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.

Chapter Two

It's been a while. Too long. So much has happened in such a short time since being back at Gordon, and I don't even know where to begin. Adventures! Friendships! Theater classes! Improv! Sophomore year hit the ground running.

Let's talk about the woods.

I've been spending a lot more time out here lately, thanks to my slightly lighter class schedule and awesome weather. There are so many more trails behind campus than I realized! Often, I'll go out in the morning only intending to find quiet nook to read in for an hour, only to stumble out mid-afternoon with pine needles and flowers in my hair, exhausted and happy, having discovered 3 new favorite spots. I'll explore, read, listen to music, and sometimes picnic. Occasionally I'll venture out with one or two adventure companions, but mostly I just explore on my own. It's awesome. 

Speaking of friends, I gained a whole new group when I made it onto Gordon's improv troupe, the Sweaty-Toothed Madmen! Seriously, these 8 people are the coolest; it's a privilege to be counted as one of them. Aside from the fact that they all have awe-inspiring talent and our rehearsals consist of dancing around onstage and pretending to be chicken farmers or dentists or royalty, they've all become like family to me immediately. We go on McDonald's runs at 1am and have photoshoots and a group text and movie nights. It's no big deal. 

Other than that, life is a lot of things. It's rehearsing in practice rooms for Musical Theater and sprinkling cinnamon on customer's drinks at Chester's. It's Monday night hot chocolates with Austin and Friday afternoon tea-and-reading-time on the beach with Josh and Merisa. It's making Cate and I's third-floor room in Wilson (affectionately dubbed The Birdhouse) look as adorable as humanly possible with coordinating comforters and fluffy pillows and yes, a tiny birdhouse that we are going to paint and hang on the door. It's letters from Madison at New Tribes and phone calls from Mom after class and new friends and old friends. It's the great exhilaration of starting new things and comfortable warmth from picking up old ones. 

In conclusion, sophomore year is the best and I can't wait for it to be cold. 

Oh, and here's the most recent awesome song I've found:

I love this feeling,

but I hate this part...

Rejuvenation

My roommate and her mom brought me up to their sprawling, 100-year old beach house in Cape Cod for a few days, and it's so much better than an uninteresting, ordinary college homecoming weekend could ever be.

Had a nice hangout with Jesus this morning. 

 It was so much more soul-refreshing in person, but look! Just look. 

The library is a good one.

This pastry shop has the richest hot chocolate I've ever experienced.

She convinced me it was a good idea to jump off the pier into the freezing ocean, and she was right. 

----------------------------

Now I'm cuddled up in the cutest pink blanket of all time, with a belly full of spaghetti and some very melty chocolate chip cookies. We watched The Holiday, which was much more heartwarming than I expected, and now I have the urge to befriend complete strangers when I get back to Gordon. 

You know what, maybe I will. 

If you ever get the chance to spend 3 days in a remote location where you know no one and have nothing to think about, always take that chance. It's so, so good. 

Top 6 Favorite Movies

Because I'm weird and I couldn't just pick 5.

1. The Parent Trap(1999)

No, I haven't seen the original. Does it bother me? Not really. I can quote every line, know which scene it is from a single note of the score, point out filming mistakes, and every time I go to anything close to a summer camp, I dress like Hallie in the first scene.

2. Flipped

If you haven't seen it, what are you doing with your life. It's the sweetest depiction of young teenagers in the 50's you've ever seen. Also, great soundtrack and score. There's a part about a sycamore tree that had me weeping because I also love to climb trees. The back and forth narration is perfect. Just see it.

3. Warm Bodies

I thought it would be lame when I went to the movie theater with Matt and Rachel on that fateful spring evening, but oh how wrong we were. The witty humor. The adorably awkward protagonist. The sweet and unique love story. The thought-provoking one-liners that hold monumental truths. The stunning film score (oops, listening to it right now). The incredible soundtrack (Bruce Springsteen! Delta Spirit! Bon Iver!). I watched it so many times that summer that now it signifies that period of my life.

Epic sidenote: I have her jacket. 

4. Rocky series/Jason Bourne series

I grew up on the Rocky movies and Jason Bourne. They always reminds me of my dad. He relishes practically every Rocky scene, and references Bourne if we ever need to do something efficiently and in a hurry. (The best opportunities are always in airports or subways.) When the Rocky movies come on, he just walks around the kitchen smiling and repeating all the great lines. We quote the "Yo Adrian!" line whenever one of us overcomes any sort of challenge. (Example: when I finished applying for college he made me a card with that as the opening line.) Rocky II is definitely my favorite of those, but who can pick the best Bourne movie? (The fourth one doesn't count, by the way.)

5. Stranger Than Fiction

It's my favorite role of Will Ferrell's, and that includes Buddy the Elf. He plays a character that's so unique, and the story is told in such a witty, funny, charming, intelligent way. Dustin Hoffman and Emma Thompson are sublime. Plus the fact that the soundtrack is basically just a the instrumental versions of a bunch of fantastic Spoon songs, yet somehow they fit perfectly. It has this great storytelling vibe that I just can't get over. I love the twists and turns, and how I can't put my finger on if it's a comedy or drama. I think it's both. And the ending is satisfying and tidy without being too cliche. It's so underrated.

I've decided instead of a picture you just need to see the opening scene.

6. The Fugitive

I can't really think of another one that I get as excited over when I see it on TV. I'm a sucker for good murder mysteries, and this one is so well done. Plus the fact that Harrison Ford and Tommy Lee Jones play so well together. My dad loves to quote this one a lot, too. All activity halts if this comes on TV.

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

And since I'm feeling generous: my Top 6 Film Scores.

1. Parent Trap




(What's playing in my head when I'm dashing anywhere in a hurry)

2. Warm Bodies



3. Saving Mr. Banks



4. The Lovely Bones



5. Flipped



(I think you have to have it on iTunes to hear it, sorry)

6. Finding Nemo

Bald Eagles and Bugs

If anyone's wondering why I haven't posted in two weeks or so (or maybe no one reads this and actually I'm being silly...or whatever), it's because I've just spent the last 12 days fighting mosquitos and sore muscles in the Adirondack mountains with some of the most awesome girls I've yet to meet in an outdoor education program with my college called La Vida.

The experiences and spiritual epiphanies are far too meaningful to sum up in a blog post (which I knew even before I embarked), so I decided to write down one thing every day that summed up the day's challenges. I put them in the form of packing tips, so if any of you lovely readers (imaginary or otherwise) decide to try a survival expedition of your own, you'll be well-prepared.

Day 1: Invest in a small camping pillow!
(My neck became rather sore after resting on hard ground or a rolled up piece of clothing at night)

Day 2: Headlamps are invaluable. 
(vs. flashlights, which are not hands-free)

Day 3: Quick-drying clothes ONLY.
(When it pours for the first 48 hours and even the sleeping bag inside your tent is damp, you want your t-shirts and cargo pants to be dry after only 30 minutes on a line)

Day 4: Sneakers should be narrow with excellent tread.
(If you're rock-climbing, whether or not your toe can fit into that minuscule crack makes all the difference.)

Day 5: Bring thick, high-SPF sunscreen AND a face stick. Oh, and a sturdy 32 oz. water bottle. 
(Apparently the tips of your ears can, in fact, get burned when you're in a canoe.)

Day 6: Your bug spray should coat you well and have the potency to kill anything within 5 feet of you.
(Spray it on any exposed skin. Wipe it on your face. Spray it on the brim of your hat. Spray it on your thermal underwear, which they will bite through. It won't keep them from biting you, but it'll repel them... for a while. Also: sleep with a bug net over your head if you have to. *shudder*)

Day 7: Bring layers that cover your arms without heating you up too much (aka bug protection), and ones that zip are easier than pullovers. Also, the bug spray thing again. 
(Bonus: Mosquitos can't bite through a raincoat!)

Day 8: You need 3 pairs of shoes: hiking boots, water shoes, and easy slip-on ones that will ALWAYS be dry.
(If you're too lazy to lace up the boots all the time, you can wear socks around a campsite, but they will get filthy and you can still step on twigs.)

Day 9: Shorts should have liners, and bandanas work better than bobby pins.
(When you only have room for 4 pairs of underwear, you need ways to cheat. And a bandana tied like a headband is actually kind of cute- and the only accessory you'll probably do.)

Day 10: There is no such thing as too many pairs of socks.
(If you walk around the forest in them or a surprise thunderstorm shows up right as you put those great blue ones on, you'll be glad.)

Day 11: Your sleeping bag better be warm AND waterproof.
(Apparently, a tarp stretched across some trees is not foolproof protection when it decides to pour for two solid hours right before bed. Also: rain in the mountains is not refreshing, but freezing.)

Day 12: Never underestimate how cold it can get in the morning. Bring gloves AND a hat, even in the summer. Sleep in them if you have to.
(You think just because it's July 4th it won't be 45 degrees? Haha. Think again.)

Jokes aside, it was an amazing trip, regardless of uncomfortable weather/bug/clothing conditions. How can you focus on something silly like the sweaty smell of your dri-fit shirt when you're looking at this?

Trials And Triumphs: Thick Hair

For the entirety of my preteen/teenage life, all I've gotten from other girls is:

"Oh my gosh, I'm so jealous of your hair. It's so thick. I wish my hair was thick like that."

And no matter how I protest, they insist it's what they want.

Are you sure?

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

Wispy. What a gorgeous word. Unfortunately, it's one that will never live in harmony with my hair. Luscious, maybe. Maybe even, someday, cascading. But never wispy. Never dancing in the wind. Never gently caressing my arms like flower petals. Never will my braids silkily fold and wrap around my shoulders. They thunk against my chest thickly, stiff and spilling out of my meticulously-tugged plaits. Never will my face be framed by a simple barrette, clipping back a dainty french-braided section of bangs. It takes, on a good day, two or three twisted chunks, pulled back and strategically stuck sharply with bobby pins at intervals. Never will I be able to wake up, wrap a curling iron through it a couple times, and show up to school with perfect shiny, bouncy curls. For a good half hour or more I hold small sections in until my arm aches, trying like everyone else to achieve the impossible.

But the promise of cascading still hangs, tantalizing, in the air. My hair has its moments, I guess. So I'll keep it around.

#MCM Forever



Not too many people know the real story behind the cat that rubs against their legs when they walk through my front door, or why the literal best part of my day is when I get to curl up on my bed with him.

Travel back with me, if you would. The year is 2003. Think what you were doing in March of that year. Probably in elementary school. I was around 6. I was doing my homework that night like a studious little child and my mother was taking out the trash. Outside there was a light drizzle. She was opening the back door, huge bags in tow, when I heard her yell with surprise. There was a black stray cat in our neighborhood, and it apparently had chosen our back stoop to spend the night. When my mom opened the door, she had leaped across her path and away into the night.

Turning her head to look at where the cat had jumped from, my mom gasped loudly. "Guys, there's kittens!"

In the damp leaves beside our back stoop, there were two brown and white kittens in the drizzle. We called our neighbors (who had some cat experience over), wrapped the kittens in blankets, and gave them some milk. I got to hold one. It fit perfectly in my tiny 6-year-old hands, mewing pitifully. We left them there, because our neighbors said the mother was probably moving the litter and it was best to let her come back for those two.

Morning came. One kitten was left. We built a little shelter for it and waited for the mother to come back. But a whole day and night passed. She never returned. We finally brought the kitten inside to care for it, where I dubbed him Peppermint, after a kitten in a storybook I had read. Weeks passed and my mom continued to wake up in the middle of the night to bottle-feed the 3-week old kitten, all the while emailing my dad while he was in Iraq to report on our new guest. After a month or two, my little brother and I dared to ask if we would get to keep him. After a small pause, my mom smiled. She thought we could.

And so through every move, to relatives' houses, overseas and back, vacations, Pepper (as his name was shortened to become) has been the original 5th Erdelatz. He has the strongest personality of any animal I've ever met and has put up with me and my brother shoving him onto beds, tossing him outside when it snows, crushing him under the weight of our hugs, and so much more.

A few weeks after we moved to Stafford (a little over a year ago), Pepper went outside one Saturday afternoon and didn't come back. My mom told me on Monday that she hadn't seen him for two days and I immediately started pacing the neighborhood calling his name. I cried every day he didn't come back until Thursday at 6:15 am, he appeared at the front door and walked right back in.

Ever since then, I've been terrified of losing him. I wish I could take him to college with me. But I'm so scared I'm going to come home one weekend and...he'll just not be there. He's over 10 years old. How much longer is he going to live? He's gotten lost. He's gotten in fights. He still gets himself into trouble all the time.

He's the best part of my day. When I collapse on my bed after a hard day, he always jumps up, crawls onto my stomach and just curls up into a warm, purring ball. There is nothing more soothing than a purring cat next to you. Nothing.



Perspective

I watched a documentary called "The Shadow of the Moon" about the Apollo 11 mission with my family, and to be honest, I teared up a couple times. I highly recommend it. It told the whole landing-a-man-on-the-moon story from the perspective of the astronauts, who are now in their eighties. So cool.

But it also reminded me how small Earth is. A couple of the astronauts had some really good quotes at the end about how seeing the earth from space made them more appreciative of how fortunate we are to live on it, and how suddenly, terrestrial problems don't seem as significant when you've had a (literally) cosmic view of them.

It reminded me of this picture. It's of Earth, taken from a satellite that was really far away.

Look at that one more time and tell me again how the thing you're worrying about is so important. 

That is all. 

Sunshine and Blue Eyes

It was a rather slow Saturday afternoon.

My hair was still wet from my shower, and I was passing time by watching my notifications on Facebook ping away after uploading over a hundred photos from Younglife camp.

Then I heard a knock at the door.

First thing you should know about me: About half my daydreams involve someone wonderful showing up on my doorstep out of nowhere.
So each time I hear someone at the door, I have to prepare myself for the inevitable downfall of it being not a long-lost friend or mysterious stranger, but just the neighbor or the UPS guy.

So I opened the door.
And there, wearing denim shorts and the hugest grin I'd ever seen, was.....Bailey.

Bailey.

The same Bailey that came with me to the airport on that fateful July 15th a year ago. The same Bailey that wrote me a two-page letter that had me sobbing on the plane somewhere over the Pacific Ocean. The same Bailey that was by my side for my first two years of high school, and one of the only people during those last 3 months to ever see me cry.

I remember gasping, vaguely. Then I just clung to her forever as she did her wonderful belly-laugh of pure joy.

Honestly, I was surprised I wasn't crying, but I think I was so unprepared that I only had room for one emotion: pure excitement.

For so long, I'd walked around my neighborhood, wishing I had an Okinawa friend by my side to take it all in with, so I wouldn't have to be alone. And here she was, walking the sidewalks to the park with me and sitting on my bed and eating pudding in my kitchen and suddenly 370 days felt like five minutes.

It was so surreal I just couldn't.

But thank you, thank you, thank you Bailey for surprising me. People like you are the best surprises in the world.

My face pretty much all afternoon

Cue Beethoven's 5th

The AP Lang test is tomorrow.

3 essays. 55 multiple choice.

3 hours.

ALL OF MY TRAINING HAS PREPARED ME FOR THIS MOMENT

Contemplating a more cowardly route. 

Okay that was bad. 

NO.

I must not yield to lack of sleep.

Or fear.

Or common sense.

Or sanity.

Or hand cramps.

Or vague writing prompts.

*cracks knuckles*

At Long Last

Yesterday, I woke up to something I hadn't seen since I was twelve.

You can kind of see in this one that the snow was still falling. It literally SPARKLED.

I don't think I stopped squealing until at least 11:30. 

And then...I got to go SLEDDING?! The day couldn't have gotten any better. Really.

I was just happy all day. 

And now we have no school TODAY as well... which means

1) no exams till next week

2) more sleeping

3) more snow

4) more sleeping

5) a 5-day weekend (!)

6) more happiness

... I'm just so happy. I don't think I've been this happy all week. 

Something I Could Use

This weekend was seriously the best. I know I've said this multiple times. But it was. And this picture kind of sums it all up.

In fact, this picture says a lot.

Go ahead and take a second look. 

And So It Begins

And so here I sit during this winter break, listening to as much new music as I can get my hands on and wondering what will become of my life.

I think I'll stalk people's Twitters and Tumblrs and Facebook pages in hopes that staring at them long enough will cause one of them to message me. 

(Speaking of Tumblr, this wouldn't make a bad Tumblr pic. Jussayin'.) 

#ActorProblems

Here I sit. Waiting to find out which play I've been cast in...that is, if I get cast in any.

Well...I'm pretty sure I will...ish. It's just a matter of if I get my top pick(s).

This is so stressful. I always sink into this unsure, depression state after I audition for plays where I get this feeling like I did something horribly wrong.

So naturally, I'm doing the healthy thing this time and releasing them here. Sorry.

So....miniature rant.

The comedic play I really, REALLY want to get cast in...is a fairly big cast. Two of my good friends also got called back for it. It's written by another friend of mine. But....my two friends were doing a scene together, and, well...they made a rather exciting choice for a scene, which sent us all into hysterics. No lie, it was funny. Really funny.

But it was the VERY scene I'd wanted to do. And I was convinced I could do something different, but just as awesome.

So Friend #1 sits down and says to Friend #2: "I'm SO hoping we get cast for that together, that would be awesome."

Friend #2 says to ME: "I am going to go all the way on (particular stage direction) for whoever I do that scene next with." (I WAS PLANNING ON DOING THAT ALREADY.)

And I'm over here, like:

Well, that never got to happen. They finished with the scenes for that play, and Friend #2 left.

MEANWHILE.

Friend #1 is talking to the writer of this play, and was all, "SO DID YOU LIKE ME AND FRIEND #2'S LITTLE THING WE DID THERE. WASN'T IT HILARIOUS?!" 

I was inwardly seething, thinking,

AND I REALLY HOPE I DON'T HAVE TO KILL SOMEONE LATER IF THESE CASTINGS WORK OUT WEIRDLY.

So...all this is to say that Friend #1 was REALLY good in the other, dramatic play. I think that that play needs Friend #1. 

But the comedy? 

They'll be fine. 

(Author's note-later: I got cast in my second choice play. Friend #1 and Friend #2 are in a play together-of course-but it's not this play to which I was referring in this play. I also talked to Friend #1 about my annoyance and it's (mostly) all good now. But let that happyish ending not distract from the greatness and sheer wit of this post.)

Because I'm Into Photography and Love My Cat

I was so proud of myself when I got this shot. It involved holding something up beside the lens for him to look at.
I was also standing on the bed.
Just LOOK AT IT.

That Dangerous Kind of Happy

Both of the above things depict (almost accurately) my extreme joy that I am experiencing currently.

Yes, for no apparent reason.

Just wondering, am I the only one this happens to?

The sun is shining. At this moment, I have nothing drastic hanging over my head. I am belting, at the top of my lungs, every loud, happy song I can find on my Spotify playlists. 

And for some reason, the world isn't big enough to hold my happiness. 

I literally don't know why these feelings happen. Or how to recognize the symptoms before it's too late. I probably should apologize for anyone I've messaged on Facebook during these moments, because they all wonder what on earth is wrong with me. 

But you know what? I don't even care right now. I just want to go belt some epic song from the top of a mountain or something. 

I'M. SO. WEIRD. 

Harumph

So I found all this great music over the weekend.

Good, right? Awesome.

(Never mind the fact that I forgot my ipod this morning, a fact that had steam coming out of my ears for literally the next 3 hours.)

But still. I'm excited. About my different, hipster, slightly indie, alternative music. That I and I alone discovered.

As I should be.

And then someone goes and announces their own finding of one of my new songs, even BEFORE I DID. And worse yet, describes how much they love it in horrible teen slang.

YES. 

I hope it's obvious that I would not care at all about this minute detail if I didn't find it so hard not to hate this particular person's guts at the moment. 

GRRRRRRRRRR.

Scent

This...it's so close to exactly. 

Everything's Okay For a Minute

Somehow the silence seemed to connect us

in a way that words never coud...