Monthly Archives: December 2013

A letter to 2013

Happy New Year’s Eve!

2013 will be over soon and 2014 is anxiously awaiting its grand entrance at precisely midnight tonight.

This year taught me a lot about myself and the people around me, and I am very happy to say that I have growth in a year’s time.

No one knows what 2014 will hold, but before we let go of 2013, I’d like to say a few things to it.

Dear 2013,

Thanks for an interesting year that was filled with health, happiness and plenty of margaritas.

But more importantly than all of that, thanks for bringing me knowledge, opportunity and wisdom. I faced problems this year that challenged my family, my friends and myself, but in the best way, because we all grew and learned. You brought new people into my life who I never want to see go and you removed some people who had overstayed their welcome. You taught me a lot about myself–who I am as a person, my flaws, my strengths, what I like, what I don’t lie, that I don’t have everything figured out and that it’s okay not to. You showed me that the world is very big and I am very small, and that I should never forget that.

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Opinion: Reggae/Ska Concert

Last night, I popped my reggae/ska-concert cherry!

I saw Passafire and Slightly Stoopid, and it was an amazingggg experience.

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As someone who had been going to only rock/punk/screamo(embarrassing) shows between the ages of 13-18, I was very shocked, refreshed and pleased by the major differences between reggae/ska and rock shows that I spotted.

Here is the opinion of a former scene kid on a completely new genre.

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How I Became a Cat Lady

Three years ago, if you would have asked me if I could ever see myself owning a cat as a pet, I would have said hell no. That’s because I only knew dogs. Ever since I was born, my family has always had dogs as pets.

I never used to like cats. To me, cats were these ugly, anti-social creatures with big eyes that hissed, clawed and could attack your ankles at any second. I did a good job of avoiding them. Dogs, on the other hand, were these lovable balls of fur that I baby-talked like there was no tomorrow.

Everything I thought I knew about myself and my pet preference changed last fall.

My roommate and I had just moved into a tiny apartment, and with our very opposite schedules, we hardly ever saw each other. The emptiness of the apartment quickly made the pet-shaped holes in our hearts grow bigger. We missed having an animal around–for me, my dog; for her, her cat.

Getting a pet was the only option! We threw some ideas around–fish, hamster, lizard–but we couldn’t agree on one. Finally, she suggested we get a cat. I was very apprehensive at first. What fun would this animal be for me? Cats are mean and boring, I thought.

But somehow, on a cold October night, I found myself in the parking lot of a Target to meet up with a family that had posted an ad online looking for a new owner for their 1-year-old cat, Mr. Fluffballs. Background: the family was moving to a place that didn’t allow cats. 

My roommate fell in love with him fast, as she held his soft grey and black body in her arms, cooing to him. Now it was I who needed convincing.

And to this day, I still don’t know why I said yes. There was nothing overwhelmingly adorable about this cat. His little face did not turn my heart into syrup. His eyes did not speak to me in a sweet little voice. He was just a cat that looked frightened to be outside and in the arms of a stranger.

I really don’t know what made me agree to take that cat home that night. But something did, and, as cheesy as it sounds, I’m glad I did. Because my cat, who we renamed Kevin, has changed my life.


He has taught me that it’s okay to just sit and watch the world from a high window, and that it’s okay to sleep in sometimes. He is my son and, as much as I always told myself I didn’t want to have kids, I am his mom.

And the best part? He breaks every cat stereotype I had. He is social, he never bites or scratches us, and the only noise he makes is a kitten-like meow. Nothing is cuter than him. Period.

At least in my eyes.


Just Do It

Up until I started (sort of) working out, I never really got the Nike slogan.

Just Do It.


I used to think that Nike was pressuring its customers into buying its athlete-geared products by beating around the whole “here are the reasons why you should purchase our sneakers today” act, and getting straight to the point– just do it.

Well, once I started forcing myself to work out– something that I really hate(d) because my idea of being active is parking my car really far away from the mall entrance– I started understanding this slogan more.

I think most people can agree that getting through a tough set of exercises isn’t always fun, but we need to push ourselves to get results we want–push ourselves to do what? Push ourselves to just do it. Because once we just do it, we can feel good about ourselves.

This slogan, I feel, applies in all aspects of life. Those three words force us to take the plunge, go a little longer and to take that first step.

By simply telling yourself to just do it, whatever that task may be, you cut out all other options except the one you are trying to get through. Whether it be exercising, taking the dog for a walk, studying for an exam or trying something new, it all starts by just doing it.

Normally I’m a little shy about my writing, but giving the career path I have chosen, I cannot be afraid to publicize myself. Although I knew this already, I kept telling myself that I would start seriously blogging…eventually. But then I remembered Nike’s slogan.

And I just did it.

Welcome to my new blog. I hope you’ll stay a while.