I think I’m finding the happy medium between growing up and staying young, and it starts with becoming a healthier, self-confident, happy girl.

I’ve never had anyone in my life make me feel the way he does. He’s the best thing I could have ever asked for. There’s just so much goodness. I couldn’t have asked for a better morning, either. I’m just so happy when I’m with him. It’s like nothing bad can hurt me when I’m with him.

Read More

 Waking up to the ever burning question of what I’m doing with my life, what my future looks like, why it is I’m failing so hard at most things, how maybe Dr. W was right about how living your life for others is no life at all, how I have no clue what I want for my life —- is a crazy thing to wake up to.

Thank God for music, coffee, and cigarettes to wash it all away.
But what I really want is resolution and answers. 

When the semester gets rough, dream of summer.

cold beer on sweltering hot, southern summer days and nights

belting out along with my favorite songs, going to shows,

working hard, playing hard,

cuddling next to him on camping trips and looking up at the stars, swimming in the river,

channeling Esther Williams in wardrobe styling,

crossing off things on my “before I’m 30” bucket list,

and making it the first summer I can look back on and relish in the magic of it forever. 

I told him of my eating disorder, he told me of his bipolar, and how all his medication is working perfectly now though. He held me tight and kissed me on the forehead while everything we’ve been hiding and holding back to protect ourselves melted away.

He laughs and gets really happy over kittens, and shudders when we talk about spiders - and keep talking about horrible spider stories even while we’re both completely grossed and freaked out about them.

My head resting on top of his shoulder under his chin is the most perfect and safe place. It’s as if nothing can harm me when I’m with him.

I don’t understand how he could ever find me beautiful, but he tells me multiple times within each hour he’s with me - his eyes as honest as the day is the long.

I don’t know where this is leading, or what’s going to happen, but I’m happy. I’m safe. I’m not going to worry even if none of this works out long term.

I’m just so happy he’s in my life, and that I’m in his.

We just started reading The Bell Jar in my textual analysis class, and I feel like Sylvia Plath/Esther Greenwood is narrating my college experience in so. many. ways.

It probably doesn’t help that a woman I’m super close to and admire asked me today (because of my trip to the mountains and whatnot) if I’m manic.
I’ve never thought myself to be manic. I don’t generally have a happy medium with moods. I go from extremely happy, to nothing at all, or blocking out sadness. I feel that’s normal in some ways though, right?

 I wonder - if someone were to know all my thoughts and such, analyze them, how crazy they would think I am, if I’m crazy, or what the outcome would be.

A native American grandfather was talking to his grandson about how he felt. He said ‘I feel as if I have two wolves fighting in my heart. One wolf is the vengeful, angry, violent one. The other wolf is the loving, compassionate one.’ The grandson asked him, ‘Which wolf will win the fight in your heart?’ The grandfather answered: ‘The one I feed.’

The snow came down hard and covered everything,
the pickup truck was sliding on the road (which is really fun when no one else is on the road),
we fell asleep in each other’s arms while watching BBC Top Gear on the futon,
I woke up next to the boy I’m slightly smitten with,
and received an email about French class being cancelled today.

My life is really lovely right now. 

 At five feet and three inches tall, Nicki Minaj was believed to have weighed 140 pounds last April, and is perceived as nothing less than sexy. (Even if I think her music isn’t anything special)

Weighing a substantial amount less at an inch taller…Regardless of the fact that I looked bloated and puffy today, it has me wondering about something.

Is “sexy”, “pretty”, “attractive” tied to any weight? AND why did I feel the need to know this when seeing a picture of her - noticing her thighs shape?

I’m ready to put all of these societal, preconceived notions of beauty to rest and just be me. It’s going to take some time. Since the throws of the semester started, I’ve gone from the teens to the twenties in weight, and I shouldn’t care. In fact, I should be happy that I’m making attempts to be healthy. 

The only way to improve society as a whole is to improve and grow ourselves. I doubt I’ll ever have much of an impact on society. However, I’m not going to let it bring me down to its level anymore.

As for tonight, I’m going to make my schedule of to-do’s for tomorrow, dance to Fitz & The Tantrums, and enjoy my night :) 

Wise words from the facilities manager in our music department…

I always love the ‘profound’ statements folks feel compelled to add to the bottom of their emails or messages. I find it a challenge to think in my mind the radical opposite of the intention of the statement. I really like the message below because I think here at the University, and all institutions of this nature we need to take it to heart.

The function of a school is not to help kids do well in school.
The function of a school is to help kids do well in life. —Elliott Eisner

My response is- Does it make sense for the goal of the University (that ever useful function of naming the institution to avoid individual identification) to be to help students continue on in education, receive a terminal degree, where by then they will get a job at a Univeristy. If this is indeed the case then are we really not just a self sustaining job training program. Foget about the part about life.

I wrote a post earlier that sounded like I was upset.
However, half of the time when I sound “upset” on tumblr, it’s usually me processing things that I didn’t process in my journal earlier in the day. And I’m actually upset maybe 1 out of 10 times. I wonder if I should be upset, though.

Should my behaviors be concerning more than on a “oh shit, this just happened” level rather than downing the coffee, blasting the music, and forgetting anything truly painful actually exists in the world?

I like the feeling of existence, of just being. I like the feeling of the music washing over me and feeling the rhythms and timbre, et cetera, without any regards to the world. I like listening to Mr. Blue Sky when it’s grey skies, and whimsical indie folk with bell sets overlaying the top when I think I’m near crying.

I wonder if that’s weird to most people.