Quick blog to ponder the question:

Why the fuck do we ruin ourselves by waiting

until the very last minute to try to do any work,

but also spend the time before that

in agony every time we look at the

shit we have to do?

Okay, why do I do that.

I have to write a concert review,

an essay on Flaubert's style in Madame Bovary,

and read through the Emerson Review packet for

this week and make notes.

That's only what's most immediate.

Much tea.

Such stress.

Bye!

• I think I'm probably going to spend all the money on my meal plan on hot apple cider at emcaf
• I'm gonna finally do some cooking tomorrow night I AM SO EXCITED. Going to throng to the Azn supermarket with all the ah mah's tomorrow morning to pick up all the stuff. xiao bai cai, tofu, maggie mee etc. Maybe even go for a run before (HA!)
• Colin's driving us to Amherst this weekend to go to the Emily Dickinson museum/house, so I can write an essay about the impact her living situation had on her poetry. I hope to get a gravestone rubbing (her's says CALLED BACK, okay how fucking ominous is that) and some sick teen witch/graveyard girl pictures on my disposable

I want to see the moon, I want to be with you.

I am turning 22! in! two! weeks!

It's a little difficult to stomach. It's kind of ridiculous.

 I still stand in Sephora

for like 15 minutes, "testing"

$19 nail polish on all ten of my stubby fingers,

I still drink entire bottles of six dollar wine

alone in my underwear some Friday nights, still get

advice from Rookie magazine,

still cringe when I have to do things like

talk on the phone and acknowledge

friends-of-friends on the way to class.

Plus I live in a fucking dorm, so what

kind of adult skills can I pick up besides

remembering how much money I have in my
checking account so I don't get overdraft fees,

buying my alcohol in advance so I don't have to run

to the liquor store when I'm feeling too lazy,

and closing the door all the way

when I'm trying to get down with my boy.

I don't know,

I'm still a scrambling mess of fear and neediness and

sadness and boredom.

Who Sees You

I'm one of those idiots that get into music cautiously, especially if people introduce me to bands that they like and I end up liking it too. Even if I had dabbled a little in listening to them before. I don't know what it is. Maybe listening to too many fools complaining about posers and people copying them or whatever fucked up policing-other-people practices. Go ahead and like things that you like. There are no "steps" to becoming a true fan or tests you must pass! This is not something that should stress you out. It's a fun thing.

Anyway, I've been listening to My Bloody Valentine's first two albums over and over and over this summer, and just today I've allowed myself to listen to MBV and oh god, everyone fucking run to your nearest internet search engine and download yourself that shit, or buy it if you're so inclined. It's going to be Fall and then Winter, and I'm going to sit my ass indoors and look at the snow fall through my huge window while blasting this shit (HEY MAYBE SOMEONE SHOULD GET ME SICK HEADPHONES FOR CHRISTMAS) or I'll be gliding through the night with this as my soundtrack.

It's so good.

Heart of Chambers

1. Finally applied to the two student jobs that I would be the most okay with doing, and if I don't get emailed back by the end of this week I'll apply to a couple more.
2. This semester I will go to quidditch practice and games more. I'll apply to be a reader for Emerson Review, and I'll submit poetry to Gauge. I'll go to more shit.
3. I WILL RAISE MY HAND IN CLASS and not get nervous!!!!!!!!
4. I'm going to see more of Boston/see more of my friends who don't go to Emerson.
5. I'm going to stay on top of my school work.
6. Go on kute d8s w colin faherty.

Everyone should sit listening to Beach house while looking out at Boston (and trying to do their reading responses).

If I'm butter, then he's a hot knife.

 This is probably mad creepy, but this is

one of my favorite pics of Colin, from before
we started talking, and I only knew him as The
Boy In My Literary Foundations Class. The kid
who sat in the front of the class and
had a lot to say about
Dante and Montaigne and Sophocles and the like.
We finally hung out in March, after spring break,
and I've been stuck on him ever since.
Seriously, if you looked in my brain when
I am around him, all you would see is this:

He is the most ridiculously funny person ever,

and has the cutest freckles

and is so polite and friendly to everyone

and it makes me want to squeal MEEP into his shoulder.

okay bai

Welcome to the neu (school) year mofos!!!!!!!!!!!

The view in my room makes me feel like a real person,

it calms me down. I can put my feet up on the 

window sill and sip my tea, like a fucking

mysterious and pensive girl in a John Green novel,

crack the window, let the rapidly cooling almost-fall air in.

Classes seem like they'll be pretty dope,

I'm doing American Women Writers,

Music Writing,

Literatures of Continental Europe (BOMB ASS TEXTS

THAT I AM EXCITED TO READ AND TRY TO BE SMART),

and the Art of Nonfiction.

Check out what I wore to the second day of class,

I wanna be the most irritating asshole this year.

Colin Faherty makes me so happy.

5 to 9

This summer is actually moving along pretty quickly,

which I am pretty thankful for.
My friends all either have school/work/internships

so we mostly meet late at night or on weekends.

I have a list of things that I am counting down to and

nothing makes me more happy than to see the number

of days dwindling:

17 Days til I'll be in Melbourne, where

I will get to spend a week with 

Sylvia Koh AHHHH

and see Architecture in Helsinki and

WAVVES AGAIN OMG BBs

and maybe even FIDLAR so excite.

Then the week after that is National Day

so Eva + Van + me might go to Bintan

or KL or some shit, which will be fun.

Also...7 weeks/49 days til

I head back to Boston + see Colin Faherty's face

oh my sweet lord

I can't wait.

Do ya like

 hey hey hey sup what's good, readers?

It's summer once again which means

I get to dust off my blog and pretend

I take this shit seriously.

I've been in SG for like 6 weeks I think,

and my friends are lovely but hella busy

so this summer is less crazy pants than

the last one.

I have a shit service job, I'm going to use the monies

to go visit my girl Sylvia in Melbourne next month.

SO EXCITED.

I got to see Wavves last week and met Wavvey Boi

which made my month cause that's all I've been listening

to since March.

Also that sleepy boi with the blue eyes is this boi

that I started hanging out with in March too

and I miss him lots and I want to

go back to Boston to see his face IRL somemore.

Okay clearly I can't concentrate on writing,

it's this dum job I swear.

I only want a proper house.

When I can't sleep at night and feel extremely crazed,

I definitely choose to wear more complex outfits that

take time to put together because
I wouldn't leave my room otherwise.

Been in an amazing mood otherwise.

Have been fucked up by a little

heartbreaking scenario, but

a week away from everyone gave me

time to sort out my head.
I highly recommend talking to people you

think are super cool, even if you're scared.

A lot of the time I turn people's offers to hang out down

because I'm a fucking nervous person who doesn't like

going out of her comfort zone.

But sometimes you can surprise yourself.

Moshi Moshi

Ambivalent to Valentine's Day, except it gives

me an excuse to drink lots of wine

and watch Blue Valentine with 909 tonight

(THE GOSLING!!!) and rain down

h8 on couples everywhere hahahahahhahah jk.

Decided to just go with the "theme" of the day
(what was it, love, money, bullshit?)

so I wore my heart tights

& fuck my socks off socks

from the NYC museum of sex!
Anyway, I made this mixtape for my lovely roommates,

but you guys should be able to listen to

good music too, so here you go xoxo

I think I'm crazy baby, let you off the hook too easy.

I don't even know which boy

is frustrating me right now.

I won't treat you like you're oh so typical.

I was really hurt because I thought we were friends and it was the way you took a few moments to think, after the initial "god, no", and reiterated your wish not to live with me next year. Other people got a pass, or a drawn out maybe, but I was a strict no.

I assumed, of course, that you were tired of me being drunk and sad and a mess all the time, because you were the one who would have to hold me, or put me to bed, or let me cry on your t-shirt. I got that, but what I didn't get was why you'd let it go on for so long without complaint, only to allow yourself to hate me and not want to be around me. I thought you cared, and I thought we were beyond not telling each other the truth. Or maybe this was a delayed truth. I don't fucking know. I was angry at you.

So I cried like a dumb fool and rejected the chocolate you got for me and put my arms up in fight stance when you tried to hug me. After awhile, I made myself suck it up and asked if I could talk to you.

I sat on my bed cross-legged, facing the door, when you bounded in, and flung yourself haphazardly on my left, with your legs V-ed out around me.

"So what's up?"

I was steeling myself for seeing all my embarrassing behavior through your words, which I knew you never bothered to mince ever.
"I think I know why you don't want to live with me, but could you just tell me specifically?"

"I am scared I would fuck you."
A beat. I kind of stopped crying because I was reeling from ...just...
"Wait, what?"
"I'm scared I would end up fucking you."
"Oh. Okay. I thought you hated me for being a mess and was wondering why you didn't just tell me to shut the fuck up and go the fuck away."
"Yeah...no. There's this weird sexual tension and I'm scared we'd fuck and it would create problems in our friendship."

I raise my hand slowly like I'm in class and admit my guilt too.

A letter I wrote to Brett in class when I was trying not to cry, but didn't give to him because it was too revealing.

I want to say I'm sorry. I'm getting tired of myself too. I don't know how I got here. I really hate how it sneaks up on me. I fucking hate not knowing what to do. I don't think I'm a helpless person but it kind of looks like that right now. It's a fucking joke too. If we can fucking laugh about it, because it happens so often, then I think it has gone way too far. If I could leave, I would. I want to sleep forever. I'm sorry I'm so stupid and such a bother. I'm sorry I hijacked your day/week/time to be sad. I'm sorry I insisted on drinking. I honestly thought I was okay. I'm sorry I'm making this all about myself. I guess sadness makes you a selfish person. I just really am sorry. I'm so lost and I just want to go home.

While they be sleepin' I be onto that new shit

 I just want to wear all black outfits always

and give #deadface

and have it be my job.

thnx.

Nothing Like The First Time.

Guys I found this in my drafts and can I just

say that I am FUCKING SMOOTH:

You were a stumbling mess,

grease in your hair and a button up shirt

and I probably wasn't in any better state.
The longer I looked at you though, the more

glad I was that my friends and I had returned

to the bar where an older guy had been plying

us with drinks, and then taken to

watching us dance on the small revolving platform.
We ran away but had nowhere else to go,

all the other places were closing or

winding down to their last customers,

and our drunken logic took us back

to the weirdness we had just fled from.

I took my place back on the moving floor

and you turned me around

as gently as a drunk person could, by the shoulder.

So we were grinding a little bit, not in a get-a-room way,

but in a hesitant, slightly restrained and polite way,
testing each other's limits.
Your palm grazed my ass.
I leaned into you.
Your friends were leaving so I asked,
"are you leaving with them?"
You said no.
"But do you want to leave with me?"
I told my friends I was going home with you,
you took my hand
and we ran giggling out of the bar.

world princess

Guys it was like motherfucking -12 celsius yesterday or something

fucking a.

Just...Stay Home Club, be Chun Li, hit that captain morgan, be a fool 5 eva.

A Brief Yet Triumphant Intermission

Just want to wear black drapey things forever.

Brett said his parents said that I seemed like a

very happy person, and he said that I was depressed.

"everytime i see you you're cry."

This was never true before.
Okay, maybe that's a lie. But it is also true

that I laugh a lot. Maybe I just feel things

in extremes?

Anyway, today was the first day of school.

NO FRIDAY CLASSES SUCKAAZZZZ!

But of course I am trying to get a job which will take

up my Fridays urggggh money.

Anyhoo, this first week back is ridic cause Monday is

MLK day so holiday up in this suite!!~~~

Can't go on a four day bender though,

cause I have writing to do and shit to read

and what not.

If you leave, don't look back.

(Skype with Makpichay, Stay Home Club)

Hey.

So I went to the cape to visit Brett

and we watched ALL of Girls season one,

Butter, The FP, some Buffy (boffy), and Mansome,

and played a board game and video games

and ate lots of fast food

and drove around in his white beetle.

All in all a good expenditure of time.

I actually really like Girls and I like

Adam's character, and I told Brett that

I wouldn't have minded terribly if Adam had peed

on me in the shower, because we would have been

in the shower but maybe that makes me

a sociopath.

*

Narcissistic blog 2013

 Haven't figured out who I wanna be

or what I wanna look like this year.

Leave the lights on, you're all I see.

Aiight luvrzz, it's time for

a SUMMARY OF MY WINTER BREAK SO FAR

and a SUMMATION OF 2012. Fun times.

Here's my lovely suite 909. Jen is going

off to the castle (;_;) and I am gonna miss her

v much. Julia, on the other hand,

hath returneth from Well and 

will be living with us!!

 I saw The Starting Line for the second time,

this time at the Dise in Boston, for the

10th year anniversary of Say It Like You Mean It.
Kenny is 28. He wrote those words when he was 18.
Can I just say that he knows how I feel

and thus I feel a little smidgen of hope?

I got to hang out with Qixuan so much this break!

She had been doing her study abroad at MICA

in Maryland, and then we proceeded to say

FUCK OFF FALL SEMESTER 2012,

and peaced out to Orlando to rendezvous.

It was lovely. We did Universal + Disney + swam with

manatees, our longlost animal brethren. 

This was all weirdly planned, 

so we flew back to Boston and NYC,

THEN THE VERY NEXT DAY SHE TOOK THE BUS TO BOSTON

for a Duxbury Christmas.

Then she left for NYC, with me trailing a day after. It was

all very silly and strange.

I didn't fall in love with NYC but I could, you know?

That feeling of maybes and possibility and hoping

and adventure.

Also maybe because of this:

Nowhere is home

 anymore.

 Anyway,

farewell 2012.
I'm trying to leave a certain heartbreaker behind

but it's hard cause he's so cute and he

kisses well and is an amazing big spoon

and gets me drunk and giggly and

he's funny and

is a tattooed fiend which
JUST GETS ME YOU KNOW.

But of course he's a dick.

What's new.

In summation,

I'm slowly rolling into 2013

when I should be charging at it.