Comparison is the thief of joy.

If someone were to ask me on the street what my worst quality was, I would say my tendency to compare myself to others. I'm a pretty type-A, driven person. Yet I can't help but compare my accomplishments and progress (or lack thereof) to others'.

But isn't this an integral human flaw? It's far more rare to find someone who is completely sure of themselves than to find someone who is self-conscious. Self-consciousness is almost a pre-requisite to function in society today--we have grown to distrust or even inherently dislike those who display too much confidence. 

And why? Shouldn't we be applauding those who have come to embrace their flaws and focus on their accomplishments? Or are we too proud to give our peers a pat on the back?

Sometimes we need to take a step back and remind ourselves that we don't have to be doing what everyone else is doing. While we may be the same age as someone else, we are in entirely different circumstances. We all have overcome different hardships. We have endured both setbacks and successes. 

It's easy to say, "Stop comparing yourself to others." I am not a preacher (and if I was, I would be preaching more to myself than to anyone). Yet little reminders can never hurt. 

Comparison is our main tool of measurement as humans. We've been taught to compare and contrast since we opened our eyes. We compare prices, sizes of watermelons and great works of literature. It's only natural that we compare ourselves to others. 

A certain quote comes to my mind whenever I find myself dwelling too much on my insecurities: "Don't compare your beginning to someone else's middle."

Everyone has different goals, expectations, hopes and dreams. I realize that I may not meet my goals as quickly as someone else. Yet that doesn't make that goal, or me, any more insignificant than that person. There are so many delicate details that allow one to reach their goals, or even a bit of happiness, that we can't even begin to compare ourselves to others. 

It's simply unfair. 

College is a breeding ground for comparison-making. I have so often felt the tinge of insecurity when I hear that someone has completed a paper far earlier than me or when someone else has scored their dream internship. 

College has taught me you can't always be first in your class; you won't always be the first-choice candidate for the job; and you won't be invited to every party. College has taught me that it's okay if you're not always first. 

The struggle is what gives us strength. 

Fight the urge to compare yourself to others. With a little hard work, we'll all get there in due time.

On birthdays and milestones.

Yesterday was one of my best friend's birthdays, and it also happens to be yet another month anniversary for Kyle and I. My friend has always been the type of birthdays to think of birthdays as both happy and sad--she loves to dwell on the fact that yet another year has passed, and that we're only getting older. 

It made me think how interesting it is that we put so much emphasis on birthdays and other milestones in our culture. Today, girls are known to turn their birthday celebrations into week-long extravaganzas (yes, my friends and I are guilty of this) and couples seem to celebrate every week of being together. 

Perhaps we celebrate to avoid thinking about the time that is passed, or perhaps give these dates meaning merely as an excuse to throw a party. I love celebrating milestones--but I am also the type of person that thinks every day should be celebrated. 

I believe that even the simplest of moments in life can be made special if we take the time to cherish them. Every moment is fleeting--so why not celebrate? Throw on your party dress, add a little lipstick to your pout. 

Life is a beautiful thing. You will never be this young again, so have some fun. Every day is different, and should be embraced because of that. 

Sometimes I struggle with spending too much time wishing it away. And that makes me sad, because I will never get that time back. I want to spend my time being happy, and creating happiness for others. 

As my guest ballet professor said last week, "If you send out good vibes to the universe, they're sure to come back to you." It's time we stopped wishing away time, brushing off birthdays and anniversaries. These days are what remind us of the happiest moments of our lives--and why should we push those moments away? 

//image via Kate Spade New York's Pinterest

Things I adore...

Fall treats. Fall is my favorite time of the school year. Nothing is better than the crisp weather that's just perfect for pairing a cable knit sweater with worn-in boots. Lately my roommates have been coming back with plenty of treats from home, including freshly picked pumpkins and hot-out-of-the-oven apple cider donuts (which I love, and I sincerely lament the fact that we don't have them in California). Check out this homemade recipe on Say Yes to Hoboken. 

How (Exactly) to Look Like a French Girl. This beauty feature by Refinery29 is cheeky and cute (and completely helpful). Who doesn't want to look like a French girl?

SoulCycle. I've heard about SoulCycle from other bloggers for ages, but I've never had the opportunity to take a class. Until recently. One of my sisters in my sorority works at the SoulCycle studio in Scarsdale, and was able to secure a free month of classes for students at our college. I am in LOVE. It's so painful, but so exhilarating all at once. I am definitely going to mourn my loss the day these free classes end. 

The Sartorialist: Fall inspiration. The Sartorialist used to be the first website that I visited every day in high school. It was my style bible. I haven't been checking it as much lately, and it's definitely something I regret. I was perusing the site today and this photo resonated with me most--I feel like it captures the style I want to channel this fall exactly. Sign me up for grunge-y plaids, leather boots and paradoxical cable-knit sweaters. 

Fall semester goals.

Fall semester is flying by. I can't believe next weekend is Homecoming (which I am beyond excited for) and that I am in the midst of midterms season. Tomorrow marks the two-month countdown until I am home for winter break. My mom is already telling me, "The end is near!" 

For the most part, I'm trying not to think about the passage of time. What I am thinking about, however, is what I would like to accomplish for the rest of the semester (or aim for). Here are some little (and very big) goals I have for the remainder of 2013:

-Learn how to French braid my hair. 
-Make every day a special occasion--live life to the fullest at that very moment. 
-Send surprise letters and packages to loved ones.
-Skype with my parents on a regular basis--whether it's every week or each month.
-Learn how to bake something new. (Pumpkin Banana Spice Bread, anyone?)
-Say yes to more unexpected dinners, study dates and late-night conversations. 
-Bulk up on basics: plaid shirts, chunky sweaters, and thick tights for winter. 
-Go camping for the first time. In Yosemite. With Kyle. 

Of course, this is only the beginning of what I could hope to accomplish by the end of the year. But for now, I think that's quite enough. 

//image via Kelly Cummings

Creativity.

Sometimes, it feels like life gets in the way of what we want to do or who we want to be. Instead of being the very thing that inspires creativity, life stumps it. We become so caught up in obligations, so tied down by what we think we have to do instead of what we want to do that we forgo originality for getting the job done. 

Especially during this time of the semester, I feel as though I start to become swamped by schoolwork, meetings, events and more. When I try to come up with creative ideas for a new blog post or story ideas to send out to my newspaper staff, I am at a loss for words. The thought that runs through my head quickly becomes: "I don't have time to be creative."

Yet this is disheartening to me, because you should always have time to be creative. Creativity can strike at the randomest of times--and that's often when you get your best ideas. It's a matter of being open at any time to ideas instead of trying to force ideas to come to you. It's a matter of looking up instead of down at your phone. 

Last week, I wrote a column for my college newspaper (the Ionian) about falling into the 'busy' trap. I don't want to fall into that trap any longer. I want to be open to life and all that it has in store for me, and to feed off life to find inspiration. 

Every one of these tips is obvious. Yet sometimes its the most obvious things that we forget. Every once in a while, we need to be reminded of what's important. And I really need to be reminded of number 2, 8 and 10 right now. 

My creativity is one of my favorite qualities I possess. I shouldn't be suppressing it in place of "more important" obligations. It's a work in progress.

How do you stay creative when life gets busy?

The little things.

Lately, I have been in love with my weekends. My weekdays seem like they stretch on forever--oftentimes I'm out of my apartment for over 12 hours on the days that I intern. I'm constantly running from place to place. 

Yet when I walk out of my last class on Friday mornings, I couldn't be happier. A weight is lifted from my shoulders, even if I have many obligations to fulfill that weekend--there's just something about knowing that the long week has finally reached its term that's indescribable. 

Those long weekdays have also made me appreciate my weekends more. I treasure the hours that I get to spend lounging around my apartment in the comfiest clothes possible with my roommates. I treasure the extra minutes that I am able to linger in bed, cuddled up under my white sheets and white comforter with the morning light just barely seeping in through my navy curtains. 

What I treasure most, however, are the little things. I love when things turn up unexpectedly, and become something better than you ever imagined. I love when a movie night becomes a night of sharing stories over homemade guacamole. I love when my roommate and I both decide against cooking, and end up going on a date for Italian food and some spontaneous catching up.

Yesterday I called my mom, and we talked about absolutely nothing important for over an hour. I FaceTimed with Kyle before falling asleep. My dad and I exchanged photos of where we were today via text. I ran into my big sis at a walk for autism unexpectedly, and I finally spent time with my little sis after not seeing her all weekend. When I got in the car, my roommate who I hadn't seen all day gave me the biggest hug. 

These are the little things that matter the most. These little things are what put a smile on my face, and remind me just how lucky I am. As I lay in bed on a Sunday night typing this, I couldn't feel any more grateful. But I'm sure I will, and that is what excites me the most.

Happy Monday, all.

//image via bluepueblo.tumblr.com

Reality check.

Sometimes, things happen to us in life that are hard to explain. You hope to make these experiences sound better than what they are, or you hope to tone them down in your retelling of them. 

Yet sometimes, all you can do is say exactly what happened. No embellishments, no editing necessary. Bluntness is often unavoidable if you want to tell the truth. 

Thursday morning, I was hit by a car. 

That's it. That's the very cold, hard truth of the matter. It doesn't make any sense to precede those six words with any other explanation. 

As I was walking to my 8 a.m. class (that I was most likely running late for), I crossed the street in front of my apartment building thinking that all was clear as all the cars at the intersection closest to me were stopped. I had assumed too much, however, when the light changed and I was almost all the way across the road. 

A car had accelerated into its turn, hit me on my left side, and I went flying through the air. I can't tell you what I was thinking in those few moments between hearing the resounding thud of the metal colliding with my body and hitting the asphalt. My mind wandered to places that I hope it never has to wander again, thinking of those closest to me and what this could mean for my future. 

Somehow, I stood up immediately after landing on my left side. Adrenaline was most likely my saving grace, with the help of God. I can't be thankful enough that nothing worse happened than the injuries I suffered, which consisted of soreness, bruising, a few scrapes and road rash. 

I find myself thinking constantly about what could have been, and immediately praying with gratitude for His love. It was so hard to call my parents right after it happened. It was 5 a.m. in California and I woke them up crying, saying I was hit by a car. I'm so thankful nothing worse happened if only for them, as they must have felt so helpless 3,000 miles away. 

This was a striking reminder to me about the fragility of life. We are constantly overwhelmed with reports on the news of murders and injuries at the top of every hour, but we never think that something similar could happen to us. 

We are only human. Life is precious, and it is constantly fleeting. The best moments always are, which is all the more reason that we need to appreciate them. While my accident may have been minor, it has inspired so much more within me. 

Say 'I love you' at the end of every conversation. Call your parents every day. Don't wait to tell someone something because you're worried about what they'll think. Take that extra minute to catch up with a friend. 

Stop, and breathe. Appreciate your surroundings, and where you are in life. We'll never be this young again, and we never know what life may place in front of us. 

//image via Note to Self

Thinking in the long-term.

Going to school 3,000 miles away from home changes your perspective on a lot of things. You begin to think about things that are months, even years away. 

To tell you the truth, I hate thinking far into the future. I have always believed in focusing on the present, and completely immersing yourself in whatever you are working on or needs your attention at this moment. And generally, that has led me to success in the future without specifically planning on that success. 

If you work hard and you are kind, you will go far. 

Yet there are some things about the future that you just can't avoid thinking about or having to plan. Despite the fact that I am only in my third week of school, I am already stressed about trying to switch around my scheduled final exam periods to book a flight home. I'm worried about losing out on deals, or losing the opportunity to fly out at an earlier time because they're sold out. 

These are the things that keep me up at night. 

I think about exactly how many days I will have to spend with my family, my friends and Kyle. I think about when I will have to fly back for spring semester, which is not for another five months. I think about if I will go home for spring break, if I will go on a mission trip, or if someone from home will visit me. 

Just last night, my roommates and I were talking about where we might end up living after college. And that's still two years away. 

I hate thinking in terms of the far-off future, but as the years become shorter, that future doesn't seem as far-off as it once did when I was younger. I'm learning that thinking about what is to come is something that comes with growing older. I may try to fight it, but it's just another experience that I have to face in this weird time in life. 

I may be considered a legal adult, but I still feel like I should be relegated to the elementary school playground. I have matured, but I still have a long way to go. I have to step up and accept the responsibility of thinking about and planning for my future--after all, who else will? 

It's moments like these when I really feel like a twenty-something.  

//image via Lara Casey Media

Skype.

I've grown to be grateful for the simplest of things. Going away to college has certainly humbled me and made me realize what matters most. And after moving into an apartment, I've certainly learned how much I have to be thankful for at home. 

I'm sure that this will only continue as I grow older and experience all of the changes that are to come. 

Perhaps what I am most thankful for, however, is Skype. Modern technology has given us the ability to traverse great distances through a computer screen, or even from the convenience of our smart phones. 

I honestly don't think that I could have stayed in New York without Skype. Of course, I couldn't have stayed in New York for countless reasons--I couldn't have stayed if I didn't meet the friends that I have made, if I didn't feel so comfortable at my campus... the list goes on. 

Of course, Skype isn't the same as seeing someone face-to-face. And I don't think any technology, no matter how sophisticated, will ever replace that kind of contact. Yet Skype is the next best thing. One of my favorite feelings is the one that rushes over me when I see a loved one's face pop up on my screen as my computer starts ringing, begging to be answered. 

It is so comforting to be able to talk to someone from home, and to be reminded of that connection that you hold so dearly. It's easy to get caught up in the stresses of day-to-day life, and forget about what you have that may be far away physically, but is so close in your heart. 

Skype is like a little window to a world that you have left behind, but will one day return to again. It makes life that much more bearable. It's easy to wish away life, to become excited as you get another day closer to going home (or whatever you're looking forward to). 

Yet I hate wishing away these days. I will never be this young again, or in this exact situation again. After all, what other time in life will I be able to live in an apartment just outside New York City with some of my closest friends as my roommates? When will I have the opportunity to work for virtually any media outlet that I want merely because I live within 30 minutes of the media capital of the world? 

I am so blessed, and yet I still find myself wishing away the days. While what I have waiting for me back in California may be worth counting down these days, I also desperately wish to enjoy the present. 

So in the meantime, I am grateful for Skype. I look forward to the future, but I also cling to the present. Thank goodness for technology. 

Sleep (or lack thereof).

For the past few nights, I haven't been able to sleep. I've found myself lying in bed for hours on end, not thinking of anything particularly, but thinking nonetheless. My mind hasn't been able to stop. 

It's interesting, because usually when you go to sleep, you either dream or you have nightmares (or if you're lucky enough, you're so tired you simply pass out). Yet I find myself stuck in some sort of an in-between, a purgatory if you will. Instead of being fully asleep or awake, I am stuck in a haze as the late night turns into morning. 

I'd like to read into it and say that it is because I have become obsessed with turning my dreams into a reality, but I think that's a little too cliche (even for me). My mind has always wandered, over thinking what a conversation could possibly mean or torturing myself over an email response I hope to receive. 

In this haze, my mind doesn't focus on any one particular thought (or also known as: torture device) but it jumps from one to the next, often overlapping. Everything seems interconnected, or seems like it should be. 

It's like finding your Christmas lights in a incomprehensible giant, knotted ball instead of neatly organized in their cardboard container. 

Nothing particularly makes sense, and the only way that it will is to painstakingly sort through it all. Unfortunately, my brain seems to have decided lately that the time to do this is at 3 a.m. But perhaps I simply need to set aside more time to reflect--to reflect and breathe. 

It seems like now is the time to figure it all out, or start to. Life seems to consist of untangling the knots that get in the way, even if that only lasts for a short period of time. Nothing will ever be perfect forever, but hopefully things will start to make a little more sense. 

And hopefully, I'll be able to rest a little easier. 

Alone time.

One thing that I am constantly working on is being alone. In college, it can be easy to fall prey to the worry that if you're not with friends at all times, there's something wrong with you. I've heard stories from my friends (and I must admit, I have done it too) that they would rather stay in their room starving instead of picking up dinner alone. 

At home, it's so much easier for me to feel okay with curling up with a good book and a blanket for the entirety of an afternoon. Yet in college, spending a few hours alone leads to worries that you're missing out. It leads to feelings of uncertainty, and painful pangs of homesickness. 

I fell prey to these feelings all too frequently my freshman year. At my college, students typically live close by, which means that they go home often. I found myself many a weekend with only one or two roommates instead of the usual nine that I had my first year. 

Yet it was this alone time that led me to step outside my comfort zone my freshman year. I got involved with new organizations, and made many more friends. Essentially, finding myself alone led me to find myself surrounded by friends at all times. 

As I've grown older, however, I've also grown to appreciate my alone time. I appreciate having the time and space to simply sit and think. I appreciate stumbling across new places on my past commutes home from New York City--they're like my own secret treasures. 

Being alone doesn't bother me as much as it used to. And I know that it's only going to feel more natural with time. 

Sometimes, all you need is to sit back, take a deep breath and enjoy your own company.

//image via Lara Casey

When it's time to say goodbye.

Saying goodbye to someone is one of the strangest, most difficult exchanges one can have as a human being. Of course, I am not one to believe in goodbyes. I will always be the one to correct a friend or loved one: "I'll see you soon. Don't tell me goodbye."

Yet it's difficult to convince yourself that you'll see someone soon, when the logical half of your brain says that four months isn't quite what one would define as "soon." The emotional half attempts to quash theses all too real thoughts--you suppress the inevitable tears and reassure yourself that it is going to be okay. After all, what would you do if it wasn't okay? 

Goodbyes are thought-provoking because you can't dwell on them. You expect such an exchange to be lengthy and emotional. A goodbye should have meaning, it should be memorable. 

But I've learned that you can't force something to be meaningful. Much like New Year's Eve or birthdays as we grow older, goodbyes typically fall short of our expectations. We expect them to be cinematic, with our hair blowing in the wind as our companion launches into a poignant monologue about how much they will miss us. 

We attempt to dismiss these expectations as silly and cliche (that's the logical part of our brains speaking again). Yet as you turn away from the one you're with, you can't help but wonder: is this it? 

This is the part of your story where there should be a climax. You've been thinking about this moment for weeks. You've been trying to spend as much time as possible with those you will soon be leaving, with the thought in the back of your brain that they will be too far away too soon. 

Yet once the time arrives, all that's left to do is say goodbye. You stand there with your arms hanging by your sides, exhaling with a heavy sigh and wonder what else you can do or say. You repeat yourself over and over, trying to console yourself as much as the one you're with. 

Ultimately, you realize that you simply have to let go. Hold on any longer, and you're merely inflicting more pain upon yourself and the one (or many) you love. 

It's like ripping off a band-aid. 

Do it quickly. The pain rushes in, fast and burning. It will linger, but you will not suffer the same numbing pain that comes with a drawn-out goodbye. There is a time to cry. That time is most certainly now. You must not torture yourself. It does not do well to dwell on such a moment; dwell instead on the happy ones. You made those memories for a reason. 

One thing is certain. Goodbyes never get any easier, no matter how many times you say them. Ripping off a band-aid hurts just as much at 63 as it did when you were 3. Yet they do make us stronger; they make us realize what we are leaving behind, what we are so lucky to have and what we will return to. 

I'll see you soon.

//image via Olivia Bee photography. 

Turn to love, always.

It's easy to become bogged down with the trivialities of life. Our routines consume us, turning us into robots that do not think, but merely do. As we become sucked into the drive to complete tasks, we often forget the qualities that make us most human: kindness and love. 

Of course, I am all too guilty of this. Whether it's pushing to get to the front of the library's coffee line or snapping at an innocent question from a family member, we all fall prey to these moments of insensitivity. Yet when I reflect upon life (overthinking is a well-honed skill of mine), I realize that being kind is one of the simplest yet most important things you can do. 

I came across this graduation speech on Maxie McCoy's blog Ilo Inspired, and I was instantly entranced. 

Choose love. Always.

////

George Saunders’s Advice to Graduates at Syracuse University

By JOEL LOVELL

New York or California?

via New York Magazine

It's always interesting to observe the reactions of people from my hometown, and even my home state (California), when I inform them that I go to college in New York. Naturally, the first thought that crosses their mind is how I manage to live in such a bustling city. And this is where I must make my first correction: my college is in Westchester County, just a 25-minute (ish) Metro North ride away from that city. 

While it is difficult for Californians to understand that the state of New York extends beyond Manhattan, they often manage to move on to make further inquiries. 

Do I like it there? Yes. Yes, I do. 

New York is completely different from California, especially the city. No, this is not because I live five minutes away from the beach where I surf every day (though I would like to learn how to surf). It's more so because of the atmosphere of these states--the feeling that you get when first stepping off an airplane there. 

I could list the differences between New York and California for years, but those differences don't hold enough significance to me to do so. I love the two states, and their respective bustling cities, specifically for their differences. 

Moving across the country for college has been a completely humbling experience. I have learned more than I ever have in a classroom by doing so, and I know I have many more years of learning ahead of me. It's daunting to think about the future, and I often do so only in small doses or large-scale goals in response to that feeling. 

Daunting is also precisely the word that comes to mind when my companions ask the inevitable question: Do you think you'll stay in New York forever? 

I know that this is an innocent attempt to make conversation, yet I also can't help but contemplate the question seriously. It is truly daunting to think of yourself staying in one place forever, especially at this age. I do love New York--I love for so many reasons that I can't articulate into words. But my heart is also in California. It's in San Francisco, Orange County and Los Angeles. 

My heart is in a million places at once. A million different interests, passions and dreams. But isn't every 20-something feeling the same thing? It's hard for us to see a clear outline of the future. At this point in our lives, it's more of a blur or perhaps a hopeful mirage. 

I always give the same answer to this question: "I don't know. I'll have to see where life and my work take me." Unfortunately, the bare-faced truth is that we often choose where we live not because it's our idea of utopia but it is where we can make a living. Yet I also compliment this answer with a smile, knowing that this uncertainty promises excitement and adventure. 

I know that I will be happy wherever I end up after college, and throughout the rest of my life. After all, my mother does always say that, "It's not what you have, but what you make of what you have." 

I will continue to fall in love with places I've never been and people I've never met. I will continue to fall in love with New York City and the city of angels. Cities hold memories and dreams. Perhaps it isn't the place we love, but the changes that we see in ourselves as we adapt to these new locales.

I could get used to these changes.