Lana Maryé Morelli

The Olympics happens once every four years…well actually, once every two years because summer and winter alternate…but you know what I mean. Even if you’re not an avid watcher you cannot escape the headlines in the newspapers, the clips that pop up on the Internet or the TV in the restaurant and bar that is broadcasting the event. It draws you in and who can resist watching history in the making? What I think is interesting about the Olympics is that it is one of the few events where people identify and are proud to be American. As people, we tend to get caught-up in rooting for our favorite sports teams, colleges or universities, cities, even political parties. There are endless groups that we choose to associate ourselves with. Being “a part of” provides a sense of belonging to a certain category. When I lived in DC, I mockingly wore my hunter green jersey on Sunday’s in the Fall, during a Redskins game and proudly proclaimed, “I’m from Philly, I’m an Eagles Fan.” I was rooti

I am single and February 14th is two days away. Being that these are my circumstances, I’m sure many of you are expecting me to blog about how us singles are excluded and dejected on February 14th. Well that’s not going to happen. I, in no way, feel compelled to throw myself a pity-party-parade. I am single by choice, because I do not want to be in a relationship that I don’t believe whole-heartedly in. I am single because I believe that you need to get yourself together and figure yourself out before you can share it with anyone else. I am single because “cute and fun” are no longer deciding factors of what makes a good relationship. I don’t feel sorry for myself to admit that. I have bigger concerns than crying about how terribly sad it is to be alone on a “couples holiday”. Besides… I’m not alone ;) and this isn’t a couple’s holiday. Valentine’s Day, what I fondly referred to in my last entry, is a “Woman’s Holiday.” There is nothing coupled, shared or equal about it. At

This Sunday is the BIG DAY. The one all you guys and girls (who arefootball fans) have been waiting for…Super Bowl Sunday. It s an ironic juxtaposition that Super Bowl falls one week before Valentine’s Day . A M an’s Holiday - exactly seven days before the W omen’s Holiday . The Game before the Love… So is that how it works? Do we have to get through the Game to get to the Love? Well, that’s what the calendar is telling us! That’s how it works chronologically; the 7th must come before the 14th. There is just no way around it. So are these the same truths about dating and relationships? Do we have to get through all the games to get to the love? As we all know, Football is the epitome of a contact sport. Each game football players put on as much padding as possible to protect themselves from the impact they will inevitably face on the field. When we “play the field” in relationships, the game can be much more untamed and we are more exposed than any football player. Yet, we plunge

I ride the train to work and I noticed that in a train car full of people, you could hear a pin drop. At first I was surprised by this phenomenon, I expected that when so many people are crammed into a small space it would be noisy with lots of chatter. The exact opposite is true. The only noise is the “click clack” of the train along the tracks and hum of the electronic devices being accessed on the train. Palm Pilots, lap tops, iPods, blackberries, cell phones AND kindle/digital readers. People are... watching movies, checking Facebook, updating themselves on “breaking news” playing solitaire, listening to music AND reading books. The amount of information that we can hold in our hands is no longer constrained by the amount of weight we are willing to carry; but rather by the amount of memory space or speed of internet access on whatever electronic device we chose to operate. We are a generation of people who have perfected how to stay busy. This is where the downfall comes in. We we

I’ve been carrying a planner around since I was a freshman in high school and I was “required” to have one. I was 14, and telling me I had to do anything made me instantly want to do the opposite. Yet even through the haze of adolescent defiance, slowly but surely, I grew to love the planner. I carried it with me, inputting all of my activities. When I was uninterested in class I would pull out my beloved planner and flip through the pages. I found comfort in knowing that maybe I was bored to tears in biology but… Tomorrow would be a half day, OR In three weeks it would be Christmas break, OR Four months from now was officially prom season, OR This weekend it would be a friend’s birthday No matter how unexciting the class was, I knew I carried with me a happy distraction. My planner was always there as a little reminder that good things were in the future and there was always something to look forward to. Plus, the planner made me efficient and responsible. I could time-manage like a c

“Never, ever talk about religion and politics!” It’s the age-old faux pas. We’re warned of this anytime we go to a social event or outing. When we discuss religion and politics – things tend to get messy. So, don’t worry, I’m not going to blog about either (not yet anyway ). I’m just going to touch on the topic of an angel and a devil. Not in a particularly religious sense though… I’m talking about the fictitious devil and the angel that sits on our shoulders. The imaginary beings that attempt to simultaneously guide us and/or confuse us. The “things” we seem to hold responsible for our mixed thoughts about good and bad or right and wrong. Personally, I’ve never identified with the idea of a subliminal devil and an angel. Maybe it’s because the thought of having little people on my shoulders freaks me out. Or the thought of having more than one voice as my conscience is just weird. Truth is, there was only ONE Jiminy Cricket in Pinocchio for a reason! (Don’t ask me why, but Disn

I cannot believe that it’s been a week since the whole “New Year’s” Holiday. It goes by in the blink of an eye and if we’re lucky, we managed to snap a few pictures through our drunken haze to document the event. New Years Eve is over…..for most of us, this warrants a sigh of relief. Yes, you read that correctly, I said RELIEF (Let me explain…) After the hustle and bustle of Christmas is over, everyone can relax…everyone except the 20-somethings. For us, New Years Eve is the stress that starts December 26th. I cannot tell you how many times “ So, what are you doing for New Years Eve?” came up in conversation during Christmas time. I ran into some old friends, which I don’t see very often, throughout the Christmas break. I knew I wanted to Blog about New Years Eve and our overrated expectations of the perfect night. So, I asked some friends what they thought about it. The overall consensus: Almost everyone hates New Years Eve! It’s all a huge build up; we willingly drag ourselves th

This week has been crazy, I wanted to sit down and BLOG right after Christmas but the hustle and bustle of the season swept me away. As I sit here and write the word “Christmas”... I pause...Is that okay to post? Is it politically correct to say Christmas? I hope I don't offend anyone! Then I stop and think about how absurd it is that I'm actually thinking this! So here goes my Christmas rant...I'm not really sure exactly when it started but we are now being programmed to stop ourselves from saying “Merry Christmas” and now say “Happy Holiday’s.” The change is abrupt and we stop mid-sentence. I find that sometimes I end up in a awkward stutter as I try and redeem my comment. My desperate attempt to be politically correct comes out in a broken mess “Merry Chris…ugh….Holidays” <---its completely embarrassing I am Catholic and I celebrate Christmas. I believe in Santa, candy canes, baby Jesus and Christmas Tree’s (not necessarily in that order). Just because this is wh