Hi, my name is Roxy Harrison. I am a senior here at Rutgers and am equal parts lamenting and celebrating my last semester. I am an English major, and in the throes of finishing my Women and Gender Studies minor along with a Spanish minor. I am also drowning in the anxiety-ridden waters of serious procrastination in regards to applying to grad school. Maybe if I pretend May isn’t coming, then it won’t right? Logic.
My house got rocked last year from Hurricane Sandy, so a lot of my push-back from growing up and submitting applications is a serious aversion to leaving home again. Coming back to find all of my beloved books and journals stewing in a delicious little swamp of bay water and mud was enough to make me cry on the spot. However, there’s something really therapeutic about having to start over. My life isn’t made up of things but rather memories and moments. I try to stockpile those when I remember the twenty-seven pairs of shoes I had to throw out of my closet because I’m pretty sure they were going to sprout seaweed.
None the less, it could have been worse and so I have to make serious moves to make this happen for me by next fall. I am completely obsessed with my dog, unfortunately named Puff, and we have my mother to thank for that. This is him being tortured by my nine year old sister and eleven year old brother. And yes, he is absolutely as ferocious as he looks for the record.
I’m an avid beach-goer, as if you couldn’t guess by the chaos of my partially destroyed house, and live in a small coastal town that doesn’t even have its own zip code. We share with the neighboring town. My obsession on top of all obsessions is writing, I picked up a pen when I was about fourteen and I never put it down. My aim for the end of this semester is to finish my Creative Writing certification and maybe just maybe finish the stack of novels I have waiting for me in order to take the English Praxis
I’m currently working at this little trendy bracelet store in Red Bank, New Jersey called Alex and Ani. To say it’s gained a bit of a cult following is putting it mildly. I spent my winter break elbowing past middle-aged women and teenagers desperate to get their hands on bangles. We had bouncers for the forty-minute wait it took to actually even get inside the store…well that’s just another nightmare I don’t want to delve back into.
Needless to say, I doubt there was a single woman in the Monmouth County area who didn’t get their hands on a recycled brass bracelet for the holidays. Despite my retail trauma I managed to make it out relatively unscathed from the 2013 holiday season debacle. And this was entirely in spite of the belligerent forty-year old moms who couldn’t understand why we would be sold out of the December birthstone two days before Christmas. It’s definitely not for the weak-hearted.
This is a pie slice of my life. Finish my undergrad, transition to start my post-grad, work part-time in the girliest place imaginable. Add whipped cream, juggle my boyfriend, best friends, parents, workload. Drop my fork on the floor because I can’t even handle all of that and bypass nuking it in the microwave because let’s be real. I don’t have the time or the patience. Serve cold, for sure, and enjoy.