My Memories of Ovik Banerjee

#DailyWings: "I live in the present, due to the constraints of the space-time continuum." -Hank Green

I may have mentioned on my blog once or twice before that I am a part of a four-year leadership program at UNC-Chapel Hill called North Carolina Fellows. There are no words for what this program means to me. Perhaps it will suffice to say that I would not be the same person if not for NC Fellows, that the people in this community have challenged my perspective on the world and helped me to gain a greater sense of self-awareness, that joining this program was the best decision I've ever made in college. 

A few days ago, we lost someone who is and always will be an integral part of the Fellows community. Ovik Banerjee was a 2012 UNC-CH graduate, a Venture for America Fellow, a North Carolina Fellow, a true friend, a brother, a son and so much more. In NC Fellows, he served as a student director and a teaching assistant for the senior capstone course. He was always everywhere (but mainly the CLD office), and he was just so Fellowsy. Even after Ovik graduated, his presence still lingered in the Carolina Leadership Development (CLD) office and in our seminar room. But Ovik's impact doesn't stop at Fellows - he was a priceless gem of UNC-Chapel Hill. 

I always looked up to Ovik, not just because he was kind and honest and accepting of others, but because he wanted to get as much life as he could out of every experience he had and every person he met. He made it his mission to "get coffee with every single Fellow" before graduation. He stayed in touch with people no matter how far away they were or how long it'd been since they last spoke. The last time we talked on the phone was March; that conversation seems long ago now, but I remember feeling ecstatic that Ovik had even thought to call me, he was so busy. 

"You're doing it wrong," Ovik said to me at UNC-Chapel Hill's Holi Moli in March 2012.
Photo Credit: Hannah "Nemo" Nemer (possibly)

Ever since I learned about Ovik's death, I've found myself searching for the emails, texts and old conversations that we had, wanting to preserve them forever. I keep wracking my brains for every single memory I have of him, never ever wanting to forget what he was like - the sound of his voice, his smile, his walking stance, his big brown eyes. The way he called me "Wendy Lu-Who." I used to hate that nickname back in grade school, but somehow I never minded Ovik calling me that. 

Memory is a powerful, valuable tool. Most of my experiences with Ovik are retained only in my mind, and it's important for me to write them down lest they should become foggy over time. Sadly, memory-keeping can become difficult when you lose touch with what's fact and what was subconsciously made up while remembering too hard. But what matters most to me is that I don't forget the essence of each little scene, the small and real talk exchanged, the sentiments felt. 

I could easily describe Ovik with words like kindhearted and honest and inspirational (in fact, I already have), and they would all be true. But I hesitate to impose my perception of who he was as a person onto everyone else by using too many labels. While he had an impact on each person he knew, everyone who was close to Ovik had a different experience or relationship with him. So instead, I've put my thoughts into words, and those words into written memories that show a glimpse of Ovik's impact on a single person.

Whenever I want, I can just remember back to that time when: 
(for the sake of preserving space, only some of my most salient and favorite memories are listed)

-I met Ovik for the first time on Fellows Final Interviews Day in spring 2011. It was lunch break, and I was sitting with Michael, Gwen, Dominique and maybe Alyxandra (were we in the student union? Probably, but I'm not sure). When Ovik greeted our table with a friendly smile on his face, Michael - who knew him already - introduced him to the rest of us. 

-I went to my first Mipso show and felt so nervous about attending "my first real college concert." Ovik was there, and he assured me that I could stick close to him. He ultimately made it his responsibility to watch over me, to make sure I never felt uncomfortable in such a large, suffocating crowd. When he first saw me that night, he teased, "You don't wear a band's shirt at their concert!" 

-Ovik and I went to Buns for lunch and I got a veggie burger for the second time ever. We talked about life, legacies and aspirations. He asked a lot of questions (no surprise there) and answered a lot of them, too. I always felt comfortable talking to Ovik about anything; consequentially, he knew a lot about my medical history that, back then, few people knew outside of my Fellows class.

-He called me back in March, just to catch up. "So, I hear you're dating my brother's best friend," he said, teasingly, pausing as if to let me know he expected to hear more details. During the time it took for him to walk to a friend's shindig (pool party, maybe?), we chatted about life in Las Vegas and life back at Chapel Thrill. I told him he should return to UNC-CH for Fellows Interviews Day every year. As I recall, he did come last year. I'm so glad he did.

-He asked me to edit and read over one of the articles on his blog, Not Drinking, the Unspoken Taboo?  before it was published. Ovik was not only my friend, but a mentor and one of my biggest cheerleaders. He read my blog. He came to me for editing advice. He put a lot of faith in my writing abilities. I can never thank him enough for believing in me.

-He sat in the back of my very first writing seminar, which I hosted as part of the Fellows mini seminar series. Ovik was the one to tell me, a day or two before the seminar, not to expect too many people. He said I shouldn't be discouraged in case the audience count was low, that the Quality of each person's experience at my seminar was far more valuable than the number of attendees. We actually had about 12 or 13 people show up, and our discussions were great. Best of all, though? A Fellow texted me that next morning, saying she was inspired by my seminar to pour her heart through writing for the first time in a while. You were right, Ovik.

Wendy Lu

My Memories of Ovik Banerjee

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"My Able Life," inspired by Advocates for Carolina, and Laura Rozo Benefit Night

#DailyWings: "Nobody can make you feel inferior without your consent." -Eleanor Roosevelt

A few weeks ago, my ethics professor forwarded to our class an article from The Daily Tar Heel about a new student organization that promotes disabilities awareness, Advocates for Carolina. I was so incredibly happy to hear that a group had been created for students who must find alternative ways to live, and joined without hesitation. 

What I love most about UNC-Chapel Hill is that there's something for everyone -- a major, an organization, an outlet for self-expression. I felt welcome since the first day I arrived at Carolina; never before had I been a part of such an accepting community. In particular, North Carolina Fellows has taught me how to be comfortable with myself. I've learned that sharing my story doesn't push people away; often, doing so brings me closer to them. 

But as one of those students who has lived with the "disability" label for years, I'd always felt there was one other thing missing from my college experience: a space in which to share my story and learn from others in similar situations. Advocates for Carolina has filled this void. We emphasize on accessibility, advocacy and awareness. We seek to remove stigma, educate others about disabilities and provide each other with validation. Although we may live with different circumstances, this community reminds each of us that we aren't alone.  

Throughout March, Advocates for Carolina hosted "This Able Life" photo and narrative exhibit. Fellow Tar Heels shared their personal stories about what 'disability' means to them. At the gallery reception, we had an amazing turnout: students, professors and Chapel Hill locals all came to view our exhibit. 

"This Able Life" photo and narrative exhibit, hosted by Advocates for Carolina, was featured in March at the art gallery within the UNC-CH student union. 

I was lucky enough to have my narrative, along with a photo, accepted for the exhibit and to give the opening speech with Advocates founder Katie Savage at the reception. Although I am more than happy to share my story with others, this was the first time I chose to do so in public. For three whole minutes, everyone's eyes were on me as I talked about the mission of Advocates for Carolina: giving a voice to students with disabilities. 

Below, you'll find the narrative I wrote for the exhibit: 

“'Don't you want to be normal?' Doctors, friends and strangers ask me this casually all the time when they see me, not knowing that this question has puzzled me for years. 

Since birth, I’ve worn a tracheostomy tube – or trach tube – that allows me to breathe properly. Because of vocal cord paralysis, my nose and mouth have never served as proper airways. As lucky as I am to have grown up with a loving family, my childhood was filled with homecare nurses, procedures and muffled murmurs from people who didn’t understand or chose to judge first. 

It’s never easy to endure blunt questions and curious stares, but despite the challenges, I’ve realized that without these experiences I may not have learned how to appreciate all the good things in my life. Going through these experiences, I feel particularly passionate about helping others who must also find alternative ways to live. And, slowly, I began to realize how much it means to me when people show interest in learning about my lifestyle, and ask how I’m different as a result of my “disability.” 

Terms like “disability” and “medical condition” never resonated with me, and why should they? Because I have had to wear a trachoestomy tube for all 20 years of my life, I’ve never known anything different. It’s a part of who I am, but it doesn’t define me. 

Disabilities awareness isn’t about celebrating disabilities, but our differences and individual experiences. It’s about educating each other and realizing what makes each person unique. It’s not the disability – or condition or whatever you call it – that makes us who we are, but how we adapt to any limitations and make the most of life in a way that’s most fulfilling for us.”

Wendy Lu

UNC 2014

If you would like to read more about the exhibit and view other student entries, check out our recent feature on WUNC 91.5 on NPR. While the exhibit is now over, Advocates continues to spread its name and mission; on Wednesday, our organization was selected to be an official UNC Campus Y committee (huzzah!). We can't wait to partner up with other campus groups and bring many more disabilities awareness events to UNC-CH campus in the future. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

I also want to take a moment to share with you an opportunity to help a fellow UNC-CH student and dear friend of mine. 

Photo Credit: Chenxi Yu

Laura Rozo is a Carolina student, a Morehead-Cain scholar, a big sister, a friend, a mentor; she also served as the closing speaker at TEDxUNC 2013. In 2011, Laura was diagnosed with stage IV metastatic rhabdomyosarcoma. Unfortunately, the treatment therapies have not stopped the cancer’s progression in Laura's body. Laura’s physician has advised her to share with her family her wishes regarding her end of life care. She continues to receive hospice care at home, but there are financial implications for her family created by the increasing level of medical care she needs. 

Laura and I first met through NC Fellows, but we didn't really get to know each other until last fall. We were both waiting at UNC Hospitals (she had a doctor's appointment, and I had a meeting), and began to chat after we recognized each other from the leadership program. 
We started talking over our respective hospital experiences. After bonding with Laura for a while, I realized that even though our situations were very different, we understood each other and I hadn't felt this connected with another person in a long time. 

Here's someone else who knows what it's like, I thought. 

Hundreds of other people have gotten to know Laura at UNC-Chapel Hill and through TEDxUNC. At Advocates For Carolina's "This Able Life" gallery reception, we raised donations to go toward Laura Rozo's fund and asked visitors to sign a card for her. Many of them had never met Laura before, but left encouraging words about how her story made an impact on them. Over the months, Laura has taught me that no matter how hard things may seem, we're never alone.

Take a few moments to watch Laura's powerful TEDxUNC 2013 speech, "If Not Now, When?" 

If you find Laura's words and strength to be inspiring, please consider joining my dear friend and many others who have been touched by her friendship and love for the Laura Rozo Benefit Night. The event takes place on Tuesday in Morehead Planetarium at UNC-Chapel Hill, from 5:30 to 7:30 p.m. There will be performances, a raffle contest and food served by restaurants from Franklin Street. 

To learn more about Laura's story and the impact she has made on her friends in the Carolina community, check out Everyday Ambassador's feature: Wisdom and Mangoes with Laura Rozo. As people like Laura continue to fight cancer every day, here's hoping one day we can finally beat cancer for good. 

Wendy Lu

"My Able Life," inspired by Advocates for Carolina, and Laura Rozo Benefit Night

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50,000 Is Just a Number: NaNoWriMo Wks 3-4

#DailyWings: "The question should be, is it worth trying to do, not can it be done." -Allard Lowenstein

Whew! National Novel Writing Month is finally over, my fingers are about to fall off and I can go back to having a real life again. Wonderful. 

The last couple of weeks have been a whirlwind of emotions and dragging plotlines and flying  candy bars. First and foremost, I want to give a very big congratulations to all the NaNoers in Chapel Hill, N.C., and around the country who met their personal goals, whether they were to 5k or 50k or simply write every day. We did it.

For those of you who are curious, I made it to 43,705 words by the stroke of midnight. Unfortunately, I did not reach my goal of 50,000 words, but I was so close! On Nov. 30, the very last day, I wrote more than I ever have before -- about 10k in one day.That is crazy.  (The words weren't exactly fine contributions to the novel, but quantity > quality is the essence of NaNo.) This year's writing challenge taught me so much about myself and my writing. For one whole month, I showed that I love writing enough to put it above all else, even school work and health -- this is no exaggeration, as I was sick during the last week. Still, it was worth every hour spent groveling over word vomit. 

Even though I didn't "officially" win, I still felt like a winner when it was all over because of so many new developments that would've otherwise not been created. If I hadn't decided to partake in the writing challenge this year, my book would still be less than halfway done. The thing is, 50,000 is just some lame number. It's really no different from 49,999. Technically, you could just type "the" 50,000 times and enter "50,000" into the word count validator and say you "won." But that wouldn't feel very fulfilling, would it? Even though NaNoWriMo is all about how many words you write and not how meaningful each word is, it's also about how far you can take your characters. Where the story takes you and get you to where you want to be. I've learned that it's never, never too late to finish what you started.  Just because November is over doesn't mean I'll stop writing my novel. The best thing NaNoWriMo has trained me to do is write on a daily basis. It's more than just a habit, it's a lifestyle. 

One last note: This was the first year I publicized my NaNoWriMo endeavors so extensively on Facebook and Twitter. My goal for doing so was to hold myself accountable, but I discovered something else as well. What kept me going every day wasn't the fear of feeling guilt for not writing, but the desire to strive for what everyone -- my family, my friends and all the people who believe in me -- sees me as: a passionate writer who doesn't give up. Throughout the month, I received so many personal messages from different people who knew I was participating in the challenge. And when I ran into friends on the quad or in the dining hall, they would ask me how NaNoWriMo was going. This meant so much to me. 

Thanks to everyone for all the support and encouragement over the past month. Proud to be a writer. 

NaNoWriMo Word Count 2012: 43,705
Overall Novel Word Count: 101,486 (and still counting...)


Now that NaNoWriMo is over, it's time for finals.

Wendy Lu

P.S. Like reading The Red Angel? "Like" my blog on Facebook to receive updates and more #DailyWings! Hoping to reach 100 fans by Christmas. Help me reach my goal, please?

Once you "Like" the page, please click the 'Liked' button underneath the cover photo and make sure the 'show in news feed' option is checked. That way, you'll be able to see the updates!

50,000 Is Just a Number: NaNoWriMo Wks 3-4

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"Flying High": The Roarin' Twenties Begins! (Blogfest + Giveaway)

#DailyWings: “Treat singlehood and your twenties as the time when you get to fall in love with yourself. If you look with loving eyes, you will find that your most loyal companion lies within you.” -TSM

When I stepped onto the airplane for my flight to Ohio yesterday, I thought this was going to be an uneventful quickie. I've been traveling for years, ever since I was a little girl, and the longest on-air trip (including a connecting flight) I have ever been on lasted for nearly 18 hours. I love it. I love flying. When I'm in the air, it feels like time has stopped and there's nothing but me in the clouds. It feels like a dream. Yesterday, I found yet another reason to love airplane flights, but it was nothing I could have expected or prepared myself for.

On most flights, I take a window seat or aisle seat and bury myself in a good book or my journal. I'll enjoy my plastic cup of cranapple juice and bag of salted peanuts, then perhaps take a few pictures of the clouds. This time on the connecting flight (to Atlanta first), I sat in the middle. Before I could whip out Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, a middle-aged man wearing a dark-blue suit and carrying a business knapsack approached the seat to my left. Five minutes later, a short woman with curly brown hair and wire-rimmed glasses claimed the seat to my right.

I soon came to discover that the woman was going back home after a business meeting, and the man was a surgeon who was on a way to one. The woman told me she was eager to get home to her three beloved dogs and two cats, and I nodded knowingly. My friend is taking care of my turtles, I told her. Somehow we started talking about our love for animals, and the woman mentioned she had had to give up her own turtles a few years ago while undergoing chemotherapy.

Our conversation turned, and it occured to me how much this woman had been through. Yet, here she was as alive and energetic as ever, living her life with as much love and fervor as anybody. The surgeon, in turn, told me how he had come to develop a passion for medicine and healthcare. I listened, fascinated, to these two strangers who had become my friends in a matter of two hours. By the end of the flight, I hadn't even unzipped my backpack for Zen. I bid my newfound airplane buddies farewell, and the woman even patted me on the shoulder.

On the final plane to Ohio, I got the aisle seat on the Exit row. Finally - some peace and quiet! Not that I hadn't enjoyed my conversations with fellow surgeon and cat lady, but the night would be a busy one for me and I needed some rest.

But even as I sat down, I couldn't help but notice my left-side neighbor. An older man well into his 60s sat, tapping one giant sneaker against the rugged floor, with his head resting on one hand. I greeted him with a "Hi, how are you," and he shook his head.

"Not good," the man said. "Been up since 1 o'clock this morning."

"Oh no," I said. "Why were you up so late?"

The man told me his brother was in the hospital. He'd had a stroke. My neighbor had gotten the news while on vacation with his wife and grandkids.

"Oh no." I felt stupid for saying the same thing, but I was taken aback. Out of all the things I could have expected, this was last on the list. "Is he okay?"

The man shook his head.

I didn't know what to say. 'Sorry' seemed infinitesimally too small of a word, and a hug would be inappropriate in this situation. We sat together in what seemed like an uncomfortable silence for half an hour, and I debated whether to say anything else at all. Maybe I should just mind my own business, like usual. But the man just looked so sad.

He was the one to speak first.

"You from Ohio?"

"No, I'm visiting family for my birthday," I said. "How about you?"

"Yeah. You ever been to Rock and Roll House of Fame?" he asked.

The question surprised me. I said no I hadn't, but it was on my to-do list. The man said the term rock and roll had originated from Ohio from the very beginning. Alan Freed was the man who did it, he told me with a grin.

This seemed to take his mind off of current troubles, so I decided to keep on with the conversation.

"What's the best concert you've ever been to?" I asked, hoping that wasn't too random or weird.

"Oh, Elton John and Billy Joel's tour, hands down," he said. He began to list all the concerts he had ever been to and the biggest stars of the '60s - the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, ZZ Top, Elvis Presley. When he talked about music and 'the old days,' his eyes seemed to light up as if he were back in the Blossom Music Center. We chatted about famous landmarks in Ohio, rock and roll, and The Osbournes for the remaining of the flight. Twenty minutes turned into a couple of hours, and suddenly I was waving goodbye again at yet another new friend. I wished him and his family good luck, and told him I hoped his brother was all right.

As I walked into the Ohio airport, I spotted a female soldier clad in her camouflage military uniform. She crossed the hallway and approached a very old man--must have been in his nineties--with thinned blonde-white hair and large ear lobes. The soldier hugged the old man and whispered in his ear, thank you for your service. She squeezed his hand, and was gone.

I left the airport smiling.

Turning 20 has gotten me thinking deeply about what I want this upcoming decade to be about. Even though we are thrown unexpected surprises and crazy events every single day such that we feel powerless over our own lives, I think in the end we have a lot more control over our fate than we realize.

If there is anything that I learned from my day "in the air" (a day in the air out of many), it's that there is opportunity. Everywhere. The chance to make anything happen is right there in front of us, and it's our job to make sure we don't miss out. I think that's what I want my Roarin' Twenties to be about: taking chances and noticing opportunities. Being aware of my surroundings and the people around me. I never know who I will end up meeting on a chance encounter. Maybe next time I'm on an airplane, it'll be a cute guy with an Italian accent or something. Who knows? All I know is, never again will I bury myself in a book without first greeting my neighbor on an airplane flight.

Without further ado, here are my poems for the Roarin' Twenties Poetry Blogfest! Check out the rules here. The blogfest lasts until Sunday, so you can still sign up below!

A Set of Roarin' Limericks

Try #1:

There once was a girl named Wendy Lu,

Her popular nickname was Cindy Who.

Everyone thought she was thirteen, 

Which called for a post-teen scream,

All she wanted was some ice cream.

Ick......that was terrible! Let me try again.

Try #2:

There once was a girl named Wendy Lu,

Everyone called her Cindy Who.

Her friends said she looked young,

But really she was just full of fun,

Like them, she just turned twenty too!

Okay...that's better. One more try?

Try #3:

There once was a girl named Wendy Lu,

who ate her cake with a spoon.

She hung out at the speakeasy,

Even though alcohol made her queasy,

Never mind! This whole poem is full of poo!

Ack! I give up!

This blogfest is dedicated to all those writers who say they aren't 'good' at writing poetry. My 'literary forte' is with prose, but hey - ultimately there's a poet in all of us! I'm proof of that! :P

Thank you to all of the participants who signed up to celebrate my birthday with me! Much love to you all. Don't forget to check out the other entries!

The winner of the Chapter Critique Giveaway will be announced tomorrow after the blogfest and after I have entered everyone's points into the random generator! As they say in the movies, STAY TUNED.


Wendy Lu

P.S. I went from 184 followers to 194 followers in eight days! Y'all ROCK! Thank you so much!



"Flying High": The Roarin' Twenties Begins! (Blogfest + Giveaway)

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Lightyears Pocket Watch xoxo

QOTD: What is your favorite wearable accessory?

I grabbed some frozen yogurt on Franklin Street today with a dear friend of mine. I got red velvet cake flavor + Oreo flavor + chocolate chips. Yes, red velvet cake froyo! It actually wasn't that bad...on the other hand, the froyo guy gave me way too many chocolate chips! I know you must be thinking, how is 'too many chocolate chips' even possible? Trust me, it's possible! I feel compelled to create a funny analogy, but the thing is, I have nothing to compare a mountain of chocolate chip froyo to...

After froyo, we stopped by Lightyears, a cute jewelry shop that has every type of jewelry imaginable and some really quirky items too--like Lip Service Mustache Picks. My friend (shout-out to Jingyi! <3) got me this beautiful gold pocket watch necklace for my birthday (even though it's still a month away!). 

Pocket Watch Necklace

Lightyears Jewelry since 1985

Y'all, I am totally in love with this thing. Ever since I saw the Chelsea Doll pocket watch necklace at Fashion-Train a couple years ago, I've always wanted one. Isn't it pretty? 

Okay, on another note: despite my lack of ROW80 Days blog posts, I promise I've been writing! I've even crossed off a couple of my goals for this round! I just haven't had time to write about my progress due to recent family visits and summer classes. I will do my best to write a ROW80 post in time for Wednesday's check-in. :)

What do you think would go nicely with this necklace? What is your favorite accessory? 

Lightyears Pocket Watch xoxo

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Happy Thanksgiving Day!

QOTD: What are you most thankful for this holiday season, and what is your favorite Thanksgiving dish? (Mine is the turkey, duh.) Share with us in comments! 

I have so much to be thankful for, but especially: my loving, compassionate family and my amazing friends, both of whom are always there for me when I need them and constantly challenge me every day to be the best person I can be. I am thankful for my Moleskine journal for being forever patient with me when I am writing in it. :) I am also thankful for the weather, for I could not have asked for a more beautiful and sunny Turkey Day. 


But of course, my Thank You List would not be complete without any mention of my amazing blogging friends--not just all my amazing followers, but the bloggers who inspire me every day to be a better writer, blogger and friend. I want to thank each and every one of you for sticking with The Red Angel blog and for all of your support, encouragement and friendship all this time. You guys are the best!

Happy Thanksgiving, everybody! Wishing you all a wonderful holiday with the ones you love.


P.S. Be sure to check out my previous blog post, which I stuffed (no indirect pun intended?) full of motivation for this last week of NaNoWriMoing (plus my word count, which has actually gone up since then)!

Happy Thanksgiving Day!

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The Art of Sophomore Swag

QOTD: What brand and flavor of chewing gum would you recommend for someone you don't like? (You thought it'd be another "favorites" question, didn't you?)

These are so true. 

Note: If you don't know what swag is, click here. And just so you know, I love first years, and I loved my first of college. :)

Living the year of a college sophomore can only be described as a trip through a very, very strange time machine. A set of twenty-four hours swishes by fast, so that the days seem to blend in and suddenly a week has felt more like one extremely long day. One minute I'm on top of the world, the next minute I'm back at the bottom scrambling for the top again. It feels like I have only been in school for a week, but no--it is already September and here I am, faced with history papers to write and mid-term exams that loom head. 

Here is a typical day in college (AKA the time machine): 

8:00 am Wake up, snooze for twenty extra minutes, and then skim through the chapter of my history textbook that I should have read last night (but was too busy following my BFFL's Facebook statuses and doing my Statistics homework). I am transported back in time to the Reconstruction era of the late 1800's.

9:40am Stuff toast in my mouth and take the local transit to school. 

10:00am Political Science class (in case you're wondering, it's Introduction to American Government). For the next hour, my classmates and I are political candidates of the next election at a primary debate (the kind you watch on Fox news), discussing......issues.

11:00am Play in the library (play = Facebook, blog, Skype, three Statistics problems). Chortle at the first years also in my Poli Sci class, who are sitting a few tables down poring over the Blackboard assignments that aren't due until next month. 

12:00pm Nudge my way through the dining hall and wait half an hour in line just to buy myself a sandwich. Eat a thirty-minute lunch with a friend. 

1:00pm  History class (American History after the Civil War). I take a quiz on the content I read half an hour ago. I freak out about my grade, get my grade back, sigh and then say, "I knew it was no big deal! I learned this in high school after all." For a while, I'm back in my Honors U.S. History class again. 

2:00pm Arrive at my Language class, huffing and puffing like my chest is about to explode. Translate for an hour. 

3:00pm Stop by the dining hall to grab a smoothie and a slice of the world's best pizza. Chortle at some more first years who ask the cashier what the difference between Flex and Expense plans are again. Go back to the library and start playing (play = Facebook, blog, Skype, and three pages of history reading). 

3:15pm Check my Google Calendar and realize I have a meeting in 15 minutes. FREAK OUT. 

3:20pm Dash out of the library and forget where Gardner Hall is (even though I remember being there before). I end up asking a couple of first-years where I can find Gardner Hall. I take a shortcut (which a sophomore told me about last year) and get there at 3:29. I begin to think maybe there's something called karma after all. 

4:00pm Lie out on the quad with friends and start looking for cloud formations. Pretend we're in space. Play Frisbee and feel like a kid again. Get sunburned. 

5:00pm Attend another meeting. 

6:00pm Go back to the library. Study for real this time because I remember I have a language quiz tomorrow (no playing). Panic because I keep forgetting words that I learned last semester. Miss my old study buddy (who is studying abroad, lucky duck). Wish I was a first-year again. 

7:00pm Go home. Eat dinner. Call Mom and Dad, who remind me to take a shower and tell me they can't believe I'm a sophomore already. I concur. 

8:30pm Take a shower. 

9:00pm Statistics homework (due tomorrow morning). Facebook, Skype, blog. Youtube, too. 

1:00am Stumble into bed. 

Repeat. 

The Art of Sophomore Swag

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30-Day Challenge 25, 26, 27: Letters to People (in Chinese!)

Question of the Day: If you could spend one semester studying any language at all (regardless of time or money constraints), what would it be?

This post was actually inspired by the book Eat, Pray, Love (author Elizabeth Gilbert) in which Liz herself embarks on an adventure to Italy, India and Indonesia. I am currently reading Part One and Liz explains why Italian is so beautiful and why she has this passionate desire to completely immerse herself in this language.

During my freshman year of college, I got to take Mandarin Chinese--and I have to say it is absolutely wonderful. I've always been surrounded by family members who instead speak Shanghainese, the primary dialect in Shanghai, China, so I thought that this would be an excellent opportunity to learn more about and of the #1 most popular language in the world (Spanish in #2 and English is #3).

Now, I love Mandarin as much as Liz loves Italian. And I am proud to say that I am now able to write, read and speak basic Mandarin. HURRAY!!! Sadly, the reading part is most difficult for me since it's not an innate skill. As I will be travelling to China next month (woohoo SO EXCITED) I definitely think I need to brush up on my Chinese (both Mandarin and Shanghainese).

So for today's Challenge, as part of my 30-Day Tumblr Blog Challenge, I'm going to write letters in Chinese! Awesome excuse to practice, no?

First I'll show the letter I wrote in Chinese, and then I'll add the English translation below. Enjoy!!! Do any of you know Mandarin or Shanghainese (if so could you see if I wrote the letters correctly? hehe)

Day 25: Write a letter to somebody who is not in your state/country.

我的表姐:

你好马? 我还有一个半星期就会去上海来看你。 我很开心! 我希望可以跟你去看电影和吃饺子。 我好久没吃上海采了。 我也要去看看你的办公室， 好吗?

My older female cousin:

How are you? There's still only have one and a half week left before I will go to Shanghai to see you! I'm so happy! I hope I can go with you to see movies and eat dumplings. I haven't had Shanghai dishes in so long! I also want to go see your office, is that okay?

Day 26: Write a letter to the person you miss the most.

你好， 姐姐!

虽然我昨天刚跟你打过电话了，可是我还是非常想你! 我在等到我们能一起去中国。。。没有很多时间了! 你想，飞机上面会有什么采是好吃的， 什么电影是好看的? 不要忘带好看的衬衫，裤子， 和鞋。 我们的家人都要看看美国的女孩子是穿什么呢.

Hello, big sister!

Even though I just gave you a phone call yesterday, I still miss you a lot! I am waiting for when we will get to go to China together...not much time left now! What do you think, what sort of yummy foods to eat and good movies to watch will there be on the airplane? Don't forget to bring pretty shirts, pants, and shoes! Our family members want to see what clothes American girls wear.

Day 27: Write a letter to your best friend.

最好的朋友:

你好! 你怎么样? 六月二十二号是我的生日，我会看到你。那天我要给你一张枝， 有你喜欢得歌写在上面。 你来的时候我们会做饭，看电视， 和吃蛋糕。你喜欢什么样子得蛋糕和饮料? 你告诉我， 我就会到商店去卖。请快一点给我发电子邮件!

My best friend:

Hello! How are you doing? June 22 is my birthday, and I will get to see you then. On that day, I will need to give you a piece of paper, which has a song on it that you like. When you come, we will cook food, watch television, and eat cake! What kind of beverages and cake do you like? You tell me, and I'll go to the store to buy them. Quickly write me an email please!

Whew!!! Goodness that was a lot of writing. It was great exercise for my mind though, and definitely helped me jog my memory, especially for some of the harder words/characters like cake, beverages and pants and grammar points such as 虽然, which means although.

If you know any other tongues besides English, feel free to write your comments in your respective languages! I'd love to learn how to say different phrases, though I can't promise I won't use Google Translate. ;) Share your languages with us!

P.S. Yes, I will be going to China next month and will definitely be blogging about my experiences--hopefully everyday if possible. I am SO excited and can't wait to share my adventures overseas with you all!

30-Day Challenge 25, 26, 27: Letters to People (in Chinese!)

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Let's See That "Inanimation"!

QOTD: If you could be any inanimate object, what would you choose to be and why?

YAYY!!! I have been dreaming of this moment every single night for exactly thirty-seven days (total exaggeration is required to emphasize the excitement boiling inside of me right now).

It's finally time for "Inanimation"!!! Let's create our own Toy Stories, breathe life into those lost and forgotten dusty pieces of old furniture in our attics, and make kitchen utensils dance and sing as they make your favorite chicken pot pie!

As a short recap, here is the blogfest task:

The idea is to write an entry of NO MORE THAN 1000 words that somehow incorporates the personification of inanimate objects. It can be a poem, a short short, a letter (perhaps to your favorite childhood toy?), a fairytale, a scene from a dream, or even a song--anything you want! It can be something you've written in the past or it could be totally brand new...it's all up to you!

AAaaaand here are the lovely participants!!! Once you have posted your own Inanimation entry, be sure to go around and visit everyone else's. Get ready for the liveliest ride ever!!!

1) .:The Red Angel:.

2) Tessa Conte

3) Begin anywhere!

4) Stephen Smith

5) Trisha @ WORD+STUFF

6) Colorless Landscape

7) Mia Hayson

8) Francine Howarth

9) Loralie Hall

10) World of Wendy Lu

11) The Golden Eagle

12) WRITING IN THE CROSSHAIRS

13) CatchyTips for Writers

14) Donna Hole

15) Kelsey Leigh

16) roh morgon

17) Writing on Writing: Amlokiblogs

"The Keeper of the Keys"

The day she came back was the day I woke from the dead. It had been eight long, miserable months--or had it been even longer than that?--since I'd even seen her at all. Back in January, the father had begun to redecorate the house, or rather, throw out old pieces of furniture and buy new ones. He'd already trashed two dressers, an entire bed, and even the mini side table that had lived right across from me in the same room for over six years and had dutifully held the vase of flowers that was replenished every week. The vase was also discarded. I remember being so afraid that, at any moment, he was surely going to wheel me from the living room and throw me out too.

But the furniture spree began and ended, and still here I was. And yet, she--my owner, the keeper-- still didn't come back. It wasn't until May that she returned to the house, looking a little bit taller and older and, well, more serious. Every day following her return, I waited eagerly for the moment when she'd waltz into the living room, open me up, and touch my keys. Each day that passed by, I was ignored--just like I had been for the past eight months. She was no longer the little ballerina who would waltz around her home like she was on Broadway. I gave up hope of ever coming to life again.

My keeper spent most of her hours cooped up in her bedroom on that ridiculous plaything that I heard was called a laptop. I spent hours listening to her punching those keys as fast as she could, the keys that could never play as beautifully as mine did. Why, then, did she so obviously prefer those keys over mine? It got to the point where I began to wish that the father had simply just trashed me with all of their other old stuff. What was the point of me taking up space when nobody wanted to dance, play, sing with me? I was aging, and fast--cobwebs began to intertwine around my legs and dust gathered between my keys. It was pretty itchy, but I eventually got used to it. After a while, I began to forget that I even existed.

Then, my life changed during one cold, rainy afternoon. I'd slipped into hibernation--what else was there for me to do but sleep nowadays? No sound was heard except for my owner click-clacking away at her laptop, the father watching television upstairs and the constant pit-pat-pit-pat of cloud tears outside. An occasional crack of thunder interrupted the rain's poetry.

Someone cracked opened my lid and I was suddenly exposed. I shivered, not used to the air and wide open space, and couldn't help but sneeze a little as dust flew from between keys. It felt good to get a breath of fresh air, but what was going on? It had been years since I was last tuned, and if I was about to be thrown out there'd be no need to open my fallboard.

After a moment, three fingertips touched me and pressed down each key, do re mi, one by one. Vibrations quivered around the hammers in my body and, for the first time in months, I laughed. I was flying through Fur Elise now, singing as loud as I could. The air was thick with music, and I knew it was my owner. Her movements were all too familiar, and nobody else knew how to play Fur Elise like she did. As her fingers flew across the board, she seemed to be saying to me, oh--there you are, I missed you, and I felt happier and more awake than I'd been in a long while.

It was like we'd never parted in the first place. It didn't matter to me anymore that she'd abandoned me for so long...her coming back made me realize that she hadn't forgotten me at all. She was the keeper of the keys, and always would be. And in that very moment, all I wanted was for her to play my music.

~~~

This is based on the relationship between me and my piano, but the excerpt above is embellished with fiction. I hope you enjoyed!

Let's See That "Inanimation"!

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Merry Christmas, Blogosphere!!!

Question of the Day: How will you be spending Christmas Day?

Well, the clock just struck 12am. Eh, I should be asleep right now but I just thought I'd wish my favorite online folks a happy Christmas and merry holiday! Whoops, got that mixed up...

I'd like to share with you a video that someone really close emailed to me. It meant a lot.




This song is by Darren Criss. You may know him from A Very Potter Musical, or perhaps you recognize Darren as the new stud Blaine on Glee. Either way, he is extremely awesome and truly talented. :)

For some, Christmas is about the birth of Jesus. For others, it's about the lovely gifts you receive and return. For me, it's about all that and more: Christmas is about spending time with the people who matter most and will always be there for you.

Merry Christmas, Blogosphere!!!

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Gift Ideas That Come From the Heart

Question of the Day: What is the best gift you've ever received? What's the best gift you've ever given to someone else?

Here it is, yet another Christmas just around the corner. The fam's perking up, what with all the festive decorations and big meal plans. You've got the toy trains ready for your nephews, the Barbie dolls for your nieces, the journals for your aunts and the wallets for your uncles. But nada for your sister, brother, Mom, Dad, immediate family.

You feel like you've bought it all in the past. Movies, books, lotions, golf clubs, candlesticks. What about this year? No clue. It's like all the gift ideas have been sucked out of you. And there's...what, five days left? Four? Dang it!

Let me tell you a little story. I think I've told you this before, but I go to China for vacation every year during the summertime. Right around my birthday, which is June 22nd. A couple years ago, I had my birthday party a few days before our leave. I wanted to see my friends and celebrate my surviving another year, well, at home. We had a cake, foosball, television, video games, cupcakes, and lots of other fun goodies. When we had cupcakes, I smashed mine into my boyfriend's face. IT WAS AWESOME!!! Funny enough, my boyfriend (let's just call him Boyfriend for now) had one of my other friends get it all on video with his camera. And not just that, but EVERYTHING I was doing. I hate being taped or having photos taken of me, but I guess it was my fault since I promised him that, for this one day only, he'd be able to take photos of me and video me. Needless to say, he REALLY took advantage of that!

I got lots of gifts that year. But the one gift that I loved the most was the one Boyfriend gave me. (this is where you say: AAaawwWWWw!!) He didn't give it to me until the day before I left for China...on his way out, he handed me a CD. He told me I wasn't allowed to look at it until I was on the plane to Shanghai. I promised I wouldn't. But you can bet that the first thing I did the moment the pilot said, "okay, folks, you may now use your electronics" was bring out my laptop and stick that CD in.

The CD was a video of my entire birthday party. Everything was there. The cupcake smash, the foosball games, my face (ick), Boyfriend's face, and everyone else who had been at my party. Total nostalgia right there. At the beginning of the video, Boyfriend said that since I wouldn't be there for my real birthday, he had compiled a bunch of photos and a video of all the people he knew I'd miss and who would miss me back. That way, whenever I felt homesick, I could just watch the video.

In different parts of the video, Boyfriend even had interviews of different friends say things about my trip to China. "Hope you have fun!" "Get back safely!" "Bring me some noodles!" I think I watched the video about four times all the way through during the plane flight.

~~~

Bottom line is, gifts that come from the heart are always the best. I'm a total sucker for homemade gifts as it is. I hope this little story gives you some inspiration about what to give your family and closest friends this year. :) And if you're STILL stuck, here are a few ideas:

1) Bookmarks. If someone close to you is a total bookworm and you've given them, like, a trillion novels in the past, I think they'd appreciate a small collection of bookmarks. Make a few of your own (after decorating with markers and stickers, laminate them) and buy a few. Tie them with a pretty bow. You can even put them in special categories, such as Seasons of the Year or Moods/Colors.

2) Recipe cards. Any cooks/chefs you know would definitely appreciate these! Ask different people you know for their favorite recipes, and along with your own, write them on separate note cards. You can even draw a small picture of what the end result looks like if you're an artist. Punch holes into the cards and hook them on a ring so they stay together. Perfect!

3) Candy. For a good friend of yours who you've known for a very long time, give them a box of different candies that you used to eat together as children but aren't seen very much anymore, such as Mary Janes, Wax Bottles, Fireballs, Bonomo's Turkish Taffy, Chiclets gum, and War Heads. You can buy candy from any decade you want here at Old Fashioned Candy.

4) Homemade Videos/Movies. Take a leaf out of Boyfriend's book and make a movie about how you two became friends. :) Or just simply tape yourself telling that person exactly what he/she means to you, and how glad you are that person is in your life.

5) Scrapbook. Take all the photos you have of you and that person and compile it into a book. If you're feeling really creative, get some scrapbook essentials (such as stickers, stamps, old trinkets, ribbon, etc.) and decorate each page. Be sure to label all photos and title each page! This is definitely one gift you can't go wrong with, and you can be sure your friend/relative will cherish it forever.

What is most important is that the gift matters as much to you as it does to them.

That's a gift that comes from the heart.

Gift Ideas That Come From the Heart

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Tessa's Blogontest: Outside the Box

Question of the Day: When was the last time you overcame your fears or stepped out of your comfort zone?

Kudos to the lovely Tessa of Tessa's Blurb, who is hosting a "Blogontest: Outside My Box." Entrants are to post a short piece of writing that they usually are not used to writing. Since I write original fiction most of the time, I've decided to share with you all Chapter 1-3 of a fanfiction piece that I have been working on in my spare time when I decide to take a little break from my WIP novel. The fanfiction is based on J.K. Rowling's Wizarding world and stars The Marauders and Lily Evans (way back before Harry Potter was even born).

Let me know what you all think! If you are interested in reading the rest of what I have so far, you can view it HERE.

For What Is Worse?

Chapters 1-3

The golden, fluttering ball just didn't ever seem to want to stay put. Of course, the Golden Snitch's job was to never stay put—it was meant to keep moving at all times. Still, it was no match for James Potter's strong hands and flexibility as he caught the Snitch over and over again, almost leisurely. It never took him much energy to keep the Snitch from flying farther than a couple feet away.

"When are you going to stop playing with that thing?" Remus Lupin asked, looking over Quidditch Through the Ages. He was leaning against a tall oak tree, his forehead and his eyes being the only visible parts of his face. That tree also happened to be shading James, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. It was a late Friday afternoon, and they had just finished their last class for the day…for the weekend.

Two days to do whatever they wanted. Best of all, tomorrow would be another Hogsmeade trip, and everybody looked forward to that.

"When this little sphere finally manages to get the better of me," James replied, sniggering almost lazily.

"Which will never happen," Peter piped up.

"—Unless some girl comes and distracts ol' Prongs for a second too late," Sirius added.

"Please," Remus said, finally putting down his book and turning to the others. "James has had that Snitch since the beginning of eternity, and girls have been chasing him since the beginning of eternity. Nah…Prongs is—"

"Whoa," breathed James. The others turned to look what where he was staring at. His brown eyes were wider than Galleons.

"What are you looking—"

Before Sirius could finish his question, James grabbed him and pointed ahead.

"Do you see what I see, mate?" He said, still breathless as though he'd been running.

"Uh…I have no clue what you're seeing…" Sirius said, uncertainly. "Come off it, just tell us what in Merlin's name you're staring at."

"Who is she?"

"She?" Remus automatically turned. "Oh James—you idiot—that's Evans!" James's eyebrow raised in surprise.

"Lily? Lily Evans?" he said. Lily was holding her books and apparently chatting animatedly with her friend Gizelle Peters. There was no mistake about it. The reddish-brown hair, the green eyes, it was all the same. And yet...Lily Evans seemed to have changed as well. She'd seemed to have sprouted over the summer; her hair was wavier and curves had appeared. Her complexion was bronze, not so pale like the last couple of years.

"That's her?" Sirius said, incredulously. "Merlin's beard, she looks different!"

~~~

From the corner of her eye, Lily Evans saw a boy walking towards her. Messy black hair, glasses…who else could it be? Lily asked herself. She rolled her eyes and continued chatting with Gizelle.

To Lily, Potter was nothing but an annoying show-off who thought he was cooler than anybody else on the face of this earth. Unfortunately he seemed to have made Lily his prime victim and every year he would not stop teasing her about everything, from her red hair to the robes she wore to Potions class.

But this year would be different, she decided. She would not let him bother her anymore and if he even tried she would curse his face—literally.

"That's not the Potter boy is it?" Gizelle asked her, now looking the same way Lily was a moment ago.

"Yeah, it is," Lily muttered. "No, don't look that way; and maybe he won't bother us."

"Too late…" replied Gizelle. James Potter had already approached them. He casually flung his hair out of his face and placed his arm around Lily's neck.

"Hey there Evans," he said, trying to sound cool and relaxed. "How was your summer?"

Disgusted, Lily tossed Potter's arm from her, way farther than was necessary. He let out a yelp of pain and rubbed his arm.

"Jeez, what was that for Evans?"

"Don't talk to me," Lily snarled. "See you haven't changed over the summer."

Potter smiled at her. "See you have." His eyes skimmed up and down her body.

"Just shut it, Potter," Lily snapped at him. "C'mon, Gizelle, let's go somewhere else." She grabbed Gizelle's arm desperately and began to walk away. But before they could go any further, Potter ran up to her, blocking her way.

"Get lost," Lily said. She didn't want this boy to have any more say in anything.

"Hey, hey, calm down Evans," Potter said, shocked at the way this beauty was acting. "Just hold on a sec, okay?"

"And what? Listen to your little teasing remarks for another year? No, I don't think so." And Lily took a step forward.

"No—wait—I have something to say. Look, I promise I'll stop teasing you forever on one condition." Potter smiled again, this time in a mischievously cheerful way.

Lily raised her eyebrow. "And what's that, Potter?"

"I promise to stop teasing you forever if you'll go out with me."

"What?" Lily laughed and wouldn't stop. "Forget it, Potter. You're way out of your head."

"No I'm not," replied Potter. "I just happen to know what I want and I'm willing to sacrifice some things for that."

"First of all, I decline. And second of all, you say you'll stop teasing me forever but in the end, to you forever means the end of tomorrow."

~~~

James walked back to his group of friends, feeling discouraged but not upset. Evans always acted this way toward him, ever since their first year at Hogwarts. But now that it was their fifth year, he wanted things to be different.

He always had an interest in girls of all kind, but this one seemed to spark him in the forehead. James had always thought of Evans as the girl who he could always tease without shame, for she was headstrong and didn't seem to care what others thought. Especially not him.

James returned to the tree that Peter, Remus, and Sirius were lounging under, their heads bowed and hands over their faces. Obviously, they were chuckling at what they just saw.

"That, my friend," Sirius said, smacking James on the back, "is what I call an epic fail." The rest roared with laughter when James punched Sirius in the arm.

"Don't worry," said Peter, "she'll probably say yes to you sometime or other. I mean, every other witch in this school would die to be in her place."

"Yeah…" James said absentmindedly. But somehow or other, he figured this girl would be different than the others and not so easy to obtain.

~~~

Sirius had just finished naming James' attempt an "epic fail," laughing with the rest. But inside, his thoughts were complete confusion.

When Sirius had seen Lily Evans a moment ago, it was shock at first. Had that small lanky girl with no boobs really transformed into this wondrous woman of red hair and curvy hips? Even he himself wished he wouldn't think such things; in their younger years he had often thought Lily as a sort of clumsy potion brewer of a witch. Always mixing something in her cauldron, she never needed a textbook to create anything—a genius by all means. Just the instructions, her ingredients, and her cauldron: that's all she needed.

But now…now was different. Lily was different. And Sirius had suddenly changed as well.

James had always been Sirius's first mate; or rather, it was the other way. Sirius had always been James' first mate, right-hand man. He supported everything James did, no matter what it was. His years at Hogwarts consisted of so many memories, all shared with James…

How they had almost gotten expelled in their first year for lighting a teacher on fire...

How they had both spent their second year trying to kill Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat and then both wounded up in detention…

How they had taken time in their third year to come up with plans for their monthly outings with Peter and Remus, turning into Animagi…

How they had stolen food from the kitchen underneath James' Invisibility Cloak their fourth year…

James was Sirius's brother. They were always together and never let the other down. So why was it that now Sirius felt like his mortal enemy?

But secretly, inside, he knew.

That uncomfortable, squirming feeling he experienced when he saw Lily just moments ago confirmed it.

And now an internal battle seemed to be taking place within Sirius. His desire versus his right mind: two opposing forces like fire and ice fighting against each other, never ending.

That's James' witch, you know you can't have her.

Who said I wanted her at all?

You know you do. And you also know you can't.

Who says I can't? Wait—who said she was James' witch in the first place? She's nobody's witch…which makes it even more appropriate for me.

No it does not! James is your best mate!

Exactly, he'll understand perfectly.

If he does, that makes it all the more worse for you to even think about it!

Lily...Lily Evans…how could she have become so beautiful in the course of three months?

Stop that! Stop that, I tell you. You have NO right to think those thoughts.

Neither does James.

That's none of your business.

Lily Evans…

In the end, Sirius convinced himself that these thoughts were harmless, that they were just normal wishes of getting a girl himself for once, not necessarily Lily. He promised that he would stop thinking about her, that he would think of any other witch but her. After all, James had liked, perhaps even loved, Lily for all these years even if he hadn't admitted it. And now James was showing his feelings more than ever. And Sirius honestly didn't want to interfere with that either.

Still, he glanced one more time towards the direction in which Lily and her friend were walking away. And he couldn't help but see the way her dark red hair rippled in the wind, so bright under the sunlight. And in an instant, Sirius wished so badly to hold the person who owned that beautiful mane, to bury his face in those strands.

~~~

What do you think?

~TRA

Tessa's Blogontest: Outside the Box

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