Apps and Naps

January 15, 2016Leave a comment

My body’s reaction to my final semester of college PC: Cara Difabio

Oh hey, hello there. It’s me. I hope everyone had the best holiday and is staying warm wherever the new year may have taken you.

As I begin to think about packing (yes, I go back to Boston Sunday) for my last semester in Boston, it dawns on me that A. I am procrastinating and 2. These are my last days home as an undergraduate (commence panic attack). While I spend these last few days home alternating between job applications and napping, I realize that more or less, the only thing standing between me and my diploma is four months and three classes.

WHERE HAS THE TIME GONE?

I remember trying to decide what colleges to apply to, and whether early decision was the right choice for me (I knew I wanted to go to BU right away, and luckily I got in ED). I realized a few weeks ago that my future has been planned out for me from birth.

Okay, not in the dramatic way where my parents decided who I would marry, where I would live or anything like that. But rather, I knew what was expected of me from the moment my twin sister and I stepped foot on the hallowed ground of our elite private school at the ripe age of 11.

My parents worked hard to make sure my sisters and I understood that things in life did not come easy, that despite our comfortable lives, hard work remained a necessity.

My grandparents, on both sides of the family tree, worked hard to build lives for themselves. I feel #blessed to have such great role models in my life. Don’t get me wrong, much to my parents chagrin I somehow still feel that I know the answer to everything despite my young 21-years. Go figure.

I never questioned if I would finish high school and attend college. I never wondered if I would get a Bachelor’s degree, or an Associate’s. The future always held positivity. Not necessarily in the up-beat definition, but rather in the factual way. I just knew. I knew I would go to college. I knew I would go for four years. I knew my parents would be proud no matter what, but I also knew that I craved… knowledge.

Here I am, four years later, and I realize that all of this is about to change. I no longer know what the future holds. I know where I’d like to live, what I’d like to do (and put my education and tuition to good use). The real question lies in what will happen.

This stage of my life is all about… well, about‘s. I can tell I am on the brink, the cusp, the edge of glory if you will, of something. Something big. A change- graduation?

So, while my friends shy away from the g-word, I cling to my visceral reaction because I know it is not quite here yet. I know that I have some time, a few more months to understand that this isn’t the end, but just the beginning. An end of a chapter, but still in the first few pages in the book that makes up my life… so to speak. Wow could I be anymore cliche?

Well, that’s enough about that. Expect another post sometime next week from Boston!

Stay classy, sassy and warm, beautiful peeps!

2016.

January 1, 2016Leave a comment

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Shady Ladies

Holy mother of God how can it be 2016?! You know what this means… this is the end of the beginning. Or perhaps just a new beginning altogether. My classmates and I, being the class of 2016, will (hopefully) receive our diplomas in a few short months. I am turning 22 in six weeks. I know I say this all the time, and I am somewhat of a broken record when it comes to certain things, but I honestly have no idea where the time went.

As I sit here, still in Florida, it’s easy for me to lose count of the days and just succumb to the every day life of a college student on winter break, free of responsibilities and commitments. I can feel the death stares from the post-grad readers. Don’t hate the playa hate the game.

Now that it is officially 2016, the only thing I can think about is crossing that Scarlet and White stage in May with a diploma from Boston University. I’m terrified, excited, exhilarated and all around amazed at how quickly the last four years flew by.

From an early age I never had to worry about what my next step would be, other than finishing my college applications and hoping I got into my top choice schools (#blessed). Now, I wake up in the morning and wonder if I’ll get a job come May, find a place to live and be happy. Because in the end, isn’t that the main goal? Happiness?

The prospect of leaving my friends and moving terrifies me. I have to keep reminding myself that I’ve already done that once. I’ve moved 1,100 miles. I left my friends in Florida and went off to add to my list of fellow loons I call my friends, in the hopes of finding new ones in Massachusetts. I’m a big believer in the idea that you have to leave your comfort zone in order to find yourself.

So what makes this next chapter any different than the equally scary ones before? I guess it’s the fact that nothing is certain. Wherever I end up, whomever I end up becoming, I know that the people in my life today played a considerable roll in helping me achieve whatever comes my way.

Enough of the seriousness. I guess 2016 already has my overactive brain on overdrive. I hope you and your loved ones rang in the new year in as much style and silliness as my friends and I did last night.

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75% of the squad

Stay warm (or cool if you’re in FL) classy and sassy you beautiful people.

XOXO

Winter? Break

December 15, 2015Leave a comment

J-chillin in my backyard

Hi, hello, Shalom, Bonjour, it’s been a while, hasn’t it? My apologies for ghosting you all, but I finally finished all of my work for the semester and am officially one semester away from my Bachelor’s degree. You read that correctly.

One. More. Semester.

This semester, like all others before it, brimmed with ups and downs equivalent to those of The Old Man and the Sea. Except, the big fish I follow is my diploma. El oh el. How is that for deep (sea fishing, jk ok I’ll stop).

While I sit in Florida in the 80-degree weather, pondering what the future holds, I am forced to take a break from my constant over-thinking and acknowledge the amazing last four months. I made new friends, saw old ones, and continued to love each and every one of you amazing readers.

Because, like… how I have 1500+ readers is beyond me. #blessed

(But really still don’t know how that is even possible.)

I hope that my words have been a few things for all of you readers. I want to be helpful, entertain, show a new perspective, among other things. I write for my own gain, in that i find it therapeutic and it’s one of the only things I know how to do. (The jury is still out on whether I write well. Clearly I am nervously awaiting my final grades).

This post is basically a testament to how scatter-brained I am post-semester. I can barely focus on the current CNN info session on how wrong Trump is–I won’t even broach that subject here, so don’t you worry.

Anyways, I hope all is well with you beautiful people. Expect another post in the next week.

Stay Classy, sassy and beautiful!

xoxo

A 2nd Diabetic Thanksgiving

November 28, 2015December 15, 2015Leave a comment

Happy belated Thanksgiving to all of you and your loved ones! This year, my second Thanksgiving with a diagnosis of Type 1 Diabetes (T1D) proved another difficult feat, with another year of carbohydrate filled goodness that is a Goldman holiday.

I’m not complaining, just wishing for a working pancreas, or even a bionic one (hint hint wink wink). Anyways, I digress. Like every other year my amazing chef of a mom made a scrumptious sweet potato concoction, brussels sprouts, stuffing, roasted veggies and of course my dad made the turkey. Not to mention my grandma’s infamous stuffed mushrooms and baked brie. When I say baked brie, I meant hat she literally baked a brie inside of a pastry lined with some kind of sweet and savory filling. I still am not entirely sure what was in that dish, but it was so amazing it doesn’t matter. Thanks grandma!

So, naturally I’ve been coasting on high blood sugar the last three days, coming down every five or so hours only to have a smidge of pumpkin or chocolate pecan pie. Yes, you read that right, my mom’s chocolate pecan pie is so good that one of my cousins wrote a college essay about the dessert. el oh el, classic Greg.

Having a one track food mind, I naturally forgot to take a picture of the table with all of the food, but managed to get a shot in before we destroyed the various pies.

After what I believe is my fourth meal concerning Thanksgiving leftovers, and the continuous highs associated with said diet, I can honestly say that I am missing the old days where I only felt bad about my growing waistline, and not the two arrows pointing up on my glucose monitor showing that my blood sugar is rising faster than Kanye’s ego. I’m reminded of silly worries like what to purchase for my friends for secret santa this year or getting solid grades at the end of the term. Don’t get me wrong, this things still worry me, but now everything pales in comparison to the constant struggle of a day-to-day life with this disease. I am well aware of the plethora of diseases and medical issues out there that are far worse than mine. I know thousands, probably millions also struggle with T1D, but all of these factors do not make me feel better. It drives me into a sort of frenzy thinking of all that can go wrong with the human body. I feel for those worse off than I, not glory in the fact that I was dealt a better hand.

So, this holiday season I am grateful for the family and friends that make me laugh through the highs and lows, and make me remember what it’s like to just not worry for a few hours. Not worry about myself, my health, others, my friends, the world, and just sit back and watch countless hours of What Not To Wear. Because if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that Clinton and Stacey are singlehandedly made the world a prettier place.

#Diabetethis: Part 2

November 9, 2015December 15, 2015Leave a comment

PC: Cara Difabio
Click on the photo to check out her website.

Here it is guys…. the moment you’ve all been waiting for… Part 2 and the final installment of Diabetethis. Well, tbh, I might continue this diatribe because it’s fun and therapeutic. So, this might not actually be the last installment, but just the second installment. I digress. I hope you enjoy this part, and again hope that no one party is affected by any of my words below.

When I turned 20, after my initial diagnosis, I did not get a birthday cake. I got smiles tinged with sympathy and pity. I’ve never been one to enjoy people’s pity. I prefer to make my bed and lay in it, so to speak. But this, this disease that hit me at such a late age compared to my T1D (Type 1 Diabetic) counterparts, this thing that has come to be such a large and overwhelming part of my life, changed me. I am no longer the giggling girl with no care in the world (not that I ever was, but it’s nice to see some options!). Now I am constantly thinking of the consequences of what I eat, drink and even do physically. I can no longer go for a long walk when I feel like it, I have to eat an hour before and hope my blood sugar doesn’t get too low.

Shit, that reminds me. Dang it. UGH. Okay so after walking that mile to class and giving myself insulin for that high blood sugar from an hour ago my blood sugar is now 100, dropping like it’s hotter than Snoop diggity-dawg. Great. Now I look like an idiot eating my squeezable applesauce.

Oh wait, I don’t care.

Yeah, that’s right group of tall man-child basketball players walking by staring at my snack of choice. What? You’ve never seen a 21-year-old woman eating squeezable applesauce on the go? Yeah, look away, that’s right. Mhm. Okay. Good.

I sit down in a quiet area of the GSU, close my eyes and hope that this feeling like the world is going to open under my feet will go away soon. Come on applesauce, do your magic. I hear those two familiar, loud, obnoxiously terrifying beeps coming from my glucose monitor, telling me that my blood sugar is low and basically for me to get my shit together.

I get it. I am trying here, work with me pancreas. I know you’re kind of done and all, but maybe you could do me a solid and just make my life a tad easier?

I open my eyes to see the girl across from me eating what can only be described as a plate of diabetes. We’re talking curly fries, fried chicken and a large milkshake. Jesus, I can feel my pancreas laughing at me from within. Life is so unfair. I can’t stop staring. I want that milkshake. I want that meal. I want that carefree life that, alright, let’s admit it, could potentially lead to the other less dangerous, more common cousin of T1D, type 2. Type 2 sucks, because it’s somewhat preventable and reversible. So if you get type 2, you know it’s partially….maybe….your fault. With type 1 at least I know that my pancreas quit on me, taking the guilt of this major health problem out of my hands. I let out a small laugh, towards the girl’s ironic food choice, the situation, and who knows, maybe even the big guy upstairs. Thank you Lord for giving me a sense of humor and irony.

All I seem to think about these days is this disease. Comparatively, it’s not even that bad. But the real question is: when will it become such an integral part of my life that I won’t have to think about it anymore? At what point will I be able to sit down for a meal and not worry. I worry so damn much. I am tired of worrying, but at the same time, it’s the worry that keeps me sane. I need the worry to let me know that there was a before. It gives me hope that there might be an after. I hope for that cure.

Woah ok where did the time go? Time to get started on my Comparative European Politics homework. Oh, yay, glad that this week’s reading only consists of 150 pages, as opposed to last week’s 180. Things are looking up.

I sigh, I go get a salad from loose leafs and am actually content with my spinach, health-filled meal. Yeah, I can be healthy. I don’t even want a milkshake anymore. Keep telling yourself that, Em. You got this. One meal at a time.

Hope you enjoyed this part 🙂

Stay beautiful and warm peeps!