My Un-Planned Planner

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”

It’s a really fun question to answer when you’re a kid, because the possibilities seem endless. You can say whatever comes to mind! There are two things I remember that I always had a desire to spend the rest of my life doing:

1.     Become famous (somewhere between age 7 and 12) – a singer/songwriter like Hannah Montana (Haley Minnesota/California?), an actress like Raven Simone - I just wanted to live that luxurious-looking life of stardom I saw on Disney Channel.

2.     Be a bridal consultant at Kleinfeld in NYC (age 13 – 15 I think) – this sprouted from several hundred hours plopped on the couch, making heart-eyes at the marvelous white dresses these lucky women who’d found someone to giggle, cook, cry, hike, write, and wake up with can pay for.

And then when you get closer to finishing high school and braving the world of everything college- and adult-hood-related, the question gets a little more serious. It’s introduced with, “what’s your major?”, and then whoever asked you hits you with the ultimate brain-blower.

“Oh cool! What do you want to do with that?”

As you may know, I’m majoring in journalism and minoring in food science/nutrition, so… yeah. If you ask me the second (should-be-forbidden-until-senior-year) question, there’s a 99.9% chance I’ll pause for a second, look at you like the sum of journalism and nutrition is obvious even though I know it’s too broad to ever be, and say something like, “Well I really like to cook…” and sometimes people interrupt me with, “Lemme’ guess – you want to write about it!”

Yeah, pretty much. And I don’t mean to sound sarcastic to you if you ask me or have ever asked me these questions and are reading this now like, “Wow, rude.” I promise.

I just wish I knew how to put into a short sentence the words that describe everything I want to do everyday for the rest of my life, now that I've realized that I can't sing or write songs, and NYC is too big, far, and terrifying for a girl who really only likes the city for it's culinary creations and the blessings who prepare them. 

·      Experiment with – sauté, grill, fry, bake, slice, chop, taste, savour, lick every last drop off my plate – good food. And by good food, I mean mouth-watering, nourishing grub from all over the states and way beyond.

·      Design my own kitchen – dig in to my Pinterest wall and you’ll get a taste my top contenders. I know I want something…

o   white, but still with splashes of coordinating colors.

o   spacious, but small enough to feel like a home-kitchen.

o   organized, but only enough so that my OCD isn’t fueled to take over my life from the kitchen and beyond. Plus, I like when I have to tell people where things are – makes me sound like I know what I’m doing.

o   contemporary, but bringing back tools and traditions of treasured culinary periods.

·      Explore – also something you’ll find on my Pinterest wall. Basically, I want to go everywhere in Europe and South America. Future-husband, if you’re reading this (which would be pretty stinkin’ cool, so you should tell me if you are), take note. And save up $$$. Love you!

·      Settle down somewhere – this is an epitome of the tornado of confusion my parents gave birth to and named “Haley”. Naturally, as a SoCal girl, the beach sings to me and I can’t ignore it’s angelic, calming, nostalgic wave-y tunes, but how flipping awesome would a cabin up in Mammoth be, or a lodge-y mansion in Vail, CO, or a quaint, hip (expensive) townhouse in San Fran, or… nevermind I’ll stop. You get the point.

·      Fall in love – I’m typing this and realizing how picky I’ll be when it comes time to find my “Prince Charming”. And I don’t even think I want him to be a Prince. I don’t think someone Prince-y will squeeze heart-eyes out of me. Again, future-hubby, if you’re reading this, put on some jeans (wallet and Bible in pocket, of course), an apron, and a white-toothed smile and we’ll call it a… um… wedding? Ha.

that is all.

Before all that, I’ll be in SLO, studying, working, and getting my degree. Oh, and cooking food from Farmers’, laughing with my girls, exploring Central Cal and everything up above it, praising Jesus and thanking Him for those blessing, and grubbin’.

And then and we’ll see what God writes in my planner. In the meantime, I should devise a statement that sums up this whole post for when people ask me those questions. Help?

Thanks for reading! Much love and appreciation for all of you. If you’re liking this, or maybe you’re going through something similar (?), or maybe you have a genius idea for my question-answering inability.

Whatever the case, comment below or email me! I love to hear from you guys.

Y’all are great. Keep eating, running/walking (your dog)/lifting/hiking/biking/dancing/skipping, coffee-shopping, and whatever makes your heart giggle a little and your smile sparkle a lot-tle. 

My Story - Better Late Than Never

This post is long overdue, and I’ve gone back and forth – trying to decide if/when I should post it, how I should say it, etc. My friends and family know the story, and others have seen it in pictures. Maybe you guys have, too. But I’ll tell you the whole story because Hungry Haley would not be here if this story had never been written.

About two and a half years ago, I was diagnosed with an eating disorder. I never went to the hospital or had any serious health concerns, thankfully. But between July and August of 2012, I started losing weight. Sure, the compliments were great – “Wow, you look thin!” and “What have you been up to, girl? You’re so toned!” – things like that. Fitness Magazines piled up on my desk, and my parents made room in the kitchen for me to experiment with new healthy recipes I’d found. I was even performing well in school – I was studying constantly and rewarded with several A’s. My faith was strong, too. I read my bible, connected with my bible-study leader at the time, Jessica, and spent time in God’s word.

But things headed downhill when I lost some control. My friends would all go out for dinner and a movie and I’d politely decline. I convinced all of us (myself, my friends, and my parents) that it was because I had homework and wanted to save money, but I knew that, honestly, it was because I was afraid to eat unhealthy food. 

That was strike 1.

After school everyday, (yes, every single day) I’d head over to the gym for a good, sweaty 45 minutes on the stair-climber and then some mileage on the treadmill. Everyday. Afterwards, I’d shower, steam some veggies and pair it with lean meat like chicken, turkey, or pork, and hit the books for the rest of the night, forgetting about family dinners and unintentionally lighting the match that would begin to char away the thick ropes that tied our relationship together.

That was strike 2.

Soon enough, my breakfast was one egg and a few whites scrambled with spinach, and a banana with peanut butter. My lunch bag held nothing but half a turkey sandwich, carrots, and an apple. And my eating habits only became more and more strict from there. I wasn’t quite aware of it, but something was grabbing a hold of the reigns in my life.

And there is strike 3. 

February of 2013 was the first turning point of many. My heart pounded with fear when my mom told me she scheduled a doctor’s appointment for me. Our family doctor is one of the sweetest, most genuine, caring women I’ve ever met, yet I dreaded this appointment more than anything. I think she knew what was going on before the appointment, even though I thought it was just a check-up. First, she told me I was underweight by almost 10 pounds. Then, she began asking personal questions like why I stayed at home so often, why my grades were so high all of a sudden, why I wasn’t on the track team, etc. And then she and my mom brain-stormed answers they assumed (and read to be) true to all those questions – answers I knew were true, but didn’t want to admit. Tears filled my eyes and everything my doctor said after “You have an eating disorder” was a blur. I remember hearing something about needing therapy, too. 

And the next 5 or 6 months didn’t get any better. And yes, I actually did go to therapy sessions. I sat through (on a surprisingly comfortable couch) the 45-minute periods once or twice a week after school, answering the therapist’s stereotypical questions in all honesty, only reinforcing the fact that I didn’t need this kind of help. 

When my parents realized these sessions were only taking money out of their wallet, time out of our schedules, and the energy, life, and parent-child-trust out of our relationship, we discontinued them. Instead, I came home one day to a book from my mom on my bed about recovering from an ED. Never read it. Not a single page. I’m sorry, Mom, but I couldn’t.

Next came the nutritionist. She was one of my favorite people out of all this, actually. Why? Well, she made me feel normal. She made all of it – the whole eating disorder thing (which I never admitted to until a few months ago) – seem insignificant, as if I just needed to gain a little weight. Thank you, Lindsey, for that. She designed weekly meal plans for me to follow, with enough flexibility for me to mix and match breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks. If I had to pick my favorite part of this 6-month period, this is it. Lindsey proved to me that my body could handle – and needed – all of these calories and nutrients. She introduced me to a variety of foods and recipes, some of which inspired the ones you’ll find on my site. And I’ve never given her credit for that. So, Lindsey, thank you, thank you, thank you for helping to pull me out of the nutrient-deficient hole I was digging myself into - Hungry Haley would not be who she is today without your help. You were one of the strongest pieces of advice I needed in that time. You’re one of the answers God was giving me, and you’re a blessing :) 

After a few weeks, I loved the meal plan. Combining different foods and recipe-ideas everyday made this journey feel like an adventure. I’d wake up excited to choose between oatmeal, pancakes, eggs, or smoothies for breakfast, and then create something yummy and nourishing for lunch and dinner, too. 

I wish I could say that this is where everything ends – that I gained enough weight, that I rebuilt my parents’ trust in my eating habits and mended our relationship, but I can’t say I did. Every night, while I did homework, my parents would come upstairs and ask me to step on the scale in my bathroom. I’ve seen my parents stressed, tired, angry, and scared, but I’d never seen them with this look on their faces. They looked somewhat hurt, like someone had taken a little bit of their excitement away. I’d step on the scale and wait for the electronic numbers to show up in the same order as they had the night before. The numbers may as well have said, “You didn’t gain any weight. Just get off.” I’d step off, eyes not leaving the floor for fear of disappointing my parents and letting their hopes down. Following this came more concern from my parents. And rightfully so. Even I wondered how, on an almost-3000-calorie-diet, none of those extra calories were staying. This is where I felt the most like I had no control over anything. I’d lie in bed and ask God where the heck He was, and what He thought He was doing in all of this, but I couldn’t hear an answer. 

When summer came, my stomach wasn’t happy with this hefty eating plan anymore. By noon everyday, I’d lie on the couch, too stuffed to do anything. The ease with which my parents agreed to let me break from the 3000 calories a day surprised me, but I asked no questions. They saw my effort, and they saw the ED symptoms disappearing. Spending time by the pool, cooking dinner together, and enjoying the dishes we prepared mended the ties that had been almost fried between my parents and I. 

About a month later, I talked to the new track and field coach at school about joining the team for the remainder of the summer and my senior year. When she realized I was the one she’d seen running the same hill-repeats as the team throughout the summer, she didn’t hesitate. The smell of the hot, rubber track and even the weight room, the bonds I immediately formed with my teammates, and the excitement, fulfillment, and self-worth I found on that track were blessings that came at exactly the right time. My parents saw my re-ignited passion for something other than working out, and our relationship became stronger and more joyful. 

I don’t think I can put God’s answer into words exactly, but I know He answered my call for help. He always has, always does, and always will. He provided a learning experience, and an opportunity to strengthen my faith throughout this journey. 

So here I am, two (and almost a half) years later, finishing up this post, seriously considering shortening the distance between my mouth and an ice-cream-cookie sandwich from the coffee shop on the corner. Can you tell things have changed?

But before any of that scrumptiousness happens, I want to thank you for taking the time to read this – I sincerely appreciate it. If my story helped you with something you’re going through, then that’s all I need to hear. Tell me or tell someone else, but just share it. Use it to help someone else, too. Our stories make differences, no matter how insignificant we may think we are. 

My parents were the biggest support system I've had, and I wouldn't have recovered if they hadn't been by my side. Love you, Mom and Dad, more than you'll ever understand, 

and thank you, more times than I'll ever be able to speak.

I just wanted to be honest with everyone. Hungry Haley’s 1st birthday is about a month away, and I needed to make sure her whole story has been told. 

That story is nowhere near over. In fact, more and more is added to it everyday. A little part of me hesitates to admit that I had an eating disorder, but I would never wish it hadn’t happened. God showed me that He can be weird, and often misunderstood, but He can never be wrong. He will never allow anything, anyone, or any trial tear you down. I’m trusting Him and learning more and more about Him, this life He’s blessed me with, and the food that comes with it every single day. Best kind of school ever. 

Thank you again for reading. Love, blessings, and appreciation sent your way :) 

Freshman Year and The "Freshman Five"

269 days ago, my parents and I were playing suitcase-tetris in the SoCal sun, trying to load our station wagon with all my crap stuff I’d be taking with me to school. To Cal Poly SLO for my freshman year, that is.

Two hundred and sixty nine days ago. What? And now I’m a sophomore?

Not to be cliché, but time really does fly. It’s kind of crazy how, when we’re in the moment, time can feel like it wants each second to last a minute, but when the moment(s) is over, we wonder where all that time went so quickly. Accepting my high school diploma felt that way, packing up our car 269 days ago felt that way, and now, lying in my own bed on summer vacation sans all the overwhelming, pimple-inducing stress of the end of the quarter.

Every single one of those 269 days had some significance to it. And I don’t know if I’ve ever been able to say something like that about such a long period of time. You know?

The first couple of months were hard, which is something all freshmen hear. I heard it about eight hundred times from my mom alone. Each time she or someone else told me that, I was like, “Yeah, I KNOW. I’m sitting on my bedroom floor, crying, with no friends. I KNOW IT’S HARD.”

Then, God started to be really cool, though. I read one Psalm each morning to begin my day on a good note, I worked pretty hard in my classes (Pre-Calc, Architecture History, and Econ), and I got a job in downtown SLO at the best café ever.

And things kept moving uphill from there. God blessed me with a bible study. Wait, no. It was so much more than that.

The girls I met in that group became my study-buddies, my weekend warriors, my mutual late-night-donut cravers, my laughter-inducing, stress-reducing life-savers.

My best friends.

The final months of the year could not have been better. Actually, overall, the year could not have been better. Yes, even the challenging start was a blessing in disguise.

I feel like I’ve never grown this much in my entire life, which is saying a lot, considering I’ve gone from like 12 inches in length to over 5 feet. Ha, I’m funny.

Anyway, for those of you heading off to college soon, here’s the advice I can give you…

The Freshman Five

1.     Don’t be afraid of change. It may become your most frequent guest, so welcome it as best you can. Yes, change is hard, but change happens everyday. We might not even realize that. College itself is one of the biggest changes you’ll experience, and after you get through the initial transition, everything else is manageable.

2.    Be vulnerable. I’ve met a lot of people who tell me they were intimidated by me at first, and I’ve noticed how much I really do come off that way. Smile at people, even if you don’t know them. Especially if you don’t know them. Let down your guard, swallow your pride, show others that your acceptance/friendliness/relatability/whatever it is. If you’re stuck inside your confidence, potential friendships get locked outside your little bubble.

3.    Buckle yourself in. What I mean here is that, if life is rollercoaster, faith is your seatbelt. Life will take you through hoops, upside down, backwards, flip you over and then do it again. I promise, yes, promise, you’ll be safe in your faith. Find a book of daily devotionals, pray – before a test, on your way to work, after work, whenever – just talk to God, and remember that He is your safety buckle.

4.    Surround yourself with similarities. You’re on a new campus, with new faces, new teachers, new classmates, new roommates – pretty much new everything. And that can be really scary and uncomfortable. So find something familiar. Join a club or bible study, try out for a sports team, seek out others who are interested in the same things you are. Soon enough, you’ll feel at home.

5.    Trust God. If you’re a Christian, you’ve probably heard this your whole life. And it’s one of the hardest, most annoying things to hear sometimes. But it’s the most powerful piece of advice you can take from anyone. Know that God has a purpose in everything – in sending you to college, in placing you in a certain dorm, in blessing you with challenges (yes, they are blessings). He knows what He is doing, and He has your best interest as His number one priority. Give Him your fears, your worries, your failures, and your smiles.

Most of all, just get excited! College is, for lack of better words, the best.

If you have any other questions, I’d be happy to help. I’m no life-expert, but God has challenged me, taught me, and blessed me, and I’m here to share the crazy love He shows us. Email or comment below – can’t wait to hear from you guys! 

Addicted to Yoga

Hi peeps!

I’m here today to talk to you about yoga. Sorry, I don’t mean to sound like a cheesy motivational speaker; I just didn’t know how to start this thing. So, that being said, let’s get started! 

I’ve practiced yoga before, but never very seriously. My yoga sessions were pretty much bonding time with teammates and friends at 24 Hour Fitness after practice or after a workout. Don’t get me wrong – those classes are good, but they didn’t really make me want to come back the next day and work even harder. 

Other times, I’d whip out a yoga DVD with a 20-30 minute session on it just for a quick workout or nice stretch. Heck, sometimes I just did it because I was bored. 

Now, the Rec Center at Cal Poly offers yoga and pilates classes, like, 5 times a week, and there’s a yoga studio in downtown San Luis Obispo just down the street from Bliss – Yoga Centre SLO. Basically, I’ve been pretty much surrounded by it, so I figured I’d give at least one class a try. 

About a month ago, I went to my first class in a long time with my two of my future roommates. It’s a pretty legit yoga studio – it smells like lavender and mint, there are only 2 rooms for classes, and the lobby (the tiny lobby) has several racks of fancy of yoga bras and tanks and fun, printed leggings! 

That first class – Power Flow – was an hour long, and was right before the farmer’s market. Imagine my excitement here. We moved through poses quickly but at our own breath’s pace and definitely worked up a good sweat. The last 5 minutes were dedicated to Savasana. Basically, pure, whole, absolute relaxation. 

It was awesome. 

I’ve been going back to that class each week and even attending a few others!

Here’s the best part – a few days ago, I decided to practice on my own. It was Friday morning and I had planned to go for a run, but I woke up and just wasn’t feeling it. Yeah, one of those days. So I grabbed my yoga mat, some water, and any/all knowledge motivation I had in me and went down to my building’s community center since the busy Rec Center didn’t seem like the best place, even at 7:30 am. 

The janitors let me in – they like me. Every time we run into each other, I’m doing some sort of workout. Without a question they kindly let me roll out my mat in the middle of the room while they worked on some construction projects nearby. 

I had thought I’d be distracted by their noise, but it actually contributed to the whole experience. 

How? I forced myself to focus on what I was doing – on my breath, on my pose, on my mind. 

What was really cool was that I used this time to connect with God and dedicate my morning to my faith. I thanked Him for the ability to practice, prayed for the strength to continue, and promised a day (at least one, that is) full of smiles to let His light shine through me for others to see. 

Yoga is completely personal. It’s about you – what you put into it is what you will get out of it. By letting my breath guide my movement, I am listening to what my body craves in terms of exercise. By pushing negativity out with each exhale and pulling positivity in with each inhale, I am ridding my body of everything preventing happiness and peace and filling my body with only the most beneficial, healthy thoughts. 

And while all of that is going on in my mind and in my spirit, my thighs are growing stronger, my arms more powerful, my core more toned. Sweat drips from my forehead and my heart pumps as I push through each pose and breath. 

I’m addicted – addicted to the soreness, to the fatigue, to the restoration, to the relaxation, to the powerfulness I feel all at the same time. 

I can’t wait to keep practicing and improving! It’s been a blessing so far - thank you guys for taking the time to read about it. Give yoga a try! 

Have a splendid Sunday :) 

Realizations, Blessings, and Smiles

Someone just asked me what I like to do for fun.

“Run, cook, eat, read, workout…”

Then, with a chuckle, he asked if I’m an introvert. Hmmm…

“I’m somewhere between an introvert and extrovert. I love the peace and quiet of being by myself, but I also cherish the time I spend with my friends.”

Another question he then asked what I’ve learned about myself recently. With a little thought and contemplation, I told him…

“That I’m more of an extrovert than I thought I was.”

And with that, he grinned and said, “Hm. Okay.”

So, yeah, basically.

I used to be more of an introvert - totally fine with staying in on a Friday night with my parents, reading, watching a movie, working on the blog, whatever it may be. The peace and quiet was comforting and relaxing.

But now, and maybe it’s the fact that I’m in college and away from my parents and my friends back home, I often find myself craving community and interaction. And I’m not saying that’s a bad thing; it’s just a change I’ve noticed and I think it’s interesting.

I guess I’m stuck somewhere between wanting the peace and quiet of staying in, cooking, eating, blogging, etc. and wanting the laughter and silliness of friendship. Is that a good place to be stuck? Will I ever be un-stuck? Do I want to be un-stuck?

Now that I think about it, there’s a lot about me that’s changed recently…

·      The whole introvert -> extrovert thing

·      Stronger faith/passion for Christ

·      Transition from a meat-loving athlete to plant-eating vegetarian fitness-freak

·      Boost in curiosity – everything from journalism, to food, to people, to agriculture, to yoga, and the list goes on

Change is good, though. It’s necessary, exciting (sometimes), and strengthening.

There is one part about me, however, that has returned back to it’s normal state finally….

·      My uncontrollable, bubbly, passionate, totally-not-serious-but-sometimes-really-serious, overall hungry personality.

I’m part of a bible study with girls who live near me on campus, and they’ve been one of the biggest blessings in my life so far. Without them, I honestly would have very few close friends here. And I wouldn’t have experienced as much laughter as I have in the past few months. We’ve been close for only about 2 or 3 months, but in that time we’ve shared testimonies, finished homework and studied for midterms, prayed about stresses and fears, stepped on each others’ toes while line dancing, and pigged-out on donuts at 11 at night.

So, I’ve come to the conclusion that the combination of Christ, family, community, friendship, and the right amount of alone time has brought me to this newfound state of gratitude, faith, and happiness and back to who I really am at the same time – in other words, to this place somewhere in between an introvert and an extrovert.

If I ever do decide to attempt to pick between those two personalities, I know I’ve got some seriously wonderful people to help me.

Life up here is pretty stinkin’ cool. While I’m excited to head back down to SoCal in about a month and reunite with old friends and spend time with my awesome family doing summer-break things, I know I’ll miss the many blessings God has given me at my second home, my SLOme. 

Spring Break (College Edition)

I feel like such a big-girl right now – in more ways than one. Let me explain.

1)   I have one quarter left of my freshman year at Cal Poly SLO! Where, oh where did the time go?

• No, but really. To give you a comparison - if the first quarter went by as fast as Usain Bolt, then the second quarter went by faster than Usain Bolt with 3 quarts of coffee in his system and lightning bolts for legs (wait, is that where he got his name?).

2)   I’m currently on the train back up to school… BY MYSELF.

• Yupp, you heard me. “Bye mom! Bye dad! I got this – I’ll text you when I get to my dorm. Love you!” she said, turning her back to hop on the train as the doors closed behind her, and not long after, tripping over her sandals, rolling her own suitcase over her own toes, and (almost) losing her boarding pass. But we’re all good! I got my shiz together and walked up the tiny staircase, took my seat – which is by the window (thank you, Jesus/mom for booking the ticket), and now I’m relaxing.

Please, everyone, try to relate to me on this one.

3)   I’m now (at least) one size bigger in all my clothing – shorts, shirts, bras, undies, everything.

• Hashtag hungry. All the time. I mean, I can’t complain. Seriously, I’m actually pretty proud of this one. When I started my fitness journey almost 3 years ago, I lost a ton (about 30 lbs. to exact – read more about that in another post later) of weight, then gained some back, then lost it again during track season about 9 months ago. I’ve been working on my eating habits – adding more variety (hello, vegetarianism!), increasing my fat/protein intake, and switching up my workouts – aka less cardio and more weights.
• Needless to say, all that work has been, well, working. Yesterday morning, before heading to the beach, I slipped – wait, wrong word – pulled/squeezed/sucked-myself-into one of my favorite pairs of shorts. Or, better yet, tried to. I couldn’t button them, so I recited every girl’s morning routine to get skinny jeans on – suck everything in, do a few super-deep squats, lift your leg like a peeing-dog, and you should be set. Except, I wasn’t. That stubborn button was still very much a stubborn button. So, in came the new shorts.

Whatevs. A few pounds won’t stop me.

All in all, spring break was freaking awesome.

I visited UC Berkeley and the surrounding area, and realized that what I had been told about the school during the college-application process (and what turned me off to the idea of applying there) was inaccurate.

• In case you have been told the same as I was: No – UC Berkeley is not in the middle of nowhere. It’s actually in the middle of an eclectic, colorful, architecturally-amazing, densely-populated city.
• Go Berkeley. You’re awesome.

Walked up many, many stairs to see this. So worth it. 

I went to Mammoth with my parents and some of our super-close, super-hilarious family friends. Let me tell you – it was absolutely beautiful. And a blast.

• We hiked/rock-climbed/miraculously made our way up to a tiny cave that we could spot from our living room window, and then slid/avalanched/got tiny porcupine plants in our butts on the way down.
• We made a snowman, whom, within about 3 hours, began to lean and lose his Swedish-fish-smile and Cheez-it-buttons to little hungry creatures.
• We drank hot cider. I tried not chug mine – it was that good. #selfcontrol
• We played Rummy Cube, 20 Questions, checkers, and kind of made fun of each other a lot. It’s what we do.

I applied for jobs to keep myself busy this summer, and to be around more food. I feel a little spoiled working at Bliss Wholesome Café right now, because there’s just no place like it anywhere else. Fresh juices, 100%-vegan dishes and desserts, locally brewed kombucha, and extremely happy, smiley, encouraging co-workers who have become more like friends are what set high standards for what I look for in a workplace in Chino Hills.

I reminisced on my favorite part of senior year at my high school’s track meet (in blazing hot weather, might I add). My heart still beats faster than a hummingbird’s wings when the 800m runners are called to get set on the track, and my legs still quiver a little bit when the starting-gun goes off – whether I’m racing or watching. However, I must say, that’s one of the best, most rewarding, stomach-in-your-throat feelings I’ve ever experienced. And yes, I miss running. Call me crazy.

I made time for a trip to the beach with two great friends. And totally did not put sunscreen on. And totally got burnt. And totally ate too much ice cream. But it was still totally, totally fun.

By far probably the best spring break I’ve ever been blessed enough to have. Thanks, everyone who helped make it so cool.

Side note: it’s when I finish writing posts like these when I can especially see just how truly amazing God is.

So, how was your spring break? I’d love to hear about it! Comment, email, whatever!

Thanks for reading :) 

Something Super Cool

ello, fellow hungry people! I know I’ve been a little bit absent from this page, but it’s only because I’ve been focusing my attention on developing the food-aspect of my blog – which is super exciting!

Anyway, a lot has been going on in my life in the past month or so. And what’s really super cool is that everything that’s happened in the past month or so has transformed my interpretation of what God has been teaching me for the past six months or so. Let me explain.

To break down the major events I’m talking about, I’ll number them off in chronological order.

1.     High school graduation (woooo!)

2.     Break-up (not so “woooo!”, but hey, God has a plan)

3.     Blog-launch (“wooooo!” times ten billion)

4.     Starting college

5.     Dean’s List

6.     Homesickness, loneliness, a little confusion about what God’s plan is

7.     Getting here – in the spiritual/emotional place I am right now

So, what’s the significance of each? Well, for a while, like, up until about four days ago, I explained my understanding of all this as “God always has an alternate plan. He never takes anything away/does anything without a purpose.” But, I think – actually, I know – I misunderstood.

Let’s rewind to last Tuesday night, as I sat in church with my friends and hundreds of other really rad (yes, I just said “rad”) Christ-following Cal Poly students. An extremely perky, adorable, hilarious young woman spoke about community - how everyone had their first experience at Cru and some were much better than others. Some people are 4th-years and have a boatload of friends and some people are 1st and 2nd-years still searching for the right Bible Study group. I reminisced on my first night at Cru - the middle of the first quarter, amidst Women’s and Gender Studies stress, a little loneliness, and right when the smoke from the break-up-bomb was clearing. The worship band was singing songs I hadn’t really heard, but somehow I knew the words. I closed my eyes and I sang and I started to cry because I knew God heard me and was using Cru to save me. 

From that first night at Cru until very recently, I believed God always replaces things – which isn’t, like, totally false. I thought that He would always give me a new chance to ace a test, a new job opportunity, a new friendship, etc., because that’s how things always turned out.

But last Tuesday I realized that I had been wrong. God wasn’t necessarily taking things/people/activities away and showing me alternatives, but rather, in all the confusion/loneliness/sadness/happiness/whatever it was, He was pointing me back to Him. When something went wrong or I was upset or sad or angry or whatever, I turned to God, and saw that He was giving me something else.

But I didn’t really turn to God and just keep my eyes on Him. Now, I understand that the most important alternative plan God had in mind through every single trial and challenge was for me to run to Him and to stay there.

So, I stood worshipping in Cru that night, and couldn’t thank God enough for the life He’s blessed me with – my family, my friends, my blog, Cal Poly, and most importantly, the opportunity to freely follow Christ every single day.

I’m not here to brag, or to tell you that your life will suck if you aren’t Christian. I’m simply explaining how awesome God is and how He has worked in my life because I choose to follow Him. So, yeah, I guess I am saying that life is, like, 245,742,923,485 times better when God is the focus of it all.

When your best friend picks you up from a long day at work and takes you to see the sunset, go. And thank her for the gas mileage, and thank God for her. 

If God has been doing something super cool with you, too, I’d absolutely love to hear about it! Or, if you have any questions, or need someone to listen, or someone to talk to, I’m here for that, too.

Email, comment, or whatever – just talk to me! 

Food-ventures of SLOme

Good Lord, it’s about time I post this. The food of San Luis Obispo deserves it’s own post. Seriously, it’s so good. Then again, maybe I’m a little biased, but even if I am, I still have good taste.

So let’s take it all the way back to July, when my parents and I came out here for Orientation.

Here’s the dinner my mom and I had on our first night from this little Mediterranean place down the street from school. I had a chicken shawarma wrap (a whole wheat pita with marinated grilled chicken thighs and a few vegetables I think) and my mom had skewers with some sort of meat on them. Oh, and she had the wine – not me. We split that little salad, which was tomatoes, cucumbers, and feta tossed in spices and olive oil.

Needless to say, it was a yummy way to start out my life of food in SLO.

Day 2, the first day of Orientation, was quite a day. My dad used an app on his phone to track exactly how far we had walked, and I think it totaled to about 7 miles. And we only walked around campus. It added a whole ‘nother dimension when I asked myself if I was ready for classes.

Thennnnnn we toured the downtown life and had some lunch! Let me tell you – I was a little overwhelmed by all the options we had, and I was also starving so my parents and I chose the first café we saw, Urbane Café. And I’m glad we did. Three sandwiches on focaccia bread with some salad and fruit and we were pretty satisfied – and ready to do some more walking…

Oh and by the way, after we ate lunch I had my first encounter with Bliss Wholesome Café. Y’all better know about Bliss. We didn’t order anything; we just explored the menu. And I fell in love. And then we kept walking.

So now, we have to fast-forward to when I fluttered my little independent birdy wings and left the nest. Also known as move-in time. Either one.

‘twas a warm September night in Paso Robles – the last night I’d spend with my parents for a while. tear tear. We ordered some (or like a thousand pounds of) Chinese food and pigged out.

Then we get to WOW – Week of Welcome, probably one of the most tiring, hilarious, spontaneous weeks ever. Our group leaders took us downtown one night to a famous grill that pretty much everyone talks about – Firestone Grill. Apparently, you’re supposed to get the tri-tip sandwich, but I was feelin’ the chicken sandwich with avocado ‘cause, duhh. (Does the side of mandarin oranges make me look like a four year-old?)

And here’s to the birth of the best Thursday nights ever – Farmer’s Market Thursdays. Seriously, I had to switch a few classes around my schedule this quarter specifically for this. I guess you can call that prioritizing, right? Whatever, you would rearrange your schedule, too. Don’t deny it.

My very first farmer’s market consisted of, um, debt. I bought sweet potatoes, avocados, apples, and this Korean BBQ bowl. But hey, it was all good.

Farmer’s Market number dos consisted of these shrimp spring rolls. And a little bit less debt. The temptation of all this fresh produce, homemade nut-butters and jams, and a wide variety of such. good. food. is deadly to a hungry college student like myself.

Now, I’m pretty much a professional eater whenever I go. I never let myself starve just so I can eat something really good, but I do save a little extra room on Thursday afternoon ‘cause, duhh (again). This chicken bowl is different. It’s called a teriyaki bowl, but it tastes like a combination of barbecue and teriyaki. I don’t know how these people do it, but I’m glad they do. And yes, I finish the whole thing. And sometimes, I finish my friend’s bowl, too.

And then – possibly the best part – comes cookies. Let’s take a moment of silence for Bliss Wholesome Café’s cookies.

Thank you.

Like I said, professional eater. Me? Yeah. Sometimes I even amaze myself.

How about breakfast? Just ask Sally Loo’s Café about that one. Two scones – one gluten-free banana bread chocolate chip and one vegan pumpkin spice – from this place sparked a slight obsession with scones.

And just in case there aren’t enough super healthy, super scrumptious cafes around SLO, here’s a ginormous organic chicken and veggie salad from The Natural Café, a joint my roommates and I chose on one of our downtown visits. We made a good choice.

Parental-visits are always the best opportunity for off-campus (aka real) food. Why? Because they pay for it, and you get to spend time with beloved family. That being said, here’s the Thai food my mom and I devoured when she came to visit me. The only plate that wasn’t completely clean was the dish with the curry sauce – that one came home with me and made some awesome leftovers.

Last but not least, we can’t forget sushi. Yanagi Sushi ended the long month I endured without such delicious, nutritious raw fishy-fishes. Busta Rhymes up in here. Yo.

So that pretty much sums up my belly’s life for the past few months, minus the campus food. Yes, San Luis Obispo is, for lack of better words, delicious.

But this isn’t the end! Stay tuned for many, many more posts about what I eat. Because that’s the most fun topic to talk about. So peace out.

Busta Rhymes – Hungry Haley edition. Word. 

Trust and Patience

t’s been a while since my last post, I know. But studying, job-searching, eating, making friends, and more studying have consumed my time.

Welcome to college?

I’ve got to be honest – college is hard. Yes, it can be a blast – making new friends, exploring my new home, tasting different foods here – all of that is what makes being away from what I know to be comfortable seem like more of a feasible task.

But there are and have been many times, especially recently, when I just haven’t felt okay. I’ve been here, in SLO, for four months now, and I’m still searching for a best friend like the ones I have back home. I’m still searching for something I can look forward to everyday. I’m searching for some comfort, because what was my comfort for a long time is now four hours away.

Needless to say, these past few months have been a challenge. Thankfully, there is a local church here where a lot of Cal Poly students attend Cru, and it’s awesome – probably one of the main highlights of my week (besides Thursday night farmer’s market). But it’s only once a week, and I often find myself feeling alone, watching everyone else sit with five or six of their friends, laughing and having a good time.

I’ve been praying everyday for God to surround me with friends like that – friends that are focused on Him, too. And it seems like He’s taking a while to get back to me, which is weird. Why would He wait so long to give me friends who worship Him, too? I had a lot of trouble understanding God’s reasoning with this one.

Here’s where it gets good.

Right now, I’m closer to God than I think I ever have been. Everyday I read one Psalm and write in two journals – one for praying and one for expressing gratitude. Seriously people. If you don’t journal already, start now. Journal everyday. Once, twice, three times – even if it’s something tiny or something crappy or something happy (or something that rhymes). Scribbling down your thoughts and feelings is such a powerful way to talk to God.

That’s what has changed my life so far. I realize now how much I really do talk to God. To me, a prayer used to be “Dear God, ... Amen.” But now, I understand that a prayer is simply communication. It can be anything from “God, why?” when you see you got a C on your first math quiz (sorry, Dad, I tried) or “This is absolutely amazing, God” when you’re standing staring at something gorgeous God created, like this view behind Cal Poly.

I’m not saying that just talking to God throughout your day will make things easier, or make all your wishes come true. There will still be challenges. There will still be times when you have no idea what God is doing. But I’m telling you that, even in those times when you feel like you have no friends, you will feel God. You can talk to Him, you can question Him, you can even cry to Him. He hears you, and He will answer you if you just wait and worship Him.

I know it’s something we don’t usually want to hear, and probably something many of our parents told us growing up, but when nothing seems to be going your way, or when nothing seems good, look around and find beauty in what you have. For me, I found the beauty in where I am – in SLO. I found beauty in the fact that I have the strangest, most spontaneous roommates that know how to turn a boring Saturday night into a hilarious pee-your-pants-inducing game night. And of course, I found beauty in the warm, soft, cinnamon-y snickerdoodles from my favorite café, Bliss.

Most of all, I found beauty in the fact that God always provides. And I thank Him for that. In fact, sometimes that’s the only thing I write in my gratitude journal. But I continue to acknowledge that He loves me, and won’t let me hurt without giving me something He knows is better in the end.

And as I look back on my journal entries from the past week or two, I realize how much I’ve asked God to challenge me, to test me. Cru has been encouraging us to go and disciple, like what Matthew tells us in The Great Commission, so I’ve been practically begging God to strengthen me so that I can spread the good news that saved my life in hopes of saving someone else’s.

Yet, I find myself asking why I am struggling. Silly me. God hears me, and He’s simply responding. Now, don’t think that if you ask for flowers and chocolate and all happy days God will give that to you. But He will give you what He knows is best for you. Remember, HE has the plan. HE knows what’s best. And HE wants control. So let Him have it.

Trust Him – He knows what He’s doing, people. He’s kinda’ huge. 

And be silly!

Taking a Peek Back and A Leap Forward

Happy New Year everyone!

2014 was quite a year. I got accepted to Cal Poly, raced both the 800m and 1600m for the very first time, became valedictorian of my American Sign Language class, graduated, created my Instagram and this blog (woo hoo!) and, perhaps most importantly, discovered and developed strengths I only dreamed of someday having.

So, to kick off 2015, (I know, it’s a day late) here are my New Year’s Resolutions…

1.     Develop my faith and strengthen my relationship with Jesus

2.     Stick to my new lifestyle – Pale-YOU – but still find ways to indulge here and there

3.     Establish (and keep) new friendships

4.     Dedicate more time and effort to cooking and this blog

5.     Find ways to thank God everyday for the things I repeatedly take for granted

6.     Focus less on what happened and more on what is happening and what I can make happen in the future

As with every other day, week, month, and year, I know that 2015 will bring everything from accomplishment and happiness, to challenges and defeat. I do not wish for an easy year, by any means. I pray that the Lord test me and test my faith because I know that endurance and perseverance through those trials will promote maturity, knowledge, and wisdom.

On a less serious note - 2015, bring on the food! I can’t wait to spend more time in the kitchen – whether that be my tiny one at school that desperately needs cleaning, my medium-sized one at home that tends to be easily over-crowded simply with my dad, mom and me, or my large fantasy kitchen that’s painted white with black and gray accents and stocked with absolutely every cooking tool and ingredient I’ll ever need.

Let’s pretend I posted this yesterday, kay? Thanks. Happy New Year (again). Make your own resolutions and do your best to stick to them. Keep coming to my blog – I love visitors!

2015 will be spectacular! :)

Props to my awesome Dad for putting this shnazzy thang together.

Hold On Tight

Seriously, hold on tight. Buckle up, saddle up, giddy-up – whatever you want to call it. Just get ready.

I came to college a little bit broken. Actually, I think fragile is a better word. I’ve always been like that, but a month ago, heartbreak made me especially vulnerable.

On the other hand, I had gained a sort of strength and confidence because of that heartbreak during my last week or two at home that I hadn’t shown in a long, long time.

When something breaks you, if you want to not only move on but to thrive and accept with enthusiasm and excitement every opportunity presented to you, you have no choice but to utilize every ounce of certainty you have within and piece yourself back together.

However, picking up the pieces while transitioning to a whole new world brings the challenge of not leaving the important pieces behind. The important pieces being family, best friends, and - perhaps most easily left behind and that which I’m guilty of forgetting - faith.

After being so involved in and so in love with Inland Hills Church back home, I had no doubt that my relationship with Jesus and my faith could stand any test God presented to me. But sometimes - if not many times - His tests evoke feelings of instability, uneasiness, and most definitely confusion.

I stepped onto Cal Poly’s campus with timidity and uncertainty. Yes, I was beyond thrilled to be here and unbelievably thankful for such an opportunity, but I was scared. 

And, like I said, I was fragile. I was vulnerable.

No, I didn’t go out and party every night. Or ever, to be honest. I didn’t completely lose myself, but my view of who I am became a little blurry, and I couldn’t figure out why. I had packed everything – all my clothes, shoes, books, school supplies, plenty of pictures and even my stuffed animals. My fragile heart – I understood – and I knew it’d heal itself with time. My wobbly morals – I was a little confused about.

Of course, college is just hard and I think I speak for many people when I say it’s tough academically, physically and emotionally. Leaving for college requires maturity in the ability to make such a decision, determination to devote a much larger chunk of time to school work and confidence and trust in knowing that God is carrying out His plan (check Jeremiah 29:11).

I only needed to pack the last thing on that list, and I prayed and prayed I wouldn’t forget it. I thought I packed it, but maybe it got lost on the way up here. I’m not sure.

My new friends and my roommates are all so awesome and I could not be more blessed where I am – I live in the best dorm, I have the perfect class schedule, and I live in the city with the world’s greatest farmer’s market (and let’s not forget the boys here…). What more could I ask for, right?

For some reason, I still felt a little uncomfortable. At first, I figured it was just the new environment – being away from my family and friends, studying for hours on end, running around like crazy sometimes wishing the days had just a few more hours in them – but after a while that didn’t seem like the answer. I tried to get out more, to get dinner with friends, to meet new people – everything. No matter how much I was out of my dorm, how many times I smiled and laughed at jokes with my friends, or even how many (incredibly) cute boys I met, I still went to bed feeling like something was missing but not knowing what that was.

Laying in bed one night, exhausted from classes, walking/riding my bike around campus (Cal Poly’s hills will kill you) and studying, tears rolled down my face as I realized what I had forgotten.

My bible.

How do I forget my bible – the book I was most attached to? I asked myself as I reached over and grabbed my teddy bear, looking for something that would give me some feeling of relief, something I could squeeze, something from home. It was more than just my bible that I had forgotten. It was my faith, too.

About a week later, I rode with my wonderful roommate Su to Cru, a local church about a mile away from Cal Poly that holds services specifically for students. As I stood and remembered the lyrics to each song, I couldn’t help but reach my hands up in hopes that God would see me, that He’d toss me another bible, that He’d refill the faith I’d forgotten – the faith I needed.

And He did. I prayed – asking for forgiveness, strength, more forgiveness, courage, individuality, more forgiveness, confidence, and so many other things.

Most of all, I just prayed that I wouldn’t ever forget my faith again, no matter where God takes me. Now I know what not having that part of me feels like, and I never want to feel it again.

Through this, I learned to hold on to everything I love and value. My parents, my family, my best friends, my passion for cooking, my blog, my faith and relationship with Jesus Christ – everything. I can’t run the risk of losing any of those aspects of my life.

Yes, college is hard – with or without faith. I won’t deny that. But wrap yourself around what’s most important to you.

Hold on to it tightly, because if you lose it – whatever it is – you could lose yourself.

Amazingly, I am blessed with a Father who will never turn me away no matter how many times I forget my bible at home or how many times I can’t find my faith amidst the mess of textbooks, dirty clothes, college homework, friends and stress.

All I needed was God. Scratch that – all I need is God.

So here’s my point…

Wherever you go, don’t forget what you love and what makes you you. Pack it in every pocket, in every suitcase, in every little crevice you can find, because you’ll need it. Thankfully, God replenished my faith and is continuing to do so day after day.

He’s awesome, Cal Poly is awesome, and life is awesome.

Thank you, God. I hope I’m making You proud. 

Jeremiah 29:11

Welp, Here Goes Nothing!

First Day

The title gave it away, but I’ll still say it – first day!! I’m nervous. I’m excited. I’m anxious. I’m scared. I’m happy. I’m nervous.

Did I mention I’m nervous?

What if I don’t make it to class on time? Or what if I get lost? Dude, college is hard already and I haven’t even been to my first class. This campus is HUGE and no two buildings look the same, which is helpful in that I can remember what one building looks like, but it’s confusing in that I can only remember what that ONE building at a time. And let’s not forget the seemingly manageable-until-the-third-day-hills of Cal Poly. Thank you, mom and dad, for a bike. Seriously, Belle (my beloved roadie) is my new best friend. She gets me anywhere and everywhere and I love her.

Without Belle the Babe-olicious Bike, these stairs would be an everyday thing. Love you, Belle. 

My first class, Women’s Gender Studies, started a little after 10:00 am and was full. Professor Lamoree (at least I think that’s what she wants to be called) rushed in and wasted no time getting right to the nitty-gritty of the class. We had to create a picture of a feminist and then draw it. People, my skills come out when I have weights in my hands or oven mitts on – not when I have a pencil that’s supposed to make a picture, especially of a person. I didn’t snap a picture of my lovely feminist on my phone because Prof. Lamoree scares the chocolate out of me already and I will do whatever she wants to stay on her good side, but I’ll give you a little description. My feminist had hair which was like mine (just a coincidence, because that’s the only hair I can make look like actual hair rather than ugly, dead strings), a t-shirt that read “GIRL POWER”, a longer-than-necessary skirt, and shoes that look like they belong to Minnie Mouse (and probably should stay on Minnie Mouse because she knows how to work them). One arm was awkwardly longer than the other and her legs hinted (or screamed) that she never skips leg-day. And of course Prof. Lamoree wanted to collect these at the end of class. I hid mine under the pile of everyone else’s and got out of there as fast as I could.

Lunch came next, and I seriously debated making lunch at my apartment or getting one of my meals out of the way for the week. I chose to cook at home mostly because I was already heading back that way but also because my last class ends at 7:00 pm tonight and then, of course, homework. I have to figure out a way to not let college business take away my cooking time. Can I prioritize cooking over class? Like Fat Amy in “Pitch Perfect” would say – “Ehh, better not”. However, my lunch proved that Einstein Bros. Bagels, and any restaurant on campus for that matter, ain’t got nothin’ on me. Turkey and mozzarella with honey-mustard and mashed avocado melted over a whole-wheat bagel topped with mixed greens.

Yupp.

English 134, a class all about the joys of writing and the confusion of rhetoric, went from 2:00 pm until 3:00 pm and is my favorite class so far. Professor Porchello blended in with all the students, with her natural hairstyle, tan blouse tucked into dark, skinny jeans, and golden-brown loafers with a heel high enough to add a little height but short enough to wear to work everyday and help her seem like she has at least some connection with my generation and our style. She’s funny, opinionated (but not overwhelmingly so), passionate, and welcoming to everyone. I really like her, and I liked her class even more when she told us we’d be sharing a blog! Yay for English 134!

I had an hour before my next (and last) class for the day, which left me plenty of time to check emails, text a few friends, and, of course, snack. 

My final class (or classes, I guess) started at 4:10 pm and ended at 7:00 pm, with a 15-minute break at around 5:30 when the lecture becomes a lab. On the first day, I didn’t think that break would be necessary, but about a half-hour into the class, I was already checking the time. Don’t get me wrong – I have a feeling that, as the year goes on, this class will become more engaging and exciting, and the professor seems really laid-back and easy to get along with, but his voice is very… soothing? And at the end of a long, exhausting first day of class rushing around this (ginormous) campus, I sat in the comfy swivel office-like chair in this class, listened to Professor Prado ease my classmates and I into what Journalism 203 – News Writing and Reporting would be all about.

I need sleep.

Professor Prado dismissed us a few minutes early and I grabbed dinner on campus with a friend. What was for dinner? Spicy pork stir-fry with steamed vegetables. Don’t be fooled by the mouth-watering sound of that. I had to ask the boy working behind the counter (nicely, of course) like, three times if he could fill the bowl at least halfway, and he sighed, “Sure”, with an eye-roll. Dude, I’m hungry. To my surprise, however, it really wasn’t too bad! But I did leave still a little hungry, which meant only one thing – Ben & Jerry’s. I scooped myself a little bowl of their Cherry Garcia Greek Frozen Yogurt, curled up on the couch surrounded by my lovely roommates, and laughed with them, talked with them, spied on people doing laundry with them, and realized college might not be so hard after all.

Day 1 – check. 

P.S. sorry for the lack of pictures. I feel awkward taking pictures of the not-very-pretty-and-definitely-not-very-tasty campus food, but I promise I will work on photographing more! 

Moving Out, Moving In, and Getting Started

Day One…

“Click, click”. Two pictures taken, three seatbelts buckled, way too much luggage/dorm stuff loaded up, and we were on our way. Driving to the freeway, I kept my eyes locked on everything outside the window, and took mental pictures of the buildings, flowers, palm trees, and everything else that structures what used to be home for me. It feels weird (to say the least) to be leaving this all behind – memories from elementary, junior high, and high school, but pure excitement for what’s ahead of me always takes over any feelings of fear, doubt, or uncertainty.

My parents played the “Alphabet Game” in the car and laughed at 1) my dad’s way-too-advanced vocabulary, 2) my so not-advanced vocabulary (and yes, I’m a journalism major), and 3) the fact that the game lasted about five minutes.

Finally, we pulled up outside my dorm, loaded a huge cart with allllllll my stuff, and headed up to my room. Four out of five of my roommates were unpacking (the other was at orientation) so I introduced my parents and myself and got to work. An hour later, we decided to call it night and finish the rest tomorrow. I’m almost moved in!

We headed to our hotel and agreed on Chinese take-out as our last dinner together (for a while, at least). And I couldn’t have asked for anything more. Boxes of sautéed veggies, spicy chicken, black pepper steak, and potstickers laid out on the bed, chopsticks in hand, we ate, laughed, reminisced, and ate some more. Seriously, it was perfect.

Day two…

It was an early morning for all three of us, but we pretty much just woke up and laid in bed. After about a half hour of snuggling with Mom one last time, we got up, got dressed, and Dad and I went out and got breakfast. Jamba Juice and KIND bar for me, oatmeal, coffee, and bagel with cream cheese for him – the perfect fuel for another long day of moving in!

Today was for unpacking clothes and somehow fitting everything into my room, a target run, and figuring out last minute things I’d be doing on my own from here on out. The first two things – done by noon. The third thing – done by 2:00 pm (and exhausting if I may add). The fourth thing – still doing that.

Today was also the first day of WOW (Week Of Welcome)! My group was met at 3:30 pm and we toured the campus, learned the lyrics to “My Bologna” by Weird Al, and meditated. Strange? Yeah.

After dinner was this big ceremony where President Armstrong welcomes all the new students and the athletes, band members, cheerleaders, and parents all wish us luck on this new and exciting journey. The football stadium was packed, music blared, and excitement and a little fear rushed through all of us. Saying goodbye to my parents was hard – my mom shed a few tears and I tried (and failed) to hold mine in. My dad was pretty successful in keeping dry eyes.

The President’s speech left me nervous, anxious, pumped, excited, scared, and proud all at the same time. I’m nervous, anxious, kind of scared, and a little excited to be leaving my parents and friends and living on my own, and I’m pumped, still kind of scared, nervous, and proud to be starting classes at such an amazing school.

So to wrap things up, here I am, day two of my first week at Cal Poly. I’m exhausted, but so ready – ready for my future, ready for having fun, ready for growing up and finding me.

10 Things About Packing for College

1.     It’s the most exciting thing I’ve done all summer, and I’ve done some pretty exciting stuff! For example, I pet sharks and sting-rays at the zoo, babysat two (sometimes three, if baby Milania was included) hilarious kids during the week, launched my blog, cooked amazing meals for my friends and family, relaxed and rode bikes on the beach, hiked in beautiful, warm Malibu wilderness, saw fireworks from our friends’ backyard in Pacific Beach (and stayed in a $500/night hotel room which was absolutely stunning), and spent so much but still somehow not enough time with my family and friends. And packing for school is probably my favorite.

2.     Yes, it’s fun and exciting and all that jazz, but it’s a lot of work. I can’t count the number of times I walked up and down and up and down and up and down the stairs or how many times I zipped and unzipped my suitcase, or how many times I seriously questioned the possibility of fitting everything that I wanted to take in the car.

3.     Unless you live somewhere it’s not 105 degrees right now (like my brother, who lives in Minnesota where the high today was 55 degrees), you WILL sweat. Look back at #2 – with all that stair climbing and suitcase zipping, you’re gonna’ sweat. Wear deodorant.

4.     Even if it has already hit you that you’re actually moving out and even if you think you’re so emotionally stable to the point where even MC Hammer can’t touch you and even if you’re going to Cal Poly SLO which is the greatest school ever and you’ve got absolutely nothing to lose and absolutely everything to gain, you’ll get emotional. However, you do that, it’ll happen, and that’s normal. Don’t freak out – just take a little break. Hug your parents, eat some sweet potato fries and cookies, think about everything that’s ahead of you, and get back to work.

5.     Get someone who’s… well… heavy enough to sit on your suitcase because it should be stuffed. I packed almost every piece of clothing in my closet into two suitcases (talent?) and had to take a few dumb-bells with me to add extra weight so that my suitcases would zip when I sat on them. And believe me, the sound of the zipper zipping up completely was one of my favorite sounds today.

6.     This one is for those of you who haven’t quite grown up all the way like me. Pick in advance which stuffed animals you’ll be taking with you. Otherwise, you’ll spend too much valuable time juggling which ones will be joining you at school and it will just add more stress.

7.     Play your favorite music really loud all day. It’s great because you can sing and dance while you work. Duh.

8.     If you come across something from when you were little that brings back memories (for me, it was my journal from 6th grade), try not to spend too much time reminiscing. Save that for when you’ve finished packing. Besides, it’ll just reinforce #4. Eat another cookie instead.

9.     Pick your outfit for the next day or two and pack them on top of your suitcase. I always forget to do this and end up trying to carefully lift layers upon layers of clothes off my suitcase to get to the shirt and still messing up those layers I moved because it’s just impossible to get to the bottom of anything without messing up the top.

10.  Finally, just have fun. Turn up your music (mine was everything from Demi Lovato to Jack Johnson to Chris Brown), spend time with your family, and GET EXCITED!! 

The Countdown

T minus seven days and I’m out.

It’s so crazy to me how incredibly fast time flies. I feel like I started my senior year and ended it all in the same week. Now, I’m about to start college, my brother is finishing up – soon enough I’ll be walking down the aisle or something! Just kidding. I don’t plan on getting hitched anytime soon, unless of course, it would make my last name “Efron”.

I do, however, plan on walking down the aisle in the grocery store in about an hour. Does that count?

Anyway, it recently hit me that I’ll be a college-student VERY soon. Let me tell you – this week could not go by faster. I’m so excited I might just pee my pants right here in this coffee shop (Canabru, if you’re wondering). But it’s my favorite one and I don’t think they’d want me back in here if I did that. I can hold it.

To be honest, I was scared at first. The idea of going somewhere completely new and living there, going to school there, having to make all new friends there freaked me out. I knew I’d be uncomfortable. I even had cold-feet at one point, wondering why I wanted to leave a place where everything was so familiar – the place where my home is, where my friends live, where I went to school for almost twelve years. I asked myself why I chose to drive three and a half hours up the coast, where I’d never gone before, and start over.

The past few weeks have challenged me more than I thought I ever could be challenged. I felt like I had been pushed to my breaking point, like I’d “hit rock bottom” if you will, for reasons I’ll tell you another time (stay tuned).

So I prayed and prayed and prayed and prayed. Then I prayed some more. And somehow, God gave me such reassurance and confidence in my decision. Cal Poly SLO is where He wants me, and I just have to trust Him.

When people ask me what I’m most excited for, my answer is pretty broad – “I just can’t wait to explore!” I want to explore new people and new friends, new coffee shops and new grocery stores, new classes and new teachers – the list goes on. I’ll have everything I need and more to find who I am, what I want, and what in the world I’m supposed to do with my time here.

I’ve learned that, at some point in your life, you kind of have to hit rock bottom and be terrified. Why? Because it teaches you to suck it up, get up, and keep your chin up. I know that sounds a little harsh, but sometimes life itself is just harsh. And once you gain the strength to fight the harsh stuff, you become so much stronger and your outlook completely changes.

In the end, when it’s all over, you look back and thank God for all of it, because now you’re here, and here is where you’re supposed to be. To me, I love knowing that right now in this very moment, I’m exactly where God wants me. Tonight, He wants me at my friend’s house with my wonderful family for dinner. In a week, He wants me in the car heading up to my future. Ten years from now, I don’t know where He’ll want me, but He’ll get me there.

And I’m excited for that, too.

:)

Heartbreak Happens

Let’s face it – sometimes, a recipe doesn’t turn out as you wanted it to. You bought all the right ingredients, followed every single step (even the tedious ones), and it still wasn’t right. Then you’re left asking yourself what in the world went wrong. And if that answer were easy to find, you probably wouldn’t even be looking for it because the recipe would have come out like it was supposed to in the first place.

What I’m saying, is that sometimes, you have this plan – a plan that you have been assured would work itself out, a plan that wasn’t supposed to fail because you know what you’re doing. But then for some reason it does fail. And you’re left wondering why. You look around to see what could have caused it. You even ask yourself if you were the cause, but you know you couldn’t have been. So now what? You never really had a Plan B because Plan A was Plan A for a reason – it was going to work! There are two options – either let it all go downhill from here, or get your stuff together and make a new plan. When you’re not in the situation, the latter seems like the obvious route to take, but when you’re going through all this, your stuff is all over the floor and you don’t even know where to start cleaning up, nor do you have the energy to do so.

Back to the first situation for a quick second. So the recipe you had planned for a dinner party that was supposed to be perfect and delicious did NOT work. Your stove wouldn’t heat up, you over-cooked the steak, your guests were all eating gluten-free and vegetarian and informed you of this after the spaghetti and meatballs had been cooked and plated – whatever it is, you’re feeling kind of screwed. You have two choices – either tell your guests the party is off because the food is useless, or pile everyone in the car and head out for pizza (unless your guests are the gluten-free/vegetarian ones – in which case you’ll have to find a pizza place to suit their diets). After weighing each option, which sounds like more fun? Cleaning up a bunch of spaghetti and meatballs all on your own or not letting the unfortunate situation ruin everyone’s night and eating greasy, cheesy pizza?

When Plan A knocks you down on your knees to the point where it hurts so bad you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to walk again, you can either take the wheelchair forever or take a minute or two to pray (since you’re in the perfect position), then stand up, forget the diet for one night, and get some pizza, I guess.

I’ve been right there recently – literally on my knees, begging for God to hear me. Thousands of prayers later, I got up. My pizza didn’t come with cheese, pepperoni, or sausage. Instead, it came with friends, family, food, and peace.

Heartbreak happens. And when it does, if you’re like me, you won’t call it “heartbreak” right away because that sounds dramatic, but you’ll realize that there’s nothing else quite like it, nothing else that can describe it. It’s okay to be heartbroken – it happens to everyone at some point, one way or another, and we get through it. We learn from it, we grow, and we move on.

I know, believe me – I know – it hurts and it’s disappointing. A heart is one of the hardest things to sew together once it’s been torn. Sometimes it sews itself back up, and sometimes others can help you sew it. However it’s done, it won’t be broken forever. There are plenty of dinner parties to be had. Whenever you’re ready, just try it again. 

Thank God It's... Wednesday?

Long story short – it's been a long week and a half. Stressing, worrying, crying, arguing, wishing, hoping, praying, hurting, but today…

Today there was smiling. Today there was inner-peace.

I feel like a yogi saying “inner-peace”. My friends and family know I’m probably the farthest thing from a calm, tranquil, peaceful yogi. I actually have to force myself to do a 20-minute yoga video once or twice a month, and when I am successful, I reward myself.

Sorry, that was all just a little side-story that was probably pointless, but it ran through my brain so I shared it. So there.

Anyway, it’s been a while since I’ve felt like this. To add to my much-needed happiness, my mom asked me if I wanted to go to Williams Sonoma and shop around a little. Ladies and gentlemen, there is never a need to ask me such a silly question.

YES OF COURSE, I want to go to Williams Sonoma.

Macy’s was our first stop when we got to the Brea Mall, and we picked up a few kitchen necessities for my dorm-room. A little clothes-shopping done (like my new donut-socks?), and we were headed to Williams Sonoma. Heaven.

Sure, I can walk around and check out all the gadgets, supplies, tools, baking sheets and what not, but where I’ll really get stuck are the bookshelves. Seriously, if you take me to any store that sells cookbooks, don’t plan on leaving in ten minutes.

And if you take me to Williams Sonoma, don’t plan on making it home before midnight. The bookshelves aren’t very big, but they hold every book I’ll ever want to read – everything from Giada’s “Feel Good Food” to Ina Garten’s “Barefoot Contessa Foolproof” to “Williams Sonoma Breakfast Comforts Cookbook”.

If I won the lottery, I’d just buy probably every cookbook on those shelves. When I read one, it’s seriously like I’m in my own little world, imagining myself all grown up in my own kitchen cooking all these gourmet, healthy recipes for my family, not having a single thing to worry about. I can’t wait for that time to come.

When I realized I didn’t know where my mom was, I figured it was time to go (only because she was my ride home). I found her next door in Pottery Barn.

She’s got her thing. I’ve got mine.

Hoping to avoid traffic, we headed out to the car and hit the road. Then we hit traffic. At 5:30 pm on a Tuesday night when we’re exhausted from shopping for two hours, traffic usually puts us in a bad mood, but I was determined not to let that happen. I put on some music, reclined my chair, closed my eyes and just relaxed.

Who cares when we got home? Traffic won’t keep us stuck for hours, more like thirty minutes. I didn’t have any plans for the night, and I was enjoying just singing quietly with the music and letting my thoughts just go where they wanted – something I hadn’t been allowing myself to do much lately.

Sure enough, we got home around 6:00. No big deal, silly traffic.

“Hey mom, what’s for dinner?” I asked, my dad wondering the same thing. I opened the fridge before she could answer and saw a Tupperware container holding leftovers that would make this day go from really good to really awesome – salmon.

A couple minutes on the grill to re-heat it, and dinner was served (with a simple salad, balsamic-roasted broccoli, and a lemon wedge). I can’t ever find the words to describe how salmon makes me feel, so I’ll just stop talking and not ruin it.

Then, there was dessert. When I’m just hanging out at home with my parents, I don’t usually crave dessert. That’s more of something I’ll do with my friends.

But tonight, there was dessert. Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia FroYo to be exact – thanks to my lovely mother. I scooped way more than the recommended serving size in a bowl, plopped on the couch, and watched “Teen Beach Movie”. Why that movie? Good question, I still don’t know the answer.

This may seem like a regular day – nothing too exciting or life-changing (besides my cookbook-encounter), but that’s what made it perfect. After a long week and a half of trying to figure out God’s plan for me and why He is doing what He is doing, I needed a day to just breathe, a day to just let things happen the way they’re supposed to. I don’t know what’ll happen tomorrow, or in a week when I pack up and head to SLO, or in four years when I’m graduating, so I am realizing how important it is to control what I can – which is how I feel right now.

Right now, I can choose to worry about who I’ll marry, or if I’ll be able to make a living, or I can choose to let God take control of those problems, and I can be happy with now. 

The Pancake Princess's Tortilla

I was having a really good morning today. I woke up without the help of my annoying alarm, KILLED it in my workout (killed it so hard I had to stop before I killed myself), sat outside afterwards to drink my protein shake and devour two of my Peanut Butter Fudge Protein Bars, emailed back and forth with my roommates to figure out who’s bringing what, and… wait for it… dyed my hair! Well, no, not like a-completely-different-color-dyed, but I guess I got what are called “peek-a-boo’s”? It’s just a few blonde streaks scattered and hidden throughout my hair. Anyway, I did this all before 12:30 pm.

On my way home from my hair appointment, I had one of those food-ah hah! moments when a certain recipe comes to mind and there’s just no better time to make it than now. Today, it was The Pancake Princess’s Chickpea Tortillas (vegan and GF). For those of you don’t know, she’s my favorite. Like, whenever I’m having a hard time showing my parents or friends something on my blog, I pull up hers and just point to whatever I want to show them and go, “Seeee?” Then they get it.

Back to the tortillas, I had no doubts about this recipe whatsoever because I know Erika is a superhero when it comes to food. Long story short, I pretty much skimmed over the recipe and all her helpful hints (bad idea) and ignored the fact that my batter was way too thick. Long story short – my tortillas were more like pancakes. Now, is this really such an unfortunate situation – ending up with pancakes? Not really, however, I was a little disappointed.

But I did what I know best – PB & B it, baby. I slathered on a big glob of peanut butter and piled it high with thick banana slices. To finish it off: a sprinkle of cinnamon and a drizzle or two (or three or four) of agave nectar. I like to think of PB & B similar to how an alcoholic thinks of, well, alcohol – works every time, always there when you need it, never fails to make you feel better.

Unless you go HAM with it and put way too much PB on your leftover B, in which case you wind up with an uncomfy tummy.

But I reminded myself that I woke up without any tears (or stupid alarms) this morning, punched the heck out of my punching bag in my workout, talked to my roommates, and got some new hurrrr. I wasn’t about to let a tortilla mishap ruin what could be the only day this week I get through with dry eyes.

Well, I tried. I broke down about an hour after lunch.

It’s been an extremely challenging week and I was hoping for just one day of not worrying about everything that’s been going on. And as cliché as this sounds, you can’t always get what you want, which stands true with family, friends, work, sports, and, yes, even food. Sometimes, a recipe doesn’t turn like you had hoped it would, but don’t just throw the food away. Fix it up. About ninety percent of the time, something can be done (the other ten percent being blackened toast, rotten fruit, moldy yogurt, rubbery aka overcooked eggs). You just have to take what you like best (PB & B for me) and do a little re-arranging.

You might spend a year and a half thinking that something is sure, that it’s strong, and that its going to last forever, no matter how many times you hear that “now is a time for change” and “it’s what everyone goes through”. At first, none of those meant-to-be-reassuring statements do squat. Hearing them five times a day made me want fry up my ears like chicken thighs for dinner. I was sick of hearing it. I wanted things the way I had planned for them to be – the way we had planned for them to be. But as you mature, you realize that there are other things that can be done. For example, a tortilla doesn’t always have to be rolled up as a shell for juicy taco meat. Sometimes, it’s better just how it is, flat, on a plate, covered by PB & B.

Basically, what I’m saying is that things won’t always turn out like they do in pictures or in your mind – which, for lack of better words, sucks when it happens. But if you keep an open mind and remember what I told you about ninety percent of the time, you’ll find an alternative.

And it’ll be okay.