Well kids, it’s finally that time. Time for Exploring 24 to come to an end.
But not because I’m going to stop posting. It’s because I’m turning 25 tomorrow! I’ve done all the exploring of 24 that time will allow me. And I have to say, I am much more pleased with what I found than I ever would have imagined.
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I can’t believe it was a whole year ago that I started this thing. While sitting in the disgusting hotel room I had to call home for 3 weeks, I had my roommates try out a new home health trick called “oil pulling” (where you swish coconut, sunflower, peanut oil around your mouth for 20 whole minutes). Partially because I think it really does give you whiter teeth and help with joint pain. But mostly because I knew that meant they had to be quiet for 20 minutes and I could concentrate on posting this. Sneaky and selfish, I know.

But it really feels like the last year of my life was a dream. Of course with any dream there are moments that are so confusing and frustrating it seems like a nightmare. But overall, it was more like a dream where when you wake up you think, “Damn, I kind of wish I slept just a few more minutes.” Especially my FEMA Life. Over the last week I was able to meet up with a member of my FEMAfam and we couldn’t help but compare our time in AmeriCorps to being stuck on the island from LOST. Meaning, none of it made any sense… but we’re glad we watched it. And glad we had each other to help piece together where the smoke monster and roaming polar bears came into play.
I learned a lot about myself over the past year and what it really means to be in my mid twenties.

1) Being 24 feels a lot like being 20. You’re sort of in between being able to be a young, sassy teenager where people can excuse your life choices by simply saying “Oh, she’s just a teenager.” And you’re also not old enough to experience all the more adult things that are just a short year away. However in being 24, it’s more that you feel a little weird when you want to go to bed at 10:30 when a few short years ago you were still doing your makeup and taking shots before going to a frat party. And rather than the cool adult things being that you’re able to legally drink, it’s that your car insurance is about to go down, and that you can rent another car without being raped by underage fees.

2) You’re not alone in feeling older than you are. A few weeks after returning home from AmeriCorps, I was visiting with 2 sorority friends when we realized we had spent 15 whole minutes talking about the new plates they had just purchased. That’s right, plates. It was then that the perpetual “What happened to us?” rang proud and true. We then spent our Friday night letting my one friend practice taking our blood pressure for school and giving us free scoliosis tests. Good news, I am scoliosis free!

3) People start to question you about your future more than you ever possibly imagined. Seriously. Not that I am not absolutely thrilled for all of my friends that are getting engaged, getting married, having children and buying houses…  all of whom are excellent human beings and deserve every happiness in the world. But Holy Crap, not everyone is quite on that level of stability. If one more person asks me if I am in a relationship or getting engaged soon, I might pass out. Even my doctor recently asked me, “Well, would it really be the worst thing in the world f you were pregnant. I mean, you are 24.”

To be fair, she doesn’t know that I spend most of my days watching Sponge bob or that I often have to decide between getting gas and getting a haircut because it isn’t my pay week. But seriously, what does being 24 have to do with that? I simply replied, “Well. It certainly wouldn’t be ideal.” So to all my friends that are making those huge leaps in life, congratulations! Being totally serious, I love weddings and showers and such so I am extremely grateful I now have some to go to for people that I really care about.

But for the people that aren’t quite there yet here’s a helpful tip. When someone asks me about marriage, I usually try to work the phrase “Daddy Issues” somewhere into the conversation. Even if you don't have those, it makes people very uncomfortable and usually keeps them at bay for awhile.

4) And lastly, I learned a lot about how although things don’t always work out the way you planned, it is totally and completely up to you how you handle them. I used to be a firm believer in karma. And sure I guess I still am. But you could be the best person on the face of the planet, never have had a selfish thought ever enter your brain… that doesn’t mean you are exempt from the universe and some of the people in it taking a giant dump on you. The only thing you can do is allow yourself a short freak out, because I genuinely think that helps. As my mom often says, when something goes wrong, you should allow yourself ONE, really good, snotty, makeup running cry. And then it’s time to grow up and figure out what you’re going to do about it. You have to make a plan for how to make it better. Sitting and wallowing in your own self pity is only going to lead to one thing… You’re going to have a lot of snot and runny make up on your hands. And no one wants that.

My entire year of being 23 sort of felt like one big cry fest. But this last year I learned the power of surrounding yourself with the right people, staying focused on your goals (no matter how big or small) and learning to take one day at a time. Life is scary and hard and confusing at any age. While waiting in the airport last week, I had the pleasure of meeting a 15 year old that was also named Kate. She was a high school freshman, a cheerleader and dancer, and had one older sister and lived with her mom. So as you can imagine I really connected with her. I felt like I was talking to myself from the past. But hearing her talk about her life was seriously eye opening. I didn’t discredit a single one of her concerns because I remember thinking that similar things in my own at that age were absolutely WORLD ENDING.  But I was so happy that I was able to confidently tell her, that in 10 years, she is going to look back at all of those things and giggle. Because life only does one thing… it goes on. And you have to do anything you can to make the most of it.

So as I say goodbye to what has truly been one of the raddest years of my life, I hope to take with me everything I learned and even more hope that I passed on any advice/ fake wisdom to some of you.  I want to once again thank all of the people that read and shared my story, every “page view” I had on my Weebly account page filled me with more joy than you can possibly imagine. Stay tuned for the updated version of this blog that will hence worth be known as “Schwartz Story.” Where you will be able to read about all the sticky situations I regularly find myself in and refer to as my “Adult Lizzie McGuire moments.”

And just one more special thanks to my family and friends for being the best support system a girl could ask for. I experienced a lot of changes this year and I couldn’t have gotten through it all, let alone happily, without you.

Peace out, 24. Thank you for being everything I hoped for and needed you to be.

25, lets’ do this. 

So, apparently I am not as good at this blog updating thing as I hoped I would be. However, this time I actually have a good excuse as to why I haven’t had a chance to post. As previously mentioned I am currently part of the program Americorps NCCC Fema Corps and have dedicated 10 months of my life to community service and disaster preparedness/ relief. There have been a lot of ups and downs as you can imagine. Sometimes a lot more downs than ups. But the past week of my Amerilife has without a doubt been one of the most hectic, stressful and emotional week of my entire real life.

My team and I were finishing up our 2 ½ month project with the American Red Cross and just 2 weeks shy of our much needed midyear break. Plane tickets were purchased, vacations were planned…. Hopes were as high as you could possibly imagine. Until our last day working with the ARC Fresno chapter came and everything went awry. After 2, 10 hour days in a hot parking lot in 90 degree weather, spent washing cots and cleaning out ARC shelter trailers, FEMA Corps Team Gold One was hit with a blow we never saw coming. Our team leader informed us that instead of moving on to the next Red Cross chapter, we would be leaving the next morning to head back to our main campus in Sacramento, our team would be getting merged with a new team due to our lack of members and we would be deploying to the Texas Flood disaster in just 4 days. Meaning… we would not be going on break in two weeks as previously planned. And as quickly as my teammates and I locked eyes, is how quickly we all “lost our shit” as we keep calling it.

Now don’t get me wrong, I know that this deployment is 100% what I signed up for when I joined a program partnered with FEMA. I want nothing more than to go and help these people that have lost pretty much everything. But saying the timing is less than ideal would be an understatement. I quickly imagined the hole in my bank account that would be left by the $500 plane ticket I would now not be using. I could already hear the disappointment in my grandparents’ voices when I tell them the news resonating in my head. I thought of the much needed time with my mom, sister and friends that I would now not be getting as soon as I had hoped. I’m still pretty convinced that every tear my teammates and I tried to hold in throughout the course of our very challenging first round all came out that afternoon.

So we finished up our work, bid farewell to our amazing Red Cross coworkers and rushed to our hotel to pack up what we thought we had 2 weeks to take care of in just one night. We arrived to campus the next day, met our new teammates and started preparing for the days ahead. Briefings, debriefings, packing, presentations, airline phone calls, van cleanings… the weekend was not going to be fun. But I convinced myself every morning that all I can do it take a deep breath and give it my all. The worst was over, I would tell myself.

But word to the wise, never convince yourself that the worst is COMPLETELY over because you really have no idea what is coming around the corner. On Saturday morning, I was informed that one of my best friends in the entire world decided to end her time with the program. I knew she had been thinking about it for quite some time, but I never really prepared myself for it actually happening. So not only was I going to be missing out on seeing my long lost FEMA Corps friends that have been scattered across the country during our program’s transition period, or going home to see my family, friends, dog etc… I wasn’t even going to have my other half with me to keep me sane during the next unknown number of weeks of chaos. (I know she is reading this and probably getting a little upset so I just want to make it clear that although I hate her for ditching me… I love her and support her decision and will be there for her both inside and outside of the Ameribubble).

So as you can tell, it has been a pretty busy week. I think getting ready to go “save people’s lives”, as one friend keeps telling me, excuses me from a blog post or two. I am actually writing this blog in the back of my new 15 passenger van with my new teammates and one old teammate (that I could not live without at this point) driving across the country to Austin, TX. We are currently driving through Arizona and should arrive in Austin on Thursday. We then will begin 2 weeks of 12 hour days working as Individual Assistants to aid those that have had their homes damaged or completely destroyed by the floods. Pretty heavy, right? Yea, I know.

But as much as the heaviness of the last few weeks has been weighing on my physical and emotional state, I can still genuinely say that I happy with and proud of my decision to stick this program out. I haven’t thought about going home very often, but the amount of nonsense my old team and I had to go through definitely kept the idea in the back of my head. But I was recently reminded that even though things out here haven’t been as amazing as I try to make it look in pictures, I came to this  program for a reason. I came here to make a difference in the lives of others and my own life along with way. I was reminded of how badly these people I am driving to need my help and that if I wasn’t here, I would probably still be sitting in a cubicle that made me hate my life wondering what the rest of the world has to offer me. And even if what I find isn’t exactly what I expected, it is an experience none the less that I will remember and appreciate it for the rest of my life.

I know that there is a pretty solid chance that this year is only going to get more difficult from here. But I also know that I have gone through some really, really terrible times in the past and somehow managed to make it out alive. In the grand scheme of life, this year is nothing. It is ONE YEAR. And at the end of it, I will get to walk away from this year a happier, more mature and over all better person that the person I was when I started it. I may be bumped, bruised and emotionally drained… but better.

I just want to take a second to thank all the people that I have called, texted, and cried to over the last few days. Between my mom, sister, home friends, FEMA friends and many more, I couldn’t have felt more loved and cared about. They have helped take my level of terror over the upcoming weeks from a solid 15 out of 10 back down to at least a 6 or 7. And if you know me even a little bit, that’s a pretty big deal.


Stay tuned for more updates on my latest adventure in NCCC Fema Corps. I really will try to be more diligent about my blog updating.



Look out Texas, here we come.

First of all I would like to apologize for how sporadically I have been updating this blog. I know when most people think of moving out to California they think of beaches, movie stars, adorable outfits and overall independence. But I have not quiet had the leisure most think of. My usual 63 hour work weeks haven’t left a lot of time for emotional sharing or blog updating.

As I mentioned in the previously, I am currently in the process of completing my 10 month term of service with AmeriCorps NCCC FEMA Corps. (By choice, I am not on parole or part of any disciplinary entity as some people may think when they hear the words “term of service”. Check it out at Serveayear.org)

Since the end of February, approximately 100 others and I have been training and working to aid in either disaster relief or preparedness. We have been working countless hours wearing combat boots and cargo pants, have seen an unexpected amount of Corps mates go home, and dealt with every obstacle from having the crappiest internet service to hotel rooms infested with ants and sleeping on the floor of moldy basements. People that we grew strangely close to in just month’s time have been scattered across the country in cities spanning from Sacramento and Seattle to Atlanta and Philadelphia.

My team, Gold One, has experienced an almost absurd amount of obstacles during the first round of our service year. Going from a team of 8 to a team of 3 in just a few months has definitely taken a toll on the remaining members’ morale. Whether it was for personal or disciplinary reasons, watching your team pretty much evaporate can definitely make you rethink your purpose somewhere. We move locations at least every two weeks… and although that sounds super exciting, it’s really not a lot of fun having to pack all of your stuff into a 15 passenger van 4 times a month. You don’t really get a chance to settle anywhere because the moment you feel comfortable it is time to move again.  

Currently, 3 other grown women and myself are sharing one hotel room that is actually meant for 3 people. (We know this by the amount of towels, toiletries, chairs… all signs point to the room being too small.) We have all pretty much come to the conclusion that as much as we all love and care about each other, having 4 girls in a room for an entire month is pretty much lethal. One mirror, 2 beds, minimal outlets for hair appliances. Like I said… lethal.

But with the many ill-fated situations my team and I have found ourselves in, there is one thing I can say we have gained that out weights all of our misfortune. And that thing is resilience. While cleaning out our van earlier this morning we came across our “Team Charter” that we made and signed almost 3 months ago during our training period. We stood there in disbelief staring at all the rules and standards we had set for ourselves, along with the signatures of all our former teammates. And although we all couldn’t help but experience an overwhelming feeling of defeat, I couldn’t help but feel a surprising amount of pride. Our situation may not have turned out the way we all wanted when we came out to California. But we followed our team charter to the best of our ability. We have given 100% effort, we have supported each other during dark times, we have been through it all. We have held ourselves and each other to a standard set by those that couldn’t even hold it themselves.

One of the points mentioned in our team charter was “taking things with a grain of salt”. Taking things for what they are, good or bad. And I can genuinely say that the 3 women I am now living with have pretty much mastered the art of taking something with a grain of salt. Today while moving hotels, we drove through some of the steepest mountains in California, with no guard rails, while a bike race was under way, in the pouring rain. That’s right, California is in a crippling drought, and the day we have the most dangerous drive, the skies open up. And why the road wasn’t closed for the bike race, we will never know. As one biker decided to daringly pass our oversized vehicle, we realized that most people would have seen the situation as the pathway to instant death. Most people would have coward at the thought of the adventure we were embarking on. And although we too figured we were about to face our certain demise, I don’t think I have ever laughed harder in my entire life.

Somehow the idea of rolling off the side of a mountain in a 15 passenger suddenly seemed equivalent to waking up in a new Bugatti. Because we have already dealt with so much crap in the past few months that taking this situation with a grain of salt was the only way we were going to make it out alive… literally.

With all the things that have gone wrong, I genuinely think I have seen it bring out the best in the people around me. (Sometimes the worst, but we can’t all keep it together all the time). So as we tackle this new obstacle of our less than ideal living conditions, we just have to think of these hotel rooms as a rainy, biker filled mountain that could lead to our untimely deaths. If we don’t take everything with a grain of salt, we might not make it out alive from here either!

Our team charter may have felt like it was all for nothing today but in reality it still is everything. It may not have kept everyone together but it kept together those willing to follow it. And if we keep building our resilience, giving 100%, supporting each other and finding humor in even the scariest things, I know that we can make it to the end of this program.

And on that note, I’m going to end this entry with another song. (I try my best to keep this thing entertaining.)

With all the time we spend together driving around; we have acquired a lot of “team songs”. But more than usual, I think this song really applies. This one goes out to you Gold One… my warriors!

I was trying to think of a funny, clever way to start off this latest blog entry. But the truth is, the following event is funny enough that it really doesn’t need an introduction.

After a long, hard day filled with phone calls, paper work and car washes, my team and I decided to find a new, ideal spot for our daily physical training. And for once we were successful. We wandered down across the cliffs and sand of Shoreline Park in Santa Barbara, CA and enjoyed the much needed fresh air.

My teammate Alexis and I decided to do some ab workouts on this gorgeous field overlooking the Pacific Ocean. And we were just starting to really get into our “ab pyramid” exercise we had found on Pinterest when was I was overcome by an unfortunate scent.

“Is it just me, or does it smell like serious dog poop?”  I said to Alexis.

Figuring that it was just me, we continue through our crunches. When we finish our reps I insist that the area we were in smelled terribly. When I came to the realization that it wasn’t the area that smelled… it was me.

That’s right. I didn’t just step in dog poop. I LAID in dog poop.

It was on my neck, my shoulder, in my hair… everywhere. I then proceeded to take off my shit covered shirt and, with the help of my fabulous friend, used the untainted parts to remove the remaining fecal matter from myself.  Alexis and I had to make the decision of telling this tale to everyone we ever came in contact with or to take it to our graves. Again, my friend truly is fabulous as most people I know probably would have tweeted or texted about it before I even had time to assess the situation. And as you can tell by this entry, I went with the first option.

After tossing my shirt into the trash and zipping my hoodie up as far as it could go I immediately called my sister to share my stool filled story.

“I don’t even know how I managed to do that,” I said to her. “It was like the littlest turd managed to make the biggest mess.”
“But isn't that the way life goes, Katie?”

And in my opinion, truer words have never been spoken.

Now I hope you realize that I don’t mean literally. But everyone has found themselves in situations where even the tiniest little “turd” ended up being an absolutely catastrophic disaster.

Maybe was a little white lie that you thought you would never have to deal with again. Until you find yourself carrying the same lie years later as it is now the basis of a relationship/ friendship/ reputation.

Maybe it was skipping “just one class” and you wind up missing the most important material before your upcoming final and end up failing the class or permanently destroying your GPA.

You get the point. So how are we supposed to deal with these situations that the universe somehow manages to blow completely out of control?

First of all, you need to do your best to see (or smell in my case) the warning signs as to when you’re getting yourself in too deep. For example, if I had stopped doing my crunches as soon as I thought I smelled dog poop, I probably wouldn't have ended up standing in the middle of a park in my sports bra being wiped down like a new born baby. If you think you are nearing the point of no return in your particular situation, it’s time to stop doing crunches.

Next, you need make an escape plan. The longer you stay in the turd, the messier it is going to get. Trust me. Try to find a way to eradicate yourself from the situation. Come clean about the lie, get back on track as hard you can with your grades. As hard as it will be to admit that you let what seemed like simply mistake spiral out of your control, it will be a whole lot easier than continuing on with what you have created. It will also be a whole easier than dealing with the aftermath of not coming clean sooner rather than “too later”.

And finally, you just have to laugh. When your life seems to be escalating to a new level of chaos and you can’t seem to get a grip on anything, it doesn't hurt to laugh at the shit that is surrounding you.  Laugh at the thoughts of the “shoulda, coulda, woulda”s because the truth is that all the dwelling isn't going to make those thoughts go away. You can’t go back and fix all the “shoulda, coulda, woulda”s because whether you like it or not, you are where you are. You made a mistake, it got out of control and now you have to deal with it. But laughing a little bit during the process at least helps you see the light at the end of the tunnel, or in my case, the shower waiting for me back at my hotel. Don’t be afraid to share your situation with others, write it in a journal or even post it on your blog. Because you’re not the only one out there that is dealing with whatever you’re dealing with. And if you can’t find some humor in it, odds are someone else out there will be able to lend a hand. It may not seem like it but there really is a bright side of everything. There really is light at the end of the tunnel, even if it is barely visible. Laughter will only help make that light a little bit brighter.

And if you really have nothing to laugh at, just think about that girl whose blog you just read, laying in a pile of poop.

For your enjoyment, I have attached the following compilation of one my favorite jokes from one of my favorite shows to convey to you exactly how I felt earlier today. And how I’m sure we have all felt at one time or another. 

As some of you may know, about 2 months ago I traded my monotonous East Coast life for the adventure of a lifetime in California with Americorps NCCC, FEMA Corps. I bid farewell to my mom, sister, grandparents and friends knowing full well that my way of life would be forever changed upon boarding a plane to what I saw as freedom. I knew that when I eventually went home things wouldn’t be the same. And although the thought of that scared me more than most things I have ever encountered only one thought scared me even more. I wouldn’t be the same either.

Before heading out to the Golden Coast, I had lunch with a very new, but very dear friend of mine. After only knowing each other a few months, from serving beers at basketball games together, she ended up being one of the biggest supporters of my upcoming adventure and lent me some knowledge she picked up during her tour in the military.

(Note: I in no way can compare my time in AmeriCorps to her time in the Army. It is in no way the same thing. So I appreciate this advice and admire this friend even more for even granting me a comparison.)

Anyway, she told me that the hardest part of my trip is going to be realizing that there is a good chance some of the people I am leaving behind may not be there when I get back. My relationships with people I love and care about the most may either be completely different or even nonexistent. And within the first two months of my trip, I have learned that my friend was painfully correct.

It is amazing what watching your life change from 3,000 miles away can do to a person. Feelings of resentment, anger and disappointment swirl around the realization that people you thought you relied on so strongly could just move on so quickly without you. The confusion of how relationships you were staking everything on could essentially evaporate right before your eyes. But what is even more confusing… is the feeling of relief.

It is one thing to feel sad about the end of a relationship. It is natural to miss the better days filled with endless, stupid jokes that no one would find funny but you.  It is normal to think about all the times you just wanted to be factored into someone’s life in even the slightest way and thinking that one day everything would turn out right. But what isn’t super normal, at least for me anyway, is coming to terms that those better days have long passed and the life you hoped for is never going to happen.

Within the last few years I have found myself feeling lost in so many relationships that I couldn't even find me anymore. I was always trying to make everyone else happy that I forgot what actually made me happy. Even the simplest decisions, including everything from “Should I watch another episode without them?” to “How much shit will they talk if I dye my hair this color?” ate away at my every fiber until I pretty much had nothing left. I even avoided suggesting music choices during car rides, pre games or whatever out of fear that the thing that made me feel the most like myself would be rejected. Yet I held on to these relationships so hard because I felt that if they were gone, I really would have nothing. I would be nothing.

I can’t say that I don’t feel that way from time to time, even as I see these relationships fade off into the distance. Even getting an ear piercing last week felt like I was deciding on buying a 5 bedroom home without the approval of those I usually seek it from. But knowing that I have the chance to think and feel for myself, for the first time in a long time, was worth the sappy feelings that came with it.

So what happens when you find out the people you thought you could entrust your entire being to turn out to not be so trustworthy after all?  You learn the art of trusting strangers.

I know that at our age the idea of making new friends seems either pointless or just downright impossible. Making friends isn’t like it used to be. I met one of my best friends on earth on the first day of kindergarten because we realized that we both liked Blue’s Clues. But at 24, it isn’t so simple. Everyone has such hidden inhibitions or such deep seeded trust issues that they become an entirely different person just so they can fit the criteria of what they think other people want. This may not be the case for all, but I know my own life is filled with such cynicism that a simple smile can be taken as “why the hell did she just smile at me?”

But the truth is that without letting yourself trust some of the strangers that come into your life, you may never get to feel what the true meaning of trust is. And on the first day of my new life in Americorps, I realized I had to make a choice. I could stay the same scared and desperate person I had turned into. Or I could take a deep breath, and trust these strangers that were coming into my life.

I thankfully made the right choice because within the past 2 months I have met strangers that I don’t deserve to have in my life. These strangers have helped me remember what it even feels like to be Kate Schwartz. They reminded me of qualities I had completely forgotten I had. I don’t want to speak for these strangers, but it seems that each of our own personal broken lives have somehow become the missing pieces we all needed. If I hadn’t decided to be more trusting of the strangers around me I wouldn’t have the previously mentioned ear piercing. I wouldn’t currently be sitting in a hotel room trying to fish out the broken nacho pieces a stranger and I had spilled into our laundry. If I hadn’t learned to be more trusting, I would never have met the person that inspired this blog entry. I would still be the scared and desperate person I slowly grew to hate. The person I couldn’t even stand to look at in the mirror.

So within such a short time I have already come to terms with some of the biggest fears I had about moving away from home. The people I left behind are different. They have moved on to new lives, new cities and new opportunities. But I am not the same either. And I am, for the first time in a while, not disgusted with the person I am. It is hard to believe I was afraid of what ended up bringing me such peace.

Now I realize that being more trusting does not always result in the life I am currently leading. Being more trusting can also lead to a lot of misguided decisions and what feels like a lot of unfulfilled futures. But you will never even be able to imagine what a fulfilled future looks like if it is filled with people that turn you into a person you can’t stand the sight of. Just because you’re a grown up doesn’t mean there aren’t people out there you can find a connection with and start fresh with. You don’t have to settle with the thought of eternal unhappiness just because you are afraid of what you may encounter on the road to true happiness. Trust truly is an art. And I hope that with this coming of age, I will learn to leave behind those impeding the future that really is meant to be. And that this art of trust is an art I will come to master. 


Shout out to Ms. Kelsey Paton for reminding me how much I like this song and how fitting it is for this entry.