‘Tis The Season

Costco may be already selling unreasonably large, inflatable snowmen and holiday lights, but the Christmas season isn’t what I’m excited about. I’m talking about FOOTBALL! And I don’t just mean any football, but TROJAN FOOTBALL! Since starting college and moving about a bajillion miles away (Okay, only 346. But who’s counting, right?), I’ve had a difficult time with transitions. It’s always so hard for me to leave my amazing life back in the bay (not to mention the amazing people), but once I get to school and get settled, everything seems normal. And when it’s time to leave school and go back home, it’s a weird transition again: living at home with my parents, following rules, cleaning up after myself, blah blah blah. And both lives are great! I wouldn’t trade them for anything; they’re just very, very different.

But when August rolls around and I’m packing all of my (un)necessary stuff, there’s one thing that makes my move back down to Southern California a lot sweeter and a little bit easier: football. There is nothing that compares to sitting front row in the student section of the LA Coliseum, surrounded by my Helenie-babies, cheering on my boys. The amount of pride and love that I have for this school is simply indescribable. Or if you want it in Megan terms: I just can’t even. I know what it feels like to compete with USC across my chest (I get goosebumps by simply thinking about it), and looking around the stadium at 90+ thousand fans that have that same pride and love for my university? It’s incredible. There are no words. I just can’t even.

Football Is Back

Gamedays at SC are pretty big; and when I say big, I mean my mother reconsidered paying tuition due to the insane amount of tailgating and the large masses of people that cover every inch of the campus before proceeding to the coliseum; I think she was afraid that I’d never make it to class (valid concern, Mom). But this year, I was slightly more prepared than I have been in the past. Being in my third year here, I’ve learned a few things about gameday:

  1. If it’s a day game, you’re going to be scorching. Get over it or go home.
  2. Wear closed toed shoes; no one cares if they’re squishing your piggies.
  3. Do not hold posters or signs of any kind that draw unnecessary attention to yourself; that always ends poorly. No comment.
  4. Make sure you’ve got some good friends by your side. With a few of those, you’ll have everything else that you need.

Stay safe on gamedays and most importantly: enjoy yourself! You can’t sit in the student section forever.

Oh, and Fight On. Always.



Eat In; Stay Thin

Being a poor college student with (unfortunately) limited funds, Stephanie and I have decided to have a contest: who can eat out the least. The rules are as follows:

  1. No eating out.
  2. No eating out under any circumstance.
  3. It doesn’t matter if a boy wants to buy you food; no eating out.
  4. Loser buys winner a meal of their choice

*Your’e allowed 2 drip coffees a week from Starbucks (mostly for when the all-nighters are calling…)*

That’s pretty much the game. Seems simple right? Well, it is. But it’s extremely difficult! I guess I never realized how much I crave Yogurtland until I couldn’t have it anymore (don’t even get me started on my Skinny Vanilla Latte withdrawals). I’ve probably heard 10 whining variations of my name in the past week when Stephanie is wailing about how much she wants boba or Sprinkles. But no matter how much she whines, I’m not giving in. Eating in is not only a smarter choice for my (mom’s) debit card, but it’s better for my body, too. And being a collegiate athlete, I owe it to myself, my team, and my potential to eat right and fuel my body well.

Now that’s doesn’t mean I don’t have the occasional piece of chocolate or a huge bowl of cereal when I’m having a bad day, but it means making healthy choices every chance I can and limiting myself when I’m indulging. One way I decide when I should indulge is based on how badly I want it (I know… Einstein over here). But seriously, if I only ‘feel like some froyo,’ that’s not good enough for me. There are days when I seriously CAN NOT LIVE WITH OUT IT; those are the days when I treat myself. And today just might just be one of those days… but obviously I’ll have to whip out the VitaMix because there is no way I’m losing this bet!

Happy SatudayAfter practice today the roomies and I came home and made breakfast together; I loved cooking and making a delish meal that we could share (even meat free for Alyssa… I know… the things we do for her). And you know what? It tasted that much better than any breakfast that I could have ordered because I was enjoying it with a few of my favorites. And it was healthy, too. What more can an LA girl ask for?

Enjoy your Saturday 🙂


Living The Dream

As I was walking across campus to my International Law lecture this afternoon (I have to throw that in there so my parents know I’m actually attending class), I saw this girl laying in a hammock. Reading a book. In the center of campus. At noon. On a Thursday. Yeah sure, you could say I have a few free hours in my schedule here and there throughout the week (usually spent eating or sleeping–how basic of me), but seriously: what college student not only has time to lay in a hammock and read a book (fictional, I might add), but who actually knows how to safely assemble a hammock?! It even had a water bottle holder. I know, right?

Often times I try to imagine my life without college athletics, and although it would consist of ample amounts of free time (probably enough time to research how to construct a hammock–multiple times), I don’t know that I’d be happy. I think free time is kind of like money in a way; even if you have a lot of it, it still doesn’t make you happy unless you’re spending it with the right people. I wouldn’t trade my crazy, jam-packed, and sometimes unbearably scheduled life for anything–and I do mean anything. Except for the occasional nap, I think. They are so clutch in college. It’s not everyone’s ideal life, but to me? I’m living the dream. When else in my life am I going to be living with three of my best friends, with no parents (aka no rules), and someone funding my numerous adventures (credits to Neil and Julie for that one…literally; I have their Visas )? I’m pretty sure the answer to that is: never.

People always say that “college is the best time of your life.” And as I start to open my eyes and realize just how much of an experience this is (even if it’s not a cliché one filled with late night Chanos and hangovers), I begin to become more and more thankful for the people and the opportunities that surround me. Everyday, I have a choice: I can either complain about my insane and seemingly impossible life, or I can suck it up and figure it out. Perspective is everything, and if you turn your head a little bit to the right, slightly forward and sideways about 9 degrees, you’ll start to realize that you’re probably living the dream, too; your dream. It just depends on which way you look at it 😉


This is my life. And thank goodness.

Sometimes in the middle of my day, I’ll look to my right, and then to my left and think to myself: how did I get so lucky? No I don’t have everything, but I have everything that counts. I’m 20 years old with a roof over my head (thanks mom and dad), food in my stomach (thanks mom and dad), I go to an incredible yet insanely expensive university (HUGE thanks mom and dad), and I have the most beautiful, interesting and loving friends that anyone could ever dream of.

Friends Are Golden

I probably laugh at least an hour a day. Obviously not straight, but if you added it up? I would say at least an hour. Am I funny enough to crack myself up for over an hour a day? I mean, I think I am, but I don’t think that’s the case. I have the craziest yet most entertaining roommates; one in particular–you know who you are (between you and me, her name is Stephanie). And as we were walking back from our workout today, I thought to myself: Wow. This is my life. These are the moments and memories that I’m going to take with me and cherish when I’m old and wrinkly–when I’m on Stephanie’s team (she loves old people).

I think so often we’re too busy focusing on today. And I know that sounds silly because everyone always says, “Be present; live for today; focus on the now because tomorrow is never guaranteed.” And I agree with that. Today is the most important day. But I think that most of us are too caught up in the details of today–what we’re going to wear to class or how we’ll ever get that homework done (Probably by not blogging at 1am and doing homework instead? Just a thought) or my personal favorite: how am I ever going to get through that workout. But you eventually put clothes on, you actually sit down and get that homework done, and you push through that deadly sweat sesh. Too often do I stress about the insignificant details of my life that I forget to remember the truly amazing ones: my unbelievably loving parents, my insane yet perfectly unique sister, and my pee-your-pants from laughing too hard hilarious friends (it only happened this one time, I swear).

All of the small details in life matter, but only for right now. Whenever I’m having a serious meltdown about my life–which is often considering I’m a hormonally unstable 20 year old trying to fight through college–I try to think to myself: is this really going to matter when I’m 80? That stats homework and the PR that I have to set later today? Are they really that life changing? Probably not. But my family and friends? Absolutely. Hands down.

The sun will always go down at night and come back up in the morning (I’m pretty sure…), but it’s up to you to decide what kind of day it’s going to be and where you take yourself. One promise that I can make you: the ones by your side will eventually be all that matter. On that note, I have a paper to go write…


Awkward Awkward Awkward

Welcome Your Awkward

Everyone has the occasional awkward moment: a blank stare from a familiar face, an unexpected run in with an ex and you were supposed to be the one who is happier without them, or even just swallowing your words (one of my personal favorites). But me? No. I don’t just do the occasional awkward; I define awkward. If the average awkward moment is a Honda Accord–sensible, mid-sized, yet not a jaw dropper (sorry to those of you that live and breathe for your Accords)–then my awkward moments are equivalent to a fleet of Aston Martins surrounding a hot pink Rolls Royce (totally saw one tonight; only in Beverly Hills) being escorted by the National Guard. Today, this lovely Tuesday of the first week of school, has proven itself a great example of my undeniably entertaining awkward moments. Don’t be afraid to laugh, I am well aware that my life is mortifyingly hilarious.

I was taking a little cool down jog after my working today, and the USC Marching Band (Fight On!) was practicing on the track. There were different groups scattered around the field, each with a distinct instrument. I spent the first two laps looking for all of my adorable Helene-Bandies, and as I was starting my 3rd lap, I saw her: Amy–the birthday girl! As I’m circling the track and getting within earshot, I looked her way and shouted: AMY. AMY. AMY. She turned: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, AMY! And just as I turned forward, I ran straight into a gate that was closing off the first three lanes of the track from being used. Right in front of her; right in front of everyone. She dropped to the floor laughing–probably peed her pants–and I’m pretty positive that she has been telling the story to everyone that she’s seen since it happened at 4pm today. Lucky me. All I have to say is: Happy-freaking-Birthday, Amy. I hope you enjoyed your little show today.

In other news, I also mistakenly told the scooper at Sprinkles Ice Cream today that one of my girl friends and I are a couple. Awesome, way to go, Megan. For the record: just because ‘you’re together’ with your payment doesn’t mean you’re actually ‘together.’ Clearly the Sprinkles lady doesn’t have the full scoop. Pun intended.

Best of luck with the most difficult day of the week tomorrow. Just make it until noon. It’s all downhill from there.


Brand New You

There’s something nostalgic about new beginnings; and not unicorns and daisies nostalgia, but a fresh chance at purity and hope. New beginnings mean endless possibilities. The world is a complete unknown. For the first time in a long time, you have a clean slate–a blank canvas, a palette full of fresh acrylics, and you’re van Gogh. I’ve always seen the beginning of a new school year as a gateway to endless opportunity and incredible chance. I can completely start over–be whoever I want to be. To the average person, I am absolutely no different today than I was yesterday; but to me? I’m a slightly less cluttered, worried, junk-food eater, and I’ve instantly become a more wholesome, free, and loving individual. Just like that. Overnight. Back to School And I’m sure it will wear off, give it a few weeks–or months if I’m lucky–and then I’ll find a new reason to recharge and restart my life: New Years, Lent, my Birthday (yes, that totally deserves a capital letter), the beginning of summer,  and then just like clockwork, I’ll be sitting here going into another year of school and ready to start my life over and reform whoever it is that I’ve settled to be. But rather than seeing my constant need for change as an inconsistency and inability to follow through, I see it as something positive.  I have the ability to constantly reevaluate myself and–surprisingly, yet thankfully–I’m motivated enough to alter my life as I see necessary. Over these oh-so-long twenty years that I’ve lived, critiquing myself and owning my weaknesses has been one of my greatest challenges; no one wants to hear when they’re subpar–except obviously Rory McIlory right now–and it’s hard to admit when you aren’t being who you know you should be. It’s even harder to stand up to yourself and do something about it. So who cares if it takes a new school year for me to finally clean my room, purge my closet, and start eating some more veggies? I mean after all, the old me wouldn’t have blogged about the new me… and so it begins. -Megan