Since 1855, Penn State has clawed its way from a sleepy agricultural school in the middle of Pennsylvania cow pastures to a well-respected institute of higher education and football powerhouse …  in the middle of Pennsylvania cow pastures. From bewildered freshman to the scholars of Dickinson School of Law and other post-graduate programs, nearly 100,000 students proudly wear the blue and white each year. We walk the hallways of campuses from Erie to Abington, Altoona to University Park, standing united as Nittany Lions no matter where our attendance markers lie. And with diplomas in hand, we disperse across the country and around the world with “WE ARE…” etched into our hearts, souls and business card holders.

And in times such as these, when our beloved PSU fills headlines for failing our Alma Mater — “May no act of ours bring shame/To one heart that loves thy name” — we are the ones entrusted with the duties of defending her honor.

At Penn State, we are more than figureheads and football. We are more than today’s trials and tribulations. We are more than the deplorable and depraved actions of a few. We are an alumni of men and women — more than 500,000 strong — coupled with thousands of students who love this university more than words can adequately explain and we are the ones who will stand by her as she overcomes this, because she will. The road ahead will not be easy. The bumps will be numerous. But the time has come for us Penn Staters to do what we do best — STAND TOGETHER and yell with all our power and might “WE ARE…” and truly prove what it means to be “PENN STATE!” in the shadow of so much disaster.

Our Nittany Lion Nation will not let this define us because, despite what some may be quick to assume, this is not who we are. We are students, parents and grandparents. We’re doctors and lawyers, journalists and accountants, teachers, football players and everything in between. We are not and will never be a reflection of these incidents and behaviors, nor are they a reflection of the strong tradition annually emanating from our University with each individual who turns his or her tassel.

Our hearts may ache, our foundation may be rocked, but PSU will overcome. Just wait and see.

Fight On State.

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Two years ago — and one day* — a little boy was born 600 miles away from me. Just after 5 p.m. on November 4, 2009, Jaidyn Christopher Skutnick arrived and I was officially an aunt. A few months later, I was honored to also become his godmother. I have been spoiling him as best I can since that first moment.

This weekend, I traveled those 600 miles back to my hometown of Scranton, Pa. to celebrate his second birthday and seeing how much he has grown is truly remarkable. From little sentences to the way he calls me “Mimi” and seems to already know SOOOO much for a mere 731 days on this planet, I adore each minute in his presence. Crazy  how one tiny boy can change so much.

Last year, he dove into his cake and I never shared my favorite photo. Today is a perfect opportunity to do so.

Happy 2nd Birthday to the amazing nephew I call “Baby J” and “J Monster.” Cannot wait to celebrate many, many more with you. Always remember your Aunt Mimi loves you very much!!

* Because I’m perpetually one day behind with NaBloPoMo…

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Time is of the essence today* after …

• working my lovely 8-5
• conducting some ridiculous qualitative research at the UNC-Charlotte library
• a $33 trip to CVS (who spends $33 at CVS? I mean, really…?)
• a WalMart stop thanks to Sophie — my pup — ripping my bed sheets

… and finally arriving home somewhere around 9:30 p.m. to a Lean Cuisine feast, laundry, bill-paying and packing before taking off in two hours (at 4 a.m.) for a weekend in Scranton. So, please do forgive this oh-so-slight cop-out of a NaBloPoMo posting this evening.

However, with that said, Ms. Jenna Marbles is worth sharing.

If you’ve been hiding under a rock for several months now — or longer — perhaps you have yet to encounter the awesomeness that is this YouTube sensation. Posting a new video each Wednesday, Jenna covers a variety of topics, from Gaga and to what dudes look at on the internet, with humor and a goofy personality that keeps viewers coming back for more. The chick has nearly 1.5 million subscribers — yep, you read that correctly — on YouTube for a reason, and you haven’t glanced her direction yet, now is your opportunity.

Posted below is one of my favorite Jenna Marbles videos**, though I must admit, choosing among her dozens of uploads was quite the task. Anywho, I suggest strolling to her page and taking a gander for yourself if you even minutely like what you see!

* Technically, it’s already Day #4 here on the East Coast, but if you read NaBloPoMo #2, you already know I’m late for everything so this 2 a.m. posting shouldn’t be terribly surprising.
** This is one of her more recent videos — about a month old. Pretty sure it also won among the rest because I am a “white girl” guilty of many “club” faults Jenna mentions here. Oops?

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I run late for everything*. Work, class, appointments, plans with friends and family … you name it and I’m the chick who’s arriving anywhere from 10 to 60 minutes behind schedule, depending on which of the aforementioned functions is on my agenda. Sure, we can call it “fashionably late,” IF your definition of “fashionable” consists of wet hair and the slight disheveled appearance of someone who haphazardly dug through piles of wrinkled clothing in search of the right tank top.

My “late” habit is an issue I have unfortunately been acutely aware of for far too many years and yet ridiculously unable to improve upon despite repeated attempts. I could bore you with a laundry list of ways I’ve tried to correct the problem — a list I have typed and deleted three times now. Suffice it to say, nothing has worked or this would not be today’s “topic of choice.”

…So why is this important? It’s not. It’s irrelevant. But, on occasion, a little insight into yours truly beyond the surface babble is sometimes interesting. Do you not find it hilarious that my boyfriend has lied to me on multiple occasions about what time we are supposed to arrive at our destination in the hopes that we’ll actually arrive on time? Or that the clock in my car is purposefully set a few minutes fast? Or that I have a one-hour alarm set on my phone for every calendar event I’ve programmed in (and I use that calendar A LOT)?

Yet somehow, always late.

And after 26 years of repeated attempts to change it, I’ve succumbed to the reality that it’s simply part of who I am. My dad holds a similar reputation among his family and I recall at least a few occasions where my mother ran behind schedule — and she’s famous for wrong clocks! — so perhaps the combination of the two somehow filtered into my disastrously delayed self.

Whatever the reason, don’t invite me anywhere and expect an early arrival because it’s just not happening … no way, no how. This is your warning. And now I better post this damn this because NaBloPoMo Day #2 ended nearly 12 hours ago. Late yet again. Shocker.

* Including this specific blog posting. However, as I sped toward the midnight deadline of Day #2, my internet cut out and by 12:30 a.m., I called it quits and decided to save it for the a.m. Oh well.

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Remember that time — or seven — I triumphantly returned to my blog, dusted it off and vowed to all three lingering readers that I would finally, after months of silence, begin to post more frequently? Well, yet again, guess what didn’t happen?

So here I am, embarking upon another attempt as NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month) begins — and of course, I’m a day late to the party. Suppose I wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t already a bit behind though… But I’m a little glad to notice I wasn’t the only one (ahem, TOPolk) to technically miss day one, ha.

What can you expect this November? You’ll undoubtedly hear me gripe about anything and everything.. From graduate school and the chaos that has generally become my busy life to the world that surrounds me — (Can the Kardashians please disappear already!?) — and just about all that lies in between, I will probably have something to say. I’ll share happy, personal moments, including my nephew’s second birthday (this Friday!!), and nonsensical, sarcastic banter that simply must escape my brain before I burst open at the seams. Whatever comes to mind, I’ll jot it down then return to you fine folks — yes, all three of you — and divulge the good tale.

…Or, at least that’s the plan.

With any luck, committing myself to NaBloPoMo will keep me motivated and dedicated, and thus keep these little fingers swiftly moving across the keyboard ’til I remember why it was so important, once upon a time, to make time for blogging as often as possible. Somewhere between theory textbooks and a fancy new desk, I seemed to forget all of that and I’m determined to remember why — at least beyond that nagging yearning lately inside to write something, anything, anywhere. Maybe this month-long venture will quell that desire and make this a regular habit again? One can hope!

Okay, okay, enough with being sappy. Day #1 (ish) complete. Only 29 more posts to go… Eep.

What did I get myself into??

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I have been OBSESSED beyond words with The Fratellis lately, thanks to the wonders of Pandora. Their sound is amazing. To be honest, I had terrible difficulty choosing which song to share because I am loving each and every one I discover. Check them out and definitely let me know what you think!

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Summer always seemed to draaaaaaaagggggg on when I was young. First it was the daycare years when I may have shared a laugh or two, but spent the majority of my moments pining for my release from that institution hellhole. Then, as I reached double-digits and into my teen years, my Smith Street residence was as far as my summertime drifted. While other kids would enjoy the sunny days in northeastern Pennsylvania, I’d spend the majority of mine laying on a couch, watching ridiculous ABC soap operas and wishing I had more friends. My June, July and August were never filled with bike riding or hours by the pool. They were spent alone — aside from the occasional hello from my brother and the annual family trip to Ocean City, Md. — and miserable.

Once the school bell rang, releasing each of us students unto the world for nearly three whole months, my seasonal gloom set in and the countdown began ’til a new year would begin. Anticipation steadily grew throughout the summer as I craved life beyond the walls of home, a life that only the classroom truly gave me. I was never the cool kid, and I’m unbelievably okay with that. I was the nerd who eagerly looked forward to notebooks and pens, textbooks and opportunities. School was always my thing, the place that wholly filled me with the excitement I couldn’t find elsewhere in my youth.

But now, for the first time ever, that familiar feeling of joy and exhilaration thinking about Day #1 of a new semester escapes me. After a whirlwind of a summer filled with crazy adventures, amazing friends, lazy days by the pool, a significant job change, a brand new car, and so much more that I couldn’t even begin to put into words, I find myself deeply saddened at the thought of letting it all go to allow school back into my life. Though a tinge of enthusiasm is creeping in with less than an hour ’til my semester officially begins, it’s difficult not to feel overwhelmed with woe at what it means for this summer to end.

I wonder if this is how all those other kids felt year in and year out as I was elated for a new school year and they were grief-stricken at the thought of returning to cookie-cutter days, exams, homework and mediocre teachers. Back then, I could not wait for the challenges that a new year would bring and now I’m ever-so-slightly terrified. It’s amazing how much can change in a simple summer.

I would never take back one moment of anticipation for school in my younger days. But I definitely wish some of the delight these last few months provided could have had their place back then as well, just as I’d love for that eagerness to again emerge as the clock winds down. I’ve been waiting for it to arrive, quite impatiently, but it seems like I’ll be diving in head first this semester without that familiar feeling I once knew so well.

Is this another symptom of growing up? Ah, perhaps. Maybe just a girl finally discovering what it’s like to truly reap the benefits of summertime. Whatever it is, I suppose I have no choice but to close one chapter and move to the next. Grad School Year #2, here I come.

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A dozen three-day weekends, afternoons by the pool, Friday nights dancing in Charlotte, whitewater rapid adventures — to say this has been one hell of a summer would be an understatement. This 311 song has been rockin’ the local radio station I adore for a good while now and I as though it perfectly encompasses summer 2011 somehow. Check it out!

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It’s been one hell of a day — to say the very least — and the number of thoughts swirling through my mind are innumerable at this point. After a few failed attempts to create a cohesive posting with a single focal point, I swiftly realized that bullet points were the way to go this evening…

• Google+ debuted and, like any good social media addict, I jumped at my opportunity to join this burgeoning outlet back in June. Thus far, I’ve found myself less than impressed. Is it because I have grown quite accustomed to utilizing Facebook and Twitter for my networking needs? Is it because Google+ truly doesn’t offer anything glaringly unique that the other services cannot also provide? Is it because those who I have added to my “circles” are also my “friends” and “followers” — and really, one can only bother people so much across the planes of the Internet? I keep attempting to use Google+, but routinely forget it even exists… I’ll keep trying, without doubt, but I’m just not sure it’s for me despite loving most everything else — from the Android phone to email, calendar, chat, etc. — that Google has created.
• Today, for the first time since graduating college in 2007, I can financially stand on my own two feet with only one job. It’s kind of amazing and certainly deserves a longer blog post. However, it was necessary to note now as well. Stay tuned for more musings on this new development.
• Only 22 days until another semester of graduate school kicks into gear. Yet another topic that deserves more detail, but it’s time to officially begin the dreadful countdown.
• The Pizza Hut delivery man forgot our breadsticks tonight. The boyfriend asked him to return to our apartment with them. We are those people.
• I have a tan. That seems like a fairly random comment, I know, but I am not the girl who tans… I’m the girl whose skin turns tomato red within moments of moving under the sun’s rays. Yet this summer, I’ve had a bit more free time, much of which has been lazily wisely used toward acquiring more freckles as I lounge by the pool graciously provided by my apartment complex. And somehow, my skin has a strange tan tint to it this season. For anyone who knows me well, this new appearance is a drastic change from my otherwise Casper-like hue. I may miss it once autumn returns and bikini days are no more. After all, “If you can’t tone it, tan it” and I surely haven’t been toning anything…
• Anyone have a few thoughts about the Nissan Juke? #vaguebulletpoint
• I’ve grown to adore hashtags. Considering the last bullet point, I wanted to note that. I may occasionally use them in text messages as well. Maybe. It’s possible. I’ll never tell.
• I don’t care about Shark Week. I also cannot fathom why others become so incredibly enthralled by it. The Internet provides you with a vast array of information about sharks whenever you damn well please. Why does this one single week of televised programming cause such a stir? I’m annually baffled.

More ideas are floating around this skull of mine, but you’ve probably already quit reading anyway. As for me? Well, my new job status means a 5:30 a.m. wake-up call… Eep! ‘Til next time!

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It was the summer after ninth grade and I just had my heart broken for the very first time. In the hopes of seeing my frown turned upside-down, a friend made me a mix-CD — that’s right, a mix-CD — which included this tune by Reel Big Fish. Sure, I’d heard of the band before*, but I wasn’t exactly a fan. This song from that one crazy post-breakup disc changed it all.

Today, with high hopes that I’ll find a friend willing to attend the band’s show with me in Charlotte next week, I have RBF on the brain big time and decided that sharing them with you fine folks was an absolute must. And because this is the tune that truly made me love these sort-of-punk, ska fellas, “Beer” was the one to post (though I encourage you to check out the rest of their tunes … definitely worth perusing!).

* For about two days, I definitely confused Reel Big Fish with the Mighty Mighty Bosstones in a reference previously inserted here, despite having ZERO Bosstones songs on my iPod and being completely unable to name even one. No idea why I did that. Major oops!

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