What’s the W.O.P?

Scrolling through my music, which is a hard task in itself (God only knows what random stuff you’ll find), my friends come across my W.O.P playlist. “What’s The W.O.P?” They ask with such wonder. “The W.O.P,” I reply with glee, “is my Work Out Playlist.” I  found it too difficult to write out work out playlist if I’m on the move so I shortened it to The W.O. P.

As an athlete choosing what goes into a W.O.P is very tedious…Okay not really, but it definitely is important what gets chosen to get me through my hour plus workouts. Whether its a circuit workout with Courtney, physical therapy, or the long trek on a treadmill or track I need something with enough power and endurance to prep and push me through the hard parts. I first breakdown the playlist into four fabulous sections, The Warmup, The Starters, The Pick-Me-Ups, and The Power Finish.

The Warmup– Something smooth and upbeat to get you in the mood. You can’t just start a work out all willy nilly.

Shall We Dance– Yul Brynner and Deborah Kerr  (Legs meet treadmill, arms meet bench press)

Holding onto YouHouse of Gold– twenty one pilots (mood determines which song plays)

The Starters– Here is where you start to pick up speed. Drop that Bass!

Acapella– Karmin

Work– Iggy Azalea

The Pickme Ups– You’re now in the thick of it. Sweat is dripping off your face, your legs are cramping, you may or may not be able to smell yourself by now (yummy). Here are the ones that keep you going.

Still Alive– BIGBANG (the title says it all)

Till I Collapse– Eminem

This is Gospel– Panic! At The Disco

The Power Finish– Only 5 more minutes left you gotta go big or go home. These are the final two jams to get you through your sprinting finish.

Clarity– Zedd

Trouble– Neon Jungle

You’ve gotten a sneak peak at my work out playlist. What would you put on your W.O.P?

To be continued…

Application Process: The Art of Rejection

After enduring the college application process the word “application” can strike fear into anyone’s heart. The moment that hangs in the air when you get an email or letter in the mail with the words ‘yes’ or ‘no’ is both agonizing and euphoric. Despite hearing more no’s than yes’s in my career at Bryn Mawr I have to admit I am still a glutton for punishment. In my experience with the word “no” I have come to terms with what I call “The Stages of Rejection”.

The stages of rejection are broken down into six easy steps.


It’s here! I have received the letter for that important thing from that place I really want to go to!


Oh my good shenanigans… this is the letter for that important thing from that place you really want to go to. Should I open it? I’ll go get my friend to open it. No I’ll open it.


“We regret to inform you…” Huh. Well. Uh…


Forget them! I don’t need them. Whatever, screw you and your awesome perks! I don’t need you!


WAHHH. Why don’t they want me? WHYYYY?! **eats entire pizza**

6) Acceptance

Well that happened. My next application is due in a couple weeks time to get started.  

I have applied to over a hundred jobs, 15 grants, even a library card, and I have endured each of these stages of rejection. With each disapproval comes a little twinge of doubt and despair that can only happen with rejection. In order to combat this I always turn to one my favorite books, Other Peoples Rejection Letters by Bill Shapiro.

This book is an amazing compilation of, you guessed it, other people’s rejection letters. The relationship between this book and I isn’t completely based on schadenfreude. The compilation of letters range from children’s notes, book reviews, college letters, and more. It also tells you what happened after each recipient received the rejection letter.

IMG_0092                          IMG_0093


Each letter, whether it is comical or emotional, was a bump in the road for someone. Artist Arthur Gonzalez, whose rejection letters are scattered throughout the book, took the final stage of rejection (acceptance) to the next level. Tired of hearing “no” he transformed his letters into works of art, which were then transformed into the Art of Rejection Collection. The collection was finally accepted into a gallery. Although the pieces of art were originally never meant to be seen by the public eye, his numerous rejection letters never stopped him from continuing his craft.  

Every time I get a big fat “No”, “We regret to inform you”,”You were good, but not good enough”, and my favorite “You’re just too overqualified”, I read these letters and they remind me to keep trying. The only true failure in a rejection letter is when you stop trying. You have to keep moving forward. That is the real art of rejection. 

“The world ain’t all sunshine and rainbows. It’s a very mean and nasty place, and I don’t care how tough you are, it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain’t about how hard you hit. It’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward; how much you can take and keep moving forward. That’s how winning is done!”- Rocky Balboa


To be continued…


I am an English Major

When you come to college it is an open playground. I was told to explore my surroundings and expand my comfort zone in the academic world. However, when hearing this as a freshman I couldn’t help but laugh. I knew for a fact I was going to be a Psychology major. I was going to be the best in my field with a Ph.D and making so much money I would have no idea what to do with it. After shopping my first Psychology class I was thoroughly mistaken. In the end, if you read the title of this blog, I became an English Major.

As an English major, more often than I would like to, I hear the same thing; “Oh…that’s nice,” followed by “So, what are you going to do with that?” Usually I retort back with “Professional hobo.” Which is then followed by the obligatory cocktail dinner party giggle (something President Obama has taken part in with other Humanity Majors).


Over the summer I came across an article that I only understood until now. It was so greatly titled The Decline and Fall of the English Major.  I recommend that before reading the rest of this post you read the actual article, but if that is too much to ask I’ll give you the gist of it. Basically the author, Verlyn Klinkenborg, explores the reason why there has been a major decline in English majors in college. More students are now majoring in political science, economics, and mathematics. It is based in the idea that there really is no use for the study of literature anymore. It seems as though English majors have the same problem as athletics do on this campus. It won’t necessarily pay off your student debt and the advertisement is lacking.

However, as the author perfectly put, “What is an English major good for? In a way, the best answer has always been, wait and see…Former English majors turn up almost anywhere, in almost any career, and they nearly always bring with them a rich sense of the possibilities of language, literary and otherwise.”

It is an answer that most English majors come to terms with. In a sense I have come to acceptance and actual exercise of this answer both in my classes at Bryn Mawr and in the “real world.” There has never been a career that is specifically designated for an English major which is both a blessing and a curse. No, there will never be job security as a writer. Sadly, I can’t perform open heart surgery with the brilliant words of Walt Whitman. Despite my best efforts I will never be able to understand the inner workings of my own Mac computer, let alone build one from the ground up. But after exploring political expression in short fiction to understanding the just how rebellious authors can be in texts like The Portrait of Dorian Grey and The House of Seven Gables, the words take on more than a narrative. The literature fills your head with countless lifetimes and professions. And on the more comical side, I will never forget one of my professors telling me something along the lines of, “There isn’t a better feeling than insulting someone with literature. You just ooze with wit.”

The point of an English degree isn’t just to read novels and poetry. It is meant to explore the world through language. Articulation is probably the best piece of education any college can give you. So when I graduate in four months with my degree of wit and skill of literary expression, I can proudly say I was an English major.

“No one has found a way to put a dollar sign on this kind of literacy, and I doubt anyone ever will. But everyone who possesses it — no matter how or when it was acquired — knows that it is a rare and precious inheritance.”- Verlyn Klinkenborg

To be continued…


Bikram and Hillary

It’s been 11 days since Hillary Rodham Clinton gave her address to the Women in Public Serve Project Institute. After waiting in the stand-by line for two hours I was able to snag a seat and listen to her speech about women empowerment. It has been 10 days since I’ve started practicing Bikram Yoga. After today’s class I have realized what these two have in common.

For the past 10 days I wake up at 6:30am to drive to my 7am yoga class. I sign in, drop my bag off at the locker room, and brace myself for the hot and humid studio. Every day I sit in the back corner of the class and try not to embarrass or injure myself with any of the poses. Mid-class I stared at the clock during each pose trying to grip my slipping hands together. Practicing alongside calm and collected yogi pros while you flail around is enough to make you feel inadequate. Falling out of half the poses I began to think about things outside of class, basically a giant anti-meditation session, triggering a quarter-life crisis.

During the savasana pose, lying flat on your back facing the back wall, I saw for the first time that there were 6 words painted on the back wall. Looking up at the wall, the words Faith and Determination we staring back at me. In the midst of my quarter life crisis I cracked a smile. Faith and Determination. Two of the most cliché words for a person to hear, but at a moment like this one two very necessary ones.

They reminded me of Hillary Clinton’s Address in Thomas Great Hall. She said two things that really resonated with me. By participating in the institute she stated that ,”we lay down a marker that in a world of injustice we can do better.” Throughout her talk she discussed the ideas of passion and perseverance in becoming a true leader and what the word actually means. In order to obtain these goals that she has envisioned for the various women in leaders in the room that day it is necessary to keep faith  and determination in these projects despite the endless stream of uphill battles.”We need leaders who say no to business as usual.”

After thinking about her inspiring words and the words that kept giving me the eye on the back wall, I realized that 1. There are way bigger problems in the world than a bad 90 minute yoga session, and 2. If I just keep a lot of faith and determination I can do anything, including finish this session on a good note.

Bikram Yoga and Hillary Clinton gave me a great lesson that I just now have come to understand. In order to obtain goals, however small or large, you need to focus on becoming a better you rather than the experience or tradition of others. Once you have achieved that, the world is yours.

To be continued…

TL;DR: Faith and Determination are two things that Hillary Clinton and Bikram Yoga have in common. They can help you get through a yoga session or achieve World Domination!


On a lighter note from the previous shenanigans I wanted to say a quick update. With my new leaf of productiveness and accountability I will be posting throughout the summer! Topics will include: The Apartment Adventures of Karina and Lindsey, Food: is that even edible?, and of course KPOP tons and tons of KPOP! Keep an eye out and Good Luck with Finals!!!


To be continued…

Accountability: A Reflection from My Inner Slacker

Today is Wednesday. As the semester comes to a close and we become knee deep in finals review, I started to review my blog posts.  There is no lie there is a definite lapse in posting dates (that and the constant reminder from Karina…she just reminded me 2 minutes ago). I also have begun to see a serious slack in my class participation and overall involvement in my extra-curricular activities.

Another thing to know about me is that I proud to say that I am a dreamer at heart. The terrible additive that comes with being a dreamer is I am also part slacker (ok half…okay maybe 3/4). In between lectures, discussions, dinner dates, and athletic practices I LOVE to procrastinate. I mean hell I even wrote a blog post about it. This could mean doing anything on that list or simply daydreaming with doodles and scraps for my “dream” (see what I did there) of a famous screenplay or novel…hopefully…maybe. And being the dreamer that I am, and Karina can vouch for me, I like to plan things. And sometimes my plans can actually get in the way of being productive. While busy dreaming up my wonderful future life of world travels, film festivals, and creating/accepting “OMG we should totally do that” projects I become overwhelmed and ultimately push them to the back of my to-do list to dream and dream some more. Come to think of it I also push a lot of readings to the back of my to-do list.


Just think of all the possibilities!!!

Basically before I start to ramble anymore what I mean to say is this- although dreaming is awesome and I wish people would do it more often, there is a time and space for procrastination. As I start planning for my senior thesis (eeek!) I remember all those readings that I would “read later” and all of those class discussion I spent more time daydreaming than discussing. College is a prime opportunity where you sit a room after reading a piece of text or seeing a film and discuss it with people who are just as passionate as you are. And even if you have the one person who comes to class to roll their eyes at every topic or the other person who shoots down your ideas everyone at one point everyone has a new opinion; or even better a new perspective.

Accountability is a way to define respect not only for the subject or topic, but your own growth as student, intellectual, and, in general, a thing inhabiting the planet. From turning a paper in on time to telling your friend to meet at a specific time (Bryn Mawr Time: break the bond while you can) produces a physical manifestation of respect. As we inch closer and closer to summer or in the seniors’ cases the “real world” you have to think about what this means for future jobs and internships or, in my case, when you still don’t have one? A dream can only get so far before you need put on your productive pants and get going no matter the position you are in.

I also understand that it is ironic that I’m talking about accountability as I am procrastinating writing this blog post instead of one of my final papers due on Friday. HOWEVER, I do have to say that after this momentary relapse I am turning a new leaf come summer.

To be continued…

TL;DR-Accountability is a fancy word for respect. A dreamer/ part slacker like me needs to be reminded of that every once in a while.

The Importance of a Shoe

This Monday (a.k.a in 3 hours) marks a momentous occasion. It is my 21st birthday. Now understandably no one other than myself and (hopefully) a few friends actually care about this situation. However, as I was shopping for a birthday outfit I came upon a rather startling fact. I, Lindsey Crowe, will be unable, for the the first time in my life, unable to wear high heels. Oh the horror!

If there is one thing that people notice about me it is definitely my height. Standing at a whopping 5 feet and 10 inches I pretty much overlook everyone in my friend group and my entire family. Yet, despite my already wonderful height I still choose to wear 4-5 inch heeled pumps placing me over 6 feet tall. And I love the feeling they give me as I strut around a room (even if it is my own). Unfortunately, this past December I had ACL reconstruction surgery from a previous injury which hinders my ability to wear anything but sneakers or flats. Forgetful little me didn’t remember this as I was purchasing the cutest pair of red mary-janes (pictured below) at the local thrift shop.

Don't they just scream "Wear me!"

Don’t they just scream “Wear me!”


I was ricocheted back to my Junior Prom when my date told me I couldn’t wear heels cause I would be taller than him (complete regret by the way). I asked my friend if maybe… just this once… I could wear heels that would be okay, right? I tried to argue my way out of it but she immediately shot me down with the Terry Face. I would have to decide between boots,flats, or sneakers.

After a trip to King of Prussia Mall my good ol’ friend Karina had bought a gorgeous pair of pink Enzo Angiolini peep toe pumps while I shopped for boots. In comparison I would’ve taken the pumps in a heartbeat, but I loved the way the boots looked. I felt powerful much like the way I feel in my pumps. As the day looms closer I have started to realize that it isn’t about the look of the shoe or the height in the heel, but how you feel when you wear them. Placing your foot into a Coach black bootie or a wicked pair of neon Vans sneakers can transform you from Beyonce to Sasha Fierce.

My dream pair of Jimmy Choos...if only they weren't $600 YIKES!

My dream pair of Jimmy Choos…if only they weren’t $600 YIKES!

In the words of Bette Middler “give a girl the right pair of shoes and she can conquer the world”.  So when Monday rolls around I will be trading in my pumps for my trusty gold flats. But no matter, I’ll still be strutting around Rittenhouse Square even if I am lacking a few inches.


Love these babies!


I Am…Lindsey Crowe

To be continued…

Shoes are amazing. They can give you that extra boost you need for the day and I have a severe obsession with them. =)


When Dance Moves Go Bad

I recently pulled my hamstring. Now this isn’t breaking news, I know, but bear with me.  As a Bryn Mawr athlete you have two options when you become injured 1) Tell Terry the athletic trainer or 2) wallow in pain until it goes away or gets worse. For the untrained eye the decision is simple, option one obviously. Which is true, unless there is a story behind the injury.

After this weekend I decided to take stock of how my list of pulled muscles have happened and trust me these weren’t my shining moments. Freshman year as we crashed the International Dance I decided to show off my moves and drop it like it was hot. Injury: Pulled Groin. Sophomore year during a dorm room dance party I wanted to wave my luscious locks and whip my hair back and forth. Injury: Whiplash. And last but not least this weekend Lil Jon and the Eastside boys told me to touch my toes so I obliged. Injury: Pulled Hamstring. Other stories of unforeseen tales of other athletes include losing a fight to a vending machine for pretzels-injured knee and kicking a girl in the calf resulting in a broken toe.

Trust me I definitely thought about changing my story, but I couldn’t think of anything…literally. So, with each injury I had trudge down to the training room look Terry in the eye and recount my tragic tales. And every time I received some of the many faces of Terry. First there was the “Seriously” face, which is easy to spot as he says “seriously” with a raised eyebrow. Then the “Again” face- the disapproving head shake with closed eyes. And, my personal favorite, the “I-Can’t-Even-Handle-You-Right-Now” face- hand pressed against the forehead and temples, other arm crossed over torso, and a sigh.

So as a public service announcement to those dancing fiends out there, stretch a little before hitting the dance floor.  It could be the one thing standing between you and many embarrassing “oh remember that time when…” moments.

To be continued

Hell Week Blues

This week I have the Hell Week Blues and by blues I mean so much sister class pride! Today class of 2016 ended the week long journey to becoming official Mawrters! I dusted off my old Hell Week schedule last weekend to pass down some tasks to my grand-hellees and got me reminiscing about my first Hell Week. I have to say the biggest accomplishment was finishing the duck pond run and not getting thrown in.

Soccer Frosh getting their schedules last Wednesday

For some people unfamiliar to it,  the idea of Hell Week can get lost in the throws of musical skits, marriage proposals, and proclamations of crimes against the campus (I loved K-pop too much), and even the title, Hell Week.  For the prospective students, parents, and alumnae that may read this I have found that though the tasks and traditions have evolved with the changing times and student life, the meaning remains the same. There is a moment that some may notice, but other will miss, and it is the quick smile of an alumnae recalling a distant memory of their own Hell Week as if it were yesterday. Whether you are an even or an odd we are all a part of the same family that have passed out tickets to a fake concert, proposed to that one professor, and sang our hearts out to that one song that was popular that one time. If there is ever a time in which love for Bryn Mawr is at its highest I will have to say Hell Week takes the cake.

No matter how much time passes Hell Week will forever remain a week of bonding that connects with past and future Mawrters. The perfect example of this is when I heard a teammate of mine call her alumnae mom and wish her a Happy Hell Week. This week is about a history that we will continue. We will pass down these traditions to keep Bryn Mawr the unique college we know and love.

So, class of 2016 I tip my hat to you. Congratulations, Happy Reconciliation Day, and Welcome Home.

“Remember tonight, for it is the beginning of always.” Dante Algihieri

To be continued…

Singing…I mean…Sitting in the Rain

As everyone is gearing up for the holiday season there is a thick layer of anxiety and stress that comes along with it. I am definitely the first one to scream “AHHH I’m so stressed!” at the top of my lungs come December (or any month for that matter). Finals, packing to go home, shopping for presents, and airport security are enough to make my head explode. However, in the midst of the study sessions and crammed shopping malls there is one thing that can make me stop for a second and breath. That beautiful thing is the rain.

After running around doing errands and shopping for a class tea in between my countless study sessions and meetings I parked my car outside of Denbeigh. I turned off the ignition and before I grabbed my bag to leave I stopped and listened. The mystic combination of rain water on metal sent chills up my spine. Not the creepy “great, I’m gonna die right now” chills , but the “oooh that’s good” kind of chills. I ended up sitting quietly in my car for about 30 minutes…just …listening. If it hadn’t had been for a friend of mine texting me to remind me to pick up my other friend from the airport I probably would have sat there all day.

Having the time to sit and think made me want to remind everyone that in this time of “ugh”s and “FML”s make some time to just sit and listen to Mother Nature at her best. And if you are in a part of the world lacking rain please click and enjoy.

To be continued…