A prayer

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
Forever in the next.

Amen.

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