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.