Making eye contact with hipsters-or-my first day of second semester

“Amanda…Amanda…It’s 7:15..”

“(yawns) What? Oh, no.”

“I just thought you should know.”

“Why are you up so early, Rachel? You don’t have class until nine.”

“I didn’t sleep very well, so I got up.”

“Oh…”

The appropriate response would have been “I’m sorry to hear that,” or even, “I have some NyQuil if you need it next time,” but in my groggy, sleepy-eyed state, the only response I could come up with was an unsympathetic “oh.”

                So began my first day of second semester.

I happened to wake up with both bed head and splotchy skin, a veritable perfect storm of inconvenience at 7:16 AM. My friend Aude walked in the bathroom, cheerfully holding a toothbrush and wishing me a good morning. I responded with a caveman-like grunt and began unpacking my arsenal of cosmetics and hair care supplies from my bag.

Leaving at 7:40, I had just enough time to run to the dining hall, grab a pecan roll, glass of soymilk and coffee to go, and run to class.

Just so y’all know, this was my first science class ever in college, because I’m really well-rounded. I had never before had to navigate Noyce’s myriad hallways that, interestingly enough, all look the same.

Once I made it to class (one minute early, no less!) I realized that I stuck out like…well… me in a science class. Harsh white florescent lighting made me squint, and as I sat down in the front row (thought I’d get a head start on overachieving), I realized that I clearly did not come across as hardcore. My Disney Princess folder shouted that loud and clear, if my unabashedly fashion-conscious outfit and styled hair didn’t.

My professor, who seems like a stand-up guy, asked us all to introduce ourselves, and so we went around the large classroom, sleepy people giving sleepy answers to basic get-to-know-you questions. As I listened intently to each and every response and stored it in my memory in alphabetized memory file cabinets, I also looked around at my classmates. One in particular caught my eye—a lanky, bored-looking hipster with dark eyebrows. He seemed the brooding, Byronic hero type. Excellent.

He seemed particularly averse to making eye contact, so I was about to give up, however, fate stepped in. He looked my way for half a second!

And then he saw the Disney Princess folder. He gave me a look that said, “Are you serious?” I gave him a look that said, “Apparently.”

After that character-building failure, class ended, and I escaped.

My next class was a bit livelier, probably due to people having had more sleep or caffeine, but probably the caffeine. I walked in the classroom, the tiny, tiny classroom. I don’t think there is a smaller classroom in all of ARH. There were only about 13 people in the pint-sized room, which made the whole thing feel like a dollhouse…because I know what being inside dollhouses feels like. There was the girl who loves Harry Potter (with whom I discussed the pro’s and con’s of each House at Hogwarts), and a Michael Cera lookalike. Interesting. So my second class is in a dollhouse with a Hogwarts transfer student and Michael Cera.

I think one can tell an awful lot about people from how they act on the first day of class. We had a good array of people in my second class: the overachieving people who sound like thesauri when they speak, the quiet people, the token potentially-blazed person, and then the people who, like overexcited golden retrievers, try to befriend everyone sitting around them by making self deprecating jokes involving getting lost in Noyce—like me.

My first impression probably gave away my people-pleasing nature, which is fine. I think people don’t understand that when they try too hard to sound like mini-professors, it comes off as pretentious, and hints that they are rather insecure people. And if you’re the token blazed kid, then that means you’re a little too comfortable with your self-image. There’s such a thing as a happy medium, children.

All in all, my first day of classes reminded me of my younger days, when I laid out my clothes the night before, labeled my notebooks, and went to bed early. Little did I know that my night-before-school ritual was a futile effort to control what would be, as always, an unpredictable day. Apparently, not much has changed since then—not even my choice of folders.

My Type-A Bubble Bath

My mom has been insistent that I take a bubble bath since I’ve been home. I was reluctant to do so, because I didn’t want to get used to it and then go back to college, where I have zero bath access.

But I relented. Mama drew a bath chock full of Lush bath products, lit candles, and created a very nice little experience for me. I climbed in, and was immediately shocked at how hot the water was, which was shocking in itself because in showers, I’m a crank-it-up-to-the-hottest-temperature-possible kind of girl.

My first impression was that it would be a mind-over-matter sort of thing, in order to get used to the heat. Submerged in the water, I wondered if the water was poaching me, and if it was possible to cook a human in bathwater. I resolved that this WASN’T the case, because plenty of people go to hot springs and have hot tubs in which they soak themselves all the time for medicinal purposes.

Medicinal purposes! Hallelujah! So I WOULDN’T be poached in bathwater. Excellent.

I continued to sit there. I considered reading my book, but didn’t want to get it wet, because it was a good book. So I tried to relax.

Now, at times I can be very relaxed. I am good at being inert.

But the bath is an entirely different matter. It made me restless. Instead of relaxing with my eyes closed, I played with the bubbles. I made a bubble bra. Then I made bubble snowmen floating on bubble clouds. Then I pretended to be a vengeful deity and smashed the bubble snow people. One survived my killing spree, but he was crippled. Then I smote him too. By the way, is the past tense of the verb “to smite” “smote” or “smitten”? Because that bubble snowperson was certainly not smitten with me when he was on the receiving end of my wrath.

Then it occurred to me: What the hell am I doing? This is a bath! I should be relaxing!

In my defense, I am a hardcore Pitta, which is a physical “type” (called a “Dosha”) of sorts in Ayurvedic medicine, an Indian medicinal tradition dating back 5,000 years. Pittas tend to be type-A, competitive, restless energizer bunnies. This bath, when I considered it, was a challenge for me to overcome. (for more info on your dosha, go take the quiz at www.whatsyourdosha.com )

When I thought more about baths in general, I resolved that baths unite people across history. How did medieval peasants wash? They didn’t, except for one day in early May, after which they would get married and make babies while they weren’t totally nasty and covered in grime. How did ancient kings and queens and priests and commoners cleanse themselves? They took a bath. And there I was, living at the beginning of an unfathomable new millenium, the present form of what will be an echo in history, taking a bath.

As I turned this idea over in my mind, I used a Lush brand bath bomb (scent/flavor/what have you: “Sex Bomb”). It is pink and purple with a rose in the middle. As it fizzes and colors the bathwater pink, the flower opens and blooms. Innuendo aside, it is a great product, and just plain fun.

And then I relaxed. Yes, I finally did it. My random musings left my mind with the bathwater…

www.lushUSA.com

Some of these bath bombs from Lush look good enough to eat!

Cosmetic Safety Update

Today, I went with my mom and my sister to Whole Foods, where I browsed for paraben-free makeup. I ran into a woman who was doing the same thing–restocking her cosmetics with safety in mind. She told me that the website www.cosmeticsdatabase.com is a great resource to check the toxicity level of cosmetics, so I took a look. All you have to do is type the name of the product into the search engine, and the website generates a 1-10 score (1 being the least hazardous, 10 the most) of the product. It’s the easiest way that I’ve found to make sure what we put onto our faces and bodies is not harming us! Check it out.

Also, in my search today, I found that Cargo PlantLove lipstick is relatively safe AND 50% off at Sephora right now. Sephora will no longer be carrying Cargo brand, so take advantage of the sale and stock up! My favorite lipstick shade, Cece (Courtney Cox’s favorite shade) is a deep merlot color. What’s more, Cargo is committed to making paraben free, eco friendly products. Even the package demonstrates this “return to the earth” mentality: It has flower seeds embedded in the biodegradable packaging. Although my lipstick scores a 5 on the 1-10 toxicity scale, compared to most Revlon lipsticks that score a 9, I’m ok with it.

I also bought a Zuzu concealer and powder (concealer in the shade C-10 and powder in D-14) at Whole Foods, where there are several safe makeup brands including Dr. Hauschka. My sister picked up two beautiful eye shadows, Absynthe (a gold-flecked moss green) and Sahara (deep shimmery copper). The Zuzu concealer has a wonderful creamy texture and the powder is not too cake-y. I highly recommend all these products! If anyone knows where you can find Cargo other than Sephora, let me know and I’ll update the post.

Disclaimer: www.cosmeticsdatabase.com doesn’t cover all brands. My former foundation, Too Faced “Magic Wand” Illuminating Foundation in Paris Light-Medium was not on the database. It’s pretty easy to determine if a cosmetic is safe or not, though, if you know the ingredients to look for. See my previous post, “Because You’re (NOT) Worth It: The Dirty Little Secret Cosmetics Companies are Hiding.” If any of you find any other good resources for safe cosmetics, let me know!

Also, the Burt’s Bees lipgloss I bought the other day (in Zesty Red) and the Alba lip balm (in Pineapple Quench) are both “low hazard” products according to the cosmetics database. But not all Burt’s Bees or Alba products are the safest, so double check the exact product. However, they are generally safe product lines compared to brands like Revlon or CoverGirl. Speaking of which, my old CG ”Clean Makeup” (Classic Ivory) scored an 8. eeeek! Not so “clean,” huh?

Because You’re (NOT) Worth It:The Dirty Little Secret Cosmetics Companies are Hiding

  

Hiding in Plain Sight- Every cosmetic I own contained either a known carcinogen or ingredient harmful to the reproductive system.

It all started with watching the documentary America the Beautiful. Expecting to see a true, though predictable portrait of America as the land of unrealistic body images and eating disorders, I found myself instead struck by the utter insanity that is the American cosmetics industry. In a nutshell: The European Union has banned 450 commonly used cosmetics ingredients because of health risks. The US has only banned six. There has GOT to be something wrong here, I thought, with a discrepancy that enormous.

   American women are not only the most body-conscious in the world, but we are also the most at-risk from harmful ingredients in cosmetics, 60% of which are directly absorbed into the bloodstream through the skin.

   I did my own investigation of the contents of my own collection of cosmetics. I had never looked at the ingredients in my makeup before, and was surprised that I actually had to look the ingredients up online for some of the items. The type was nearly invisible on some of the containers, and some descriptions were downright misleading. It should not have to take a five to ten minute internet search to find the ingredients of something I absorb into my body. 

   Looking at the ingredients, I knew, was an incomplete resource, because cosmetic companies don’t have to list ingredients considered “trade secrets,”–which leaves a gaping loophole for cosmetic companies to use cheap, harmful ingredients in their products. Nevertheless, I did very basic research, and here are some of the things I found:

   Eyeshadow: Every one of my eyeshadows (brands like Maybelline, Too Faced, and Clinique) listed Talc as the main ingredient. If Talc is inhaled or ingested at all, it is a highly harmful carcinogen, and has been directly linked to ovarian cancer.

   Foundation: My foundation, Too Faced “Magic Wand” Illuminating Foundation/Cashmere Finish (“achieve complexion perfection from one wave of a wand!”) is filled with parabens. Parabens are artificial preservatives that I found in almost every skincare product I own. They have been proven to enter the bloodstream through skin absorption, and they have been consistently linked to breast cancer. Parabens are also toxic for the reproductive system. Keep in mind, the skin absorbs 60% of what is applied to it.

   Powder: My powder (directions: smooth all over face…starting from center and blending outwards) Neutrogena Mineral Sheers in Classic Ivory also has parabens in it. Fortunately no talc, though. Mica, the main ingredient, is not absorbed onto the skin and is therefore not a carcinogen. Overall my Neutrogena minerally makeup was beginning to look less shady than others, until I found that the third ingredient, zinc stearate, was not only a carcinogen, but a carcinogen that had appeared on several citizen-filed petitions for causing medical problems as a carcinogen.

   Blush: Whoa mama! My Nars blush (shade: ”Deep Throat”) had several carcinogens, such as talc, zinc stearate, manganese, a boatload of parabens, and lanolin. Lanolin is fine on its own, but cosmetic-grade lanolin is often contaminated with carcinogenic pesticides such as DDT, dieldrin, and lindane, in addition to other neurotoxic pesticides.

   Lipstick/Balm: Clinique is the best lipstick brand, since they are unscented, and therefore contain no phthalates (carcinogens used in perfume and nail polish, among other things). However, Clinique still uses aluminum in some shades, as well as petrochemicals and sunscreens containing zinc oxide. Unfortunately, every other lipstick and lip balm I own contained parabens upon parabens upon parabens.  And we EAT lipstick and lip balm.

   Not only are most lip products chock full of parabens and harmful sunscreens, there are also copious amounts of lead in many top lipstick brands. “Lipstick is a product intended for topical use, and is only ingested incidentally and in very small quantities,” said FDA spokeswoman Stephanie Kwisnek in September. “FDA does not consider the lead levels that it found in lipsticks to be a safety concern.” The FDA blatantly ignored the simple fact that women ingest lipstick through absorption and eating. Unless it is wiped off, lipstick is ingested into the body. And yet, dangerous levels of lead are “not a concern.”

   According to the Campaign for Safe Cosmetics, the average level of lead found in the lipsticks — 1.7 parts per million — is more than 10 times higher than the standard imposed on candy.

   These carcinogens and chemicals are like ticking time bombs. They don’t necessarily have an immediate effect, but constant intake of small doses builds up in the body. I will never believe that the chemical build up from cosmetics doesn’t have a detrimental effect.

   The crazy thing is, in Europe, cosmetic ingredients are tested BEFORE consumers can get to them. Here, however, the FDA only tests cosmetic ingredients AFTER they have harmed someone. In other words, the big cosmetic companies’ ability to earn a profit is prioritized above the safety of the women they manipulate. Cosmetics are the least regulated product under the Federal Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act.  Motivated by a media-catalyzed sense of inadequacy, American women pay to have their bodies contaminated by harmful chemicals and carcinogens. The worst part is, they don’t even know it, and as far as the US government is concerned, it doesn’t matter.

   As I looked at my cosmetics strewn on the floor, I felt tricked. I also felt like my government had failed me…which it has.

   To the girls out there: Check your cosmetics for harmful ingredients, such as parabens, talc, zinc stearate, etc. In the meantime, there are plenty of options for paraben-free makeup. Don’t be fooled by brands like The Body Shop that claim to be “all-natural” or high-end brands like Chanel. Their products are just as filled with the bad stuff as cheaper drugstore  brands, like Revlon.

Some tips:

1. Wear less makeup. We need to stop the perfection obsession, anyway.

2. Use perfume oil instead of phthalate-loaded perfume, or spray perfume on clothing and not directly on the skin.

3. Go out right now and buy Burt’s Bee’s or Alba lip balms, so you can stop eating carcinogens.

Brands that are safe-ish: Urban Decay, Clinique (for unscented products free of phthalates)

Brands that are safe: Alba, Burt’s Bee’s, Zuzu, Dr. Hauschka

If anyone has any suggestions for safe cosmetic brands, I’d love to receive them and update this post!

For more information:

http://thegreenbeautyguide.com/ (updates about cosmetic safety)

http://www.safecosmetics.org/ (for lists of harmful ingredients, as well as an index of safe cosmetic brands)

 

Happy New Year and Bonne Année from L’Etudiante!

Oh, New Years… I hate to admit it, but I’m not usually a New Years kind of girl. I think it’s depressing, and I usually dont even stay up until midnight.

This year, however, will be interesting. I am going to a friend’s party, but I won’t really know the people there. So I will make sure to post about what entails this evening… I will have much fun with my “partner-in-crime” Erica getting ready and attending the party, however, I know if I was back at school, we college students would already have “celebrations” well under way! Miss you, Grinnell!

In the meantime, I thought I’d share some French New Years traditions, as it is already new years day in France! New Years in France happens to fall on the feast day of Saint Sylvester, so New Years Eve is known as La Saint Sylvestre. French people kiss under the mistletoe at midnight on New Years, not during the Christmas Season, as in the US and UK.

Bonne Année, tout le monde! Happy New Year, everyone!

My Excellent, Incorrectable Chihuahua

It is early-ish on Friday morning, and I should be writing a paper for my religion class. Ok, it’s my final paper, and I’m not really in the mood to write it yet. So I’ll write about Zuzu, my chihuahua, la chienne incorrigible.

The word “incorrigible” is French in origin- it comes from the verb “corriger” which means, “to correct.” “Incorrigible” literally means, incorrectable. Which fits my dog perfectly.

Allow me to tell the story of la petite Zuzu:

Zuzu is incredibly deceptive; a study in contradictions, really. When we got her, she was a three-month-old puppy chihuahua who never barked. She was also quite skinny at the time. After athe initial 6 months, my family and I realized that we had adopted one of nature’s anomalies: the obese, barking chihuahua (she has since lost the extra poundage). Unlike most chihuahuas, Zuzu’s ears do not stand up, she doesn’t have the usual bulbous forehead, and she has a long, aristocratic-looking nose. She is a purebred chihuahua, but a defective one. Incorrigible. And I love her.

Continuing her list of flaws, she is impossible to walk. No matter how hard my family tried to train her, she insists upon scrabbling around on the pavement and barking at passers-by. It’s embarrassing. She’s also a complete diva, and by that, I mean she refuses to get her own toys. She has created a system so that when she walks to her chihuahua-height toy basket, she barks until someone comes and picks out a toy for her. But that’s not all: The person then has to present her with a range of possible toys, from which she selects her favorite. I’m not kidding. She also hates mismatched socks, and will bark at the unsuspecting feet until a matching pair is found.

Despite the inconveniences of raising this particular chihuahua, her bad personality has some perks. Most dogs are happy-go-lucky, people-pleasing animals. Zuzu has her own mind, however puny, and does what she wants to do. I respect that.

This is not to say, however, that Zuzu isn’t a loving creature. She definitely is. As a matter of fact, she is curled up next to me right now as I write about her. I missed her so much while I was away at school! Crazy barking chihuahuas make life more interesting, and far cuter.

Zuzu has her good days, too. She either “turns on the adorable” and is impossible to refuse, or, because she’s clumsy, does something stupid. Like that time she tried to eat the floor.

All of her contradictions were forgotten last night when I came home, though. I couldn’t wait to see my favorite little tyrant!

Zuzu is less Napoleonic when one of her family comes home. I walked in the door and waited to hear the pitter-patter of tiny chihuahua feet. Suddenly, she raced over to me, squealing and wiggling around with excitement. Nothing is cuter than Zuzu when she is happy to see you. She actually smiles! Je ne veux point “corriger” cette chienne. I don’t want to ‘correct’ this dog at all

sleeping...

Anybody want to learn French?

Monet's gardens at Giverny, one of the most enchanting places in the world.

Bonjour, everyone! Several of my friends have asked me to teach them basic French. Unfortunately, my schedule is really packed, but I still want to be able to teach. So, I will soon post audio and written parts of basic French lessons that I am currently creating. I’d like, first, to introduce my “lesson plan” and teaching philosophy.

I want to begin by saying that learning a foreign language is much easier if you associate each new word with an image or idea; just like you would when you learn a new English word. So even though I will include English translations here, try to put each new word with an image in your mind instead. Associating French words with images will keep you from having to translate in your head as you speak, and thus, you will be able to speak more fluently.

A word about French pronunciation: In French, we use a completely different part of the mouth than we do in English. The French also reverberate a lot of sounds through the nose, and the back of the throat. I can only explain this through giving you some examples myself. Spanish is a much more “phonetic” language; that is, there is one way to pronounce each letter. In French, there are multiple ways to pronounce each letter, given the context. But don’t be afraid! French is a beautiful language, and beautiful things are sometimes complicated. Because French is so context-dependent, it also has a greater potential for subtlety and nuance than English or Spanish. It is absolutely worth the effort to learn.

I will teach survival French, as well as vocabulary words by category. My first lesson will include basic greetings, and then, something like days of the week, months of the year, food, clothing, colors, animals, etc.

I am so excited about doing this. I will soon be on winter break, so I can work on this project, and hopefully inspire someone to study French. I will include anecdotes from my time in France, as well as stories about my various French teachers (including the illustrious M. Guiard, a native speaker from Picardy, France). The French language is nothing without the culture that created it, and so I believe learning French culture is an integral part of the experience.

Ladies and gentlemen, the French language is the love of my life. French has the ability to communicate complex emotion more than any language I am familiar with, and there is something beautiful about how it sounds once you get the accent down. I am not the first American to be completely enamored with the language, nor will I be the last, but I hope my enthusiasm comes across in this brief language tutorial, and that you retain some of it. What I can promise you, if you decide to study French, or are seriously studying it already, is that it will bring passion to your life. By that, I mean that the language requires passion to be able to speak it well. You will find yourself using increasingly big hand gestures, using your shoulders to express emotion, and finding that the vocal acrobatics of the French accent are at once challenging and beautiful (although bungling first attempts is all part of the process). I, too, am still learning. I hope you find my mini-lessons to be enjoyable.

“Holy shit!”: Or, adventures in the storm

When I heard that there would be a blizzard here in Grinnell, I didn’t anticipate that my powers of endurance, and even my moral fibre, would be tested immediately upon waking up this morning. I woke up, went to brush my teeth, and returned to my room only to find that the door was locked. Standing in the hall wearing pajamas and a bathrobe, it occured to me that this was bad timing to be locked out of my room. I called campus security to unlock my door, but it was too early for any of them to pick up. So, I went into survival mode.

My friend Julia’s door was unlocked, so, because desperate times call for desperate measures, I promptly violated our friendship and stole some of her clothes. We’re about the same size, so that was all right, but I was without my big winter parka that usually keeps me invincible. Nevertheless, I continued onward and outward into the cold. I was met by 40 mph winds and blowing ice and snow.

Channel 13 news said of Grinnellians, “those must be some really hardy people.” We are the only school in Iowa to continue with classes despite the blizzard. Of course! This is Grinnell. We don’t believe in the existence of snow, or religious holidays. I was going to get to French class, no matter what.

And get to French class, I did. Fortunately, I am alive.

pine trees blown over

Grinnell, Grinnell.

At this time of year, the semester is winding down. Yes, I still have to study for finals, but today, as I was decorating my Christmas ladder (see below), it didn’t seem so bad. I went with my “Grinnell family” to lunch, and it was so enjoyable seeing our beautiful campus during this first big snow. I thought I would include some photos from today, as well as some random ones from the semester so far…

Alec and daVID working while I'm being distracting...

From left: me, Phillip, Naadiaa, Claire and Kate. unplanned day of blue!

 

From left: Hulia, birthday boy daVID, tired chlorine baby Alec, Ian and Carrrla!

Tyler and I at Diwali

Prof. Harrison totally invited us to bond with him. He actually wrote that. What a fantastic man.

I literally lived in this desk for a day when working on a big history project.

Walking in a winter wonderland....

Christmas ladder

To: Rachel, From: Amanda

When I first got to Grinnell, getting to know my room mate, Rachel, wasn’t exactly on my mind. I spent all my time on homework and my then-boyfriend. Because of this, I was not the best room mate. We were nice to each other, don’t get me wrong, and we talked sometimes, but I still felt we never really clicked. That’s my fault, I didn’t put the effort into it.

I so often observed the differences in our decor as a metaphor for our (as I perceived, incompatible) personalities. My side of the room is predominantly pink and purple (or “eggplant with pink accents”– that’s for you, Rachel), whereas Rachel’s side is green and blue. Both of us are very neat, but where my side looks a bit more cluttered, as if it were inhabited by a bohemian Holly Golightly, Rachel’s side was streamlined; functional, even. Most of her things were kept in their place in labeled containers. On my bed, I have a stuffed chihuahua with a sparkly pink collar, and Rachel has a soccer ball pillow– the two stuffed objects seemingly facing off. I determined that we had a Mary Kate vs. Ashley complex: Sporty girl vs. ultra girly-girl.

When making these observations, I hardly knew Rachel, I had her pegged as an organized, brainiac type. I did her a HUGE disservice in assuming this about her. This lack of knowledge about her would soon change.

When I broke up with my now-ex boyfriend, I constantly needed the comfort of my room–my fuzzy blankets, my books, my space. Before the breakup, I was rarely ever in the room. I was always with my ex. The library, where I used to study with him, now had flashes of memory associated with it. There were the bookshelves we hid behind once to kiss unseen, the desks we sat at, under which we would hold hands as we did our homework. All of these would-be fond memories were rendered repulsive by the toxic turn the relationship took. I couldn’t go back there, not for a while.

So my room became my haven. Rachel noticed the immediate change, when I began staying in our room constantly, curled up on my chair by the window with my laptop or a book. Oftentimes I would sit in silence with Rachel, both of us diligently doing our work. We began to talk more, and gradually started taking an interest in each other’s lives.

I have learned, since then, that Rachel’s reserve and sometimes-shyness quickly fall away once you talk to her, and she has a surprisingly quick, wry sense of humor that I happen to L-O-V-E. We began to confide in each other, and I learned that Rachel has a wisdom that belies her youthful exterior. She also has a work ethic and determination to succeed that I greatly admire, and seek to emulate. What’s more, Rachel is SO fun to hang out with! I really treasure our relationship.

I knew our relationship had truly changed when I noticed Rachel wearing a pink Grinnell T-shirt. Wait… could it be? Yes, Rachel had borrowed MY shirt, and didn’t feel the need to ask! When I saw her in that shirt, I wanted to run over, give her a huge hug, and tell her that she could borrow ANY of my clothes, anytime. I couldn’t believe we had come so far, to the point when she could feel comfortable enough with me NOT to ask me if she could borrow my clothes.

I write this now as I sit in the hallway outside our room. She has a big math test tomorrow, so we went to bed early. We had each climbed into our beds in the darkness, when I realized that Rachel had thrown her soccer ball pillow onto my bed. I picked up my stuffed chihuahua and threw it over to her, and she laughed and propped it up so it was “watching” me.

As I lay in bed, I hugged the soccer ball pillow to my chest and thought, I am so lucky that Rachel is not only my room mate, but my friend, too.

And even though they’re different, Mary Kate and Ashley are sisters in the end, right?