Lifestyle, Personal, Uncategorized

Tested, Tried, and True College Packing Tips

For many of my college-aged peers, the countdown to college move-in begins in early August – as does the impending mania of loading every essential item you own into your parent’s car and moving into a tiny suite all in one day. Whether you’re eager and excited or dreading the first day of school, packing for school is pretty much a universally stressful process. As I enter my sophomore year of school, here are some tips and tricks that I’ve acquired that may make the process go a little smoother for you and your family!

Make an itemized list of what you want to bring ahead of time.

This is especially helpful for clothing – I, like many young women, have approximately seven billion articles of clothing, only about ten of which I wear on rotation in my daily life. If you wait until the last minute to mentally pack your clothing, you may find yourself digging to the back of your closet and rediscovering the thrifted pink sweater you’ve only worn once, subsequently becoming convinced that you just HAVE to bring it to school, despite the fact that you hate the color pink and find sweaters unflattering. STOP IT. You’re just being silly.

I’ve had a Google Doc open on my computer for the last few weeks so that I have the mental clarity to add an item that I know I’ll need/wear as it pops into my head. Overpacking is the bane of my existence, so I tend to just stick to the basics.

If you’re a returning student, don’t unpack when you come home for the summer.

This obviously may require hindsight for a lot of us, but when I came home from school in May, I simply washed my bedding, towels, and curtains and put them right back in their plastic trunks. It’s awesome knowing that, while I’m stressing about silly things like which of my scented candles to bring, that’s one less thing to worry about.


If possible, plan your visits home with enough time to exchange weather-appropriate clothing.

I always think ahead – it may be sweltering flip-flop weather in Connecticut at the end of August, but in a month or so, it could very well be boots and scarves weather. To save yourself the hassle of bringing clothing for all four seasons, either time a visit home to allow yourself to exchange sandals for cold weather gear. If not, you can always have your parents FedEx your winter coat in case of an uncharacteristically chilly fall.

Print/develop photos of friends!

At the end of every summer for the past few years, my mom has always encouraged me to go online and send a collection of my favorite pictures of memories and friends from the past year to be printed at CVS or Target. Additionally, any store currently selling dorm room supplies will usually carry twine and clothespins or some other trendy method for displaying your photos – I’ve seen them at Target and Five Below. If you find yourself homesick like me, seeing your dorm room literally wallpapered with physical copies of your best memories may comfort you.

Go on and be successful during your first semester! ¬†ūüôā



It’s O.K. to Be “Unfocused” – And Other Merits of Not Having A Summer Internship

As I enter my sophomore year of college, I find myself perplexed and overwhelmed by how many of peers tout their impressive summer internships. In fact, as I sat down to write this and mindlessly scrolled through Facebook, a friend of mine boasted a promotion at their summer job. A finance major interning at a bank, an advertising major working under an ad exec – on the surface, it’s easy to feel jealousy and inadequacy. But I know the truth – I’m spending my summer doing what makes me happy.

All throughout my freshman year, I had trouble with what some might call “truly immersing” myself in the college experience. I eagerly looked forward to going home and enjoying four months of summer to focus on recharging for the next school year.

I’m a Political Science major with a Communication Studies minor. And what did I do this summer? I directed a musical, hung out with friends, planned a family vacation, and worked as a waitress. What will this do to contribute to my future career? Virtually nothing. What has this done to contribute to my overall happiness? Practically everything.

I’m a young adult, and so are my peers. We have the rest of our lives to enter whichever rat race we choose, which will likely leave us minimal time outside of career and family to legitimately pursue individual hobbies and interests. So why not take our youth as a time to be a little selfish?

A core value of the liberal arts education I treasure so dearly is a circular education – an emphasis on renaissance and diversity of academic pursuits. This should not and cannot be limited solely to our time within the classroom.

This summer, I devoted myself wholeheartedly to the performing arts, an important facet of who I am that I had, admittedly, lost while I was at school. I may not have gained LinkedIn connections or experience in my field, but I gained confidence, communication skills, critical thinking, and much much more.

This isn’t to say that you should give up on your studies as soon as you hand in your last final. In fact, quite the opposite. A sense of responsibility and productivity for your future, your education, and your finances is crucial – but all of that is meaningless if you’re unhappy underneath it all.

Okay. So what am I trying to get at here?

Resist the fight-or-flight response ingrained in most college students by countless instances of

“So what are you doing with your summer?”

It’s okay to have an answer that will make your parents and your academic advisor proud. It’s okay to have an answer that will garner you strange looks and judgement but still make you feel warm and fuzzy inside.¬†It’s okay not to have an answer at all!

Take this time away from campus as a fresh perspective on what you’re doing, why you’re doing it, and if it’s positively contributing to you as a whole person.¬†Maybe someday I’ll have the internship of my dreams that will open up a world of opportunities post-grad. But also maybe not. I do know, however, that there are no experiences that I will give myself that will close doors – only open them.


My Nineteenth Year

Recently, I turned eighteen (thus, entering my nineteenth year) shortly before the Common Era of our Gregorian Calendar entered its 2,017th year. I’ve always been a huge supporter of New Year’s resolutions, but really just any resolutions in general – there is no bad time to try and improve yourself. Year after year, my resolutions have been mostly physical or superficial – eat healthy, exercise, get straight A’s, etcetera. However, this year was different.

I’m entering my first year of full-fledged legal adulthood in perhaps one of the most tumultuous times in American history. Not only can I start contributing to society as an adult, but I will start feeling the repercussions of my society as an adult. So, I figured that my New Year’s resolutions deserved to be more thoughtful and purposeful than ever before.

In 2017, I will read more for pleasure. 

When I was young, I was a huge reader; I could effortlessly get lost in a novel and finish it in one afternoon. Over the years, I’ve gotten a little lazy and started choosing Netflix over my own intellect. I’ve decided to forgo my usual habit of watching an episode of the X-Files in bed to lull me to sleep every night in favor of one chapter of a book before bed every night. My Amazon wishlist will remain full of a constantly rotating cast of whichever bestseller I set my sights on next.

In 2017, I will cook more. 

Having only completed one semester of college so far, I can attest to how monotonous and potentially unhealthy a constant schedule of dining hall-eating can be. And although I am proud to say that I didn’t fall victim to the Freshman Fifteen, I definitely could have been better about consciously choosing what food goes into my body. I genuinely enjoy cooking, and over time some friends and I have enjoyed a few nights of homemade meals and good conversation. This year, I plan on meal prepping and making a habit of packing my homemade lunches on the go.

In 2017, I will love without expectations.

This goes for both myself and others! Conditional love isn’t love at all – it is the root of resentment, hurt feelings, and judgement. By practicing understanding and compassion with my friends, loved ones, and even strangers, I will be opening myself up to the endless possibilities of human experiences. By practicing understanding and compassion with myself, I’ll finally be able to take a break from being so hard on myself (as I usually am;) I need to get better at remembering that it’s okay if I don’t feel my best or most confident 100% of the time – nobody does.¬†

In 2017, I will save more.

Now that I have a part-time job, working 20 hours a week, I have a lot of financial mobility. With very limited opportunities to spend money (on anything other than food) while on campus, 2017 will be a great opportunity for me to beef up my savings account and invest in my future.

In 2017, I will be more mindful.

My anxiety gets the best of me in overthinking plans that are weeks or months in the future. Travel plans, exams, scheduling conflicts, and even mundane commitments – I can’t help but think through every possible worst-case scenario until I drive myself mad with worry. This year, I will practice a c’est la vie mentality liberally until it becomes second nature.

New Year’s Resolutions only take hold if you’re constantly evaluating yourself and taking stock of the effectiveness of your goals. Always keep what you’re working toward in sight. I know I’m working toward growing and maturing as a person, no matter how difficult it may be. How about you?

Activism, Politics

Food for Thought – Dietary Privilege



Photo taken from my Instagram.

Please forgive the inevitable rambly-ness of this post – this has been on my mind for a while and I’ll try my best to try and verbalize everything I’m thinking about this issue.

The USDA defines a food desert as a low-income part of the country where healthy and fresh foods are either scarce or expensive. It should come as no surprise that the low-income neighborhood of Philadelphia in which my university is located falls under this category.

I live one block away from a grocery store chain (this in itself is a miracle –¬†large grocery store chains usually see food deserts as a lost cause,)¬†and food shopping has been one of the rudest awakenings I’ve experienced in my transition to college living. I value my healthy lifestyle, and I love cooking for myself and eating fresh. However, I’ve found that the price of fresh produce and other healthy favorites¬†can be up to double or triple the cost they were at my local grocery store at home in Connecticut. This was annoying at first, but it wasn’t until I took a step back and took a look at the community as a whole to see how the issue of food scarcity affected us on a larger scale.

Finding yourself in new surroundings can be so eye-opening. Never before in my life have I considered myself lucky for being able to pay for my groceries with my debit card instead of food stamps. However, this is the reality for many of my neighbors. This also speaks a lot to the quality of the food that is consumed in low-income areas; when Hostess products are more readily available than fruits and vegetables, eating healthy seems like an unattainable chore. It’s no wonder obesity and other health issues are so often linked with poverty. In such a health-conscious world and society, it’s almost as if we are guaranteeing a better quality of life through food – but only to those who can afford it.¬†This system is classist at best and racist at worst.

I’ve also done some thinking¬†and seen how my privilege as a middle-class white person translates to what I eat. I am a vegetarian and I try to eat organic; needless to say, I am in the minority in my community.¬†At times, I feel guilty for being able to be selective with what I eat. I have no right to complain about the convenience or cost of something as essential as my food, especially when there are people who are grateful that there are places to buy food within¬†walking distance. A struggling parent from a single-income household can’t afford to¬†worry about the greater ethical and environmental impacts of the food they feed their children, nor can the homeless man I pass outside of the 7-11 on my block every morning.

So how do I not let the guilt get to me? Obviously I’m nowhere near qualified to speak on how to make even the smallest of dents in inequality. But if I know one thing, it’s that acknowledging your own privilege is always a place to start. If you’re somebody who has been lucky enough to be selective in your diet – or even make the conscious choice to eat healthy, for that matter – just know that you are among the lucky few.

This is also an issue on which liberal elitism comes in to play. For most Americans who fall within the middle class and above, it can be hard to wrap your head around or even acknowledge the notion that you are more privileged than others. So, I recommend this to you:

Don’t complain – be compassionate.

Activism, Politics

Hold Me Accountable

People of the internet, this is an open letter to you. Today, I ask you to hold me accountable.

Hold me accountable for the respect and love that I always preach so vehemently. I will continue to honor the electoral system that allows for the peaceful transfer of power. I will accept this bump in the road and remember that there is always tomorrow. I will remember that there is so much more to our everyday lives than the politics of our nation, and I will remember that unconditional love for my peers and fellow Americans can only enrich my experiences.

Hold me accountable for those who have been silenced by the actions of the American people. Too many of my loved ones will have to live in fear and shame until the clouds part. Too many people I don’t even know will have their lives forever altered by the hateful words of others. Too many people will be afraid to worship with families for fear of persecution; too many people will lose their faith altogether.

Hold me accountable for the fire that has been lit beneath me. I refuse to sit idly by and watch the America that I cherish so dearly become a laughingstock. I refuse to let fear be the only catalyst for change in the greatest nation¬†in the world. I refuse to have another election where millions of voters are coerced into choosing “the lesser of two evils.” I refuse to allow the definition of democracy to be changed at its very core.

But, most importantly, hold me accountable for the power that I still have. When I am given new educational opportunities, I will accept them with open arms and open mind. When I graduate college, I will not let that be the end of my education as I know it. When I decide what I want to do with the rest of my life, I know it will be for the betterment of the lives of the American people.

In a time of so much fear and uncertainty, one thing is crystal clear to me now: my future is in public policy and servitude. My hope is that the glass ceiling will be shattered long before I even come close to approaching it. My purpose is now to fight for a better future for EVERYONE, but especially those who have been made to feel that they have already lost the fight. I won’t rest until things are better.

So, hold me accountable.


Always Look Ahead

In the words of Ferris Bueller, “Life moves pretty fast.” I often wish I could be as fearless as Ferris, but my own anxiety usually relegates me to my role as Cameron.

At this very moment six months ago, I was a high school senior, staring at my ceiling, trying to fall asleep, my mind reeling with college decision letters from the highs of acceptances to the lows of rejections.

At this very moment one month ago, I was a college freshman, staring at my ceiling, trying to fall asleep, probably crying after a long and blubbery phone call with my mother, wondering why I didn’t have friends yet (among infinite other college-related insecurities.)

At this very moment, however, I am a college freshman, staring at my laptop, struck with a wave of creativity, feeling productive and caffeinated and excited for what’s to come.

The anxiety and fear I felt one month ago was foreign to me – I had been on a delusional high for the last four years of my life. I had a beautiful, close-knit, and supportive network of female friendships. I was in the beginning stages of what was (and currently is) my first ever loving relationship that made me feel beautiful from the inside out. I sought and gained personal, academic, and extracurricular success in high school. Frankly, I was the center of attention in every aspect of my own life. And it made me feel like hot shit (in the good way.)

But now, five hours away from home and seemingly lost in a sea of 37,000 students with varying degrees of like-mindedness, I felt that I had lost myself. I was no longer the natural-born leader who never failed to make a crowd laugh. I had gone from a big fish in a small sea to a baby gosling floating in the BP oil spill.

The only way to describe my outlook on life one month ago was “unfair.” Why did I have to put so much effort into the things that once came naturally to me? Why were people no longer drawn to the personality that I had finally felt so comfortable in? However, my biggest mistake was wondering why I was the only one feeling this way.

Little did I know that my peers and friends all around the country were struggling with the exact same doubts and fears, however they had manifested themselves. I look back at my sadness and frustration and consider it a blessing – I had a life at home that was worth missing.¬†For the minority of my peers who were having the time of their lives in college, it was most likely because they had a less than stellar high school experience and couldn’t wait to move out and move on. (These were the same kids who needed alcohol and drugs to have a good time, when I’d rather use pizza and good company.)

Visiting home for the first time since moving into school was difficult. The time I had with my loved ones was precious and fleeting, and going back to my new and awkward life in Philadelphia after peering back into the snowglobe of a happier time for just one weekend felt like torture. But it kicked me into gear and recharged me in order to realize that I had a life worth living both at school and at home.

The best decision I made during my difficult transition into independent adulthood was to focus on myself. This wasn’t a huge leap for an admittedly solipsistic extrovert like myself, but it was reassuring knowing that in a time of such uncertainty, I could use my newfound independence to better myself as a person.

I had experienced at least two panic attacks since school had started, so it was safe to say that my physical AND mental health needed some TLC. I started being stricter and more health-conscious when it came to my dining-hall-dependent diet. I read good books, watched good movies, and listened to good music in my down time. I spent time every day being active in body and mind, from weightlifting to running to yoga. I focused on comfort and confidence in my everyday appearance. And, sooner or later, the rest just fell into place.

I now have a part-time job at the world’s cutest Vietnamese pho¬†cafe, exposing myself to good food and new cultures while making money¬†at the same time. I have a small group of friends with whom I connect and trust more than I ever thought possible at the beginning of the school year, when my number one fear was eating every meal alone. I find myself easily and casually connecting with acquaintances in my classes and clubs. I even reignited one of my dearest passions from high school, Model United Nations (sorry for the implicit nerdiness,) and have gained a leadership position as the chair of a committee for our upcoming¬†conference.

I eagerly look forward to the coming weeks, when I will be visited by family, immersing myself into my hobbies, on adventures with friends, and growing as a person. This isn’t to say that I’m not homesick at all anymore – I still talk to my friends, family, and boyfriend every day and am counting down the days till I come home for fall break. But, if I could give one piece of advice to incoming college freshman (or really anyone going through an equally monumental change in their life) it’s that setting goals and planning milestones to look forward to does make it easier. And trust me, it does get easier.