The 4th Floor Lobby in the Kansas Union

It's an extremely ordinary place. Have you ever been there?

There are no special features that separate this room much from a regular common room. There are couches and chairs placed amicably about. There are sturdy tables and ottomans, welcoming students to study or read. There is even this darling little drink-stop adjacent to the main seating area. But none of these things really makes the lobby what it is.

I find myself, now, seeing this area more than I had the past two years. I pass this little lobby everyday on my way into work in the Student Leadership and Involvement Center. Since my freshman year at the University of Kansas, I've been in love with this place. Walking past it each day only makes the few hours I spend working that much more enjoyable.

But, what is it's appeal, you may ask. The magic of this room can't quite be described by it's walls, sofas, or beverages, but more by the glow written on the student's faces. Just the other day I witnessed a two-some of friends reunite in the lobby. A seated man lept to his feet upon the entrance of, what I can only assume was, a dear friend. What was even more lovely then his greeting was their embrace, which almost resulted in the both of them being thrown backwards onto the floor. I looked around and saw tables of friends cackling over an  anecdote; a few lonesome souls enjoying their hot drinks and crosswords; even a couple of staff members resounding in the fact that their midterm papers are finally all graded. And not too far from the seating area, someone was playing a soft melody on the grand piano which carelessly floated over the people in the next room. 

In Love Actually, (the best holiday movie there is, in my opinion) Hugh Grant all but soliloquies on his happiest place on earth; the Hethro Airport. Well, whenever I want to think of a place where people are most happy, I think of the 4th floor lobby in the Kansas Union. I've yet to see a group reunite in this lobby with anything but joy in their eyes. I'm sure that for some, this room provides solace from the currently hectic location they call home and that for others, this room is nothing more than a group of chairs where they can relax between a class or two. But even if you're unaware of it, this room is more than just a collection of space sometimes occupied by incoming high school seniors or business fairs. This is the kind of place where even if all of your trials had gone wrong for that particular day and you really were all alone, you could sit down, have a coffee, and feel not quite so lonely; at least for a little while. You can't help but be glad that you are among others, colleagues, friends, who are as equally at a loss for a way to spend their time than to come down and sit in the lobby for a bit.

I implore you to take a moment and visit the 4th floor lobby in the Kansas Union, when you can. If you can't make it today, then go tomorrow. It will always be waiting to welcome you in and offer you a chair. 

"See you later"

How did it get here this quickly? I feel like the summer had to have just started; I can't believe it's ending. But that's how is always is, isn't it? Even as kids, that sneaky labor day weekend catches up with us, and we wish summer was a little longer still.

I find myself tonight, in the midst of packing for my annual migration from my Wichita home to my Lawrence home, that I could take a little bit more of summer. I could have take 10 more summers like this one.

I saw the desert. I smelled like a peach. I climbed a canyon. I ate popcorn. I sang. I swam. I ran. I slept. I loved. I felt the unwelcome hug of Kansas humidity. I felt the relief of ran. I laughed with those who I'll be seeing again soon, and I laughed with those who I will see less and less. I believed. I listened. I drank lots of coffee. I saw sunshine in a window. I ate sunshine in a window. I moved. I danced. I made new friends. I cut my hair. I got a little tan. I read 3 books. I worked 2 jobs. I played with my brother. I started this blog. I gained a cat. I lost a dog. I planned. I unplanned. I packed. I unpacked. And I watched the Kansas sunset more times than I can count.

Tomorrow I begin my journey back to Lawrence, with my trusty side-kick, Kellene. I keep thinking that I should say goodbye; to people and to summer. But it's never goodbye.

It's always "see you later."

Because you never know when you'll be back.

All Hail the Garage Sale!

Sometimes money is tight at a point when you wish it really wasn't, but you just have to keep carrying on. You end up giving up the things you really want and settle for only what you need.

And other times, decor shops like Twigs go out of business and the proprietor decides to donate the remainder of his merchandise to my church garage sale, and you buy $25 worth of fall decorations and apartment apparel.

Two pumpkins, 6 place mats, a (heavy) paper towel rack, and a decorative plate.

Another decorative plate, filled with pretty pine cones and several, soon-to-be-opened, autumn leaves.

4 matching coffee cups (a must!)

6 glass cups (with little ducks frosted on the sides), 2 Halloween pumpkin lumineres (orange and black), and 2 pine cone mugs.

Let's just say, I'm a happy camper.

Shout out to Camille Fittell!! You've spread your Ziploc illness.

The B-word.

Okay, get ready readers, because I'm about to go on a rant.

So I'm doing an after hours shift tonight at Bath and Body Works (the one with the soaps, not Bed Bath and Beyond...very different), and these punk little jerks walk by the store and yell

"YEP, LOOK AT THEM WORKIN BITCHEZ!!!! HAHAHA!"

Um, EXCUUUUUUUSE me?! What did you call me? Get ready, because I'm about to beat you up.
...is what I wanted to say. However, I'm almost 20 now, and I should act like it.

So tomorrow I'm going into Hollister/ Abercrombie/ where ever those stupid boys must have been working, ask for their manager, and report them/ complain.

Suck on that!!! AYEYEYEYEYEYEE!

It is absolutely unacceptable to speak that way to a woman, especially someone you don't even know.
I know that in reality, my petty revenge is unnecessary because this situation is out of my hands, but still. I will not accept that or allow it to happen to me. Not now, not ever.

And you should all do that same.

I Love My Job!

I mean, where else can you buy a Mint Chocolate Chip air freshener in the shape of a hedgehog? Where?

Adorable.

My Love Affair

Don't worry, Mom, this won't be anything racy. ;)

If you know anything about me at all, then you know that I love my college. No, wait, that doesn't quite explain it. A lot of people love their colleges. I think it's more descriptive to say that I'm in love with my college. Seriously. If Kansas University was a boy, and he was single (which he probably wouldn't be) I would drop everything in my life and marry him this very second. That's how in love it with I am.

It was a very instantaneous love, almost a love at first sight (or first sign, if you will).
The moment: Move-in day, August 2009.
I was driving on my way up to Lawrence, parents traveling far, far behind me with the majority of my dorm equipment. Overcome with the length of the drive (which has now become almost second nature to me), I called up my good friend and partner in crime, Elizabeth Najim, who had moved into her own dorm room just days before I did. We giggled, as we usually do, about our lives and she gave me a few stories about what her past week had entailed. I was already excited about going to college, and her friendly voice only made me more anxious to get there. A midst our banter, I noticed a destination sign to my right, reading:

Lawrence: 17 miles

The glaze which had been covering my eyes for the last hour of the 2 and a 1/2 hour trip was instantly gone. Out of no where I was overcome with excitement. I almost felt flustered, and I don't have a clear explanation as to why. I suppose it was due to the thought of you're almost there, you can make it, your independence is eminent, only 17 more miles. To this day, whenever I pass that sign, I get the same feeling inside. It reminds me of the just how in love I am.

My favorite campus sculpture, in front of Lippincott Hall
Credited to Abby Davis

I'm not sure I can ever truly explain what it is that I like so much about KU. I mean, The campus is beautiful, at all times of the year, no less. The history is engulfing; there is an amazing feeling of being preceded by so many great people and so many great accomplishments. The education I'm getting is excellent. It's never a boring place to be. The town of Lawrence has a wonderful amount of charm, so much so that I have considered living there after graduation. The people I've met are incredible, effecting me in ways that I will probably never fully understand or be able to reciprocate. All of these things are great, and combined they are even greater, but they don't define my love for the school.

I guess there is only one way I can describe it: I am exactly where I am meant to be.

Can you think of the last time you've ever felt that way?

I visited a friend's college a while back, a college which I had considered switching to in order to be with her. Her college was spectacular. It was beautiful and grand and very very historic, but none of this couldn't compare to the feeling I got on my morning walk to class, the day I returned home from that very trip. I was fitting into the exact hole reserved for me in the universe, and there is no better feeling than that.

But what can I say, I'm a woman in love.

ROCK CHALK!

Ranting on: Motivation

I would consider myself somewhat of a driven person. I have goals. I have standards. I have routine (most of the time). I definitely don't settle, or if I do I find myself feeling extremely guilty for not meeting my previous "nose-in-the-air" type of requirements.

Does this make me snoody? Probably.
But I'd rather be considered as a snoody person; that annoying little voice in the back of your head asking you "What would your mother say about this," than to be considered a slacker.

I don't have patience for slackers. I don't have enough energy to sit a listen to someone explain why they can't do something. Obviously, they can, they just aren't trying hard enough. I don't have enough time in my day to hear your sob story on why things aren't working out for you. I'm so sorry, try harder.

(Before anyone gets in a theological debate with me, let me say this: I'm not really discussing those in poverty or those in Haiti/ Japan/ other natural disaster areas. That is a whole other discussion. I'm talking about the people who have opportunities, and they squander them. The people who, like me, have several doors open for them. Maybe not all of the doors they want, but some, to say the least.)

Compared to some, I have led a privileged life. I have had to wonderful opportunity of attending a college that I love and that loves me back. I have parents who, if it came right down to it, would drop everything and help me out (emotionally, financially, yada yada yada). I have friends who support me and care for me.

I realize not everyone has this, but so what? I didn't always have these things. I made these things. Plenty of extremely successful people didn't have these things during their journey. I just can't see how some people can use "slacker" as their excuse. "Oh the world just isn't working out for me, I can't do anything about it, so I'm going to waste all of my opportunities because I can, *whine whine whine*."

It is for this (and many other reasons) that I want to become a teacher. I want to kick that stubbornness out of people and show them that they CAN do things far out the zone of their expectations. I never want to hear from someone, especially any of you reading my blog, that you can't do something. Yes you can. You might not know how or what you can do to get there, but your goal can be accomplished.

It's hard work, my friends, but life is hard work. DON'T sit back and allow yourself to settle. You should have a goal, and you should be working everyday to see that that goal is met. I know that I am, and if I can do it, then everyone can do it.

Don't settle.

Originality

Do you ever get that feeling like you are completely unoriginal?

The other night I was examining my closet. Well, not just my closet, but the wardrobe inside my closet. After spending an unusual amount of time looking at my clothes, I was suddenly enveloped by the feeling of unoriginal-ness (is that even a word?).

Every single item I own was something that I found cute on someone else. Nothing in my closet, nothing in my jewelry box, nothing in my shoe tree came to me as an original thought. I even bought a watch yesterday solely because I found cute on someone else (Heather Barney, if you're reading this, it's you).

I feel like I've committed plagiarism. Fashion plagiarism.

What do I do about this? How do I create my own style; my own image? I feel like my Rachel-ness (again, not a word) is just a jumbled hodge-podge of other people's styles. I'm not trying to take anyone else's closet, but I've now come to wonder if there a singular item that in it's existence only personifies me?

Then I got to thinking, what about everything else in my life? My personality (which is heavily influenced by the WB show Gilmore Girls), my interests, my taste in food, my laugh, is any of it really mine? Am I just another drone of existence, hopelessly copying what the media has displayed for me?

And then crazy questions start popping up in my head, like:

Are we all this way?

Is there really any true originality?

Is everyone just copying something cool that they saw on someone else?

And with this, I take a deep breath and a little advice from Natalie Portman.

Aimer

Finally! After much contemplation and persuasion, I've created a public blog. I still don't have a good reason for it; I'm not traveling or beginning anything new, I'm not creating a specific theme such as my college major (Music Education) or hobby, I'm not really even qualified to type publicly to my peers seeing as my grammar, spelling, and story-telling are far below sub-par. Regardless, I clicked "Create New Blog," I chose a template, and now I am writing out my first post.
I hope you all enjoy.

I'm sure the vagueness of my blog's title is perplexing many of you, so I'll go ahead and explain it.

The time is Summer 2010. The place is my living room. The event is the electronic filling-out of my "Getting to Know You" form, which I emailed to the president of my college residence hall promptly afterwards.
The question: "What is your favorite word?"

To be honest, I'd never really thought about it. The first thing that came to mind was the term Perry-winkle, which a certain friend of mine had decided back during our Freshman year of high school, was the cutest word in the English language. But this questionnaire was not asking what I thought was the cutest word. It was asking what was my favorite word. I thought about it for another few minutes when the answer hit me like a ton of bricks. I've studied French for several years (still resulting in an unsuccessful knowledge of the language, by the way), and there is one particular word which I find to be particularly interesting:

Aimer:to like, to be fond of.


One of the first full sentences I learned in French was J'aime le pizza (I like pizza). I should have been studying Italian. For years, I thought the only purpose of the verb was to convey a liking for something. It wasn't until a few years after my pizza infatuation that I found out how much more this word means.

The sentence "I love you" translates into French as Je t'aime. I found myself wondering why it is that the French use this verb and not Adorer, which literally means to love. Why is the phrase not Je t'adore?
The exact reason was never explained fully to me, mostly because I preferred my own solution as opposed to some statement of grammatical history and translation.

I would like to think that the French don't say "I love you" the same way we do in America. They say "I'm fond of you." They literally say "I like you." And wouldn't it be a wonderful thing if people could say "I like you" and mean "I love you"? I don't necessarily mean in a romantic, mushy-gushy kind of way, I'm talking about just stating that you are fond enough of someone or something that saying you love it, is just as easy as saying that you like it. Wouldn't it be great if people could give their love that unconditionally; their hearts?

That is why I like the word aimer. It allows me to express this idea with five simple letters; three of them vowels. If you know anything about me, then you know I appreciate kindness in strangers and the stewardship between neighbors. I was raised to be polite, loving, and kind to people, whether I knew everything about them or nothing about them. And it's not always an easy standard to keep up with, believe me, but I think it's a respectable daily goal.

This world is too harsh and too dark to not try and shine light whenever possible.
That's why I've named this blog "To Like is to Love." I hope that one day everyone can love as easily as they like, and that eventually, they can find their own version of Aimer in their daily lives.

J'aime le pizza. J'aime les hamburgers. Je t'aime. It is, easily, my favorite word.