I can't sleep.
This isn't all that unusual. I used to get this all the time - usually when something was bothering me, I'd be unable to sleep until I either listened to Handel violin concertos on repeat or read myself to exhaustion. The light bulb in my bedside lamp has burnt out, so reading is out, and my iPod seems to have misplaced itself (I'm far too lazy to actually go and look for it) so I'm back here.
Nothing is bothering me tonight. Life is excellent at the moment - I'm far luckier and far happier than is decent, I'm sure. But I simply cannot sleep.
I have a job for this summer (kind of - weekends only but it's a start), I'm going to the beach for a few days, I'm writing a bit, reading a ton, and running, I've started doing yoga, I've cleaned my room, I'm selling old clothes, boxing books, and I've stopped watching T.V. Basically, I'm having a fantastic time and being productive (okay, somewhat productive). But I can't help but feel slightly anxious at the thought of the coming year. I'm a bit of a neurotic - anxiety is in my blood, as well as a certain level of shyness with new people. This combination is absolute hell in awkward social situations.
The comforting thing is that when I finally get to Seattle, everyone around me is going to be so incredibly nervous about how awkward they feel and about the impression they are making that no one will even notice anyone else's awkwardness. This is one of those scenarios where humanity's tendency towards being self-involved is extremely helpful.
I know I will be completely fine. All my concerns - about the weather, about meeting people, about my classes, my professors, my dorm room - are trivial. For now, my job is to relax, do a little work, have a good summer. It's the last summer where I can behave like a kid, really (even though I am a legal adult), so I intend to make the most of it.


Recent Events Of Great Importance To Me:

  • I saw Paul Simon in concert, at the Pantages. I love him more than any other musician and I cried when he sang 'Still Crazy After All These Years'. He's getting on in years himself, but I am honoured to have had the opportunity to hear him perform.
  • I visited Seattle, where I will be going to college, and I loved it there. There is enough rain and coffee to keep even me happy. I adore grey skies, and I am absurdly excited about some aspects of my college curriculum.
  • I get to high jump in what may be my last track meet ever.
  • I am in love with Robertson Davies, who is my idol. I read 'What's Bred In The Bone' and I feel like my whole world has changed. He's utterly brilliant, and that book may be my favorite of all time.
  • I feel much older, much younger, but not a lot sadder. I don't do sad well, somehow.
  • I know myself far better than I used to.


L’esprit de Escalier

It's only after I leave you that I feel it.

One, two

I was so sure there wasn't another step there.
Positive, in fact,
but I missed a thought in the dark
(I mean, a step)
and nearly fell.
Collapsed at the bottom of these paneled stairs
staring dizzy and bleeding at the top
I see the spirit of the staircase:
Mocking me.



Where I now put things I like so I can find them and remember where they came from.


It's Coming On Christmas, They're Cutting Down Trees

I've been cutting out snowflakes and paper chains and taping them to my ceiling. It looks as though a flurry of snow passed through my room, and the white paper flakes cast shadows on my walls. My room smells like holly and evergreen and beeswax, this time of year.

I've been drinking cappuccinos and eating flour less chocolate cake with people I haven't seen in months. I've been drinking tea (with a half spoonful of sugar and just a splash of cream, thank you) and decorating sugar cookie rabbits and stars.

I've been watching Amelie and envying her short dark hair and bright lipstick. I skip stones too.

I've been listening to soft Christmas songs and making latkes and going on long walks in the cold and wishing it would snow. I've been reading about physics and eyeing my worn copy of the I Ching, ready for New Years. I've been dreaming and stuttering and smiling for no good reason, just tripping over my words and falling gracelessly. I've been wrapping presents with unusual care and staying up late. I've been impossibly fantastic lately, thanks for asking.

River//Joni Mitchell
White Winter Hymnal//Fleet Foxes
Holy, Holy, Holy//Sufjan Stevens


Make A Noise And Make It Clear

[via weheartit.com]

This is my absolute favorite show, currently. Blame Robyn. West Wing and Star Trek and The Big Bang Theory are all on hold for Merlin.
Just look at them! They are so adorable. I mean, part of the reason that I love this show is that I have always loved the Arthurian Legend (I read the original Le Morte d'Arthur, went through every novel that I could get my hands on that dealt with the Knights of Camelot, and was obsessed with that time period when I was young). But also look at how sweet they are. And, I have to say, they are goofy enough that it is lots of fun to be obsessed with the actors. Colin Morgan and Bradley James mess around constantly, on and off set, and there is plenty of video and photo documentation. Lip syncing to 'You're The Voice' is just the beginning.
Love me some Arthurian Legend!

You're The Voice//John Farnham



I wasn't feeling too well this morning, mostly because I was up late last night. Robyn and I went to hear a classical concert at the Segerstrom Concert Hall in Orange County. The music was absolutely beautiful, especially the second movements of the Rachmaninoff piano Concerto and Dvorak 'New World' Symphony. I always love the second movement when it comes to classical music. It's always sad, but in a good way. Melancholic, really.
Anyway, despite being exhausted, I decided to go to the Flea Market because I really needed to do some Christmas shopping there. This is what I wore:

[Plaid Skirt: Thrifted, Blouse: Flea Market, Oxfords: Flea Market]

I got a lot of elderly people coming up to me and saying that I 'really took them back' and that when they were my age that a lot of girls wore skirts like this one.
I think it says something about my clothes if old people go all nostalgic on me whenever I leave the house.
Site Meter