My New Favorite Thing

I decided on my little excursion all over the whole of New England this past weekend that the New England town is quite possibly my new favorite thing. I mean, it's one thing to go to school in one for a few months, but it's quite another to go across all sorts of state lines and have them all be just as picturesque and lovely, if not more so.


This is Brattleboro, VT. I took this picture as we were crossing one of the bridges across the river. On the other side was New Hampshire. It was crazy. Of course, by virtue of it being Vermont, there are hardly any WalMarts in the state, so we crossed on foot to New Hampshire to get my friend more yarn for her knitting projects.

Teehee. I promise that's not my handwriting.

Driving from Maine, across New Hampshire, into Vermont, across Massachusetts, into Rhode Island, back across Massachusetts to return to Vermont, into New Hampshire again, and finally back into Maine was quite the crazy few days. And though I couldn't go home for Thanksgiving, I'm really glad I decided not to stay at school, either. I met wonderful people and had a good time, which included but was not limited to: becoming a one-year-old's new best friend, sipping homemade wine, Seinfeld Scene-It, turkey, talking til late at night, becoming the Persephone of New England with the taste of a pomegranate, and British television.

That said, I cannot wait to go back to San Diego. <3

Hope your holiday was as good as mine.

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We were in the dark

We were in the dark, I sitting, she lying in the relative silence though Glee quietly reminded my ear drums to not stop believing. She sneezed, signaling she was awake. The clock, though recently taken to playing tricks on me and resetting itself to random intervals, spelled out in primary colors that it was after twelve.

I asked how her night was. When she spoke, her voice was tinged with muffled congestion and a sort of weariness. I could relate.

'Boys are stupid.' I fell back on that time-honored response, trying to make her feel a little better.

She agreed.

She's up now, blind drawn, light from outside spilling over her side of the room. I suppose I could follow suit, feel the metal beads under my fingers as I rediscover the window hiding behind the white canvas flap, but for the moment I prefer the artificiality of my computer, lighting my face and arms and hands. The silhouette of the friendship bracelet I've been working on obscures the upper right corner of the screen, a braided and colorful reminder of summers already experienced.

It's quiet now, she's gone, and I rock back and forth in my chair as I breathe and think and wait and simply be.

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(untitled)

The light hiding behind the blind,
streaming through the window
is deliciously impersonal,
nebulous yet familiar--
a far off smoke-tinged
dream not realized
but relived so many hundreds of times.

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poetry

There's poetry in me,
but I'm too worn out
to find it again.

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A promise and a reminder

I will not give up, no matter how awful it gets.
I refuse to stop fighting for what I want.

Be the change.
I love you.

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