"Welcome back winter once again"

I've decided that snow makes me happy.

To the extent that I've been referred to as a small child quite a few times.

I can't help it. There's nothing quite like the muffled slush and crunch of stepping prancing around in new-fallen snow, cheeks red from cold and hands numb, eyes bright and mouth open from laughing too much.

I've decided that I love the way the stars feel closer in the evening, the way that I can almost reach out to touch them, and by extension, you; how clean and intimate the air can be, stinging and cold in my lungs and nose.

I've decided that I like everything about winter. Finally.

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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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'Have you ever thought about what protects our hearts?'

Poptart picnic on the floor of my dorm room, eight pages of essay printed, listening to this song on repeat, thinking of the sunrise three hours behind. Good morning.

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How I fared this past week

- Survive
- Get all my homework done
- Not get addicted to caffeine
- Talk to you as much as I can (Not nearly enough.)
- Figure out what's up with him ("Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn.")
- Make a new friend
- Take more pictures
- Watch the sunrise again (Not this week, but it will happen.)

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Goals for the rest of this week

- Survive
- Get all my homework done
- Not get addicted to caffeine
- Talk to you as much as I can
- Figure out what's up with him
- Make a new friend
- Take more pictures
- Watch the sunrise again

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Something from today

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Daydreaming

Lazy Friday afternoon, fluffy white clouds outside my open window dancing to my music, pine trees remaining stationary and silent in their vigil.

I'm swaying to this song on repeat, holed up in my dorm room, door ajar. People walk past, some going to class, others going home for the long weekend. To say that I'm not a little jealous of them would be a lie, but that's okay.

In my mind, I'm somewhere else. Somewhere warm, somewhere comfortable.

Is it December yet?

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Before Sleeping

There are so many things I want to say bubbling up inside me, but I don't know how to say them yet.

I will say this:
I love Maine. I love you. And I wish you were here to share this with me.

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Things I learned today

- social interaction is not as difficult as I once thought it was
- painter's tape makes my posters fall off the walls
- caffeine is not a good idea past 9pm
- sometimes it is all right if you're ditched
- I miss you so much more when I'm alone.

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Good morning

I'm sitting in this borrowed room, curtains drawn over the view overlooking the lake and gardens, still blinking the blur from my eyes. It's almost ten o'clock, but my body protests that it's really before seven. My mouth full of coffee and chocolate milk, ears full of Regina Spektor--this moment is hard to beat.

As hot water washed over my skin this morning, I thought about how there wasn't a shortage here, how I could take as long as I liked and only feel marginally guilty instead of being harped at by my father because of the bills. And it's gloriously beautiful here, all shades of blue and green. It reminds me of Washington last summer.

But as beautiful as it is, it's still not home. Not yet. No dry chaparral, golden and crisp beneath my sandal-clad feet; no stiflingly hot temperatures; no spontaneous visits to friends' houses. Oh, and the ocean. I don't miss her, not yet, but I will.

I feel a world away from the country I grew up in, separated by an ocean of land-water and all those millions of people who live there.

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I am now...

On East Coast time. Whoa.

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