"Three Words, Eight Letters"

Gossip Girl is over. I am officially out of shows. And sadly, I am not satisfied with the goodbye. I didn't get a romantic scene from Chuck and Blair to watch over and over again. There was only one really great song, and it only lasted for 30 seconds. Gossip Girl, I gotta say, the young Bass with the bow-tie was not enough to make up for the lackluster finale. He should have had a curly-haired sister at least.

But I still love you. On Thursday I wore a headband and my watch-locket from the Empire State Building to honor you. I didn't wake up in time to curl my hair, but I did my best without my own Dorota.

I guess it's time to start my Dawson's Creek marathons again.

waiting

While writing in school, I would sometimes physically feel this rush of inspiration, and I would know exactly what the essay should be. After putting the idea into words, I would look back at what I had just written and be amazed that it had come from me. It was too complete, nearly perfect. I had found a piece of my truth. I guess this is what I am waiting for right now. I want an epiphany to surge through me and leave me with a vision of my future so gleaming that I know it wasn't really from me.

An Epigram

Hearts break for what wasn't there, not for what was.

Sometimes I wish I were a hipster.

I listen to what would be classified as hipster music. The wool sweater that was a hand-me-down from my great aunt Dorothy is one of my favorite things in my closet. I rarely do my hair, opting for the natural look most mornings.

Yet, I am not a hipster. Not in any way really.

On Halloween, my mom took these pictures of the pumpkin I carved. Definitely not up to hipster standards--they were taken with a basic digital camera, not with film or instagram, and my posing is all off.  Not to mention the amateur carving that says very little about socially conscious issues or art.

  

 I know I am getting hipster boots for Christmas though (I picked them out with my mom on Black Friday, and she is wrapping them up).

Everything about this post just further proves that I should move on from my hipster aspirations.

Things I Remembered About Myself

• I am not a morning person.

• I am all for organization, not habit.

• I wore headgear*. How could I forget this about myself? I mean seriously! The other day I had a dim recollection of it, and I had to consciously call back the memory of the hot pink teeth-moving machine. The real travesty is that my mom didn't take a picture to document it. Then I could have a gem like this pic.                                                                                                                                     *I should probably clarify that I only wore it at night, so it was never actually embarrassing. But Still.

• I love celery. I love everything about it.

• I was once obsessed with Twilight. You should really see The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn Part 2. It is everything you could ever want from a movie.

New Job Theme Song

Tomorrow is my first day of work. Guess it's time to grow up, which means getting out of bed before noon.

Wish me luck!

Oh, and I will probably sing this in my head all day for encouragement.

I used to close my eyes to what stirred under my bed
Now they're open wide to the monsters in my head
Instead of claws they whisper lies, sinking fear in quiet steps
So I will fight in the light 'til I give my final breath 

P.S. Their cover of "Mr. Brightside" is gorgeous.

Update

Well I made my decision.

I accepted the job in Salt Lake.

I am excited about it, but I can't say I am happy about it. Yet. I hope that's really the case. That one day I will wake up and realize how ecstatic I am about this life I never pined after, but got nonetheless. I have an inkling that that's not how these things work though. So I will claw and pray my way to happiness, and hope that it won't take too long. Because I am completely freaked out that I made the wrong choice.