Sunday SUNDAY!

When I was younger I only loved summer, and I'd hibernate through fall and winter. I'm not sure if it had to do with the fact summer meant freedom, and winter meant grueling months in classrooms with that perpetual salty grit covering the floor, but this year feels different. I'm embracing the mentality each transition brings. Fall has the best clothes and people in a haze of post-summer contentedness. It's extra gold-tinted sunrises on cool mornings, and there's something inherent in it that feels like memories. Winter is protected beauty and silence. It's bundled in flannel with guilty pleasure movies, and best of all, the Holidays. Spring is for childlike excitement; planning getaways with an invigorating feeling of thinking ahead. I don't think I could ever live in a place that didn't go through a full life cycle each year. I think I've learned to cycle with it.

















New sanctuary - the East Side Boardwalk.

Silent years

I can't believe
I won't believe

Good Things

Saturated markers, city lights from afar, taking off your pants, putting pepper and/or chili powder on everything, root beer popsicles, Pacman, slow walks to and from work, approaching football season, organized lunchboxes, the thought of Christmas, My dad whining about the ugly sculpture in front of the museum every time we go downtown, love in the crazy forms I've found it, getting packages, watching Wet Hot American Summer, thinking about the places I'd like to live, parmesan goldfish crackers, having the total inability to decorate my apt, fine tipped pens, sunsets over water, obsessively searching for kittens but never getting one, the word "fictitious", bouncy balls at grocery stores, everyone in my family, fall feelings, artificially flavored grape things, being the first to make footprints in snow, that owl from the Tootsie Pop commercials, bubble wrap, Prince Fielder, Muffaletta from Glorioso's, reenacting Captain Planet, Ikea pizza, pretending I'm in a music video when I listen to my ipod.

Flat waters

To be girls.

Two Sides