What’s more #beautiful than the streets of #boston on a #rainy #day? .. Nothing. (Taken with Instagram at City of Boston)
June32012
May192012
Mother Tiger and Cub by Juniors Bildarchiv
April242012
Its a New Day
Day 2 of the last week of college.
Yesterday was a bit of a rough day. I was down about my thesis and its slow decline, I have been struggling through some family issues, and I have been facing the frantic end to my college career and all the emotions that come with that. However I did it in style. Rather then attempting to accomplish anything, I cleaned my room, I organized, I lit some candles and I read. Basically I gave up on saving yesterday and being productive, and looked towards the new day.
as a result. Today has been great.
I woke up early, I did laundry, I showered (for the first time IN FAR TOO LONG) I packed up my stuff, I got a coffee and a breakfast sandwich and camped out in a different study area to mix it up.
I also have amazing friends. Thanks for everyone who has shown support and expressed excitement for me during my last week of college. It is touching and means alot to me, especially when coming from the unexpected sources. I have forgotten how amazing the people around me are and deal with my daily crazy. Its easy to get caught up in who isn’t there for you, and instead remember the people who are.
I have finished my three final reviews. Which was a large section of my yesterday to do list. I have a schedule and a game plan. I am soon going to think about lunch, and continue to edit and work on my thesis. I have a million fun activities planned for the weekend and of course the upcoming weeks. 
It is a new day.
9PM
Last week
I am officially on my last week of classes in college.
It is Monday.
I have three reviews to write.
I have a thesis to edit and turn in.
I have a final research paper to do.
I have to write a paper on my internship, and the things I have learned. (also add they offered me full time for the summer!!)
Then I have to present my thesis.
…………and I am done. With college.
Over the weekend I had my last Accepted Student Showcase. It was bitter sweet. Sweet because I was exhausted from dancing all night at our Suffolk Spring Ball hosted at the Taji the night before. Bitter because it was the last time I would be speaking to a room full of students telling them what made me come to Suffolk.
So many thoughts in my head. I plan on tracking the entire week, many people are focused on the start of their college experience, but what about the end. Here we go.
March232012
This. Is. Hilarious.
(Source: hellashadow, via theanimalblog)
March72012
“Nothing is more powerful then an idea.”
http://vimeo.com/37119711
March42012
You’ve got the love
Oh senior year. You scare me so.
Had a lovely lunch/brunch with the crazy Copeland crew today and it was beautiful, filling, and drunken as per usual with all my family gatherings. We caught up on: Hockey, College Applications, Studying abroad, Neighborhood things, Mustaches being Shaven, College Teaching, Weight Watchers, Little to no thesis talk, Cruises, and touched upon my future plans. I expressed small concern and confusion about where I see myself in the fall, and my fathers response (2 bloody marys in) ….
“Sweetheart, just follow your heart. (big bite of salad) If you do that you cannot do wrong.”
Here’s a question, why don’t I use that to solve all of my problems?
haha
Thanks Dad.
March22012
March 1st. We have no snow alllll winter and march 1st it snows.
February252012
What happens if you fall in love with a writer?
What happens if you fall in love with a writer?
Lots of things might happen. That’s the thing about writers: they’re unpredictable. They might bring you eggs in bed for breakfast, or they might ignore you for days. They might bring you eggs in bed at three in the morning. They might wake you up for sex at three in the morning. They might make love to you at four in the afternoon. They might not sleep at all. They might sleep right through the alarm and forget to get you up for work. They might call you home from work to kill a spider. They might refuse to speak to you after finding out you’ve never seen To Kill A Mockingbird. They might spend the last of the rent money on five kinds of soap. They might sell your textbooks for cash halfway through the semester. They might leave you love notes in your pockets. It’s an unpredictable life.
But what happens if a writer falls in love with you?
This is a little more predictable. You will find your hemp necklace with the glass mushroom pendant around the neck of someone at a bus stop in a short story. Your favourite shoes will mysteriously disappear, and show up in a poem. The watch you always wear, the watch you own but never wear, the fact that you’ve never worn a watch: they suddenly belong to characters that you’ve never known, but that are somehow you. They’re not you; they’re someone else entirely, but they toss their hair like you do, they use the same colloquialisms as you use, they scratch their nose when they lie like you do. Sometimes they will be narrators; othertimes protagonists, othertimes antagonists. They might be nobodies, an unimportant, static prop. This might amuse you at first. They might confuse you. You might be bewildered when books turn into mirrors. You might try to see yourself how your beloved writer sees you when you read a poem about someone who has your middle name or prose about someone who has never seen To Kill A Mockingbird. These works, they will scatter into the wind. You will wonder if you’re wandering through the pages of some story you’ve never even read. There’s no way to know, and no way to erase it. Even if you leave, a part of you will always be left behind.
If a writer falls in love with you, you can never die.
(via wethedreamers)
← Older entries
Page 1 of 10
