A Very Lucky Girl

I took a chance a few months ago when I saw @CollegeTownLife advertising for freelance writers on Twitter. I responded to their plea for articles and sent one in. I never heard back. So, I am not good enough. Yet.  I wrote about the epedimic of campus preachers that ignites when springtime starts.  What you can find at an on-campus crazy preacher gathering Springtime is in the air. With its gentle breezes comes the smell of free snow cones, the sweat of students tanning studying for finals on the lawn, and the harsh rants of a Bible-thumping preacher ignoring all rules of the bike lane. Chances are, Brother Jed or Pastor Micah has made an appearance on your campus already and you’ve been privy to the three typical scenes provided for your study-break pleasure. 1.      The focus on sex: For a religious activist, the guy is excessively focused on sexual sin. Bedazzled with anti-homo pins and “no porn!” buttons, he shouts at the ladies wi...

Remember when I didn't suck at running? I know, it's been awhile. Seventh grade began my cross-country and track career. Paul and Sharbear required a sport of me, and this one didn't require any hand-eye coordination so I decided it was worth a try. I ran all summer in preparation for the cross-country season (it didn't hurt that my coach lived in the bedroom down the hall and would know if I dared to skip a single scheduled day) and the first race at Ravenscroft dawned on an autumn day. I ran the requisite 5K and crossed the finish line in a decent place, much to the dismay of my parents. Wait, Taylor can do sports?  Our St. David's School Varsity girls team finished out that season as State Champions in our division. Sharbear overheard some indignant runner-ups complain, "uh yeah, we could run that way if we hadn't hit puberty yet either." Irrelevant, since we had some talented high-schoolers on the team as well.  Eighth and ninth grade didn'...

One of the best feelings is being conscious of sun rays on my back as I lay outside soaking up every golden beam. Until my body is wracked by a series of violent sneezes. I am allergic to spring.  I managed to hold out on medicine until 2 weeks ago. I sat outside Gittinger (mistake number one) waiting for my English class to start, alternatively sneezing and sniffling and dripping. I was miserable and desperately texted Shari, hoping for a miracle remedy. She recommended Claritin so on that Sunday morning I wrangled a ride from Megan in her Jeep Wrangler (not ashamed of my word choice) to Walgreens. Strolling the aisles, I bypassed Claritin immediately. That is some expensive $&!#. Instead, I shelled out about eleven dollars for twenty tiny white tablets and crossed my fingers that janky drugs would do the trick.  It worked really well! For about a day. Sunday night I had some incredibly strange dreams, but that's not really unusual. But Monday night, the seco...

Got my skin cancer on today. 2 solid hours of soaking up those gloriously delicious rays. I wish I could say I was really productive during my time outside, but instead I stared up at this gorgeous sky, speechless. Clear blue and cloudless-which is why I am sporting some truly sexy burn lines right now. Roasted cleavage? Check. Nike shorts line? Got 'em.  But I don't regret a minute of my sunshine soaked afternoon because I got some quality thinking time in. Scrolling through Tumblr the other day I stumbled upon a really depressing statement, "People think that they are 10 times more attractive than they actually are." Yikes. I'm certainly not saying that I am under the impression that I'm America's Next Top Model (maybe runner-up? JOKE), but neither do I think I need to be the star of Extreme Makeover: Plastic Surgery Edition. Paul gave me some pretty sweet green eyes (did you know that only 2% of the world's population has these olivine co...