Sometimes there’s so much I want to tell you, but I’m not sure how to start.
Sometimes there are weeks I stare at a blank Word document and have nothing to say.
Sometimes I’m afraid to type into that blank document because not everyone would be interested.
Sometimes I do it anyway.
Sometimes….

There are a lot of “Sometimes” in our lives. Not every one is pretty, and not every one dictates what we will ultimately do. It’s up to us to take those “Sometimes” and make them beautiful, make them count, make them worth our worries, heartache, and even hope.
As this year winds down, I’m left thinking about last year’s adventures and memories and wondering if 5 years from now I’ll be able to remember this year just as clearly. That the “Sometimes” of this year became an “Always” or maybe a “Never Again.” That the “Sometimes” helped me learn, grow, and become a better person. You are part of my “Sometimes.” And I really want to say Thank You.

Writing to you has been an experience I will never forget. It’s this weird combination of a journal entry, a college paper, a note to a professor, a biography, a recipe, and a letter to a friend. You’ve let me be myself in my writing, and for those who know me in person, thank you for letting me be myself everywhere else.

I have to say, I didn’t think I’d open up as much as I have, and I definitely didn’t think I’d write as much as I did. Can you believe this is my 40th post?!? Just..wow. Your encouragement and commentary have truly helped contribute to that.

I’m sure you know where this post is going. This is the end. Finals begin tomorrow. All my brain power and energy will be dedicated to Philosophy, Italian, Microeconomics, English, and Printmaking. Well, there may be a couple movies in there, some hanging out with friends, and a good dose of procrastination on Sunday (I do not want to face the reality of packing).

But I’ll be back! Come August I’ll be in Ireland, by September I’ll be choosing between Geography and Imagination in Antiquity and the Middle Ages and Ireland and the Beginnings of Europe for my upper-level history class. Somewhere in there I’ll start writing to you again, blogging from the Emerald Isle.

So, I guess this is where I say goodbye. I’m really going to miss this though. Maybe I’ll write for myself over the summer, like my friend Ben. Maybe not. But no matter what I do, I’m looking forward to sharing it with you in the future.

To fellow students: Good luck on your exams! To professors: I hope you have a relaxing break and good luck grading all those exams! To parents: Thank you for sticking with me and I hope you also have a relaxing time with your family. To any and all in between: Have a wonderful summer and many adventures!

Yet again, I have to apologize for not writing in a while. Finals are approaching and the weeks preceding them are often more packed than the exam week itself. Between papers, normal homework, projects, art pieces, final club meetings, awards ceremonies, and last attempts to enjoy Baltimore, students get caught in the riptide of life and have to put some things on hold.

But, I’m back now! For a little while at least. I want to write to you guys one or two more times before exams hit and before I know it I’m back in New Jersey.

Ah, New Jersey, home of the nasal “a” and dropped “t”s, pork roll (aka Taylor Ham), some of the most gorgeous state parks and top universities, American Revolution landmarks, and, well, my life for the past 20 years.

When I think about my previous summers in NJ, my most distinctive and pleasurable memories are those when I’m curled up with a good book. I’d find a good spot on the front porch, maybe the lawn if I felt like I could hazard getting some sun, or if it was super hot I’d stay in the air conditioning. And I’d just read. I’d get lost in a different world, become a different person, forget about all the problems and worries I had in the real world for just a few hours. I’d become best friends with the characters. If I read right before I went to sleep, sometimes I’d dream of the ending or the next chapter (though I don’t think my dreams were ever accurate). It was beautiful.

I think it’s amazing when you meet someone who has that connection to books, or a certain character, or anything really, that gets them so excited they can just rant and you understand each other because of shared enthusiasm. Last week I met someone like this, not on campus per say, but in my homework for English class. We just read Mr. Pip, a novel by Lloyd Jones about the life of a village during the political upheaval of the 1990s in Papua New Guinea. The children on the island are read Great Expectations, another book we read in my English class. I don’t want to say too much because it’s a wonderful read and one of those books that makes you see the world differently. But the narrator described that connection with literature perfectly.

“By the time Mr. Watts reached the end of chapter one I felt like I had been spoken to by this boy Pip. I had found a new friend. The surprising thing is where I found him – not up a tree or sulking in the shade, or splashing in one of the hill streams, but in a book. No one had told us kids to look there for a friend. Or that you could slip inside the skin of another. Or travel to another place…”

That. That right there. That’s what the best books have. Friends. Well, sometimes the most brutal enemies, too. I don’t think I’d ever been more upset when I read The Order of the Phoenix, or The Book Thief, or The Hunger Games, or The Fault in Our Stars, or even the Elegance of the Hedgehog. As much as I hate characters dying in books, I think that’s what makes you appreciate them so much more. They had something to tell you, something to share, and maybe they couldn’t share it in their world, but they got through to you. You learn something new with every book you read.

And this summer I intend to learn a lot. I’m compiling a list of books I want to get through, make a schedule plan so I can actually pace myself and remember what I’ve read. So far, I’ve got Beowulf (In modern and Old English), The Canterbury Tales, Gray’s Anatomy (there will be a lot of sketching involved with that), Good Wives, The Beauty Myth, The Picture of Dorian Gray, The Girl with the Pearl Earring, Are Men Necessary? When Sexes Collide, Merlin (started in December, haven’t finished it yet), Storm of Swords, The Help, the list will grow I am sure.

In fact, help me make it longer. If you have a must-read, a cry-your-eyes-out-but-love-it-anyway, a mystery, a romance, an anything, let me know! Comment, message, email. I’ll put it on my list.

This summer is going to be good, that I am determined to make possible, but these books will make it fantastic.

I think I made what is to be one of my favorite college memories last night. It was one of those moments when you can step out of yourself and say “This. This is what I’m living for. And I don’t want it to end.” Of course it does, but now you have a snapshot of that one particular moment with that one particular set of feelings and that one particular smile of pure contentment playing on your lips.

Before I tell you what it was that had me loving life, I should probably give you some context before you think all I do is cook and partake in other house-wifey duties. I should also mention that this relates to my future plans for next year.

I know I’ve written that I have a sister, Curran, but I don’t think you know much more other than there’s 13 years between us and she is now raising a beautiful family with her husband Tim in Massachusetts. I didn’t get to visit her very frequently during high school, and I get to even less now that I’m in Maryland. However, since starting college, I’ve begun the practice of visiting her for about a week in the summer and winter. Those visits are truly a change of scene that I wouldn’t give up for the world.

In the winter we sit in front of a crackling fire and sip hot cider while reading books after the kids have gone to bed. In the summer we go to children’s museums in the day and concerts in the park at night. But no matter the season we always cook together. Curran has her own garden and a farm share to supply fresh vegetables and herbs; I swear it tastes different from what you buy in the store. When we start a recipe from her arsenal of cookbooks, I always end up learning something new about the art of cooking. From a faster way to chop onions to the proper order of making pesto, she makes these lessons family memories.

This is due in part to the conversations we have and the music we listen to, but the best thing we share during these bonding sessions is Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me. Yes, I know, I’ve mentioned it before, but it’s something that has become a family past time. As we mince garlic and wash lettuce, we try to guess the Listener Limerick and always have a good laugh when Paula Poundstone is on the show.

And as of last night, I was able to share this experience with my roommate Erin. After an exhausting week we wanted to keep our Friday night relaxing, so I made homemade spaghetti sauce with fettuccine for dinner. Instead of playing my usual cooking playlist and dancing along, or Erin watching Doctor Who in our bedroom, we enjoyed each others’ company in the kitchen. And listened to Wait Wait.

As I stirred the sauce, I looked over to see Erin laughing at Peter Sagal’s commentary while playing her 3DS, the warm light creating a comforting glow, and our future dinner filling the room with a tantalizing aroma. That’s when it happened. That moment of happiness: a sense of belonging based on the trust of friendship and the sharing of interests.

Now, as to how this could possibly have anything to do with my future plans, well…next semester Erin and I are embarking on an adventure. We’ll be leaving family and friends (though I’m sure we’ll make some new ones) to study abroad in Cork, Ireland! We’ve agreed not to be direct roommates for that time, but it’s reassuring to know she’ll still be there with me. To say I’m excited to share new experiences and make new memories would be the biggest understatement of the year. I am beyond excited.

I am impassioned, thrilled, wild, ecstatic; basically every possible adjective that could express happiness at this wonderful opportunity to learn about a new culture and make some amazing memories with one of my good friends.

You know those days that are so good that nothing can get you down? Everything is good: the weather, your lunch, the people you see & talk to, the lit exam you had that morning, you even feel great in your body.

Spring is officially here on the Evergreen campus.

I’m in such a good mood I’m even listening to Marry You by Bruno Mars!

Yeah, sure, the weather has a lot to do with it, but I think my very positive view of the world comes from some recent accomplishments I’ve been keeping from you guys (this blog isn’t supposed to be about me so much as the school, anyway). But I figured it should probably be known that Loyola really does honor students who put in a lot of time and effort into their work.

The first of these “nice things” that have been happening the past week is the phenomenal support I’ve been getting from you amazing readers. From a father whose daughter is looking at Loyola and has asked me some great questions to the senior who just told me he enjoys reading my work to the professors who compliment my style and ask if I’ve considered taking a class in their departments. Thank you all. You keep my spirits up and allow me to truly speak my mind. You are part of this blog just as much as I am.

Going along with this theme of recognition is the publication of The Forum, the school’s non-fiction literary book featuring the winners of the First Year Essay contest and other class writings. Last year I wrote a paper on how college campus stereotyping can have a greater influence on future social choices than we expect. As proud as I am to have tied for fourth place, I’m even more proud to say that I know the first place winner, Chandler Zolliecoffer. Her piece on self perception and personal development in the African American community through the role of her hair was amazing. Her mature writing style and combination of personal anecdotes make a riveting expository paper. I was lucky enough to take a photography class with her last year and her art pieces were just as stunning as her writing.

Loyola doesn’t just publish wonderful writers, but also displays student artwork in the annual student show in the Julio Fine Arts Gallery. As I walked by the gallery today to get lunch at boulder, I saw my cyborg piece from last semester’s Life Drawing class front and center. I’m pretty sure I was grinning non-stop for the rest of the walk through the College Center. However, as cool as it is that one of my pieces in the show, I can’t wait to see my fellow students’ work. My friends Christine and Amanda have some spectacular drawings and prints from their classes this year, and as seniors I know they’re going to excel in the art world after graduation.

It’s getting pretty warm out here on the Humanities porch and I’m pretty sure I’m sunburned (even though I’ve only been out here for an hour or so), but there’s one more thing I want to mention about Loyola’s tradition of celebrating students’ successes.

Weekend before last was the annual Dean’s List luncheon, an hour or two of good food, inspiring speeches, and much gratitude given to students and parents alike. To make Dean’s List, a student must maintain a GPA of 3.5 and take 15 credits each semester. Given that most, if not all, courses at Loyola are challenging in one way or another, earning this achievement is a huge confidence booster. As I looked around at the tables surrounding me at the lunch, I saw many familiar faces: friends, classmates, even students I see on my breaks between classes. It’s comforting to know there are so many people here who care about the intellectual spirit of the school and dedicate so much of their time to learning not just for the grade, but for the sake of knowledge itself.

So now that it’s about 75 degrees and my computer is uncomfortably warm on my slightly pink legs, I think it’s time for me to cool off with a cold drink inside. I’ll make sure to end this beautiful day with a bang though!

First, click here.

Now, envision yourself cooking a delicious meal. You wash the vegetables, peel, dice, sway to the music. Spinning expertly to get a new knife, you pull open the drawer, 1, 2, 3, pick it up, conduct the orchestra, close the drawer with your hip, spin, slide, resume chopping onions. Brown the meat, spice it up with thyme and lemon pepper, shake shake here, shake shake there, Oh fly me to the moon!

Or, if cooking doesn’t suit your fancy…

You’ve got a blank canvas before you, paints to your right, paper towels and water to your left, paintbrush in hand. Closing your eyes, you let the music paint a picture for you: an explosion of color, the voices of trombones and trumpets, lines and zig zags, the steady beat of the drums. You conduct the musicians with your brushstrokes. Dab, swirl, dot dot, loooong stroke, dab.

For me, part of the creative process involves music. From cooking, to painting, to writing, my concentration is aided by background rhythm and pure instrumentals. But not all creative processes are the same.

For instance, I know that when I paint with my friend Elissa on Friday, we will not be listening to my study session music! It’ll be something to get us through painting mural pieces for her senior project.

Which is actually what I wanted to talk about tonight (though music is cool too!).

Let me start by saying this: Part of being an art major or minor means putting together the equivalent of a senior thesis, but instead of it being a giant paper, it’s a gallery show, or in Elissa’s case, an instillation mural on York Road.

She and another friend of mine, Christine, have spent the past few months assembling the pieces of the mural and with the help of various friends have started to paint it. The mural itself is on six 5’4’ plywood boards that will be set up in the windows of the Verizon building.

Last week the Urban Art club helped prime the back of the boards so they wouldn’t warp.

This week, I’ll be helping paint the mural (can’t wait to break out my painting pants!)

I’m actually really excited to work on this, because 1) I love painting (on any scale) 2) I don’t often have time to do service, so it’s nice to have something that I can fit into my schedule for once 3) This will be me one day, so I’m gaining a new perspective in how to plan my future project.

But most of all, I’m looking forward to doing this because of the people. Working with fellow students on something like this adds a new dimension to your understanding of them and the people it will eventually affect. No matter what Elissa and I end up listening to, or talking about, when we paint, I know I’ll enjoy her company and the simple act of spreading color on a blank canvas.

The unveiling is on April 26 at 5 p.m. in front of the Verizon building.

I feel like I haven’t been writing as much this semester as I used to. It’s probably safe to say it has something to do with the increased workload – both in the classroom and in the activities I’m involved in on campus. But, hectic schedule aside, I plan to make more of an effort in writing to you guys. So, I figured, what better place to do so than on the ride back to school after Easter break? A good 2.5 hour drive, a bag of Chex Mix, and the Riverdance soundtrack keeping my mom and me entertained. Yep, even getting stuck in Philly traffic provides an opportunity to admire the multitude of church steeples we drive past.

Church steeples…Church…Spirituality….If there’s one topic I haven’t really talked about on here, it would have to be the Catholic/Jesuit tradition at Loyola and the role it plays in shaping the student body both in and out of the classroom. And honestly, that’s a very complicated topic to address.

Sure, it’s easy to point out that Loyola’s core requires students to take 2 Theology classes, and one of the key community organizations is Campus Ministry, but there’s more to the individual’s exposure to religion than that.

Personally, I was raised Catholic and am currently…not sure. I’ve been told that my moral/ethical values align strongly with Catholic thought, but my societal views cause me to question some of the Catholic teachings. That isn’t to say that I’ve ever felt out of place or uncomfortable at a Jesuit school with the student body being mostly Catholic.

If anything, I’ve felt accepted here.

Both by students and faculty members, no matter their department. Some of my friends are Catholic, some atheist, some protestant, and some are everywhere in between and beyond. I’ve been able to have debates about the existence of God without feeling uncomfortable with them, either during or after. The professors I’ve encountered encourage questioning and a search for meaning in life, even if it isn’t strictly Jesuit or Catholic in the end. In this regard, there aren’t boundaries or restrictions to spirituality at Loyola.

Yes, there’s a chapel on campus, but no, I don’t feel its presence looming over me. At Christmas it hosts Lessons and Carols, one of the school’s well known and much anticipated traditions (good luck finding a seat, it’s packed within 15 minutes of the doors opening). Year round you can see alumni wedding parties arriving or taking pictures on the quad.

But even with a heavy emphasis on religious tradition, I’ve never felt like Jesuit teaching was shoved down my throat. True, it’s a big part of the campus culture: service, core values and classes, care of the whole person, insert school catch phrases here. But these are what make Loyola appealing, and I think define the school itself. Personal spirituality helps the transition into college and the progression through it, but it isn’t required.

So to those of you who wonder (and I promise I’ve been asked this), Is being Catholic required to enjoy the Loyola experience? I say No, But learning about Jesuit values shapes the way you think and interact with the world around you.

Remember that group of friends I meet up with to talk about authenticity? How we’re working on a program for first years to talk about the questions we all face in school about self-awareness and acceptance? How hard it is to ask someone questions and be willing to answer their own?

Well, we had another meeting last week. But beforehand we watched a video that not only reaffirmed our plan of action, but for me, led to deeper thinking and reevaluation of how I see myself.

For those of you who don’t want to watch the talk by Dr. Brené Brown (it’s a bit long, but I promise it’s worth it), I’ll give a few quotes that have been floating through my head all week:

“Courage…is to tell the story of who you are with your whole heart. Courage is to be imperfect. It’s the compassion to be kind to yourself and then to others.”

“Authenticity is letting go of who you think you should be to be who you are.”

“Vulnerability is the ability to be seen. It’s the willingness to do something that has no guarantees. It’s the core of shame and fear and our struggle to find worthiness, but it appears it’s also the birthplace of joy, of creativity, of belonging, of love.”

Those three words, courage, authenticity, and vulnerability, plagued me after watching and discussing the video. It seemed that everywhere I went, everyone I listened to, those words popped up in the conversation. It was like a radio had been turned on in my head and I kept picking up one clear signal. The other stations in my life were staticky and only came in when one of those words or phrases were used.

I’m not saying I was getting a divine message or anything, it just so happened that I watched the video during a week full of self-doubt and questioning of my future.

Take Dr. Brown’s idea of courage, for example. To be imperfect. To be kind to yourself. Now those are two very hard tasks. It’s so easy to be down on yourself and strive for perfection. There’s a stereotype at Loyola that the perfect student has a 3.5+ GPA, is president of at least 2 clubs, does service on a regular basis, maintains healthy eating habits/works out at the FAC, gets along well with all professors, earns high achievement in their major, and somehow always looks composed. Sadly, there’s a ring of truth to the image, even if an individual only qualifies for some of the above. I know I put a huge amount of pressure on myself to do well in school and in the community. But sometimes the amount of stress that leads to is more negative than positive.

I know I’ve talked about authenticity before, but Dr. Brown phrased it perfectly. Authenticity is about knowing yourself and accepting yourself, no matter the imperfections, fears, and doubts you face every day. It’s not about thinking so much as being. It’s taking down your walls to be who you are, even though you might risk everything.

Taking that risk is being vulnerable, and man did Dr. Brown get me with that one! I hate being vulnerable. I hate showing I’m weak. When I was little I taught myself to not be ticklish because, in a sense, it showed weakness.

Today, as a young adult, vulnerability is my greatest adversary, but I’m learning how to make it work for me. This blog is a way I get over my vulnerability. I’m allowing myself to be seen, sometimes by people I’ve never met before, and maybe never will. I’m opening up on paper, which is one step closer to opening up in person. I’m trying to do things that have no guarantees, like studying abroad for a semester and getting into a relationship. Well, there are certain things I know will happen with both of those cases, but I don’t know how they’ll change me in the end.

If you’re wondering why I’m writing about this in the first place, I have two reasons. The first: I write about what happens in my life, specifically ideas and things I’m passionate about. This is one of them. Second: I think these topics can be explored more fully at Loyola, and the discussion is necessary to create a stronger community.

Dr. Brown closed with this:

“How do we fix this [disconnect]? Let ourselves be seen. Love with our whole hearts. Practice gratitude & joy in those moments of passion. To feel so vulnerable means we’re alive. To believe we’re enough.”

It starts with a twinge. Just a little twinge. And then a nip. Just a little nip that turns into a nibble. This nibble starts you moving, your meandering pace turning into a quick trot. You catch a glimpse of your pursuer in your peripheral vision. A shadow no longer biting at your heels but matching your hurried walk with ease. You pick up the pace and gain a few yards. Looking back, you can see that the shadow has turned into a substantive form and is now loping in your wake, strengthened by your anxiety. You break into a sprint, trying to shake the growling beast that is determined to bring you down. Fear grips you, things claw at you as you speed past, shredding every last bit of confidence while unidentifiable objects pull down your spirit. You aren’t going to last much longer. The beast is breathing goosebumps onto your neck and there is nowhere to hide, no place to go but forward. Always forward.

We all know this beast. Some of us more than others. But by the time we get out of high school we’ve dealt with it a few times and probably had a few close calls. This fiend that pursues us even in the most pleasurable of pursuits is stress.

And in a college student’s life, there’s a lot of it. From course work to jobs to sports to clubs to personal relationships, stress is part of the daily routine. There’s a difference, though, between being stressed in a healthy way, and having stress take over your life. The line between the two becomes increasingly hard to maintain, and as I look around me at freshmen wrapping up their first year of college, sophomores sorting out majors and minors, juniors searching for internships, and seniors getting ready to graduate, I see that line erase completely.

Why does this all matter you might ask? Well, besides the almost universal change-in-attitude-affect, people can also have physical side affects from stress. When I switched from homeschooling to a public high school, my stress level increased dramatically and I thought I was handling it pretty well…until my immune system rebelled against me and I developed a mild form of atopic dermatitis and alopecia. So not fun. But eventually I got a handle on it. I changed some of my routines and learned how to manage my stress levels. And I’m still learning, since college is a completely different environment from high school.

If you’re reading this and getting freaked out because a) you’re in high school,  b) you’re in college and you aren’t stressed or c) you’re a parent of a current or future college student, don’t be! (You’re probably snorting in disbelief right now, I mean, what was that first paragraph for, right?) I’m serious. When I was in high school I was told “College is so much easier,” and “If you’re succeeding under pressure now, you’ll be fine in college,” and I didn’t believe it. How could college be any easier and how could the stress lessen in any way?

I don’t have an exact answer, but it does. Maybe it has to do with your age, maybe there’s a mental advancement in compartmentalizing, or maybe you just know yourself better. No matter how, and no matter why, stress in the life of a college student is always present, but it’s always manageable.

In case you don’t believe me, and that beast is breathing down your neck, here are some tips to avoid or deal with stress while at Loyola:

1. Breathe. Whether it’s meditation or just closing your eyes and inhaling slowly, it’s always good to take a step back and look at the bigger picture.
2. Make a plan. Instead of blundering ahead blindly and hoping your luck will hold out, write down what you want to do and when you want to complete it. Setting goals makes the process more rewarding and easier to handle.
3. Sleep. Chances are if you’re super stressed, you’re not getting enough sleep. I’m a big believer in the 10 minute power naps that pick me up at 1am. You’ll get through those 20+ pages of reading faster and write that paper better if you have a little sleep under your belt.
4. Talk to someone (or several someones). Venting about stress is a good way to relieve it. Find someone who doesn’t mind you freaking out for 15 minutes so you can get it out of your system. Hopefully they can do the same with you!
5. Allow for some “Me” time. Take a walk. Do something creative (it uses a different part of your brain from analytical thought). Sing in the shower. Being on your own can really clear your head and shake that feeling of being pursued by constant anxiety.

Ready…Set…Wait for it…GO!!!!

And they’re off! Spring break has begun! Fresh air! More sleep! No homework! Freedom!

Well, kind of. By the time this is published, some students will be on their way home and others will be chomping at the bit to finish their last midterm. And, ok, fine, maybe I won’t get that much more sleep, and I know I have homework, but the fresh air and relative freedom still stands.

I say “relative” because I know my time isn’t truly my own. I’ll be running around, being enjoyably busy, and I know I’m not the only one. Loyola students tend to be fairly active during the week away from school. During my talks with friends I’ve heard some pretty interesting stuff. Here are a few of my favorites:

Thanks to the ease of travel in Baltimore, my friend Mary is flying out to see her sister in Pittsburgh. She’s really excited to see the Andy Warhol Museum and ride the incline (like that little red trolley from Mr. Rogers). I visited there a few summers ago and had a fantastic time. She’s in for a treat!

I know my roommate Erin plans to take the opposite route, and will be spending much of her time catching up on missed sleep. She also has her sights set on gaming, reading and hanging out with friends from home.

Likewise, my friend Ben told me he’d be getting some quality homework time in, because school will follow you where ever you go!

On a school-related note, some of my friends (quite a few, come to think of it) will be participating in Spring Break Outreach, a program that students apply for, and during which serve in communities across the east coast. There are eight sites, all in different states, all addressing different issues. My roommate Nicole will be learning about environmental and energy issues and visiting with organizations and local communities who are trying to address the problem. Lindsey, my fellow blogger, will be leading a group that focuses on prison reform and works with Baltimore agencies to educate students about the difficulties faced by current and past inmates. Other programs deal with rural and urban poverty, migrant farm labor, building communities, HIV/AIDS awareness, and racial justice.

I’ve also heard from other students that they plan to hang out with family and friends (even to Arizona and California!), spend some time skiing, and more than once I’ve caught “Disney World” while walking through Boulder.

What are my plans, you might ask? Well….I haven’t quite figured them out yet! I’ve been eying a few art museums since I haven’t been to any this semester (and that just feels weird). I really want to visit the Barnes in Philly (so many Renoirs and Cezannes!) and check out the Brandywine Museum’s F.O.C. Darley exhibit. My dad will be celebrating his birthday by going to the Museum of Mathematics in NYC to attend a talk about math in Pixar movies (I’m actually kind of excited for that). Other than the usual hair cut, visit to my high school, and obligatory restocking of food, I have no idea what else lies in my future! I hope it involves a trip to Barnes and Noble, though. Maybe I’ll eventually get to see The Hobbit or catch up on Downton Abbey.

No matter what I do, I know I’ll enjoy my chance to breathe and recuperate from midterms!

As you walk around campus in this nippy February weather, you’ll notice here and there signs of spring popping up from the earth. Along with the new blooms follow a new crop of students, coming in droves to tour the school and attend information sessions with their families. Pretty soon the quad and bridge will be clogged with newcomers on Saturdays, and you just might get asked by a lost parent where to find Boulder.

Sometimes, if you’re really lucky (and I’m being serious, this is pretty cool), you’ll be asked what you like the most, what you don’t like, and the most personal question, why Loyola at all? What was the deciding factor? What was in the balance?

For those of you who have been with me since the beginning, you already know some of the answers. But not all!

To give you an idea of where I was by this time senior year of high school, I had heard back from a few schools, was still waiting on others, but had more or less narrowed it down to Loyola, Fordham, and Rutgers.

After taking the tour and seeing the freakishly large campus of my state university (and learning I’d have to take a bus to get to classes), I crossed out Rutgers from my list. I had already visited Fordham before I applied, but after I went to the accepted students day, I just wasn’t feeling it. I loved the programs they offered: their History, Women’s Studies and Irish Studies departments were very strong and they, too, had core requirements. I loved how it was in the city with the world at my fingertips. It was tied with Loyola, until I got their financial aid letter.

Suddenly I was faced with two schools I wasn’t very keen on and and third I had visited multiple times, but hadn’t had that “This is it” feeling which everyone talks about.

Don’t get me wrong, Loyola was on my Top of the Top List from the first time I took a tour! I really liked the campus, the students were nice, the department representatives I met were so friendly and open to questions, and the emphasis on service and core classes drew me in tenfold. But between the first time I visited to merely consider it and the second time for my interview, I still hadn’t been able to say “I can see myself here.”

February passed, and then some of March, while I watched my friends make their deposits to their dream schools. Then one bleak and rainy day (I’m not kidding, it was downpouring on the walk from my bus stop), I received a letter from Loyola saying I’d been awarded a merit based scholarship, which added a new factor to my interest in the school.

I attended the accepted students day in April, which included a breakfast for scholarship and honors program students, along with the crazy amount of activities to keep you busy. And that’s when something changed. There was no Eureka moment, no fairy chanting Abracadabra over my head to result in a poof of inspiration.

It was a gradual acceptance.

As the day wore on, I saw more that I liked, I heard more challenging and simultaneously appealing ideas, and I met more people I saw as like-minded peers. There was a sense of community I hadn’t felt at other schools, a deep grounding in the Jesuit teaching of core values. There were so many ways I could get involved on and off campus, I just had to know where to look. Even the dorms and living-learning communities were calling to me (give me a kitchen and I’m happy). I found myself being able to say that I could truly see myself as a Loyola Greyhound.

And that was more or less it. By the end of the day I had submitted my deposit and triumphantly called my sister to tell her the news. But there was a moment during that afternoon that’s always stuck in my memory and is one of my biggest motivators to do well.

My parents and I stood outside Boulder and figured out the financial difference between Loyola and Rutgers (I may have taken it off my list, but that didn’t mean it was off my parents’). Loyola was a stretch, even with financial aid and the scholarship. But my dad put it into these terms, “This isn’t just a monetary investment. It’s an investment in you.” And honestly, it’s an investment in Loyola.