healing and learning.

whooops! started the reverb10 project late and of course already fell behind. I am going to blame that one on finishing up finals and driving home (speaking of which, does anybody have a Garmin brand GPS? I am convinced that mine has a lover in the Adirondacks, because no matter where in New York I am headed, it takes me through them. My theory is that all Garmins have a counterpart in various areas, and I'm gathering data to prove or debunk this theory).

Anyways, I'll skip ahead to today's reverb10 prompt: healing. what healed you in this year? was it sudden, or drip-by-drip? how would you like to be healed in 2011?

2010 was an interesting year in that I did not have any open wounds, per say. Nothing was explicitly wrong with me, my life, or anybody in it. My healing process, therefore, was less of a mending and more of a discovering.

I changed a lot in 2010. I guess in this way, I healed the mental severances that I held between who I used to be and who I am now. This process was extremely gradual, and began right after I returned from abroad last winter. I realized that there is more to life than what I, or anybody, am single-handedly able to experience, so we may as well make the most out of the moments we do have. I healed the part of me that used to get nervous or stressed out about schoolwork or other things. I healed the part of me that tried to hard. In that respect, I learned what was truly important and worth putting effort into and what was trivial. I healed the part of me that thought I could do everything alone. I can't. I healed, and was able to let somebody back in.

I healed the part of me that unfortunately and unattractively was always in competition with others. That is totally gone. I healed my self-doubts, turned them into encouraging thoughts.

I realize the above probably makes me sound like I think of myself as some sort of quasi-Buddha. This is the last thing I think of myself as. As I have healed mentally, I have realized by ability to help other's heal too. That, my friends, is where I want to go in 2011. I truly believe you are not capable of helping another person until you have first helped yourself. I have spent the last year helping myself, now, let's help others.

This post leads into the prompt from December 17: what have you learned about yourself?

I have learned I am a lot calmer than I thought I was. I have learned how to embrace the now and let things play out as they will. I have learned I am a writer at heart, but I am still introducing myself to my inner voice. I have learned what works for my creative process and what does not. Going forward, I will spend more time paying attention to this voice, as I have learned that more than anything, this is me. I have also learned that I can actually dance, but we will see where this goes!

Enjoy the cleansing process.

5 minutes

Reverb 10 Prompt, December 15, 2010. 5 minutes to remember your year in 2010.

This is very choppy, but it is an adequate representation of how I think about things.

Falling in love. Realizing it is one year closer to graduation. Having my first “real –life job.” Returning to tennis after a year away from the sport. Recognizing my loss of passion for the sport. The feeling of loneliness, hopefulness, annoyance. Being okay enough on my own to let somebody else in. Weddings. The feeling of being sleepy 24/7. The best living situation of my life so far. Mistakes early on in the year that are rectified later in the year. Standing up for myself. Limo wine tour. Helping a friend out, on more than one occasion. Recognizing the power of my own voice. Letting go. Loosening up and believing. A year without a new piercing! Getting close with my sister. Feeling like an adult. Debit card fraud. Bitter, bitter cold. A new style. Long hair. That feeling. Stars. Deadmau5. New friends, reconnecting with old. Taking charge of my academics and making them my own. Frustration. Crying just because I could. 6 hour solo drive. The year that flew by way too quickly.

Enjoy the reflection.

appreciate

fellow bloggies-

I come late in the game to this, but, from now until the end of December I will be participating in Reverb 10. It is a chance to reflect on this past year and figure out where we are going. Check it out at www.reverb10.com

Today's Prompt: December 14: Appreciate. What have you come to appreciate most in the past year? How do you express gratitude for it?

As cheesy as it may sound, this past year I have come to appreciate my connections with others, whether it be my amazing parents, nutty sister, loving boyfriend, my carefree house mates, or my driven teammates. Connections make my world, and this year I would be nowhere without any of this important people. I have learned to never underestimate the power of love and to appreciate the glow it brings us all in it's own way each and every day.

Connections are not tangible but they are the most important fabric of our world. I appreciate the comfort I get from picking up the phone and calling my mom simply because I miss her and need her advice. I appreciate my sister's new-found spirit and sense of self, how she combines her new San Fran lifestyle with the VT homebody she will always be. I appreciate the ability of my tall, goofy, redheaded boy to cheer me up with one look, crack me up with one word. I appreciate his attentive ear and love of the bear hug. I appreciate my roommates dealing with me at my worst, the numerous nights spent unproductively in the living room, discussing how we should be doing work. I appreciate each of them for who they are. I love our late nights and early mornings, the bagels that are ALWAYS in the fridge, our open closet policy, our random texts. I appreciate my narrative professor's ability to make me see through the words on the page into their deeper meaning, that little extra push that feels like a huge horse kick at the time but totally pays off. I appreciation his appreciation of my "art." I appreciate the connections with my 'tennis girls,' the every-lasting love that only a two teammates can feel, the girls who push me to sprint faster, work hard, lift one more rep. I appreciate my long-lost abroad friends, the ones who introduced me to British life and made me feel more than I ever have in my entire life.

Most of all, I am learning how to appreciate what I am to all of the important people in my life. I see now that the only why I can express my pure, unrelenting gratitude to them is to give everything they have given me back to them, and more. I want to make them get the same joy out of me that I get out of them. I want to individually thank them for each moment that I will never forget. I spent 2010 working on who I am, and I am planning on spending 2011 helping the ones I love to figure out who they are.

I appreciate love, yes, but mostly I appreciate the grounding and stability it gives me. I am truly lucky to have this many amazing people in my life, it is uncommon to have more than one truly great friend. For everybody who needs an extra ear to listen, shoulder to cry on, laugh to laugh with, I will try my best to be there for you. The one way I can express my appreciation is by saying thank you, but I cannot say it enough.

Enjoy that loving feeling.

this is all i know.

This is unacceptable, actually. 6 weeks with no new post. It is not that I have nothing to write about, I do. It is not that I have haven't had the time to sit down and write, I have that too. I lost my voice. It was mute for approximately three months. I was talking, talking, talking. What was I saying? Nobody knows.

I had a minor break down in a professor's office. I was knee-deep in criticism of 19th century advertising techniques, and my writing went into the shit hole. I was regurgitating nonsense, claiming I agreed with theories I didn't, and name dropping left and right. I had no creative inspiration, even though I loved the project. "Writing Down the Bones: Freeing the Writer Within" was the solution I was offered. I ate it up. I regained balance, gravity, in my words. I find myself to be in a state of turmoil, struggle, unclarity. I still am, but reading helps.

Let us not forget that college is still technically real-life, even though hopefully the real world does not involve awkward encounters, tangled hearts, chugging coffee and living off of grilled cheese sandwiches and York peppermint patties, seeing 5 hours of sleep as great, and letting nothing phase you. Hopefully the real world is more emotional. Maybe it is not. I'll see when I get there.

Now is now, then is then, and finishing this essay has to happen sometime in-between.

Enjoy the words your brain leeks, let them go, continue, move on.

today, i'm thinking of you in a new way.

It has been a while since I have posted anything. I have been in a weird place, senior year is freaking me out and I am just trying to enjoy everything about while I still can. It is going by wayyy too quickly, and I have some major decisions to make.

It is hard prematurely letting things go, but is the heron ring really worth it?

Wish I had Ray-Ban vision right about now, but then again, who really wants to know the future?

I was a dagger, but in whose heart?

Will I regret what decision I decide? Is it time to move on and leave everything despite how far I have come, or do I stick it out because we all know I can? Green and Gray and White have much more meaning than they technically should. Are we going separate ways, don't I get a say?

In the context of the earth, does it even matter? not really.

Enjoy the feeling of not knowing what is coming out of your mouth until it happens.

i fall in love with the light.

My writing clearly comes in waves. The lack of posts have simply been because I am a senior taking 5 classes and playing a varsity sport all while freaking about my future. My creativity has been stifled and replaced by close reading, which I do enjoy but it does not leave much time for blogging.

Listen to: Alex Winston

Check out: the Stuff White People Like posters

Read: "you shall know our velocity" by Dave Eggers

Go See: "you will meet a tall dark stranger"

Rent: Hitchcock's "rear window"

enjoy the culture shock

i'm not the only one you tried to save when you fell out

Last night I saw a man in the moon and today my life changed.

That sounded much more drastic than what actually happened, but, last night marked the last night of a surreal week in Blue Hill, Maine with the boyfriend. I say surreal because I took myself out of the real world (trust me, that was much needed) and into the world of relaxation. So we head down to the dock to look at the moon. Romantic, connecting with nature, the usual.

So I look up, and see it: a face in the clouds with the moon as the eye. But the face keeps changing, first he is smiling and then he is crying and then he is smirking... his hair grows and grows and then he disintegrates. I said "that was interesting," and Peter says "why did that happen?".

What I learned: people process things differently. Peter always questions, wanting to know why things work out the way they do. I let them happen and try to feel them as they come. We sat for what seemed like hours, our feet dangling off the rocks into the Atlantic, the moon reflecting off of the water, my head buried into his shoulder, just observing. A rocket went around our brains, but mine was calm and his was highly caffeinated. I was seeing, feeling, and not wanting to understand the beauty of the world I habit to frolic around in, he was asking himself, "why this moment, why us, how are we here and not over there?"

We talked. I cried, not willing to comprehend the sheer unpredictability of the way his thoughts work. I cried for not knowing why things happen, for what happens after we float away, for being there at that instant. I guess the moon crushed my thoughts and made me go deeper, and I wasn't ready.

What I truly felt last night was connection. A spider web of wound worlds, twirling and seamlessly entering and leaving my brain through my ears. I was connected through touch, sight, sound, feel, not just to the person who was next to me, but to everybody. I imagined brushing through the clouds, fizzling up and down and up again, just to experience it. When I came back down, I realized that my connection to this world depends on my viewpoint of it- and that that bigger something will eventually reveal itself.

Enjoy the trip to the stars, and don't worry about missing.

p.s while the above images don't have anything to do with the experience I was describing, they do show Acadia, and an eagle, which are pretty cool in their own rights.

the stars will rise again.

MGMT at the Burlington waterfront as part of the Lake Champlain Maritime festival was terrible. It really truly saddens me to say that, but eh, you can't win them all. This is what happened:

1. Gorgeous night in BTV, hit up Manhattan pizza and mosey down to the waterfront.
2. Meet up with the high school buds, hit up the beer tent, which had Harpoon Summer IPA. I'm set.
3. Observe wanna be hipster 12 year olds wearing butt-bearing short shorts and chain smoking. Huh.
4. Instantly become surrounded by gaggles of these goofs, and try to come up for air, only to witness butt-grabbing by a couple half my height. Ugh. Back to beer tent.
5. The opener, Violens, were actually great, and loved the lake. Check them out here: http://www.violens.net/ and download a free summer mix tape. AWESOME! They were into it, I was into it, and the teeny boppers were doing their thing.
6. Break and stage change, wandered around enjoying the stalls selling stuff, ate Lucy's Kettle Corn, and ran into people I hadn't seen in ages.
7. The bar mitzvah-aged crew multiplied, and we somehow ended up next to a whole group all of whom were already dancing. oh no.
8. MGMT opened with a mellow "Pieces of What," which I loved, but made the teeny people nervous, because they didn't know that one. In fact, the only ones they did know were "The Three."
9. This is why the concert sucked: the crowd sucked. I am not saying that to be a stuck-up musical elitist, but they did. Bands, especially good ones like MGMT have more songs that then three most popular ones, so before you go to a concert, listen to their albums. Don't stand their complaining that you don't know any songs, because all 1,000 teeny boppers complaining at once means that other people trying to enjoy the show can't hear.
10. To the group next to me: if you continue to smoke that much, you probably won't live too long. Also, next time put on some clothes and for god's sake PLEASE never elbow anybody in the hip again. I have a nice tennis-ball bruise, "thanks girllll."
11. What I did enjoy: "Pieces of What," "Weekend Wars,""The Handshake," the three (of course), "Congratulations""The Youth." Wished you had dug out "Indie Rokkers" though, and where was "Future Reflections"???
12. I like bands with energy. I knew MGMT was pretty spaced out in general, but I somehow I expected more. Great encore though, I'll give you that.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pa68DLIgQfM

Enjoy "the call to arms to live and love and sleep together..."

All in all, a disappointment. But, that is just my view, "if you feel it, I'm a believer."

the world spins madly on

Summer is winding down and that means I am that much closer to being a senior in college. Gross.

Sometimes the world feels empty, sometimes it feels too full. Sometime I wish I didn't note feelings, maybe I wouldn't think so much if that were the case.

Today I did an ab work out in my office. I also listened to only the Grateful Dead and Deadmau5, which is an interesting combination.

I also was highly spaced out.

Go to: mgmt tomorrow at the Burlington Waterfront.

Check out: http://www.chocolatebobka.com/.

Enjoy getting lost in thoughts while wishing you could stop thinking for a minute.

you know the routine.

Like with most things in my life right now, I decided that I needed some direction with this blog. I thought about what I am interested in (which is only interesting things, of course) and what it came down to was this: words, music, fashion, films with quirky people in them, environmentally conscious living, and cracking jokes. Clearly, I am interested in many interesting things.

So, even though there a bunch of blogs about all of the above, I decided I would try my hand at making this blog one more devoted to the culture of everyday life. That means random music reviews, random film reviews, random fashion reviews, etc. I will still have my random life rantings too!

And so to begin. Last night I fell in love with technicolor images being projected from my TV onto my eyeballs. Context: I was social for about 45 minutes, which is probably my max currently, and met an old friend for drinks in Burlington. Then he went off, and I got sushi and drove home listening to 3 different renditions of "Wild World" and trying not to get toooo annoyed at the out of stater who thought the speed limit was 25 miles an hour. I came home to an empty house, so plopped down on the couch with my tuna rolls and peanut noodles, and 'Youth in Revolt,' the film with Michael Cera, by Miguel Arteta. At first I was dubious (Sinatra, really? Slightly too cliche) but it was the dead-end images that grabbed me in, and the often too overt sexually overtones that give the whole film a hazy, burn-out feel. Enter Francois, Cera's evil without shame alter ego, in his white pants and cigarette glued to his lips, and the sexual overtones because sexual fury. Poor Nicky. I wasn't sure who to root for, Sheney and her conniving ways forcing Francois into a rat race out of his life, or Nicky, who only wants to prove himself to Sheney in a quite round-about and very illegal manner.

The soundtrack was a lo-fi, stoner one featuring Fruit Bats and Little Wings, which at times felt too sticky sweet, but made you fall for Cera in his too-short pants and too-tight logo tees that much more. The best music scene: Fatlip blasting from the convertible as Cera and his cougar mother and her boyfriend rolled into the trailer park, kicking up dust.

Cera confirms his hipster boy status in this film, and I confirmed my longings to redo high school, all the while telling myself it was okay not to be social for on yet another summer weekend.

Enjoy the eye candy.

the party's crashing us now.

Clearly, the message here is that I am terrible at keeping up with this. I really want to be an actual blogger person, but my creative juices are just blahhhh after a day of work, tennis etc.

You know that feeling of being lifting out of yourself and into a higher place? That sounded religious. But seriously, when you are like floating above and observing? That happened a few times last night. I was at the Of Montreal show, and fell in love with the world again. Funny that listening to men wearing glitter make-up and tight purple pants made me do that, but eh, whatever works.

True creativity is hard to come by, yet is something that we all strive for, in our speech, dress, Facebook profiles, cars, whatever. Individualism is almost dead. Almost. Yet Kevin Barnes made me once again believe that people are unique. Or was it the pigs that made me believe? Doesn't matter. "The Past is a Grotesque Animal" was where it actually hit me- once the past is past, it is past.

So dance around in purple pants (I got mine at TJ Maxx, if you are wondering), wear feathers around your head, sing off-key at the top of your lungs, pretend you are Darth Vader, fall in love (trust me, it is a wonderful feeling), stay in love, be in love with the world and everybody around you, be a party person dancing to the indie stars, wear bright yellow jelly sandals even though you are now 21 years old... the list goes on. "Don't worry about a thing you know your path is true, just ease your mind, have a banana or two"

Get creative, and stay creative.

Enjoy the wonderful feeling of the world being new again.

Image from www.ofmontreal.net

suddenly it occurs to me

I have 9.5 (I was born at 7 ish AM June 23, 1989) hours left of being 20. That means I have 4 years to go until 25, 9 until 30, and am 8 years from my 13th birthday. holy. effing. shit. I am old.

Instead of being thrilled that I can now get my social drink on without worried about that little thing called being underage, I am terrified to the point of complete breakdown at the fact that my "younger years" are literally flying by me and I am pretty much clinging on to a string that is about to break from the force of me trying to pretend time does not actually exist. "Time" timing is everything. There is no time. I haven't had time for anything but. Wind was blowing, time stood still. Time.

I love watches. I asked for a new, colorful, chunky one for my birthday. That is probably my biggest walking irony. I hate time but love having it on me. I can't go to bed if the time does not end in 0 or 5, nor can I wake up if it 6:46 and not 6:45, per say. Many days I sit at my work desk, checking the time every hour or so, wondering when it is time for me to leave. I learned timing is everything, and we finally got it right.

Time is not measured by minutes or seconds or hours or days or years. Time is measured by fullness, lives lived and lives touched, experiences created, adventures tried, fears conquered, tears shed, obstacles met, bliss touched, pain and emptiness and sorrow that in the end makes us who we are, love felt, connections, moments when that make you think "that just happened." I have experienced all of these things. In that respect, I love time. Give it time, time heals, without time the world be chaos.

I want to experience the chaos of the world without time. I want to fall freely down down down in a timeless, zen-like state. I want to stand on the edge and feel time crash around me till I become one with it.

My impending 21st has made me realize that Jerry Garcia was right. It is "such a long, long time to be gone and a short, short time to be there"

Be present. Embrace time. Accept the chaos that comes with moving forward. Cry or yell or scream or be silent or run all night or drive all day or stay in bed with the covers on but then move on and laugh. Live, that is all we have time for.

Enjoy the time of your life.

not much of this makes sense to me.

Confession. I have never actually made it through Jack Kerouac's "On The Road." I am an English major, so when I tell people this they usually respond with a huh? The truth is that I haven't yet been in the right mental state to read it. Sal Paradise is in a state of flux, he is after all, traveling across the open roads of Western America. He is searching for a form of humanity, an authenticity that intellectualism doesn't quite grasp. His name, however, is quite ironic because if he is called "Paradise" you would think he would be able to find it anywhere, even in a crammed apartment with his aunt in New York, but I guess not. Poor kid. Instead, he is looking for real life experiences, pretty girls, apple pie and ice cream, a reason to live. Aren't we all? So why haven't I ever made it (until today) past the first 3 chapters?

Unclear. Perhaps blame it on my inability to question situations, or not. Blame it on the fact that that is exactly what I want to do but have always had strings attached, responsibilities to fill, no money to up and leave with. Perhaps my abroad experience was my intro to Kerouac. I am now connected, cued into his mode of thinking (though getting fully into his brain would be insanely scary, thank god IBM's Watson can only answer Jeopardy clues and can't yet read minds, or maybe that is how he knows the answers. freaky). "On The Road" is the teenage boy's dream life, which is cool I guess. I am still not convinced that Kerouac is a literary genius, but maybe I'll find out in chapter 5.

Enjoy the open road, and hitchhiking.

we can listen to the dark side of the moon.

So here is the thing. Summer is awkward. It always is, because it is one giant transition of time, space, and being. I miss the people at school, but not the place itself. I love the physical beauty of VT and if my HWSers could teleport themselves here stat that would be great.

But in all actuality, the feeling of not belonging in a place I should belong in is not exactly fun. Maybe it is because I wasn't cool in high school, or maybe it is because I was too cool. Nobody knows. The point is (wait I have a point?) is that I am not ready to face the prospect of actual life, which is a nutty realization because I thought I was living in actual life for the past 20, almost 21 thank god, years. As I have probably said before, living in bubbles is a great alternative to facing reality.

So let's all pop in a CD of ambient noise, roll down our windows, and drive around aimlessly in the summer rain. The reconnection to actual life has to start somewhere.

Enjoy the blurriness of the in between.

art house director. or something like it.

I have been back in the glorious eightohtwo for approximately a week. and guess what? I am already going somewhat crazy. I have slept more than any person should possibly be allowed to, have watched more episodes of "Greek" than is probably healthy (it's just sooo addicting), wandered around more random clothing stores on the search for "internship appropriate" attire than I would like (you know it's bad when not one but three J.Crew worker people ask to start you a dressing room and then one asks for your number and that is when you tell him you hate pencil skirts and mini cardigans and blazers and can't actually afford any of these things anyway. My mom said that was mean of me. She was probably right, but that was the truth and I enjoy telling the truth when it needs to be heard). Oh yeah and I have gone on 4 runs and played a few games of tennis just to break up the routine. So that's cool I guess. THANK GOD my internship to end all internships starts on Monday.

What internship? Public Relations Intern at Green Mountain Coffee. Buzz Buzz Buzz. Pretty much perfect.

So I guess this summer will consist of me being a responsible adult, which clearly will not be a problem considering as I am one, saving money to buy internship clothes once I figure out what is acceptable (and sorry buddies at J.Crew, can't really go back there), and trying to figure out weekend plans to visit people (Maine, Phili, Western NY anybody??) and getting pumped for the epic epic concert season that will be occurring, beginning with Michael Franti on June 5, Jason Collette (if that name doesn't ring a bell or make you melt, spot reading right now) on June 12th, FURTHER with Phil Lesh (!!!!!!!!!!!!) on July 5, potentially The Swell Season on July 28th, and MGMT on August 12th. And of course techno raves and lady gaga are in the works. don't judge.

so that's it for now. I am supposed to be researching for my analytical discourse I.S but blehhh not really feeling that at the moment. Especially when there have been about 1820919820917329837 books written since the 19th century and I have to find an undetermined amount of suitable ones. Trippy.

Enjoy the sun, wear your SPF 70.

if you're seeing stars just deal

done done done done done done!!!!!!! this means I am a SENIOR at William Smith College. Gross. Still feeling like a frosh who has NO idea what is going on. Will probably always feel like that. Innocence is bliss, but acting innocent is even more blissful. you can get away with more!

A list of things I have learned this semester:
1. Grades don't actually matter. Seriously, they don't. There are much more important qualities and aspects to a person that whether or not they can get good grades. So next time you are competing over them or feeling like a loser because your best friend gets A's and you get B's stop stressing asap and realize that in 5 years when you are in grad school, working your way rather quickly through your trust fund, being a ski bum, working your dream job, getting hitched in Vegas, WHATEVER you are doing you will not be concerned with what number was next to your name when you graduated from undergrad. Or at least I hope not.
2. There is nothing a nice bottle of CherryPharm can't solve.
3. The British got it right. Surrrriously.
4. Money comes and money goes. This year more money went than it came, but that is life, eh?
5. People also come and go. Those that matter will stay or find a way to weasel their way back to you.
6. Discourse analysis of 19th century novels better be fun.
7. Broken Social Scene are musical gods. Also the people behind the Hood Internet remixes are too.
8. The HWS library hierarchy. NERD ALERT. yes I spend way too much time camped out on the third floor (stern windows side) probably practicing discourse analysis, so I notice the huge influx of um Smithies during exam week. Please note: your level of productivity is totally determined by your choice of attire. jeans and make-up: limited to none. spandex that show wayyy more than they should: eh. sweats and t-shirts?: that's a bingo. and no make up. please. and put the blackberry down. who could possibly be texting you every 3.5 seconds? Just learn the material you have been blowing off for the past 12 weeks and please please please stopppp discussing your plans for that night, not everybody is able to go out every single night of the reading period! done ranting.
9. Having a huge room with two windows is not all it is cracked up to be. be prepared for randos knocking on your window at all hours just to say what up, which is pretty friendly of them I guess.
10. I have more British humor in me than I originally thought I did. Which is FUN!
11. Spaces are important. Physical, mental, every type of space. They matter. Cluttered is fine, as long as you don't constantly lose your iPod.
11.5. Places create your person. Each one matters. Nature has more of an impact than not.
12. Woody Allen.
13. We're safe for the moment. Still in the bubble of college. Don't prematurely burst it.

enjoy the feeling of great accomplishment as you realize you are DONE (don't you feel older already??)

I get world sick every time i take a stand.

ALSO:

NEW BROKEN SCENE TRACKS EXPOSED, the new album 'Forgiveness Rock Record' drops may 4th. go to their website www.brokensocialscene.ca to hear some yummy tracks.

ENJOY BSS.

Whatever Works.

Stuck in rut. Or something. But broke out recently, and MAN it is good being reunited with the world.

I truly credit my new found sense of um not happiness because I am always happy in some way, but ironically upbeat attitude to my main man Woody Allen. After the 3.5 weeks straight outta academic hell, I made the executive decision to blow of reading 'Vanity Fair'(sorry, professor, I read ummm 30 pages of it!) and instead focus all of my spare time on Allen's 'the Insanity Defense' during spring break (I also need to take this time to apologize to my gorgeous teammates who had no idea why I was laughing so hard I started silently crying on the plane after a ridiculously boring lay-over. Read the book and you will understand). I have decided that Woody Allen, as nutty and twisted as he may be, (I mean seriously Woody, you thought marrying your step daughter was a good idea? Okay,when we finally meet we can discuss life decisions. I give good advice.) is my intellectual soul mate. Why? Because he made up his own history of the sandwich and presents it, with what one must imagine to be a completely straight face. 'After four years of frenzied labor, he is convince he is on the threshold of success. He exhibits before his peers to pieces of sliced turkey with a slice of bread in the middle. His work is rejected by all but David Hume, who sees the imminence of something great and encourages him...' Now that is excellent writing, something which we could definitely not come across in 'Vanity Fair'. Okay, so how does this relate to my new outlook on my current situation (stuck in Geneva, not sure if I should be here, etc). Well, it taught me to eat more sandwiches. Kidding. In actuality, I realized that the light of situations can be found when we least expect it, but when our inner voice knows we need it the most. I guess I needed to be reconnected again with with my nutty side in order to see that I am truly okay.

New attitude: 'All I know is that nothing moves faster than the speed of light, so we may as well relax' ('Whatever Works).

Enjoy the random laughs that come in 'the strangest of places, if we look at it right' (garcia).

there's a darkness upon you that's flooded and light

When I first finished George Eliot's novel The Mill on the Floss, I thought I found a book to add to this list of books that have changed my life. So far, that list is quite minimal, only Dave Egger's The Heartbreaking Work of a Staggering Genius, John Irving's The World According to Garp, and Milan Kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being are on that list, so needless to say I was pumped at the notion of adding another one because it makes me feel very literary and smart. As soon as I started developing a thesis for my midterm essay for my 19th Century English Lit course on The Mill on the Floss all passion for Eliot's work flew out of the window. Ugh. It just caused me to question why. Is it the system of education I am trapped in that makes me this way? Is it the fact that I want to separate myself from knowledge that is put on us in order to choose my own way of thinking? Seriously developing a thesis for a book I loved was the hardest thing, and it seems odd that this would be the case. Some things are better left unexplored, the more poking and prodding that goes on ruins the initial and unconscious love.

Enjoy the thesis? ew.

it's bigger than hip-hop

Oh dear. I clearly have not done a very good job of keeping this up, so the best-of lists are on the back burner (thank you, junior year of college). However, I came across this epic mash-up on YouTube (a close second to pursuing the Sartorialist as a procrastination activity, again, thank you junior year of college) and felt the need to share it with whoever may stumble on this.

I LOVE mash-ups. Milkman, Girl Talk, Norwegian Recycling, SuperMash Bros, you name it. There is just something so satisfying about hearing a bunch of your favorite jams all mushed into one epic track. So when YouTube suggested I listen to this one mixed by The Hood Internet (not sure who they are but hey), I was like OKAY COOl and dug it immediately. It is (drum role please) Dead Prez's 'Hip-Hop' combined with Grizzly Bear's 'Two Weeks.' Epic. The best of both worlds, independent hip-hop and independent ambient folk, who knew they would mesh so well?

Dead Prez vs. Grizzly Bear: Two Weeks of Hip Hop

Enjoy the beat!

music is what we like to play

It is about a month late to begin 'best of' lists, but in order to avoid reading Charles Dickens' "Hard Times", I am going to embark on a 4-6 part blogging spree documenting my personal lifetime 'best of' lists. First up? Top ten best songs, in my own personal and highly qualified opinion. This list is result of digging through my overcrowded i-Tunes library, rando mix CDs, my last FM account, and my YouTube history (because let's face it, as much as I enjoy jamming out to Timbaland and Nelly Furtado, I don't really feel like purchasing their one hit single together and adding to disgusting amount of money already in their bank accounts). ENJOYYYY

10. 'Stars Go Blue'- Ryan Adams
Okay, this is not even the original version (we can thank the Corr's for that stroke of brilliance) but something about Ryan Adam's unrelentingly raw voice when he sings 'dancing through the underground' makes me think back to every London Underground experience I have had and want to teleport back there ASAP.

9. 'Gagging Order'- Radiohead
Radiohead is my go-to band when I am feeling depressed, strung-out, tired, sore, annoyed, etc. Basically they just let me wallow in my funks without seeming too pathetic. 'Gagging Order' is no different. The first time I heard this track I was fighting my way through a 30 page politics term paper, highly caffeinated and high strung at approximately 3:00 AM. Thom Yorke hit me hard with 'I know what you're thinking, I'm not your property', and I remember being transported back to crevices of my brain that I never knew existed, memories that I had blocked out surfaced and came alive in vivid colors. While the initial jolt of the track has worn off, it continues to soothe me nonetheless.

8. (Disclaimer: I am cheating here because in actuality these are three separate songs on the album but I think of them all as one, plus who is counting?)
'Looks Just like the Sun', 'Pacific Theme', 'Anthems for a Seventeen-Year-Old Girl'- Broken Social Scene. The first time I heard this album in full, I was 14 years old. It was summer, I had just bought it for myself for my birthday. I popped it into my CD player, sat on my bed, opened a book that I immediately closed, and just listened. It was the first time I had fallen in love. It was the first time I felt music pulsate through my every pore. It was the first time I got lost in my own head. Then this trio rolls around, and I was literally dumbfounded. To this day 'Anthems for a Seventeen-Year-Old Girl' plays in my head in every major life event. I lay in bed every night, listening to this song on my head phones, falling in love over and over again with Emily Haine's voice as she croons 'used to be one of the rotten ones and i liked you for that...'

7. 'Sweet Disposition'- The Temper Trap
This song makes the list because of the memories associated with it. And because it is pretty catchy, but mostly it is because of the memories, mainly from abroad. I first heard this in Koko, a hip London club. It was a huh moment, I stood still while the people around me continued to dance and bop, float and weave. Second time: running on the treadmill in the UEA gym (gotta work my bod). Third time: making a questionable decision at Mercy (ooops). Etc. Driving in circles around a deserted parking lot. Check. Crying while looking through abroad photos. Check. You get the point.

6. 'I Am Trying to Break Your Heart'- Wilco
Everybody who knows me knows I LOVE LOVE LOVE Jeff Tweedy. This song is why. I have no words to describe my connection to this song, except that the raw emotion on top of the almost happy riffs is the perfect combination of utter sadness and satire, 'take off your band-aid cause I don't believe in touch downs'

5. 'Leavin'- Jesse McCartney.
What the heck, JM, really? REALLY. Mainly cause the thang you got behind you is amazing, girl we flying on my g-(fly) g-(fly). Pure talent, makes for some awesome car rides to and from hikes in Vincent (RIP). Plus, JM is beyond supa fly in the music vid.

4. 'Fire on the Mountain'- The Grateful Dead
I would like to thank my father for his bazillion bootlegged Dead tapes that we would groove to on long childhood car trips. This track was always my favorite, for reasons unbeknown to me back then, except that I could scream 'fire on the mountain' with Jerry, so that made me feel really cool.

3. 'Hysteric'- The Yeah Yeah Yeahs
I don't like female artists that much. I have many criticisms of them, too whiny, too pop, too fake, too redone, too lame, too country too this too that. But I have no criticisms of Karen O, my large female crush. Her style, attitude, everything, musical talent, all work for me. 'Hysteric' off if 'It's Blitz!' is to me, Karen O in her prime. This is romantic without being lovey dovey, nostalgic without making me want to cry under my bed. Her voice is real, normal, and not whiny (sorry Taylor Swift). This track makes me wish I were cool and talented enough (again, sorry Taylor) to be a female rock star. Rawr.

2. 'Fireworks'- Animal Collective
The list would have been incomplete if I failed to include an Animal Collective track. I can, have, and will continue to listen to this one 38 times on repeat in one day. While I am sure that is super annoying to my poor bathroom-mate (the walls are realllly thin, hmph) especially when I blast it at 7:45 AM Tuesday and Thursday mornings, it will never get old to me. From the opening chord to the chorus, to the rando beats to the overdubbing to the lyrics to the everythinggg, this is song is pure perfection and started my love affair with Animal Collective.

1. 'Treehouse'- I'm From Barcelona
Again, I can remember exactly where I was when I first heard this. Senior year of high school, I was tabling for banning landmines at a Casual Fiasco concert (listen to them, they are gooood), and this came on in-between sets. 'I have built a tree house, I have built a tree house, nobody can see us, it's a you and me house' was forever stuck in my head, I would sing it in the darkroom, on the tennis court, everywhereee. My dad banned me from playing it. It is just so good, so happy, so morbid, so raw. I wish that someday I will meet somebody who will write me a song like this, totally organic and meaningful in it's quirky little way.

here i saw something i could not look over

Blogging is just so much better than reading. Just throwing that out there. Today it was nuttily (is that a word? eh it is now) blustery out and I think my face fell off a few times from the sheer brutality of the whipping Geneva winds. Ohhh Geneva. Deciding to not wear a hat was a really idiotic decision that my pre-caffeinated mind decided to make.

I really don't have a point to make right now, I am just chilling in my pajamas, drinking green tea and wishing I had thought to purchase milk to put in it like I did every morning, afternoon, and night in England. Also I fell in love with The XX's so am listening to them an obnoxious amount. Check them out: http://thexx.info/

I think some coffee residue is floating around in my tea. lovely.

I am super pumped about my film class this semester. I have always wanted to analyze film on a more organized level, as opposed to chats after seeing films with my dad or whoever else I see movies with. Plus I feel infinitely more hip cause I am studying film at the collegiate level. Last I saw 'Bulworth', Warren Beatty's brilliant attack of corporate conglomerates, in which his character Senator Bulworth decides to have himself assassinated for monetary reasons but then meets the underground black culture of L.A and decides to cancel that plan. The soundtrack is pretty fly, Beatty's rapping with crack you up, and the message of fighting out against the media and sticking up for what you believe in is good. Therefore you should rent it, analyze it, and be smarter for seeing it.

Also, a note on the recently added picture. That I took my third time at Camden Market in London, and I fell in love with each of the randos in it. I thought it was fitting for my blog because it random, real-life, slightly fuzzy, and completely authentic.

Enjoy the hipness of being.

and i'll drive and close my eyes in michagan

It is so easy to become so consumed in your tiny little bubble of a life that you forget that a. others exist and b. they may (shocker) actually need you.

What I am trying to get at is SNAP OUT OF IT. Realize, embrace, understand, be here and now always, put yourself second, envision, believe, breathe, and most of all take a step back and look around at the world you are probably missing out on.

Enjoy the opening of your eyes.

now you're in (upstate) new york.

Back at HWS again after a rather fabulous adventure of a semester. Feeling slightly odd in a place that was once so familiar, especially when walking into Saga. But eh, it occurs.

A rundown so far:
Burst into tears as soon as I saw the sign that so cheerily states 'Welcome to Geneva: Trout Capital of the World'. I am not sure whether I was crying at the fact that it said 'Geneva' or 'Trout Capital', but either way I was pretty pathetically bawling.

Hit up Res-ed for my key, enter my room, and much to my delight discover I have not one but TWO sweet windows, one of which looks directly into my tennis coach's office. Figures.

Unpack some stuff, have a goon reunion, mom leaves, yadda yadda yadda.

Blahhhh whatever. The point is classes are strange (sorry if I don't remember your name, it has been a while, though it is pretty cool you remember mine), the frats are filled with rando frosh who may or may not be wearing clothes which is always good, the gym is new and gorgeous and made me confused to where I was when I first walked in. But yet some things never change, such as Saga stomach, awkward run-ins while out, and ending up eating nachos at 3 AM, which leads to a fuzzy head alll of the next day, but I guess I deserved it.

It's good to be back on the tennis court, especially now that I have those sweet bright pink knee socks to wear to be extra goonish.

What elseeee, I don't know, it is not England, but that is not a bad thing. Nothing (except for the gym and new odd frosh) changed at Hobart, which is also not necessarily a bad thing. I perhaps changed slightly, I guess the bangs aka fringe make me look 'more European' and last night I was advised by multiple people to grow them out which is just a nutty proposal and sorry friends, is not happening, cause i likeee themmmm. Also I have become slightly more awkward considering as I don't really know people here anymore and then don't know what to do when see somebody I kind of know. But eh, life is pretty decent, so why change what works?

Soundtrack:
The Avett Brothers- Brooklyn
Kesha- Tik Tok
Timbaland feat. Nelly Furtado- Morning after Dark
Holiday Shores- Dens
Animal Collective- Brother Sport

Enjoy the awkwardness of the semi-newness that is the new year at Hobart hobart hobart ayyyyy.

and these strange steps take us back

flow sweetly, hang heavy, you suddenly complete me, hysterical.

I just re-read through my like 4 posts I have done so far and realized that each of them has the distinct tone of being slightly, well, depressed. Which is odd, considering as in person I am nothing like this whatsoever. But there you have it, I guess blogging perhaps bring out the emotional almost-artist in me. Whatever.

These past weeks have been almost unbearable. Coming back home was the biggest letdown of my life. After the bright lights and extreme newness of the U.K, the good old eightohtwo seemed too small and, for lack of a better description, quaint for me. Which upset me greatly because I realized that that makes me sound like some pretentious city-slicker who is now able to navigate the London underground successfully while carrying 3 pieces of luggage and not once looking at a map, someone who browsed Harrod's but couldn't find a lion there, somebody who regularly took trains to various cities and stayed in hostels, all without batting an eye. The first time I drove into Burlington I started crying because it hit me that it was one street. What. The. Heck. Then I went to NYC this past week and hated that too, which must make me completely anti-American, or just a wanna-be European. (And no, we will not be attending a comedy show tonight, thank you).

This is a typical day for me at home: wake up at the buttcrack of dawn aka 6:20, stumble into a black t-shirt and jeans, force some cereal and yogurt down, brush my teeth, start my car at 4:43 and sometimes brush approximately 33 inches of snow off of it, buzz down shelburne road at 6:50 but still end up late to work at Bruegger's at 7. Then I have to do something gross like prep turkey into 1.9 ounce sections or pour gobs of mayo into a squeezy container, all while trying to pretend to love life the instant a 'guest' walks in the door. I will typically work 7-8 hours a day, then force myself to go to the gym where i do mad reps duh or play tennis, which is sweet considering my new shoulder and stuff but annoying cause i kind of suck right now. Then I go home, annoy my mom, take a shower, eat dinner, read, and fall asleep at 9. REPEAT. EXCITING.

This just gets me thinking though, shouldn't I appreciate all of this a bit more? sure, it is not the stimulation of the UK, with new places to go and people to meet and things to see and pictures to take and dancing to do and train rides to get excited over and never being fully sure what just happened or what will or what could happen but it is home, but it is home. It should be what I know, but currently I am not sure what I know because it all got twisted around recently. Everything has to end and change and continue and begin again but secretly I was hoping that life didn't happen and I could deal with it all. But I can't and that is too bad.

So there it is. I need to recenter and get reconnected with my world here.

Thank you Karen O for getting me through the 'reverse culture shock'

Enjoy the re immersion.