Saturday, October 31, 2015

Halloween: Jessica Day

 glasses: Coach; cardigan: Juicy Couture; blouse: TJ Maxx;
skirt: Target; tights: Kohl's; shoes: Guess

Happy Halloween! Halloween is probably my favorite holiday, because I love things that are gently creepy and the opportunity to dress up. Unfortunately, because I'm too old to trick-or-treat and too much of a homebody to party, I don't really get to wear costumes or anything. *sigh* At least this blog grants me the excuse to dress up and take a few photos.

This year I decided to dress up as Jessica Day from New Girl. I'm quite pleased with how close I got the hair, although my head kind of blends in with the bush behind me so it's hard to see. When thinking of a costume idea, my instinct was to blacken my eyes and wear one of my white vintage-looking dresses, but I tried to force myself to be a bit more thoughtful. Hope I'm not disgusting any New Girl fans out there.

In an unrelated note: Omigod so busy. Midterms, papers, taking care of myself--yikes. I've been falling way behind in terms of blogging, but sacrifices must be made if I want to do well in school. I've reached the point where my Bloglovin' feed has so many unread posts that I'm afraid to look at it. Does anyone else get that? I get that feeling with Twitter a lot, too. It's crazy how social media puts this weird pressure on us, but I think that's a conversation for another day.

Hope everyone has a safe and fun Halloween! And I'll hopefully be more diligent with blogging after my midterm on Tuesday.

<Lucy Cartin

I based my costume/outfit loosely on this photo.
P.S. I'm thinking about it, and I'm not sure how much of a "costume" this is because I'm pretty sure I've worn this outfit to school before. Oops.

Friday, October 23, 2015

Storytelling: "Chaos at 1:30am"

totally random photo. kind of cool to look at, though
I've always wanted to be a great storyteller. And to an extent, I think I am. I did speech for four years in high school, and a dominant element of my primary event was storytelling. In that sense, I was quite good at storytelling--verbally articulating something that's already been written for me. I guess that means my talent is limited to recounting the stories of others--with heavy preparation. *sigh* So I'm not really much of a raconteur... The problem I have with telling my own stories is that I get too wordy--both verbally and in writing.

Something kind of funny happened in my room last night, so I want to challenge myself to tell that story. Hope it goes well. Hope you enjoy.

In my room live a total of six girls, and in my room I'm the resident old person: I mostly hang out in the room, I almost never go out at night, and I'm pretty consistently in bed by about midnight.

Yesterday was Thursday, which makes last night "Thirsty Thursday"--a party night, for those who don't know. This means that three of my roommates, who party every week, left around 11 p.m. for the frat houses. Meanwhile, I was getting ready for bed. Typical Thursday night.

I settle in under my poofy comforter. The last time I see before I fall asleep is 11:45.

I'm in this unconscious state of black stillness when I hear my roommates talking in serious tones about some guy. They usually wake me up a bit when they come back from whatever parties they were at, so, as usual, I try to fall back into my slumber. A minute or so later, I'm in this half-conscious state when I hear my roommates talking--apparently one of them is crying. I start wondering if I should get up and see what's wrong. As I consider walking into our living room to find out what's going on, I look over at my alarm clock. It's 1:30.

Okay, here's where the story complicates because I need to explain the brain of half-asleep Kuo.

For some reason, the amount of 1's in the time threw me off, so I thought I'd gone to bed at 1:45. You can imagine that I was pretty mixed up. Confused about my roommate's drama and wondering how I'd managed to go back in time, I wander into my living room--hoping  my roommates can provide clarification. One of the roommates that went to party was in the bathroom, one hadn't come home yet, and one was crying--the remaining two roommates (this brings us to a total of five roommates, six including me) were comforting her.

There were two questions on my mind: (1) Why is she crying? and, more importantly, (2) What time did I actually go to bed?

(1) Something small happened with some guy, but (as I found out this morning) in her drunken state, she vastly overreacted because the roommate who was in the bathroom told her it was a big deal in her drunken state. Hilarious. Drunk people are silly. Ha ha ha.

(2) I went to bed at 11:45, not 1:45. So I didn't time travel. Poo.

I left the living room with a "There are cookies in the drawer if you want them." (which my roommates found hilarious) and went back to sleep.

All the while, one of the roommates who had been in the living room was Skyping someone about their math midterm, so this random guy who just wanted to study for his test, was forced to witness my roommates and I as we fell subject to self-imposed mental and emotional trauma.

This morning, as we recounted what happened, we couldn't help but laugh at how absolutely stupid the whole thing was--especially because we all took everything so seriously. Like literally, my roommate was sobbing, and I was ridiculously confused.

Oy. We're a mess, but I really love living with all of them.

<Lucy Cartin

Friday, October 16, 2015

Pop and Tulle

t-shirt: original by me; skirt: eBay; shoes: Converse

What have we here? I finally worked up the courage to ask one of my suite mates to help me take photos. This is just the wall outside my front door, but the lighting is pretty dramatic! I'll eventually get around to shooting at some of the more picturesque locations on campus--promise!

I'll admit that I haven't been doing my best with outfits lately. It's just been so hot here, and with all the walking I do, I mainly dress to minimize sweating. But the weather has been slightly cooler these past two days--it even sprinkled for ten minutes this morning! *gasp*

My mint green tulle skirt always makes me feel a bit whimsical, so I played on that with my bright pink Converse. To ground the look, though, I employed the subtle yet sharp black accents from the sketch on my tee and the laces on my sneakers.

I've been experiencing social anxiety lately. Like everyone else, I've had it before, but luckily it only came in small increments. As of recent, all these small increments have been adding up and are starting to weigh me down. I'm the kind of person who tends to dwell on my awkward encounters--like for a very long time. In the fifth grade, I had invitations to give to seven of my friends for a little Christmas party I was hosting. One of them was absent, so I had one left over. My friend Brendan, who sat next to me in class, asked me what it was, and I told him it was an extra invitation. Then I randomly said "Do you want it?" (because I let all kinds of random crap flow out of my mouth), and right as he said "Yeah, sure!" I said "Just kidding." I felt so bad. I STILL DO. Brendan, I'm so sorry. According to Facebook, you seem to be doing pretty well, though. So that's good!

I digress. Point is, I don't really let things go.

Hence, every time I think I do something awkward, this pressure pushes down on my stomach. 

Waving at that guy I sat next to in lecture yesterday--oh.
Walking up to that girl I talked to outside of class--ouch.
Introducing myself to some guy I've made eye contact with a few times--ugh why.

I've been meeting a lot of people and kinda sorta trying to make friends. IT MAKES ME NERVOUS. It's one thing for me to be charming around new people. I can comfortably carry a conversation with people I just met. I can't however gauge how people feel about me. Does he want to be friends with me? Is she just talking to me because no one else is here? Am I annoying her? Honestly, I assume everyone hates me--just to be safe.

I speculate that the primary reason I struggle to make friends is because I'm afraid of making the effort. I'm nervous that people will find me pathetic because I'm trying to become their friend even though they think I'm annoying. Essentially, I fear a lack of mutual feelings.

This keeps me from making new friends and developing relationships with the friends I already have. I rely on other people to make the first move; reciprocating what's given to me is easy. The difficult part is taking the first step and putting in that effort. I know I can't live in fear, that I need to be more confident in myself blah blah blah. IT'S JUST SO STRESSFUL.

I really don't have anything profound or conclusive to say--apologies. I just needed to let this out. My blog has become more of a "what's on my mind" type of place whereas before my posts were planned and thoughtful, but I think that's okay. I say as long as it's genuine, it's a good blog.

Enjoy your weekend!

<Lucy Cartin

Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Politically Correct

Sorry no outfit photo again. I just can't bring myself to post those mirror selfies. I'll take some good ones soon!
Wikipedia definition: exhibiting political correctness; unoffensive

Merriam Webster definition: conforming to a belief that language and practices which could offend political sensibilities (as in matters of sex or race) should be eliminated

Urban Dictionary definition: a way that we speak in America so we don't offend whining pussies

People seem ridiculously easy to offend these days. I mean, we constantly walk on eggshells to keep people's feelings from getting hurt. Obviously it's important to be respectful and considerate of others, but are people just being too sensitive?

I make it very clear here that I watch a ton of YouTube. Naturally, with all the time I spend on YouTube, I spent a decent amount of time glancing at comments. I've reached the point where I can predict when there's going to be a shit storm in the comments. Sometimes I even play this game where I look out for things that I think other people will find offensive and then go down to the comment section to check if I'm right. It's fun. I highly recommend it.

To put it simply, there's no way to please everyone. Anything and everything you say contains the potential to offend someone. The best we can do is be conscious, be intelligent, and be respectful. And if people still get their panties in a bunch, then that's their problem.

Happy Tuesday! It's 90 degrees here, and I don't have air conditioning in the dorms, so I'm sweating enough to end the drought. How are you doing?

<Lucy Cartin

Tuesday, October 6, 2015


totally unrelated photo of my dog who I miss dearly
I've always been extremely aware of myself. I'd actually say my awareness verged on paranoia. Part of me wants to live loudly and proudly, sure, but another part of me really fears upsetting other people.

My parents are the kind of people who, when we're in public, never fail to pass judgement on people who are too loud, too weird, too... anything. And because I can be a bit of a people pleaser, I'm careful not to be "too anything". It's probably not the best way to live my life, but I try my best to avoid annoying people. The morality is a bit unclear because there's this slightly blurry balance between being afraid of other people's judgement and being considerate. Either way, I do it.

Living with a bunch of new people in the dorms has heightened my sense of awareness. There's a part of my brain that constantly wonders if I'm annoying my roommates with how loudly I type, my weird toothbrush gagging (I gag/choke a little when I brush my teeth. I don't really want to elaborate anymore...), my burping, my need to sneeze and blow my nose in the morning (endlessly), the way I constantly open and close drawers in the morning while I'm getting ready--stuff that I never thought about at home, but that makes me feel a little self-conscious now.

Over the past few weeks, I've been trying to escape these incessant thoughts while still being considerate of my roommates. I attempt to be as quiet as possible when people are sleeping, but at the same time, I try to distinguish when I'm being annoying and when I'm being paranoid. I'm sure it will get easier.

Just something that was on my mind! I'm probably going to be posting on Tuesdays and Fridays now instead of Mondays and Thursdays because it's works better with my class schedule. I doubt anyone cares, but I thought I'd say it anyway.

How are you doing? Got any plans for this week? I'm absolutely aching to know. Maybe not aching, but tell me anyway.

<Lucy Cartin

Thursday, October 1, 2015

"-est" Syndrome

dress: Aqua; bag: BCBGeneration; shoes: Topshop

I've always had this obsession with being the "---est:" smartest, prettiest, fastest, best. Even if I'm absolutely incapable in a certain department, I want to be the dumbest or the ugliest or the slowest. For some reason, I yearn for extremities. I am unable to accept merely existing in the middle. Something inside me desperately needs to be extraordinary--regardless of whether that's extraordinarily good or extraordinarily bad.

A considerably shallow self-analysis indicates that this stems (like many things) from my fear of conformity. Trends and the mainstream kind of freak me out because I'm afraid of individuals in society transforming into a single, homogeneous unit. All atoms of the same element. (Sorry, my chem homework is lingering in the back of my mind.) When everyone is the same, it's easier for the government to manipulate and exploit us until we're nothing but pawns in THE MAN'S game of chess. Yes, my fear is a little conspiracy theory, but it's legitimate. It actually originated from a lot of the dystopian novels I read in high school--especially The Handmaid's Tale, which is actually one of my favorite novels.
Long story short, I feel the need to stand out. When I shop, I consciously avoid a lot of trends (though, not all of them) because I don't want to look like every other girl my age. In class, my hand is constantly raised--as if I'm in the middle of the ocean, waving my hand in the air to grab the attention of some rescuer (I'm reading Homer's Odyssey right now as well).
Universities are giant places--larger than high schools by far. I already know it's going to be a major challenge to stand out here, and that really stresses me out. Part of me wants to teach myself to just be part of the crowd simply because it's the easier decision.

But let's be honest, easy is boring.

So here's to a challenge.

<Lucy Cartin

P.S. My shoes are this really pretty mint blue, not white. Sucks that the color didn't really come through in the photos.