something about this just makes me feel old.
so. things going well at school, so well that i don't have time to myself to write about how well it's going. that's the measure right there. how often does that happen? keeping me away from the computer for a while because there's various levels of fun to be had, up early daily and always cycling into itself, one statement: it's great to be here. the days are long and the weeks are long and we all talk as if we've been here a long time. "oh, we used to..." referring to something from mere days ago. it's lovely.
then why did i go home? practical concerns, wanted to see the cat, see how my sister is doing in the dawn of her high school years. they moved the house around while i was gone, and home is never the same as it was when you left it, mainly because you've changed...but there i go again. i'd been gone, what? not even two weeks. and i didn't stay. just spent the night in my bedroom there, which is starting to serve as something of a storage area because no one really lives there most of the time. ah, growing up. wanted to come back to salem as early as possible so i was up just before the light this morning, window open, house darkened and silent. when i would have been waiting for the bus in earlier days down the street. that bed is still comfortable so i went back to sleep. all of it felt like travel, like i actually belonged at some hour of the intermediate night at some third place between where i came from and where i am now.
then why did i go home? practical concerns, wanted to see the cat, see how my sister is doing in the dawn of her high school years. they moved the house around while i was gone, and home is never the same as it was when you left it, mainly because you've changed...but there i go again. i'd been gone, what? not even two weeks. and i didn't stay. just spent the night in my bedroom there, which is starting to serve as something of a storage area because no one really lives there most of the time. ah, growing up. wanted to come back to salem as early as possible so i was up just before the light this morning, window open, house darkened and silent. when i would have been waiting for the bus in earlier days down the street. that bed is still comfortable so i went back to sleep. all of it felt like travel, like i actually belonged at some hour of the intermediate night at some third place between where i came from and where i am now.
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also me
- city lines magazine
- twitter (annus_mirabilis)
- ashley (almost a love song)
- kayleigh (i [verb] you)
- nicole (raise your hopeful voice)
- alli (what an odd-sized explosion.)
- haven kimmel's blog
- sara benincasa
- wonkette
- i blame the patriarchy
- who is ioz?
- a softer world
- toothpaste for dinner
- natalie dee
- married to the sea
- dinosaur comics
- xkcd
- terror island
- the perry bible fellowship
- cat and girl
- björk
- the decemberists
- the weakerthans
- sigur rós
- stephin merritt
- norfolk & western
- the essex green
- of montreal
- elephant 6
- arts&crafts
- laura veirs
- mary timony
- cbc
- alt weeklies
- al jazeera english
- george galloway
- marxists internet archive
- world socialist web site
- the pinky show
- quotidiana
- exit mundi
- the millennial abyss
- the revealer
- killing the buddha
- the brick testament
- colbert nation
- mcsweeney's internet tendency
- the brazen head
- iq infinity: the unknown james joyce
- ulysses by james joyce
- the leonard cohen files
- only revolutions
- luminarium
- geoffrey chaucer hath a blog
- haven kimmel
- purity of heart
- banana yoshimoto
- jeanette winterson
blogs
webcomics
music
news and political
curiosity, entertainery, and literary
about
-
me: aspiring writer, 'music nerd,' seeker of beautiful moments, college student, armchair theologian, nominal quaker, 'the diet coke of emo with no caffeine,' eclectic left-winger, and generally someone who thinks about things too much.
this: unedited, uninhibited, and uninteresting thoughts, nebulous stream-of-consciousness ramblings of memory, inside jokes, obscure references, emotional paroxysms, and slices of life. sometimes there are pictures.
what people are saying about me
'...something entirely different from anybody i've ever known.'
- krystin
'...a nice boy.'
- laura
'...a maoist!'
- greg
'...elevate[s] emotional self-destructiveness to an art form.'
- greg
'...my favorite pixie.'
- lizzie
'...a damn good conversationalist.'
- kelly
'...blue-raspberry [pie]! or or maybe cranberry raisin.'
- becky
'i feel like a wide eyed kid in the socialist candy store...and [he's] the clerk.'
- christine
'...far too sensible and perceptive to be straight.'
- catherine
'...not british.'
- catherine
'...would have made a good medieval monk. one of the non-crooked ones.'
- catherine
'...should have been born a dolphin.'
- elizabeth
ATOM 0.3
'life was just a series of things i'd read about coming true.'
-- michelle tea, the chelsea whistle
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