It looked something like this, only a little less sparkly. It was better. Because I was looking at it with my eyeballs.

It looked something like this, only a little less sparkly. It was better. Because I was looking at it with my eyeballs. Also, there was a moon involved.

I’m not entirely sure who decided to call movie stars “movie stars.” They are people who act in movies. They are in no way comparable to actual stars, and I decided this tonight while I was on a quick walk around my block (the walk was quick because it was very cold and I had not anticipated quite how chilly it would be).

I looked up at the sky tonight, y’all. This shouldn’t be that big of a deal, only I realized while I was looking up that…I never do that. I don’t even remember when the last time I stopped and looked at the night sky, honestly. But it was so brilliant. I don’t think looking at stars will ever get old for anyone. Ever.

There was a moon, and some stars, and it’s not exciting to describe but…the moon was so glowy and the stars, though sparse, were absolutely luminous. That’s one of the perks of living in the country: there’s not so much light pollution to cover up the stars. I wonder what it would’ve looked like in the days of the cavemen when the stars shone through, unfiltered.

I wanted to take a picture, but there is no technology (at least that I can afford) that can capture what my eyeballs and my soul can. Because I think when you look at stars in person, there’s something that happens inside you…that little spot between your belly and your chest just glows, and it feels like it tries to reach up and touch the sky. I can’t take a picture of that. I can try to write about it, but even this barely does it justice since I keep saying things like “I looked at the sky and there were stars” which isn’t exactly poetic.

Anyway, it made me think that, even though I try to appreciate my surroundings whenever I think of it, I don’t think of it enough. It’s my March Resolution now: notice things more. It feels nice to see beauty.

Also, I’m listening to this right now and it’s making me feel so happy, and I think you should listen to it, too. A little folk-rock for a Friday evening. I had so many tests this week my brain is sliming out my ears, and I like to think this music is healing me.


Is There Some Kind of Lesson Here?

This is definitely not me. Definitely. Not.

College is not what I expected. At all.

That’s probably my fault, honestly. I had these dreams about going away to college and truly realizing who I am and what I’m meant to be, and I’ve thought about going here, to this specific place, since I was 12. So I guess it’s all the fault of my hyperactive imagination. It’s because I’m not realistic at all, and I have these delusions of grandeur that most likely make everyone around me want to slap me and say, “WAKE UP! YOU’RE INSANE AND I AM NOT PRINCE ERIC!” That might be my boyfriend talking…or it might be what I imagine he wants to say, since he’s much more patient with me than I deserve sometimes (“Michael, why won’t you write me a letter every day? TWICE A DAY?! Is that too much to ask?”).

But anyway. College isn’t what I expected. It’s lonely and kind of sad sometimes. Don’t get me wrong, I attempt to make the most out of situations, and it’s not bad, it’s just…different. I thought I wanted to get away from my hometown and now all I can think is, “Why does it rain so bloody much here?” One of my suitemates took a shower this morning and it woke me up, the water hitting the wall that my bed sits against (obviously the shower is not in my room, but the water was hitting the wall on the other side…), and all I thought was “Dear God. Rain? AGAIN?” Fortunately that wasn’t the case and today the sun is actually shining.

But look at me! I seriously talk the most about the weather here.

And I’m letting myself go, man. All I want to do is sleep; I’ve never been so tired in my entire life. So I sleep until about 20 minutes before class, pull myself out of bed (which takes a surprising amount of self motivation, to be honest), and sleepwalk to class. Yoga pants, sports bra and t-shirt. No makeup. Most of the time I don’t even brush my hair (I have never worn a bun this many times in my life). I think about food way too often, and I have just now realized that I need to balance out my eating with gym time, or I’ll be the headlining float in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade next month.

I guess the question is: am I really letting myself go? Or am I embracing the inner me, makeup-less and carefree?
As much as I’d like the answer to be the latter, it isn’t. Or maybe it is. I guess I could twist it so that it is. Aghhh, I don’t know anything anymore. But I definitely like that I don’t feel like I have to impress anyone here. I just roll with it, since everyone has their own style here and they all hang out together.

So I suppose there is no answer. Maybe the lesson here isn’t anything about learning who I really am. Maybe it’s just my imagination telling me that there are lessons to be learned here. Maybe it’s just that I’m alive. I’m alive and breathing and the sun is shining and it’s those moments when, even though it’s cold and I want to go home to bed, I realize I’m still happy. Even though college isn’t the amazing experience I thought it would be quite yet, maybe the point is just surviving a little. Getting through each day, no matter how closely I scrape along the bottom. I’m alive and I’m taking care of myself by myself.
Maybe that’s the lesson.