I AM SICK. 

Perhaps it is my sinuses unwilling adaption to a new place, or the bevy of germs I picked up at the library computer lab. Maybe this is, at long last, my body telling me to quit burning the candle at both ends and start taking care of myself.
I was quickly woken this morning (if, in fact, I was ever sleeping to begin with) by a nosebleed. I managed to roll over just in time to save a drop of blood from landing on the 600-count pillowcases my mother discouraged me from bringing to school (leaving me to question if I am worth a 600-thread count). 
It is move-in day here, and all is frantic. Freshman frolicking around whilst their parents, begrudgingly, carry their belongings up 2-10 flights of stairs. I can remember being in that position, wanting nothing more than to sit in my room and rearrange the furniture, completely devoid of the presence of mayhem persisting outside my 8×12 dorm paradise.
Here I am now, in more of what my mother likes to refer to as a “glorified dorm.” I’m having a hard time escaping this place, though there is really nothing keeping me here. My clothes are hung, my belongings, in order. There’s nothing left for a lady to do but sit.
I’ve got a fresh haircut and a couple of missions to hold me over for the day. First on the agenda: track down some medicine for this malevolent cold.
So-long,
jc

Details, details

(Dr. Carl Sagan)

This is how I feel today, and perhaps the past few — small, insignificant, a spec of dust on a gnat. I’ve got a headache the size of New York City, I’m sleep deprived, I’m waiting for the phone to ring. I’ve felt dizzy all day and can’t see straight. Maybe these symptoms are the onset of the stress that is to come…

All I really need right now is peace of mind, to know that I am wanted and needed and somehow relevant, to feel relaxation. I am playing unfriendly mind games, jumping from one negative thought to the next. And with a day and a half left in town, pessimism is the last thing I need right now.


I am exhausted of feeling that I am a detail,   
Like a spec of dust on a gnat flying through the universe. 


THINGS HAVE JUST kind of been floating along here lately. Not in bad way at all, no; just so in a way that I am happy.

I’ve been trying to incorporate new things into my life that fortify my current rapture: learning to sew, taking more pictures, consciously spending less + saving more, attempting to be more selfless, reading a little C.S. Lewis each morning before I go to bed, etc. If only I could get my sleep schedule hammered out, we’d really be in business (not looking promising).

I really should learn to love myself more.

I have been keeping a notebook with me everywhere I go, taking random notes of my observances. I have noticed most recently since I started this trend that I tend to tune out my entire world and tune into others’. Not in an eavesdropping sort of way, but more of an innocent, absorbing way. There really isn’t any way to describe it without seeming like a creep, so I will leave it at that.

The observances that stand out most clearly in my mind are those encounters I have with parents and young children. Never are these pleasant occurrences; in fact, they are often borderline verbally abusive. I was a child once, and never do I recall my parents threatening to “take me to the garage.” Upon hearing this, the child in question asked what happens in the garage, to which the father countered, “I took you there before, remember? You didn’t like it.”

Another mother today, clearly annoyed with her children told them to “Shutup, I don’t want to hear what you’re saying.” These kids were just hanging out with her in the shampoo aisle at Target! A short while later, her phone rang and she told the caller, “I’m out shopping for the kids’ STUPID SCHOOL SUPPLIES.”

Excuse me, what?

I have never been a parent, obviously. I have no idea what the joys and terrors of parenting provide. It just concerns me a tad that parents these days are taking their children to the garage, and shopping for “stupid school supplies.”

Working in a restaurant, you see a lot of these things. Then again, I can’t go out in public without noticing these things. Why do people have their kids with them at Wal-Mart at 2 in the morning? Why am I hearing mothers tell their children, “Do I have ‘sucker’ written across my forehead in a great, big neon light?” when they ask her a question? 

What? Why?

Perhaps in future years I will better understand?
End rant.



 You take a born-pretty girl and you dress her up in pretty things, curl her pretty hair and she becomes empty. Vacuous. The only thing she can claim as a self identity is her one dimensional beauty. But take a pretty girl and throw some shit on her, and make her fight her way out of it and she’ll grow to be other-worldly radiant and a force to be reckoned with.

— Beautiful and Depraved: “6: Prettiness”
[Reposted from Tumblr]