(Some of) The Problems With 13 Reasons Why

I have issues with this show.

It's an absolutely horrible representation of depression and suicide.

It is trash.

Let's start with the fact that it never actually addresses depression or mental illness. It never gives a name to Hannah's feelings of loneliness and emptiness and sadness. It turns a serious, tricky issue into a plot point in an angsty teen murder drama for people's entertainment.

While I am glad to have an awareness of bullying and suicide rising through the show, I hate 13 Reasons Why. I hate that it got so popular, and I hate that it is our only mainstream discourse in TV of suicide.

Arguably the worst part of the show is its portrayal of Hannah herself. I think she becomes reduced and minimized as a character. She is angry about everything but never DOES anything about it. This may be an attempt to show realistically how she was feeling, but all it does is make you scream at your television to do something, get someone, STOP HIM.

This show should be creating empathy for Hannah, making us see that she was nice and caring and just a little dark and sad and broken inside. It does not do that at all. I cannot think of a single time when I was like, "Oh, that's relatable" or "yeah, I like her."

The girl was depressed. Which sucks. It sucks a lot. But she should not have been reduced to that; that should not have been what totally defined her character. Depression or mental illness are not the only things which define people. I have friends who deal with this stuff every single day, but that's not who they are. They are wonderful, beautiful people who happen to have a chemical imbalance in them. Which is kind of awful. But they get excited about stuff and care about people and have lives and passions and existences and characters outside of this one thing. This how they should have portrayed Hannah.

And shall we talk about this "love will save you" trope? That is stupid. It is idiotic. Clay staying with her, Clay loving her, would not have saved her in the long run. It might have helped, it might have kept her alive a little longer, but a boy would not have healed her. A teenage boy cannot heal anyone. To quote my friend, "Love helps, but a boy isn't your savior. Someone else can't save you from your own demons. They can help you but ultimately you have to slay the demons."

This is something that we need to acknowledge for the people on both sides. Because yes, I will do everything in my power to save my friends, and they would do the same for me, but a single person can not take the whole weight of that. There were moments in high school when it felt like I had to save everyone. Which is stupid and arrogant as heck and unhealthy. You can only help to a certain point.

It is a Sam and Frodo relationship. Sam can be with you and help you, and even carry you for a bit, but you must carry and destroy the One Ring, whatever that be.* I don't think Hannah understood that.

Which brings me to the tapes.

The tapes make it look like revenge. And not, revenge and grief or revenge and guilt or revenge and insert-emotion-here. Just revenge. Which makes Hannah look more like a villain anything else.

Not to mention, another one of my friends pointed out that once a person makes a decision to take her own life, she is not going to take six weeks to make tapes to leave people. She probably won't care enough, at that point. It's far-fetched at best.

I also have problems with anything that romanticizes suicide or depression, which this absolutely does. In a really sickening way. The fact that they dragged out the story and expanded it from the book (which I read in high school) and are now making a season 2 also rubs me the wrong way. It feels like they are making money off of this, which makes me a little nauseous. Issues like depression, suicide, and rape should not be commercialized or used for entertainment. That actually makes me want to throw up.

All who I have talked to who has major issues with this show are people who have either first- or second-hand experience with it, which is very telling of how far off-the-mark the show is.

In conclusion, please find better representations of mental health. Have an actual, honest discussion with real people who know what they are talking about.

Also, if you feel like you can relate to any of the stuff in the show or that I am talking about, find a person to talk to. Preferably a responsible adult, or call the National Prevention Line at 1-800-273-8255. Or me, I'm always here.

*I really wish I could take credit for this analogy, but I cannot. My friend thought of it.

The (Fictional) Women Who Made Me

So I have a post on Feminism itself coming at some point.

Before I post that, though, I wanted to write about this.

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I grew up on Star Wars. Those movies, to me, feel like home. My brain deeply associates Star Wars with my family and my childhood. Watching the movies with my cousins, my sibling and I standing on our staircase in India and singing the theme as loudly as possible, playing in the basement and backyard with lightsabers and Jedi cloaks.

Princess Leia was (and honestly still is) so important to me. She was gorgeous, and brilliant, and so smart and sassy and badass.  She was undeniably feminine, she was a princess, and she was also a rebel leader, and ambassador, a general, a Skywalker. She kept up with Luke and Han and was not afraid to put them in their place when they were stupid. And she paved the way for every other woman in Star Wars, who are each unique and important in different ways.

I think the books I read and the movies I watched as a kid had an undeniable impact on how I see women, and feminism, and myself.

I read a lot as a kid. There was this one picture book called A is for Abigail. It went through the alphabet and had women who were leaders/world-changers for every letter. Abigail Adams, Susan B. Anthony, Marie Curie, Annie Oakley, Harriet Tubman, Rosa Parks, to name a few. I had forgotten about the book until I found it in the library about a year ago. Little kid me really liked that book. I liked the pictures, first of all, but I also liked reading about all those women and all the possibilities they carved out for themselves and every little girl who came after them. They were stay-at-home moms, scientists, fashion designers, singers, teachers, pilots, civil rights activists, chefs, mathematicians. It was glorious.

Seeing that book again made me really think about the characters that I let influence me as a kid.

It started with American Girl books -- historical fiction from the viewpoint of nine-, ten-, eleven-year-old girls. History from the perspective of little girls, by nature, makes you want to start fighting for equality. I also read almost every Nancy Drew book, about the wonderful, super cool female detective, and her best friends. The Chronicles of Narnia helped shape my view of women -- women as adventurers, leaders, warriors, queens. Little Women and Anne of Green Gables, Percy Jackson and Jane Austen's books. I think we can attribute a ridiculous amount of my personality to Jo March and Anne Shirley. I wanted ink stains on my fingers and an attic hangout to eat apples and write in because of Jo. I dyed my hair red because of Anne. They were ridiculously impactful. Jo, who makes her own decisions no matter what anyone thinks. Anne, who is imaginative, flawed and funny, stubborn and lovely and unabashedly herself. Any character that loved books was one of my favorites. Annabeth Chase: self-sufficient, badass, genius, goals in every way. Elizabeth Bennet, the clever, independent, hard-headed heroine of Jane Austen's most famous novel. They have all been with me for years, proving to me that women can do anything.

Representation is important, especially if you think about it in the context of children. When kids watch movies and read books, they are fueling their imagination with both how the world is and how the world could be. They need to see characters they relate to. Characters who show them what is possible. Characters that tell them -- even subconsciously -- they can be successful and powerful and inspirational and loved.

And not only do they shape how we see ourselves, fiction and media are some of the first ways we perceive people who are unlike us, who are outside our little circle of the world. This is another reason diversity is essential in fiction -- it creates empathy and builds connecting points where they might not otherwise exist.

Once I hit middle school, it was Harry Potter, the Hunger Games, the Lord of the Rings. Characters like Hermione Granger, Professor McGonagall, Molly and Ginny Weasley, Katniss Everdeen, and Eowyn were the people I was looking up to. I think J.K. Rowling did one of the best jobs with her female characters of any author I have ever read. Every woman is fully her own character with her own personality and her own strengths. (Side note: I asked a BUNCH of my friends about their favorite fictional women and Hermione was the #1 answer, with Mulan, Rey, Leia, and Annabeth also being very high on the list.)

In high school, I started watching/following TV shows for the first time. A whole new world of women as surgeons, superheroes, space travelers, and secret agents opened its world to me. This was also probably about the time I started thinking critically about the kinds of fictional characters I wanted.

I'm not asking for every woman to be physically strong, or to be totally independent, or to never cry. I am asking for women who are three-dimensional, who have their own character arc, who are complete without the men in the movie/book/series/whatever. They can be romantic, they can be emotional, they can be aggressive and mean. I want lovers and fighters and artists and scientists. I want black women and Asian women and Muslim women and everyone else. I want straight women and gay women and trans women. I want diversity, I want representation, I want backstory, I want them to be people on their own, first and foremost.

I find it curious that so many feminist fictional icons come from science fiction and fantasy. At first, I wondered if it was just me because I consume so much science fiction and fantasy. When the Women's March rolled around, however, I realized it wasn't just me. Princess Leia, Hermione, Wonder Woman, and others popped up on posters all over New York City and Washington D.C. and the rest of the world.

I have a theory on why this is. Science fiction/fantasy allows a different version of reality. Setting something in the distant future or another world can alter gender roles, expectations, conventions. This distance allows women to be in different positions than we usually see in reality. Women have a different level of freedom in deep space or the distant future or in the wizard world. We rarely see them being questioned and challenged on screen in science fiction. These women live in a world where they are simply allowed to lead lives -- ordinary or extraordinary, without having to justify every move they make.

This is not the world we live in.

But! 1) Real inspirational women who overcome all expectations and stereotypes and obstacles exist all around us. Absolutely, without a doubt. I would start listing them off, but that is a job for another day. And 2) I think we can get to a better world. We can get to the world of the characters that inspired me, where women are just accepted as doing whatever they want and whatever they are good at. Even if it means we have to move to those new planets NASA found to get there. 

College-ing, From the Perspective of a Total Mess of a Person

In my experience, people give a lot of advice to college students.

A lot. 

So much advice. 

Everyone has an opinion on where you should go to school, what classes you should take, how you should do student loans, what you should eat, how you should plan your life. 

SO guess what? I am going to add my voice and shout into the void.

Some realistic college advice from yours truly:

-- Buy Tide stain sticks. They are lifesavers. Buy like seven if you are anything like me. I keep one in my dresser, one in my purse, and one in my backpack. I use them almost every day. 

-- Know how much money you are taking out in student loans. Whether it's a lot or a little, know how much it is. Stay aware. Otherwise, when you find out it will haunt you and horrify you and you won't fall asleep until five in the morning because all you can think about is your impending doom. 

-- Locate 24-hour joints near you. Coffee shops, cafes, diners. You will want to know when midterms/finals roll around and you need to get out of your room at 1 am so you can study while your roommates sleep. 

-- Trader Joe's makes really freaking good single serving frozen meals. My roommates and I really like the Tikka Masala. 

-- Buy quarts of ice cream instead of pints. It's way too easy to eat straight out of the carton with a pint, and that makes it wayyyyy to easy to eat it all in one or two sittings instead of the recommended four. 

-- BUY A LAPTOP CASE. And a distinctive one, at that, so you don't get it mixed up with other ones. Also, close your laptop when walking places/going up and down stairs/waltzing around your room if you are at all accident-prone. Seriously.

-- Locate your nearest hospital. Know where it is, so when you dislocate your shoulder, you can go straight there. 

-- Uhhh I think I should say something about exercise/eating healthy, but this is not my area of expertise. Our building has a gym. I have been there twice: On the tour, and when Laura dragged me up there. I spent most of the time stretching. So... do better than me.

-- Pick up babysitting jobs if/when you can. You can make so much money, and you can meet super duper cool people and see parts of town you wouldn't otherwise. 

-- Get Spotify premium or Apple Music or some music provider of the sort. It is the best investment. 

-- If/when you have a mental breakdown and can't/don't finish a giant paper worth 20% of your grade, TELL SOMEONE. Do not do what I did, which is freak out, ignore it, curl up in a little ball, take the L, and not tell anyone until like after Christmas. Tell your parents, your studious friend, your professor, a counselor, whatever. Someone who can help you and prevent a lot of unnecessary anxiety. (It's really a toss-up between who was more horrified when they found out: My parents or Amelia.)

-- At Dunkin': Get an iced coffee with cream and caramel instead of an iced caramel latte. There's a bit of a difference in flavor, but there's an almost $2 difference in price, so WORTH IT. Avoid Starbucks unless you have a gift card. I don't take that advice in the slightest, but you should. 

-- Ask for student discounts everywhere, folks. 

-- Get nice headphones. It seems unnecessary, but they're actually the best. You have roommates! You have to study in crowded libraries!

-- The Apple protection plan doesn't cover physical damage. Do with that information what you will. 

-- Follow blogs/websites/twitter accounts that cover fun stuff to do in the area. You need to do fun stuff. 

-- On a similar note, find people who will keep your fun/work ratio balanced. Do not only surround yourself with people with the exact same study habits. I have to surround myself who will keep me focused when I need to do homework. Some of my friends need me around so they don't study and/or stress too much. Sometimes you need to hunker down and write the paper. Other times you need to step back and take a break and go to the park or watch musicals or take Buzzfeed quizzes. Very few people are that well-balanced on their own, so find yourself buddies who can help you out. 

-- Always, ALWAYS, do the extra credit.

-- Don't blog when you should be doing Politics homework. 

Star Wars: Rogue One Opinions

This has lots of spoilers. Go away if you didn't watch the movie.

Here's what I liked:
-- K-2SO
-- FEMALE X-WING PILOTS!! Yay!!!
-- The new planets
-- Vader actually being somewhat scary. That was good.
-- I am not an expert but it seemed like they did pretty well better than most with diverse casting which is super exciting.
-- JYN ERSO

-- The blind guy and his buddy were awesome (tbh I do not know any of the names except Jyn, Cassian, and Darth Vader)

-- The way it connected to the original/filled the huge plot hole of "Why does there just happen to be this one flaw in the Death Star???"

-- The darkness/realness of the rebellion and the fact that yeah, they did bad stuff too. They're not all Luke Skywalker.

-- R2 and 3PO's cameo

-- Jyn Erso again. Yas.

-- I think I'm in love with Cassian but that might just be because Diego Luna is really hot??

Here's what I didn't like:

I.  I typically watch movies for the characters. I think it's why I have started liking TV shows better than movies -- the characters have time to develop and get cooler and change. And while I LOVE humor and action and fun-ness, I am here for the characters. 

Rogue One had a lot of characters who are cool, yes, but you only got them for what, two hours? Two and a half maybe? You have no time to get attached or see them grow or anything. And because there's like six main characters, you have to try to learn about all of them really quickly. The droid was my favorite, mostly because his attitude reminded me of Holly. Everyone else did cool things, but they had very little personality. 

And because there was no time to learn about/care about the characters, their deaths were really hard to care about. It was like when you hear about a celebrity who you know about but don't really follow dying. Like you know it's sad because they were talented, but it doesn't really matter. 

II. I don't think I was ever wowed, or really even slightly surprised, by the movie. It was exactly predictable per se, but nor was it as twisty as I was led to believe. The moment that surprised me the most was Cassian's "death"... which was promptly ruined when he WASN'T dead, came and saved Jyn, and then died again in her arms. UGH, I should have seen that one coming. I was ANNOYED. 

I am so tired of characters not staying dead, guys. It causes trust issues. (Marvel, DC, I am looking at you.)

III.  There was just too much going on. Like, yes, I liked seeing all the new planets, but I don't remember a single one now and it's been less than twenty-four hours. The whole movie is a blur of gunshots and death, which I really don't think is good. It was all so rushed. 

IV. While Star Wars is doing good on the female character front, on the way home I started thinking about it and... yes, I am SO glad I got two female protagonists in a row, but every other main character in Rogue One was a guy. THERE WERE SIX MAIN CHARACTERS. ONE was a woman. C'mon. It's like, you're trying... but step it up. 

V. Tarkin's voice was so not right that I almost wish they hadn't attempted it. He looked pretty good, though. 

VI. There were several lines that made me laugh/cringe. "I hope you don't choke on your aspirations," for example. WHO LET THAT GO THROUGH. Actually, I laughed at many, many points in the movie that no one else seemed to think was funny... I don't know if I have a warped sense of humor or if everyone just didn't pick up on it. 

VII. They used multiple shots MULTIPLE TIMES. Like?? Buy the third time, it's not an easter egg anymore, it's laziness, guys. 

VIII. People have been bringing this up, but it didn't feel like Star Wars. And that is okay... but I went to see it because it IS Star Wars. I love that world and those stories. If anything, parts of it felt like the Hunger Games. And I LIKE the Hunger Games movies. But I came to see Star Wars.

IX. To go back to the top, JYN AND CASSIAN'S DEATH WAS SO CHEESY.  His first death was so much better. More real, more heartbreaking -- Jyn's glance back and then determined face as she kept climbing was WONDERFUL -- and then he wasn't dead. The clinging to each other on the beach death did not work for me. And the two of them died to what sounded eerily like Padme and Anakin's love theme which made me cringe so hard. 

The movie seemed very unnecessary. It's nice to have that information, but it would have been fine as a wookipedia article or a three-episode arc on Rebels. I feel like it would have been better for everyone if they just skipped this movie, focused on VIII, and made that the best it can be. They won't lose fans in two years. It felt more like a money thing, honestly. 

All in all: decent movie, but not great. I will probably see it again in the near future with my brother and we will see if my feelings change... but I doubt it.

Over-Caffeinated and Under-Motivated, Addi Suddenly Returns to the Scene

Good news, folks: I still possess the corner of the internet for my own thoughts/ramblings/stories/etc.

I realize my blog has been silent for three months. Oops?

Nothing like my impending doom in the form of finals to motivate me to blog.

Yes, I am procrastinating right now.

I want to talk about something that has been in the back of my head for a while.

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Since moving to New York, I have had dozens of people -- my old friends, my new friends, acquaintances, etc. -- comment on my life. I'm so lucky, people are jealous, life goals, that's so cool, I'm brave, etc. etc.

(Side note: This is literally the only picture I have of Times Square and I definitely just took it because of the Fantastic Beasts posters.)

And YES I am blessed beyond belief. If twelve-year-old me could see me now, she would be amazed and vaguely impressed. Also probably a little disappointed that I'm not actually on Broadway. (Lol at twelve/thirteen/fourteen-year-old me who had very different hopes and dreams and also an obsession with Wicked.)

I didn't ever think I would actually get to live here and have so many cool experiences and meet such amazing people. I NEVER thought I would be brave enough to live this far away from my family, but I am. I wouldn't have believed that I would get to stand backstage, even just for a bit, after a Broadway show, but I did. (Hopefully I will again.) I never thought I would get to make art museums and beautiful libraries my study haunts, but here we are. I definitely never thought I'd sleep on the streets of New York.

So, yes, I am living my dream.

But there's a lot that comes with that.

There's little mental breakdowns. There's drama amongst friends. There are homesickness and dirty dishes and hospital runs. There are whole seasons of New Girl and Teen Wolf because I don't know how to manage my time (see above, where I admit I am procrastinating literally right now). There are times when all I eat is muffins and cookies. There's the mild anxiety about everything from my grades to finding a job to what is my purpose and why am I here and am I living up to that and if I don't know what I want/am supposed to be doing then what am I working towards?

I guess... I thought, for some reason, that when I got to college everything would work itself out. College students would be much more mature than high schoolers, I would suddenly be responsible and less clumsy and awkward (HAH), a job or two would suddenly appear, etc. etc.

Naive, at best. Nothing like New York to give you a nice, cold reality check.

And as my first semester ends, I have learned a lot. Mostly what not to do. Mostly from experience.
I've learned that while I am very bad at time management and directions, I can do it.

I've learned how I need to organize everything from my notes to my to-do lists, because I have failed at both.

I can talk to strangers, although that works best if they start the conversation.

I have made doctors appointments ON THE PHONE by myself without saying something stupid.

I've gotten lost.

I've gone to the hospital.

I have failed quizzes and not turned in a paper and said really stupid things in class. Stupid as in pure blonde-moment, seriously-Addi-that-is-common-knowledge stuff.

I have embarrassed myself in every way possible and recovered.

And it has worked out okay. Not much scares me at this point. I will get through with a decent GPA and some solid friends and a lovely church.

This first semester has been wonderful. But, at the same time, it's been rough. Trust me, next semester can only get better.

So... what I've learned is that even "living the dream" is faaaaar from perfect. Because I am still a mess. And you know, it's real life.

But I'll be okay. I can handle New York with a little help from Jesus and my squad.

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Postscript: I reserve the right to take any and all of this back after my final grades are posted. There's still a decent chance I cannot handle anything and am actually just running on false confidence brought on by an abundance of caffeine.

Post-Postscript: Also, if someone wants to move in with me and take pictures for my blog or honestly just teach me how to use a camera so I don't have to subject everyone to blurry photos from my phone, that would be great.

I Could Live Here Forever, I Think

So here's an interesting paradox: I moved to New York for school. I moved here because I wanted to go to King's. Before I visited the school, I didn't want to live here.

And now I can't imagine living anywhere else.

The longer I'm here, the more I love the city. There is so much to do and see and explore. I haven't even been outside of Manhattan and Brooklyn yet.

I love the people here. I love the guy who jumped in on Amelia's and my conversation about the fall of Rome on the subway and talked about cities and names of things are really just labels and ideas in our heads. I love the people who perform in subway cars and on street corners. I love the girl at Target who commiserated with Kelsey and I about paying for groceries on a college budget. I love the man who worked at the theater tonight who was telling people about the theater's ghosts. I love the woman who pointed me toward the Manhattan-bound subway when I got lost in Brooklyn my second week here. I love the people at King's, of course. I love anyone and everyone who lets me pet their dog(s).

Don't let people tell you New Yorkers are rude. They're really not. There's just a different kind of courtesy here. It's not the same code of conduct as in the south or the Midwest. For the most part, it is assumed that people have their own agendas and time frames and are trying to get somewhere. They don't want to be talked to, so it's polite to not talk to them ninety-eight percent of the time. At least, that is my take on it.

I love the places here. The hole-in-the-wall pizza joints, the parks, the bookstores, the rooftops from where you can actually see the stars. I love Times Square at night, all lit up and crowded and feeling like a movie scene. I love Battery Park and looking out at the water and the ships and the Statue of Liberty. I love the Farmer's Markets that are all over the place if you know where and when to look. I love the Met. I love the designer stores that I am too poor to even look at.

I love, love the experiences that are possible here. Impulsively deciding to go to concerts and winning discounted Broadway tickets and watching late night shows get filmed. Stumbling upon street fairs. Meeting super cool people who actually live in China now. Going to book festivals and getting free books that you were going to buy anyways.

And I am sure that this "honeymoon stage" must end at some point. I will suddenly realize how many issues the subway system has, how annoying tourists are, how incredibly small and cold/hot/loud my apartment is, and how many rats are actually in the city.

But for now... For now these are just part of the charms of living here. They are the details that reassure me that I do not live in a cliche movie (although if I was in a movie, a) I would have met a tall, handsome stranger by now, and b) there would have already been at least three musical numbers and a ballad.)

Welcome to New York

I have been living in my apartment in New York City for a week now.

It doesn't feel like that long.

Unless I think about it harder, and then it feels like ages since I've seen my friends and family or ridden in a car or seen a Freddy's or slept in my bed.

But most of the time, it feels like it's only been a couple of days, and everything is still new and fresh and exciting.

I can ride the subway! I can hear protests right outside the building during class! I can walk past Alexander Hamilton's grave every day on the way to school! I can eat whatever I want! I can randomly go to the MET! (I haven't yet, but I can!) I can go to Central Park to study!

It's weird. Wonderful, but weird.

Sometimes it doesn't feel real. It doesn't feel real that I can pop over to Brooklyn for grocery shopping. That I live 1, 385.5 miles away from almost everyone I know. That I can pop over to Battery Park because it's just around the corner.

And other times, I'm carrying toilet paper down Washington Street, and it all feels totally normal. This is life, just in a different city. Life, just with different people.

Meeting people is weird. Trying to make friends can be hard, and I so, so grateful for the House system at King's. I'm grateful for the girls in Barton who will invite me over for cupcakes or just to hang out, who will come over and eat pasta on our floor because there aren't any chairs, for roommates who will teach me how to cook chicken and go grocery shopping with me and help me out when my debit card gets rejected. I'm soooo grateful for phone calls and skype so I can talk to my people back home. I'm grateful for the opportunities to jump right in and get to know kids and professors. I'm grateful for the list of churches and who goes to them so I can start looking for a church to invest in right away. I'm grateful for the first Refuge meeting, and for Eric Bennett for challenging us, and for friends who will already hold me accountable. I am grateful for the amount of freedom and responsibility given to King's students. I am grateful for the Honor Code and the fact that people do take it so seriously and will drill it into our heads.

I cried today -- actually, I've probably cried every day for various reasons: Mom and Dad left, I opened Mom and Dad's card, Ellen said she got to hug Holly, I watched the Priceless movie trailer, I watched Avatar, I watched a So You Think You Can Dance video, I listened to "Sunrise" from In the Heights, etc. I'm someone who cries at most things, really.

But anyway, today stands out because Laura -- who I have officially known for less than a week, although we did meet and talked a bit at the Founder's competition -- complimented me. I don't remember what it was, she was sitting on our hallway floor and I was making pasta and she said something nice and I probably jokingly said something like "Oh, keep going, this is how you can pay for your dinners." I didn't think she would but she did.

And I started crying, not just because a) she was so nice and it was so good to hear that someone appreciated me and that I, individually, was noticed in the sea of hundreds of people that we have met in the past week, but b) the compliments rang true and didn't feel contrived or made up, which reveals a great deal of observation from her, as we've known each other for less than a week, and c) the things she brought up -- individuality, authenticity straight from the start, going to Refuge, trying and wanting to be held accountable for trying to pursue Christ -- are all things that I try to prioritize.

Being myself and accepting myself in all my quirkiness is something I have struggled with and tried to do in the past four years of high school, and I was afraid that when I moved I would lose that confidence and try to fit into the mold again. And seeking Christ and making Him a priority even in the chaos of this city and college life is, again, something I want to strive to do and something I want help with and want someone to hold me to.

I was afraid those were things I would lose sight of amongst the craziness of the past week, and if I didn't start off, I would forget through the year as well.

So it made me cry because, even if it's only been a week, I feel like my fears have been kind of put at rest, at least for the time being.

Not to mention, now that I know someone is aware of what I'm really like I can't suddenly... quit being that person, I guess.

I am this person.

I am Addison Herndon, a clumsy, awkward, obsessive girl with a passion for people and creativity and books. I have too much of a penchant for sweets and procrastination. I am a romantic through and through. I cry... a lot. I have a deep faith in Jesus and His salvation. And dare I say it, I have faith in my fellow humans.

I was this person in Kansas and I am this person in New York.

And for that, I am grateful. 

Four Years

Dear Class of 2016,

I don’t like change. I don’t like moving, or losing friends, or getting rid of my books. The fact that the 13th street Freddy’s rearranged itself kind of stresses me out. I don’t like thinking about all of us being spread out all over the place.

But at the same time, endings mean new beginnings. Out with the old, in with the new. Every time you finish a book you can start a new one. (That being said, I’m the kind of person who reads like four books at one time instead of waiting to finish them because I am impatient.) When people leave your life, there is space for others to come in. And it’s not the same, no. But different doesn’t mean bad.

I think our class knows that. “We’re not the same, we’re different in a good way,” to quote High School Musical. We don’t mind joking about the difference in our backgrounds and talents. That being said, it’s not like we were shoved into a box. We were encouraged -- usually by each other -- to refuse to “stick the status quo,” whether that be the Troy Boltons in Singin’ in the Rain or the fact that Will and Ethan played basketball freshman year or Elise in Pirates of Penzance, and all sorts of other overlappings in clubs and activities. We were allowed to try new things and meet other people who were different from us.

I’m so glad we’re different. I’m glad we have Keri, who’s funny and a great writer; Sarah, who’s organized and classy and optimistic; Emery, who’s good at soccer and makes us laugh in Stats; Kaleigh -- both Kaylees, Kris, Claire, Mitchell and Hannah and Lulu and Josh and Ashlyn and Tarrance and Lexi and Caleb and I can’t keep naming everyone, I don’t have time.

I remember listening to the Les Miserables soundtrack with Ellen in Mr. Grissom’s class freshmen year and wanting to be her friend -- funny how things work out. I remember sitting in the sound booth during Intro to Theater with Abby Grier and Will Morris. I remember the limo ride to freshman year homecoming with a super random group with our music blasting, shaking off our slightly nervous anticipation of our first high school dance. I remember jumping on the big, bouncy mattress that made up Antarctica at Homecoming, and giggling every time Jost or Mr. Brewer walked past, terrified that we would get in trouble. I remember Romeo and Juliet vividly, of course.  I remember… well, perhaps I shouldn’t confess to sleeping in Biology. I remember staying up late working on the Around the World Day skit in Julia’s front yard. Everyone said freshmen always get last, and we -- in a spirit of rebellion that stuck with us through the years -- obviously had to prove them wrong. We succeeded and didn’t get fourth place once that week, quite possibly out of pure determination.

Sophomore year rolled around with far more angst and homework. Mrs. B’s desserts and prayers got us through chemistry tests, Algebra II, and Red Badge of Courage. I think maybe six people in the whole class of 2016 actually read that book. Props to those six, because I didn’t make it. It was a rough year, academically, relationally, mentally. But we made it out, kids. We survived. And not everything was bad. I am so grateful for sixth hour apologetics, for curling up with blankets and talking about everything from boys to God to hell to homework to creation to dress code rules. I am so grateful for the chance to be open and real and to build relationships with that totally random but wonderful group of girls. It was relaxing and renewing and fabulous. I'm grateful for getting to live my childhood dream and dance in the "Marian the Librarian" number. (What can I say? It’s my two favorite things -- libraries and musicals.) Also, I’m told sports were really good that year. Congrats.

Junior year, for me at least, didn’t start out with much hope. In all honesty, I wouldn’t have come back if it hadn’t been for the Bible class sophomore year and the friends I’d made through it. But junior year surprised me, a lot. Philosophy was challenging and fascinating. Mr. Mueller obviously won us over without much struggle. Mr. Hendley’s enthusiasm about pre-calc was very nearly contagious -- don’t worry, I wasn’t infected. We had the first Poetry Slam, which was brilliant and full of talented poets. Pirates of Penzance was incredibly fun -- swooning over Will as the sisters, laughing offstage during the “Sighing Softly to the River” as the Pirates interpretively danced across the stage, learning four-part harmonies, and having that marvelous, wonderful cast. We downright killed Spirit Week that year, with Abby and Ethan singing “Don’t Stop Believin’” and our Finding Nemo skit and Holywood and Les Miserables. And then prom was the bomb.com. I think it had a lot to do with the fact that we were a lot more mature and confident and willing to have fun. And Grant Boesen was an amaaaazing DJ. A Little Knight Music was brilliant, with the Jared and Co. singing “Crocodile Rock” and Maddie and Ellen soloing in “Mama Who Bore Me.” Those were so good.

And then this year… Golly.

This year is over. This year, with the ridiculously long bus ride back from senior trip, with the utterly amazing Man of La Mancha, with our senioritis-filled AP Stats class. With questions and college applications and choices. We had cookie time, bonfires, Government and Music Theory -- well, I guess that last one only applies to three of us. The rest of you missed out. This year, with papers and theology and seeing the end of our time in uniforms and choir dresses and sports uniforms (jerseys? Guys, in four years you’d think I would have learned this stuff.)

This year, back where we began, with Mrs. Posson and Mr. Grissom. There’s something very poetic about that, about coming full circle.

I want to thank you, class of 2016.

Thanks for being there, together, through the good times and the bad.

Oh, we didn’t -- don’t -- always get along. No. But no one always gets along. I’m sure even Elise and Sarah must disagree sometimes.

But we did it. We made it through.

Thanks for growing up a little, and for letting me grow up with you.

Thanks for letting me go from the shy, annoyed, culture-shocked girl I was to the girl I am now.

Thanks for helping me be brave, whether that be by dancing (badly) at homecoming or trying a sport (also badly). Thanks for letting me come to your houses, for listening to me talk about books that you don’t care about, for helping me with homework, for making me laugh when I’m grumpy, for inspiring and challenging me. Thanks for being good at things that I’m not, for putting up with me when I’m being a know-it-all, for including me in everything from picnics to Ultimate Frisbee to movie nights to swimming. Thanks for the food, and laughter, and memories that last forever.

I'll miss so many little moments. Late night tea at Kris's house and talking about everything. Laying on Devin's trampoline with eight people and two blankets until three in the morning. Poetry nights. Third hour off and doing homework and lunch with my favorite people. Screaming when "Jenny" comes on at prom. Going to lunch with Julia, Kellie, Emery, and Kaylee. Praying with Abby before every show -- texting or calling each other when we're in different shows. Hanging out in the catwalk or sound booth with Hailey. Laughing at Maclaine's quick wit. Voice lessons with Mrs. Henderson. Dance parties in Newspaper. Cuddling in sixth hour apologetics. Falling out of Maddie's truck. Hearing Tarrance sing. Staying up late and talking with the M&M girls in our crazy hot cabin in Nicaragua. Bonding with David over The Name of the Wind. Quik Trip walks. Pranking Mrs. Posson. Hearing Mrs. Warren's stories at swim meets.

It's been four years of papers, of late nights, of math homework and Netflix and friendships and musicals and spirit weeks.

Four years of learning about myself and about other people.

I've loved the parties and the trips and classes (well, some of them).

But this group of people I have been privileged enough to call friends... They are what have made the tuition, the time, the tears worth it.

You’re a slightly rebellious, messy, random group of humans.

And I love you and am so thankful that this is the rebellious, messy, random group of humans I’ve spent the past four years with and now step into the future with.

Thanks for everything, fam.

Abundant Life

With our English Partners and the Vida Joven team

This post is extremely late getting up, so I apologize.

As you may or may not know, I recently(ish) went to Managua, Nicaragua on a mission trip with my Ministry and Missions class.

I'm trying to process the trip still. I'm really not sure where to start. There're so many aspects of it, and in hindsight it's all choppy and fragmented and I will leave things out, so I'm sorry.

It was beautiful
exhausting
refreshing
hilarious
draining
fulfilling
hot
fun
surprising
emotional
enlightening.

It so full of joy and wonderful people and good food and lessons learned and deep conversations and awkward moments.

No sleep. Hammocks. Swimming. Frisbee. Tight pants. Amazing people. Sweat. Dancing. Ridiculous skits. Best friends. Joy. Laughter. Jesus. Volcanoes. Lizards. Scorpions. Ella. Gilbert. Dito. Pratt. Eliezar.  Steysy. Ashley. Adda. Bonfires. Stargazing. Girl talks. Yelling until we lost our voices. Bus rides. "Self-discovery." Spanish. Taylor Swift. Folklore. Christ in Culture. Will's guitar. Relationships. Fruit. Plantains. Good, deep conversations.

One or two of the classes we worked with.

I just... I didn't expect it to be quite as fun as it was. It was so very uplifting and encouraging. I learned so, so much, and I was exhausted every night, but I was so refreshed, too.

I'm trying to put this all into words, so bear with me.

God taught me a lot about love and joy and about meeting people where they are. He taught me about finding rest and fulfillment in him. He taught me about healthy, true, positive relationships. He taught me that He is the same God working in a university in Managua as in Wichita as in Bangalore as in New York City and as large as the world is, He is infinitely bigger. It was such a good time to be reminded of that, at least for me. Everything changes in the next four, five, six months for most of us. Less time than that for Kaleigh and Pablo. But God doesn't change, whether we're in Asia or Hawaii or Chicago or Texas or New York or Kansas. And that's so very comforting.

We spent our days teaching, talking, being ridiculous, drawing people in, connecting students to Vida Joven. It doesn't sound like much, but coming up with conversation topics to last hours is super hard, not to mention tiring. Every day was a roller coaster of energy. It would be sky-high at one moment and crashing the next. Vida Joven itself is so high-energy and relational that there were moments when I, as an introvert, wanted to curl up by myself and sleep. But God gave us all energy every time we needed it.

It was like being on stage sometimes. Not that we were acting or performing (although sometimes we were), but in the sense that the actors feed off the audience's energy and vice versa. We fed off the Nicas enthusiasm and energy, and they did the same with us. It was a huge give and take.

And in the evenings, when most of us went and stargazed, there were times when I just sat on my bed/laid in my hammock to process/journal/pray/ just be alone.

There was one night where all eleven of us were in hammocks just chilling/journaling/listening to music. We weren't really talking to each other, there were soft murmured conversations and "Can you pass me that pen?" and such, but it was mostly just Matt Corby or Ben Howard or hymns and us each with our thoughts. Stargazing nights were good too. We'd lay out blankets and towels and sprawl out after swimming and dinner, a tangle of wet hair and dirty feet. We talked about the past, the present, the future. We were serious. We were silly. There were so many little moments of bonding.

But our days were so much better. Nicaragua, like most hot-climate cultures, is very, very relational. We could meet people and be best friends with them twenty minutes later. It was crazy. Everyone was full of boundless energy, whether it was midnight and they were greeting us at the airport or nine a.m. when we were in class.

The classes were really fun. We acted out the Wizard of Oz, line danced, had an Easter Egg hunt, listened to one of the most talented violinists I've ever heard, created dozens of skits, talked about ourselves, about the States, about God, about the Nicas.

This was right before an Easter Egg hunt

On Friday, the Vida Joven team came to the camp where were staying to hang out with us -- swim, hammock, eat dinner, pray, etc. -- and on the bus, I got to hang out with several of them. We bonded over music, my limited Spanish, magic tricks, and trying to draw on David's face as he slept. There were all sorts of times like that. I got to hear "Sorry" by Justin Bieber in Spanish because I heard it playing from another building and started dancing. (Guys, Justin Bieber and Taylor Swift are international. And One Direction.) Another time, I said my dog's name was Oakley and one of the guys asked if it was after Tyler Oakley. And then after that we were friends.

In one of the very first classes we were in, we acted out The Wizard of Oz. This was tricky, as few -- if any -- of the Nicas had seen it. Despite this, one of the girls in my group did a perfect Wicked Witch impression, just from my vague description. It was amazing.

Dancing. Makes. Friends. We showed them swing dancing, they showed us Nicaraguan folklore dances, and we all line danced and shimmied and nae-nae-d (is that even a word?) together. It was so cool. So stinking cool.

Don't doubt the power of weird questions or wearing wigs or breaking tables.

I think part of what I loved about the trip was how natural it felt. It never felt forced. We just naturally became friends and naturally talked about God and naturally cried when we left. I think that has a lot, a lot to do with Nicaraguan culture, but I also think we got a little at living life on mission on the trip. I also loved that even when we were just discussing Guardians of the Galaxy or the Intern, we still had a purpose. Everything felt intentional, while still natural. I don't know if I'm describing this well, but I'm sure it was because of the Vida Joven team's planning. Something else that was really well done, in my humble opinion, was the fact that we connected people to the team who is permanently in Managua, at UCA. Many of them went to Vida Joven club after we left. They sent us a video. I can't tell you how excited we were to see them and pick out faces we knew.

The people we met... I hope we blessed them a fraction of how much as they blessed us. Ella, Eliezar, Steysy, Pratt, and Gilbert were our main group. They were with us basically 24/7 and they taught us soooo much. Ella was a huge encouragement to us girls, as a young, single, white girl in a foreign country alone. Steysy was overwhelming kind and patient with us, and I am so grateful to her. All the Vida Joven people were so cool and kind and helpful. And our English partners were amazing and I could talk for hours about each person, but I won't.

"White shadow!" we stage-whispered

We got to explore a lot of the city of Managua -- the hill, the lakeshore, the cathedrals. We also went to a market in Masaya, stayed at a pineapple farm, and swam in a volcanic crater. I really appreciated all the different aspects of Nicaragua we got to see, even though we were only there for a week. The area around the cathedrals had vendors selling ice cream on the street, and kids running after us asking for money. In stark contrast, the volcano beach was the most touristy place we went. There were a couple of other groups of Americans there, and every time they talked we got super confused. We were so used to knowing everyone with an American accent that it seriously threw us off.

I'm sorry, I still feel like I'm not doing the trip and the people justice, but this is the best I can express it. And sorry, it's like a month late. Oops.

This is Alex. He had us sign his shirt after we painted tables before we said good-bye on Saturday. 

Kaleigh and her English partners, Angie, Fabiola, and Cassandra

Will and William the violinist

Jenifers, Sarah, and Fernanda

Andres, T-Pa, and Devin

Bielka, Lauren, Marvin, and Allison

John, Carlos, Andres, David, Nefi, Marcos, and Alvaro

Cinthia, Julia, Scarleth, and Sahara

Team Mangos! Me, David, Elise, Pratt in the background on the phone, and the one and only Gilbert!

Gabriella with Maria Alejandra, Elise, Arianne, and Maria Gabriella

Devin and Marcos

****All photo credit to Paul, aka my hero. Seriously, knowing that someone else is photographing every second of the trip -- and photographing it well -- is so freeing. Thank you, Paul!! You're the best****

You Can Take This as "Addi's Moving to New York!"

Next fall, I will be attending the King's College in New York City.

(Random fun fact: I am unable to hear/see the words "New York City" without then thinking, "Pardon me, are you Aaron Burr, sir?" Perhaps I should have a post about Hamilton in the future. Hmm...)

I'm a little scared, I'm not gonna lie. I'm scared to be that far away. I'm sad that it mean that I'll probably miss a lot of my siblings' shows or games or birthdays. I'm scared that I'll lose some of the friendships I have here. (And I know I'll lose a couple... but still. I hate the idea.) I'm scared about silly things like having to remember my phone number without Holly's help or remembering directions or not being able to ask Mom to double check my papers (actually, I'll probably still email her my papers). I'm scared that I'll get lost in the bigness of the city and the people. Not physically lost, but more like... forgotten, almost? I'm not sure how to describe this. I'm not sure if I even really know what I'm saying. Maybe we'll come back to it if I figure it out.

But I'm also so very excited.

I think I will be challenged at King's, and I want that. I'm ready for something that will be hard in a good way. Not in a "This is impossible and ridiculous and pointless" way, but a "this is new and hard and good and will make me a better person/student/writer/etc" way. Does that make sense?

I'm excited for the opportunities that come with King's and New York City. Whether that be seeing shows on Broadway -- which will be rare because I'm going to be sooo broke -- or joining a new club -- they have a swing dancing club, which sounds awesome, despite my lack of skill -- or internships at publishing houses, or studying abroad -- you can go to Oxford, for one. Yes, please.

I'm excited to live in New York City. I'm excited to live in the center of culture. I'm excited to have a tiny apartment and have to figure out how to decorate it. I'm excited to hunt down record stores and vintage boutiques in a new city. I'm excited for the independence that comes with moving away (which also kind of scares me, but it's fine).

I'm excited to meet new people. Like, do you ever think about how many people there are in the world? And that they all have different stories and interests and backgrounds and the idea of meeting more people just makes me really happy and also kind of fills me with social anxiety but you know, it's fine.

I'm excited to be a part of the House of Clara Barton (who won the House Cup this year, so that's a pretty good sign). I'm really glad the House System exists. I'm glad to know that there's a group of people who will have my back and be there for me, especially at first. Six or seven of the girls already followed me on Instagram and it made me feel really welcomed and happy.

I'm excited to see how God will use me in the next year/next four years/rest of my life.

I'm just excited to see what happens next.

Heck, I'm even excited for the business casual dress code, because I'm gonna wear vintage dresses all the time. (I actually am very interested to see how people make business-casual their own. Like, how do I combine business casual and indie grunge and vintage class? Is that even possible? I'm so excited it's ridiculous.)

I think it'll be worth it. Worth the fear and sacrifice. I know God has a plan, even if my plan only goes as far as moving day. It'll be good.

Anyway, now you all know.

Dear Fifteen-Year-Old Me,

Oh goodness. Freshman me. Just as awkward, far more innocent, so much more judgemental and insecure. Sweet, shy, ridiculous freshman me. Here are some things you should know:

-- Learn to love the States. I know you struggle with fitting in right now, and you struggle with anger towards most of the people in this country, but they know not what they do. They don't know about the people living under the caste system. They haven't experienced the crowds of Commercial Street or the monsoon season or pain of leaving your friends in a different country. They have not met the girls orphaned or abandoned in villages. They haven't sat through traffic for two hours in order to get to youth group. They will want a 30-second description of two years of your life, and you will want to hate them for that. I promise, I promise you it gets better. Remember: But for the grace of God, you could be where they are. The problems and blessings in the States will take a lot of re-learning, but they are there. Every country is flawed, every people group is flawed, and yet there is still beauty in all of them. It will take a while to feel like you belong here, and for that I am sorry.

-- Make good girl friends. And good guy friends. Just make friends. Be kind and don't prejudge people. The kids who annoyed you to no end sophomore might be your good friends senior year. Let them grow up. Heck, let yourself grow up.

-- Accept that no one is perfect. Not you, not your friends, not your teachers, not your parents. Everyone messes up, so give grace.

-- Don't just complain about things you dislike. Work on changing it if you can, and if you can't change it then suck it up and move on.

-- Sophomore year will be basically awful, but focus on the good things. Mrs. B, your new friends, dancing in the "Marian Librarian" scene, Jahn, The Name of the Wind, Newspaper, Concert Choir... It's not all bad. You'll grow and learn a lot this year, in spite of -- or really because of  -- the fact that it's mostly horrible.

-- Try new things. Do a sport. Try art. Let yourself be bad at things for the sake of learning. You might find out you love (and kind of hate) swimming or something.

-- Be silly and goofy. Don't worry about what people think. You'll be far happier if you just do what you want. Laugh at your mistakes and awkward moments. Store up embarrassing stories, because they make great ice breakers. Just accept that you are an awkward, clumsy human who can't do phone calls properly and spills everything and is just generally awkward.

-- Within the confines of the law and your parents' wishes, do crazy, stupid things. Be careful, but don't be fearful.

-- Don't get wrapped up in your friends' boy drama. Just don't. Be there for them, absolutely. But don't get sucked into the cycle of love and heartbreak.

-- Don't get wrapped up in your own boy drama. I don't mean "Swear off boys/dating completely." I mean, don't let youself become consumed by a boy at this point. Be wise. Pray through everything. Be cautious with whom you allow your heart. Some guys suck, and others just aren't right for you. It's okay to make mistakes, it's okay to try, it's okay for your heart to leap and for you to giggle with happiness after your first kiss or to cry after a breakup. But know who you are in Christ and know that no boy is perfect. None can "complete" you. Only Jesus can.

-- It's okay to let your friendships change over the years. It's okay to let go of people who aren't healthy for you to be around. Surround yourself with people who bring you joy and help you become a better person.

-- Embrace the geek within you. Own the fact that you play DragonVale and ship Dramione and listen to musicals about American history and read more than you work out and can quote Doctor Who and love Benedict Cumberbatch. Geek will be cool in a couple years. Or at least cooler. Well. At least not weird.

-- Your relationships are more important than your grades. Sometimes you need to get out and chill in Kris's basement or Ellen's backyard and just talk about stuff instead of doing a Government study guide. That being said, don't just blow off your grades completely. Turn off Netflix and do your math homework. Seriously.

-- Get Spotify asap. You will love it. Listen to all sorts of music and become somewhat familar with popular songs/dances. Dance parties are bonding experiences, and a decent Charleston can get you far in life.

-- Be grateful for the opportunities you get. Because you will have some fabulous opportunities. You will meet amazing people and be a part of amazing things and go amazing places. So take a moment and be thankful for them.

-- Get off your phone/computer/etc. sometimes. It's good for your soul.

-- Make your relationship with God a priority. Be a person after God's heart. "Improve your serve." This one actually takes you a long time to learn, but work at it. Love God, love people. Sounds simple, until you have to do Chemistry homework and memorize the presidents and make notecards for a research paper and work on musical stuff. Those things will alllll fade away, Addi. Christ and people will not.

-- Don't overcommit. Say no sometimes. It's good for you. It's hard, but it's good.

-- It's okay to cry during all movies ever. And all books. Which is good, because you do. Just go with it. If you're lucky, as cute boy will take pity on you and let you cry into his shoulder. (Just kidding. That never happens. You just cry alone over Harry Potter and eat ice cream.)

-- Do not place your value in your grades, your popularity, your talents, your looks, your likes on social media, your "spiritual-ness," or basically anything outside of the fact of knowing that you are fearfully and wonderfully made. Don't fall into a comparison trap. Place your self-esteem in the fact that you are God's child and He has created you. Other's opinions of you -- and even your opinions of yourself -- will change, but God's love will not. I cannot even explain to you how important this is.

-- Don't ask boys what they're laughing about, especially if/when you're good enough friends that they'll actually tell you. You don't want to know. Trust me. 

The Big City

Over the course of this semester, I've gotten to go to Chicago and New York City on college visits.

I thought I would like Chicago far more than New York City, going just from their reputations.

I was wrong.

I really like NYC. It's not nearly as scary or crazy as people make it sound. Now, to be fair, I spent most of my time in the Financial District, which is mostly just business people. We did go to Broadway and Times Square and Grand Central Station. There was not a single time there when I felt unsafe or out of my element. Sure, there's a lot of people, and yeah there's not much green, but it didn't seem like this big, cruel machine. Everyone we encountered was nice. That being said, New York isn't a place where people are going to strike a conversation with you in the elevator or on the subway. But I don't think that's really normal anywhere (well, maybe the South? I don't know).

New York is more European than anywhere else I've been in America. I think maybe my time in London, Paris, and Rome prepared for that. Also, there were several times that reminded me of Bangalore. Other parents visiting would be marveling at the crowds or the traffic or the dirt, and Mom and I were just like, "I didn't think it was bad at all."

This post is actually sounding more pretentious/stuck-up by the second. I don't mean to be like, "Oh, you just think New York is crazy and scary because you've never been out of the Midwest." I would probably be overwhelmed too had it not been for living in India. As it was, I felt quite at home.

I've been wondering, for a while now, if that time in India was preparing me for something else. Now I'm wondering if this school and this city is that "something else." I don't know. It's too soon to tell. But the school I visited -- the King's College -- was amazing. I fell in love with it. I like it so much more than either of the other schools I'm considering, which surprised me. I didn't expect myself to adore this tiny little private school in the heart of Manhattan. I didn't expect to want to live in a skyscraper and have to probably work at least two jobs and wear business casual every day and have to make my own food and live that far away from home.

But I do. A lot. It scares me more than any of the other schools, but I think it's a good kind of fear. It's going to be a challenge, and I want a challenge.

That all being said, nothing is decided. Lots could change in the next six months -- heck, a lot could change in the next six weeks. So don't take this as an "Addi's moving to New York!" post. No. I'm just saying that as of right now, I would very much like to go to New York.

So that's the current status of my college search.