competitiveness in team-oriented games. 

Your sunglasses collection grows beautifully! (Surprisingly, the Thailand/Cambodia border is a great place to look.)

Your comedic timing greatly improves. I think.

Some things you'll learn: 

Your fascination with using a camera lens to make the world look more like itself is just beginning. Soon, you’ll be discovering all the wonderful things a DSLR can do, moving to a house with a spectacular backyard view of the entire eastern Okinawa shoreline, and visiting places like Tokyo and New York city- places where photo-worthy moments will surround and overwhelm you.

Clothes should highlight you, not your body. And it's okay to surreptitiously copy those gorgeous hipsters. One day your style will be a blend of everyone you admire and somehow, it will be completely unique and yours. 

It's okay to be sad, even for a full year, but a genuine laugh or two during that time does not make you a traitor.

Diving with whale sharks is majestic, but throwing up over the side of the boat isn't. 

Wit is invaluable. 

Letting yourself sleep instead of crying at midnight over unfinished homework will not negatively impact the greater scale of your life.

Adventures come in all forms. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Enjoy the ride, kid. It flies by. 

Modest Is Almost Hottest, Maybe

As various seasons come rolling around, I always find myself remembering little things about how to properly navigate life during those seasons that I'd forgotten. For instance, with summer comes issues dealing with, among other things: finding a good waking-up time, awkward tanline navigation, social scheduling frustration, and by no means the least... bathing suit morality issues.

Being a girl who actually cares about modesty (physical or otherwise) has so many layers of difficulty. The phrase "modest is hottest" is much easier said than done. I firmly believe that just because it may be more "ladylike" to wear a short-sleeved shirt than a cropped spaghetti-strap tank, if it makes you feel less beautiful, it's not necessarily better. Not to say a girl should wear skimpy clothes and suits just because she "feels hotter," but what are you proving by wearing a bathing suit made for a 40-year-old?

My philosophy when it comes to bathing suits is: people should be looking at me, but not at my body. So even though I want to feel decently covered (and not stressed about flashing people when I do a dive), I want to feel like I could still walk past a group of people in slow motion because of how awesome I look.

So here's where the whole conundrum part comes in: I'm confident enough in my physical beauty to feel like I look good in a one-piece and a tiny bikini. Problem is, I own both. So standing in front of my mirror this morning, trying to decide which one to wear to the senior picnic, was the hardest thing ever.

*tries on bikini*
Wow, I look like a skank.
But gosh, my bod is rockin'. 
This will probably be the last chance to see some people worth impressing. 
No, no. Stop. You don't want that kind of attention. 
Wow, I look hot. 
You're not wearing this.
My tan isn't even enough, or else I might. 
We both know you're not going to.

*tries on one-piece*
This is cute. I kind of look like Audrey Hepburn.
It's so much less hot. 
Ugh, pleats, stop making my stomach do that.
Okay, this is fine. You still look good.
No, you don't. 
Yes, you do.
We both know you're wearing this one.

I wore the one-piece. And it looked good, I guess. But I kept seeing girls walk by in really cute-but-skimpy things- even girls that I knew were relatively modest- and wishing I'd worn the other suit. Wishing I could walk by the swim team and have them all stare at me. Because even as I sit here, hours later, realizing that in my heart of hearts I do not want guys eyeing me like a piece of meat, it's impossible to deny that attention feels good. [Confession: as a compromise, I wore shorts that made my legs look really good, and honestly, it made me feel better about myself.]

But you know what? At the end of the afternoon, I still had a great time. I did two spectacular dives off the diving board which I would have not been able to do wearing anything else, or I would have been showing way more than my dive form. I played ultimate frisbee and ate Cheetos and laughed with my friends and that's what people will remember. Me. Not my body.

It's hard. Ladies, don't let anyone tell you it isn't. But it's worth it.

I'm getting there. Right now, modest is... relatively attractive, but someday it will be hottest.