Valentines, a time for chocolate, roses and an overwhelming amount of bitterness from the people who don’t have a significant other to share the Hallmark holiday with.
Sure, Valentines day is a corporate holiday created to make money but it seems like it’s here to stay, so why not make the best of it.
Valentines day doesn’t have to be just about romantic love, but also the every day kind of love.
The love you feel for the barista who makes your coffee every morning, therefore saving you from the sleep deprived sadness that was about to strike at any minute. The love you feel for scary movies and peanut butter sandwiches and wind chimes may not make your heart beat faster, but they are things that make you happy.
Love doesn’t have to be measured in overzealous romantic gestures but in the little things that make your day a little bit better.
The contents of my 6 year old purse reveal the things I love: crumpled coffee receipts, a ticket from a movie I saw with my dad and my favorite red nail polish.
The lack of romantic love in my life isn’t a negative for me. While most girl yearn for the unrealistic romances straight from the pages of a Nicholas Sparks movie, this Valentines Day I want to be doing something I love. I will be with my family this year, which for me is better than any Ryan Gosling or Channing Tatum.
French macarons. Instantly recognizable, coveted. A pastry to instill child like glee in the hearts of all.
If the sight of those perfectly round little sandwiched pastel cookies does not evoke some sort of emotion, specifically respect, in you then you, yes you dear reader, have absolutely no soul.
These deceiving angelic and simple looking cookies are probably Satan’s tea cakes of choice. All those french pastry chefs regardless of Michelin star status are hand-picked by Satan for his person entourage.
Why I make such a large deal of them you may ask yourself. Well in truth perhaps I exaggerate a tad, but still.
French macarons are notorious in the pastry world.
The batter is temperamental on an exceptionally good day, piping a load of tears, and not to mention don’t even bother showing up if they aren’t perfectly round and smooth enough to make a baby’s butt look like sand paper.
Again perhaps I exaggerate.
But despite my dramatic air the parameters of a good macaron are truly satanic.
This is why my head nearly spun round, detached itself, and did a jig when I tried to bake these infamous cookies for the first time this weekend.
The reason I almost exorcised my self is because the first batch I have ever made turned out looking like this:
Bragging aside it was surprising to say the least. After hearing horror stories from my baking partners past attempt, I was prepared for blood sweat and tears. Too say the least I’m frickin proud of me and my dear baking buddy.
The world of baking is endless and the grandma just got adventurous.
This past week was the busiest of my life. I don’t want to go into great detail about every assignment, but let’s just say that I had about a week’s worth each night. Seriously.
I had one paper or major project due every day, along with smaller daily assignments. On top of that, I had the ACT on Saturday which I had to study for.
I didn’t wear makeup one time – and while that’s not of great importance to me, I think it serves as a visual representation of my stress.
This weekend isn’t any better – with the combination of my test and homework for next week, it’s just as busy. Next week is already set up to be the equivalent of this past one. I can’t catch a break!
Everyone always says how junior year is the hardest – there’s the most work, it’s the most stressful and of course, the most important. I can now say, with complete assurance, that I finally understand.
Fashion Week is coming. Some may regard it as the best time of the year (I know I do). Luckily, the best time of the year actually comes two times a year, in fall and in spring.
When Fashion Week kicks off February 10th the clothes, models, designers, and fashion icons take over the streets of New York City.
They then move on to London, then Milan, with a grand finale in Paris. This beautiful madness lasts a month before the fashion editors race to choose their favorite looks, and decide which pieces will grace the covers of Vogue, Elle, Harper’s Bazaar, and more.
Fashion Week is also the habitat for new trends to form, new street style stars to be launched into the fashion-fame-stratosphere, and for new models to dominate catwalk, billboards, and magazines alike.
While this flurry of fashion may only last a month, it decides everything in fashion, until the next fashion week at least. Yes, it is the greatest time of year.
If you haven’t heard, I am happy to announce that Ben & Jerry’s has created four new flavors… DAIRY FREE!
Yes I am talking about the same Ben & Jerry’s that makes the amazing Phish food ice cream, that melts in your mouth. Yes, the same Ben & Jerry’s that is always there for you no matter what; anything from a birthday to a breakup.
I cannot express to you how excited I am to sink my spoon into these four new flavors. Due to my extreme excitement I have already decided what order I will try them in.
Coffee Caramel Fudge
Fudge Brownie
Chunky Monkey
P.B. & Cookies
They are marketing these new flavors as “Vegan”. Typically I stray away from the whole vegan trend. However, I am willing to over look that so I can enjoy my new dairy free ice cream.
To me this is a huge step forward in accommodating those who simply cannot stomach all the real thing.
I am extremely hopeful that these new flavors will be just as good as the others. I am ready to be able to eat ice cream without a stomach ache… However if these flavors do disappoint, I am willing to suck it up and deal with the stomach ache.
There’s a certain thing I love about rainy days. Being able to take the day off to snuggle under a mountain of blankets and pillows. Breaking into the food cabinet for hot chocolate and marshmallows. Making a batch of warm, gooey cookies. Watching an old play and eating popcorn.
Driving in rain is so peaceful. Watching the drops race each other down the window. The rhythmic swipe swipe of the window-wiper. The drops making little thuds on the car roof. The heater blasting hot air like an invisible blanket.
Playing in the rain is so fun. Getting soaked from the puddles brought on by an endless downpour. Earlier this year, a group of friends and I had a water fight. We filled up buckets or cups or whatever we could find and just threw them at each other. It would’ve gone on for hours if it wasn’t for dinner. We looked like sad little puppies when we came inside, and immediately dried off.
One thing I love doing in the rain is going in the hot tub. I know, that sounds quite odd. But when I’m at home, we’ll turn it on and it feels so cool. The cool drops on your head and shoulders contrasts so much to the hot water keeping you warm everywhere else.
Even though rain can be inconvenient, like when a wedding or party has to be moved inside, it still is something I look forward to. The memories I’ve made because I had to stay inside because of the rain, and the memories I’ve made because of getting soaked by it, are ones I truly cherish. Sadly, in California, it’s drier than a saltine cracker and it rarely rains.
What happens when the things around you seem to become dark and grey?
What about when your life gets flipped upside down and all of a sudden the things that used to make you happy remind you of everything you have lost.
You look around and suddenly the people who used to be there for you everyday, the ones you couldn’t go a day without talking to, disappear without a trace.
Everything that made you, you is gone in a flash
The hikes that used to love to take now feel like every breath is a burden
The bike with a wicker basket that you used to ride around your block, which was once filled with amazing memories, sits in the back of your garage rusting away.
When everything that made you happy now makes you feel dejected and hurt
So my dad is basically on house arrest because of his recent heart attack. Because of this house arrest that he has been sentenced to by his doctors and my mother, he has decided to take up and master the art of cooking.
His goal: to cook a new dish, EVERY SINGLE day.
Now this is coming from a man who usually NEVER cooks and when he does, we usually end up calling for a pizza late at night.
My dad has many great talents, unfortunately cooking is not one of them.
So far he has made the following dishes:
Cauliflower soup with WAY too much pepper, ( I think he missed the “taste as you go” memo).
Spaghetti squash pasta with a spinach sauce; lets just say he loves his food processor and we ended up having spaghetti squash with baby formula.
Fisherman’s Pie; coincidentally while he was cooking the power in our house went out and it was only half cooked, he still decided to serve it.
On top of all his glorious attempts of these new recipes, he’s sent my mom to the store every single day to get ingredients, not quite realizing that the ingredients we already have at the house could be used for cooking as well.
While throwing in his own changes to the recipes, he also likes to add some humor. He makes constant reference to the cooking TV show Chopped. Every time one of his new “creations” doesn’t go as planned he says, ” Well I think the judges would have chopped me for that one!” or if it is a success( I’ve yet to taste one) he says, ” That one would have gotten me to the next round!”
While he is still going strong on his cooking binge, and I applaud his efforts, I wouldn’t mind having a pizza for dinner anytime soon.
You are wired – it is how your brain functions. You are programmed – you are made in one specific way.
You have a chemical makeup, you are your own chemical makeup.
It epitomizes you, it controls you, it decides who you are.
It is set in stone, yet is easily altered. And when that happens, it is scary.
What once controlled you and monitored who you are, has now changed. You are no longer yourself – once made up from certain chemicals, you are now inhabited by imposters.
You are changed, you are different.
You are not yourself.
They say it’s good, they say it helps. It’s good for you, it will make things better.
It will make you better.
You are out of control. You are not yourself.
Are you better?
They say things will be easier, that you are struggling.
It will put you at ease.
You just need to be different, a changed version of yourself.
OVS Journalism Blog 
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