Inspiration Monday

What will you stand for?

My To-Do Lists Have To-Do Lists

I’ve invented a new system to get me to do things I don’t like to do.

Like laundry. Let's talk laundry. I love the act of my clothes getting clean, mostly because a machine does it. But when it comes to folding the laundry that is now clean or hanging it up in my closet, well… that’s a different story.

So my new technique is that anything I want to put off doing, I put on my bed. My bed that is made each day piles up slowly with junk things to do.

But you see the problem occurs when I’m really tired and cranky and just want to go to bed because I can’t get under my sheets. So what do I do? I sit that same pile of clothes on the floor.

“I’ll fold them tomorrow.”

They then end up back on my bed the next morning as a reminder of something to do.

This week marked the first week of school. I only have classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, which you would think would leave me plenty of time Monday-Wednesday-Friday for completing my to-do lists.

Let’s talk about my to-do lists. Most people cross them out as they get done. But usually, when I cross something off my to-do list, ten things get added. For instance, you washed your sheets. Great! Well, it’s your week to scrub the bathtub, take out the trash, read that book, write that response paper, solicit for lamination, go to that meeting, e-mail that person, etc.

You get the picture.

Which leaves me here. In my room. On a Saturday. Writing, what else, but to-do lists.

I tried this other technique where I color-code my to-do lists. But then I ended up with 8 different colored sticky notes only to find that the “code” meant nothing except that your desk is really colorful. 

So tonight, I folded my laundry. Yes, you are allowed to clap.

I scrubbed my shower. I took out the trash. I mopped the kitchen floor. I sent that e-mail (sorry it’s taken me a few days). I read the first paragraph of that book.

All in a good day’s work. And there’s more to come—the night is young.

So my point of to-do lists? Something I’ve learned from all this besides the fact that your t-shirts get really wrinkly when they sit out of the dryer too long?

Celebration of the little things in life.

We are so caught up with the go-go-go. Complete that task. Go do that. And to an extent, that’s all well and good. I’m guilty of being that person that is too busy to do anything else, but I’m also incredibly productive. I have friends who are even busier and I’m always in awe of what they do each day.

Recently I was in the car with my mom and this song came on the radio. Yes, it’s a country-twangy song but it never fails to remind me that my to-do lists, while important to accomplish tasks, sometimes need to be put on hold.

My List- Toby Keith

There are so many things in life that “it’s time that I make time for”.

This week with school starting and the homework assignments beginning it reminded me that this year is going to challenging. There are going to be weeks, I’m sure, where I just throw my hands up in the air and yell, “Why aren’t there more hours in the day?!”

But I realized that I need to start celebrating what I do get done in the day instead of feeling guilty for what I don’t accomplish.

We aren’t guaranteed tomorrow, so I’m just thankful that I had today to get things done in the first place. So celebrate I will.

 

One More Time

I made my way through the crowds to get a seat on the grassy quad a couple hours ago to enjoy UNC’s Sunset Serenade. The night before classes start (FDOC Eve) everyone huddles together for a fun tradition. You go to enjoy great music as the Carolina Blue Sky turns into a navy heaven speckled with stars. And you’re not alone. You’re surrounded by students from all over the campus ranging from Class of 2012 to Class of 2015. And as I listened and sang along to the voices from the acappella groups, it hit me. I’m a senior. I’m doing everything one last time.

It’s like the final chapter of a book before they suddenly grow up and have kids in the exposition.

It’s like the “99 bottles of beer on the wall” song and you’re on the slow part of the song where it goes “one bottle….of beer on…the wall”. And then everyone cries ‘cuz it’s over…

Anybody?

Ok, well, that’s my best reference to what I’m feeling.

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Anywhooo…

This weekend I babysat and Jake got my camera at the park. He really captured the experience there.

There are plenty more, trust me. The butt shot is always so appealing.

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I forgot how easily it is to get back in the swing of life in Chapel Hill. I’m talking you go from enjoying the beautiful day at Washington Square this summer to emails, meetings, be here, be there. It’s slightly overwhelming. But in a good way. I know I have a purpose. I’m needed again. I have a schedule again. I LIKE IT.

This year is going to be amazing.

Last night was Fall Fest. The sky threatened a little bit. But we weren’t scared.

Imagine every student organization on campus lined up in a half mile stretch of road and then that same road filled with every student on campus and badda-bing you have the madness and thrill of Fall Fest. First-Years come out to sign up for as many organizations as they possibly can and then the rest of campus comes out for, what else? Free stuff.

So with two clipboards in hand, a poster, and Anna Beth by my side, we stood in the middle of all of these students screaming for every student to sign up for the “best one-night stand of their lives”.

…I’m talking about UNC Dance Marathon, people. Sheesh!

It was great that so many people already knew about our organization and it was an amazing reminder of why we do what we do. Raise money for the patients and their families at the hospital.

Fall Fest is a whole ball of passion and enthusiasm. The First-Years come in excited about life.

And I soak enthusiasm up.

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This week I learned how to parallel park and I took a picture. Afterwards, I looked and the people I came with had literally run away embarrassed. Well, I was proud of myself. They told me not to blog about. So I did anyway. This goes out to Emily and Holly.

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Welcome back friends.

Welcome back Old Well.

Welcome back FDOC

Here we go, Carolina. One More Time.

Measuring Success with an Unmarked Ruler

Being at UNC, I have found that I am surrounded by contributors to society. People who came into the school as freshman with goals of solving problems in foreign countries or teaching children with disabilities or taking their athletic abilities to the professional level. It's amazing to walk on campus and see just how many organizations and events that students can take part in just outside their dorm rooms.

Tonight I went on a walk with my dad and my rabbit-tracking dog and we talked for a while about graduate schools. As I've mentioned before, the question of "Well, what are you going to do with your life?" has come up one too many times recently. I thought I knew. I think I know. I have an idea of what I want to do.

At dinner tonight, someone saw my dad and commented to the person she was eating with, "Oh, that's Jim from Human Resources at the hospital". And I brought it up at dinner later because as I've gotten older and began experiencing bits and pieces of the outside "real" world, it's become more apparent that your job is what defines you in our culture. You are your job. Your job is your contribution to society.

In our most reflective moments, each of us wants to make a difference- a contribution. We want to be a part of something meaningful and something we have a passion for. And it's in these parts of our lives and these times of figuring out the next step in life that makes you have these reflective moments more often.

We spend every day searching for meaning for our lives. Meaning that is often right under our nose.

Being in NYC this summer, I was surrounded by business men (and women) who I think (and I hope) were searching for this same meaning. They ultimately wanted to succeed in their jobs or to prove something (anything, really) to others and to themselves. And I think this mentality kind of turned me away from the city. I saw it time and time again. Ultimately, it's not you alone working for your successes. There are always multiple people rooting for you to succeed and it is with their help, that you do so. It's the mothers and fathers at the basketball games cheering you on even if you score in the wrong goal. It's the grandmother who never forgets to send you that birthday card. It's that sister that always affectionately calls you "sissy" to show that she loves you "lots and lots". And it's that friend who is always beside you reminding you of that time you called your professor "an idiot" out loud and he still gave you an 'A'.

Tonight I was reading my favorite blogger's post about friendship and it kind of occurred to me. I can make a contribution to society by being a good friend. I can make a contribution by fighting for what I believe in, whether it be politics or autism or anything really. I can make a contribution by making someone else's day better or listening to them talk about their problems. I can make a career out of multiple little contributions.

It's our senior year, of course, and we're all being asked the same question. What will you do next year?

But why should what you do next year necessarily change from what you do this year? Your career does not define you. You can't measure success with money, or promotions, or job titles.

"To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you lived. This is to have succeeded."
Ralph Waldo Emerson

Reuniting.

Let's see...

There are so many wonderful things about returning to school.

(1) New school supplies.

(2) New dreams about the semester ahead of you.

(3) New experiences to look forward to with friends by your side.

But my favorite?

(4) Reuniting with old friends.

It may seem cheesy, but there is nothing better than being reunited with friends. There’s something magical about being apart from someone for months—not speaking or hanging out—and then seeing each other again only to pick up instantly where you left off.

The inside jokes that make your day so much funnier and brighter. And that sense that someone cares enough about you to keep that friendship up even if you’ve been apart for a while.

It happened when I moved in with some lovely girls the other day. It happened in Target the other day while I was buying a carpet. It happened last night at the grocery story while I was buying that Haagen Dazs ice cream I missed so much. It happened today when I went hiking with some UNC-DM friends. It happened when I was on my run tonight.

Pure magic. And it’s by far my favorite part of coming back to school.

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Today, we went on a hike to a rope swing. I had no idea that Chapel Hill was so….mountainous.

And you know how I feel about the North Carolina Mountains—Oh, they’re my fave.

Sunny and beautiful—perfect weather for such festivities!

Snapping pics AND looking for snakes simultaneously!

Michelle Bachmann sends her sentiments. She’s been in your shoes before with bad pics.

And as the sign shows above, we’ve always been the type of group that “follows the straight and narrow path in life.” We would never, ever break any rules nor put our lives in danger for fun.

That’s what I love about these people.

Happy Birth-- Err, Moving Day!

Friday was spent filling up the U-Haul.

It all had to go in the truck.

When you’re moving, you continually ask yourself, “Self, will I really use this?”

And about 99.9/100 times for me, the answer will always be a resounding “YES!”

“Maybe I’ll use this for UNC Dance Marathon. Maybe I’ll have a squirrel come over and want to have a tea party and use real china. Or what if a leprechaun comes over and insists that I dress in a full St. Patty’s Day attire?”

Oh, I’ll be ready.

Moving is kind of the bain of my existence. It’s stressful and painful. You have to get organized. Or you could always do what I do and stuff everything into a box and hope that there will be some place in your room to store it. There are too many “ifs, ands, and buts"—and I’m not really a fan of those things.

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So being the awesome daughter that I am, I decided to move on my Dad’s birthday. Now, I know, I can hear all of you gasping from behind your computers. I got it. I’ve heard it all. I will never do it again. This is a solemn promise to my dad.

So, we celebrated Dad’s birthday on Friday night after Heather, Chris and Collin made their way from Wilmington. As always, I made a cake with a new recipe. The cake was called “Better than _____ Chocolate cake” and consisted of a rich pudding-based cake with pecans and a whole bag of chocolate chips. On top was penuche (caramel) frosting. It wasn’t the prettiest cake but it was yummy,yummy!

Collin proceeded to take every one of my Dad’s cards, because cards are the best. We are a card family for sure.

And he helped open all the presents.

And tested them out.

Dad received a cooler and a tool chest for the beach and some golf attire. I should have gotten him a more suitable t-shirt.

It was a great celebration.

Happy Birthday, Dad! I love you!! And, thank you!

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Moving Day arrived. The sun was shining over the U-haul when I woke up that morning…

We made our way up the Chapel Hill in a 4-runner, an X-terra, another car and the U-haul followed behind.

Clouds began to threaten our move.

Then rain—all afternoon.

Grass and mud tracked its way into the house and my millions of boxes that held all the treasures that I “needed” just made for what looked like an impossible task to accomplish.

All the furniture in, Heather and Chris left while Mom, Dad, and I set up the room.

Look how good it looks now:

My clothes line of old black-and-white photos above my desk.

The pic above is for my dad—you should never doubt my ability to hang pictures

My goal for my room was to make it homey. I wanted a place that I could  go and not be stressed about the world outside and I think that I created that. I just keep looking around the room prideful. It expresses so much of me, especially all the pictures because I took most of them. I also have black-and-white photos everywhere that make me really happy. Old pictures of Jackie Kennedy, old war scenes, and dance marathons from the 1940s. It all makes me happy.

And my red accents aren’t too shabby either, eh?

Little Red Table needs a lamp, but for right now, framed pictures on top will do.

It feels so great to be back in Chapel Hill. I woke up this morning happier.

This is my home.