Author Archives: evragam

Voices Project: Gender Dysphoria

Video Essay

Throughout my research on transgenderism and gender dysphoria, I kept coming across the idea that representation matters. This seems obvious, because yeah it is, but I didn’t realize how dominant it actually was. How naive of me, for assuming that an accepting, welcoming environment could make up for a lack of visibility. From the fictional tale of Claude to the experiences of the various TED speakers though, it was clear that having supportive friends and family isn’t enough. Despite knowing their close, immediate community was understanding of their identity, people struggled to be themselves until they saw those similar to them in the mainstream. It’s made me realize just how important having trans models, actors, and athletes is and why we as a society should not only support, but truly prioritize, that representation. 

I’ve also learned that the truth always has a way of coming out, aka it’s inevitable. Whether it’s hiding one’s true identity from others or even ourselves, it can only be denied for so long. Ultimately, it’s much harder to pretend or put up a facade, than to live the truth, no matter how difficult or impossible it may appear. All of the voices I sourced from were people who openly live as trans, though they all came out at different points in their lives. The common denominator then, was that they all decided to accept the truth about themselves and live authentically. I found the lesson inspiring but also sage advice, as any effort dedicated to hiding oneself is effort wasted. 

TLDR: actions speak louder than words; amplify trans voices now. If there’s nothing else you take away from my video, please remember that.

Now I’m not sure how to segway this smoothly, so I’m gonna take a moment to reflect on my own experience at NNHS. I believe the most important thing I learned over the last four years is people over matter. Maybe this doesn’t apply to everyone, but I found myself happiest when I was with others, whether it be loved ones or strangers. I joke that I’m an introverted extrovert, which is kind of true, because I’m fairly shy by nature for someone who loves people like Kanye loves Kanye. But at the end of the day, I know it’ll ring true, because I feel most satisfied by the depth of my relationships, not the breadth of my accolades. Achieving your dreams is important, very important, second only to fulfilling your relationships to others. Because without people along the way, you’ll arrive at your destination alone, more lost than when you began. I’ve tried to remember this over the past few years and hope to for the rest of my life, since I know that’s what’s helped me lived a more meaningful, enjoyable, and fulfilling life. 

As for the one thing I’d tell incoming seniors, I’m gonna rip off 2014 aspiration/inspirational tumblr tik tok (plagiarism is not ok unless you are graduating in 3 days in which case it’s frowned upon but technically unpunishable). Ready for “my” words of wisdom? Here it is:

Comparison is the thief of joy. 

There’s always going to be someone smarter, more athletic, more popular, more artistic, more social … you get the point. Well, there’s always someone “better” than you, or at least that’s how it seems in the moment, in your little anxiety-fueled, college application crazed, perhaps even dumb in love teenage brain. There’s a million things you could choose to pick apart about yourself or your life, to feel jealous of your friends or peers, but try not to. Please be selfish. Please be egotistical. While still acknowledging the economic and political state of the world, the best thing you can do for yourself is to just think about you. Don’t let the happiness of your accomplishments, enthusiasm, and love for life be stripped by others or by toxic self comparison. Appreciate every little joy that you come across in life, both earned and entitled, with grace and gratitude. Life is good, don’t go too hard trying to convince yourself it isn’t.

Something Scary

Finish this sentence: _______________ is scary. What’d you put? Actually participating for crazy hair day? Going inside a Playboi moshpit? For me, it’s finding a roommate. Or, I guess, was, as I’m lucky enough to be on the other side of it now.

For those of you who are going to college with a mutual friend/acquaintance that you kinda like and get along with pretty well but don’t love too much to the point that living together is going to totally kill the chances of your lifelong friendship surviving for years of college—congrats, you’ve cracked the code. Or, if, for whatever reason, you spazzed out and clicked “random” on the housing contract—this applies to you too I guess. For the majority of people, though, finding a roommate is one of the most stressful parts of the college process and arguably, the most significant. I even joke that I could picture myself at just about any school, but just not with any roommate. Aka people > places but maybe don’t use that logic when picking your future college. 

Yet as someone who is going to a school where I won’t know that many people (which is actually a total shame, considering Penn State has one of the best student sections in the Big 10…it’s got rolling admission though so not too late to apply!!), I’ve tweaked out so much over finding the perfect roommate. Which sounds like an unrealistic cliche, in theory, but is actually possible. (We even wear the same size shoe! That’s gotta be fate or something). I think. Hopefully she’s not some crazy psychopath when we move in in the fall. 

How did I get so lucky, might you ask? Well I didn’t, because I put in the work. Think tinder meets hinge meets Instagram dms. Really just, so so much fun. Your roommate is oftentimes your first connection to the larger college community and as such, is worth hours and hours of time to select. Trust. I maybe wasn’t the quickest replier off the bat, but I was the heartiest, carefully crafting texts and proofreading just before sending. Especially that first message—make sure it’s solid and have a few people look over it (or maybe even write it for you lol) before you submit. Sorry, I mean send. Albeit, I’m not really qualified to give advice on this as my roommate actually messaged me first but I did spend a ton of time trying to text her back. And every time after that. Until we got to that point where we were genuinely comfortable with each other and now it’s pretty casual like friends. But I believe that status has to be earned. 

Which brings me to my second major tip (of two). Be a little fake, we all are. I’m not saying lie about your housing preferences because that’ll just end up screwing you over more than anything. I’m talking, ditch the periods, overdo the exclamations, and overall, just try to be the most approachable version of yourself. Everyone is trying to talk to strangers, an intimidating process in itself, so give yourself (and your future roomie) a hand in trying to make it a little less scary. My friends always quip that I am a blunt texter. Lots of “ok”s and not a single “:)” in sight. So, for the great roomie search, I tried to nice up my texting etiquette a bit and I think it helped a ton in bagging my dream roommate. After the fact, I found out she mass messaged a few girls so why she finally popped the question to me is still a bit of a mystery. 

Oh, and that brings me to my first (and only) mistake: staying loyal. Finding a roommate is just like using a dating app, so don’t put all your eggs in one basket. I definitely had the choice to diversify and just didn’t, out of some superstitious fear that if I did the universe would look down on me and magically none of them would work out. But really, I just got lucky. Most of the people you are messaging are probably messing around with other people too, so keep a roster since you don’t know when people are gonna spontaneously pair up. It’s kind of like Bachelor in Paradise.

Anyways, I’ve hit my mental word count so I’ll leave it at that. And if you’re still looking for ideas on what to say, take a look at this page out of my notes app (see above). I cannot tell you how many minutes were logged trying to craft that message but all I gotta say is that it was worth it in the end. Hope you guys have good luck on your roommate journeys too!

I <3 High School (Television)

So much so, that I apparently can’t get enough of it. A good 99% of the shows I watch are set in high school, so I take great pleasure in comparing my seemingly mundane life to the ones I see on screen. Funny thing though, I never actually see the characters watch TV … maybe I ought to try that more often. Imo, that’s probably why they lead such exciting lives. 

Anyways, I just started a new one a couple of days ago after discovering it was on HBO Max. (Side note, HBO is where it’s at. Though it may not have as many offerings as Netflix, what it lacks for in quantity it more than makes up for in quality. From throwbacks to originals, there is not a single flop on that app. Istg). Tbh, I’m a little embarrassed to say I’ve stayed up till like one more than a couple of nights this week, just to catch another episode. To preserve the integrity of this blog though, I’ll refrain from naming said show and you can try to guess which title currently has a chokehold on me. If you’ve come within 5 feet of me in the past few days, however, this’ll be pretty easy. I have not shut up about it (sorry!!). 

Also disclaimer: I excluded all Disney (and all of its affiliates: Disney XD, Disney Jr, etc.) shows as well as all Nickelodeon shows from this review. I’ve watched like practically every single one so this blog would be way too long if I were to include all of them. Just know that, in hindsight, most are pretty trash. They were golden for their time and aged oh so terribly so I’d recommend you not re-watch them as a way to keep the charm alive. 

Now, on to the main program:

13 Reasons Why

-controversial af but a potentially good concept (?) that just went awry

-time skips made it super duper confusing cuz I could never tell when Hannah was in the picture and when she wasn’t

-mature topics yet not as bad as Euphoria, but lacks the aesthetic appeal that makes it worthwhile so maybe skip this one

All American 

-inspired by a true story yet somehow truly cliche, if you like that kind of thing (I do)

-goes off the rails after season 1 but the craziness is lowk entertaining 

-overall good plot and great eye candy

Boys Over Flowers

-one of the few kdramas I watched and my favorite by far

-everyone ik hated it sm but I loved the dramatics, fanatics, and flare of the upper crust lifestyle (sucker for this in general)

-rich boy poor girl + school bully + soulmates + strangers to lovers trope

Euphoria

-unpopular opinion but way too graphic to be enjoyable

-personally more interested in the Cassie-Maddie-Nate storyline than the Rue-Jules one

-imo not at all realistic so prob why I didn’t like it but love the fashion/makeup so I try to keep up on the socials

Gilmore Girls

-so. freaking. slow. how sm ppl rewatch this show is rly beyond me

-prob team Logan or Dean, I didn’t rly like Jess’s personality but they’re all so hot

-cute and aesthetically pleasing but all of the characters are flawed and it’s infuriating—every time I thought someone was fine they entered their villain arc and it made me want to scream

Gossip Girl

-some of the cheapest trashiest television around and also one of my favorite shows of all time

-fashion inspo, confidence inspo, travel inspo, life inspo all around

-the storylines got repetitive at times and am guilty of skipping around a bit but so iconic and inspirational and just generally entertaining

Grand Army

-only one season on Netflix and sadly wasn’t renewed (rip)

-really interesting and diverse (!!!) and tackles similar topics to 13 Reason Why but in a fresh, relatable way that is 10000000x better

-professional critics feel the multiple differing storylines were too confusing and muddled the meaning but this professional TV aficionado thinks it was perf

High School Musical: The Musical: The Series

-couldn’t get thru 5 min without cringing bc the characters literally act like middle school pre-teens

-All I Want is the only good original piece to come out of this dumpster fire of a show

-stick to the movie!! I beg you!! or even the Olivia-Joshua tik tok drama!! anything is better than the show I promise

Never Have I Ever

-also cringey but was made by my queen Mindy Kaling so I had to watch

-honestly quite funny and depressingly relatable :/ (though it did inspire me to make some changes so it wouldn’t be as relatable)

-they rly did everyone dirty with the costuming tho so if I could change one thing it would be that 

One Tree Hill

-why is every single person in the cast so hot I genuinely have never seen a better looking group of people in my life (irl or online) … also Chad Michael Murray need I say more

-cliche like All American but ig I have a soft spot for the sports themed shows

-what I think of when I think of teens living in America (minus the diversity since it was made like twenty years ago)

Saved by the Bell

-one of the first “real” teen shows I watched back when it was on Netflix and had literally 9 pixels (it’s now remastered on HBO but I hate rewatching things)

-kind of forgot a lot of the plot but remember rly enjoying it and it’s another all american classic like One Tree Hill

-pretty cute and much more PG compared to a lot of the shows on this list

The Carrie Diaries

-watched it before seeing Sex and the City so that was an interesting (for reference The Carrie Diaries is supposed to be a prequel, detailing the life of SATC protagonist Carrie Bradshaw during her high school years)

-well-fleshed out characters who are pretty likable; some personality discrepancies though now knowing Carrie in SATC

-liked the focus on fashion and would overall recommend! an unexpected find on Netflix that still somewhat underground I’d say

The Vampire Diaries

-thought it was gonna be weird so I held off on watching it until Tiffany  (still Team Stefan but not for Elena cuz hes better than her sorry not sorry) convinced me to give it a shot

-un poco scary if you watch it at night but also its just supernormal stuff which isn’t that bad?

-idt they even go to school ever so idk if it qualifies as a high school show lol

Also honorable mention to the shows I started but never stuck with (aka watched more than an episode or two) since I feel like I’m ethically not allowed to pass judgment on them:

-Chilling Adventures of Sabrina

-Dawson’s Creek

-Degrassi

-Elite

-Fresh Prince

-Friday Night Lights

-Glee

-Pretty Little Liars

-Riverdale

-Sex Education

-Skins

-The Society

You were fine, I guess, but there’s a reason I never stuck with you. 

          -XOXO

          Eshani

Justice for Justice

I thought it was love at first sight when I fell head over heels for fashion in the second grade; neon graphics and gaudy embellishments capturing my adoration through the glass of the obnoxiously loud window display. At the time, there was nothing I wanted more in this world than an awkwardly long, highlighter yellow cotton t-shirt starring a Beanie-Baby-stylized monkey donning a glittery pink polka dot dress with a matching bow. Cute, I know.

I had to beg my mom for a year to let me shop at Justice* before I ever got to step foot in that slice of pre-teen heaven. Yet after months of reading the catalogs (cover to cover and back), I knew every spread like the back of my hand. I figured I had a photographic memory, but it must be selective or something since the ability has never quite transferred over to other facets of my life. Sucks.

So, I showed up to school the next week in full popular girl uniform, which at Norton Creek Elementary School meant mid-wash jeggings and 3-D animal-themed top. We walked so furries could run. I vaguely remember getting a few compliments, maybe … possibly? And so the Justice addiction began. Unfortunately, my mom insisted we also shop at Children’s Place and GAP Kids, but I was able to gradually increase the proportion of Justice items purchased (thanks to its never-ending 40% off sale) from roughly 0.46 to 0.95. Pretty significant if you ask me. But by the time I moved, I was starting to come to my senses. Tricked out t-rexes and tiny little tares weren’t timeless, frankly they were trashy. And I was hellbent (a term I didn’t discover until a few years later, albeit) on figuring out why I ever thought otherwise. 

Turns out, what I thought was love at first sight was merely a deep infatuation and what I wanted most in this world wasn’t a popping primate top but to fit in with my peers. St. Charles is a fairly homogenous town and other than this one other girl in my grade who had a “white-washed” name, I was the only one like me. I couldn’t straighten my frizzy hair down or wax my hairy arms away so I changed the one thing I could—my style. And while the thought nauseates me, I think deep down I may have actually kind of liked the clothes at Justice. The problem was, that was never the reason why I wore them. 

I wore them because a girl in Kindergarten once told me, while playing American Girl dolls (note: I didn’t say with, as we were quite literally pretending to be the dolls ourselves), that I could only be Kaya or Addie because I was dark. And how dare I even ask to play pretty blonde Laine or spunky little Kit, I was nothing like them. Or did I just look nothing like them? Kaya and Addie are gorgeous girls with wonderful personalities—I truly have nothing against them—but personally, I always identified more with Molly. Her orthodox nature paralleled my own in so many ways and well, I was five so I just thought the fact that she wore glasses (like me!) made her pretty darn cool. But hey, apparently my classmates didn’t think so and I was assigned to only play the Native American or African American character in all of our games. In hindsight, they probably didn’t even realize I was another race entirely. Though I left those “friends” behind when I entered public school, the incident stuck with me as a reminder to try to assimilate as much as I could. Maybe then, with an even playing field, I would get a fair shot at representing myself as I saw fit. 

It’s meant to be a telling but lighthearted story, and I definitely don’t hold anything against the two girls in my Kindergarten class (yes, there was a 3:14 girl:boy ratio, and no, I still did not find myself a boyfriend). But I think it summarizes a lot of my struggles with myself, my community, and my attempts to bridge the gap between the two for much of my early childhood. So when people ask me when I started to love fashion, I usually just say the second grade and unlock a memory long forgotten by mentioning Justice. Har-dee-har, what a good ‘ole laugh. But the story goes a little deeper than that and my relationship with my style, which has changed not just literally but symbolically over the years, says everything about me in a nutshell.

———————————————————————————————————————————–

I fell back in love, or should I say, fell in love for the first time, with fashion in the fourth grade. It was then that I started to experiment, create, dare, celebrate, and truly express myself. And though I feel myself regress back into my shell at times, something as simple as putting on a defining outfit, one that I wouldn’t normally want to showcase to the world but love to wear in the comfort of my own home, helps me fortify my sense of self. 

Not to be dramatic or anything, but fashion is definitely my soulmate. Anyone that comes after will just have to settle for second. 

 

 

 

 

*According to Google “Justice is an online clothing and lifestyle retailer targeting the tween girl market, formerly owned by Tween Brands, Inc., later by Ascena Retail Group, and currently by Bluestar Alliance LLC. Justice sells apparel, underwear, sleepwear, swimwear, lifestyle, accessories, and personal care products for girls age 6–14”

the Perfect Playlist

And you won’t believe it—it’s the same for everyone! If you open up your music app of choice, you can toggle over to the library tab and the playlist should be right up at the top labeled: Liked Songs. I firmly maintain that when acquired through a subscription account (unlimited shuffles are a must), this is the only playlist any person will ever need. If you only have Spotify Free … feel free to find another blog post. I’m afraid there’s nothing for you here.

I genuinely think there is almost nothing better than re-discovering a song you had long forgotten and falling in love with it all over again. This playlist is the perfect snapshot of your tastes over the years, allowing you to reminisce on past moments and memories. Given you don’t make a new account every two years after forgetting your password, Liked Songs is really a time capsule of what you had on repeat way back when. Speaking from past experience though, maintaining an account for an extended period of time on a specific platform is key to maximizing the versatility of this playlist. So if you’re still using that Spotify account linked to your school email, maybe hold off on going all in with the Liked Songs … it’ll expire in about four months anyways. 

While some say that the collage of various styles and artists contributes to musical whiplash, you have to remember what you’re paying for. At $9.99/month (or $15.99/month for 6 accounts under the family plan—check it out if you haven’t already!!), you best be using the skips you dished out the big bucks for. Something come up that you don’t totally dig? Don’t be afraid to skip to the next. I feel like there’s sometimes a stigma with skips but when you fully commit to the Liked Songs lifestyle, that goes completely out the window. 

As for quantity, I say the more the merrier! My Liked Songs has a modest 344 tracks at the moment, but that’s only because I’ve been lazy with liking them as of late. I know others with 500+ or 1000+ songs and it only gets better from there. The more songs you have, the more options you have, so I wouldn’t shy away from being generous with that heart-shaped button. The only issue, then, with simplifying all your playlists into just the one, is remembering to like songs regularly. This is where even I struggle a bit, so I concede that it’s not a perfect system. Ultimately, it’s still a lot less work than making a bajillion playlists for every mood, genre, situation, etc. that you could find yourself in. 

I know there’s some people that’ll never buy into this idea, namely the ones that put down “making playlists” as one of their hobbies. Those that read the last sentence of the earlier paragraph and thought: hey, that’s my idea of a perfect Sunday. I respect it, I really do, but I just don’t understand it. It’s so challenging to match moods across genres or artists and even harder to find that perfect cover or caption. So for those like me, this is, in my humble opinion, the easiest way to ensure you always like what you’re listening to. After all, you liked the song in the first place.  

 Still unconvinced? Just click shuffle!

“kitty”. sixteen,5’1”,white,prostitute

After reading E.E. Cummings’ “‘kitty’. sixteen,5’1”,white,prostitute” for the first time, the only thing I felt I knew for certain was the literal subject of the poem: an unknown, unspecified young woman nick-named “kitty.” I didn’t really understand the trajectory or storyline and I definitely had no idea what message the author was trying to put forth in the last two lines. 

After reading it a couple of times, hoping the meaning would magically come to me (but to no avail) I decided to take it line by line. Immediately, the descriptors conjure the image of a pale, petite, fragile teenager, giving the reader their first impression of the subject. The structure seemed almost like a dating profile or modeling cover sheet, but I wasn’t sure why. The suggestive nickname of “kitty” appears mildly condescending, comparing the young woman’s disposition to that of a meek, helpless kitten. Kitty could also be a stage or show name, since sex workers often go by them for safety and privacy. I remembered that later, “‘kitty’” was changed to “Kitty,” perhaps signaling that it isn’t just a nickname but her real name. Or maybe, to support my initial assertion, she was referring to herself as “kitty” as a pseudonym but the men she encounters believe it is her real identity. It really made me think about what goes into a name and how they define us, whether we would like them to or not. I wondered: perhaps identity was a theme of this poem? After all, her name was mentioned three times in the poem. 

The next line stumped me though, as I was unsure what “must” and “shall” referred to (Cummings line 2). At first I thought they were objects, as she was always “ducking” away from their “touch,” but then it hit me—they were commands! The woman, “kitty,” is shying away from mens’ demands for her to perform sexual acts, which is unusual since she is supposed to be a prostitute. It paints her as someone who is participatory but begrudgingly so, revealing undesirable feelings towards her profession. The third line gave me more trouble than the second. Her “slippery body” probably meant that she was skinny, seductive, and lithe, but what did Death’s pal mean (Cummings line 3)? Is she men’s downfall? Is the work of prostitution slowly wearing away at her soul? Who is metaphorically dying here, and why? I read on to see if I could find out. 

Unfortunately, the next few lines were of no help. They continue to characterize “kitty” as a docile, dumb doll, drawing comparisons once again to an animal. Then Cummings messes with the capitalization, changing “sixteen” to “Sixteen.” I didn’t know what purpose this served, other than reminding the reader of her young, vulnerable age. After the indent, however, I identified a shift in audience, with the speaker now addressing a man, instead of vaguely describing “kitty” at large. The man must be the “corking brute,” I reasoned, but what did the following lines mean (Cummings line 9)? Was the speaker making fun of the men for being “amused” by a minor, unable to find suitable partners their own age (Cummings line 10)? But then the reference to Sunday mass, with the “sunday flower,” made no sense to me (Cummings line 11). Cummings appears to be allusion heavy but I couldn’t seem to think of an alternate meaning or creative interpretation to explain the phrase. 

A line later, the reference to the woman’s age again, “twice eight,” perplexed me (Cummings line 12). Why did the author feel the need to highlight this detail three times throughout the entire poem?  Then I remembered the significance of one’s sixteenth birthday, analogous to Quinceñeras or Bat Mitzvahs in other cultures. Turning this age was, historically, considered the time that girls entered womanhood—despite not even being legal. Sixteen is an ambiguous, promiscuous period in a young woman’s development, when society begins to sexualize her though she is just a child. Maybe Cummings was trying to draw attention to the hypersexualization of youth through his repeated mention of the subject’s age and reference to her being “babybreasted” (Cummings line 12). The repetition does makes the reader slightly uncomfortable with the nature of the poem, underrage prostitution. Still, I wasn’t too sure why it was phrased in the way that it was.

The first few times I read this poem I didn’t get the line “—beer nothing, the lady’ll have a whiskey-sour—” (Cummings line 13). Somehow, while writing this paper, it hit me that it was a line of dialogue. The lack of quotations definitely threw me off, but it appears as though an unspecified, alleged male figure is ordering a drink for “kitty.” I’m not familiar with drinking culture, for obvious reasons, so I tried to do a little research on whiskey sours. Key word try, as everything I searched for came up empty. This made me wonder why Cummings chose to name drop this specific drink, besides the fact that it was alcoholic and the girl was underage. I’m still wondering to be honest. 

Finally, the part of the poem that gave me the most trouble was upon me: the final stanza. Though I read and reread it, I just didn’t understand what it meant. Her smile being considered a “common divisor” suggests that it is well-liked (Cummings line 15). But why call it “least amazing” (Cummings line 14)? What does least amazing even mean? Ugly? Forgettable? Overhyped? Superficial? The description perplexed me, to say the least. Even without, I didn’t understand what the phrase meant. Who were these “unequal souls”? Men of different social classes perhaps? Or maybe those good and bad, upstanding citizens and ruthless criminals? Perhaps it was a critique of men in general, as the quality of their character had no bearing on their willingness to engage in immoral acts. This would be reasonable, as prostitution is an activity people from the top of Capital Hill to the local penitentiary partake in. 

Though I couldn’t quite nail the meaning of the last two lines, or phrases such as “Sunday flower” and “two eight,” I felt I was able to extrapolate enough information to pinpoint the general theme of the poem. I deduced that “‘kitty’. sixteen,5’1”,white,prostitute” offered commentary on prostitution and warned of the manipulation and deumanization it promoted. With this logic, the “Death’s littlest pal” line made sense, as her livelihood wore away at her liveliness. The speaker appears to be a biased third person narrator, describing both “kitty” and the men she engages with, while peppering judgements and descriptions along the way. As someone who lived in the 20s, during the wildly promiscuous era of flappers and even more scandalous age of Prohibition, Cummings’ topic of choice makes a lot of sense. Though I don’t understand every line to a tee, I appreciate his female-sympathetic take on a once contemporary social issue in America.

Jumping Into The Century Farms Pond And Other Items On My Second Semester Bucket List

The sun sets before 5 pm, the windchill pulls the temperature subzero, and that leftover layer of snow from last week’s late afternoon flurry finally hardened into a very slippery layer of ice that just caused your car to skid wildly while backing out of the driveway. It’s finally here everyone—the dead of winter.

Though in the past this time of year was met with resentment and resignation, so far, this new season has elicited a different kind of response. Because after waiting 12 years for my life to finally begin (kidding!!) I am proud to announce that second semester senior year has arrived. Anyone who knows me knows that I am such a dreamer, but not in a whimsical, head in the clouds, creative savant sort of way. No no, it’s much more along the lines of I-set-my-expectations-way-too-high-and-always-get-dissapointed. As much of a realist I am for practical matters, I genuinely believe that my grasp on reality is thin, and emboldened by senior rhetoric, rapidly slipping. So much so that I’ve created a bucket list (not in the span of days though, it’s actually been a work in progress for a few years now). Already, the type of people to make bucket lists are the kind to have enough things to put on them. And if you have that many things to put on them you probably haven’t done much with your time in high school. And if you weren’t much of an experience person then, who’s to say you are actually going to do those things now. Or at least that’s what my mom tells me when I tell her I want to try illicit substances. Kidding! Ok, for real this time.

For better or for worse, I’ve acquired a bucket list from my past selves, riddled with all the things I wish I did (and probably did in some alternate universe) and now would like to do. It’s even written on a “to-do” sticky pad so I guess I deserve some bonus points for that? Anyways, this blog is for me to share them, which is kind of dumb since research shows announcing your goals makes you less likely to achieve them? But I figure I’m probably the exception. In no particular order:

  • Cannonball into the Century Farms pond
    • Actually looking for people to do this one with me so this is an open call to hmu
  • Camp out in my backyard (after putting up the tent myself)
  • Bake a cake with more than one tier from scratch and decorate it prettily
  • Go skydiving
    • Technically you have to be 18 in Illinois to do this so ig it’s not my fault that I haven’t ticked it off yet
  • Go bungee jumping
  • Participate in a (fake) Survivor competition
    • Heard about it from this kid who knew this kid who lives in the house next to Frank Lloyd Wright’s mistress’s house in Oak Park and I’ve been intrigued ever since … too bad I’m going to India when it’s supposed to happen 🙁
  • Take Amtrack’s Pacific Surfliner
  • Take a cross-country roadtrip in an RV
  • Run a marathon (though I’ll settle for a half, or realistically, even a 5K under 30 minutes)
  • Participate in a 24 hour dance marathon
  • Ditch a full day of school (w/o getting called out)
  • Actually post on vsco
    • Mostly so I can find a college roommate…
  • Burn all my notebooks in a bonfire
    • Except this’ll never happen since my parents have been making me save all of my school stuff for my younger brother since 4th grade
  • Go ice skating on a random frozen lake (commercialized ones don’t count)
  • Go paragliding
  • Try a zero gravity chamber
    • Hella expensive tho so support me on gofundme
  • Try cryotherapy
  • Buy something from an estate sale
  • Put my head through the sunroof while someone speeds down Ogden at night
    • Have participated in this many a times but alas, have always been the driver
  • Successfully do a donut in a parking lot
  • Climb the roof of the school
  • Try shrooms in a foreign country
    • So maybe not for second semester senior year of high school but no one said anything about college!
  • Learn how to do a handstand
  • Complete Colonial Cafe’s Kitchen Sink challenge by myself
  • Learn how to play poker
  • Call in for advice on a radio talk show
    • I gave advice once last summer but I suppose it was subpar or something cuz they didn’t even air my segment! How rude!
  • Go cliff jumping
  • Wear leather pants to school
  • Binge watch the entire Harry Potter series
  • Host a red flags party
    • FYI red flags are the new white lies
  • Pull an all-nighter
  • Go paintballing
  • Go to a drive-in movie
  • Climb a tree (minimum height of 10 feet)
  • Do the Sonic Challenge on a late arrival day
    • Sorry in advance Trow!
  • Bury a time capsule somewhere in Naperville

If you’re another hopeless romantic dreaming about second semester senior year drop your top to-do items too, because who are we kidding, you probably have a bucket list to rival mine. And if you’re not but still happen to have a bucket list, drop your recs too. Beggars can’t be choosers.

Miss Movin’ On

As Fifth Harmony said, “everything is changing and I never wanna go back to the way it was.” For all the things I’m going to miss about my hometown, high school, and early teens, who I was three years ago won’t be one of em. Don’t get me wrong, I’m super grateful for the people I’ve met and the memories I’ve made, but after quite literally the best semester of my life, I have plenty of regrets about the other six. 

In three words: lack of balance. I didn’t have much of it the last three years (my own fault tbh) but I’m thinking maybe I can turn it around for this last one. I’ve always grouped lifestyles into mutually exclusive categories. To me, social and academic couldn’t co-exist. And not to be a debbie downer but oops too late I’m kind of already being one: I sacrificed a good bit of what I wanted to do in high school by convincing myself if time wasn’t spent working, it was being wasted. In hindsight, kind of toxic for a thirteen year old or even a thirty year old but hey! you live and you learn! It was nothing too crazy but I think the mentality caused me to miss out on a bunch of life lessons/skills that I really wished to experience before college. I’m trying to make up for lost time now though, so wish me luck as I cram four years of teenage angst into one semester! 

Along the lines of life and school and all that jazz, I have to have to address college. My “thing” this year was to just not talk about it but I’m an imperfect human so I’ll admit, I’ve definitely gotten wrapped up in higher education talk here and there. And sometimes everywhere but trust that I definitely regret it afterwards. I’m still working on it so if you’re reading this—please hold me accountable! Not gonna lie I totally vowed not to write about college anywhere on my blog (which was originally supposed to be a fashion blog but I got lazy trying to keep up a theme … anyways I digress) but when it comes to senior year takeaways, it’s probably my biggest one. Plus I can always just delete this post at the semester’s end and wipe my blog clean of any evidence. It’ll be like it was never here. 

If I could tell freshman me anything, it would be to not stress out about college so much. If I didn’t maybe I would’ve lived up to my pediatrician’s 5’11” prediction, became a world famous supermodel, and wouldn’t even have to go to college. My older cousins and friends always joked about how unmotivated and lazy they were in middle school (and 9th and 10th grade) but that junior year was when they really got down to business. They started taking shit seriously and threw themselves headfirst into the college application process. Some attended the college of their dreams and others the college of their despairs, but by and large the message I was getting was that the last two years of high school were crucial. Every waking (and non waking) hour of every day, I had to be focused on the prize if I wanted to achieve the ever elusive goal of obtaining a prestigious college acceptance. 

If it wasn’t already obvious, my senior year self took that advice and ran 1000 miles in the opposite direction. Ok, maybe a thousand is a bit of an exaggeration—after all, my friends know me as someone who is very much conscious of the whole college admissions process. But trust me when I say my mind is a lot more distant (in a good way) and at peace these days. 

My parents, bless their souls, have always insisted that it’s the person not the prestige that makes one successful. Although I nod along and remark that they’re just preaching to the choir, I haven’t truly internalized the notion until this year (to be fair, I haven’t really tried). I think part of it is that the expectations to be “successful” and “accomplished” have been steadily building up like a pressure cooker. Come August, I had two options: let it get to me until I exploded or open the valve and simmer down. And though I would’ve loved to have come to this conclusion earlier, I know that it simply would’ve been impossible. It took specific circumstances (senior year) and an environmental catalyst (quarantine) to consider that maybe the worldview ingrained within me wasn’t necessarily the best to believe. 

Now, as I look at my college spreadsheet, I can picture a fun, fulfilling future at (almost … sorry to that one school you know who you are) every single college on that list. Whether I end up at my safety or get into a reach, I can finally, genuinely, say I’m excited for what the future holds. My type A, neurotic, older sibling personality isn’t going anywhere and contrary to popular belief, neither is my potential. I regret ever letting myself think otherwise. 

Clearly, I’ve spent an embarrassing amount of time first semester complaining about the past: about what could’ve been and should’ve been but wasn’t and what I would’ve done differently if I hadn’t done what I did. But my mom has gotten a bit fed up as of late, and that’s definitely not a good sign considering she’s the most patient person I know. So with this blog, I’m gonna (try) to finally close the chapter on my regrets and (taking a page out of Baby Sugg’s book) give myself some grace. I can’t rewrite the past and I’ll certainly make some questionable life choices in the future, but I’ll aim to do so without regrets. You only get every day once and I’m #driven to squeeze the most out of them … even if it’s taken me 6434 to realize it.

What Would You Bring To A Deserted Island?

Oh no, you’re stranded on a deserted island! What ever will you do?

Fear not! You’ve been graciously afforded the opportunity to be sent a parcel containing your most sacred belongings: items that you can not and will not live without. Forget your airpods or your snuggie though, as this package only contains the essentials.

What could possibly be in the suitcase you may ask? Why clothes of course! If you disagree on what constitutes the bare necessities feel free to exit now … I don’t think we can be friends. 

Let’s get one thing straight. Fashion is culture and culture is civilization and without civilization you’re no more than a savage living on an island. I’m sure none of us want a repeat of Lord of the Flies. I’m sure if Jack had access to his walk-in closet back home, he wouldn’t go all bazooka on Piggy. He would just stomp his Oxford loafers, readjust grandaddy’s cuff links, and go on with his day. 

Fortunately, you have the chance to do something Jack never got to do, which is to pick out 12 things from your wardrobe to bring to said island. I say twelve because it’s just right for a capsule collection—without running the risk of ending up like Steve Jobs 2.0. Speaking of him, I would include a black mock neck and Levi’s 501s in mine. Hard pass on the New Balance sneakers though, dad shoes just aren’t for me. I’ll be sure to pass them on to Faith though! Anyways, I digress. Twelve, like I said, is enough to generate a capsule wardrobe that reflects your personal style without being wasteful, disjoint, or generic. With minimalism as the new in thing, lots of bloggers are jumping on the trend and scaling down. There’s some great inspo out there if you’re interested. 

Beyond the basics (white button up, denim shorts, tan tank, etc.) I think I’d dedicate a good 4 of my spots to frivolous articles: non versatile, seasonal, occasion-specific clothes that just make me feel good for no good reason. If I were stuck on an island feeling anything less than fabulous, I figure I’d at least want to look the part. Definitely my gingham picnic #$@&%*! dress (s/o best dressed for coining the term) and my flared sweatshirt dress and my mini cheetah wrap dress. So maybe I like a good dress, sue me. Oh! And I may have forgotten to mention this earlier but skip the shoes. Too many sneakerheads out there and I worry you all would pick out 12 pairs and nothing else. Not to say that exhibitionism is all that uncommon on deserted islands but that kind of defeats the whole point of this exercise. So I’m at what, 8 items? I’ll go pink knit sweater (embarrassingly middle school but probably the single most me thing I own), brown sweat shorts, denim jacket, and prom dress. T’was a steal but I still need to get good use out of it. All about that cost per wear baby. Plus I think it’d be pretty fun to run across the beach in a floor length gown (and when it gets cold at nightfall, throw on the denim jacket and it’ll grunge up the look). 

Now it’s your turn—what’ll it be? 

Afterthought: From ice breakers to 21 questions we’re always asked what three things we would bring to an island. Most of us have been conditioned to give practical, realistic answers, well trained by twelve years in the American education system. Or we’ll say something cutesy like our mom or sister or best friend (spoiler: they’re not “things,” they actually fall under the noun classification of “people”). But that says literally nothing about us and everything about how generic and run-of-the-mill everyone else is. You’re not though, are you? Maybe start answering in a way that reflects that. It’ll make the first day of school a hell of a lot more interesting.

So I caved …

… and decided to do a ranking this week. I kept thinking and thinking on what to write about but I came up short. So, to keep things simple, I’m gonna pull out ole trusty: a tier list. 

Disclaimer: No shade to anyone who does their blogs this way, since you definitely pour a lot of time and effort into them. They are super fun to make and even more fun to read, so from one blogger to another, hopefully I make the niche proud.

Easy part over. After deciding to do a list it was time to actually pin down a topic. Lucky for me, I needn’t look further than the cover of our latest lit novel. That’s right folks, this is another Red era blog post. Hope you’re happy. And if you’re not a fan, I hope you keep reading—you’ve made it this far!

Full disclosure, I heavily debated writing about anything Taylor related at all. Since there are so many Swifties in class, I worried the topic would be cheugy and overdone. But at the same time, we’re talking about the greatest artist of our generation so is there even such a thing as cheugy and overdone when it concerns her? (NO). In fact, I pray your feed gets clogged with Taylor Swift. It’s what we all deserve.

In sticking with the Red re-recording, I was planning on ranking all of the songs on the album, but to be honest, it’s not one of my favs and I don’t have an extra two hours between now and Friday to hold another listening party. Eshani! How could you say such a thing so close to November 13th! I’m embarrassed of myself too but Red without the touch of personal heartbreak just doesn’t hit the same. 

Instead, this cuffing season (wishing you all a very merry one!), I’ll rank her discography—a far more simple and relatable production for my mainstream audience. 

  1. Top Notch: I really challenged myself with this tier, by deliberately only selecting one album. It was super hard to bump Rep and 1989 down—that’s two thirds of my holy trinity mind you! What was not hard at all was giving Speak Now the first spot. When I say I eat, breathe, and sleep this record I am literally not exaggerating. It’s my go to for practically everything, from driving to homework, and I don’t think I’ve gone a day without hearing it. Every song so enchanting (; and mesmerizing, I truly feel as though I’m transported into a fairytale when I click play (not shuffle though, I actually respect the way in which the artist chose to specifically order their songs). 
  2. Great: In any other ranking system these would deserve a place at the highest level, but due to the official unofficial limit placed on “Top Notch,” were relegated one down. 1989 was my first true love: the first complete album I bought on my iPod touch, the first concert I ever went to, and the first time I considered myself an artist’s fan. Though the honeymoon phase has worn off some, it’s easily my second favorite album of hers. At my core, I am such a pop princess, stereotypically so that I even enjoy “Welcome to New York” and “Shake It Off. I know, you’re shuddering. Also, I actually just got into Rep like a couple of months ago thanks to a friend that was raving about it and I am sooooo infatuated. It really goes to show how first impressions mean squat since at the time it was released, I loathed it. Kind of reminds me of that whole elite-friendships-are-when-you-hate-each-other-at-first idea. I recognize now that my naivety prevented me from appreciating what is considered her “darkest” album, but a newfound perspective has allowed it to grow on me loads since then. And Red, the album whose reclaiming was the exigence for this entire post. Tbh, it’s a bit more on the lower end of great for me, but it’s a solid album with some solid records (“We Are Never Getting Back Together,” “22,” “I Knew You Were Trouble” to name a few). If this were any other artist it may have been my #1 but since it’s Taylor and the rest of her discography is insane, it’s just great.
  3. Good: Folklore was unique and meaningful and illustrative but as your resident mainstream music lover, it just didn’t quite cut it for me. There are some tracks I have liked a million times over on Spotify (cough cough “Last Great American Dynasty”) but many others that I need to be in the perfect mood for—which usually means I don’t end up listening to them as much. I’ll chalk it up to not being a philosophical person. I like my music free of confusing extended metaphors ok! Now a lot of you might hate me for putting Fearless so low, and now that I’m looking at it, I’m really reconsidering. But also I’m too lazy to go back into TierMaker, change the ranking, re-screenshot, save to Google Drive, upload to WordPress, and update this blog. So for now, let’s roll with it. Fearless was my first introduction to Taylor. More specifically, listening to “You Belong With Me” every single car ride since a random record with that and The Black Eyed Peas’ “I Gotta Feeling” was the only CD we owned. Yeah, this was way (WAY) back. It’s got some of the most iconic songs I’ve ever heard and …. Ok yeah, let’s move it up to Great. Forgive me for anything bad I may have said about Fearless, I am repenting. 
  4. Cute: Evermore? More like everbore. Just kidding! All I can say is that Folklore’s sister album was not my cup of tea. Not really much else to it. Also I’m running out of words, so as difficult as it is, I’ll try to keep the rest of this brief. In terms of Debut, it was good, just a bit country for my taste. LOVE “Tim McGraw,” “Picture To Burn,” and “Teardrops On My Guitar,” but other than that, it’s not a super memorable album for me. 
  5. Good, but not a big fan: Unpopular opinion incoming but Lover is her only bad album. Like legitimately below average. Not a single song from it has made any of my playlists (and I have Fifth Harmony’s “Miss Movin’ On” … the bar is really not that high). It’s not that it’s too happy, which some people complain about, since I like happy music way more than the next person, but that it’s just too cheesy. There is little depth to both the lyrics and beat, making it an overall filler album. “Lover” is maybe maybe the only song on Lover I’ll voluntarily listen to, but even that is pushing it. I’m sorry to anyone I’ve offended but I really can’t help myself with the slander. I truly worship Taylor but sometimes I wonder what she was thinking when she released the album which shall not be named. When it comes to the L word, I am just really not a fan. 

If you’ve made it to the end, how does it feel to have way too much time on your hands? You definitely have something better to do than read a 1000+ word fangirling rant (even I’ve lost count). She couldn’t even follow the rubric smh. If I were you I’d stick to a more appropriate length blog since that’s what I’ll be doing. Oh, and don’t forget to stream Red (Taylor’s Version)! #f*ckthepatriarchy