A Cheese Curds Cheer for Spring Break

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Since Iowa had a blizzard over “spring break,” I guess the name was a little misleading. Fortunately, though, I didn’t have to spend the week on campus by myself–unlike fall break, after my family’s thwarted Thanksgiving plans. I didn’t fly home. No, that wouldn’t be convoluted enough. Instead, I once again infiltrated my Ohio friend’s car drive to Toledo. (A quick restaurant recommendation in Toledo is the Saucey Slice Pizzeria, which is a chain that my hometown sadly does not have.)

From Toledo, I reunited with my parents, and we vacationed our way to my true spring break destination: Madison, Wisconsin. Luckily for me, spring break had a lot fewer cons compared to fall break. Here’s a list of my favorite moments:

The Toledo Zoo 

Toledo, Ohio, may not be everyone’s dream spring break location. But the few days my family and I spent there proved to be surprisingly interesting. The Toledo Zoo was very quaint and relaxing, and it was nice to dedicate a whole day outside when I’ve been confined to indoor lecture halls and study rooms lately. 

The Milwaukee Art Museum 

Shaped like a ship about to set sail on the Michigan River, the Milwaukee Art Museum hosts pieces of creativity ranging from century-old paintings to modern conceptual projects. The most compelling exhibit to me had layers that were impossible to photograph, but I’ll try to describe it here. On the surface, it just appeared to be an open suitcase in the middle of a hardwood room. Then, you get closer and look inside to see a grate. Beneath the metal bars was a rippling, vibrantly blue underwater scene, bright corals and seaweed. At a certain angle, however, you can also see a hint of what else lies down there: two sets of pale, chalky legs. One statue is a man’s, and on his lap is the statue of a boy. Your visibility of them is severed above the knee. Truly a beautiful museum with very distinct pieces. 

The Mars Cheese Castle 

Wisconsin. Over 700 flavors of cheese. Enough said. 

Visiting my Wisconsin Friends

One of my good friends from last semester decided to transfer out of Iowa and move back to her home state of Wisconsin. Since I was heading to Madison–a lengthy but still manageable distance from my friend’s home–she (and another of our Wisconsin friends) was willing to make the drive. A lot of college friendships can form pretty quickly because of constant proximity and a general desire to meet new people after high school, but that means these friendships can also fall apart or fade just as fast. I’m glad that I’ve been able to avoid this outcome with some of my friends, even as we’re not shoved in the same class or dorm hall anymore. 

 

Seeing Downtown Madison with my Parents 

Though I think Iowa City is much more charming, I really enjoyed downtown Madison. I found the areas I was in to be fairly cozy. I particularly liked walking through Wisconsin’s capitol building and eating cheese curds at The Old Fashioned. 

Presenting at UW-Madison’s Midwestern Undergraduate Conference for the Humanities 

The reason my spring break was spent on enemy Big 10 school territory was that I was invited to present at UW-Madison’s new MUCH conference. I spoke on my final essay for my English major course last semester (examining the “feminist” label of Mary Shelley’s 1818 version of Frankenstein). Though I was exhausted by the end of the day, I appreciated the opportunity to share my work and hear different perspectives from other undergraduates in the region. (Also, presenting probably helped prepare me for my graded speech in rhetoric). 

After saying goodbye to my parents, I was back in Iowa City, and spring break was over. While summer break is just around the corner, I’m really grateful for the chance to (somewhat) rest for a week. 

Until next time! 

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A Reluctant Realization

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My blog posting has been pretty MIA this March. The feelings of procrastination have been particularly intense this month. I had chalked it up to just general end-of-year fatigue, the weary-limbed and tired-eyed signs that a student is ready for summer break. 

The weather on campus has been getting consistently warmer–with only the occasional Iowa wintery temper tantrum–so I celebrated this balmy blessing by taking a long walk. I let my thoughts overshadow my steps, my route decided on autopilot. I ended up on the west side of the river, passing the old-fashioned Dairy Queen stand that was closed for the season. Except I could hear the gentle sound of ‘50s blues music, and I could see people seated around tables with cones in hand. 

The seasonal reopening of the Riverside Drive Dairy Queen was what made me realize–not just acknowledge as a fact, but truly realize–that my first year of college will be over pretty soon. Yes, the Dairy Queen. Not the constant emails from university housing telling me when to move out. Not the warm breeze, or the sunbathing students on the Capitol lawn, or the clusters of friends throwing footballs. Not even the birthday gift I received for an event happening after I return to Virginia. 

It’s now spring, and soon enough, I will have one less year of college. I had this same bittersweet regret last year, around the time of my high school graduation. There are many experiences I’ve had these past two semesters that are precious to me. There are also moments I didn’t enjoy as much, and I can’t wait until they’re drowned out by new memories. But it’s the experiences I didn’t have that are lingering in my mind: it’s a general sense of “I didn’t do enough.” And the experiences I did have? Well, I didn’t savor those as much as I should have. 

Maybe my philosophy Gen Ed is just starting to get to me, but I’m questioning why I seem to get this recurring notion every semester’s end. Especially when it has a seemingly impossible goal. I could savor the details of buying my first Dairy Queen drink of the new season. I could lock those details into words here: the heat of the cloudless sky, the itchy redness of an emerging sunburn, the beep as I scanned my card, the icy chill in my palm as I carried the cup, the blue raspberry freeze on my tongue. I can make it as thorough as I want.

But inevitably, if I ever look back at this post in the future, way after the actual moment has been regulated to just a memory–I still would long to do what I never can: to steal an experience back from time. 

To a bittersweet spring (only 6 and a half weeks left this semester!) 

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Winning in (folk) Style

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A few months ago, I wrote a blog about getting an “(ankle) pick-me-up” from a Big Ten wrestling match. Last weekend, I once again returned to Carver Hawkeye-Arena to see Iowa face off against the Michigan Wolverines. My friend from Wisconsin, seeking a break from the state’s exploding trees–before moving to the Midwest, I had no idea it was possible for cold weather to turn bark into a ticking time bomb–came back to Iowa City for the showdown. After a tiring week of preparing for midterms and submitting my writing to literary magazines, I was grateful for yet another chance to absorb myself in sports rather than study guides.

My friends and I settled in our seats, trying to talk over the noise of the busy stadium. Then, framed by bright bursts of fire, the wrestlers ran out onto the sidelines, and the match began.

Though the energy of the crowd remained high throughout the duals, the Hawkeye score was running low compared to Michigan. We were lagging behind by only 4 points, but as Iowa struggled to muscle through the competition, that 4-point separation seemed infinite. Until the very last match of the night. 

As Iowa closed the gap and proved dominant in a matter of only two periods, we were all on our feet jumping and screaming, cut off by the booming declaration that “Hawkeyes win!”

We filed out of Carver alongside all the other content college students (and disappointed Wolverine fans), imitating the gruff “blood time” announcement we kept hearing during the tournament and enjoying the warm night air of Iowa’s “fake spring.” We got all the way back to my friend’s minivan, past the pitch-black woods and dim train tracks, when we realized something was wrong. 

I do have an interesting track record of events going awry in some way (such as my anaphylactic Oktoberfest and thwarted Thanksgiving plans), so I guess it was only a matter of time. One of my friends, panickedly searching her purse, said that her phone and ID were no longer in it. We ran back to the arena, which was a difficult task for me because the boots I was wearing were made for walking–determined to recover her belongings as soon as possible. Our next obstacle was that the doors were already locked, and since we’re all fairly brand loyal to the law, we needed someone to let us in, or we’d be out of luck. Fortunately, our knocking on the glass caught a nearby employee’s attention, and he opened the door for us to look. 

The stadium was completely empty at that point, which was an almost surreal sight considering how full it had been only about ten minutes before. But our rescue mission was a success, and we could return to the minivan with my friend’s identity restored. 

So, we got the school spirit satisfaction of a wrestling victory, a new inside joke, and a slight brush with tragedy. Truly a way to win in (folk) style. 

Until next time! 

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A Love Letter to Iowa

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Happy Valentine’s Day, Hawkeyes! 

In the spirit of Cupid, I’m taking a quick moment to share my affection for the University of Iowa. I have written multiple blogs complaining about the daily grievances of dorm life or lamenting over semester disappointments. But there was a reason I was drawn to this school–and a reason why I’ve still chosen to stay. 

There’s a special kind of charm to the tight-knit yet vast feel of the campus: large enough to not seem cramped or repetitive, but also walkable and cozy enough to become quickly familiar. The Big Ten sports and Hancher concerts offer boisterous, energetic, adrenaline-fueled evenings, while the quaint bookstores and artistic events give you a quiet and creative alternative. The student organizations and courses–even the ones you don’t like or decide to quit–let you explore your interests and abilities in a way that can’t be replicated outside of a college campus. 

So, this is my brief but meaningful kiss on the cheek to this university. Next time I start getting inklings of disillusionment, I’ll just look out the window at the vibrant sunset and remember all the reasons to embrace being a student here. 

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The Dining Hall Debate

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Today I will address a very serious and controversial matter: which University of Iowa dining hall is the best? 

You may hear the propaganda online that Hillcrest is superior to both Catlett and Burge in every aspect. While Hillcrest may have some advantages over its two culinary competitors, it still falls short in certain categories. Here is the number one pro and con of each campus dining hall, from my expert dorm resident opinion. 

Hillcrest–

Pro: Hillcrest definitely has the most variety in options. I assume this is because it is the only west side dining hall, so it needs to include in one what Catlett and Burge include combined. I personally don’t think there’s a difference in food taste, but you certainly get more food to choose from. 

Con: the location is inconvenient if you live in an east side dorm or have east side classes (and many classes are on the east side). When the winter weather hits, you probably won’t think the panini bar is enough to justify the trek across the river–unless you’re ready to grip your sandwich with frostbitten fingers. 

Burge–

Pro: The seating options in Burge are by far the most spacious and varied. Hillcrest is pretty cramped and Catlett only has a few different table sizes. Burge, on the other hand, has tables for one, two, four, and six. Plus, since it’s often labeled the “worst” dining hall, it tends to be less crowded than Catlett. 

Con: Opposite of Hillcrest, Burge probably has the least variety in food options from day to day. The menu stays fairly consistent with only slight variations, so you do have to really enjoy the food stations they have. 

Catlett–

Pro: Catlett has the most options for the east side location, blending convenience and variety. Plus, on weeknights, you get access to Fire Up Grill to satisfy your cravings while cramming for your next test. 

Con: Though Catlett has more options than Burge, it tends to have blander options. Instead of mixed steamed vegetables, there is just plain broccoli or carrots or green beans. Rather than a waffle bar, there are just bagels. 

 

While each dining hall has its own strengths and weaknesses, you may still be wondering: which of these factors matters the most? Which one is actually the best? 

Well, you’re just going to have to try all three of them and decide for yourself. 

Until next time! 

 

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An Ohio Odyssey Back

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On January 17, I returned to the icy clutches of the Midwest. Whatever rejuvenation the break at home had given me was quickly stripped away during the drive from Virginia to Ohio, and then another trek from Ohio back to Iowa City. I was hoping that a bright start to the new semester would overshadow the negative temperatures and burning gulps of freezing wind, but the beginning’s been a little rough so far. 

I woke up on the first day of brand-new classes with a sore throat and the knowing dread that I would be sick for that entire week. Then, in addition to the feverish aches and pains my cold brought on, I received a few rejections from programs and opportunities I had applied to earlier. While I had ended my first semester feeling fulfilled, and with plans on how I wanted to spend the next one, those plans were no longer going to be a possibility. I stared out at the frozen river, wondering what I should do now. 

Not every part of the college experience is going to be lively or glamorous, which can be especially discouraging when you imagine it as being so. There may be those quiet moments where you question what you’re doing, how you ended up here, or if you’ll ever figure any of “it” out. 

But at least you have three or four years to really investigate that “it.” 

Tomorrow’s a new (and hopefully warmer) day. 

Until next time! 

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Favorite Monthly Memories

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Happy New Year’s, current and prospective Hawkeyes! Since homesickness and nostalgia have been overshadowing my appreciation for certain college experiences lately, I’ve decided to use this blog to recognize some favorite moments from my first semester. 

September 

Following the homecoming game, my friends and I got Dairy Queen from the old-timey stand because it was one of the last nights before it closed for the season. Consoling ourselves with dilly bars and blizzards after the disheartening Hoosier victory, we talked about everything from crazy roommates to hermit crabs. Between the vibrant neon sign lighting up the dark sky, the muggy air from the Iowa river, and the gentle breeze of summer weather trying to cling on, this was the kind of simple yet fun night I always pictured having in college. 

October 

I usually spent Halloween curled up with a book and a bowl of candy or working as a scare actor for haunted houses and trails, but I knew this year was going to be different–everything else was, after all. I was only partially correct, though, as the days leading up to the 31st proved to be a blend of past traditions and new experiences. I convinced my friends to go through Eclypse Haunted Attraction–which I would definitely recommend–with me. I also did the same “Mad Hatter” makeup look I’ve done before, which I always think is so fun to do. There’s a special kind of confidence you feel when you’re pretending to be bludgeoned in the head by a playing card. I wasn’t used to the stressful workload I needed to complete right before–and even on–the holiday, nor was I prepared for the blistering cold of walking to a party in Iowa in October. Still, it was a very happy Halloween. 

November 

Ignore the pretentious English major stereotype here, but it truly is very serene to sit outside in a black turtleneck and write poems or stories beneath the autumn sun. The fall season in Iowa was pretty blissful, the trees shedding burnt orange and russet-colored leaves.

December 

Before I knew better, I was fascinated by the Midwestern winter. The crunchy sheets of snow lie so bright on the ground that they take away the darkness of night. The calming flurries swirling outside the windows as I worked on my essays. The rhythmic pulse of the wind lulls me to sleep like white noise. 

Of course, this was all very enchanting when I didn’t need to leave the warmth of the dorm building. When I had to actually brave the icy cold and walk to class, my opinion of the weather certainly changed. The violent wind dried out my hands to the point where they were perpetually cracked open and bleeding; my knuckles looked like I was getting into bar fights every night. My cheeks often went numb if I was out for longer than ten minutes. Still, I can’t help but find the snow and ice charming–so long as I’m looking at it from the climate-controlled indoors. 

I hope you have a great start to your 2026!

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A Virginia Voyage Home

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I didn’t really blog in December because I kept waiting for something climactic to happen after completing my first semester of college. My friends and I did celebrate with Insomnia Cookies, but there wasn’t any big punctuating event to end what I thought was a major milestone–only some aggressive Iowan winds, a final few essays, and an hour-long exam. 

I suppose the most significant feature of my December was my journey to get home for the holidays. A flight from Iowa to Washington, D.C. is only a couple of hours, but I wanted to avoid the price and mental anguish of airport travel. Fortunately, I have a friend who drives from Iowa City to Ohio every school break, and he was willing to let me conquer the passenger side of his car. All we had to do was survive frustrating Chicago traffic and surrender an hour to the time zone barrier. From Ohio, my parents picked me up and drove me back to our hometown. 

I haven’t been home since I originally moved onto campus last August, and it’s honestly been a bit surreal being back. Every street and building is viewed through a lens of distant, bittersweet nostalgia: I’m not used to seeing these familiar sights in the context that they’re not really my permanent “home” anymore. I feel like the part of me who knew this area so well–the part tied to my childhood and teenage years–now exists mostly just in the past, vaguely dulled by the very beginning of a new life in Iowa. So many places here prompt a memory that can never be replicated or continued ever again; they’re unreachable. This feeling, which I’m sure will only grow more prominent as time goes on, was what I was terrified of after graduation. 

I was worried that I’d lose my “home” in Virginia, especially if Iowa City didn’t start to feel like “home” right away, either. But this is not necessarily something to resist. Part of the early college experience is to say goodbye to childhood and welcome new possibilities, to grow as a person as you grow up. I can’t deny the ache I feel when I’m reminded of an old friend whose family doesn’t live here anymore, nor the pain of reuniting with my familiar bedroom while knowing I’ll have to leave it again in only a couple of weeks. But I can enjoy reminiscing about the past without letting it stop me from being excited about the future. 

Maybe I don’t really need a big punctuating or climactic event, after all. I think what I really just needed was the simplicity of relaxing at home and remembering what it meant–and still means–to me. 

Until next time!

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A Foggy, Frantic Thanksgiving

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Happy November, Hawkeyes!

Though fall “break” hasn’t proven to be as much of a break from schoolwork as I had hoped (I still need to write that essay and finish that project!), it did allow me to see my parents again for the first time since August. While I suppose it’s only been a few months, I feel like I’ve been separated from my family for way longer and am very thankful that they were able to visit me. 

But there’s a catch to my fall break: I get to spend Thanksgiving with my parents, but not in Virginia. Thus, last Friday began our first-ever time celebrating Turkey Day–or in this case, Turkey Week–in the state of Iowa. I figured I would share both what I am grateful for and not grateful for about this experience:

Grateful: Molly’s Cupcakes still having a location in Des Moines 

For those who never toured Iowa City in the olden days (last August) before “Molly’s Cupcakes” shut down, their rich brown butter frosting and decadent desserts were a sweet staple of campus. Fortunately, we had time to go to the Des Moines shop on our way to the city. Biting my sweet tooth into one of those long-awaited cupcakes was a delicious reunion that I doubt any slice of pumpkin pie can beat.

Not grateful: the gloomy fog & looming winter storms

I have never encountered something quite as moody as Midwestern weather. One minute will be a sunny 70 degrees, and the next will have a frosty, knifelike chill. The wind gusts these past couple days have been vicious enough to slam car doors on their own, apparently reassuring my mom–who is originally from Indiana–that she made the right choice moving to the temperate East Coast. The forecast is also predicting single-digit temperatures and thick blankets of snow starting soon. So, even though my parents were initially intending to stay a full week and even travel with me to Kansas City for the Christmas lighting, all of those plans have been wiped out by the weather. They will now be heading home early, and I’ll be back in the dorm early. I won’t lie, the solemn mask of fog over the world makes the idea of being in a nearly-empty building feel especially lonesome. Hey, I guess I do have those essay deadlines to keep me company, though.

 

Grateful: That exciting Hawkeye win over Michigan 

Part of my parents’ motivation for coming to Iowa rather than having me travel to Virginia was that they wanted to see Big Ten football live. Our final home game of the season proved to be a riveting finale, with Iowa breaking a tense tie in only the very last few seconds. I have recommended the Kinnick experience before, as I think being immersed within a stadium of bustling energy and school spirit is a distinct perk of being a Hawkeye. Plus, we were treated to another of the state’s vibrant, powder pink sunsets. 

 

Not grateful: Midwest rights of passage 

I used to wonder why my Iowan friend’s car was always splattered with mud or why the catchphrase seemed to be “it’s not the cold, it’s just the wind that gets ya.” Until we got out of our car after driving on dirt roads, and standing in the blustery wind, I found myself saying the exact same sentence so many Midwesterners repeat to me. Maybe I’m worried about becoming too different from my hometown roots, or just don’t want to give my friends the satisfaction of saying that they were right, but the Midwest might be beginning to take hold of me. Before I know it, I’ll be telling people that their Carhartt gear will last them a lifetime and start dumping ranch on everything I eat.

Grateful: Our trip to Des Moines & Roseman Bridge 

Since we were no longer going to Kansas City, we decided to explore Iowa instead. The Hotel Fort Des Moines was like stepping into the past: chunky, old-fashioned keys were displayed on the wall, sleek copper patterns decorated the elevator floors, and the lobby held a rustic elegance. The only problem was that the heater in our room exclusively spat out cold air–and refused to turn off. While the Arctic feel of the suite docked it on some points, I still found the hotel pretty charming.

What stole my heart more, however, was the Hessen Haus. I’m a big fan of German food, as I have mentioned in my blogs before, so I was already expecting to enjoy the meal. Then I stepped into the warm restaurant, made especially appealing after a long rainy walk, and stood beneath the blood-red glow of the ceiling. Krampus stood next to a crimson Christmas tree, his yellow eyes flashing and his gnarled fingers swinging back and forth. The Hessen Haus was immediately endeared to me, and the savory flavor of its food only reinforced my good opinion of the place. I would certainly recommend it to those wanting a hearty dinner in Des Moines.

 

Roseman Bridge is most known for its presence in the 1995 film, The Bridges of Madison County. After crossing through the dim, musty interior and stepping on its creaky wooden boards, I was not surprised to learn that it’s also the location of a supposed haunting. Even though the relentless wind prevented us from looking at the bridge for too long, it was an interesting sight to see–especially with the stories surrounding it. 

Not grateful: the chaotic indoor tunnel system of Des Moines

Wanting to escape the freezing chill, my family and I attempted to navigate the above-ground tunnels of the capital city. The confusing maze added an unnecessary hour to our voyage to dinner, entering abandoned hallways with exposed wires dangling from the ceilings and pulling on the locked knobs of mysterious doorways. I truly felt like I was in a liminal space, and the horror movie fan in me kind of appreciated the feel of it. Though the wasted time on an empty stomach did make the experience pretty frustrating. 

Grateful: a successful last-minute Thanksgiving reservation change

With the cancellation of our original plans and restaurant reservations, we needed to find out where else we could get some turkey and cranberry sauce. This sparked a panicked slew of phone calls to various restaurants, hoping to snag an open spot at a holiday buffet. After several rejections, we were beginning to surrender to the reality that we were not going to get a true Thanksgiving meal this year. Yet my dad insisted that we try to call this one restaurant again and just see if there was maybe availability since the last time we asked. And, somehow, there was.

We now have a reservation at the Ox Yoke Inn for Turkey Day, in the Amana Colonies. Ironically, the same place that ruined my Oktoberfest saved my Thanksgiving. The love-hate relationship I have with Amana continues to evolve. 

Hopefully, you’re reading this after eating a plentiful serving of stuffing or mashed potatoes, or whatever your favorite Thanksgiving dish is.

Until next time! 

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An (Ankle) Pick-Me-Up

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After wrestling with midterms the last few weeks, I decided I needed a break to watch the actual sport. Fortunately, November 6 was the first home Wrestling event of the season against Bellarmine. Though I suppose I bought tickets because of nostalgia just as much as academic fatigue. 

In high school, my best friend and I covered a wrestling match for some last-minute journalism credit. I was a casual fan; I couldn’t ref the sport by any means, but I knew enough to be able to write a quick article on it. School had been delayed that morning because it was an icy 11 degrees outside–which, for us east coast winter rookies, is too cold to bear–but we pushed through the nighttime wind that pinched our cheeks and chilled our bones. The bleachers were nearly empty, probably due to a combination of the weather and the fact that a lot of tests fell during that week, but we were directly on the sidelines more so than in those bleachers anyway. My friend brought her fancy camera, but it died before we could pin down a good action shot. 

I recall how my itchy-eyed exhaustion from a long day of classes and the shivering touch of the outside wind made me question if it was truly worth it to go to this match. But now I’m glad I did. While I can remember the camera’s mortality, I can also remember my friend and me laughing about how she forgot to charge it. While I can remember the winter’s wrath, I can also remember what it was like to have such a close view of the sport–the swift sprawling, the reflexive reversals, the reverberating smack of an opponent landing on the mat. While I can remember the looming Calculus quiz I had the next day, I can also remember the infectious excitement when the small but devoted audience cheered at our school’s dominant victory of 56-13. 

I didn’t realize how nostalgic this seemingly insignificant high school evening was until I went to the Bellarmine dual. This was my first time going to a Big Ten Wrestling event, and I enjoyed the exhilarating screams of the sizable crowd, the bright flashes of fire on the sidelines, and the thumping entrance music. Iowa was victorious with a whopping 40-0 win. Yet what made the experience so much richer for me was how I could, just for a moment, sink back into the memory of last year. 

As a freshman, I love how everything feels so new here in Iowa. I have been to wrestling matches before, but going to a Hawkeye one felt like such a distinctly unique experience. However, as my college friend and I left the stadium–buzzing with energy from the victory–I couldn’t help but shoot off a joking text to my high school friend: “Hey, at least my camera didn’t die this time.”

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