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.