Freeze Frame

Like many other college kids I am home for the holidays. However on the DePaul quarter schedule that means I am on break for 6 long weeks...really home for the holidays. It is nice to be back with my family and to return to a city that I know so well but I cant help but feel like I have put my life on pause. Everyday I spend in Chicago I feel like I am moving somewhere. Moving forward, changing, learning something new. But my life back here is a life that I have lived before. So I am officially on hiatus from my newly developed grown-up life and returned to the comforts of home cooked meals and a mom alarm clock that never wakes me up before ten and always rings with coffee in hand. I hope this doesn't mean I have to go back to high school though because calculus was hard enough the first time!

Wishful Thinking

So I recently celebrated and celebrated and then celebrated some more my latest birthday. This birthday is a particularly peculiar one for many reasons. I turned 20 last Tuesday. Officially kick starting me into another decade of life. Although I am very excited to be older and wiser (in some respects) I am, in two words, scared shitless about what happens next. They say that between the years of 20 and 30 you will experience the most exciting, life changing events of your lifetime. You will graduate from college, get a job, travel the world, fall in love, get married, have kids, create world peace. However, no one tells you that those life changing "20 something" occasions do not come with a lifetime guarantee. In fact I could very easily go through the next ten years of my life and experience nothing out of the ordinary. That is why this year when I blew out my candles and made my birthday wish I did not hope for childish things like roller skates or a pony (I thought about wishing for a pony on roller skates for a second and then snapped out of it) rather I wished that I could have ten more years, just like the last ones, filled with friends and family and love.

FACEinHOLE

Create your own FACEinHOLE

Playing it Cool

It's true that everybody can be kind of dork sometimes. We all have tendencies to like certain things that are not necessarily "hip," and it's okay because it usually makes us more interesting than the masses. For me, my dork side comes out to play from 3:10-4:40 every Tuesday and Thursday during my New Religious Movements class. A religious studies class that is centered around the study of new age "cult" religions. We have studied religions as well known as The Nation of Islam, as taboo as the Church of Scientology and as completely boonkers as the Unarius Academy of Science ( A UFO religion whose founder is believed to be the Angel Gabriel sent from Heaven to tell the world of the coming of the aliens) It's absolutely fascinating. However I usually have to hide my excited panting from my friend Sheila who I have the class with. Sheila does not share my passion for crazy cultish religions. Rather she thinks the class is weird and boring and pointless. She spends most of her time in class planning parties for the weekend or sending S.O.S. texts messages to her friends. I simply tolerate her complaints as we ride the train together back home, not really listening, but rather anxiously awaiting the new and exciting things I have yet to learn.

Just a little bit of history repeating...

On August 28th, 1963, Martin Luther King Jr. gave a speech that will remain in the hearts of every American for generations to come. He had a dream that our nation would one day no longer be divided. That it could one day be a nation of equality, freedom and justice for all people. My grandfather, Bruce "Smiles*" Moodie, was a strong, compassionate, kind-hearted white man, a man who never believed in racial inequality, a man who I unfortunately never had the opportunity to meet, attended that rally on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial one warm August day. He was a military man and spent a great deal of time in Washington. However his home was with his wife and son, my grandmother and father. Bruce was so moved by King's speech that he wanted to share that historical moment with his wife Bette. He called her on a classic 1960's briefcase satellite phone and reported every detail to her, word for word, of what was truly a monumental day. She was so grateful to share that moment with him. It is a day in her life that she will never forget.
Last night I had the privilege of attending the rally in Grant Park for President elect Barack Obama. This election marks the first time, in history, that an African American has been elected president, as well as the first time I had the opportunity to vote (I cried in the polling booth while I was filling out my ballot) While waiting in line to get into the park I called my grandmother, an avid Obama supporter, not knowing that she experienced the situation above nearly 50 years ago. My grandmother expressed her undeniable support and admiration for this event, welling up with tears of joy that her granddaughter could experience such a thing.

My grandmother is a simple woman who has lived a simple life. But to have experienced two unforgettable moments such as these, alongside two people she truly loves, she is unlike any other.

**My grandfather was given the name Smiles on his birth certificate as a twisted, mean joke from my great-grandfather. He later had it legally changed to Bruce. What a wonderful family I belong to.

Making Mama Proud

For the most part, parents take pride in everything that their child does. They award good behavior and applaud high marks in school. Throughout my life I have done my share of pride-evoking things. (Not to say I don't disappoint...I can fail with the best of them. But that's another story.) However I never thought that my portrayal of Mike Myer's infamous SNL character, Wayne Cambell could bring such proud smiles to my parent's faces. After sending them the picture above of me and my roommate at a 2-week early Halloween celebration, my parent's couldn't wait to tell me how happy they were to see my portrayal of a favorite 90's icon. I'm guessing my original costume idea, a cracked-out Amy Winehouse, would have provoked a much different response.

God Bless America

Whether you are noticing the changing colors of the leaves or shivering from the crisp new breeze in the air there is no avoiding the season that is upon us. Voting season. Yes it is time to take part in the time honored democratic tradition that makes this country so great. I am especially excited for this November 4th because it is my first legal voting experience ( I used to stuff the ballots in school elections...don't tell) It wasn't until I received my voting instructions in the mail that I became concerned. Voting seems too easy. Go to polling station. Cast vote. Change future. There has to be a catch. Some loops to jump through, tests to pass. There is no way that you can just show up at some public library and vote. Looks like this girl is going to have to check it out for herself. See you at the polls...don't forget your #2 pencils and bungee cord...just in case!

For lack of more blog-worthy experiences...

The other day I met a real life Doogie Howser. Well not in the sense that he was a freakishly smart young boy acting as a medical doctor on TV, but rather that he IS Neil Patrick Harris's doopleganger. The resemblance was overwhelming. Almost as overwhelming as finding out that Doogie in fact digs the fellas...who knew? Well, apparently...everybody under the sun! He even did a Clay Akin-esque People magazine cover declaring his sexual preference a few years ago. The only difference with Harris's cover was that some people were actually surprised to see it. But all strangeness aside this encounter got me thinking about my own doppleganger. That girl out there who looks just like me. It is believed that everybody has one it is merely the matter of finding them. So my search begins....wish me luck! And I guess wish her luck too because if she finds me first that would make this whole search thing a lot easier. I'm just saying.

Yeah, I'm that delusional.

My good friend T, better known in the blogesphere as Sandwich Lady, lives in a world not unlike your own. The only crucial difference between the Lady's world and that of flesh and blood is the square shaped screen separating their realities. Yes T's world has gone from the very real to the very fictional. She has adapted to referring to sitcom character's as friends and prime time hunks as lovers. Now at first I was worried by her lapse from reality but now after spending several rainy (or not so rainy) afternoons in front of these lovable faces I have grown to know the appeal of the fictional friend. Be it their ability to make you laugh or their heartwarming tales that bring tears to your eyes, the fictional world is hardly ever disappointing. A trait that is particularly appealing to me. In the real world you are constantly at risk of getting hurt. People you care about can let you down, friendships grow apart, love goes unrequited. But in the wonderful world of fiction your only worry comes from the potential lack of munchies.

Warning: Too Lazy For Friends!

Friendships are hard. Not necessarily the specific joys and struggles that they bring into your life but rather the act of being a friend is very difficult. The phone calls you have to make to "check-in" with one another, the attention that you have to give when the other person is talking, the advice that you have to share to remedy his or her problems. All of these things are both time consuming and exhausting. That is why I rarely do them. Does that make me a "bad" friend? Possibly or maybe it is that I am just ,point-blank, too lazy for friends. Don't get me wrong, I do care very passionately about the friends I have in my life it is just that sometimes I don't have anything to say. So to my friends I tell you this, I care about you dearly and I will call you, it is just that The Office just started back up so I'm going to be pretty tied down...Thanks for tolerating my laziness...maybe someday you will find it quirky rather than rude...maybe.

Maternal Instincts

Mother. Mom. Mommy. Mama. No matter what you call her your mom has the innate ability to bring structure and order to your life. So what happens when you leave your maternal influence at home and step out into the world on your own. You find other "Moms"** to take care of you.

**unfortunately that maternal instinct doesn't actually set in until you have kids of your own...so really we are just a bunch of kids!

Tongue-Tied

Have you ever met someone new and felt, almost instantly, that you have known this person all your life? The two of you just click. Your conversation by-passes the niceties, the where are you from's and the tell me about yourself's, and goes directly to the witty banter. Those wonderfully quick back and fourths you rarely see outside of a TV sitcom. However this puts you in the awkward situation of bringing up the fact that you do not know each others names yet!
So since this is in fact a true story and I am that girl who has met a cute nameless boy, I am seeking the advice of my fellow bloggers for the best way to add an introduction into what is a nearly seemless conversation. All advice is good advice so don't be shy!

Sexy 101

The hot professor is every college students dream come true. Waking up far too early, slightly hung over and stumbling yourself to class only to find your teacher strangely resembling NBA super-star Dwight Howard is the perfect pick-me-up. Whether it was his smooth velvet voice or his strong poised nature I could hardly keep from drooling over my new Multiculturalism professor. His knowledge and insight of the world we live in seduced me into a deep yearning to learn more. I can tell already that I am going to REALLY like this class. And to address the wedding ring that snugs tightly over his left-hang finger, I see it as a mere challenge that I am prepared to endure.

Doggy Style

It is time for me to leave again. I have packed away all that I need and everything that I take comfort in. The car is equipped with novel-esque Vogue magazines and plenty of snacks (except for Cheetos because they are just too messy!) The only thing there is left to do is to say goodbye. Although I am not particularly found of the act I have grown to tolerate goodbyes. I have parted ways from those who mean the most to mean with ease and comfort in knowing I will have the opportunity to see them again. However goodbyes are not so easy for our furry canine friends. My dog Maggie cannot take comfort in the notion that I will be coming back for the holiday season because she does not know that. For all she knows I walk out that door never to return again. So I am taking this time to tell my dear Maggie and any others who live in the fear of not knowing, I will in fact return and look forward to meeting you again.

There are still Republicans? But the War is over. Slavery was abolished.

Sometimes it confuses me why Republicans still exists. Old wealthy Republicans making up the small minority whom are benefitting from the Bush tax cuts I understand, but young Republicans, really? What's the point. When you are young you are penny-less. You are bright-eyed and bushy tailed, hoping to please anyone and everyone you meet. It only makes sense to be a Democrat.
In a world that is constantly changing it would be foolish not to adapt to those changes. To prepare ourselves for what is to come and to hope that with the right will power we can outdo any obsticale.
The idea of a young Republican is that of a predictable future, a future no different from the present, a future without progression and my opinion the knowledge of the future is something that is reserved ony for gypsies.

Missing: One marble keepsake with the words "Anything's Possible" inscripted onto It

I am 19 years-old. Soon to be a sophomore in college and officially dream-less. I realize the irony of the situation, yes, and although I should be all Martin Luther Kinging it I don't have dream. You see the thing is I am a realist. (in the sense that realist is just a nicer way of saying quitter). I did have a dream once. Throughout my whole life I had wanted to work in fashion. I began sketching designs when I was 6, I watched the E! network religiously and knew more about Giovanni Versace and "Coco" Chanel than I did of my good friends. However after graduation the time to kick-start my dream presented itself, and what do realists do in the midst of roaring dream engines...run far far away. I decided then and there that that dream of mine was too difficult. That there was no way I could ever "realistically" work in fashion. So I quit. I quit in spite of everything I had been told. In spite of having the words "anything's possible" nearly tattooed onto my skin.
Don't get the wrong impression. This is in no way a woe-is-me blog, rather it is an ode to the very essence of every realist, the abilty to accept. I have accepted my dreamlessness and decided to tap into my other interests. So now I am the every college student equipped with a marble keepsake with a much more senseable phrase entitled "Something's Possible."