Most likely to go wherever the wind takes her

I don't understand the present right now. I like it. But I don't understand it. WHAT IS THE MEANING OF LIFE. WHAT AM I DOING. WHAT AM I GOING TO DO. That's vague. It's unsettling. Basically I can't handle the anticipation of right now I'm just another college senior enduring the month of April. What do I do about it? Lock myself inside hours of music and just do one thing at a time.  Sound and patience. Two things I do understand.  They don't give me answers, but they must be good for something because I'm still here. Still working for it. My senior superlative was "most likely to go wherever the wind takes her." So yea, that.  

baby girls

And her mother said to her, "Pumpkin, you can't keep your dolls in the dryer or you'll have no clean clothes to wear. We can't have you running around naked." 

To which the little girl replied, "But how else can I keep them clean and warm?"

-work by Elise Goldstein 

We brought the boy's dog to my photo exhibition and when this little girl saw her, she was completely enchanted. I mean, can't stop laughing, hugging, tickling, shrieking, rolling around on the floor in joy. Elated with this dog. 

My mom caught this picture on her phone.

Notes from me to you and me

1. Can't WAIT to hear about boy
2. This is important
3. Strongly considering graduating and starting a full-time dog-sitting business at the Bungalow.  I miss last summer's various dog-sitting weekends and don't see why not making it my life's endeavor. Trial months post-graduation to see if it can cover rent/water, then I'm going all out promo, website, logo, t shirts.
4. Reverting back to IDGAF stress-management mentality, doing what I have to do, when I have to do it, no whining, huffing, puffing necessary, solo dance-party breaks optional, interval treats of frozen girl scout cookies encouraged.
5. If I want to continue wearing intentionally ripped jeans on chilly spring days, I probably will, going along with above note about stress-management. Being artistic means you can be cliche without being artistic. Whatever that means.
6. "Last day of this" and "last Thursday of classes on a Saturday in May night out" reminder emails are just society's way of breaking me down and kicking me around under the Old Well.  I'll ignore them and go out whenever I feel like it.
7. Especially thankful for the back roads these days, when there's lots to think about and not a lot of time to think unless dark, winding roads happen to lead me from one home to the other.

And you know I wouldn't leave you without something to put on in your empty apartment on a Sunday evening:

The Perfect Beach Tanning Mix from ALittLeLady23 on 8tracks Radio.

Stupid picture but stooooopid mixes. Anytime, dancing queen.

Empress of a glass of water

Writing Trying to write what I hope to be the last paper I'll ever have to write for a grade.  So instead of focusing on how dreadful this is I'm focusing on the iciness of my water. How the condensation drips down the side of the glass so slowly and how when I put the glass up to my lips the cold inside rushes onto my face and how if it were up to me I'd freeze time in one of these cold little ice cubes.  

Proof

that hard work is so worth it.

and drinking out of pineapples will be a thing again soon.

Damsel in Distress

I am so busy. Like so busy. Really confused how 5 classes worth of finals/projects are going to get done. I'm stressing about stressing, acting like I'm the only person in the history of busy lives to ever be so stressed.  I worry about not getting enough sleep, not having time to eat lunch, what's going to happen next.  I hate wearing socks with my Chucks but then my feet sweat and smell bad. I spend all my cash on vending machine food that I hate. I live for the conversations with the boy that make me laugh out loud. Do big fonts make things more manageable? I stay up all night playing out all the possible outcomes in my head and snap at my mother on the phone and start crying when I watch Disney commercials in class.  I'm a tangled, bed-headed mess of anxiety but I want you to understand me when I say that I am also happy. I think that I would rather be stressed like this than to not have anything to care about at all. 

“Dear God," she prayed, "let me be something every minute of every hour of my life. Let me be gay; let me be sad. Let me be cold; let me be warm. Let me be hungry...have too much to eat. Let me be ragged or well dressed. Let me be sincere - be deceitful. Let me be truthful; let me be a liar. Let me be honorable and let me sin. Only let me be something every blessed minute. And when I sleep, let me dream all the time so that not one little piece of living is ever lost.” 

― Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

happy

can you tell? 

Starting to feel the spring in my step

Did I tell you about spring break? It was incredible. Bahamas, Jamaica, Grand Cayman and Mexico. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I'm the most spoiled girl in America. And now the Caribbean. I got to reunite with my beloved summer wardrobe and my soul was whole again with all the tanks and short things I could pack in my suitcase. I pretty much only drank Coronas with limes in them until I discovered the kick of a Dos Equis in Cozumel. I also swam in the prettiest water the heavens ever made. I just can't believe how something can be so blue and so clear at the same time. And all the fish in that water! It's majestic, these fish have the brightest purples and sunniest yellows and deepest blacks and all with the most intricate patterns. It was unreal. I met some cool people from Manhattan. I also hid away in my book A Tree Grows In Brooklyn until I finished it. I did, and it is the best book I've ever read. I think I'm going to read it again even it takes another year for me to do it.


The week came with two nights on each end at my grandparents' and I still think that's real paradise.
I got to hug lots of family and we laughed a lot, of course.  I'll leave out the parts where I missed my flight home but even though it was an accident, I'm here to tell you getting left in Miami with your grandparents is the happiest accident there ever was. After mean-tweeting at American Airlines, the g and g picked me back up and it felt more like a treat than customer service trauma. I collapsed under the noon sun in their backyard and napped away my upset and then we got egg salad sandwiches at a Kosher cafe and ate them outside until it was time to catch the next flight home. I know everyone says this about their grandparents but I mean it when I say mine are the best.

"I have seen the future and it is good. We will wipe away the religions of old and start anew."

Joseph Stella

To quote Dona Budd's The Language of Art Knowledge: 

Dada was born out of negative reaction to the horrors of World War I. This international movement was begun by a group of artist and poets associated with the Cabaret Voltaire in Zurich.

Dada rejected reason and logic, prizing nonsense, irrationality and intuition. 

The origin of the name Dada is unclear; some believe that it is a nonsensical word. 

Others maintain that it originates from the Romanian artists Tristan Tzara and Marcel Janco's frequent use of the words da, da, meaning yes, yes in the Romanian language. 

Another theory says that the name "Dada" came during a meeting of the group when a paper knife stuck into a French-German dictionary happened to point to 'dada', a French word for 'hobbyhorse'.

Yesterday was my birthday

and this is Kim Carnes.