Blog

Posted in Lifestyle

Luna “Loony” Lovegood

Advertisements

If you could be a character from a book or film, who would you be? Why?

I would choose Luna Lovegood from the Harry Potter series—specifically the version of her that lives in the books. There’s something about Luna on the page that feels quieter, deeper, and more real to me than what we see on screen. She isn’t just “quirky” for the sake of it—she’s someone who has learned to be unapologetically herself in a world that doesn’t always understand her.

Growing up, I related to that more than I could explain at the time. I was a weird kid. Not in a fun, attention-grabbing way, but in the kind of way that makes it hard to connect with people. Making friends didn’t come easily to me, and there were moments when I felt like a loner—like I was somehow outside of everything everyone else seemed to be a part of. Sometimes that feeling turned into thinking I was a loser, even if I didn’t fully believe it deep down.

She’s teased, overlooked, and underestimated, yet she never reshapes herself to fit in. She doesn’t chase approval or try to hide the things that make her different. Instead, she moves through the world with this quiet confidence, as if she understands something others don’t—that being different isn’t something to fix.

In middle school, when I was getting picked on, I didn’t have that kind of confidence. I think that’s part of why Luna stood out to me so much. She represented a version of strength I hadn’t learned yet. Not loud or confrontational, but steady and unshaken. By the time high school came around, things got better for me, but that earlier version of myself still connects with her deeply.

If I could be Luna, it wouldn’t just be about being in a magical world. It would be about having that level of self-acceptance from the start—the ability to exist as I am without constantly questioning whether I belong. Luna reminds me that belonging doesn’t always come from fitting in; sometimes it comes from finding the people who see you clearly and choosing to see yourself the same way.

Posted in Lifestyle

Easy Lemon Blueberry Bundt Cake for Easter

Advertisements

This Easter, I’m keeping things simple, cozy, and a little citrusy.

No over-the-top baking marathon. No stress. Just one soft, sunshine-filled cake that feels like spring showed up in dessert form. Something light, something sweet, something that tastes like opening the windows and letting fresh air into the kitchen.

So this year, I’m making a lemon blueberry Bundt cake — the kind that feels like it belongs on a pastel plate next to a cup of coffee and a quiet Easter afternoon.

It’s easy, which is honestly the whole point. Easter doesn’t need to be complicated to be special. Sometimes it’s just about making something warm, sharing it with people you love, and letting the day feel gentle.

What you’ll need:

  • 1 package lemon cake mix
  • 3 oz instant lemon pudding mix
  • 2/3 cup water
  • 1/2 cup vegetable oil
  • 1 teaspoon lemon zest
  • 1/3 cup lemon juice
  • 4 eggs
  • 6 oz blueberries (fresh or frozen)

For the glaze:

  • 2 cups powdered sugar
  • 3 tablespoons water or lemon juice
  • 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

How I’m making it:

Preheat the oven to 350° and generously grease a large Bundt pan (this part is important because nobody wants a broken Easter cake).

In a big bowl, whisk together the lemon cake mix and lemon pudding mix. Add the water, oil, lemon zest, lemon juice, and eggs, then mix everything until smooth. Gently fold in the blueberries so they don’t burst and turn the whole cake purple.

Pour the batter into the Bundt pan and bake for about 40 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out with a few soft crumbs.

Let it cool in the pan for 10–15 minutes, then flip it onto a cooling rack and let it rest completely.

For the glaze, whisk powdered sugar, water (or lemon juice if you want it extra bright), and vanilla until smooth. Drizzle it over the cooled cake and let it set for about 10 minutes before slicing.

That’s it.

A soft, lemony, blueberry-filled Easter cake that doesn’t try too hard but still feels special. The kind of dessert that sits quietly on the table while everyone talks, laughs, and maybe sneaks an extra slice when no one is looking.

Sometimes Easter isn’t about doing the most.

Sometimes it’s just about making something sweet and letting the day be soft.

Posted in Lifestyle

Nothing Happened… But Everything Feels Different

Advertisements

Not the post I intend to post today but I got news today.

Not good news.
Not bad news.
Just… news.

The kind that sits in your chest and refuses to tell you how you’re supposed to feel about it.

I think that’s what makes it so hard. If it were good, I’d celebrate. If it were bad, I’d grieve. But this lives in the uncomfortable middle — the quiet gray area where nothing is clearly right or wrong, and yet everything suddenly feels different.

And it came at the worst possible time.

Life already feels fragile, like I’m barely holding everything together with sticky notes and deep breaths, and then this news shows up and gently knocks on the door like it belongs here. Like it’s allowed to rearrange everything without asking if I’m ready.

I didn’t plan for it.
I didn’t prepare for it.
And I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do with it.

That’s the strange thing about news that isn’t good or bad — it still changes things. It still asks you to think about your future in ways you weren’t expecting. It still sits quietly in the back of your mind while you’re trying to go about your day like nothing happened.

But something did happen.

Even if no one else can see it.

Right now I’m just sitting with it, letting myself feel confused and a little overwhelmed and unsure. Not rushing to decide anything. Not forcing meaning onto it. Just letting it exist in the messy middle of my life.

Because sometimes news is just news.

And sometimes that’s enough to shake everything.

Posted in Lifestyle

April 1st: No Pranks, Just Pages

Advertisements

Listen. I know what day it is.

I know the internet is out here duct-taping googly eyes onto everything and calling it content. I know someone, somewhere, has already announced they’re quitting their job to become a professional cloud watcher (honestly… tempting). And I KNOW you might be side-eyeing anything posted today like, “hmm… but is it real though?”

So let me say this as plainly—and as un-prankishly—as possible:

This is not an April Fools’ joke.

Your girl is doing the 30-day writing challenge. For real. On purpose. With intention. And probably snacks.

You might remember I already announced it (look at me, being consistent *before* the challenge even starts… growth!!), but today felt like the right day to gently (read: aggressively but lovingly) remind you:

I’m showing up. Every day. For 30 days. To write.

Not perfectly.
Not brilliantly.
Not with a feather quill by candlelight while whispering to my muses.

Just… honestly.

Some days might be thoughtful.
Some might be chaotic.
Some might read like I wrote them while emotionally attached to a cup of coffee.

But they will exist.

And that’s kind of the point, isn’t it?

Because if I’ve learned anything, it’s this: we spend so much time waiting to feel “ready” that we forget readiness is a myth invented by procrastination and its close cousin, ✨overthinking✨.

So this month, I’m choosing momentum over magic.

I’m choosing done over perfect.
Messy over missing.
Showing up over showing off.

And if you’ve been sitting on something—writing, creating, dreaming, doodling, whispering “one day” to yourself like it’s a personality trait—consider this your extremely gentle, bunny-approved nudge:

Start.

Not because it’s the perfect time.
Not because you suddenly feel fearless.
But because you’re allowed to begin before you feel ready.

No punchline. No twist ending. No “haha just kidding.”

Just a small, steady commitment:
30 days. 30 pieces. One slightly unhinged but determined human.

If you’re in, I’m cheering for you.
If you’re watching, I’m still cheering for you.
If you’re skeptical because it’s April 1st… honestly? Fair. Respect.

But come back tomorrow.
And the next day.
And the next.

I’ll be here.

No fooling. 🐰

Posted in Lifestyle

The Friend Zone

Advertisements

There’s this unspoken idea that you’re supposed to become best friends with your friends’ partners. Like it’s all one big, happy, perfectly blended group where everyone clicks effortlessly.

But… that’s not always how it goes.

I tried, genuinely. I reached out, invited her to things, made space for a connection outside of just group settings. And for a while, I kept thinking maybe it just needed time. But it started to feel a little one-sided—like the friendliness only really showed up when he was around, and otherwise it was a bit distant, a bit surface-level.

At one point, when they had broken up, I even sent a message just trying to be respectful of everyone involved. I didn’t want to be in the middle of anything—I just wanted clarity on how to exist in shared spaces without making things uncomfortable for anyone. It came from a good place: caring about both people, separately, and wanting to navigate things thoughtfully.

But looking back, I think that was one of the last times I really tried to bridge that gap.

Now that they’re back together, not much has changed on that front—and weirdly, that’s been clarifying in its own way. Not every connection is meant to turn into a friendship, and that’s okay.

Because the truth is: you don’t have to be friends with your friends’ partners.

This isn’t some sitcom version of life where everyone ends up inseparable, sharing inside jokes on a couch every night. Sometimes the dynamic is just… different. More casual. More “we’re friendly because we’re in the same orbit,” and that’s enough.

And honestly, this has been the year I’ve started letting that be enough.

Less overthinking. Less trying to make everything perfectly aligned. Less worrying about who likes what, or how to make every interaction land just right.

I gave it a real shot, and I feel good about that. But I’ve also learned that not every effort needs to be ongoing.

Now when I see her, it’s simple. Polite. Easy. No pressure for it to be anything more than what it naturally is.

And that feels… kind of peaceful, actually.

Posted in Lifestyle

A library

Advertisements

If you could have something named after you, what would it be?

I want a library named after me. Not in a quiet, humble way, but in a dramatic, history-book, future-field-trip kind of way. Think the Library of Alexandria, but reimagined as the Library of Eryn — a place where stories live forever and people walk in feeling like knowledge is sacred and cozy at the same time.

I want it to be bigger than the New York Public Library, which holds over 50 million items and already feels like a universe of pages. Mine would hold even more: cookbooks, diaries, zines, playlists, handwritten letters, blog posts, and tiny pieces of human life that deserve to be archived.

No dusty silence, just warm lighting, soft couches, and endless shelves of possibility — a monument to curiosity, creativity, and cozy chaos, and that books can build worlds.

Posted in Lifestyle

March Favorites

Advertisements

I almost didn’t make this post because I feel like I’ve been chronically online this month, and if you’ve been here… you’ve already seen all of this unfold in real time. But I love a good roundup moment and it’s giving scrapbook energy, it’s giving main character recap.

“May your choices reflect your hopes, not your fears.” — Nelson Mandela

This was my favorite quote of the month, and honestly, it’s the energy I’m carrying with me into April.

This quote felt very March. Lots of doing, trying, sharing, and just leaning into the things that make me feel like me.

Favorites of the Month:
Turmeric cleansing pads = underrated queen of my routine right now. My skin has been like… “oh, we’re glowing?”
Also, Costco clothes. Specifically, the cute work pants I found. I don’t know who I am anymore, but I do know I’m in my Costco clothing era and I’m thriving. Comfort? Price? Unexpected slay? Say less.

Doing:
All. the. arts. and. crafts.
Like if there’s a way to turn something into a little project, I’m doing it. It’s been very therapeutic, very “I’m just a girl with hobbies.”

Trying:
To stay consistent with my routine (keyword: trying), and to remember to call my loved ones more—because somehow the days just fly by.
Also, really working on putting myself first this year and not caring so much about how other people see me. Not everyone is going to understand or see me authentically anyway, and I’m honestly just tired of being a people-pleasing pushover. It’s a work in progress, but it feels important.

Reading:
For book club, I’m on the second book in the Fourth Wing series, which has been fun because I am obsessed with this series.
Personally, I’m rereading The Last Survivors series by Susan Beth Pfeffer before recommending it to my niece. I have a history of recommending things that are maybe… a little too intense or just not age appropriate, shes 12 so i think she can handle more. Since I don’t want the argument with her parents I’m fact-checking myself this time. Honestly, I think it’s fine—and sometimes those review sites are a little dramatic.

Watching:
Okay first of all—baseball season is BACK, which means I will absolutely be watching the games, even if I’m just watching from my couch, it counts.
Also watching the second season of The Pitt (does anyone else ship Robby and Whitaker?) and The Fall and Rise of Reggie Dinkins, which surprised me in the best way.

I don’t actually know if this is a watch or a listen but I finally discovered a podcast I’m obsessed with: The Dish Podcast. I love Nick Grimshaw and Angela Hartnett, especially how they interact with guests, and I enjoy the recipes they share.

Listening:
“Sideways” by Zayn has been on repeat, along with “Kiss All the Time” by Harry Styles. It’s giving a little disco, a little dreamy, a little dramatic. So basically… I’m never getting out of my One Direction phase.

Overall, March felt very full—in the best, sparkly, slightly chaotic way. And if this post feels repetitive, I think that just means I’ve been actually living and sharing as I go, which is kind of the whole point.

Anyway… onto April. Let’s see who she is.

Posted in Lifestyle

Unexpectedly Full of Giggles

Advertisements

What makes you laugh?

If you only knew me from my posts, you might think I spend my days brooding dramatically in a dimly lit corner, sighing into the void. Fair. That’s the vibe. But here’s the plot twist: I am, inconveniently, a very happy person.

Like, I laugh at everything. Not refined, polite chuckling either—I’m talking full-on, teenage-boy-level humor. Dumb jokes? Incredible. Bad puns? Life-giving. Someone slipping in a totally non-serious way? I’m gone. It’s honestly a miracle I get anything done between laughing fits.

My friends say I have that same overly cheerful, giggly energy—which feels very on brand for someone who cannot stop laughing at literally nothing.

Which is why it’s funny (to me, obviously) that my online persona feels like it belongs in a rainstorm at all times. I promise, offline me is probably giggling at something completely ridiculous while writing something that sounds emotionally devastating.

Lately, I’ve been obsessed with The Fall and Rise of Reggie Dinkins, which absolutely fuels this contradiction. I love comedy that leans into chaos, and that show delivers in a way that makes my sense of humor feel seen.

So yes, I may sound sad and slightly unhinged online—but in reality, I’m just over here laughing at everything.

Posted in Lifestyle

The Next Stephen King

Advertisements
Daily writing prompt
When you were five, what did you want to be when you grew up?

I was probably a little too young when my mom first introduced me to her favorite author, Stephen King. To be fair, she started with The Eyes of the Dragon, which is technically more of a children’s story. She always told me it was something he’d written for his daughter when she was young, so in her mind, it felt like a safe place to begin.

But that was just the beginning.

Not long after, she was reading me Dreamcatcher—and even let me watch the movie. Looking back, it might not have been the most age-appropriate choice, but at the time, it felt completely normal. It was just part of our routine.

Every night, we had this ritual: she’d sit with me and read aloud. Those moments became something I looked forward to all day. Stories weren’t just entertainment in our house—they were an experience, something shared, something alive.

I didn’t realize it then, but those nights shaped me in a big way. Somewhere between fantasy kingdoms and Stephen King’s darker worlds, I started to fall in love with storytelling.

And that’s where it began—the quiet, growing feeling that maybe one day, I wanted to be a writer too.

Posted in Bun Appétit

Starting My Sourdough Starter

Advertisements

This spring, I’m coming back to something familiar: sourdough. I’ve done this before—back in 2020, when so many of us were trying new things at home. I kept a starter going for years, tucked in a big jar in the fridge, feeding it regularly and using it for everything from biscuits and scones to muffins and pancakes. It became part of my routine for a while… until, sometime around 2022, I slowly lost interest and let it go.

So this isn’t exactly new—it’s more like starting again.

There’s something about spring that makes it feel right. A season for growing things, or regrowing them. Not just plants, but habits, hobbies, and little rituals that once brought joy. Sourdough feels like the perfect fit for that kind of reset.

I’m using the same simple method I followed before. To begin, dissolve 1 teaspoon of sugar in ½ cup warm water, sprinkle in one packet of yeast, and let it sit for about 10 minutes. Then add 1½ cups warm water and 2 cups of flour, mixing until smooth. Cover it and leave it out overnight. On day two, stir in 1 cup flour, ½ cup sugar, and 1 cup milk, then cover and refrigerate. For the next couple of days, just stir daily. On day five, feed it again the same way as day two, then continue stirring each day through day nine. By day ten, it’s ready to use—bake something, share a cup with a friend, and keep a portion going by feeding it again.

Even having done this before, there’s still that sense of uncertainty. Will it bubble the way I remember? Will I keep up with it this time? But I’m trying not to focus on getting it “right.” Like before, it’s really about consistency and care—showing up each day, paying attention, and letting it grow slowly.

If nothing else, it’s a small, steady reminder: some things are worth starting again.