Swim Team

To be honest, there are few things I enjoy about competitive swimming. It may come as a surprise that I don't enjoy going to practice at 8:00 at night, driving 35 minutes to Goftstown and plunging into a hot foggy pool only to swim seemingly countless laps, but let me assure you I had no intensions of repeating last year's season of spandex suits and caps.

But nevertheless, at 3:00 I sauntered into room 135, signed my name, and collected my paper work.

Why was I willing to put myself through this torture again? There are few things I despise more than laying down at 7:30 to watch tv and remembering I need to be at practice in 30 minutes. I didn't feel like I was abandoning my team, really. I'm a recreational team member meaning my times matter only to me, and my overly competitive father with his own stopwatch. So why did I pick up the papers? Because there is nothing like after a long friday practice, having a bonfire at a teammates house. Some of my fondest high school memories consist of going out to dinner after swim meets and lamenting about not wanting to go to tomorrows practice. I realized if I didn't do swim team, these nights would seise to exist. It's not that I think my friendships with my teammates are contingent on me swimming, but it would be impractical to drive up to Londonderry for pizza after a meet or to keep every Friday night open incase the team decides to go to airport diner after practice. Sure I'll probably complain about swimming late on a Tuesday night or cramming in homework before a meet, but in the end the memories I make with the team and the friendships I strengthen make it worth it.

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I met Sarah Vickers, jealous? Don't be.

There were several reasons I went to the Head of Charles this weekend: to show support for my friends in the men's and women's eight, to lament about how I wish I had chose to row this fall again rather than pick up more shifts at work, and to meet Sarah Vickers, my idol. Keeping tabs on Sarah Vickers is part of my daily ritual. When I wake up, in the minutes before I get out of bed to start my day, I check instagram to ogle at her #outfitoftheday. Midday during a history class with laptop carts, I find myself navigating to her blog "Classy Girls Wear Pearls" to pick her brain about the latest trends, and maybe some hints about her relationship with her boyfriend Kiel. Meeting Sarah was going to be a monumental day as well as a day that would be a source on envy for all my friends.

When I met Sarah Vickers, my idol, I was disappointed.

I had certain pre-conceived notions about what it would be like to meet Sarah. Whenever she attends a public event, hours later she will upload a multitude of pictures with her fans with captions such as "loved meeting these girls today" "I adore my fans" or maybe even "met new friends today. :) " I actually thought that maybe Sarah and I would become friends in some way. Maybe we would comment on each other's post or maybe even, if I was so lucky, tweet at each other. But I was mistaken. Sarah Vickers had no interest to give a loyal fan like me the time of day.

When my friends and I first approached Sarah Vickers, she gave an almost annoyed "here we go again look." Thinking I was surely mistaken, with a smile that could span across the Charles River itself, I asked if we could get a picture with her. With a simple nod of the head, she lined us up, smiled just long enough to capture the moment, then immediately reverted to her stoic, cold expression. She wished us a great rest of our day, and promptly walked back to her tent. I stood there feeling as if I had been dropped in the river myself and sunk to the bottom.

That night, feeling defeated, I returned to my bed and opened my instagram, and wandered to Sarah Vickers' page. Much to my surprise I saw a picture of my friends and myself, posing with Sarah Vickers, with a caption "Meet the most amazing fans at the Head of the Charles Today. Can't wait for next year!" At that moment I had the over whelming desire to walk into another fan's room gawking with envy over the post and share my wisdom with them; Sarah Vickers is not all she's cracked up to be. When I met her, I was disappointed.

a short poem about fall

The White Girl's Dilemma

To New Englanders, November brings weather that is nice
To Bedford girls it revolves around pumpkin spice.
The foliage is trivial compared to ugg season
To not wear a North Face would simply be treason

Hay rides and football games in my minds of adolensence
But really you will be drinking hot chocolate and watching halloween town alone.

the mothership

As I am nearing the end of my teenage years and heading into adulthood, many of my peers are having moments of realization that their seemingly demonic mother who grounded them and took away their phone when they were thirteen is actually really great. I on the other hand did not experience this life changing epiphany that my mom was suddenly the single greatest human on earth, because I have known it all along. 

My mom has been an inspiration for me since I could define the meaning of the word.  I jokingly tell her to "do less" as she is slaving away over six different kinds of cookies for my advisory party, pressing my clothes for work, and making a weeks worth of dinners for my brother to store in the freezer in his apartment, but I truly can't understand how she does it all. She has taught me countless lessons but most importantly, how to keep track of everything going on in your life while still appearing utterly fabulous to the outside world.

This summer my fearless mother was diagnosed with breast cancer and I am amazed and inspired by how she has handled everything thrown at her with grace and positivity. My mom is a survivor and does not expect pity from anyone she encounters. When she shares her story with people she immediately dismisses peoples long faces and assures them that she is happy to be alive and excited for the future. I know I would be lucky to have even half the tenacity and elegance that she does when faced with similar circumstances. And that is only one reason why my mom is the greatest human being on earth.

My New Life as a Veg

This past summer, in the midst of my outdoor adventures of being a camp counselor and the sun filled days on the lake, I accidentally became a vegetarian. I'd read about the health benefits and re pinned many recipes on Pinterest but the jump to the no meat life seemed impossible. Whenever I would try to have a vegetarian DAY I would be greeted with chicken fajitas at the dinner table. Being a vegetarian in a family of carnivores just didn't seem like a feasible goal.

When I arrived at Camp Foss for my second summer as a staff member I took with me prior knowledge and wisdom my younger colleagues didn't posses. Camp food is bad food. But last summer as a sat with a steaming pile of less than desirable beef stew I realized something. The vegetarians at camp were ushered up to the counter to retreat warm veggie burgers with hummus and buckwheat salad. I knew declaring vegetarian at the beginning of the summer was the key to camp survival. Now, initially I thought I could simply eat vegetarian when options were available and return to beloved chicken on nights off and weekends at home. I soon found out there was no turning back. The camp vegetarians were ruthless and I could show no sign of weakness. If they suspected anyone was committing vegetarian fraud solely to reap the benefits of their delightful fare they would regurgitate their usual reprimanding. "There isn't a lot for us to eat here so not everyone can have our meals. Maybe you can come back after we have all had food." I saw them sniff out too many of my false veg accomplices to falter now. I had to commit to eating no meat for the entire summer.

The first weeks were difficult, the third week was unbearable, but by the fourth week my cravings had subsided. By the time I returned home from my summer I had cut out meat from my life and was not awaiting its return. I now feel less tired after meals and my skin and hair are feeling the affects of being an herbivore. I am loving my new vegetarian lifestyle and I am so glad the cut throat vegetarians at Camp Foss forced me into a lifestyle I had wanted to for years.

Luke Bryan -Tailgates and Tan lines

The album "Tailgates and Tan Line" by Luke Bryan was a monumental fusion of classic country to the new pop sound the market demands. In the singers third album, he found an ideal balance between a new age high energy sound and the sing songy and romantic qualities of country music. The album's opener "Country Girl," sets the tone for the album with an infectious dance beat while still keeping poetic lyrics. Lyrics such as "Spin me around this big ole barn, tangle me up like grandma's yarn" are matched with an up tempo beat for a match made in heaven. The fifth track on the album "I Don't Want  This Night to End" keeps a classic country theme of pursuing a girl while also getting stuck in the heads of pop music fans. The album makes Luke Bryan a pioneer in country music as he takes the leap into pop music and leaves in peers in the dust.