Years ago someone coined the phrase “millenial.” Almost immediately, this word was associated with personality traits no one would want to be connected with. Millenials are whiny. They can’t get jobs after college. They all move back home. They don’t understand hard work. They are addicted to their phones. They are so entitled. And on, and on, and on. And, as someone who would be horrified to be described in such a manner, I vehemently opposed being associated with the generation that I may or may not be a part of. Further, when I became a teacher and saw some of the up and comers? Who were also supposedly “millenials?” Oh, you best believe I was going to deny my generational moniker with ever fiber of my being. Some recent events, however, have made me come to a new conclusion: I don’t mind being a millenial. I’d even say I am proud of it. Continue reading “I’m Finally Okay with Being a Millenial”
Lent is one of my favorite times of year. Please know, I felt weird typing that. Lent, a time in the Catholic Church designed for self sacrifice and quiet repentance is not technically something to be enjoyed. It begins with literally putting ashes on your forehead, so it isn’t exactly a party. However, growing up in a very Catholic household it strangely, but rapidly, became something I looked forward to. Continue reading “Lent – A Season of Joyful Memories”
My sorority has a phrase that they use in regard to officer positions. In Pi Beta Phi we practice “servant leadership.” If you haven’t heard this phrase before, it is a bit of a head-scratcher. “Servant” and “leader” by definition could not be more different. But that, dear friends, is the whole point. Pi Phi discovered long ago that they didn’t want typical leaders. They wanted servant leaders. Continue reading “The Concept of Servitude”
Dear Negative Nancy,
It should probably come as no surprise to anyone reading this that I am a generally happy person. My blog is title Spread a Little Sunshine, after all. I love joy. My default setting is “pleasant, with a touch of hopefulness.” I know not everyone can be this way. I know that some people aren’t morning people. I know that when I walk in the door at work and in my singsongy voice say “Good morning!” (or, if I’m really feeling happy, “Good morning fellow Americans!”) all you see is this:
Last night I fell. I fell hard. It all happened as I was walking out of a spin class. It was a great class, and I was feeling good. I was sweaty, but not dripping, and I was tired, but I totally had my wits about me. The teacher was standing in the doorway high-fiving each of us as we walked out. It was taking a bit, to get out one by one, but we didn’t mind. I was really excited for my high-five! I love a good atta-girl, so I couldn’t wait for my turn. I got up to the front, got my high five, and took one step out the door. As I did my feet slipped out from under me and I went down. I went flying and landed sitting straight up with both legs stretched out in front of me. Continue reading “The “It’s None of My Business” Epidemic”
My mom had a phrase she would use when we were growing up. It would often happen after a long weekend, when there were just a million things out of place. She would always ask, usually during dinner, if she could “set the timer for one hour.” Now, this practice was always curious, for in asking this question she was telling both a literal truth and a lie. The lie was the words “may I.” She always asked, just out of politeness. This was a lie because of course, she was mom, there was no way we would ever say no. The truth, on the other hand, was that she was literally going to set the timer for exactly 60 minutes. Continue reading “An Ode to the Kitchen Timer”
Moving to a new city as an adult is, in my opinion, one of the greatest trials of life. While those that have never moved far from home may find this statement a wee bit dramatic, those that have started completely fresh in a new town will know exactly what I mean. Starting completely from scratch feels nearly impossible. When I moved to Oklahoma for graduate school, my mom came out with me to help get my apartment set up. The first few days in my new city I had her by my side, so I didn’t notice how lonely it was. The second I got back from dropping her off at the airport and closed my front door behind me, I realized: I was completely alone.