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. 

I remember this day one year ago exceptionally well. I realize that isn’t too hard to believe seeing that most people remember their birthdays to some extent, even when alcohol is involved. But this birthday was different. It felt different before it even started. As most of my friends can tell you, I love birthdays. Not even my own, but I think it as everyone’s own personal New Year. That being said, I am NOT a believer in wearing a crown or sash on your birthday unless you are 10, 16, 21 or 50. All the years in between are just not on the same level of importance. Though celebrations are deserved, there is something to be said for subtlety.

Anyway… the idea of starting a new year of your life always felt so cleansing to me. I remember sitting in the living room of my mom’s house, with my beautiful puppy lying next to me thinking “Wow, being 22 was so awesome; I can’t wait to be 23!” I posted a long mushy Face Book status about how lucky I was to have graduated college and get a job that I loved right off the bat. About how I was proud of myself for the life choices I had made that year and how I was finally on the road to being happy.

Well wasn’t that quite the jinx? Within about 12 hours of posting that status I awoke to find the Phillies game I had requested off from work for had been rained out and a phone call from one of my coworkers telling me that we had all just been laid off. Happy birthday, right? As the day went on and I waited for some valiant friends to race to my rescue in the pouring rain, all of the “Happy Birthday, I’m sorry about your job” well wished started to come in. And it was with those first few well wishes that I realized that was going to be the theme for my now 24th year on earth. With those well wishes, the personal New Year seemed a whole lot less bright. And the fresh start I was hoping for, seemed a lot farther away.

“Happy Birthday, I’m sorry”.

That’s a funny statement right? Something so cheerful followed by something so sad? It’s a well intended statement meant only to help me feel better and offer some condolences of my misfortune. But really just reminds me that the misfortune is there. And granted, that day ended up not being completely so horrible. Getting whisked away for some margaritas by some amazing people and hearing from friends I genuinely never thought I’d hear from again definitely helped silence my exceptionally depressing thoughts that day. Also, my company couldn’t make up its mine so I was at least able to spend a few more months slacking off and getting paid for it. But starting from that day, my life kind of just started to plummet into a downward spiral. With a lot of misleading pick ups along the way. With every “happy moment” I experienced, an ominous dark cloud of despair seemed not too far around the corner. As the months passed I saw co worker after co worker get news jobs, find cooler experiences and move on with their lives. I went on numerous job interviews that were either nothing that I wanted, were completely unrealistic or in one instance...  not even real. (Yes, I was dooped into interviewing for a Pyramid Scheme. Not one of my proudest days.) I started sabotaging relationships I had worked so hard to hold on to just to grasp at ones that I wasn’t even sure I was meant to be in anymore. And even when I finally got a new job that I was super stoked to jump into, I found myself trapped in a basement with nothing but moldy ceilings, a computer and my thoughts. Which as most people would agree is dangerous in so many ways.

I spent my days thinking about how much I missed my old work friends and what I would give to be laughing my ass off at our lunch table talking about the crazy companies my we had written about that day. I thought about having entire conversations with one another that involved nothing more than a glance. I thought about all of the poor life choices I had made the weekend before and what relationships I had somehow managed to destroy. I thought about how although I really didn’t care about all the magnets, pens and other meaningless products I concentrated on for 8 hours a day, they would somehow make it into my dreams at night. But mostly, I thought about how it would feel to get out.


“Just get out of your chair, leave your cell phone behind, and get the hell out of this place,” I thought quite frequently. The idea of leaving the stress, obligations and heart break that I couldn’t get away from seemed absolutely surreal. I could never. I would never. But for my own good, I had to.

So here I am, 365 days later and 2,726.2 miles away from all those stresses, obligations and heart break in Bakersfield, CA. I am sitting in what is the kitchen, bedroom and living room of the Extended Stay America where I have been living for the past 2 weeks. My own personal New Year has arrived yet again. It is honestly amazing to me how fast this year has gone. It feels like yesterday that I was making that mushy FaceBook status, filled with optimism. And oddly enough, despite the personal hell that I went through in the last year, I somehow feel that way again? How was it possible that despite all the tears and disappointment of the last year, I managed to not only make it out alive, but actually get to a place in life that I WANT to be? I am still not sure of the answer. But throughout this upcoming year, I would like to take you with me in recounting the events that make will surely make what is now my “Mid 20s” filled with both hopefulness and confusion. And in doing so, I want to share in the emotions of those feeling the same hopefulness and confusion that I am. Being 24 is weird. You’re not really “young” anymore but with the changes in this generation, you’re really not “old” yet either. This year I want to find that balance. The balance I’ve been searching for long before this past year even began. I hope to find out who I am and who I want to be from here on. I hope that you will join me in my very bumpy, very sarcastic and very interesting journey. I’ll do my best not to bore you along the way.