August NL03: Amsterdam

August NL02: To the sea

Fairly certain I had yet to sleep at this point.  Nothing like fighting jet lag by blasting yourself with some sun.  Also, god, this a total me thing to do--turn up to the beach in tights and canvas shoes.  Lord.
Katwijk, The Netherlands

August NL01: Face Wash and Inaugural Meals

The winter night London run.

[If you're wanting extra mo0dz, while reading this [moody] post, this is pretty solid:  clicktolisten]

I can't remember the last time I so desperately wished I had my camera with me.

I went running tonight.  Over the summer I worked out every other day.  Which was a real accomplishment, took some incredible chutzpah, because I have never done anything like that in my entire life.  I haven't regularly exercised since bi-weekly soccer practice during my freshman year of high school.
14390 Clay Terrace Blvd #150, Clay Terrace, Carmel, IN 46032, USA

Petite Chou, Clay Terrace

This is not Petite Chou.  This is a dinosaur.  Painted on a car.  Julia's car actually.  But not by Julia.  By her sister.

A dusty Outfit of the Day.

Thanksgiving Friday in London.

Care package from Lex.



Can you tell that I'm again going through my photo folder from the summer?  Refer to Indiana bedroom.  And plethora of sunlight.


So I really was missing Cheddars when I was back in America after living in the UK during the autumn term of 2011.  Unrelatedly, one day on twitter I saw Lex was having a bad day so I offered to send a care package.  I can't even remember what I ended up sending her anymore.  But when she received it and declared she was going to send one back, I requested those goddesses of cheesy cracker goodness.

My granddad.

Tate Britain.

John Martin. Plains of Heaven (1851-3).

Biscuit tins.

So wayyyyy back when I was making my rounds at the charity shops in London, I was really hoping to come across a biscuit tin to feed my desktop storage needs.  But I never came across any.  And then I went to M&S for some Veggie Percy.  And then I saw this and it was a fiver which felt a bit expensive.  But the tin, you guys.  Look at the color palette on this baby.  And it came with food.  Which was an added bonus.  Though these shortbread numbers were legitimately the size of my face to which I said why but okay I will still eat you can you tell that it's late and my eyes are burning and I have uni in a matter of hours goodniiiight!

Oh, and also the postbox/letterbox/what-do-they-call-them-here-? piggy bank was a gift from Essie from when she, Sanne, and I got lunch not long after I moved to London.
7230 W 10th St, Indianapolis, IN 46214, USA

Sushi Club, Indianapolis.

This is a bit of a summer throwback post.  When everything was still warm and America.

Thoughts on love.


I'm watching a lot of films lately.  Which is probably good since I'm doing a film studies course at university.  But yes.  So watching a lot of movies and a lot of old movies at that.  And cinema is often about love.  People in love.  Falling out of love.  And having watched a lot of noir films at home and then seeing The Best Years of Our Lives today I just find myself thinking a lot about what love means and how people express love and the degrees of love and how all words, all concepts are constantly evolving.

Charity shop homewares.


Post-birthday somethings.

Today is just one of those days in which I am simply all over the board.  My accomplishments since arriving home from uni today have consisted of heating up some tomato soup from a carton and devouring that with crackers.  Then cooking some pasta in the same pot, grating some Gruyere over it and devouring.  And I've now progressed to a mug of hot chocolate.

Things are starting to settle in with uni which is another way of saying that my reading is beginning to pile up.  I'm sure if I wrote out all I have to do it wouldn't look so bad.  It's more the unknown that is suffocating.  I can't decide if I'm grumpy or tired or scared or wanting attention or wanting to be left the eff alone.

I woke up this morning feeling a little homesick.  I hate admitting that I could actually miss the US.  But I did this morning.  Maybe it wasn't so much the US as it was the ease that comes with living in your mother's house.  Not having to think about the hot water running out or how much to budget for groceries.  Or not wanting to do laundry because you don't have a drier.  Because driers aren't a standard thing in the UK apparently.  It was just little annoyances like that.

And then this morning, once I was outside and off my bus and my headphones were in and I was doing the extended walk I often elect to take to get to school, I felt so much better.  I occasionally experience these strange, floating moments where I realize I'm living in the UK and that I've made this my home, and I'm incredibly proud of myself and incredibly thrilled to be where I am.  And I just sort of start smiling at everything.  That's the up-and-down / all-over-the-board bit I've been mentioning.

I'm now sitting in the dark in my room.  Cool.  My overhead bulb went out a couple days ago--hopefully I can get a replacement for that tonight when I go stock up on food tonight with Sanne.  *nurses Twix bar*

Lunch yesterday.


Finally, LUSH!


See all that stuff at the edge of the bed?  Those are documents, course reading, new SIM cards, and other general sorting out that I need to deal with today.  Now let's open up the frame a bit and see what I'm ignoring that with...

Cheatin' cheatin' cheatin'




Care package from Nora.


Letter from Marlous.


Sheboygan.


Words from places.

Good morning.  I think this is just going to be a good old text post.  No pictures.  No mishmash.  Just words.

I've been wanting to blog for ages.  Essentially since I've relocated to this neck of the woods again.  But I've mostly been keeping my writing to myself.  It's a different sort of writing, you know?  I mean, this is a different sort of writing because, while a lot of it is mostly for myself, I'm also aware that I'm not the only person who's going to be reading this.  I don't like to think of it as writing for an audience, but I suppose it kind of is.  I'm not trying to be inspirational or entertaining.  I guess sometimes I like sharing what I like in the world.  Does this makes sense?  Can I just move on from the meta and get on with the story?  Yes, okay.

So in the Netherlands I found myself wanting to write about culture shock.  Because I guess I had a bit of it this go around.  I was in the Netherlands visiting Sanne in mid-August, for clarification's sake.  What was weird was when I touched down at 6 in the morning and made my way through customs in the early morning grey and then sat in the train station/meeting area of Schipol, I felt normal.  And I was weirded out by me feeling normal.  Because here I was in a new country with a trolley stacked full of my worldly possessions.  Waiting on my internet friend I've now been friends with over four years.  And none of it was phasing me in the slightest.  I mean, I was excited that the life I had been waiting on for months to begin was finally commencing.  But usually with me there is more nerves and suppressed panic.  But no.  I just felt like I had a handle on things.  And my calm-cool-collection weirded me out more than any of these other big things I was doing.

Plane clothes--international.


 

Cheap Aural Swag.

My friend Jake has been a-tweetin' and a-facebookin' about cheap albums for sale on Amazon.  Most recently a Fleet Foxes albums that I've been THIS CLOSE to buying about seventeen times.  So I mosey over to Amazon, and they have this and a ton more Fleet Foxes stuff, and The Shins, and Band of Horses albums for just under three dollars.  And oh my goodness, these are totally a steal.  I don't have a lot of these, but I know I like them so this might be happening.

If I were to go cuckoo for cocoa puffs, the grand total would be $27*.

*prices have been changing since I originally wrote this
Park City, UT, USA

The Sundance Ascent.

Los Angeles, CA, USA

Pre-op

Out the window, on the iPhone

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