Finding Home on the Hilltop

Just three weeks ago I was longing for the end of finals and my return to the 401. Now, after nearly a month in Rhode Island, I am ready to make my return to the Hilltop and begin the spring semester of my junior year. As much as I enjoy spending time with my family and friends in R.I., Georgetown has become just as much as a home for me.

Although I keep procrastinating the packing necessary for my “homecoming,” I am very excited to get back to campus and see my second family. This past semester particularly I established such strong friendships, and  I love my friends as if they were blood. But while my family in RI is happy that I am comfortable and in love with Georgetown, there is slight resentment anytime I reference the Hilltop as “home.” Even after only one semester, I was getting in trouble from my mom for dropping the “h” word when talking about Georgetown. After one such lecture, I wrote a reflective piece about finding my place at the university, later published as a viewpoint for the Georgetown HOYA. While I wrote the piece after my first semester, it still rings true, if not even more so.

Resolved: 2012

I am very much a list person. To-do lists, shopping lists, bucket lists; you name it, I list it. Oftentimes in the mornings I will sit down with a pen and notebook and make lists of all the things I aim to accomplish during the day. Other times, I will write up lists of things I need to remember. I credit this somewhat obsessive, hyper organized habit to my gold personality.

Wait, what? Gold? What does that mean? Let me explain.

2011: A Year in Review

Dear readers,

Are you there?  It’s me, Bethany.

I know it has been nearly five months since I sat down to blog, and there really is no excuse for it. These past five months have been some of the most challenging, amazing and rewarding times in my life, but writing that does little to relieve the fact that I did not share these experiences. Although I did contribute to the food blogging world with my posts for Small Kitchen College, I failed to keep up-to-date on my own personal blog. This failure is something I resolve to change in 2012.

No Ferragosto for Me

Can someone please tell me where the time went?

It seems like only yesterday the calendar turned to the year 2011, and then suddenly I woke up on Monday morning to the realization that it was August 1^st. Surely the summer cannot be almost over?

The Magnificence of the Capital

We all know I like to drop in on other people’s conversations to listen in on some aspect of their lives. While some exchanges are more interesting than others, a recent conversation overheard at a D.C. café made me pause and take notice.

After visiting one of the city’s museums, I stopped into a nearby bakery for an afternoon pick-me-up. As I took a seat in one of the chairs outside, I overheard the foreign accents of three girls at a table nearby. Although I could not identify their nationality, the subject of their conversation made it clear that they were foreign tourists visiting our nation’s capital.

Having a Relationship with my Pizza

There is scene in the film Eat, Pray, Love when Julia Roberts’ character Elizabeth makes a pilgrimage to Naples to indulge in the staple of Neapolitan cuisine: pizza. Sitting at a communal table with a whole pizza to herself, she …

Screaming [and Sweating] for Ice Cream

I knew the instant I walked out of my apartment this morning that today was going to be a long day. After waking up to my early morning alarm and grabbing my gym bag, I headed out the door ready …

How my Suitemate is Making Me Fat

I have a unique problem. It is a problem that many people might not even think worth worrying about it. Considering the condition of my apartment and my “fifth” roommate, one might wonder what other concerns I could possibly have. …

Overhearing the World’s Words

I have a guilty pleasure. While for some it might be late night trips to the freezer for dates with their favorite guys Ben and Jerry or eating enough raw cookie dough equivalent to half a dozen cookies, my guilty pleasure has nothing to do with food. Instead, I get a tremendous amount of satisfaction and pleasure out of listening in on other people’s conversations and raising my eyebrows at the ridiculous things I overhear.

My First Kitchen[s]

Julia Child's Cambridge, MA Kitchen

Some girls dream about their first house with a white picket fence, a large yard for the dog and the kids to run around, and a front porch complete with a rocking chair. While this image seems absolutely wonderful, my idea of my first home is very different. For me, images of a fence or a yard or a porch do not cross my mind. Instead, my dream home is based around what my kitchen would like.

When I was a little girl one of my favorite “toys” was my play kitchen. Though it was relatively simple compared to the ones today with battery-powered microwaves, light fixtures, and ovens that chime, I adored everything about it. I could spend hours placing plastic fruit in the blender for “smoothies” or flipping “eggs” in the fry pan to serve my dolls for breakfast. Playing in the kitchen, I felt like a mother, the person the family could rely on to literally put food on the table. Perhaps an early sign of my future love of cooking, those moments with that kitchen are some of my favorite memories of childhood.