people observation #9: The cruciverbalist don't know what she got til it's gone.

This is where the story begins: Tuesday morning in Morton hall.I sit on the floor outside of my philosophy class waiting for the previous one to get out. I always have about ten minutes to spare, a perfect time to eat an apple (which by the way will do a better job waking you up than a cup of coffee!) and start on the daily Post Crossword. Literally, my favorite thing to do during my six hours of class everyday is this Crossword. Lame? I think not.

So here I am, skimming through articles. (I don't want admit to being one of those people who pick up the paper JUST for the Crosswords and Sudokus in the back, but I totally am.) I always fold the newspaper nicely into three sections so I can easily pull the crossword out as I'm working on it throughout the day. But on this particular day this is what happens: I get to the back page -and remember guys, this being a newspaper it's probably janked with bad news- I see the worst news in the whole issue; the crossword had been placed in the middle of the fold.

That's right. I had to readjust everything. Pain in the donk.

Call me crazy, but I am not alone. Later that day in US History, I saw the kid three seats over whip out the crossword for a little mid-lecture entertainment, and with a sigh, a similar expression to mine that morning wiped across his face. He was all"who the H laid out this page? What were they thinking?"

I gotta tell you three-seats-over kid, clearly, the answer to your question is that they were not thinking. So next thing Greg sitting next to me leaned over and told me about his internship at a newspaper this summer. He said that the day the publication received the most complaining phone calls was the day somebody had moved the crossword onto the fold.

At that moment, I was embarrassed. Like, was I really wasting my energy on a complaint so stupid as the placement of the crossword puzzle in the school newspaper? Really, Erin? The CROSSWORD PUZZLE? Like you couldn't find anything better to complain about? The clouds? The heat?

Well, I've made this point in a previous post that complaining is something I hate, and I can't help but stress that it's something we all do. Sure, the crossword is the one thing in my day that I can call a part of a routine. My life is jam-packed full of a beautiful brand of spontaneity, and as much as I love it, I'm an American too, which means I like my same-old same routine. I just think sometimes we like our little daily quirks, and god forbid the inevitable change messes that up, right? Wrong. I love the quote, "the only constant in life is change." Because it is so true, and the more we can understand that, the more we can fall in love with it.

So I stopped myself from calling and complaining to the Post that day. I can assure you though somebody noticed; the placement of Wednesday's crossword was the best damn layout I ever did see. Sudoku and Crossword on the same. side. of. the. page. All I gotta say is Amen.

people observation #8: music is memories.

I sit down to list some of my favorite songs, and realize they are more important to me because of the memory that they hold than the actual grace of the notes themselves. Five examples:

1. Thunder Road - Bruce Springsteen reminds me of blasting the song with my father, always messing up the lyrics, singing it, correction, screaming it in North Carolina while using the dash as a keyboard.

2. Wonder - Natalie Merchant: practicing my vocals, wishing I could sing like Natalie, hearing this song at Mad River Mountain on some of my favorite high school snowboarding weeknights with my best friend.

3. Lazy Eye- Silver Sun Pickups reminds me of my junior year in highschool, just first meeting someone, and hearing this song everywhere we went.

4. One Love - U2: Not only do I absolutely adore this song and what it means, this one reminds me of first loves, as well as my mother and how it's her favorite u2 song. Every mix I have ever made for my mom has included this song on it.

5. Scar Tissue - Red Hot Chili Peppers: Driving around with my babysitter Sarah, this was just one of the many 90s-early 00s songs that I know and love thanks to her. I remember this song specifically because we had no idea what exactly the chorus was saying and all had our own personal renditions of "with the birds I'll share this lonely view"

people observation #6: we have nothing in common, so of course I can decide for myself exactly how you feel.

I am currently reading an awesome piece by Cornel West, Democracy Matters. West makes an excellent point that I think many Americans fail to grasp:

The United States was designed with the democratic ideology and, subsequently, capitalism. The problem is that our participation in the free market and democratic processes should be separate things. When one participates in the market, he is thinking about what he wants, how he can earn that extra penny, and what food to put on his table. The idea of the voting booth is that one goes there to think of the whole, and he or she looks at which issue to vote on that would be best for the country or community.

The problem: people bring their market minds to the voting booth. They ask themselves, how can this issue help me? Is this going to raise my taxes? The problem with this is that we get a selfish nation, nihilistic and pessimistic, where government becomes a part of the market, with lobbyists and campaigns running completely on a spending platform.

When we go to the voting booth (which not participating in is a slap in the face to so many countries and people I can't even begin to count) we need to understand the process of what we're doing. It is taking part in an idea that asks what is best for society. In times of economic trouble, regardless of how great ones business may be doing, one cannot go wondering whether their taxes will be raised, but instead vote on representatives that have the experience, knowledge, and ideas to help all citizens get out of the hard times.

I am so sick of votes being swayed by a simple idea that taxes may rise. I refuse to believe this inevitable; there are so many more important things that citizens need to know.

With the knowledge of another's suffering comes compassion, and I believe that the reason America has such trouble deciding which is right to vote for, rather than which is the most economically good for me, is because Americans are simply unaware of the problems that those unlike them are experiencing. Take the middle class for example. Middle class Americans are notorious for blaming both the rich and poor for not working enough. They hear stories of the Cincinnati mother who has rigged the welfare system, drives a pink cadillac, and gets her nails done four times a week. They hear stories of rich corporate tycoons who spend weeks at a time on their yachts in the Virgin Islands and hire a bunch of other people to do the work for them. These, however, are not the rules, but they are outliers! Most of the Americans on welfare also have jobs, many of them two or three. Middle class Americans, whose families have been middle class for generations cannot physically understand because they are not in that situation. What they can do is get to know someone in a different situation, learn about those people, and guaranteed comes the compassion they deserve. Many people turn a blind eye to those suffering here in the United States because they know that if they knew about it, they would become uncomfortable.

Unless going through the same situation as another, empathy is impossible to experience. I am a white middle class girl. I will never know what it is like to be black or gay or a man. But I can learn from history and from others' different situations, I can understand that I do have a huge privilege, and I can speak for those who do not have a voice. If we take what we learn and our compassion for others to the voting booth, instead of our market minds, the gears of democracy can begin to turn in the way that they were originally intended to run, for all of its people.

lucky me.

it is my first day of my summer job and I couldn't ask for a better opportunity nannying some really great kids.

Reasons for my optimism:

• My best friend is the babysitter of people down the street, and the kids are friends. Lucky me.
• The kids are not picky eaters. I just made one a big salad with carrots and grape tomatoes and balsamic vinagrette dressing. The other isn't a big meat eater, but makes up for it with her undying love for black beans. Amen for not picky kids!
• I am so blessed to have a job right now. Some people who have gone to college and beyond don't have jobs right now. Lucky me.
• Every morning I get here early about an hour before the kids wake up. This forces me to be awake in a silent house. Coming from someone who, this past year, got five minutes of alone time every three weeks. I am so excited for a daily devotional and time spent with the Lord.

Couldn't think of a complaint.

people observation #5: ...and so she admits it; she's a cold hearted bitch.

Look, don't get me wrong, I know that people in this world are selfish, and I spend every single day of my life trying to prove to myself that we are not all selfish, but sometimes it just isn't so easy.

Here I am. I love people! Love em! I love smiling at them, and asking how they're doing, and I love hearing what they have been up to or what their lives are like. I spend countless hours working to help others, even contemplating whether my being here at college as too selfish or preparing me to perform some greater good down the road.

I can't take the idea that this is a world of every person for him or herself, and I have no understanding, I have no mental capacity to fathom, the idea that anyone would sincerely believe the world was all about them.

In political theory yesterday, someone explained to us that she wholeheartedly believed other people's problems to be ones that she would never be able to help out with. And I quote, "Maybe I'm just a cold hearted bitch, but we're really all here for ourselves," She continued to explain to us that even if her very best friend needed a place to stay, or a month's rent, even if she had the money, she couldn't help her out because it wasn't her problem. I have never been so appalled in my life.

We're young! We're in college! We're hopeful! We're suppose to look cynicism like this in the face and tell it to shut the hell up! I can't imagine how different my life would be if I had this kind of attitude. Oh, litter, I'm not gonna pick you up, someone else's problem. Oh, high schooler, I'm not gonna worry about your addictions, that's your problem. Oh, grandpa, I'm not gonna worry about your sickness, not my problem. (not my chair, not my problem..I always say) I can tell you that the incredible people I have been able to learn from all across this country would not be. I can tell you that the nine months I have been away from my boyfriend would not be. and I can tell you that the incredibly loving relationship that I have been blessed to have with my family sure as hell would not be.

I cannot imagine being here simply to help myself. I cannot imagine my political beliefs to be an ideology based on which one would help myself. It's not about me. What I'm saying is that I came to college for a greater opportunity to make a difference in the world. I'm here because someday I am going to have some skills of use, that can help somebody somewhere with something. Vague? Good. Because you can do it too.

We have been told we cannot do this by a chorus of cynics. They will only grow louder and more dissonant in the weeks to come. We've been asked to pause for a reality check; we've been warned against offering the people of this nation false hope. But in the unlikely story that is America, there has never been anything false about hope. barackobama.

stream of consciousness, stream of CONSCIENCE.

you cannot sit in your white house of comfortability.

not when those who pass by don't know what you do.

you cannot sit and judge someone who "doesn't know jesus"

because clearly you must have forgotten who you are.

We all have different gifts,

and the fact that I am busy outside meeting god's beautiful children,

being a light to a dark world,

the mouth that cannot quote the words to perfection is still loved, and beautiful,

and belongs to a good person.

i have been given a gift of being able to love everyone. not those like me. those not like me. those not like you.

hide it under a bushel? no. I'm gonna let it shine.

i can no longer dwell in my fears of being judged,

at the very least,

by the ones who I thought were the judge-less.

our bodies are beautiful,

our brains our beautiful,

our inevitably different grasp of the ways of the world..why, that's beautiful too.

the ultimate beautiful.

I can no longer sit as the gossip continues,

I am a doer.

I am ready to do.

We have been assigned a position of serving those around us,

and this does not confine us to the schools of the county.

nobody said that we had a quota to meet,

that we couldn't work overtime,

that we couldn't smile at the house two doors down.

there are people starving in our own closer backyards,

and you sit on your couch and glare.

"they don't know jesus".... as if there were nothing you could do.

people observation #4: We are happy.

I love the days here at college when the sun comes out for the first weeks and everyone is outside smiling.

I can pass people and smile at them like I do on a daily basis and I don't get looked at like I am a boob. I get looked at like, "today is sunny and we both share this joy which gives me grounds to smile back

to you."

I play a game that I learned a while back from my grandmother. She would try and see how many people she could make smile in the amount

of time she had with the stranger. At work, this is easy. Every person that comes in is someone I can say hello to and ask how they are doing. I look at them in the eyes and I smile to them. It isn't creepy if you're being sincere, and frankly, people love it.

Smiles are contagious.

people observation #3: you know who you are.

My brother and I were recently discussing the irritating people we encounter on a day to day basis in our classes. Only two days in, I can tell you that the roster for my spring quarter is already irking my drawers. The problem of the annoying classmate is an epidemic that has struck colleges for years. They come in all shapes and sizes, and their weapons can range from talking too much to not showering enough. I give you my diagnoses:

• The know it all: This person's hand is in the air every question asked, and ofcourse, they have a very logical response to it. I know it's good for your ego, but let somebody else give the question a stab for once, at least ONCE.

• The Distracter: I am already distracted enough as it is. There are so many things that are easy to control, but hard for others not to watch. To name a few there's the gum chomper, the kid who talks to the person behind them, laptop movie kid, laptop facebook kid, laptop bejeweled kid, Smelly Dude, Texts McGee, etc. Just try to be aware of your classmates, Maybe start taking a shower twice a week instead of once a month, and I know they're nervous habits, but for the love of God, please keep the foot twitching, chair bouncing, and pencil tapping to a bare minimum.

• Kid that extrapolates their own personal experiences and tiny worldview to explain an entire history or event being discussed: self-explanatory. Get some observation goggles. There's a whole world out there, and just because your father knows a guy who etc., etc., etc., doesn't make it the rule.

• I'm the only one in this class person: He or she asks questions as if they are the only one in the entire class. "Hey Prof, did you get my email?" or "I'm not gonna be here tomorrow is there anything I need to do?" I'll give you something you need to do: take off your blinders; there's 300 of us in here.

• Loud Conversation Group: The people who sit and discuss their dumb philosophies, fest-filled weekends, or latest vom incident. Chat all you want, but I shouldn't be able to hear your embarrassing stories from the classroom next door.

• Question Girl: Finds any excuse to ask a question. Wants the teacher to recognize and know her, but moreover, she wants the class to recognize and know her. Question Girl is the first cousin of Tell Dumb Stories Boy.

• isthisgonnabeonthetest kid:This student will never participate in class discussions. They will only raise their hands to ask the professor one thing: Is this gonna be on the test? Asking this question shows much about you. Not only, does it tell the professor you couldn't care less about their class, it tells them you care even less about your true learning Word up to these kids, your professors hate you.

There was a student in my politics class last quarter who was the perfect example of a good classmate. He was smart. He knew his crap. He could have easily answered every question brought up in class, but he didn't. Then, when he did answer, it wasn't bull shit. It was logic and reasoning, examples and intelligent wording; the kid practically sung his answers in perfect tune. It is because he knew we'd have to spend the next two hours with him, and being an idiot wouldn't help the situation.

Folks, I suggest you take this student's example, and be considerate of the others in your classes. You don't have to know everything and you don't have to tell all 500 of us how awesome you are. If you do the work, share what you know when the professor asks this of you. Otherwise, pay attention to them because, who knows, maybe you'll learn something.