Happy New Week :)

Good morning 🙂 (yes, I realize that it’s not really morning but … .. it’s part of the lifestyle)

I mean I definitely feel like every week is exactly the same but it’s fine. Really. We’re doing great. I did find LITERALLY 100 dollars when I did laundry yesterday so that was a fun surprise. Like, super fun. It sounds like I’m playing it down but I’m really not. And I really needed it yesterday. Not because I really needed a hundred dollars but because I really needed a miracle. Proof of life. A seed of hope, etc. And it worked. And I could not remember for the life of me having 5 folded up 20’s in the past few weeks. So the only explanation was really that God was throwing me a bone. Heard you. Appreciated.

Okay let’s get down to business. This is what I’ve been…

Listening To…

I have actually been throwing it back a little bit to earlier in the century with one of my all time favorite playlists. It’s called 20 Cents if You Can Guess Who Sings This.

And it’s filled with Matchbox Twenty & friends.

When Danny and I were too young to stay home by ourselves we would go with my mom, in her Gold Grand Caravan, to pick up Matt from soccer practice. And on the car ride home Matt would pick up change from the console and say, “this money goes to whoever knows who sings this song”. (Matt loved giving away free money. We could also make a few cents by going to the kitchen and filling up his water cup while he was doing homework.) You see, this was long before the song title and artist were on the front dash. Unfortunately, Matt had almost a decade on Danny and me. We were still listening to Radio Disney in our spare time. But I knew one band that Matt listened to. Matchbox Twenty. So I guessed Matchbox Twenty. Every single time. Every single song. And I was rarely right. I knew nothing. But every once in a while, Delilah would throw me a bone and she would play a Matchbox Twenty song and I would get 20 cents from my older brother. Even though, now that I think about it, that was my mom’s change anyway. So all in all, the point is – this is a very nostalgic playlist.



I hate this part because it makes me realize how quickly I watch shows. Scary. Truly. I tried this week to make a commitment to only watch educational shows and documentaries, like I used to when I was cultured and ambitious. And then I started watching Ramy on Hulu. Which for those of you who don’t know – not a documentary. Well, I guess it kind of is. I don’t know, go look it up, it was cute.

This week I also watched Palm Springs like 6 times. Because Andy Samberg is in it and produced it. Aka the love of my life. The movie was cute. I mean cinematically it wasn’t the best movie ever made, but like… Andy Samberg was in it. So. I’ll probably watch it again tonight. He also sold this movie from Sundance and broke the record for biggest sale and he asked for 69 extra cents. Which is just an absolute joke. As if I needed another reason to love him.


Nothing 🙂 I’m the worst! Just kidding.

Just kidding about being the worst. Not kidding about the not reading thing.


Guys. I have incredible news. I finished the first draft of my book. So I guess I can tell you a little bit more about it.

Hesitantly but I will.

It’s a collection of short stories, poetry & prose.

And that’s all I got 😉

I’m really excited about it and I hope you are too.


Part Three

So I just learned a new saying about two weeks ago. And since it’s been in my consciousness, I’ve heard/seen it about a thousand times. The saying is: “becoming a cog in the machine”. Apparently, wait actually let me go look it up right now to make sure it means what I think it means…

Okay, the free dictionary verified my prior thoughts – here’s the exact definition: Someone or something that is functionally necessary but of small significance or importance within a larger operation or organization.

So basically – I’m going to go into a rant about how I don’t want to be a cog in a machine. Because I’ve seen many people do this, and I know many people that live like this. And if you’re okay with that, that’s fine – look away from the rest of this post because I’m just going to clarify my stance and explain how I’m completely not okay with it for myself.

I do feel very lucky and blessed to be a rare 20-something that really does know what she wants to do. I am super passionate about the field I want to work in and I know that my dream job does exist within this field (*insert meme about not dreaming of labor* LOL). And although it took a couple years and degrees to figure it out, I do feel confident that I have found something that I can love and bring passion to for the rest of my life. So, why would I settle for something that is simply not that? If it exists in this physical world, then it can be mine. It’s as simple as that. I know that I have the capability of actually leaving an impact, so I will hold out in order to accomplish that.

In the society we live in, the work-life balance is i n s a n i t y. For some jobs more than others, but in reality we spend almost, if not more than, half of our waking hours at work / commuting to work / thinking about work. That’s too much time to not be absolutely in love what you do. I have seen jobs change people (not everybody, calm down. but also… invitation to check yourself???) into being a shell of who they used to be, myself in the past included (kind of dramatic, I guess, but also the truth.) Leaving them very little time and energy to do what they want to do, go where they want to go, and be who they want to be. How many times do you want to do something and you can’t because of work? Or how many times on a Sunday do you complain about the next day being a Monday? How excited are you when it’s finally Friday and you get a mere 2 days off from your soul-sucking job? I don’t want to do it. I refuse to. I do not want my job to be just a means to get money. You can think I’m illogical or not pragmatic, or lack any realistic bone in my body and that’s fine. I promise you are not the first person to think that and you will not be the last. But a couple of my pipe dreams have come true in the past so who’s to say it won’t happen again? And sure, some people like their first job out of college. As Matt D’Avella said, “I’ve met both of them”.

I recognize that it is my privilege to take my time and not take a full-time job that makes me feel insignificant, because I have very few bills right now and alternate streams of income. (Even though, it should not be a privilege to find a job you can actually bear going to every day, but that’s another story). And this is not to say that you should not put in effort if you don’t have your “dream job” or are working as a “cog in the machine”. Obviously there is a manner of sanctification that comes from doing well in work that is not glamorous or perfectly suited for you. This is also not to say that I don’t believe in climbing the ladder and starting at the bottom, because there is obviously something to be said about that, as well. And I’m not oblivious to the fact that when you are starting out in your career you will probably have a job that has some shitty parts. Obviously. In the society we live in, you have to work and earn a high position/position of power/etc. I get that. What I’m saying is – everyone should have the right to earn that position in an organization/place/field that they are passionate about contributing to. I.e. if you don’t care about money and personal finances, don’t get stuck at a bank working your way up to the top, because you will still be unsatisfied no matter what your position eventually is. We all have a purpose, and it should not be commonplace to simply ignore that for money.

When you meet someone, one of the very first questions they’ll ask you is, “What do you do?” They clearly mean for a living, like what’s your job. It’s a classic American conversation opener and we are probably all guilty of throwing it out at least once or twice. Now, of course there are arguments (that I will gladly support at any time) that state that what you do doesn’t define who you are. I agree. A lot of people do. But unfortunately that does not change the connotation that society has given our professions over centuries and centuries. We judge people based of what they do. It’s the truth. It will probably be the truth for a long time. And we all know I love Spain for many reasons, but I’m just saying – it’s very easy to know someone for years, YEARS, there and have no idea what they do for a profession. In addition, sometimes, when they are curious to find out what you do (even though it’s FAR from the first question they ask), they’ll say “Que te dedicas?” which translates to “What do you dedicate yourself to?” (Sorry my inner linguist is coming out.)

Imagine. If I ask you what you dedicate yourself to, would you reply with your job?? Like, I’m just saying… if I was working for something I’m not passionate about – I know I wouldn’t. I’d probably stutter for a few seconds and then make up some joke so I don’t feel badly about myself. But they are considering what you do during the day to be something that you are fully and completely dedicated to. What a concept. Can we adopt that here in America please? If you don’t care about that, that is your decision. But I’m going to be dedicated to my work. My job will fulfill me more than it dissatisfies me. I can promise you that. Because when you have a job where you are making a difference, feeding your God-given purpose, you can show up better in every aspect of your life.

So next time I tell you I’m not working right now and you want to give me a pity smirk that judges and questions my aptitude and work ethic – please remember that I had two degrees by the time I was 22 and I’d feel MUCH more shame becoming a cog in the machine than I feel being unemployed.

ALSO we are in a pandemic LOL so if I can’t find a proper job within your timeline – I have no apologies for you.

Monday, again?? ?

Hey guys it’s me, Beth welcome back to my channel today we’re gonna be… uhhh..,. spending all day on FaceTime with my friend Iliana researching all the new countries we wana move to. Because that’s what you do when you have the whole day to accomplish nothing. Well, anyway, here’s Wonderwall by Oasis.

Listening to…

Hm. I’ve been listening to a lot of One Direction but I’m not going to tell you that. So, I guess I’ll mention that I’ve been listening to country music. Which now that I think about it, is not any less embarrassing. But my brother’s been a bit obsessed lately so he’s got me in a country mood. And it’s summer. So something about driving around listening to country music ?? I don’t know. I don’t belong in Texas, I promise. But here’s my playlist:


Still finishing Welcoming the Stranger. And also started some poetry books as a motivator to write my own. We’ll see. I only read one that I found to be worth recommending, but it’s a cute little book of what the author calls “micro-memoirs”. Absolutely adorable. Well written and a quick read. It’s called Heating and Cooling by Beth Ann Fennelly. (I obviously only picked it up because the author has the same name as me.)


Been super lame on the Netflix watching game which is obviously very unlike me!! But I did do some fun things this week so I had to give up some of my nap time :/

I watched Desparados yesterday, though. It’s a new Netflix movie with the guy who plays Winston on New Girl and that girl from SNL, Nasim Pedrad. She makes me laugh and the movie was good, although very predictable.

And other than that I’ve been on a conspiracy theory kick so I’ve been watching a lot of documentaries as well. Don’t ask which ones. There’s too many.


Obv been working on the elusive book that may or may not ever come to fruition. And slacking on every other front. So we’re doing great!!! Check in next week to see if I’ve completely given up on life yet!! xoxx


Remember when I mentioned The Canterbury Tales last week? And I was like “yea, same same but different”? Well same same because I also am an unreliable narrator. Like very unreliable. I mean, in life I’m reliable, but as a narrator I just don’t think it’s possible. The Canterbury Tales is probably literary’s most famous unreliable narrator, and I guess The Unemployed Tales will be the second.

It is truly a wild time to be alive. And I don’t want to sound like everyone else or talk about the pandemic just because Yuck. We’ve heard enough, truly. And as I was saying before, I’m completely unreliable because I know literally nothing but my own life. And the only thing that it’s taught me is that I can practically hear God screaming at us to use this time to slow down. Heard ya, God.

But slowing down is completely out of my nature. Well, maybe that’s a lie – I don’t mind slowing down, like completely to a full stop, in my bed, sleeping all day. But I do like to be in control, and I think that’s the hard part of all of this – that we don’t see an ending and in many industries, especially the one I (will eventually) work in, the future is so unpredictable. And going through the day to day, feeling like you don’t really have anything to give to, or to be passionate about, is totally against our human nature. I could easily go through a whole day not leaving the house or talking to literally anyone. I try not to, but I easily could. And it starts to wear me down; feeling like I’m not contributing to the turning of the world, even though it’s not my own fault. Having the same routine, or lack of routine I should say, is something that I am totally not used to. I just moved home from Spain one year ago (literally one year ago today. I’m not crying, I swear) and have lived in 2 different places and had 3 different jobs since then. So this complete lack of pressure from the world to contribute, leads to an internal increase of pressure coming from my own mind.

And it’s insane the amount of pressure we put on ourselves to produce – the whole world was at basically a standstill and we still felt like we need to be producing. Like a day off is a day that was not worth anything. Like we must be an extra kind of productive to be worthy. Or that we must earn the time off that we’ve been given. Sometimes it feels like the whole weight of the world is collapsing in on me. Which is a little odd considering the weight of the world should be light considering how empty it is right now.

Maybe it’s just time to take a second and see what God is trying to tell us in all of this. Like maybe that our worth isn’t based on what we have in our hands or on our dockets at the end of the day. That maybe we can just slow down and do something that has no other outcome other than… nothing. How we can rest and have fun and still deem the day as successful. Soon we will have to realize that the rush is for nothing. It is towards nothing. And we will finally see that our worth is dependent on how we make people feel loved. Including ourselves. And taking the time to do that, is everything but worthless.

New Monday, New Me!!

That’s an absolute joke. Same old Beth, here 🙂

Just take what you can get!

Another week in the wonderful life that is 2020. But the weather. It truly has me feeling some type of way. I always say that once Daylight Savings hits in the Spring I become a new person. And I stand by that. Especially in June when daylight hours are peaking. I even have a couple tan lines. Which is fun for a little Polish girl like me. Granted, its shorts, sneakers and sports bra tan lines because I only go outside once a day to go on a run. And by go outside once a day, I pretty much mean that I only get out of bed once a day. Honestly, why do I even complain – this is an ideal lifestyle for me.

So, wanna know what I’ve been consuming while I lay around all day? Well here we go with our Monday check in…

Listening To…

Boy oh BOY, have I been on my podcast listening game lately? Yes. I have, indeed. I’ve been listening to a lot of Jay Shetty, as always. Pretty much just binging every episode he has.

And when I feel like listening to music, ODESZA’s been the move recently.


Would you hate me if I said I was watching New Girl again? I kinda hate myself, to be honest. I’ve seen it so many times. I’m just picking and choosing episodes now. I just identify with Nick Miller so much. Like he’s so lazy and yet has so many ambitions and it’s so oddly specific that it makes him very relatable. Anyway, I don’t care more about fictional characters than I do my real life. Really. I don’t. I swear.

I also watched a super cute CHEEEEESY movie called 2 Night Stand on Amazon Prime. And I am not in the business of film critique, but if I was, I’d rate it pretty well given the fact that it was incredibly cheesy. Sometimes you just need that though. And besides, my mom was the one who recommended it to me and she is the QUEEN of Hallmark movies, so if that tells you anything.


Okay I finally picked up some of the books I’ve had laying around. Every day this week I’ve been reading a book called Welcoming the Stranger: Justice, Compassion & Truth in the Immigration Debate by Matthew SoerensJenny Yang, and Leith Anderson. Which as we all know, is my life’s calling. So it’s been really good thus far and I have to shout out my friend Tess, for recommending it to me months ago.


I have been having a ton of fun writing the Unemployed Tales – just putting a lot of my feelings from the past few months into words. Its so cathartic that I already have quite a few posts queued up, so perhaps I will post before Thursday 😉

Obviously, also still working on the book so when I feel confident enough I’ll finally tell you guys what it’s about 🙂

And that’s it for the week – I’ll leave you guys with a short poem that I wrote a few days ago on my Instagram:


It’s easier to say good bye to a gust of wind than what it takes with it when it goes.


It’s kind of like The Canterbury Tales. Expect, not really at all.

I’m trying not to count the days or months or anything. Because I have a severe time-pressure issue (is that what it’s called? I think other people just call it anxiety, but nonetheless I’m working on it.) that makes me feel like I need to accomplish everything on Earth before I turn 30 years old because for some reason at that time I will shrivel up and wither away to nothing, but anyway. Other people feel like this too, right?! Please don’t tell me I’m crazy. I go therapy, I promise.

That being said, I moved back home (what’s up NY?) almost 9 months ago. Brb, I have to go THROW UP. Just kidding. Kind of. It’s not that bad, really. I’m very grateful to have parents that took me back at the age of 23 after galavanting through 3 different states/countries the year prior. Like, I wasn’t really galavanting. I honestly don’t really know what that word means. But I was getting a degree, and I had a job after that. But I had to come home. I say “had to” to rationalize it to myself. Regardless, I came home. I called it my retirement for a little while. Like the whole month of October I kept saying, “I should teach people how to retire at 22!”. I am a joke. I started looking for jobs, though.

Oh, I forgot this part actually. I decided that if I didn’t have a job by November that I would go back to Europe for a month or so to recalibrate and visit some friends. So I did that. And I came back right before Christmas. And then it was the holidays. And thennnnnnn, I started looking for jobs.

And nothing really bit. In the job market’s defense, I am very picky. I know what field I want to be in, and I am really taking advantage of living at home right now, so I’m taking my time to find exactly what I want (education, but not teaching). I do feel really blessed that I know what I want my career to look like and I don’t want to be another girl in her early twenties that dreads going to her 9 to 5. Not that I think I’m too good for that. It’s actually the opposite – like I physically will not be able to keep myself happy in any area if I’m not super in love with 40 hours of my week. It’s a character flaw, for sure.

And then the whole pandemic issue hit. What a bummer. For many reasons, obviously. But selfishly, because it has made it very difficult to keep looking for jobs. So now it’s halfway through the year, and I’m home and jobless and writing to control my emotions. And it’s fine. Really, it is. I just didn’t think it would look like this. So this is my way to cope through the break up of what I thought my life would look like at this point & post it on the internet so this season feels like it’s worth something? Is that how it works these days? Anyway, I give you – The Unemployed Tales.

When 2020 started I declared my word of the year as “Freedom”. And I kind of meant it as like… I would have money and could live where I wanted to live and do what I wanted to do. Bro. I had no idea. That the freedom. Was going to be Time Freedom. Talk about an antidote for my time-pressure issue. I have had l i t e r a l l y no choice but to let go of whatever timeline I thought I would have of getting a job, moving out, etc. and just surrender. Definitely a full life lesson about many other things we can’t control. It’s been humbling, that’s for sure. But the cool thing is, I totally gained about 70 years of life now that I don’t think I need to accomplish everything in the next 7 years. So. What’s the rush?

More Unemployed Tales to come next Thursday.

Make Monday Feel Like Saturday

You may be asking yourself: Is Beth posting on her blog again? Is she going to actually be consistent this time? Does she even actually like writing because she often forgets to do it?

Well let me assure you – I do not, in fact, know if I’m going to stay consistent. But I am going to try. I do, in fact, have an abundance of free time on my hands these days. And I do, in fact, actually like writing. So while I pretend that I’m qualified to write a book, I figured I would try and start posting on ye old faithful – the blog.

I’m going to make it very easy on myself by only posting a few times a week (meh. if that) but starting with every Monday. As if I am a person who is qualified to be doing any of this, and as if anyone actually gives a shit about what I’m doing or what my opinion is on anything.

Yea, so anyway, while we pretend those things are true, I’ll hit y’all up with a post every Monday about my weekly faves – like what I’m listening to, reading, writing, etc. So without further ado, here is what I am…

Listening To…

Currently & for the past week I have been listening to a beautifully curated Spotify Playlist by yours truly. (I will forever have the highest esteem regarding my own taste in music.) It’s a lot of… alt-Rock? Does that sound stupid? Mixed with some pop music. I will warn you, some songs on there are from Tik Tok. Believe me, I hate me more than you do. But some of the songs are just good. Read: Moral of the Story by Ashe and Niall Horan.

The title of the playlist is accurately:

will my jordan year ever be my jordan year

Read into it however you want. I’m doing fine, I swear. Listen Here:



Um. Wow. Already on the first week – I hate to admit it but… I’m not reading anything. Like, at this particular minute. I have a few books that I have bookmarks halfway through. But this is supposed to be like a weekly thing, and I haven’t picked up any of those books in at least a week. All great books. But I guess you’ll have to wait until I pick them up again to find out what they are.


As my best friend Iliana shamed me today on the phone – I am definitely in a reality show binge watching phase. Which is… I’m not going to say it’s unlike me… but it’s definitely a rare phase for sure.

I’ve been catching up on Bachelor: Greatest Seasons on Monday nights with one of my favorite brothers and his girlfriend. (Sorry Matt, I just outted you as being part of the Bachelor Nation.) But it’s nice because Lexi also makes us dinner when we watch. SpoilED.

I also jumped on the 90 day Fiance trend last night. Only an episode or two in though, so I don’t have a huge opinion other than just ….. Wow. Like. For real. Wow. I’ll keep you updated on how that goes.

As far as movies go, I watched two of Pete Davidson’s movies on Hulu. Well, I think one was Hulu and the other might have been an illegal website. But my memory doesn’t serve me. 🙂 I don’t super love Pete Davidson. At least not like my friend Amanda does. That’s her kinda guy – tall and funny and looks malnutrition-ed a little bit. But I thought the movies were good nonetheless. That probably had more to do with Judd Apatow than Pete, though.


Well, obviously like I said I’m pretending that I’m qualified to be writing a book. Which is great and fun but I totally kind of get why Ernest Hemingway, among many other writers, had a teensy problem with alcohol. I’m joking. Kind of. Anyway. I’m writing a book. I’m like 10 pages in. So. You’ll get more information as soon as I know it. Also let’s not forget that I’m the queen of starting things and forgetting about them, so don’t get too excited unless you want to sign up to keep me accountable. But yea. It’s coming, for now.

I’ll leave you with a little poem I wrote this week regarding some current events going on in the world:

you say “this is crazy. this will be in history books”
well everything in the past was once in the present

the present holds a chance
an opportunity
for change

you say “well its better than the world our grandparents lived in”

thats not good enough for me. nor should it be good enough for you.

we will not be able to say that for much longer. if we continue like this.

look inside
what can you do so that our grandchildren may still say
“this is a better world than our grandparents lived in”

Happy Monday,

Beth Ann ❤

It Might Not Get Better; But You Will

Author’s Note: This post has been a long time in the making, though I just compiled it recently – It is little parts of journal entries that I have had since 2016. From some of my lowest days, and some better days. Just to show how it non-linear the path along a mental health journey can be. These sentences are pulled straight from old journals, unedited. This is the raw, rollercoaster ride that many people face every day within their own brains. The // Signals a new day in my journal. I tried to limit the days in between just to show how quickly the feelings arrive and how painfully they fleet.

This only contains carefully curated parts of my personal story, with a lot left between the lines. There’s so much more to the days and how hard it is to pull yourself up and how graceful you have to be with yourself when you are down. 

But, I hope that it means something to someone. Just to see how low I felt – And how now, I am the happiest I’ve ever been. Every day. For no reason other than that I can be. 


I never imagined my life looking like this. I’m so miserable. Like I would be the one who feels so mentally unstable. Who makes jokes about not being able to go on. But here I am. I have to admit it. I am depressed. And I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t even know if it’s fixable. 


So I’m sitting alone. With tea to try and calm me down. And the tightness in my chest increasing more quickly than ever. 

And I write. With no barriers between my heart and my head, or my head and my hands. Everything I think. I write. And I think – hey, I’m pretty good at this. But right now that’s not the point.

The point is – I don’t have anything that matters.


When I was younger I figured by this age, I would be happy. I wouldn’t cry myself to sleep and I would be as happy as the people around me thought I was. And now, as 21 creeps closer, I’ve never felt less happy. Every day I cry. It’s always something new, though.

I spent Thanksgiving morning crying over the fact that I didn’t like my sweater.

I cry about my acne, About my health, About how hard it is to live every day. I cry about my job and how unfulfilling it is. I know I’m a quitter. I always have been. But its so hard to see things through. I don’t know why.  I cry because I need help and I’m not getting it. I feel like I’m doing the best I can. But nothing ever works. I feel like I’ve been good so far. And I try to be a good friend and a good person. And I want to be happy where I am. But I only want to be happy where I am so I can be happy somewhere else. Somewhere down the line. 

I could literally cry about everything. I could cry about nothing. I need to talk to someone.


I should go to church again. 


Does everyone feel this senseless at this age? But I’m not worried. God will get me through this. I’m not worried at all… Sometimes you just have to tell yourself things until they become true. 


I’m trying so hard. Every day getting out of bed is so hard. But I must be doing something wrong. Because nothing is really going well.


A revelation. I can sit and be sad about what I don’t know and what I can’t control. Or I can remember to live through my faith. Every day. No matter what. And every day I can look at my tattoo and remember that God is greater than the highs and the lows. And every day I can live faithfully through my God. I have faith that He is going to lead me to where I need to be. I’m going to be okay.


I have to leave. I want to get out of this house so bad. I hate that I feel like I’m not cared about. I hate myself in this house. I went up to my room and cried. It just really hurts. On top of that – I’m upset that no one ever pays attention. Or listen or try to understand. 

I just have to smile. 


Good morning!!! The first thing I did this morning was cry.  

It’s like something in my brain is physically taking all my hope away. All my friends tell me that the future is bright and things will get better. But when you feel this low, hope means nothing. It’s just another four letter word.


These days, I don’t really like to count down days until things – because I’m trying to live in the present moment, but I am definitely excited for my birthday. And for everything to come. 

Yesterday was good because I focused on all the good stuff – like being the old me again. This morning however, is a different story. All these little things are getting to me.

Everything will be fine. I just miss being my old self. I miss being the old me and I found her for a little while last night and now the boring plain sad me is back. 

I need to go to church again.

I just need to change something. I get cranky and sad. It’s just crazy and annoying that I’m going to live my life like this. 

I don’t know what else to change to make myself feel better.


Honestly I just feel so disgusting and sad all the time.


I can’t do this anymore. I can’t do this by myself. I need help, God. Please help me and get me through. 


I think in a way the reason I have been bouncing back and forth – I am depressed, sad, lonely, angry. And then I realize it, and I know its wrong, and I’m ready to change. And then I kind of subconsciously think to myself – Well I can’t just be happy so I can get good things to happen to me. I can’t just force myself to pretend I’m not lonely just so I won’t be lonely.


So I haven’t written in a while. I don’t know, I feel like I don’t have much left to say. I know every day I should have new thoughts but I feel very stuck here and I need to do more to expand my horizons and live my passion every day. I don’t think I ha. . .


I am just feeling a little overwhelmed I guess. It is so hard to keep deciding to be happy. I am trying so hard, though. Like every time I get disappointed and sad – I keep trying to catch myself. 


This morning, I ate a bagel. So that was good. Focusing on the little things.

I’m trying to be in a good mood today. It’s not that I’m in a bad mood.. Its just that I have to try to be in a good mood – which is fine. I just am working a little harder. Drinking lots of water!!!! Such a healthy little b****, Okay. Gonna go. Bye


I don’t know how else to describe it. Just sad. 


I guess the hard part right now isn’t keeping myself happy – like I’ve realized I can be happy with just what I have. So these good days are as good as it’s going to get. And that’s okay with me. 


I thought I was fine. Angry.. Frustrated.. Sad.. But not broken. 

I slept for 45 minutes last night. And I left for work 30 minutes early so I could cry out all my tears and not be caught crying at work. 

It didn’t work.


Eventually the pain turns to nothing-ness and I can’t decide which is worse. Being unable to hold in my tears or feeling nothing at all. 


I try to laugh but tears just come out.

I have been crying about every little thing that happens. But the thing is, I’m not even crying about anything. What’s even wrong? Everything or nothing?


Its truly a miracle that one day you just wake up and can get out of bed easily. And go to work easily. And laugh. Today is one of those days and I’m not taking it for granted. 


Maybe those things that seem to matter so much, don’t really matter so much. Maybe, it’s just a matter of getting through. I don’t have to many things that make me happy, but I guess I don’t have to let those things make me sad either. 


Water helps. 


I had a bunch of good days in a row. I think it’s because I’m giving myself a chance. You know, like trying hard to drink water and be healthy and do stuff that I like. It feels great, to be honest. But I’m scared it won’t last. I’m so scared to go back. 


I was running late to an appointment. I thought I was doing fine. But I was three minutes late and that made me cry. So much that I had to pull over. So I was even later. Well. Something must be wrong if I can cry about something so trivial. Does anyone even care? Do I even care? It’s feeling like a no, most days. 


I just have to pick one thing a day to do to make it a little bit better. “Not every day will be great, but there will be something great in every day…” they say that right? Maybe, I can be the something great. Because the only thing I’ll always have is myself. And on a good day, I’m okay.


I don’t want to just be okay. I want to be amazing. I want to beam happiness. Like I did when I was a kid.  But that feels so far away now.


I haven’t been writing as much. I’ve been keeping other journals. Ones with dreams, and goals and plans and lists. I used to be okay with what I had, while still looking forward to those things. I already have dreams that I fulfilled. I don’t right now. That’s for sure. I’m jobless. And living in my parent’s house. In a town that doesn’t feel like home. And no concrete plans for the near or far future. But I can still be something great. 


Of course everything feels meaningless. For we as humans are what bring meaning to anything. So, either bring the meaning, or don’t. 


I never imagined my life looking like this. I’m happy. I’m blessed. It’s all fixable. Even if it isn’t fixed now. 

My Thoughts On Eating Vegetables

Why do I suck at posting? Why do I not just type things and put it online like I tell everyone back home that I’m going to? I know you’re wondering. I am as well. I have no answer. But I just made an excel spreadsheet named “Goals” and put “Post on blog once a week” on there. Right under “Eat 1 real meal every day”. Life. Is. Not. Easy.

There’s no particular topic for this blog so if you’re looking for something neat and organized, HA click somewhere else.

But I do want to talk a little bit about life in general. Because obviously as a b a r e l y 22 year old I just know sooOOoo oo0o much. (omg I’m being sarcastic, calm down people). But there’s just been this one sentence running through my mind lately that I think I could address – at least in the way that it fits into my own life:

“Please. Eat more vegetables. And go to bed at a more reasonable hour, Beth.”

Oh, wait no. I guess there’s been two sentences running through my mind. I was talking about the other one…

“Being sad when you’re trying your best is one thing; But how do you know you’re truly sad if you’re not trying your hardest to be happy?”

Okay, so that one is a bit more insightful. And I’m sure it was planted in my head from some unknown energy or source in the air because I sure as hell didn’t think of it all by myself. But I am grateful for that energy or source or fairy wand, because it’s given me a lot to think about.

It is easy to be sad when you are not trying your hardest. I went many days, even weeks, here in Madrid, so far away from home, where I come home from school and sleep or waste time on social media and YouTube (yes I still watch youtube. call me an eighth grader. idc. I’ve heard it all before). Or Sunday’s that have been wasted because I didn’t get much sleep on Saturday night. And I’m not saying I wasn’t having any fun – but I am saying that I wasn’t trying my hardest.

Adjusting back to being in Madrid after spending Christmas at home was hard. Luckily – my amazing brothers were here visiting and they helped me ease back into things (ily boys & sorry for the mascara stains on your shirt, Danny). But for the first few weeks of this semester I kept thinking, “Why am I so sad here?” And that’s when I realized: I just wasn’t trying my hardest.

But now I am. *Hence: Goals on an Excel Spreadsheet.* I’m going out of my way to talk to people and practice Spanish. I’m looking for ways to spend time out of the house and heeding the great advice of one of my friends: “Spend as little time alone as possible”. I’m eating better and sleeping better and washing my hair when I should. I’m putting in work on my research and my classes. I even drink green tea! For me, that is the definition of trying my hardest. And guess what? I’m not even sad anymore.

I was only sad due to the circumstances that I put myself in. Not the circumstances that I was actually in.

I love the school I teach at. I love the classes I’m taking. I love the people I’m surrounded with. I love learning a new language and new parts of the city every single day. I wasn’t really sad… it was just a lack of trying.

And now I’m sitting here with a terrible cold (because I’ve spent 10 hours this past week teaching 3-5 year olds a dance to One Direction), getting ready to go watch El Clasico with some people I really love, writing a post that has really no point but to brag about how well I’ve been doing. Just by simply putting a little effort in.

I don’t know, it might not change your millennial life like it did mine, but maybe just… try trying…? (I just shoulder shrugged at the end of this sentence – idk how to write that out but I felt it was necessary to share).


Beth Ann


The first time I really, like really really, left my comfort zone was when I came to Madrid, about 4 months ago. I was 21 years old, not set on any specific life plan, but with one dream that I still hold: To avoid mediocrity. And up until that point, I would unfortunately have had to call my life mediocre.

But one dream I had was to live in Spain. I don’t know why I picked Spain – it was a country God had put on my heart when I was young and I fell in love with the culture when I was a kid. Well, I fell in love with the idea of the culture when I was a kid; I didn’t fall in love with the actual culture until a few months ago. And honestly, I don’t even know if I’m in love yet. It’s more of one of those will-they-won’t-they gray area relationships. And you know what comes with those kinds of flings – the highest highs, and the lowest lows.

Anyway, let’s get back to how I got here: Had the dream. After College decided to go after the dream. Did un MONTÓN of research. Applied to a Masters program. Didn’t tell my parents. Not for a while at least. Yup. Just paid the application fee and waited to hear. And waited. And waited. And waited.

I prayed and I prayed trying to see if this was the right move for me and my intuition finally told me that if I got in, it was right to go.

And I got in.

I was so excited at first, I called all my friends to tell them the good news and I finally told my parents the whole story. As I explained to them that I wanted to move to a country, 6 time zones away, some where I have never been before, to go to school and teach English, I’m sure they either thought I was crazy, or they thought it was a typical Beth dream. Most likely, they thought both. After discussing logistics, we decided we’d reconvene to talk about it again the next night.

But.. the next morning, I sent in my deposit.

Luckily, my parents are, although logical, always supportive. And with very little money in my pocket, I started getting ready to move to Madrid.

I spent the entire summer excited, looking at places to live, reading articles about what its like to live in Spain’s capital, and trying to figure out my very, very small budget. Every once in a while I had a doubt about my financial and emotional ability to leave behind everything I’ve ever known and everyone I’ve ever cared about to go live out a childhood dream. But I quickly pushed the fear back as day by day, things kept falling into perfect place. I kept telling my mom that I knew God wanted this for me. And I truly felt that was true.

Until the week before I left. I remember thinking I was crazy. That I wouldn’t be successful. That I had to quit before I even started. I remember crying on the couch, balling my eyes out to my mom, my biggest support system that I would soon be miles and miles away from.

“I can’t go, mom”. I said it. And as the words came out, I honestly felt it. After a long pause, she looked at me and in the typical mom voice, I heard, “Well, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to, Beth.”

Ouch. Okay – to be honest, Mom, I was kind of expecting like a pep talk. A little “don’t worry! You can do it!”. But nope. Mom was just being brutally honest. And looking back it was what I needed to hear, because it made me realize that deep down I really did want this. And it was just my fear that was holding me back.

And now I could go into some good quotes from Bruce Lee and Will Smith and others about fear and courage and all that good stuff. But you pretty much get it.

And that’s not to say it hasn’t been hard here. Dealing with the bureaucracy. Broken metros on my first day.  The language barrier. The six hour time difference from a majority of my support system. Masters classes and teaching every day. Broken phone. Getting hit by a motorcycle. Breaking my thumb. Hosting guests in our small apartment. Spending my first birthday away from my family. Yea, let’s just say I cried a lot. (And shout out to EVERY single friend and family member that answered my Facetimes KNOWING there was going to be a tear-stained face on the other side.)

But looking back on these past four months, no amount of tears can take away from the things I have learned. No amount of bruises and broken bones can compare to the ways I have grown. No misspoken sentences or feeling of shame can dismiss the gratefulness I have for the friends I have made thus far. For the smiles on my students’ faces when I walk in the classroom. For the support I’ve gotten from the other teachers. For the drinks bought, metro lines memorized, nights out, Milka chocolate bars eaten, and everything in between.

So I guess I will add one of those cheesy quotes, because whoever said that “Nothing amazing happens in your comfort zone” was completely right. Because in my comfort I would have never had the millions of amazing experiences I’ve had here. None of the crazy nights, and lazy days with new friends. None of the cool stories and new vocabulary. None of the above-averageness. 

I’m looking forward to another full semester of late nights writing my thesis, missed metros, and miscommunication. Because I know all of it is bringing me right where I’m supposed to me and it is all shaping me in to the person I’m meant to be.

But first, I’m looking forward to seeing all of the people that I love back at home for Christmas.

P.S – I’m going to try my best not to be someone who goes abroad and talks about it all the time, so keep following my posts, I’ll be posting some pics and highlights from first semester! (And hopefully I’ll keep my shit together long enough to post timely next year 🙂 )