i'll bartend your party
I would like to take this moment to recognize two things:
1. I cannot go to bed before four in the morning anymore. Somewhere along the line (the line being drawn between moving home from NY and today) I made the mistake of staying up very late, therefore waking up late the next day. Following said day came many more in which the pattern followed. Long story short, I am awake now, and after falling asleep, will not be awake again until tomorrow at two. Post Meridiem. That's about four hours of sunshine. Is also means that I eat breakfast at 2:30, lunch at 6:30, and dinner around 10. And of course, there's the before bed snack. It's a cruel cycle and I dread (look forward to) the day I have to wake up before noon.
2. Making a mix tape is very difficult. Especially when it's for a music lover who probably has more music than you do. Painstaking.
Schedule for the rest of the week:
Thursday: Wake up. Text Emily while she's in her night class reminding her that she has to ask the sexy classmate out on a date.
Friday: Wake up. Go to the Credit Union with Dad. Dentist appointment. Orioles game.
Saturday: Wake up. Find something to do that's not blogging.
1. I cannot go to bed before four in the morning anymore. Somewhere along the line (the line being drawn between moving home from NY and today) I made the mistake of staying up very late, therefore waking up late the next day. Following said day came many more in which the pattern followed. Long story short, I am awake now, and after falling asleep, will not be awake again until tomorrow at two. Post Meridiem. That's about four hours of sunshine. Is also means that I eat breakfast at 2:30, lunch at 6:30, and dinner around 10. And of course, there's the before bed snack. It's a cruel cycle and I dread (look forward to) the day I have to wake up before noon.
2. Making a mix tape is very difficult. Especially when it's for a music lover who probably has more music than you do. Painstaking.
Schedule for the rest of the week:
Thursday: Wake up. Text Emily while she's in her night class reminding her that she has to ask the sexy classmate out on a date.
Friday: Wake up. Go to the Credit Union with Dad. Dentist appointment. Orioles game.
Saturday: Wake up. Find something to do that's not blogging.
Dear future me,
Go outside. Find a patch of sunshine and follow it across the ground like a cat in a carpeted house with lots of windows. You need color and those sunshine-y vitamins.
Finish cleaning. Ignore the fact that your ceiling has collapsed (pictures later?) and carry-on.
Pack. Can be done once the cleaning is finished.
Start eating healthy. And by that I mean start cooking.
You're lazy and hazy.
- Me from now
Go outside. Find a patch of sunshine and follow it across the ground like a cat in a carpeted house with lots of windows. You need color and those sunshine-y vitamins.
Finish cleaning. Ignore the fact that your ceiling has collapsed (pictures later?) and carry-on.
Pack. Can be done once the cleaning is finished.
Start eating healthy. And by that I mean start cooking.
You're lazy and hazy.
- Me from now
Back from the beach, all! Rehoboth is shiny as usual, with shell-speckled beaches, cold water, and an array of dead horseshoe crabs. Also, I am deciding to lay off the booze, after 100 rounds of Sorry and crab dip at a local bar.I'm getting used to traveling light. This weekend was spent entirely in the same pair of sweatpants and sweatshirt. When the underwear got dirty, they were simply removed. And by dirty I mean probably are but it isn't obvious, dirty. Anyways, It was a free weekend.
In other news, I have my backpack prepared for hiking. Water bottle, water-proof clothing and compressable sleeping bag on deck. How many days left? 12 days, folks. Less than two weeks and I'm off again.
Baseball game this weekend? Yes.
Cleaning and packing? Yes.
As many home-cooked meals as possibly while I'm here seeing as I can't cook? Yes.
You should listen to The Cave Singers. Now.
the bauhaus
Wassily Kandinsky, Transverse Line 1923No need to look up any other Bauhaus artists (Josef Albers, Laszlo Moholy-Nagy, Max Bill or Herbert Bayer). Or you could, just for giggles.
i thought that...
This is me giving a big thumbs up to grunge. I mean downright dirty. Dirty clothes, hair, and teeth. (Think big woolen, teethy, sweater vests with faux-fur hood.) I mean haven't a clean pair of underwear in sight. Hidden, perhaps, but definitely not in range of my eyes. I mean, straight-up, no joke, not messing around - everything around me is pure raunchy.
In other news, I quite enjoy being back here. By here I mean Lace&Lilac the page specifically. This place is shiny like I remember. A home away from home of sorts, minus the roadkill of a saying. I love talking about nothing in hopes that one day I will print everything out, rearrange, staple and sign by a false name. I will stuff the printed manuscript of a blog into someones mailbox (anyone's, preferably in a Jewish neighborhood). I will let them deal with it. If it's never published in any form, there will be no dashed dreams for this girl. Nope.
I would never consider myself the kind of person to have a published blog. In fact, that seems like unnecessary stardom. I'd feel naked. I'd feel covered in peeping-tom eyes. Which brings me to another consideration- why the fuck do I have a blog?
I should sleep. That thing that people do when it gets dark in their room. (Er, one of the things.)
In other news, I quite enjoy being back here. By here I mean Lace&Lilac the page specifically. This place is shiny like I remember. A home away from home of sorts, minus the roadkill of a saying. I love talking about nothing in hopes that one day I will print everything out, rearrange, staple and sign by a false name. I will stuff the printed manuscript of a blog into someones mailbox (anyone's, preferably in a Jewish neighborhood). I will let them deal with it. If it's never published in any form, there will be no dashed dreams for this girl. Nope.
I would never consider myself the kind of person to have a published blog. In fact, that seems like unnecessary stardom. I'd feel naked. I'd feel covered in peeping-tom eyes. Which brings me to another consideration- why the fuck do I have a blog?
I should sleep. That thing that people do when it gets dark in their room. (Er, one of the things.)
misery
It's official. Being home is probably the worst thing I've ever experienced. Not only is the house (literally) falling apart, not only do I not have anywhere to sleep, not only am I going to be alone and without transportation for the next three days, but I have no money.
I am without money, without a car, without anyplace to go. My check from school still hasn't come. I'm getting worried, especially with a $200 credit card bill to pay by the 15th. I may just spend my time worrying at Emily's house while we watch movies and drink wine. Oh, also, I still have to go to the laundromat to wash my clothes. Because our dryer's broken.
On that note, New York is consuming me. I spend my time on Craig's List looking at available apartments in Brooklyn and Washington Heights. I look for jobs and find none. It's just out of reach and frustrating. I need to get it out of my system.
I am without money, without a car, without anyplace to go. My check from school still hasn't come. I'm getting worried, especially with a $200 credit card bill to pay by the 15th. I may just spend my time worrying at Emily's house while we watch movies and drink wine. Oh, also, I still have to go to the laundromat to wash my clothes. Because our dryer's broken.
On that note, New York is consuming me. I spend my time on Craig's List looking at available apartments in Brooklyn and Washington Heights. I look for jobs and find none. It's just out of reach and frustrating. I need to get it out of my system.
i was the fool beside you
There are a few things that have frightened me lately.
1. My inability to go to bed before 4 in the morning.
2. My inability to wake up before 2 in the afternoon.
3. My lack of plans in general.
4. The lack of people to talk to in real life as opposed to via electronics.
5. The giant hole in my ceiling.
6. My disinterest in music.
I've noticed that showers are perfect for when you're bored. Also, Apartment Therapy isn't therapy at all, rather, a mental train wreck for the poor and apartmentless.
Where are you New York? Why have you gone from my life. You're hard but you're easy. Come back.
1. My inability to go to bed before 4 in the morning.
2. My inability to wake up before 2 in the afternoon.
3. My lack of plans in general.
4. The lack of people to talk to in real life as opposed to via electronics.
5. The giant hole in my ceiling.
6. My disinterest in music.
I've noticed that showers are perfect for when you're bored. Also, Apartment Therapy isn't therapy at all, rather, a mental train wreck for the poor and apartmentless.
Where are you New York? Why have you gone from my life. You're hard but you're easy. Come back.
the places to live
I am officially back. And what I mean is that I am officially back in Baltimore.
Adjusting to the move from NYC to Baltimore is harder than I expected. Moving to NYC was difficult. Everywhere the spaces are smaller. The supermarkets are tiny, the streets are tiny, my room was tiny. Everywhere there are people. So many people that you don't notice them. There is always something to do. To get anywhere you have to walk or take the subway or both. It's far more expensive.
Not Baltimore. Today I went to the supermarket. First, I had to drive there. I had to get into the car, adjust all of the mirrors, the seat and the stearing wheel. I had to find the right radio station. (Classic rock.) Once I got to the store, I had to park. I parked as far away as possible, to say away from where all the cars were. Finally - the store. There were so many aisles - so much space and so few people. I felt exposed, like everyone saw me. It was stressful, to say the least. And parallel parking once I was back home? Impossible. I had to call for help.
The good news? Now that I'm back home, I have time to do my writing and it's socially acceptable to wear sweatpants.
I'm going to be sentimental about the situation. I like and dearly miss NYC and know for a fact that I will be living there with the ones I love and living in an apartment with my own puppy and my own plants. Is that too much to ask, you think?
Only one year of college left. The last year will inevitably the hardest but then I get to live. I mean really live.
Adjusting to the move from NYC to Baltimore is harder than I expected. Moving to NYC was difficult. Everywhere the spaces are smaller. The supermarkets are tiny, the streets are tiny, my room was tiny. Everywhere there are people. So many people that you don't notice them. There is always something to do. To get anywhere you have to walk or take the subway or both. It's far more expensive.
Not Baltimore. Today I went to the supermarket. First, I had to drive there. I had to get into the car, adjust all of the mirrors, the seat and the stearing wheel. I had to find the right radio station. (Classic rock.) Once I got to the store, I had to park. I parked as far away as possible, to say away from where all the cars were. Finally - the store. There were so many aisles - so much space and so few people. I felt exposed, like everyone saw me. It was stressful, to say the least. And parallel parking once I was back home? Impossible. I had to call for help.
The good news? Now that I'm back home, I have time to do my writing and it's socially acceptable to wear sweatpants.
I'm going to be sentimental about the situation. I like and dearly miss NYC and know for a fact that I will be living there with the ones I love and living in an apartment with my own puppy and my own plants. Is that too much to ask, you think?
Only one year of college left. The last year will inevitably the hardest but then I get to live. I mean really live.
