Semester Round-Up

Here we are. It’s been a while. Five months, actually. I kept thinking to myself, My life is going really well. Stuff is happening. I should write about it (my thoughts are not particularly articulate). It is hard for me to sit down to write unless I feel like I have a couple really solid lines to base the post around. While my life was going really well and interesting things were happening, it just wasn’t funny.

Hoo boy.

I (stupidly) asked life to give me humor and was overwhelmed by just how funny it could get. Here’s what went down over the last semester.

I was transferred from the behavioral psych lab to the neuroscience lab. It has been a dream of mine to work in a neuroscience lab since high school– I acknowledge that this is really weird. I loved working in the lab except when I actually had to do it. I loved talking about it. For some reason, telling people you are a  neuroscience research assistant makes them think you are really smart. I always imagined it being a great party story– it is not. My job mostly consisted of filling 64 nodes on a brainwave-measuring cap with a gel similar to aloe vera but completely edible. I never tasted it because I was afraid I would become addicted. The coolest part was the vial of liquid we used to sanitize the equipment. It can dissolve human flesh in six minutes or less. I made it out with all of my extremities so that was cool.

I took the LSAT in September. My score was fine; I’m going to try again just to see in February. I made myself so nervous that after it was over I threw up in a bush at a swanky Birmingham strip mall. It was 1 pm.

I was elected president of my sorority! It was a huge honor and something I was afraid to even dream of because I really wanted it. I realize that is pretty lame. On a parabola of how into your sorority you are as a function of coolness, I am on the far right (see figure below).

Far too into it. Not cool at all.

The adjustment was hard. A sorority president’s term is only for a year, so your transition time is very short. I had about a week, which preceded finals week. In that week I adopted the new mother phrase “sleep when the baby sleeps,” except my baby was my email account. I also caught myself thinking, Gosh, I wish I could just shower in peace which I am also told new mothers think. I was already wearing stretchy pants so I didn’t even have to change that part. Since I had just given birth to a 450 person sorority, I cut myself some slack. Since then, I have caught my stride and am both sleeping and showering. Big things!

This semester will bring more change. My parents are moving into their new home in Frederick, Colorado in January. Steven will be taking a new job (he’s a nuclear engineer) in Virginia. I will be taking a class at Alabama’s law school and traveling around the states. The January roster is Dallas, San Francisco, Atlanta, and Baton Rouge. Did I ever mention I like to stay busy?

Happy Holidays and Roll Tide!

Megan

Enjoy a photo roundup of the semester.

 

What No One Told Me About Reaching My Goals

When I write my resume, I am proud of the things I have accomplished. In fact, I have done almost all of the things I set out to achieve in college. What I have learned is that those moments often don’t feel quite like you think they will (I always feel like I should be getting taller when I achieve my goals, even though I have been the same height for almost seven years). There’s a reason they say opportunity looks like hard work. When I was sixteen, my dream was to become a National Merit Scholar, go out of state for college, join a sorority (and become a leader within that sorority), and work in a neuroscience research lab.

The National Merit thing and the subsequent scholarship that allows me to be at Alabama was pretty predictable. I actually did feel super excited about the possibility that all my hard work paid off– but most other people (besides my parents and gifted counselor) didn’t really care or get it. Underwhelming.

I was very interested in neuroscience in high school and was disappointed that Alabama didn’t have a formal program. I love that I continued to follow that passion and joined our small lab. I could not have dreamed that I would have a chance to present our work at a national conference. I also didn’t dream that our lab would be on the humid fourth floor of one of the University’s oldest buildings. The peaks are high, but in the day-to-day? Underwhelming.

Joining my sorority and being appointed to my various leadership positions are among the happiest moments of my life. I didn’t ever think part of that leadership would be dressing up like a frat dude for an audience of hundreds– just kidding; I loved that. Most of the time, I don’t feel like Megan Anderson, Executive Board Member. I feel like Megan Anderson, Wears a Gray Sweatsuit to Breakfast Every Day. Underwhelming.

In so many ways, I am the person I wanted myself to be in college. I dress better, I like my major, and I don’t feel weird about studying alone in a coffee shop– but I don’t think of myself differently, and I think many young people feel the same. If you climb a mountain and look down the entire time it will always look like rocks (I assume. I have never climbed a mountain). The challenge is to remember that the ascent doesn’t cheapen the summit.

I just got back from Colorado so I am full of mountain climbing metaphors. Be proud of your accomplishments and try not to let daily monotony discourage you. Your goals are worthy, even when they feel lame.

xo,

Megan

PS. I tried to rewrite this in a number of ways that didn’t sound like a humble brag, but none of them worked. Here it is, my humble brag.

PPS. I wish I looked as good as this stock photo when studying but I am usually wearing the aforementioned gray sweatsuit.

Actual College Shopping List (<400 Items)

I always see “back to college” lists that are like 400 items long, which is overwhelming and unhelpful to everyone. If you have to be told to bring a toothbrush to college, you shouldn’t be going. But there are some items I would really recommend bringing. Here’s my dos and don’ts:

Bring:

1. Twin size foam mattress topper. (Therapedic, 3inch) I have a sensitive back and way less than $300 to spend on a mattress topper. This is my pick.
2. Organizers. Firstly, your dorm/sorority house room/apartment will be small, so if you bring too much crap there is no device on the planet that can make it fit. To make use of every inch, I recommend an over-the-door shoe hanger, Huggable hangers, and a cube organizer system.
3. Keurig. I own the family size one which I love because I’m lazy and don’t like to refill the water tower. I didn’t use this in the sorority house because one was already supplied.
4. Medicine. This is probably the most important item on the list. I am always sick at school. I keep lots of cold, allergy, and stomach medicine on hand because there’s nothing worse than not having it when you need it. I also keep a lacrosse ball in my medicine basket for rolling out knots in my shoulders after a long night of studying.
5. Slippers. At home, my mom likes to keep the house at 76 degrees, so I am frequently cold at school. If you live in the sorority house, you will be annoyed that you have to put shoes on to go on the main level and get breakfast. These are my “shoes.”
6. Wall art. Curating my wall art brings me a lot of joy. Let this be your excuse to paint something or take advantage of 50% off wall art at Hobby Lobby.
7. Credit card phone case. I lost my student ID seven times before I bought this.
8.  Iphone speaker. No one ever has one of these and it is essential to a good time.
9. Corkscrew.
10. Printer. I know this is controversial but I am pro-printer– if you are ok with being the girl with the printer. I am, and sometimes people will bring me snacks or like a dollar to use my printer. It’s a good set up.
11. My Little Steamer. Stop looking a mess today!
12. Towel wrap with velcro. These are good for commuting to the shower and also sitting in bed post-shower for two hours, which I have only heard about second hand and have never done myself.

Don’t bring:

1. A lot of clothes you bought the summer before college. Your style will change and you will sell them for $11.96 at Plato’s Closet.
2. Ice cream. Responsible for at least 30% of my freshman 15.
3. Every item you own. Seriously, it won’t fit. Throw some stuff away.

 

Advice for Graduates

Happy Memorial Day, everyone! Today, I chose to honor this holiday by buying a pair of Steve Madden booties at the Nordstrom Rack. There was a girl in front of me in line who was clearly a recent high school graduate (she was shopping for platforms but had not yet developed the comfortably soft physique familiar to undergraduate women who are not employed as shot girls). I looked at her in all her hopefulness as we both argued lightly with our moms about who was paying, and I felt a pang of nostalgia. These are the moments I didn’t see coming when I was in her (new, discount) shoes.

I gained (and lost) 15 pounds and almost no one noticed. Stop stressing about the freshman fifteen because it happened to me and my hairdresser adamantly insisted I had not gained any weight. My feelings were lightly hurt when I once commented about how obese I looked in a photo at my heaviest and people said I look the same now. 

I passed Calc 3. And then I never shut up about it. I am actually having a small custom trophy made for this accomplishment currently.

I should stop buying things online from Charlotte Russe. This is the cause of much of the rayon in my closet and the reason I had a weird obsession with minimalism and organizing this spring.

I cried when I bought my first suit. In a weird alternate universe, it was because I was proud of the accomplished young woman I was becoming and the bright future ahead of me. Really, I just felt ugly. I would recommend curling your hair and wearing pantyhose to combat this phenomenon. Don’t say to yourself, “I will look like this for the rest of my life.”

Buying a Swiffer is a rite of passage. I have attended a few Quinceañeras and one bar mitzvah, but if you are a white middle American like me without the funds for a Sweet 16, the purchase and subsequent usage of a Swiffer sweeper signifies the passage into adulthood. Cherish the moment, it is fleeting.

Sometimes I catch myself being who I always wanted to be. And I’m like Hey! This doesn’t feel as cool as I thought it would. I thought I would be taller! And more aloof!

My majors– Finance and Economics– interest me and could foreseeably pay my bills one day. Yet, they are a total conversation killer. I am always tempted to tell people I am a Marine Biology major. Everyone loves dolphins; no one loves the Federal Open Market Committee.

I used to think I was a pretty big narcissist. But then I got to college and realized I wasn’t even the best at that! It is truly amazing what being in a large pool of talented people will teach you.

Congrats, graduates! Shoot for the moon, even if you miss you will perish in zero gravity and your death will be on the Today show!

Xoxo,

Megan

 

I Was Wrong: A Once-in-a-Lifetime Admission

Forget everything I said in my last post. Coffee creamer, laying on the ground– what was I thinking? Those are inadequate treats for finals week. They are perfectly fine for your run-of-the-mill Tuesday, but not for finals week. Listen to me very closely:

Get a massage. 

Go to a really ritzy salon and get a massage. I did this a few days ago and I would describe myself as “too relaxed to drive.” I am confident that if I ever went through something very traumatic and had to imagine my happy place, the spa I visited would be it. Sometimes, in our lives, events mark a before and after– a crossroads, after which nothing is the same. That massage is a crossroads in my life. Never in my life will I have extra funds, because I am now a massage addict. Veritably, I can see myself as a homeless person begging on the street when someone sees me and crassly tells her child, “Don’t give her anything; she’ll just spend it all on massages.”

I now have to get good grades so I can grow up to one day support my massage habit. Call that finals motivation.

“Can you spare a dollar?”

Megan

 

Finals Motivation: They Don’t Think It Be Like It Is, But It Do

We’ve arrived at the end of the semester, which means it’s time for Christmas cocktail parties, study snacks, and still wearing shorts because it is Alabama and seasons are but a societal construct. Most importantly, it’s time to crack down on classes and finally learn everything I put off learning since I had my last tests. Last year, especially, I found myself wondering in the days leading up to finals, “Why me?” I had a Calc 3 teacher who I can only describe as Satan incarnate. I had four cumulative finals. Everywhere I went, people were playing with dogs, eating crawfish, and listening to jam bands while I had to stay inside and watch video after video trying to understand “curl.” It felt downright cruel.

I have always loved school, but that doesn’t mean I have always enjoyed it.  In fact, though I love to learn, I have really hated the structure of school at various points in my life. Still, three ideas have helped me survive the hardest times in my educational career; this is what I want to share in the days leading up to finals. My keys to success aren’t study methods (cram if you want to– I do) but general ideas to help motivate, inspire, and direct efforts.

1. Focus. My motto for pretty much all of high school was “I will because I have to,” which doesn’t roll off the tongue and is actually grammatically incorrect, but the substance is there. There’s not a lot of wiggle room in a motto like that: it doesn’t ask if I can, it doesn’t ask what I want. This motto got me through my junior year, when I (unwisely) took seven AP classes and also helped me survive literally any time I had to run (any speed or distance) for soccer. The corporate version of this saying is “Just Do It,” but I like mine better not only because I thought of it but also because it involves the next idea, which is:
2. Dream big, do a little. The “because I have to” part of the motto implies some greater goal, which I think is imperative to success. Pick something, and aim for it, then decide all the little steps you need to take to achieve it. I knew I wanted to get out of Kansas for college, and I knew I would need a large scholarship to make that goal financially practical. I knew my best shot was to become a National Merit Scholar, and I knew I had to score at least a 212 on the PSAT to have a chance. I knew I had to practice every day, until I scored well above a 212 every time I took the test. So I did. When my goals were firm and unmoving, everything else could wiggle, which brings me to:
3. Treat yo’ self. Do three things that make you happy every day, even if you have a math test. Some days will still suck; that is unavoidable. Some days, the biggest treat I can afford is to put peppermint mocha creamer in my coffee instead of vanilla. Some days it’s painting my toenails or taking time to listen to Enya and just lay on my carpet for five minutes in the dark (which makes me sound mentally unhinged but I can’t think of another way to phrase it). Love yourself; treat yourself.

Knee deep in coffee and flashcards,

Megan

P.S. Always remember that studying never looks as cool as it does on tumblr (see first image). It’s ok to have bad handwriting and a crappy desk and look like an actual dust bunny when you study. It doesn’t make you less smart or successful. This idea actually inspired the title of this post but I didn’t get around to mentioning it until now. As Elle Woods said, “What you want is right in front of you.” Chase it.

Last week: Moving into Your “Third Place”

Coming soon: End of year wrap-up, probably, maybe

Moving into Your “Third Place”

I realized this title sounds like the third place I’ve ever lived, which would be my freshman dorm, but there’s actually a pretty well-recognized concept known as the “third place.” The third place is basically a place you go very regularly that isn’t your home or workplace/school. For my strict definition of third place, it should be a place you visit multiple times a week.

Third places are important and the end of the third place for American adults is troubling because it signals a loss of connection (according to a lot of very serious articles). Third places in the past consisted of bridge clubs, lodges, church groups and similar locations. Some have suggested the internet as the modern-day third place, something I have some qualms about. Though I am on the internet every day (every second, some might say), it doesn’t foster the kind of close connections traditional third places do. It doesn’t build me. It does build my collection of cute dog pictures.

Starbucks even considers itself a third place, which is incidentally how I came to know about third places at all. The only person I actually know who makes Starbucks their third place is one of my economics teachers, who goes to Sbux every day and even intentionally decorated his apartment like a Starbucks.

Unless you’re my econ teacher, the chance of you moving into your third place is probably slim. My whole life, my third place was my dance studio, and though I loved it, I doubt they would let me move in. So when I had the unique opportunity to move into my college third place, I jumped at the opportunity– but not for that specific reason.

The ADPi house is my college third place, though I award Jimmy John’s and certain fraternities honorable mention. As a freshman, I came to the house every day to eat, study, and meet with my friends. During rush, I told PNMs (potential new members for those unsaturated with greek life) all about how I loved the house, spent so much time at the house, and even frequently napped on the couch we were sitting on. I usually followed it with this:

NAILED IT. But what I didn’t realize was how different living in the house would be. There were all the things I had hoped for: spontaneous trips to get takeout, random meetups in the second floor living room that turned into movie marathons, free laundry. To be honest, there were fewer pranks than I expected, which was disappointing. However, overall it has been about as cool as one could possibly hope for.

Unexpected dilemmas still arose. During rush I didn’t leave the house for two weeks. I had become unaccustomed to sunlight and was actually 70% through the naked mole rat transformation process. Who knew it was so simple? I have also totally removed commuting from my life, which is both a positive and a negative. People who actually have to commute like an hour for their jobs would probably give anything to give up their commutes, but there’s something psychological about physically going home that allows you to take off the day’s stress and be off duty. Walking upstairs doesn’t really have that same effect. On the other hand, I can roll out of bed, grab 8 strips of bacon (we always have bacon– don’t think sorority girls don’t eat) and be to class in 10 minutes.

Sharing a room is different, too. My roommate, Aly, was my roommate last year and we don’t have any of the major roommate problems I’ve heard of in my time at college– and there are some doozies. Aly’s worst roommate flaw is probably “watches too many movies,” so I’ve been pretty lucky. Still, for the last five years of my life, I was the only child living at home. I had basically unlimited alone time and space. I thought always being around others would annoy the daylights out of me, and for about two weeks, it did. Then, something amazing happened:

I became someone who loves to have other people around. It weirds me out when Aly goes on trips with her mock trials team and I have to fall asleep in our (totally normal sized, not overly large) room alone. Studying alone feels weird. I’m writing this in the basement study room/TV room and honestly feel a little weird about being alone. Living in the house really does connect you to your sisters.

I would absolutely recommend living in your sorority house. You’ll feel like you’re always on call– and if you have a leadership position, you are– and you’ll never be alone, but that’s half of the point. My sorority house is the safest, loudest, coziest (even though they keep the thermostat at 68 and I’m getting frosted out) and 2nd most meaningful place I’ve ever lived. First most meaningful is obviously my parents’ house but that’s a given for so many reasons. If you have the chance to live in a sorority house, do it. The only other chances to live with 64 other women are jail or a brothel and this blog post applies to neither of those places.

xoxo gobble gobble,

Megan

Last week: Word Vomit

Next week: Not really looking to commit to anything because it’s Thanksgiving but I have some extra days off school so maybe if the mood strikes me (why does this sound like a Tinder bio)

How To Choose Your College Best Friends

Fair warning: this is one of my quarterly “blogger-y blogs.” It’s long and a little bit more done than I normally like to do, but I think I maybe said something new or cool here.

…

I think everyone in my generation knows that it can be far too easy to consume in excess– fast fashion and fast food, particularly– but increasingly I’m noticing fast friends, a flavor-of-the-week phenomenon based upon mutual boyfriends or compatible Instagram angles. It can be easy to write these friendships off as adventures or merely being social, but increasingly they are replacing friendships of substance based on shared values.

As I get older, my friends don’t play on the soccer team with me or dance at the same studio. We often aren’t in the same classes and our parents don’t know each other. What holds us together aren’t common interests or obligations, but an understanding that we value the same things. Our majors, hometowns, and personal styles make up who we are, but what is more important is what we are about. 

…

Momento Mori is the motto of the school in A Series of Unfortunate Events. It means “Remember you will die,” which used to freak me out, but now has become one of my personal mottos.

Friend: Dude, you’re wearing a yellow shirt and red shorts…

Me: Everyone dies someday.

This is not as depressing as it seems. Imagine being freed of everything embarrassing you’ve ever done. That time you used the boys’ bathroom in the fourth grade– gone. When you had braces– gone. One day, all these things will disappear, because you– and everyone else who could have witnessed it– will die. Our embarrassments are temporary, our worries are temporary, our bad outfits are very, very temporary. Instagram is on the internet (home of screenshots and databases) and it is still only as lasting as the collective whims and tastes of the youth. Only one thing lasts: your legacy. The values you carried, the morals you lived by, the work you did: these are the things that are lasting, meaningful, and memorable. When you are dead– when everyone who knew you is dead– who you were will not matter, but what you were about will.

…

I learned everything about what I’m about from my father, one of the coolest guys around and a friend I would like to have. These are Dan Anderson’s secrets to good living– the qualities I look for in myself in a friend.

• Pet all dogs.
• Be an encourager. Dan Anderson (hereby referred to as Danderson) isn’t afraid of a pre-game or post-game talk. He could often be found behind the goalie’s net yelling, “You’ll get ’em next time!” or “Keep your head up!” I never played goalie. This didn’t stop Danderson.
• Hold on. My dad has had the same best friend since third grade. They still talk every week and can be found on a golf trip together or at each other’s milestone birthdays, telling crazy stories from growing up down the street to their college days. My dad doesn’t have a Facebook; in his words, “Anyone I wanted to keep up with, I did.” He’s been married to my mom for over 25 years– that’s holding on.
• Laugh. In church, too. At yourself, too
• Go the extra mile. Whether is was standing in line for an hour to buy out the store of dark chocolate-covered strawberries for Valentine’s Day or waking up every fall and winter Friday to make a pre-game breakfast for me (I was a cheerleader and had no measurable effect on the game), Danderson does not half-ass it. When my family delivers Thanksgiving turkeys to families in need, my dad ups our number each year and often stays to deliver the strays that no one else claimed.
• Work hard. Do your homework first. Do your homework early. You never know when something fun will come up and you need to be ready.
• Do the right thing, and when you mess up, admit it. My dad says sorry. My dad says, “I’m just learning, too.”

Living with permanence, like my dad does, requires selflessness, loyalty, and dedication. It requires self-evaluation, which isn’t comfortable. It requires depth. My dad has never gotten a like on Facebook or Instagram, he doesn’t follow the trends, and he doesn’t understand any music that came out after ’89, but he is someone I would count myself as lucky to have as a friend. We could all use more of them.

…

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.  It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.  Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.  It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

 Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.”

xo,

Megan

The Best Freshman Year Summary in the Universe

While a lot of people have been writing about their freshman year, using lists and gifs to (somewhat cliche-ly, let’s be real) sum up their experiences, I’ve been thinking on the subject as well. Because I’m not a real blog and because I think most lists, even if they’re really accurate, insult the intelligence of the general populace and add nothing to the global conversation that we, as young people, are so blessed to be a part of, I’m going to instead focus on how my freshman year was defined by two questions: What do you want to do and How good are you, really?

When you’re in high school, it doesn’t really matter what you want to do. It does, to some extent, because you’re making huge, life altering choices about your future, but at the same time you still have to ask to use the bathroom. I don’t know how we as a society reached a point where we trust teenagers to take out massive student loans in order to make the single largest capital investment of their lives but somehow handling their bodily functions is beyond them? If you want to talk about double standards, that’s the one I want to talk about. Moving on: all your life you are prodded, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” and you answer, “A veterinarian!” if you’re like every other girl in my first grade class or “A zamboni driver until I’m 80 and then an astronaut!” if you’re 7 year-old Megan. But you never really have the power to chase those dreams. Sure, you can take a lot of science classes and volunteer at the Humane Society or spend every spare moment at the ice rink until the local U-18 hockey team puts out a restraining order on you, but you have no tangible ways of working towards your career goals. In college, I have changed my major four times, three of them before I took a single class, so I have had lots of opportunity to directly affect my future. I’m also going to Italy (ITALY), which has been a lifelong dream of mine that I am finally old enough to chase. And it’s not just the huge, life-altering decisions. It’s getting to chew gum and wear a hat whenever I want (side note– if I’m ever rich enough to make a large donation to Topeka High I’m going to have a portrait painted in which I’m wearing both a strapless top and a baseball cap. It will be hung in the library and it will be hilarious). Every day, the question is “What do you want to do, Megan?” and I say to myself, “Self, I will do whatever I want.” It’s pretty great.

On the flip side, college is a whole new world. When I lived in my hometown, I often wondered if I was standing on my own two legs or being supported by the friends and accomplishments I had previously secured as crutches. Being confident was easy; everyone  had known me and could speak to everything I had accomplished in my whole life. It was kind of like being a Spice Girl: even if you accomplished nothing else, ever, people could still talk about that time you were a Spice Girl. So the question in college has become, “How good are you, really?” Really really. Not just compared to your high school or your small town but compared to the 300 foreign students who are applying to your masters program and are in the library at 11 on a Friday, and not just during finals week. This question and its competitive nature keep me from failing out of school when the answer to “What do you want to do?” is “Dance on top of the Theta Chi couch until 2 a.m. the night before my Econ test.” My competitive nature is, at times, the only thing that motivates me to better myself, which is a little scary. Think about it: if I didn’t want to beat other people at things, I wouldn’t really care what happened to me. Scary. But yay I like winning so I won’t allow myself to fall into irreparable  sloth!!

Freshman year has helped me discover who I am. I am pretty much a fully formed adult at the moment; I have emerged from my chrysalis; I am a butterfly; trust me with your retirement fund because I am a business lady. Those were all jokes but some of them were sort of true-ish. I don’t know if this was the best freshman summary in the universe but just because I’m not a real blog doesn’t mean I’m above click-bait. I’m just gonna log off because finals week is getting to me and this is getting weird.

Love,

Megan

Final thought: My brother has two commemorative tattoos of his college and his major (he’s a nuclear engineer from Missouri Science and Tech). If I got a similar tattoo it would be a taxidermied Big Al stuffed and overflowing with money because I’m a finance and economics major at Alabama. Roll Tide.

Someone take the internet away from me.