Story, Goal, Song: part III

It has been one of those lazy winter break days – one of those in which my most “energetic” moment consisted of shyly bouncing to “Steal My Girl” amidst the racks of polos at American Eagle. The remainder of the day was spent either laying down or sitting. And although I remain sitting at this moment in time, I am telling myself this is productive. I’m producing words. It’s a good thing my standards for myself aren’t this low when school is in session…

Anyway, this is my third “story, goal, song” post. If you missed the first two, you can easily find them here or here. For those of you who are caught up/don’t care about the previous installments, let’s get this show on the road.

A story: This will not be story, but rather some stories, because apparently I get a thrill from breaking my own rules. And admittedly I just can’t decide which 2014 concert I want to single out, so I’m taking the wordy route (a road I travel frequently) and telling a story about each of them.


The 1975: The initial struggle to find any joy whilst sinking into a shrieking pit of flannel-clad flower crown-wearers ceased when my sister and I withdrew ourselves from the tangle of teen girls. Upon our arrival in the breathing zone, we made friends (by means of eye contact and the occasional smirk) with a dance-crazed Ian Somerhalder doppelganger who made the already-delightful music of the 1975 even more so. I will always remember this beautiful man. And I will always wish I had joined in his dancing. And married him.


Bruno Mars: I thought I was one of the few who could claim having a Bruno Mars-obsessed mother… until I went to a Bruno Mars concert. Surprisingly middle-aged crowd there. A great show, nonetheless – if nothing else, proof of how futile my previous efforts not to love him were. In the eternal words of REO Speedwagon, I can’t fight this feeling anymore. He has found his music niche, he owns it, his band is SO FUN to watch. Might have taken a leaf from fake Ian Somerhalder’s book and danced a little.

Chris Thile & Edgar Meyer: (sadly no pictures were taken at this show – cry with me) One of the perks of being a college student is discounts, considering my friends and I paid a mere $10 for this concert while there were well-dressed old people shelling it out in the $50s. Tough to beat. Especially for Chris Thile, a world-renowned mandolinist, and Edgar Meyer, a world-renowned bassist. I already wrote an entire post about this, so I’ll try not to repeat myself, but watching these guys was a wonderful mix of easiness, tension, and perhaps hypnosis. And to my delight, their newest album, Bass + Mandolin, is nominated for a Grammy.

photo (36)

Relient k: A concert I was not planning on attending, but I ended up (accidentally) emotionally manipulating a scalper into selling me a ticket for roughly $2 in profit – sincere thanks to that man, as a Relient k concert was precisely what I needed. It served as a reminder that, no, I have not outgrown a good, brash punk song with a redemptive bridge played on piano, and YES okay I still love Matt Thiessen. ‘Twas an evening of friends and nostalgia, and is there really a better combination? Doubtful.

A goal: This is just speculation, but I think humans like knowing where they stand with other humans. I don’t mean this to be some bitter reflection on the world of dating, in fact I’m not talking about dating at all – isn’t it just nice to hear “I’m so glad you’re my friend/sibling/personal chef/dentist” every once in awhile? One of the people I’ve grown really close to in the past year is so unbelievably talented in this area, always genuine, and it’s something I’ve really come to appreciate about her personality. Unsurprisingly, it’s something I want to bring into my own life. I want to affirm people, whether that means telling someone their hair looks nice or yelling “YOUARETHEBESTIMSOGLADWEREFRIENDS” in an unsuspecting person’s face. To put it concisely: I want to get better at out-loud appreciation, because people deserve it.

A song: It’s somewhat surprising that “Don’t Get Married Without Me” was my most-listened-to-while-driving song of the summer because, traditionally, car time is harmonization time, and it is so hard  for me to find a singable harmony for this song. But I love Punch Brothers, so I forgive them.

Ah. Reminds me of July.

Hope you have the least manic of Mondays! Till next time xx (that was me trying to be British, did it work?)


How I know it’s spring.

I don’t really keep it a secret – spring is my favorite season, and it always has been. I love summer, I love fall, and I love winter, too, but there is something about spring that makes me want to sit in my window, read a good book, and have a cute little songbird come perch on my finger (this has actually happened before, no lie). I just love everything about it.

I have been particularly anticipatory of this spring. I remember days in February when we would catch the faintest glint of sun, and I would run outside in a t-shirt and sunglasses even though it was only in the 40’s. There were many times when I would find myself moving from campus bench to campus bench, following that tiny bit of bright warmth. If spring were a boy, I would want to marry him, but he would probably file a restraining order against me because I’m too pushy. That’s just how it is.

But now – finally – after months of imagining cherry blossoms and clear blue skies, my season has arrived. I’m generally a pretty happy person, but now I just have the urge to frolick everywhere, which is embarrassing and not an exaggeration at all. I am breathing in the smell of flowers and I can see the mountains so clearly and I am just so in love. I have quite a vivid imagination, but I can’t imagine a time or a place more lovely than the Northwest in the spring, and I can’t imagine better people with whom to spend it.

How do I know it’s spring? Well first of all, the spring equinox happened. I am also officially on spring break. So those are pretty clear cut. But there are a couple of other things that always seem to signify spring for me: wanderlust and happy music.

I told one of my roommates last week that I always feel some degree of wanderlust, but my levels see a steep, steep increase once spring comes along. This year, that spike is attributable to Aerial Americaaka one of the best shows to ever grace the pages of Netflix. For a long time, I thought everything I could ever want to see was somewhere across the ocean – Italy, Morocco, Japan. Even now, one of my most-sighed phrases is “I want to go everywhere,” but I feel like my previous attitude has changed a little. Of course I want to see Rome before I die, but I also feel like I’ll hate myself if I never drive the Pacific Coast Highway in its entirety. Thanks to some striking aerial footage and history-focused narration, I’m determined to embark on the ultimate road trip across America and see all the things and meet all the people and yeah. As I said earlier… I want to go everywhere.

And what is a road trip without great music? Answer: a shitty road trip. Luckily I have been able to compile a list of songs that are evocative of spring (for me, at least), most of which are featured in my two-disc “O Canada” collection – being the queen of thrusting mix CDs at people who don’t ask for mix CDs, I couldn’t not play DJ on a quickly-approaching two-day excursion to Canada with my roommates. A sample:

DSC_1158If there is one song that has prepped me for my favorite season this year, it is “I Can See Your Tracks” by Laura Veirs. I’ve probably listened to it too many times, but judging by how quickly I go through jars of peanut butter, I am not one for moderation.

So there we go. Yes, spring makes me a very sappy person. But trees are sappy too, and people love trees. (please love me) Okay bye!

Week one.

Rain is a somewhat disheartening way to start off the new year. So is a hefty pile of class readings. But by some miracle, I am a happy camper.

I’ve had bad years, I’ve had good years, I’ve had years I can hardly remember (aka middle school). 2013, I think, was an important year; I’m hesitant to say it was ‘pivotal’ since, you know, I only have ten days of perspective. Nonetheless, I spent a lot of my time thinking and listening and – this is the exciting one – speaking. I won’t start yanking everyone on-board my crazy train of thought over the past 12 months, that’s not what I want to write about today. But I am an increasingly sentimental person, so how could I let an entire year of smiling and crying and laughing and internally screaming at people slip by without at least writing a paragraph about it? That’s right. I can’t.

Anyway. About a week ago, I was not feeling the new-year-new-quarter excitement. In fact, I was being reduced to a puddle of tears – sitting on my floor, listening to “Antichrist” by the 1975, and experiencing a new and dangerously intense wave of sobbing every time the lyric “and I love the house that we live in / and I love you all too much” found its way out of my speakers (does this story make me more endearing? probably not). Quite often, I find myself dreading the inevitable pain with which life will one day smack me, and this, friends, was one of those dire times. “LOVE IS PAIN. TIME IS PAIN. PAAAAAIN.” (sidenote: sometimes I think I should get one of those choppy emo haircuts and write depressing poems on my hands in sharpie, like really.) Generally I’m a reasonably optimistic person, so this is not how I pictured day 4 of 2014.  You can’t really anticipate the bad days, but they happen. Conversely, though, you can’t predict the days that’ll be the happiest of your life. And eventually I realized this. And I got up, and I took a shower, and I ate craisins and watched Lost*.

And in the days since – despite the rain and the pages of reading piling up – I’ve done a lot of smiling. I’ve enjoyed some fantastic company. I’ve learned so much in my classes already. And I’ll be damned if I haven’t savored the moments when I can just curl up in my bed and stare out the window. Ahhhhh. Life.

In other news, I rearranged my room and it's basically heaven.

In other news, I rearranged my room and it’s basically heaven.



I was going to try to document my outfit everyday, but then I quit. Oops.

I was going to try to document my outfit everyday, but then I quit. Oops.

As you may have noticed, I gave my blog a little makeover. Not crazy about the size of the text, but I can deal. Makeovers are fun.

Here’s to the (ten-day-late) New Year!

*I am on season 6, and seriously (!!!!!) if anyone spoils this for me I will make your life miserable. Already had a spoiler scare when I watched This is 40 a few days ago, DO. NOT. WANT. AGAIN.