Three Weeks.

As you can tell I haven't written anything in awhile. And to be honest, lately I haven't had the inspiration to do much of anything, let alone write a blog post. But tonight I'm in that weird state of being tired, but not quite ready to sleep. So I will write, even if I make no sense. I will write.

I think one of the reasons why I've been so uninspired lately is because I'm burnt out. On school, on classes, on the same thing every day. I'm stressed and I'm tired and I'm just so ready for it all to be over. More and more I find myself wishing for summer, or at least the end of the school year. Just so I can stop the stressing and let my mind wander a little. I need that freedom, but lately I haven't been able to find it as much. The weather's been getting warmer and that's helped. Being able to stand outside for more than ten minutes, the grass underneath my bare feet, the sun in the trees. But even when I'm not at school I'm thinking about it, about all the things I still need to accomplish before the semester ends. As of right now I have three weeks left, but it feels like much too much time. I'm just so tired, but I'll get there. There is a light at the end of this tunnel. And hopefully once I'm there I'll be inspired again, or I'll have the time and the room in my brain to be inspired again. It's one of my favorite things to be; inspired. It's like exercise for my mind.

Despite my lack of inspiration lately I have been enjoying the weather and all it brings along with it. For the past few years it has seemed as if spring has lasted about a week and then we've gone straight into summer, but I'm hoping this year spring will stay a little longer. I like the cool breezes it brings along with it, and the rain. It's raining right now and it sounds wonderful outside my open window. That's the other part of spring I love, open windows. Once summer rolls around it gets so hot we have to close them and turn on the AC, but in spring we leave them open all day and all night. And every year the same wonderful smell wafts into my room and reminds me of books I've read in springs past. Does that ever happen to you? You smell a certain scent and it takes you back to the book you were reading at the time you smelled it. I have so many scents like that, but the smell of spring coming through my windows is one of my very favorites. I can't even remember the book that the smell reminds me of anymore, I just know that it was a good one because every time I smell it I can't help but be happy. If I could bottle that smell and carry it with me I would.

Anyway, I thought since I was taking the time to write this odd little post I'd leave you with a few photos from last month when my dearest friend, Madeline, and I decided to go on a hike through Castlewood State Park. It was a beautiful day, back when beautiful days were still few and far between. I'm hoping for more beautiful days to come.

First we walked above the river on the bluffs.

Then we made our way down the hill to walk along the river.

Note to self: Never wear your Keds when walking long distances ever again. They may look cool, but they hurt like hell.

The sky was lovely this day.

Lots of fallen trees to climb.

I was amazed with this tree. Hollow all the way up!

And big enough to climb inside!

This is an inside view. So cool.

And one more shot of the river with this tree hanging on for dear life.

All in all, a lovely day.

Love & Chaos,

Sam

Happy Birthday, Sarah!

HAPPY 21st BIRTHDAY, SARAH!!

Since it's your birthday and I've never written much about you on here, I thought I'd dedicate this post to you. Hope you enjoy. :)

 

So way back in freshman year I was just a terrified little introvert who was afraid that she wouldn't make a single friend. I was nervous and awkward and I wasn't very good at meeting new people. Then you came along. I saw that you were in a couple of my classes and you seemed like a nice person, so I made a habit of sitting next to you in class. I'm really glad I did that. After we started talking it became clear that we were quite similar. We were both English majors, we both loved books and poetry, and we were both quirky and loved comedy and The Wedding Singer and got really excited about little things. I'm pretty sure this was the first picture we took together as new little freshie friends at the school carnival. College would have been a lot scarier if we hadn't met. Good thing we did. Who knew that ice cream social thing would actually make us, you know, be social. 

After the ice cream social that pretty much sealed the deal on this friendship. We had classes together, we ate lunch together, and we sat under trees together because we love them so much. We talked about school and quoted comedians and figured out our way into Webster life. Out of hundreds of other students I somehow managed to find the person I needed to get me through all the changes that were happening in my life. Also, you got us these cool matching sunglasses with a lovely floral print. We do love our floral prints. 

Since then we've made so many great memories. We've gone to the zoo together. We've gotten lost on our way to the Science Center. We've met famous people and had photo shoots. We've gone to The Book House (may it rest in peace) and watched countless movies. We also enjoy free cupcakes together. Gotta have that Red Velvet goodness.

All of the friendships I've made at Webster have been because of you. You introduced me to people and helped me to be myself around people I didn't really know that well. Thanks for that.

You introduced me to this guy. ^ He's pretty cool I guess. And Damion too, but I didn't have a picture of him.

 

You pretend to be a pimp with me. And when we pimp, we'z be pimpin'. Just look at those pimp cups.

We've had so many laughs together and so many adventures. Honestly, I think our conversations should be quoted. We always end up talking about the best, most interesting stuff, the stuff that matters, and as an introvert I love that. There's never any small talk when we're together. It's the best.

You sit under trees and appreciate them with me. Treehuggers 4 Life. You're a liberal, vegetarian, feminist and you don't even know how freaking awesome that is. You have opened my eyes to so many things and I couldn't be more grateful for it all. It will forever be my mission to make you watch more old movies. :) I'm making a list.

You don't enjoy the rain like I do, but lucky for you I have a very large umbrella that looks like a bubble. You listen to me rant about my awkwardness and that boy with hair like Harry Styles who always catches me doing the most embarrassing things. You listen to Dane Cook and Daniel Tosh with me and we always laugh, even when we shouldn't. We're so similar and yet so different and it's awesome.

Also we meet famous people together. And that's pretty freaking cool.

You got us tickets to see Bill Burr and then forced me to be brave and get a picture with him. It was epic.

Then you came to see New Politics with me and we got to meet 2/3 of the band! WHICH WAS AMAZING! Thanks for knowing who they were in the first place. Best. Concert. Ever. Glad I got to see them with you and stare angrily at the tall people in front of us. (Also your mom drove us and let us hide out from the cold in her car until it was time to go in, which was great.)

We take pretty great awkward selfies together. Still rockin' that concert buzz. Aww yeah. And also you appreciate The Fault in Our Stars and John Green and Augustus Waters just as much as I do. Can't wait to be at the theater opening night! 

Basically you're the best college best friend anyone could ask for. If I hadn't met you back in freshman year I'm not sure where I'd be. Thanks for all that you've done and for listening to me complain, or talk about silly things. And know that I'm always here to listen to whatever you need me to. Thanks for being the one person on campus that I know I can always call on to be there and to support me in and out of class. Even when my paper sucks you still always find something nice to say about it. Thanks for helping me not be alone when I was terrified I would be. Thanks for having great conversations with me about anything and everything and for never making me eat lunch alone. You could never know just how grateful I am that we met all those (three) years ago, and I know we'll know each other long after college is over. Can't wait for even more memories to be made, and now that you're 21 along with me the possibilities are endless! Happy Birthday, Sarah! I'm so glad I met you!

<3 Sam

Those Awkward Moments

Now I know that the whole trend of "that awkward moment" posts may be over, but if you know me then you know just how awkward I am. 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. All awkward, all the time. What a life I lead. Anyway, I've been thinking about doing this for a long time, so why not now. I tell these things to my family and friends and they laugh, so I figured why not tell them to you too. Maybe you'll get a chuckle out of them. And since there are lots of other awkward people out there with plenty of their own awkward moments, I figure we can bond over our awkwardness. So here are a few awkward moments that may or may not have happened to me. You'll never know. Enjoy.

That awkward moment when you're driving through campus and you spot that guy you've been crushing on, so you stare at him as you drive past and right at that moment he decides to look over at your car and catch you staring. He totally thinks you're a stalker now, BUT YOU'RE NOT. YOU PROMISE.

That awkward moment when your walking down a flight of stairs and your friend informs you that your crush is walking past, so you quickly look up to find him, but your shoe gets caught and almost comes off making you kind of stumble your way down. Then you make some strange giggle/laugh noise and it's a lot louder than you wanted it to be, so he looks back to see what animal is dying and catches you staring at him. AGAIN.

That awkward moment when you're sitting in class and your stomach decides to make some sort of demon noise that sounds closer to a fart than a stomach growl. And all you want to do is shout IT WAS MY STOMACH. I DIDN'T FART. I SWEAR. But instead you just pray that no one heard it, or that everyone saw you put your hand to your stomach indicating that it was indeed a growl.

That awkward moment when you fall UP the stairs. It's a special skill.

That awkward moment when you're not sure if someone is trying to hug you or shake your hand. Those never end well.

That awkward moment when your cousin makes you buy cigars for him because he lost his license, but when you go to show the cashier guy your own license your hands shake so bad that you KNOW he thinks it must be fake. BUT IT'S NOT, YOU SWEAR. You just have hands that shake like a tiny chihuahua when you're nervous. God forbid you having to buy your own alcohol, which will eventually happen since you are in fact 21 now. Something you seem to keep forgetting.

That awkward moment in fourth grade when you somehow ended up with rug burn on your forehead after trying to show your friend some trick you thought you could do. And then for the rest of the year your teacher called you "Crash" and pointed at you when the song "Unwell" by Matchbox Twenty came on the radio. (All of which you secretly enjoyed. The song and the nickname, not the rug burn or the scab that came after). You're not crazy, you're just a little unwell.

That awkward moment when you go to take a drink from your straw, but instead of going in your mouth, the straw almost goes up your nose or pokes you in the face.

That awkward moment when you're blowing your nose in the computer lab and right at the very moment the tissue touches your nose the guy with the amazing hair walks by, stops in the doorway, then looks right at you and catches you and your nasal problems before causally walking away. You, in turn, practically die of shame before recovering yourself and telling your friend the whole story.

That awkward moment when you're in a public place where people are dancing and mingling, but you're just standing in the corner staring at your not-smart phone, pretending to text someone who you might be meeting there. But of course you're not texting or meeting anyone. But oh how you wish you were. This one is just sad.

That awkward moment when you walk up to your cousin's house to see if they're home, but when you peer in the window like a creeper it isn't one of your cousins staring back at you. It's your cousin's new girlfriend sitting at the kitchen table eating a bowl of cereal and wondering who the hell is creeping around outside. She waves, you sort of wave then run away. It is the start of a beautiful friendship.

That awkward moment when you actually got sick from being so nervous about meeting a guy for the first time and had to postpone said meeting. Oh you.

That awkward moment when you're caught talking to yourself, the television, the computer, a book, or really any other inanimate object multiple times a day. You swear it's normal, or at least you hope it is.


Hope you all enjoyed these awkward moments. I figure since more are bound to happen that I'll do another post like this at some point. The possibilities are terrifyingly endless when it comes to my awkwardness.

Love & (Awkward) Chaos,
Sam

One Year Blogiversary!

HAPPY BLOGIVERSARY! 

Yesterday marks one year since the day I started this blog and what a year it has been! There were plenty of ups and down, but through it all this little corner of the web has been a place where I can just talk about whatever the heck is on my mind and I am always grateful for that. To anyone who has read even one of my posts this past year I want to thank you. When I started I didn't think anyone would even see this, and I thought maybe that was a good thing, but the fact that anyone at all is reading something that I wrote makes me feel really lucky. So thank you, whoever you are, for sticking with me this past year. And here's to many more years of blogging to come! <3

Love & Chaos, 

Sam

The What Ifs

Lately I've been having a lot of what-if moments. Not about the past, but about the future, and mostly about what's going to happen after college. What if I never become a published writer? What if I'm no good? What if I've made a mistake by banking my entire future on a career that has no guarantees? Now that I'm in my junior year at university these things have started weighing on my mind a lot more. I wonder if maybe I made a gigantic mistake and it scares me. Sometimes I'll just be doing something normal, like looking into the fridge, and it'll hit me. "Well crap. What the hell have I done? I've put all my eggs in one basket. I've let my dreams mask reality. What am I going to do if this doesn't work out?" It's a terrifying thought. Failure. Wanting something so much and then realizing that you're not good enough. I'm still not sure that I am.

I think anyone who goes into the creative arts understands this feeling. That maybe you won't make it happen. Maybe this dream is just one that you'll never see come true. Of course no one wants to believe that, especially me. I want my dreams to come true. I want all of our dreams to come true. But some dreams require more work than others, and my dream is no exception. It requires everything. It asks and I'm trying to give, but maybe what I'm giving just isn't enough. It's these kinds of doubts that plague me.

But these doubts aren't for lack of a support system. I have the best support system possible. I have people who believe in me. People who care about my dreams and seeing them fulfilled. They're just another reason why I don't want to fail. I don't want to let them down. I don't want to let myself down. I want to succeed for all of us. But even their belief in me isn't quite enough to squash my fears. After all, their opinions can be biased, but I love them for it. I hope they know that. Their support keeps me going. Keeps me writing. They inspire me. 

Most of the time I can push these fears away, store them somewhere in the back of my mind and try to forget about them. But they have a habit of popping up whenever they want. Thinking about the future scares me. Thinking about other people who are younger and already more successful scares me. Leaving college scares the crap out of me. I'm sure it's this way for a lot of people, both in and out of the creative arts. But when I think about trying to find a back up, something else to fall back on, I hesitate. Because I don't want to fall back on anything. I don't want to fail or say I tried and then give up. I don't want to do anything else. I want to write. That's just the simple truth. Regardless of the fears, regardless of the doubt, regardless of everything inside me that's terrified of failing. I just want to write. I want people to read what I write and feel something. I want them to connect, to smile and laugh and cry. To listen and understand. That's all I've ever wanted.

From the moment I started writing seriously, I never once looked back. I had written all my life, but once I realized that I had it inside myself to create something, to create my own worlds, I was hooked. I've been writing ever since. It's the reason I started this blog in the first place. To write more. To share things. To connect. It's been a good outlet for me, one I will continue to use. But it still doesn't feel like enough. 

I know I'm only twenty-one. I still have time, room for improvement and growth. There will always be room for that. I know this. I am trying to remember this. Yet I still feel as if what I want I may never have. Maybe it's the perfectionist in me, or the introvert in me, or just the "me" in me, that feels like nothing is ever really finished. Nothing is ever really the way I want it to be. Nothing is ever good enough to share with other people. It's strange really, that I'm able to share my thoughts and feelings with you all here on this blog, but yet it is my made-up worlds, my made-up people, that I'm terrified of sharing. Maybe that's how all creatives feel, I don't know, but it's how I feel. It's as if the fiction I write about imaginary people reveals more about me than the deepest possible blog post or non-fiction I could muster. And I guess that scares me. Because even if fiction can be called a lie, it's also the complete and total truth. About life, about love, about the person writing it. On this blog I always do my very best to tell you the truth, but my fiction tells the truth in a different way. A way that I don't even really understand yet, and I guess that's sort of terrifying. To share my fictions would be to lay myself bare, to allow someone else to enter my secret world, and maybe I'm just not quite there yet. Because what if no one likes it? What if no one likes my imaginary world and my imaginary people? It's personal for me, maybe it shouldn't be, but it is. I love my imaginary people, I love them as if they were real, as if they were family. They don't just live on the page, they live inside my brain and I live in theirs. It's a rare kind of feeling, but a feeling that I love. Even if sometimes I feel a bit crazy. 

But to be a true writer is to share, right? To connect is to take a risk. Love and writing, I think, are very similar in this way; at least for me. Both require effort sometimes, both require risk, both require vulnerability. Both ask for a lot, but also give a lot when it's good. Both can be incredibly beautiful and both can break your heart. Sometimes it works out and sometimes it doesn't, but the experiences stay with you. Both can teach you things you never knew about yourself. And about life and the world. I like this about writing and about love. It's all in the risks. In the falling, in the getting back up and trying again. If you don't at least have a little faith in what you're doing then no one else will either. Even when the fears plague you, even when the doubts get in your way, you have to believe in what you're doing. In both love and writing. You have to believe that you're doing the right thing and for the right reasons. You have to believe in the path that you've chosen, and if you don't, then choose a different path. It's as simple, and as difficult, as that. I'm trying to believe in this path I've chosen. Despite it's pitfalls, despite how scary it may be. It's the only path I can see right now. And at this point in my life, it's the only path I want.

I write because I have to. Because I'd go crazy if I didn't. Because when I write I get to be someone other than myself. I get to go to places that don't even exist. When I write I feel myself coming to life. All the insecurities and fears fall away and I just get to be in the moment. I think Joss Whedon summed it up pretty well when he said this. "I write to give myself strength. I write to be the characters that I am not. I write to explore all the things I'm afraid of."

I fell in love with writing a long time ago. I don't plan on leaving it anytime soon. As for the rest of it, we'll see. I'm just going to keep on writing. Because really, that's all I can do.

Love & Chaos,
Sam

P.S. Here's a great video by ZeFrank all about his thoughts on the Creative Career. I think he makes some great points and has some awesome insights. I watch it whenever I'm feeling the doubts creep in. Hope it can help some of you too if you're thinking of doing something creative, or if you already are.