I haven't written lately. It hasn't been for a lack of trying or desire. I've been simultaneously busy and bored out of my fucking mind. But let's forget all that. Let's move on and into something wonderful together. My spring was a tsunami of sorrow. My summer was restorative and transformative (is that even a … Continue reading Autumn of Anything Goes
When I remember my childhood, it always feels like fall. Let's not dwell on the fact that I grew up in Florida and that it was below 75 for about three weeks a year. For some reason, I remember doing arts in crafts in the front room of my best friend's house with a bunch of other girls while we waited for Girl Scouts to start. It's always fall. If that's not a season of nostalgia, I don't know what is.
I don't necessarily have anything to say, but I do feel obligated to update. Since Paris, I've been getting my ducks in a row for a big move to Boston. There'll be plenty to say about that soon, I'm sure. For now, here's this: moving sucks.
It's been several weeks since I last blogged. I'm not sure if that's because Canton is low-key, or if I'm just boring. Probably the latter. Something that I have done with great vigor lately is figuring out how to be a better person. Well, I guess to be more precise: I've been trying to figure out how to stop being such a shit bird.
I've been working hard on the same story for months. Years, really. I know I've mentioned that before, but sometimes it's hard for me to get my head wrapped around. My thesis has consumed every bit of me and there doesn't seem like an end in sight. The goal has been to write out fifty pages every week, which is an ambitious goal. Sure, I write quickly, but that much output is exhausting.
There are two things to do after you break up: 1. Do something different with your hair. 2. Grow out your nails.
I've been thinking about the future a lot. Well, that's not really surprising. I think about the future all the time, I always have. When I was a kid I would write everything down in these little notebooks that I called "Future Books."
It's Saturday morning here in the Merlin house. My sisters are watching cartoons, my dog is playing with the family's German shepherd, and I'm drinking a cup of coffee I didn't have to pay for. Living here is easy and familiar.
Last night I signed up for a boxing class membership--well, it's a little more than that with all the kickboxing and MMA classes available, too. For the sake of argument, though, I'll just call it boxing.
Tomorrow morning my father is going to rescue his 23-year-old daughter, something I'm not sure either of us saw ever happening.