PROJECT C: get on and vote!

I wanted to let you guys know about an awesome project in Athens, Clicking Creates Change, or Project C. For the next seven days, you have the opportunity to vote two times a day for one of four nonprofits in Southeast Ohio you want to to support. These include Habitat for Humanity, Good Works, the Jethro Project, or Community Food Initiatives. At the end of the voting period, funds will be divided and given to each organization accordingly.

and check out Project C on:

people observation #17: GET A LIFE!

It's week nine, and I am starting to catch my breathe after the marathon of a spring quarter I have had. Seriously. My day: wake up. run to breakfast. run to class. run to, well, to run. quick shower. quick meal. run to meeting. run to next meeting. work on a paper. run to work. read achapter. collapse in my bed. have a weird dream about running to so many places. wake up. do the whole thing all over again. Why do I involve myself in so much stuff? Well, the truth is, that I actually enjoy doing what I do, Imagine that.

So I'm sitting here trying to think about a time, even before college, that I was not so busy, that running from place to place was not my life. What does that feel like?

I find myself in my memories of the sixth grade. This was the year I decided I was going to save the world. I was dancing for two hours a day, four days a week, and spending my nights I had off in metropolitan Columbus for doubleheaders on my travel softball team. Because I was going to save the world, however, this meant that it was necessary to run for a position as a sixth

grade student council representative. Oh, the things I would do, the changes I would make!

I ran with the campaign slogan a breath of fresh Erin (get it?) and taped little slips of paper with my witty words to Lifesavers and star mints. We were suppose to give special speeches to the class at lunch one day, and instead of coming with a long list of why the students should elect me, I stood in front of them, took a good hard look at their big twelve-year-old eyes and said, "Erin McCarthy. Remember the name."

I think back to long before that, and find myself still a busy beaver. When I was in second grade, my parents had to have a long conference with my teacher because I was too crazy. I was hiding in the fire truck on the playground when everyone else went inside. I didn't want to sit in the classroom and learn about why it was wrong to call Emily a teacher's pet (she totally was). I didn't want to sit in the classroom at all. I didn't want to get yelled at for "yawning too loudly." People weren't meant to sit still. I wanted to do. So they put me in classrooms where I filled out those logic puzzles where you used process of elimination to figure out what sibling played on which team with what color uniform, tell me you guys know what

I'm talking about. This still wasn't enough. I wanted to do.

And there's my point. Long before I knew what a resume was, I wanted to do. I have always been a DOER.

It's important to not let ourselves be comfortable with things the way they are. There's always a change that can be made for the better. One of my favorite quotations by Howard Thurman says, "Don't ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive and go do it because what the world needs is people who have come alive."

My parents always encouraged me in whatever I wanted to do with my life, and I thank them for that. Building my resume wasn't the reason they showed up to my field hockey games to watch me chew my mouth guard on the bench, and it wasn't the reason they helped me make campaign posters for my election at 11o'clock on a school night (back when being up at eleven was an abomination). What they were doing was helping me figure out the things that I was passionate about. When it turned out that I wasn't willing to sacrifice my love of music for field hockey, they supported me when I stopped playing.

I find my passion in a number of things, and I realize that everyone's is a different thing. I find that beautiful. In sixth grade, when I won the sixth grade spot on the Student Council, I found myself getting to be involved in a part of my school that I wouldn't have otherwise, and it's all because I went out and looked.

When I'm running from place to place, I get to know some pretty cool people with a variety of stories. And I get to learn about all different kinds of things. Sometimes people tell me, "Erin you need to take some time off! You need to get a life!"

My response to them is this is my life. This is what I love. This is what makes me come alive.

people observation #16: Drinking my coffee black does not make me more cultured or intelligent or cowboy. It makes me a snob.

I drank too much coffee this morning. I really do feel like I am high and every attempt to remotely sit still is a struggle. Thanks Dunkin Donuts. Your hazelnut indulgence has turned me into an aholic.

I didn't drink coffee until I got to college (something about sleeping four hours a night that makes you want to unnaturally stimulate your energy level). Before college, I enjoyed it, but only if it was in some 300 calorie concoction involving chocolate and whipped cream.

But now, after simply two years of my taking part in this American daily ritual, I have become a coffee snob. I drink it straight up: hot and black, brewed to perfection, preferably fair-trade (gotta protect da workers).

[Sidenote: when I was little my mom got me into unsweetened hot/iced teas so that I didn't have to be the a-hole always need sweet'n'low or honey or lemon or milk or laxatives or whatever said a-hole requires for the enjoyment of their beverage. I guess my cut-out-the-middleman drink philosophy I've inherited from my mother carried over to my coffee principles as well That being said, my mom puts milk in her coffee. Ha, what a peasant. End sidenote. ]

I like to think that I have a little bit more of a liking from the baristas who I order coffee from. (I mean, they're not just college journalism majors with nothing to do with their degrees so they got a job at Starbucks right? I mean, they're baristas for god's sake!) They ask "room for cream?" and I say "puhhhllleeeeeez, and waste an extra six ounces of that Columbian goodness?"

[Sidenote: If you read that quote out of context you'd probably assume I was referring to another main Columbian export. Please don't think that. Sidenotewithinasidenote: I've never actually said that to a barista.]

I like to think we black drinkers have a greater respect in the coffee community. Something that the lesser people I am going to call creamies aspire to be like. As if they stare with twinkling eyes saying to each other, "wow, I want to be like her one day," while I intentionally walk by the cream and sugar table with my nose in the air. "I am just a lowly creamie," they exclaim, disappointment blanketing their faces. Soon enough creamie, soon enough.

But the truth is, not everyone cares for their coffee to be black. What I feel to be insipid, the creamie might find to be rainbows in his mouth. And what I find to be a radical reflection of my savvy time-management skills, the creamie might find to be a reflection of the never-stop attitude I call my life.

I drank my coffee this morning with a little bit of cream. It was pretty good.

things i like.

It's raining today, and if I don't write about something positive bad things will happen. Here is a list of eleven things that I like:

1. Leaving my phone behind. Sometimes I overwhelm myself with people to call, emails to reply to, texts to respond to, appointments to make. I enjoy just forgetting about that crap for a while. I see my relationship with my phone as a love-hate relationship. Like yeah, I love the thing when it's helped me meet up with people, or call 411, or stay in contact with some of my weirdo friends who don't have facebooks, but then there's that "why-do-I-need-to-bring-this-with-me?" resentment factor towards the thing.
2. Getting high on Running. I love it so much. I love the feeling after a run. I love that there can be professionals and amateurs competing in one race. I love that I am competing against myself.

3. Sauce. It's awesome how you can change the taste of something by adding a different kind of sauce to it. nuff said.

4. Sitting. Most of my days are spent running from one place to the next. In class I'm not focused on just sitting somewhere. But at the end of a day, somewhere around 11p.m. when all my crap is complete, I like to do nothing but sit. I try not to think about much. I try to not have any tasks at hand, not even the TV on. Just sit.

5. Progress. I enjoy keeping a journal of where I am in most everything. I have one for my workouts; it's fun to go back six months ago and see how I've progressed. I have a journal for my daily life; it's even more fun to go back and look all of the

mountains I was making out of mole hills and where I've come since then. My liking of progress also applies to society, and while I take time everyday to make sure I've made a difference in this matter, I have lately found myself somewhat pessimistic.

6. Pretending I'm asleep. Every time my roommate walks into the room I pretend I'm asleep. Okay, half of the time my roommate walks into the room I pretend I'm asleep. The other half of the time I actually am asleep. But it's funny. Most of the time I will be at my desk doing something unproductive and I'll hear her key in the door then just pretend like I fell asleep doing work. When I went to my parents' a few weekends ago we had decided to start eating our dinner before my brother because we weren't sure when he'd be arriving. While eating our meals we heard the garage door going up and my parents joined in on my game. Brother walked in the door to his family face down on the table; I think I may have made a heavy breathing sound for an even more realistic effect.

7. Pop culture references. I have a family that values a knowledge of what is currently going on in the world-politically, socially, in literature, in sports, in entertainment- as well as the history of these things. I guess when you're in a family of television producers and writers, as well as educated sports watchers, something is bound to rub off on you.
8. Waking up early. It is amazing the amount of work accomplished when I actually work up the balls to drag myself out of bed. It is quite gratifying.

9. Direct deposit. What a great feeling to check your bank account and there was money magically placed there over night. Don't tell me how it works. You can't. It's just magic.

10. Screaming out my window and hiding. A phenomenon begun last October. It started when OU's unnecessarily legitimate game of Humans vs. Zombies (grown up Nerf wars) began to bother me when I'd get cut off by a paranoid Human running to class. I'm not sure how the game works exactly, but I am sure that I don't like it. Sorry readers who play. Anyways, the Human would walk passed by my window like a dweeb and it took no thought for me to scream ZOMBIE! out at the top of my lungs, only to see their hilarious reaction of assuming the position to shoot. I enjoyed this individual's reaction so much, I proceeded to scream out my window on any old day, crouch down and peek out to see who would try to figure out the source of the noise. Who's the dweeb now, I guess.

11. Dogs. What is not to like? hair? drool? Screw it. Those things are worth the undeniable friendship and impact that my dogs have had on my personality and well-being, even if it means coming home to a couple surprises every one in a while. The feeling of coming home to someone who is authentically excited to see you everyday is one that pwns any drink out of the toilet or chewed up left Sperry.

people observation #15: sometimes we just need to vent.

the other day, I was asked how I feel about the rich being taxed to pay for the poor. How I feel about the rich giving to the poor. I don't know why this is even an issue? I was outraged. I know my writing this will strike one of two things in you: a sort of excitement and HELLYEAHism that causes you to take some sort of action or a case of mumblingunderyourbreathe-ivitis and cynicism. And I know that the odds of one's opinion changing because of this piece are itsy-bitsy. This is more of a refute to an argument I am tired of hearing.

1st off, I don't get how a person could even begin to justify that poor people are poor by their own fault. How it is someone's fault that they are born into a situation with so many strikes against them and no means to lift them up? I had absolutely no control over the world I was born into. I didn't get to go life shopping while I was in the womb. And I realize that had I got a damn lucky hand dealt to me. That means it's my OBLIGATION to provide to those who didn't get to be born into the educated, loving, healthy, white-collar world I showed up in.

2nd of all, even if they were in these situations by their fault, I am a Christian. I am suppose to GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE, and when I'm done doing that? Well, regardless of that person's circumstance or deservedness or family history or sins or life choices or affiliations or work ethic or location or religion or situation or wealth or well-being or health or weight or sexual orientation or level of education or level of graditude or anger or past or future or present or personality type I am suppose to GIVE. Period.

You don't get it. I don't care if they aren't grateful. I don't care if they don't say thank you. I don't care if they won't accept it. I don't care if they're big fat liars and cheat the system. Because as long as I keep giving, I will keep loving, and as long as I keep loving they will keep learning, and one day, just maybe one person will be changed. One person will see that we Christians will get a new perception, and the world could be turned upside-down.

avoid the tray now; your thighs will thank you later.

This post is targeted mostly to those who frequent the college dining hall. It's short, but sweet, like that after dinner ice cream you've grown so very fond of.

We all know the drill: Swipe in. Smell the stench. Ponder for a minute whether or not the line at the wok bar is worth the wait. Decide that it isn't. Pick up at that blue tray and get in line for some fine cuisine.

That blue tray.

My advice to you is to skip this step- to forget the tray. Why? This hunk of flattened plastic is psychologically messing with you, making you think for some reason you need to fill it up. Although we know that if we were anywhere else, one plate of food would make a sufficient meal.

Kelley McArthur is one who has embraced the single-plate lifestyle. "I'm not gonna

ostracize you if you get a bunch of food," she said, "but the truth is you can always go back up and get more if you really want it."

Now, I more than anyone understand that sometimes the components of a dining hall meal are made up of several dishes coming from many locations. You've got your vegetables from the salad bar, fruit from the fruit bar, maybe some soup, maybe a sandwich. It's nice to be able to pick and choose a dish from each area. I see where the tray can be a helpful tool, and I know that it is important to look at quality of food over the quantity. My advice would still be to grab one plate and most of what you need to be eating can fit on that one dish. If there is any

thing extra you'd like to get you can make a second trip.

Conclusion: that damn blue tray. Refrain.

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others. marianne williamson.

people observation #14: some people wait a lifetime for a moment like this

today is a beautiful day. It's 10:00a.m. and almost sixty degrees. I am loving life. Everyone has an extra little skip in their step. It's actually quite cute.

I'm not saying this is all of you guys, but I have already heard complaints...About the weather. Come on folks! The sun is shining. The sky is blue. It's Thursday, and in the world of college that means it's the freakin' weekend baby, I'm about to have me some fun.

What could there possibly be complain about, right?

Take the girl in my 8:00 a.m. class this morning.

[ sidenote: yes, I take 8a.ms. actually, I swear by 8a.ms.
I love waking up with the sunshine and
having a grapefruit and an egg and getting finished
with my days early. Before you judge I encourage
you to try for yourself. Maybe not the grapefruit,
that took getting used to. If my brother is
reading this right now, he's probably cringing.
But 8.ams. Seriously! Scheduling is going on right now.
Do it. Take the leap of faith. I dare you. End sidenote.]

This girl: Maybe she isn't a morning person like me, maybe she's what I call a 'mourning person'. She explained that the weather was "just teasing her" and that it wasn't a funny joke.

Then, I asked the hip gentleman at the coffee place today how he was doing this morning and his response was something along the lines that the weather was just going to be cold next week anyways so why should he get excited?

Really dude? Is that how you want to live your life? Oh, something shitty is just going to happen to me tomorrow so why enjoy today? Oh, my hot coffee is just going to get cold in the next half hour, so why enjoy it now? Oh, I'm just going to go to sleep tonight anyways, so why wake up now? Why should I even freaking live right?
This all reminds me of a section of the book Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. The book, I said. She's explaining how she has a friend who is never able to live in the moment. They'll go somewhere to visit and her friend will be in awe saying, "wow! this place is beautiful! We need to come back here someday!" and Gilbert takes all of her energy into explaining to her friend "honey, you're here right now! Enjoy it while you're here!"

What I'm saying is to just live in the moment. It's as simple as that.

Our minds remember things because memories are great. I have an incredible one. I can remember every school teacher that every person in my graduating class had from 1st grade to senior year. I can remember getting a pair of roller skates, the plastic-strap kind you don't have to take your shoes off for, when I was three years old and living in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. I remember the little things people tell me, and I notice all of the quirks. If you introduce yourself to me, I will remember your name. Why? It's not some special superpower. It's because I take the time, and because at the time that memory was made, I was in the moment. I was soaking it all in. I was living.

These times of being a Power Ranger for Halloween, pretending to eat your vegetables but really just spreading them out on your plate, and taking that plunge off the high-dive are to be celebrated. This period of kissing your "boyfriend" on the cheek at the dance as all your friends watched.. and then running away, period of zits the size of a large horsefly, and slamming your door because nobody "gets you" are to be celebrated. These four years of getting rejected and accepted, proud and humiliated, figuring out who we might actually be, the four years of school spirit, team dinners, ..prom? .. are to be celebrated. These 4-or-so years we spend in college, this period of our life traveling, and learning, and falling in love. It is all to be celebrated.

Look, I'm not saying life isn't hard and it's always going to be kittens and rainbows if you live in the moment. Adversity strikes. Hard times define inevitability. What I am saying is don't take one sunny day, and choose to not celebrate it because the next might not be. The fact that tomorrow might fall under winter's trap of gloom and doom is all the more reason to get excited about today.

Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we may die