On Being Human and Eating Doughnuts

People frequently ask me why I do things.

“Why are you cutting off all your hair?”

“Why are you moving to California?”

“Why are you biting my leg?”

And quite frequently my response is “I don’t know. It just seemed like the thing to do.”

As a survivor of multiple suicide attempts, I’ve come to fully appreciate my time on earth and to understand on a personal and physical level that life is finite. I don’t want to waste one precious second of it doubting myself or my decisions.

Which is why when people asked “Why are you trying to eat a giant doughnut in under three minutes?” I just smiled and said “I don’t know. It seems like the thing to do.”

It started on a late-night doughnut run to Bob’s Donuts, a paradise of fried dough and simple carbohydrates. Staring at me from the window was a gorgeous behemoth, sugary, quiet, waiting.

“There’s a contest,” my friend told me. “If you can eat one of those in under two minutes, you get your name on the wall of fame, plus a free doughnut.”

I was hooked.

I won’t lie and tell you that I dreamt of the doughnut, but it was a close thing. The day I had decided to make the attempt, I woke up with a pit in my stomach. No good. I needed that thing empty. I spent the morning doing quiet breathing exercises to calm my nerves.

Then there was the matter of stomach-stretching. I did a quick Google-search for food competitions and discovered that I was already behind schedule. But so it goes. To make up for it, I spent the day eating bags of goldfish followed by cups and cups of water to expand the belly. For clothing, I wore a loose-fitting dress with plenty of room in the gut-region.

And so the day passed.

At last, accompanied by two brave compatriots, I wound my way through the streets of San Francisco under the growing darkness to Bob’s Donuts. The sign glowed red against the setting sun, the door yawning like the maw to hell. Or maybe I was hallucinating.

We entered. A quiet shop. A few commoners purchasing their daily dozen. Family Feud playing on the television.

I approached the counter with as much moxie and vigor as I could.

“Um, hi. Do you, uh, still have those really big doughnuts?”

“We’re just cooking a fresh batch now,” the woman said. “You can wait here if you want.”

So we did, that tantalizing and aching fifteen minutes. During that time, I was able to reflect on just about everything. Including how goddamn big that doughnut was.

Nine inches by nine inches to be exact.

I’ve done a lot of crazy things in my life. Flown to Peru on a whim. Jumped in some bodies of water. Written a novel in a month. Ate a stick of butter in ten minutes. Moved across the country without a job. Trapped voles in a tall-grass prairie. All sorts of things.

I like doing crazy things. It makes me feel alive. It makes me feel that I’m doing something worthwhile, one leap at a time. But eating this doughnut might be the final doughy straw.

Before I had time to second-guess myself, though, the doughnut had appeared in a pretty pink box. It was larger than my head.

The helpful fellow behind the counter explained the rules, got out his phone, and said, “Okay you can start.”

And I was off. That first bite was incredible. The doughnut still warm, delicious, and way chewier than I imagined. The second bite was like gnawing into wet sand. The next few minutes flew by in a whirl of nervous giggling and furious chomping and, at last, when the dust had settled and the three minutes were up, the doughnut was still sitting there.

Or half of it anyway.

I had failed.

In addition to attempting a lot of crazy things, I also am accustomed to succeeding at crazy things. I got into my first-choice college, the only one I applied to. I was accepted on the study abroad program of my dreams.

Yes, mostly because I’m incredibly privileged. But also because I’m too stubborn to quit before I’ve even tried.

So, here I was, staring my failure in the face.

It was incredibly freeing.

For so long I’ve tried to be the best. The best partner back when I was dating people. The best ex after I wasn’t. The best friend. The best student. The best barista. The best writer. The best activist.

But you know what? I’m not any of those things. I never will be. I am a human being, and that means I am incredibly flawed. I make mistakes. I send drunk emails. I think mean thoughts. Some days I’m tired and I don’t even leave my house, never mind showing up to that protest or calling my senators for the umpteenth time.

Some days I don’t eat the whole doughnut.

And that’s okay.

I am human. I like to do crazy things. And sometimes I’m going to fail.

It is okay, sometimes, between those bites of doughy goodness, to take a breath.

I don’t know. It just seems like the thing to do.

 

Be Like Water

I’m about to turn twenty-four. Which is just something that happens, I suppose.

In my twenty-four years of living, I’ve thought about a lot of things and done a number of things and come to a very, very few conclusions.

One thing that has always been important to me, though, is water. Not only from a survival, but on a spiritual and psychological level as well. Whether it was the shores of Lake Maxincuckee, the majestic Mississippi, or now the roaring Pacific Ocean, I have always found myself drawn to the constant change of water.

In thinking about water, as a scientist and a human, I’ve distilled (ha) a few key life-lessons from that most miraculous of molecules. Read and enjoy.

1.) Love yourself.

Water is hydrophilic, because of the nature of its polarity, water molecules are attracted to one another. This makes the capillary effect possible and allows trees to grow to such great heights. Way to go water! It is also an important lesson for us as people.

If there is anything that we as a species need more of (and there isn’t much I can tell you) it is love. And I believe that love, like, peace or forgiveness, must in fact start within.

Love, by my definition, is caring deeply about the well-being and growth of someone, and it must start with the self.

As someone who struggles with depression, chronic self-doubt, and occasional self-harm, this is not a lesson easily learned. But self-love makes survival and meaning possible.

Self-love begins with self-understanding and self-understanding begins with self-reflection. I am one who spends a lot of time thinking about why I do what I do, so this hasn’t been much of a problem for me. But for many, especially people who have experienced trauma in their lives, self-reflection is not an easy or enjoyable experience. But I believe it to be a necessary one.

Water, in a sense, understands itself. It orients in such a way that the slightly negative end, the oxygen atom, is in line with the slightly positive end, the hydrogen atoms. In just such a way we must orient ourselves in a way that makes sense: extending our sense of compassion, pursuing what brings us joy, and valuing what is best in ourselves. We may bring this proverbial hydrogen atoms to view with understanding what we see as negative in ourselves: our frustrations, our regrets, our mistakes and cruelties. But always seeing that all our aspects of ourselves are necessary.

We may alleviate guilt at past mistakes, forgive those who have traumatized us, and release fears and anxieties by viewing these aspects as part of our beautiful and necessary polarity. We do not need to remain trapped by our negative traits or emotions, but neither can we always be the positive glowing stars if we are to exist as full humans. Through self-understanding we may achieve self-love and orient ourselves in a way that may allow for sustained and incredible growth, reaching the height of redwoods.

Be like water, begin the process of self-love.

2.) Sustain life.

With this incredible beginning of humanophilia, we may continue our emulation of water by committing to sustaining of life.

It is not an exaggeration to say that water made life on Earth possible. It was in the primordial oceans that the first nucleic acids began to form our fundamental blueprints. From the water the first plants begin their stretch to land. And water continues to be the key ingredient to continuing life.

I’m not saying you have to start creating new life forms all on your, I’m saying we should aspire to such levels of support and catalysis. It is my hope, if I have any life dreams, that I will be remembered as a kind human. I have failed in this in many regards, at times needing to cut people out of my life, at other times finding myself rejected for decisions I make.

But I still endeavor to be a fertile soil for people to express their concerns, to air their emotions, and to discuss their dreams. I hope to be a supportive lattice, a network of fluid affirmation to nourish the yearning desert of so many human hearts.

Yet as I seek to be a part of the gentle spring rain, I also hope to partake in the roaring flood that rewrites the landscape. Social justice is to me not only a matter of politics, but a matter of personal integrity. If I love myself, I am able to see myself in the faces and struggles of the people around me. And when I see suffering caused by systematic injustice, I know that it is not without me, but also within me. It is necessary to sustain life, to fight for justice for all people. I cannot fully love myself, I cannot pursue what brings me joy if I am not fighting for the full humanity of all my siblings.

Water flows to shape the face of the Earth, and I, though a single molecule, have a role in this universal etching.

Be like water, sustain life.

3.) Cycle.

And so we return to perhaps our first scientific introduction to water: the water cycle.

As a child growing up in a Westernized civilization, so much of what I was taught was linear. My plan for my life for example was single-mindedly direct: get good grades in school, go to college, write. There was no going backwards, no looking around, no moving in alternate directions.

But water does not move in straight lines. Water trickles, drops, dives, leaps, falls, and rises. Water moves through stages, now gas, now liquid, now solid, shifting and transforming into a vast array. Even still water is in the process of cycling, evaporating to rejoin its dancing sisters in the sky.

So, too, must I constantly be in a state of changing uniformity, forever myself and forever statically moving. Through research, meditation, conversation, and deep reflection, I am slowly beginning to realize that life will not be a straight line, nor should it be. I learn things and forget them, meet people and lose them, move across the country and stay in the same place. It, like time, is a cycle and flat. It reminds me to live in the present moment, the only moment that truly exists.

Be like water, cycle.

Water has always been sacred to me, life, power, beauty, understanding inside the drops of rain, transformed to trees, grass, and flowers, or beating through the veins of every human I’ve ever known. I will continue my thinking about water, and hope that its lessons will continue to lead me along.

This is Not What “Change” Looks Like

This is what a kleptocracy looks like.

So, if you happened to vote in this past election for the orange thing (I’m going to show it as much respect as it has shown me and my compatriots), and you don’t believe yourself to be racist or homophobic (HA), you probably voted because you wanted to shake up Washington.

Putting aside the fact that you placed your belief in a megalomaniac who promised to destroy millions of families both queer and migrant, register Muslims, increase the war against people of color, and cripple health care in general and women’s health care in specific, putting all that aside, you still aren’t getting what you voted for.

It turns out it doesn’t matter if you’re a wealthy politician or a wealthy “business-asshole”, sorry, “bussiness-man”, the wealthy in this country have for the past three hundred or so years been in the business of solidifying and increasing that wealth. If you thought the jingo-pig was any different, well, you’re in for a bumpy ride.

The only thing that differentiates the orange-marmaduke from other longer running politicians is 1) he’s overtly racist and has the support of Neo-Nazis and the KKK 2) he has openly admitted to sexually assaulting women 3) he has absolutely no idea what reality is. I think his tiny hands can’t hold onto the facts.

I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before I’m not allowed to write things like this without facing jail-time. I’m not exaggerating. The dingo-baby has already begun attacking the right of freedom of expression, and heaven knows his tiny ego can’t sustain itself when gets a taste of his own treatment. Not to mention he’s appointed Mike Pompeo as head of the CIA, so let’s all celebrate the return of torture.

I said I’d try to be more inclusive in my writing. But it’s 7:00AM and I woke myself up because I was so angry.

Okay, so back to the point. This dung that white people elected to office is not going to shake anything up politically speaking. He is only going to shake more money into his pockets and the pockets of his kkkronies. Why do you think he refuses to reveal his tax documents? It’s probably just to prove a point, right?

I would think this is ironic and divine comeuppance for the United States. That at last we have bitten our own tail: after putting dictators into power all around the world, we finally get a taste of our own medicine. But the problem is, this isn’t going to harm those responsible. They’ve got their safety nets. As always, this is going to harm the most vulnerable populations. In fact, some of those same vulnerable populations are running away from the dictatorships we created only to find themselves once more in the orangutans jaws.

So, what’s my point here. If you voted for the monster, it’s time to face up to the facts and start fighting against what he is doing. You’re probably just angry at me right now. That’s fine. You can be angry at me as much as you like as long as you stand with me to stop the return of torture, protect freedom of religion by opposing a Muslim registry, support working families by sheltering our immigrants, and prove you aren’t racist or homophobic by countering homophobic and racist policies. This means saying NO to the return of “law and order”. “Law and order” is just code for a return to stop-and-frisk, greater prison time with less legal justification and greater militarization of the already militarized police. This means saying NO to anything even close to resembling conversion therapy or the overturning of the 2015 Supreme Court marriage ruling.

So, that’s what I’ve got to say to people who voted for the mass of jello. I mean if you’re just racist and homophobic and hate women, then I’ve got nothing to say to you except that I’m human. And if you think I’m going to take this lying down you’ve got another thing coming.

Signs You May Be a Bookish Human

Yep, I’m still here. Still searching for a job and a place to live. Still scared out of my mind most days. Still angry. Still ranting. Still writing.

I thought I’d write a fluff post for the fun of it. It’s a list, because I guess we all think in lists now.

Signs You May Be a Bookish Human

1.) As a child the worst punishment was being told you couldn’t read for an hour.

2.) Likewise, while a small human, you were told multiple times not to read while walking (especially while crossing the street).

3.) A common tactic to infuriate you was to hide the book you were currently reading. (Staying mad, Sarah. Staying mad.)

4.) You knew the librarians by first name.

5.) You were shelving books before you were riding your bike.

6.) You got frustrated with your elementary school’s library because you’d finished all the books by the time you were in fourth grade.

7.) You knew how many pages per hour you could read (the answer was 100).

8.) You memorized the Dewey Decimal System before you knew who Britney Spears was.

9.) You nearly bankrupted the school by over-achieving in the Accelerated Readers program. Eventually the teacher said you couldn’t get candy bars every time you finished a book the same as the other kids. Probably better this way.

10.)  People have been asking you for book suggestions since you were ten.

11.) Although basically every other aspect of your dream house has changed over the years, there is always a library and there is always a reading nook.

12.) When packing, you fit your clothes in one box, your dishes in three, and your books in five.

13.) You are always working on at least two books at any given point in time. In case you get bored of one, you can always switch to the other.

14.) There is no greater source of shame than when you must admit to not having read one (or many) of the classics. Don’t talk to be about Moby Dick.

15.) You giggled at at least half of these.

There you go. I made a list for the internet. My work here is done.

P.S. I totally solved another Agatha Christie mystery! At Bertram’s Hotel. This brings my total up to two.

Letter to Those About to Graduate

I was going to write all my 2016 friends letters, but I’m lazy and would probably repeat a lot of the same information and, let’s face it, I’m just a terrible friend. So here’s this sad offering instead. Michelle, Tim, Casey, Sofia, Libby, and, yes, Jim, I’m looking at you.

First of all, congratulations! Take a deep breath! Like a really really deep one. YOU DID IT. YOU HAVE DONE IT. IT HAS BEEN DONE BY YOU. I hope you are so very very proud of yourself. You have worked so hard, and overcome so many challenges. You have faced the days when you just couldn’t do it any longer, and you went ahead and did it anyway. You made mistakes and you were sad and disappointed and lonely, and now, you beautiful animal you, you have graduated!

So, do yourself a favor and enjoy that and maybe don’t start your first job a week after working reunion…. but even if you do, that will be an adventure, too!

Here’s all the advice I wish someone had told me when I was graduating (even though they probably did and I just wasn’t paying attention):

  1. You are basically breaking-up with Carleton. Look, this doesn’t mean you can’t be friends again some day in the future. Something that is comforting to me is the idea that life is (hopefully) long. Your relationship with Carleton runs deep, so take time to move on from what you had to what you have. Don’t try to be over it all in one week. Healing takes time. Loving your new life takes time. Maybe don’t go back and visit three million times in the first month. Maybe don’t keep creeping on Overheard at Carleton. Maybe don’t constantly reminisce about the good old days. Because they were good but you’re missing out on the chance for better. How do I know this? Because I did all of it, and I wish I hadn’t.
  2. You may be going through break-ups with significant others, too. This is SO DIFFICULT. And it’s okay to admit that. And it’s okay to be lonely and to cry a lot, and to call your sister (or equivalent) too many times and to eat way too many corn dogs on the kitchen floor and to obsess about your ex’s new girlfriend and how she’s so much prettier than you and she’s probably smarter than you and when they get married you won’t even get invited to the wedding and you’ll only find out when they post baby pictures on Facebook and you’ll be alone and broke and still eating corn dogs on the kitchen floor and no one will ever love you ever ever again. It’s okay to feel all these things. But learn from my mistakes and don’t take them out on your ex. Give yourself space from said ex. Don’t immediately try to be best friends with them even though that’s what you really really really want. It turns out you’re not that cool and strong. To my knowledge, no one is. So give yourself time to feel all the crazy awful feels, and when you can think about things as your normal self, then you can see about being friends again. If they understand you need space, it won’t be that big of a deal. We’re young and stupid and full of emotions, and we make mistakes. If they don’t understand, then maybe you can find better friends.
  3. IT’S HARD OUT HERE. In a million ways you never could imagine in college. Like cooking. Cooking for yourself is hard. You have to get the darn ingredients, make the darn food, eat the darn food even if it’s gross, and then wash all the darn stuff up afterwards. And you have to do this sometimes three times a day. And if you don’t do this then you get hungry. And if you don’t eat the right stuff, after a few months you’re going to be cranky all the time and bruise like a banana. So. Eat vegetables, eat fruits, drink lots and lots of water. Get enough sleep. And go outside whenever you possibly can. Treat yourself nice, because it’s all you on now.
  4. IT’S BEAUTIFUL OUT HERE. In a million ways you never could imagine in college. What you decide is what you do. There is no one telling you to be in class or to show up to activities, no one saying you have to do such and such job or pay such and such amount for whatever. It’s all on you, baby, and it’s amazing! Independence is cold and lonely and it is wonderful and clean and you get to make your own darn mistakes over and over again.
  5. You will be okay. Whatever happens, I promise you, you will be okay. Listen, if I could make it through this year, quit my first job out of college, got SUPER dumped and had to stop talking to one of my best friends, went back on anti-depressants, and still have not had a single story published, and if after all that I’m still alive and kicking and somehow traveled to Peru and moving out to California and writing as much as I can… you can do it, too. You will have your own miraculous story about how you survived that first year out of college. And I hope you’ll call me up and tell me all about it. Because
  6. I am here for you. My friend, we have been through so much together. Not all of it good or pleasant. We may have drifted apart, but know that if ever you need me, I am here. If you need a place to crash, or a care package, or just a friendly voice on the end of the line. I got your back, dude. I am always 110% in your corner. Even if I get mad at you and you get mad at me and we don’t talk for like a month or for the rest of our lives, I’m still here and I still care about you. And so are all your other friends, Carleton or otherwise. If I’ve learned one thing this past year it is the meaning of friendship. Friendship isn’t about talking every day on the phone, or about living down the hallway from each other, it’s that person who would run across campus or drive across the state just to be there for you. You’ve got to find those people and you’ve got to be that person. And I wanna be one of those people for you, too.

With all the most sincere love in my rambling heart. You magnificent people, be free, be well, and be in touch. Congratulations, class of 2016!!!

Here’s a song from me to you.

All My Single People

Last Sunday was Valentine’s Day. The night before I was with some friends, I imbibed some alcohol, I complained about boys. I came home and I wrote the following Facebook status: “I’m a woman. I’m single. I love it. Deal with it.”

I woke up the next morning, looked at said status and initially felt a twinge of chagrin. Oh, no, I thought to myself, how embarrassing and desperate and– Then I stopped. Because you know what, it’s true.

I do love being single. It’s something I haven’t had a lot of experience with. I made an attempt from the year 2014-2015. I tried to be single for the duration, and while I counted it as a win at the time, I’m gonna go ahead and say, this was not the case. Whether or not I specifically called it “dating”, I was involved with people during that year. Welcome to being a millennial. No one is going to say what anything is, and everyone is going to be pretty upset about a lot of nothing.

Anyway, the point is, I really like being single. It gives me space to do and be a person all on my own. Which is an amazing and life-affirming thing. I get to think about what I want to think about. Whether that’s suddenly getting very into whale noises or obsessing over Adam Driver. I get to go down that rabbit hole without worrying about who I am or am not neglecting. I have room to stretch my weird little mind. And I’d like to take said space to talk about relationships and not-relationships.

Being in a relationship is not winning. Because interacting with other human beings is not a game. If you’re “playing” to “win” and are frustrated because following “the rules” isn’t getting you anywhere… I maybe found your problem.

No one is an object to be achieved. As many movies as exist that cast (primarily) women as the trophy, women are in fact people with lives of our own and no time to sit around judging you on your strengths and weaknesses and deciding whether to place you in an imaginary sexist creation called “the friend zone” or not. That doesn’t exist. If someone says they want to be friends it’s because they don’t want a relationship with you, for any number of reasons. They don’t owe you anything. Move on.

Being single isn’t losing. There’s no timeline for when you should have dated someone by or married someone by or whatever else you’re aiming for. There are only messy people living out their messy lives and hopefully doing their best to love and respect the people around them. There shouldn’t be pressure to be in a relationship (or for that matter pressure to not be in a relationship). And, yes, rejection is frustrating, but it isn’t the end.

Sometimes I’ve been asked how or why I’ve been in “so many” relationships. And honestly it’s because I make a fool of myself over and over again until something sticks. That’s it. That’s the secret. There are no rules I follow, nothing particularly intriguing about me. I just ask people questions, fall for them, ask them out and get turned down. Simple as that. Occasionally some weirdo says yes.

Be honest with people. Be vulnerable with people. Be yourself with people. Don’t let anything force you to be what you don’t want to be. And enjoy the precious time you get to spend with yourself. You are truly amazing all on your lonesome, just as you’re truly amazing in context with others.

Me? I’m a woman. I’m single. I love it. Deal with it.

Meh 2016 001.JPG

 

This I Believe Revisited

In my freshman year of high school, my humanities teacher, one of the coolest people I know, asked us all to write a “This I Believe” statement a la the NPR segment. I wrote then about feeding our cat Kitty/Jake (probably should write a blogpost bout that too someday). I’d like to write now about the Force.

I believe in the Force. Not in midochlorians. Not in telekinetic powers. Not in Darth Binx. I do think lightsabers would be better than guns.

What I believe in is a connection between all things in the universe. In a physical and in a spiritual sense. We are all made from electrons spinning and whirling around somewhere (forgive my hazy physics…), and on a particle level I am not entirely sure where I end and the rest of the world begins. In that sense, I am in some way connected to the farthest reaches of the universe. This provides me comfort sometimes when I’m missing people, I know that we are still in contact whatever the distance.

But more than a physical conception of this universal connection, there is my simple belief in it. From my childhood religious days, I learned that beliefs are not based on rationalizations. They come instead from that secret locked door just behind your heart. And while I’ve moved away from many of the teachings of those early years, I still believe in belief.

I believe that we are connected, that every action pulls us in some direction, that the words we speak, the way we treat others, it impacts us all. Which is why we must be kind. Which is why we must be better than what we believe we can be. Not only for the people we are impacting in the present, but for all the consequences that ripple from it. Out to the furthest edges of the galaxy.

This I believe.

An Open Letter to Whoever Needs It

My life has sucked recently. It’s partially my fault as these things always are and partially just the universe being an asshole as it always is.

Life can be really, really bitterly unfair.

So this is a letter to whoever needs it. To everyone who I can’t talk to in person right now for whatever reason. Whether because you’re far away. Or because you’re angry at me. Or because I don’t know what’s going on in your life. Or because we’ve drifted apart as people do. This is for you. And also just a little bit a lot for me.

Sometimes the hardest and best thing you can do in a day is to get out of bed. It hurts like a motherfucker. There’s no point to it. Nothing good will come of it. Nothing has changed in the world. People you love are still dying, people are still being killed violently, people are being hurt and abandoned and disappointed and wronged all over. And you are getting out of bed. And you are so strong because of it.

Sometimes going for a whole ten minutes without crying is a victory. Sometimes going for a whole minute is also a victory. Sometimes crying is a victory itself, because you still feel. After all this shit, you still feel something. That is amazing. You are amazing.

You are allowed to be angry. For as long as you need. At everything. When my friend was sexually assaulted I called my sister screaming more times than I can count. Things completely unrelated to it would piss me off: innocuous things people said in class, throwaway lines in movies, just walking on the sidewalk sometimes. And I’d be furious for hours. Anger is a powerful emotion that we feel when the world is unjust. And the world is unjust so much of the time. Anger can lead us to do great things.

But in the long run anger can hurt you if it isn’t channeled. It can eat away at your insides like a corrosive acid. Find something to do with your anger. I write. Sometimes just strings of profanity. Sometimes things that don’t make sense. But then the anger is doing something instead of clawing at my throat.

Breathe. Just breathe. Wherever you are. Whatever you are doing. Remember to breathe. You are forgiven and you can forgive. There is nothing you have to do or be. You already are everything wonderful by being yourself. There is strength and peace inside you. Even when you hate yourself and everyone around you for allowing so much pain in the world, for continuing to exist, for failing you, for being human. There is still peace. There is still forgiveness. There is still light.

I believe this for you. I believe this for myself.

“When you feel like no one loves you and the world seems nothing but against you, I wanna feel like someone you can talk to. The two of us there’s nothing we can’t get through.”

I hope that you can feel me sending all the encouragement and peace and strength I have. Even if we haven’t spoken in years. Even if we spoke this morning. You are loved. You are so incredibly loved.

 

Seeking Position: Becoming a Small Flightless Bird

Laura A. Birdmiller
Bird bird bird bird, #14
Fitchbird, WI 53713

Email:kiwi@kiwi.com

Overview:
• Passionate team-bird, bird-oriented and willing to bird hard.
• Slow bird, unable to fly.
• Small and almost round.
• Committed to eating seeds and not flying.

Education:
August 2011- June 2015 Carleton Birdege
Northbird, MN
GPA: 6 lbs of seed, Honors in Flightlessness

August 2007- June 2011 The Culver Abirdemies
Culbird, IN
GPA: 7 lbs of seed, Honors in Poor Ability to Escape Predators

Prior Experience:

June 2010- August 2010 Bookstore Kakapo, Culver Academies

Found a new island to inhabit! No predators! This is so exciting! I will grow fat and happy here!

August 2012- June 2015 Resident Bird, Carleton College

Shortened bones and gained weight in order to conserve unnecessary energy wasted on flight. Developed a co-dependence on a rare plant in order to mate. This will turn out well!

June- November 2015 Quality Abirdance, Ep-bird

Was unable to deal with the arrival of mammalian predators and competitors. Habitat quickly destroyed. Now hiding on small off-shore islands.

Additional Skills
• Proficient in being small, falling out of trees, and attempting to trample my foes.
• Studied being a bird for seven years including time in a tree.
• Avid and passionate bird both abroad and in the United States.
• Experience as a cute adorable bird with no ability to protect myself from change.

Real-Life Laura Hacks

Hey Gang!

What another post??? Already??? Slow down, crazy! Slow down!

Well, I’ve been kind of a bummer lately. But luckily I have some really great family members and friends (shout-outs to Saber, Morgan, Dimitri, and the Maber) who have been reminding me of all the good stuff as well. So I wanted to return the favor by displaying some of the “cool” things that have been going on in my life.

This is specially dedicated to Sarah A. “Muscles” Milstein because her Netflix isn’t working and she said Facebook is boring. This one’s for you, bby grill!!!

Laura Hack #1

Congratulations! Your roommate brought you quarters because she is an angel (#classiccricket) and didn’t want to be living with someone who smells like 2014. You now have clean laundry! But oh no! Some of it’s a little damp and you have no towel rack!

Bike Rack

Bike Rack

Have no fear, your handy dandy bike-drying-rack is here! Aka … the Bike Rack! (Also that’s my new bike. Her name is Christmas and I love her.) Simply drape clothing articles festively across lovely metal frame and wait! (What do you mean metal rusts? I don’t know what you’re talking about! I’m a biology major!)

Laura Hack #2

Mash-up Playlists

Okay, this is kind of one that I already bragged about, but I’m too excited. Tired of having to switch between your favorite pop hits and the classics you were raised on? Simple! Combine the two into one unbelievable playlist! Examples: JT Play (Justin Timberlake meets James Taylor… the results are guaranteed to please!), Simon&Garfunkel&Beyonce (all hail the only living girl in New York, she woke up homeward bound), and Lana del Ray Charles (they talk about mostly the same things…).

Laura Hack #3

Stuffed Animals as Friends

Tired of making awkward social advances at work? Traveling in the evenings just too exhausting??? How about trying Stuffed Animals instead of Friends!! Pros: cost effective, adorable, everyone laughs at your puns, less criticism, more cuddling. Cons: likelihood of actually making friends following this endeavor… 0.

My main man

Unbearably cute.

Laura Hack #4

Shower Snax

I’ve talked about this one before, but never in public. Imagine with me people. It’s the morning. You’re tired and groggy. You glance at your alarm clock and goodness look at the time! There’s no way you’ll have time for both a shower and breakfast!

But wait! Shower Snax to the rescue! Simply pop into the shower, ingest the snax and you’re on your way.

My test groups have been asking nosy questions about the logistics. “What do you mean?” they ask. “What do you mean, ‘what do I mean?’?” I respond. “Wouldn’t it get soggy?” they ask. “Not if it’s soup!” I say. “Or hot chocolate! Or oatmeal!” “That’s gross,” they say. Then they walk away.

See Laura Hack #3

Possible Shower Snax.

Possible Shower Snax.

Finally Laura Hack #5

Call your family and friends.

I forget from time to time, because I’m weird and spend way too much in my head, but there are people out there who love me. And I hope and believe people out there who love you, too. Yeah, it’s now a bit awkward because we’ve been trained to spend the majority of our lives stuck behind screens, but call the people who are important to you. I doubt you’ll look back years from now and wish you’d spent less time connecting with the people you love.

Cheers!