I like coffee

So if you ask anyone that remotely knows me at all or has perhaps interacted with me in the past once, or maybe people that just see me walking around every now and then, they will tell you that I like coffee. I love coffee. It's so good. When it's cold out, you put some milk and cinnamon in it and it warms you right up. When it's cold out, you put it on ice with some caramel flavoring and it's the most refreshing thing you'll ever taste. That being said, I am usually not just a general "coffee" lover. Ever since I was independent enough to go out and get my own coffee (November of my junior year in high school when I got my license), I pledged die-hard loyalty to Starbucks. I went multiple times a day. I became good friends with the baristas at the one near my house, and the saddest part of graduating was getting my last iced coffee from my friends at the Starbucks down the street from my high school. When I decided to attend Penn State, I already had the two State College locations of Starbucks mapped out in my head (actually, there's a third on North Atherton by Target, with a drive-thru!) and visited the one on Garner St. the morning of my FTCAP in June. Thus began a new era of my relationship with coffee. Throughout freshmen year, a time of unfamiliarity and change, my iced lattes were the only constant in my life. I missed my friends at the Jenkintown and Flourtown Starbucks back home, but I was getting closer with my new pals at the State College locations every day. Scott is my favorite.

But college is a time for change -- a time to question your beliefs. I was hesitant when my friend forced me to try Dunkin Donuts for the first time. My world was shaken when I discovered that I loved it. I've gone back three times since Sunday, and back to Starbucks only once. Though I have changed in several ways since I started college, my imminent conversion to Dunkin Donuts may be the most drastic.My friends think so, too, according to the feedback on my most recent and pretentious mobile upload (right). My relationship with coffee in the past year has really made me think about how much I too have changed in different ways. Through all the different things I've had to deal with and question in myself, I've been drinking coffee at least once a day. There are probably serious health repercussions for this habit, but it's sentimental and I'm keeping up with it. I could be spending my time on money on worse, right? ... Right?

Go your own way.

Books are good stuff. Just ask these rapping raisins or this assonant aardvark, Arthur. Even textbooks, which have been central to our American education and contain facts, formulas, and anecdotes that enlighten us beyond our own imagination, are cool because sometimes you can return them for cash. Badum ching. I have always had a special place in my heart for books. My first word was, "Hush," because my parents told me what the old lady in Goodnight, Moon said every night. My library card was taken away in kindergarten because I had six overdrawn Amelia Bedelia chapter books. The only adult truly capable of disciplining me was Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle. In second grade, I tore through my entire box set of E.B. White novels about pigs, swans, and mice. The summer before eighth grade, I read The Catcher in the Rye in two days and still harbor a little bit of a crush on Holden Caulfield. Although I can think of at least a dozen other books with which I feel a deep, nostalgic emotional attachment, my copy of The Way of the Peaceful Warrior is my most prized possession.

The book that changes lives? Kind of a lofty claim for a tagline. But, for me at least, this book lived up to  that. The summer of 2009, I was spending my summer alone at my shore house after a miserable junior year of high school. I had been an avid fan of singer-songwriter Jason Mraz for several months (don't judge--his live stuff is totally different than what you've heard on the radio and AMAZING) and enjoyed reading his blog, Freshness Factor Five Thousand. One post featured a list of books he had enjoyed and suggested, and with nothing better to do, I drove to a bookstore and picked up a few. Way of the Peaceful Warrior was one of the books, and my life has never been the same since I turned to the first page.
I think my favorite thing about books is that every now and then, there's a sentence or paragraph that just hits you in the gut and heart and head all at the same time. The words kind of vibrate off the page because they articulate something you previously could not, or reveal a truth you never even knew you knew. Way of the Peaceful Warrior is literally full of words like that--exactly what I needed to hear, even if I didn't want to hear it. Written by Dan Millman, it's a partly autobiographical novel about a college student who meets a gas station attendant who takes him on an enlightening journey of personal growth. Although it got a little New Age-y at times, it taught me to take responsibility for my life, my emoitions, and my actions. I had spent a tormenting few months prior to reading the book fearing that I would never know happiness, and this book taught me that, "Happiness is not just something you feel, it is who you are." Life literally opens up for you when you adopt this, and many other principle featured in the novel. Some people say it about the Bible: I am who I am because of this book. Life stayed exactly the same, but my perception of it got exponentially awesome-er after I finished this book. I even won VIP tickets to a Jason Mraz concert the next week, and got to meet him and watch the show from backstage. And yes, I got him to sign my copy of Way of the Peaceful Warrior. 

Best. Night. Of my life.

So my advice today is to go find a book that's going to change your life. It doesn't have to be this one, although I highly recommend it. Just keep an open mind and read on!

Flip flop hooray

I was born and mostly raised in the South. Between Atlanta and Houston, I took my first steps and played hide and seek in a humid, sticky heat that lasted mostly year-round. Then I moved to Connecticut, then Philadelphia. I was no longer afforded the luxury of outdoor swimming pools in February or sleeveless dresses in November. However, what I missed the most was warm-weather footwear. I was known to rock my translucent jelly sandals until multiple inches of snow fell. To this day I wonder why I go to college above the Mason-Dixon line or anywhere that is not San Diego. Things haven't changed much, however, and I've established a protocol for dressing for the weather. You can either:
   a) Try to predict and adjust for the weather. A few days ago I wore a huge Gortex windbreaker because my smartphone stupidly told me it would rain. It didn't. Which is why the other choice is...
   b) Ignore it completely.

I often choose choice B. March 1st. I stepped out in flip flops. My toes were not happy with me and threatened secession from my metatarsals. Whatever, March is the beginning of flip flop season and I'm supporting it. Which brings me to the point of my positivity blog post. There are few things better than slipping on a pair of flip flops, especially when it's actually warm enough to wear them outside. Flip flops mean so many things:

Photo credit goes here!

• Amazing weather: It is proven fact that good weather means good mood. Wearing flip flops just lets your feet in on the good vibes outside. 
• Changing seasons: Happy days are here again! With every flip and every flop, you're putting behind you the gloomy days of salted sidewalks and air so cold your esophagus hurts when you breathe. It can only get warmer from here.*
• Comfort: Whenever I see Rainbow Sandals in a store, I have a compulsive urge to purchase yet another pair. Yet I always come back to the pair I've had since eighth grade because the leather has worn down in all the right places. They look nothing like they did when I bought them, but they're lovingly distressed.
• Convenience: Say goodbye to that pesky, physically exhausting task of pulling on boots or tying laces! Flip flops literally slide on your feet as you walk towards them. Besides saving your precious energy for more important things, most flip flops tend to go with anything, from gym shorts to a sun dress. A slightly fancier pair even went with my graduation gown, to the dismay of several nuns and my mother.
• Reminiscence: Everything good happens in the summer, and for that reason my flip flops have been beneath me for some of the best moments of my life. From tailgating countless Dave Matthews Band concerts to endless hours on the beach to senior week to my first day of college, my trusty Rainbows have been there for me and I always recall how awesome life is when I slap around in them.

Currently, it's sixty degrees and sunny where I am. It'll probably get much chillier as night falls but honestly I don't care. Flip flops on. So I urge everyone to break out your own pair, maybe get a pedicure if you need it, and rock your flops! Celebrate with this classic, because I'm think Naughty by Nature got the lyrics wrong. Flip Flop Hooray, Hoooooh Heyyyy Hoooohh.

* Global warming political statement

Keep calm and carry on.

Don't get me wrong, I love college (in both the Asher Roth way and the Sam Adams way) but this whole academic obligation/homework/paper/exam aspect of college is really cramping my style. I thought that without my parents to nag me about everything, living on my own a few hours away would mean no worries for the rest of my days. However, the fact is that I'm here to learn. And almost just as importantly, get good grades. This past week has been extremely stressful, with presentations, speeches, exams, and papers all due on top of one another. It's so easy to get caught up in making flashcards, checking my grades on Angel, pulling all nighters, and complaining about how stressful my life is. But the truth, that I often forget, is that no matter how I do this semester, everything's going to be alright. Doing my best in everything is definitely worth it, but stressing out about it is definitely not. There have been countless times in high school when I cried into my physiology textbook and nearly fainted when I failed an AP Gov test. If I'd known that I'd be doing as well as I am today, I could have saved myself the hysterics. That's what we have to keep in mind when school gets stressful. Life is good! If you just stay calm and do what needs to be done, everything works itself out. And even if it doesn't, a bad grade won't kill you. Seriously. Take a page from Timon and Pumba and chill out and get happy! We're all gonna make it through this semester.

 

What have you done today?

"What would you attempt to do if you knew you would not fail?" - Dr. Robert H. Schuller

I've heard this quote innumerable times. In fact, it was on my second grade teacher's bulletin board -- incorrectly attributed to Albert Einstein, but that's besides the point (it's also a little ironic if you're someone that throws around the phrase, "Epic fail"). Anyway, my point is that I've been asked this question so many times but I've never even considered my own answer to it. The fact is, however, that we humans do pretty amazing things. Check out just a few of my favorite amazing feats:

64-Year-Old Kayaks Across Atlantic Ocean

These days airplanes can take you across the pond in less than seven hours against a headwind. Crossing an ocean just isn't really a big deal anymore because when you're sitting in a chair in the sky, you have more important things to focus on like the gross airplane food. But this guy did it in a kayak. Alone. And he qualifies for AARP discounts. He even tweeted a little bit. Follow him! This guy's average speed was only 1.4 miles per hour during his trip from Senegal to Brazil, and he got there in 98 days, 23 hours, and 42 minutes. And the first thing he did when he landed was pop open a beer! He's awesome.

20-Somethings Perform Insane Hand Choreography

There are no words for this. Next time you hear this song at a party or in the background on Jersey Shore, think of these clapping prodigies. Also, you make recognize them from a McDonald's commercial for McLattes... curious.

College Students Raise 9.5 Million for Pediatric Cancer

Just some college kids, raisin' some money for some kids. No big deal.

The Penn State IFC/Panhellenic Dance Marathon, or THON, is the largest student-run philanthropy in the world. This past weekend, THON raised over 9.5 MILLION dollars going towards treatments and research for pediatric cancer. As a Penn State student inolved in THON, I can honestly say that it was an honor to have participated in something so much bigger than me -- even bigger than life at the University Park campus. Probably bigger than anything any of us will ever know. Margaret Mead once said, "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has." THON, although with over 15,000 students participating may not count as small, is a testament to this belief, and when the day comes that a cure for cancer saves billions of lives, we can know that we were integral to changing the world.

In so many different ways, humans manage to awe each other with strength, diligence, and commitment every single day. What are you going to do to be one of them?

Train dodge. Dig it.

Every single summer, I vacation at my family's two-room beach house in Strathmere, New Jersey, a town known mostly for being that stretch between the toll bridges connecting Ocean City and Sea Isle City. Exactly one square mile large, Strathmere is too small for a public sewage system, let alone a cable grid. There's only so much sun a fair-skinned redhead like myself can withstand, so at least once a summer I scour the local video rental store's limited selection of VHS tapes. It doesn't matter whether I've spent the majority of my summer making sandcastles, riding my Razor scooter, or sneaking out to the lifeguard stands; I always arrive, sunburned and sticky with aloe lotion, to the same battered movie case, and I know I won't be searching past the "s" section of tapes. I'm bringing home Stand by Me. 

Back in our warped, shag-carpeted living room, I follow Gordie LaChance, Vern Tessio, Teddy Duchamp, and Chris Chambers on their two-day trek along the railroad tracks in search of the corpse of Ray Brower, a fellow twelve-year-old rumored to have been hit by a train.

Like slipping on my leather flip flops for the first time since September, I take comfort in the film's familiarity and savor the anticipation of an unforgettable summer adventure. Stand by Me has taught me invaluable lessons about growing up, having friends, enjoying the present, being yourself, and dodging trains. And still, even though I know the secret knock, where the stolen lunch money went, and all the lyrics to the "Ballad of Palladin," I learn something new every time I watch the move, which has to be in the hundreds. Teddy taught me that little moments, like sitting around a fire with your best friends, can sustain you through tougher times in other aspects of your life. Vern is incessantly teased (one of my favorite lines: "Sorry, Vern. I guess a more experienced shopper could have gotten more for your seven cents.") yet he's earnest and not afraid to be himself, even it that's kinda weird. Gordie and Chris (who I'll always have a little bit of a crush on) also emphasize the importance of forging your own path, whether it's becoming a writer or lawyer, despite the obstacles your past will put in front of you. When I watched it when I was little, the characters seemed so much older than me -- practically adults. Now that I'm way closer to adulthood than they are, they still seem much wiser than I am.

I never had any friends later on like the ones I had when I was twelve.
Jesus, does anyone?

Go with the Snow

The news channels are flickering with shots of snow plows maneuvering tons of slush, a leashed dog and its owner negotiating icy sidewalks, and a multicolored map of your area with blobs of white moving so fast you immediately feel some sort of urgency. Letters in red glide across the bottom of the screen: "WINTER STORM WATCH: Severe snow storm expected in next 24 hours."

Challenge accepted.

February is pretty late in the game to get excited about snow. By now your boots look like a yeti had them for a snack, your mittens are constantly soggy, and your 'do is permanently in a matted, static-y state of hat hair. However, this is the snowfall homestretch. You've honed your expertise for months. It's game time. Let's review the events:

Practicality at its chilliest.

• Snow stepping: Everyone else is wearing clunky boots. You stepped out in sneakers/moccasins/flip flops. But since you're a seasoned veteran of the season, you can still get around. While this noob ahead of you is trudging through the snow in nylon and rubber boots, you're prancing along behind him by stepping in all the nice foot-shaped holes he left for you. 
• Flake catching: If all the rain drops were lemondrops and gumdrops, nobody would care because catching candy is way less fun than catching snow flakes on your tongue. Advanced flake catching takes a steady eye and a low center of gravity. Weeks of plyometric training has prepared you for this moment.
• Shoveling: Aside from a great source of cardio and maybe some extra cash, excellent shoveling is a great way to make a name for yourself in the neighborhood. Dog-walkers and postmen alike will rejoice at the easy strides they can enjoy of your little strip of concrete. Good shoveling requires the right combination of salt and athleticism. Some say good fences make good neighbors. I say fences divide us. Sidewalks bring us together. And there's no better way to spread the love than shoveling not just your own sidewalk but also your neighbors. It helps if you do it perfectly.
• Igloo constructing: Igloos and/or snow forts are useful in many situations, including having a bunker for heated snowball fights and sitting inside and patting yourself on the back for making an igloo in the first place. Elaborate architecture is especially impressive. At the very least, add a shelf for your snowball arsenal. If you wanna get fancy, there's no limit of the roof angles, flying buttresses, home theaters, etc.

While everyone else is flocking to the grocery store for eggs, milk, and bread (apparently french toast is a snowstorm staple food) you're warming up for the big day. It's the calm before the storm, and not the kind your weatherman is talking about. You're going El Nino on this snow. Just because you might be too old for snow days doesn't mean you can't use it as an excuse for a good time. You're gonna own this snow. Get out there and make this snow your bitch with athleticism and, as we will always encourage, an optimistic disposition of competition and gratitude.

Get Your Fun On

Know what's cool? Not littering. Know what's cooler? Listening as your yogurt cup plummets to the center of the Earth.

Know what's cool? Feeling like a rugged badass for taking the stairs next to escalator-riders. Know what's cooler? Performing "Chopsticks" as you ascend, Big style.

The Fun Theory makes these imaginative upgrades a reality. This creative initiative, sponsored by Volkswagen, operates on the philosophy that plain and simple fun is the best incentive for changing behavior. Check out these videos to see how fun is taking Stockholm by storm:

The Fun Theory is a team of artists, electricians, engineers, carpenters, filmmakers, fun-havers, etc., who commit hours of manual labor and brain power to making fun an every day occurrence. As a college student, I've noticed that most of us tend to reserve fun for weekend evenings (or mornings, if it's game day) and it always involves the consumption of something it is illegal to consume on some level. It's easy to postpone a good time until whenever the pre-game starts that night, but why let an entire day of potential fun slip through your fingers?
Remember when walking down a sidewalk was a lanky, lopsided dance because you didn't want your Sketchers to touch any of the cracks? The structural integrity of your mother's spine depended on that fun little game you played walking to the playground. Let's bring that back. Maybe my memory is deceiving me, I was never, ever bored as a kid. Everything was fun, except for when my montessori classmate, Hannah, a.k.a. Hannibal, bit my arm like, every single day. My point is that we've all lost sight of that perspective (having fun, not cannibalism) as we've grown older and taken on more responsibilities, more places we have to be, more social norms to which we need to conform. We live in an environment that should foster fun, but we overlook it most of the time. The Fun Theory and it's entertaining installations remind us of the power of fun, not just to brighten our days but also to change our habits for the better.
As the founder, president, writer, intern, janitor, choreographer, and backscratcher here at Positively Positivity, I am no stranger to fun. Whatever you do, however mundane the task may be, is an opportunity to have fun.

High Fivin' It.

Today, we're going to talk about an American past-time. No, it's not baseball, and no again, it's not Jersey Shore. It's the high five. Relive it with me: elbow bending at the perfectly relaxed 90-degree angle, milliseconds of anticipation as both hands raise and move toward each other, and that satisfying palm-to-palm smack. BOOM.

That's the sound of a good moment giving birth to a great day. I don't know who you are, where you come from, or what you're about -- but I know that you gotta love that beautifully loud high five and its ten finger-crack. Though simple (and majestic) to the eye, a good high five is a culmination of several skills:

Mad skill.

• Hand-eye coordination: Without this, what could have been some serious thunder is now a forceful grazing of the pinky fingers. And that is just not satisfying at all. It's also awkward. (Tip: Look at the other person's elbow when you go in for the slap)
• Delivery:  Raise that hand high and throw your back into it. High fives are meant to be loud; leave every ounce of force in your muscles on the other person's hand to achieve maximum smack status. 
• Attention: This is absolutely crucial. I personally feel that one day is a constant string of moments that could merit a high five. You have to be ready for it at all times, not only so you can take part in the awesomeness of the move but also to ensure that you don't get smacked in the face -- or worse, accidentally smack someone else in the face.
• Guts: Every time you go up for the high five, you're putting yourself out there. It's a vulnerable moment. Someone could leave you hangin', and then you'd have to scratch your head or pretend to wave to someone far off on the horizon. But you gotta put it out there to get it back. The satisfaction of a mutual smack between friends (or strangers) is one of life's greatest pleasures, and it's so worth the effort. In the words of Johnny Tsunami, "Go big or go home."

High fives amp the greatness of every possible moment. They can be congratulatory, like when you answer a question right in class, sink a jump shot, or succeed in not eating it on the icy walk to class. They can be celebratory, like when someone more athletic than you scores a jump shot, or when you find out class was cancelled. They can be congenial, like when you find someone else who will only eat the extra crunchy variety of peanut butter. They can be encouraging, like when you unintentionally fold on a four-of-a-kind and need something to alleviate the humiliation. Anything and everything deserves a high five. Think about that as you go through your day and you'll realize what a great day it really is. High five for being alive. It's actually quite a feat when you think about it.