
Hey guys, My name’s Erica and I’m a sophomore here at UAlbany.
To be honest with you, I am not even sure anyone will ever even see this (I mean really how many people do you know would choose some basic nineteen year old girl’s blog over that lit twitter fight?) Well, for those of you who do, what’s good? Oh and before I even get into whatever spiel this ends up being, I’d like to clarify my less than scholarly descriptor words back there. More often than not, the terms “basic” and “girl” strung so closely together paint a picture of hashtags and Starbucks — or #Starbs, if you will (SO insta worthy btw). Now don’t get me wrong I’m as much a fan of social media, and anything that rivals my now increasingly irritating job (@Dunkin) as the next person. But, the Erica everyone else has come to know, and inevitably love (What can I say? I’m great!), you too will soon realize, is anything but a basic girl. You see, here, “basic” refers to my past. I grew up in your traditional white-picket-fence realm of suburbia, raised by traditional parents in a traditional family of five. But really, even as my own fingertips graze this keyboard with the intent of sincerity, I know that “traditional” is just a frilled way of saying average.
Again, please don’t get me wrong, I appreciate this upbringing. The close-knitted community blessed me with more than I could probably ever fathom. It saved my family in a time of tragedy, a story, I will save for another day. I would not change my years in that small Connecticut town I call home for anything .
It all started just over a year ago: I was a first semester freshman, performing averagely in my, mostly gen-ed classes. Apparently getting accustomed to the academic shift between high school and college did not come nearly as naturally as the social one had. Personally, I blame frat houses. I mean they’re just so clean and tame and it’s almost like heels were tailored specifically for those rickety spiral staircases! I’m sorry I literally just cannot help but laugh at that one. But I could not, solely, blame the staircases for the damage my body had, undeniably, absorbed. I went from the palest white to black and blue REAL QUICK. Continue reading “Around the World and Into Myself” →