So This is the New Year.

I went to Ireland this year.  So weird, it feels like years ago.
I started my year in Ireland, and am ending it in New York City.
I had one very bad semester, and one very good.
I had four internships this year and learned a lot with each, although only two of them I really liked.
I did not crash a car this year (that's cause enough to celebrate).
I made an abundance of new friends, and lost one.
I have grown up a lot, despite my wishes to not.
This year has been so full.  Full of love and joy but also pain and despair.
I keep thinking of this movie I saw one, called Elena, llena de gracia.
Llena de gracia.  The word 'llena' means full, but it seems more encompassing of the meaning than the English word.
Llena de gracia, full of grace.
My year has been llena de gracia.
I am thankful for the depth of emotion and learning that I have swam through this year.
My New Years resolution is to start letting things go.  Not completely, but enough to move forward and be happy.
I want to go back next semester and appreciate Gordon and my last semester there, rather than grieving my semester in LA.  I want to keep my eyes open and notice how full life is and the wonder in that.
I am excited for a New Year, and I feel like I can peacefully release 2013.
Happy New Year, friends!

Everything around me seems to be reminding me that I'm getting older.

Growing up.

Heather came home for Christmas for one day before she had to go back to the city for work.  It's so weird that she's an adult now.

And as I sit in her apartment in Harlem while she's at church I can't help but think about where I will be next.

Will I have my own cheap apartment in NYC?  Chicago?  LA?

I keep trying to imagine what life will be like come May, but I can't see anything.  

My brain can't comprehend the concept enough to develop a plan.

Where will I go?  What will I do?  What purpose should I be working to fulfill?

It both comforts me and worries me that Heather is still working on answering these questions, at 24 with a great job.

We shall see.

There is so much peace that comes with Christmas Eve night.  I'm surrounded by family and Christmas hymns and movies expressing joy and love.  So much happy.  I know that the morning brings exciting traditions like presents and hot chocolate, but I'm most excited about the hefty dose of family that I will be taking in.
I have the greatest family in the world.
Today we had our yearly Christmas Eve party, and then my whole family went to the Christmas Eve service at church--even Stephanie and her boyfriend came with us.  Then afterwards we got in our pjs and watched a Christmas movie and joked and laughed until deciding we couldn't stay up any longer.  So now, at 2:02 am, I am turning on 'Polar Express' and going to sleep.
I find myself consistently happy on each Christmas Eve night, and this year is no exception.
I still feel the magic of this night that I felt as a kid waiting for Santa.
I really love Christmas.
Have a wonderful Christmas, friends.

A girl that I graduated with died suddenly a few days ago.
I don't know what the cause of death was, but it was the second death from my graduating class in two weeks.
I've known this girl my whole life, but hadn't talked to her since we were friends in elementary school.  I can't stop thinking of her little sister...and what I would do if my sister was suddenly gone forever.
I spent all of this time thinking about why some people are chosen to survive and some are chosen to die...and it never makes sense.  I can't find a rhythm or formula to it.  It just happens.  It's maddening.
To slip away from this world so easily...I'll never understand.

Rest, Dani Cummings.  I hope you are at peace.

People keep asking me what it's like being home.
I don't know what to tell them.
It's not bad, really, but not good either.  It kind of just is what it is.
I was expecting it to be both bad and good, but it's really not either.
It has, however, only been four days.
I miss my friends, and I miss being productive and having endless things to do.
The perks of living in a big city.
And now I have mountains of crap all around my room from LA and Gordon and Jersey...
I think I'm sick of moving.  Packing and unpacking only to do it again in four months or less.
I miss the consistency of living in my parents' house.  One address, one zip code, one bedroom to myself.
My mom is turning my bedroom into a guest room this week.
I'm officially a guest in my parents' house.
So weird.
It's time to watch a Christmas movie and pretend I'm still young.
Goodnight, friends!

So I'm home.
Back in Jersey.
My first full day I spent the first part of the day cleaning Lucia's kitchen and the second in the eye doctor.
My new glasses are ballin.
Today I'm stopping around a bunch of different stores and such and dropping off resumes for seasonal help, then off to West Chester to visit Greg.
So home is good.
Sleeping, however, is not.
Two nights I have slept here, and both nights I have had trouble falling asleep and really awful nightmares.
Ugh.
So sleepy.

**so I just remembered my nightmare last night.  Lucia had just died suddenly and then all of a sudden two weeks later Homie died in an accident.  So I was pretty upset...then I ran into Jay-Z at one of those color-drum shows where everyone gets paint on their faces.  So Jay-Z was trying to cheer me up and then I left to go to a Needtobreathe concert where I ran into Jon Foreman from Switchfoot.  He just smiled at me though, no consoling or anything.  And then people from my church kept coming up and telling me things about my dad and not to worry because he was definitely in heaven.  Twas a heavy and awfully sad dream.

I'm excited to sleep at Greg's tonight...maybe I'll have a normal dream.

The Road to Jersey Day One.

Three hours worth of tears later, and here we are.  I left Los Angeles today.
Stephanie and my first stop was the grand canyon, which she was super super pumped about.  So seven hours later we're there, except it's snowing super hard and we can barely see the road.  We get to the park entrance and they tell us that there is 0% visibility and we can't get in.  So we drive the five minutes to our hotel.
So it's 4:30pm, we're bummed and we're at our hotel.  Luckily, our hotel is sweet.
It has a bowling alley, movie theatre (you have to go out into the snow to get to this one though), a crappy sports restaurant/bar, a beautiful fireside restuarant/bar, and a gym/hot tub.  So we're like hey, sweet.  Let's relax here for the day.
So we have dinner and drinks at the cheap sports bar, then a glass of wine by the fire at the beautiful bar, then off to the hot tub for ten minutes then back to the room (which is directly next to the beautiful bar) to shower.  We're about to watch Crazy Stupid Love.
Perfect.
Hopefully tomorrow we can get into the Grand Canyon before leaving for Texas.
Also, Texas will be a challenging drive as it's 13 hours and possibly snow-kissed.
But then we're in Nashville.
Then we'll be home.
Then I'll be officially back to real life.
Hmm.
Day 2 tomorrow.

Give Me Wings, Give Me Peace.

In the last three hours I have come across three deaths via Facebook.  I don't know any of them, but I read into each one and all of the posts from their friends and family.  And of course I think of my own experiences with death...and it's one of those moments when I don't understand why we live.
I'm not suicidal or depressed or anything that should worry anyone, I'm just sad.
My heart breaks for the people that woke up to find that their world was different, darker.
A scary place made scarier.
There's so much good and so much joy in my life right now, but I find myself wrapped up by death.
I find myself grieving for people I've never known.
I think I'm also grieving for my life that I'm about to leave behind next week.
It breaks my heart to know that I won't see most of my friends again, as they're scattered around the country.
I will never have the same job I had this semester, live in the same room, have the same walk to school or classes or opportunities.  I'm laying to rest a beautiful four months.  When I think about leaving I imagine myself clawing at the doorframe of my apartment as I'm dragged away.
I don't want to leave.
I love my family and am so so excited to go home, but I don't want to leave.
I don't want to move onto the next step of life because these steps are getting so short and there's so much change and I feel like my life is flashing by.
I don't want my life to whiz right by, and the idea that tomorrow I could get into a car accident and die haunts me.
I'm afraid that I haven't had enough time to reconcile my faith after Monica's death, and if that's true then what would happen if I died tomorrow?  Would I cease to exist, burn in hell, or be delivered to heaven?
I believe all of the things that a Christian is supposed to believe, but right now I'm not okay with it.  I'm not okay with people dying and freaking dogs dying and life passing by and feeling like I'm running in circles.

Where is the comfort in this?
What can anyone say or do to bring peace to this chaos?

Poor little Jakie died yesterday.  

We found out that he had cancer like two weeks ago.  We had been expecting that Joey didn't have much time left because he's been sick for a long time, but not Jake.  Jake never acted sick...we had no idea.

But he's gone now.  Poor little puppy.

I'm so excited to go home.
I'm sure after two weeks at home I'll be crying for my LA life, but right now I'm so pumped to go home.
Even now, I hate the idea of leaving, but I miss my friends and family and not having anything to do.
Also, this Christmas break is going to be extra special because I'm going to get to know my dad.
I recently read an article devoted to my aunt's successful career as an NYC litigator, and I learned a lot about her career journey and a few other random things that I never knew--like my great grandfather was an engineer that graduated from MIT. (if you're intrigued, here is the link Susan Millington Campbell--Super Lawyers)
And it got me thinking that I don't know much about my family.  I feel like I know a lot about Lucia and her childhood and life before me and such, but I know nearly nothing about my dad.
I have a few solid things that I know about him, like the fact that he loves the opera scene in Philadelphia (it even makes him cry) and...I literally don't know if I can come up with something else that isn't super generic like he loves Chevy Chase movies and making beer.  So anyways, I don't know much.
And I want to.
I hear stories of fathers giving advice and guiding their kids through life, and I want to extract some of that wisdom from him.  I only remember clearly a few times where my dad gave me advice: when Monica died and when I was considering transferring colleges my sophomore year.
When I came home this last May after Monica died, I hadn't talked to my parents about it at all.  I had sent a Facebook message to them so that they were aware, but told them I didn't want to talk about it or answer any questions.  So we didn't.
But when I came home my dad came into the laundry room when I was putting clothes in the washer and stood there waiting for me to acknowledge him.  I remember him saying 'So you had a difficult semester.  You just gotta keep going.  Stop crying and keep going.  That's life.'
I remember being super pissed like wow dad, how sensitive.  But he was right.  That's life.
And then back when I was a sophomore, I remember we were driving somewhere and talking about what I wanted to do with my life, what my plan was.  I was nervous about telling him that I wanted to make movies, because my sister was in the middle of starving in Nashville trying to be a singer.  I wanted to be the one with the clear, established future.  But alas, I am in love with movies.  So I nervously told him, and immediately followed it with 'but I'm not sure, we'll see.'
But I remember him making a face and saying "Nah, nahh, you want to do the movie stuff, right?  Then that's what you gotta do."
So that's where I am.
So anywho, I'm super excited about this break.  I've already called him and told him all about my plan.  I think he thinks it's kinda presh (in his words of course).
We've already made plans to visit this bar in Philadelphia that he used to go to a lot in college.  I love stuff like that.  I love places that have so many stories.  The lives of my parents are just gold mines for stories...I'm excited to hear them.  Maybe I can re-tell them in a movie someday.
So anyways, that's what I'm chewing on on this Wednesday evening in my apartment in LA.
Now I'm going to continue my script that is so so so so far from being finished (and due Sunday).
Goodnight, friends!

So I see the same 33 people pretty much every day.
We all have class together, share the same library, movies, classrooms, computers.
So, when one of us gets sick...we all get sick.
My professor came down with 'food poisoning' last Tuesday, and my roommate had the same this weekend.
Well, friends, tis not food poisoning.
Because now my other roommate and I are home sick with what must be the most violent stomach flu ever.
This is day two, which has been monumentally better than day one.
But still sucks.  I haven't eaten anything since Sunday and am just now being able to keep fluids down.
It's also unfortunate because this is my last week of my internship.  I'm hoping I can make it in tomorrow.
Bleh.

So today I'm at work and my mom calls in the middle of the afternoon.
Weird.
She knows that I'm at work till a certain time and that I can't answer my phone.
Yet, she calls.
So I text her and ask if everything's okay.
And I don't get a response.
And I'm thinking someone has died for sure.
Someone is in the hospital or dead or something.
So I'm nearly panicking when she texts me back.
Jake has cancer.
My first thought: Ahh (relief), just the dogs.
My second thought: Wait, Jake has cancer?
My mom texts me again, saying that the dogs went to the vet yesterday and found out Jake has like a month left to live, and Joey's been on the decline for a while.
And then I cried.  It's so dumb, but I cried.
So I'm at work, sitting in the bathroom, crying.
Because my dogs are dying.
Like, what?
It sounds so dumb to me.  Like, they're just dogs.
But even as I write this it's hard not to get emotional.
Because I feel like my family member just found out that he has a month to live.
And I'm suddenly realizing that my dogs, who I've had since I was in second grade, are going to die soon.
And I love my dogs.
We knew that Joey was going to die soon, he's been sick for a long time and he's like 14 years old.  But not Jake.  Jake has never stopped being spunky and annoying since we brought him home.  He's 12, but still acts like a puppy.
And it's so dumb but the death of my pets feels consistent with the death of a friend.
It sounds so bizarre to me, but that's how it feels.
I remember sitting on my steps in my first house in Jersey when I was eight years old and telling Joey that he was my best friend.  I think every kid does that.
I grew up with them.  It's weird to think about.
So that's where my head is.
My poor puppies.  I don't know if I'll ever see them again.

Every once and a while I turn up my air conditioning really high and get snuggled up with tea and wool socks and a big sweatshirt (mostly Seth's sweatshirt) and pretend I'm back at Gordon waiting for my friends to come over and watch a movie.
I really miss New England.
I love LA, love the weather, love all of it, but I can't help but get weirded out by the fact that it's November 10th and I'm still wearing flip flops and sun dresses.
I dreamt of snow the other night.  I woke up to 80 degree weather.
As much as I don't want to leave, I am excited to go back to the east, if only for a while.

I almost can't believe it, but it's time for a countdown.

Days Till:

Laura comes to LA: 3
Sarah comes to LA: 12
Thanksgiving: 18
All assignements are due: 11
Last Day of my Internship: 15
Final Banquet: 24
Stephanie comes: 25
Leave for NJ: 26
Go to MI: 40
Christmas Eve: 44
Go to NYC: 48

Time is going so quickly.

It's weird that we don't talk to people we don't know.
I know that 'stranger danger' has its validity to an extent, but it's weird to me that I treat nearly everyone I haven't met as a stranger with potential danger.
Maybe I've lived in too many cities.  Maybe I watch too much SVU.
I'm sitting in a cozy Starbucks down the street from my apartment complex, and I'm not talking to anyone.  I look around and it's pretty empty at 7:51pm aside from about seven twenty-somethings.  It's like we're all in the cozy living room drinking coffee and not talking to each other.
What if we treated cafes like we did parties?  Entering and introducing ourselves.  Sitting with people for a bit before continuing on with our work or whatever it is we set out to do here.
I've never really felt the urge to chat up patrons at a coffee shop, but right now I just feel so weird that I'm sitting so close to a group of people my age and we're ignoring each other.  They see me.  I see them.  This Starbucks looks like someone's living room.
So why aren't we talking?
It's weird, I guess.  It's unusual and probably annoying if I were to pull up a chair and introduce myself to these people.
It's just bothering me.  The whole social construct.
Why don't we talk to people we don't know?  Where did this rule come from?
I hate it.  Part of me doesn't want to enable such a stupid construct, but part of me doesn't want to be that awkward girl.  And I hate that I care about being awkward because it's just so dumb.  My friends were strangers before they were friends.
Argh.  Rants.

Today I am thankful for cold(ish) weather and good friends.  Even though we argue and complain, we end most days watching a movie or hanging out together.
Sleep is the enemy these days.
So much to do and so many friends to spend time with.  As we get closer to the end of the semester, the more I sacrifice sleep for friend-time.
I don't want to leave.

So much to say!
Things are in full swing around here.  We had our first two days of filming "We Meet Again" this past weekend and two more to come.  I'm producing it with Kyle, so we have our hands full.  It's going well.
At work we are in the middle of the American Film Market, so we are getting a ton of submissions for the company to look over and see if we want to buy.  So I'm doing a lot of coverage, which I LOVE.  Coverage just means that I watch one of the films or read a script and then write a logline, synopsis, and comments on what I think about that project.  Today I wrote two script coverage reports and two films.  Last week I made a comment about liking horror movies and ever since I have been given horror scripts and movies.  Which is great and I love it--but shoot some of these are terrifying.  Or disturbing.
But coverage is my favorite.
Nathan Johnson came to speak to my class yesterday!  He scored Brick, Looper, and Don Jon among other things.  And his cousin is Rian Johnson, which is the director of Brick and Looper.  He had a really great perspective and was really inspiring and encouraging about being an artist.  So now all I want to do is create things all of the time.
But then there is the other thing...I'm exhausted.  The most tired I have ever been in my entire life.  Right now I barely have the energy to type this out...and it's only 7:30.  I have a ton to do tonight.  But shoot.  No energy.  I think it's probably because we're in the middle of production and I have a thousand things to do every day, but even still, I'm wiped out.
So yes.
LA.
Everything is lovely and I've been going back and forth about staying here next semester to begin my career.  Why go back for a semester where I'll be miserable and losing connections?  I talked to Lucia about it today and she told me to do what I gotta do, but if I'm not going back next semester then I'm gonna have to stay here for Christmas because we can't afford to send me home and back.
99% sure I'm going back to Gordon next semester.
I'm excited to see my friends and to have some chill time.  But at the same time, going back is like taking a step backwards.  I feel like an adult out here because I'm working at a legit company and living in an apartment and producing a film...so how could I go back to being a student?  Feels backwards and I do not like backwards.
But I think that I need to go back to Gordon.
So I think I will.
So many decisions.  Who knows where I will be in seven months.  So scary.
SEVEN MONTHS till I graduate college.
Thank the Lord.
I'm over student-life.  I'm ready to have a job and be independent and ahhhh, I'm so excited.
So that's a chunk of my life as of now.
Also, I'm kind of a coffee drinker now, and I kind of hate myself for that.
It's a means of survival.
Also also EIGHT DAYS TILL HALLOWEEN.  Love Halloween.  I wish my sister and I could be together for it.
Lucia sent me a halloween package, as always.  They're the best.

She also walked around our front yard and down the street in Jersey to collect a bag of colorful autumn leaves.  She sent them to me.  I teared up.  My mom is the best and I really do miss the east coast & all of the things/people that go with it.
But I have some photos to edit and a script to work on, so I must depart.
Happy Wednesday, friends!

The bodies we loved, locked away into the earth.

Hidden from sight, stolen from the fingers that reach for them.

Preserved and condemned all at once.

All we wanted was to keep you.

With blistered hands we dug into the ground

Clawed through the dirt and stone to get to you

We bled and cried to retrieve you

But when we got to you, you were already gone.

The bodies we loved, empty beneath our feet

Shells reminding us of what once was and what will never again be

Preserved and condemned, all at once.

They sleep as we reach.

The Road Trip [Part One].

There are so many movies about epic, life-changing road trips.  I've always heard that that's the thing you do in college, like a rite of passage.  Be adventurous, try new things, drive across country.
I am not a road trip type of girl.
I'm not adventurous and I hate driving, so naturally I was making every effort to avoid driving from New Jersey to LA this summer.
But alas, Lucia had the final say, and she loves crap like that (adventures/driving/bonding).
And it was one of the greatest trips I've ever taken, and I need to tell you about it so that I can look back on this years from now and remember.

So we started out on August 10, bright and early.  I had had about five hours of sleep as I was out late with a bunch of friends the night before, saying goodbye and such.  So we got into the car and I slept for about three hours while Lucia drove, and when I woke up, we were still in Philadelphia.  Philadelphia is about 20 minutes from my house.  Traffic and getting lost and detours and such left Lucia frazzled in downtown Philly.
So I fixed the GPS to get us out and we were off.
I don't remember much from day one aside from the fact that it was awful.  Really long, really boring, and really familiar, as we had driven those roads toward Michigan tons of times. The highlight was trying to play the movie game with Lucia, who is a horrible cheater.  She would make up movie titles and then giggle to herself if I accepted them.  The longer we were driving, the loopier we got.  At one point Lucia threatened to pull over and find a skunk for me to play with if I didn't stop playing Taylor Swift in the car. So we were in the car for about 16 hours I think before we reached our first stop at a super ghetto hotel in Effingham, IL.

The next day we drove 10ish hours to Oklahoma City, where we stayed in one of the most comfortable hotel rooms I have ever experienced.  I think it was the Sheraton.  Anywho Lucia and I met Tom and Tom's boyfriend, Anthony, at a cute hipster restaurant for dinner.  It was presh.  It was so nice to see Tom and to meet Anthony.  Loved it.

The next day is when it started to get interesting.  We left OKC to drive to Arizona for our 900 mile day.  I remember stopping at this rest stop in Texas that overlook hills and farmland and pretty green everywhere.  It was a beautiful rest stop.  I also saw what I thought was a crunchy leaf that turned out to be a giant moth.  Literally the size of a small bird.  Terror.

Whilst in Texas, Lucia and I also went to this ghetto little restaurant in a rest stop and had 99 cent tacos.  They were pretty good.  Also, I should note that at this point Lucia had been talking incessantly about the grand canyon over the past three days, which was our destination for that day.  As Texas turned into New Mexico which turned into desert, Lucia started telling me about how the government houses secret projects on aliens in the desert.  She pointed out where those places might be as we drove.  So that was nice.  She was also very concerned about her candy crush account, as all of her friends were apparently dying without her to feed them.  I don't know.  I don't understand Candy Crush (however everyone in my office plays it).

The scenery was incredible.  I've never seen anything like it.  We stopped at one point at a scenic overlook where I almost stepped on a rattlesnake poking out from under a rock (I nearly threw up afterward).  There were also some native american ladies selling jewelry that they had made up there, so we bought some.  Also, the heat was unreal.  Thick, heavy heat.  So strange.  I got sunburn after spending only ten minutes outside.  It was awesome.  I cannot stress how beautiful the scenery was for that day of driving.  Unreal.

That's Part One.  I'm going to go get some lunch before continuing to part two.  Stay tuned.

I Wish That I Could Have This Moment For Life

I feel like time doesn't exist here.
Like I'm living in some parallel universe where it's always sunny and everyone just has fun and is happy and never grows older.
I see photos of changing leaves and hear about warm spiced pumpkin somethings, but they never reach here.  Not in the land of endless summer.
It's really weird.  It's weird to see photos of people I know wearing scarves and boots and doing fall things.  Why would I wear a scarf?  Summer hasn't left me yet.  And it never will.  Not here, at least.
It's almost a wonderful kind of sickness.
Always having fun, always tanning and smiling and going out and staying the same.  No rain or snow to remind you that there's another world out there, that time is passing.
It's my own little neverland.
It's going to be so hard to leave.  It's like an addiction, this place.
And when I go back to the east coast, I will be going back to snow and cold and familiar things.
And familiar things feel bad.
I feel like I need to be advancing, adventuring and moving forward to all new things.  Familiarity feels like a step backwards.
I also know that this place will never be the same once I leave.  All of my friends and I will be going our separate ways and if I were to return, it would feel empty.
So I'm in a weird place, in this neverland.
I want to stay forever, but I know that this magical land will never exist again come December.
But at the same time, I wouldn't want to stay here forever, because I want to move forward.
And I can only be in one place for so long before it's time to move on.
Bittersweet.

Wanna Cry?

Watch this: Danny & Annie
I love this.

I Remember You Like Yesterday, Yesterday

Six months ago today Monica passed away.
This song was sang at her memorial service, and reminds me always of her.

No guilt in life, no fear in death
This is the power of Christ in me
From life's first cry to final breath
Jesus commands my destiny.

Time slips away so quickly.
Six months.
Shoot.

I don't think I will be returning to Belfast this January.
I loved the trip last year and it was so amazing and insightful, and I think I will let it forever be that.
I don't want to return and try to re-do all of my great memories.
I will let them stay forever as they are, my souvenirs in my head.

Things I have found to be cathartic:
Holding babies
Pre-worn (stolen/borrowed) boy sweatshirts
Listening to someone read aloud
The intro to Beauty and the Beast
Lounging in leggings + wool socks
Puppies


Needless to say, I am having quite a relaxing night after a crazy busy (and super fun) day.
Now to write an essay on Roger Ebert...
Good night, friends.

I love this group of people.
I was just at Seth's apartment (which is practically my apartment at this point) and I went up to three of the boys separately and asked them to tell me a story.  Instead of giving me a funny look or being like 'uhhh...no', they each jumped into a story without hesitation.  And they were all hysterical.
Twas a good night.
Also, I opened a joint account at the bank with Kyle today for our movie funds, and the friendly banker ordered me a Disney themed debit card.  Should arrive next week.  Joy.
And now I must either complete an essay or outline the first act of my script.
Good thing I have eight hours till I have to start getting ready for work.
Time management is kicking my butt.
Goodnight!

Just spent the last hour hypnotizing my friends into thinking they are pinned to the ground.
So fun.
I used to do this at slumber parties when I was younger.  You put them on the floor and have them relax and talk them through a vivid situation.  And then you send them through a scenario and about ten minutes later you bring them out of it, and they physically cannot sit up.  Krista's face was so red from trying so hard to get up.
I was pretty proud of myself.  It only worked halfway for Kyle, he was able to get up after a few tries, and Seth didn't work at all.
But it was fun.
Party tricks.

The opening music/narration in Beauty and the Beast is possibly one of my favorite sounds in the entire world.  The opening of that movie as a whole is my favorite opening of all time.
That is all.

Living in the Land of Summer

So today was awesome.  I recently started working in the acquisitions department at my internship, which has been so much fun.  I've read a few scripts and watched parts of movies and given feedback/suggested buying or not buying the script/movie.  It's pretty fun.  And today I got to go right from lunch to a screening of a film that we recently bought.
Super vague, I know.  Long story short: my internship is awesome.
I would love to make a career out of the stuff I've been doing at my internship.  It's so exciting.
For once in my life I have a solid idea of what I'd like to do with my life!
So exciting.
And this Friday I am going to another free movie screening which is super exciting.
I love LA.
I'm aware that this isn't the real world because I'm still a privileged student with few responsibilities, but I don't care.  I'm enjoying it while it's here.
Oh, the land of summertime.
It's magical.
Who knew I would love heat so much?  Turns out it's the humidity that I really can't stand.
I actually enjoy walking around in the sunshine now.

Also, it's time to think about what I will be doing in January.
Will I return to Belfast?
There is a part of the movie that I saw today that takes place in Ireland, and it killed me.  I really almost cried seeing the scenes there.  It looked just like Belfast.
I miss it so much.
But at the same time, I don't know if it would be productive for me to go.
Beneficial for me or the community.  It's very information-heavy and not so much volunteer-heavy.
It's a fantastic trip and was so valuable to me, but if it's the exact same as last year, I'm not sure I would get so much out of it.
Maybe I would.
I don't know.
Also, Steven won't be there.  So that's sad.
Also also, Monica.
Will I be able to hold it together?  I feel like it would be really hard to be there without her, since that was where we had the strongest connection.  That's where we were the closest.
And as I write this and really think about the weight of what that would mean to go back there, I feel as though I have to.  That I really want to, need to.
Maybe going to Belfast would release me, release her.
I still feel like she's going to come back most days.  I've almost texted her a few times since being in LA.  Those are the absolute worst moments.
At the same time, I don't want to go to Belfast just for my own purposes.  I want to go to be helpful and to learn about the city and love them.  Because I love Belfast.
Now I really want to go.
But it's such a scary thought.
Steven won't be there.  Monica won't be there.
I really love Belfast.
I don't know what to do.

Fun fact: I listen to really depressing music when I write.
Essays, scripts, blog posts...it all comes from my deb playlist.  Helps me focus.  Mostly for scripts.  I write a lot of dramas and it helps me write dramatically when I'm feeling dramatic.
So I was just going through my deb playlist and deleting and adding songs in preparation for some script writing, and all of a sudden I'm in Ireland and I'm walking down the street in Belfast toward the ice cream store and it's damp and chilly and I'm a little homesick but mostly excited about being in Ireland.  Rachel and Monica are with me and they're so clear and real and then all of a sudden I'm back in my apartment in LA and I'm crying.
What the hell was that?
I haven't had such clear memories of Belfast since before Monica died.  And suddenly I was back.
And I miss it and now there's a lump in my throat and I don't know what just happened.
I really loved that trip.

It's 58 degrees in Wenham right now.
What.
Even weirder, it's 62 here in LA.
This is weird because the last few days have been SO FREAKING HOT.
Brutal.
And suddenly it's in the sixties and I'm wearing a sweatshirt and leggings in my apartment because I'm chilly.
I love it.

Oh man LA is sweet.  My internship is great and my classes are great and my friends are great and the weather is great.
It's a lot of great.
Time management, however, is not great.
I somehow have yet to grasp the fact that I am busy from 9-5 every day and cannot put off my homework till midnight.
And thus, I am sleepy.
I really like my internship because it's all shiny and new and movie-ful, but it takes up so much time.  My MWF basically doesn't exist because by the time I get back and eat it's like 7pm then the time evaporates and i'm falling asleep.
And I am not creative when sleepy.  Not in the least bit.  I'm only bad things when sleepy.  So on nights like tonight, when I should really be creating an entire world for my treatment due Thursday (I'm writing a script that takes place on a pre-futuristic earth which doesn't and has never existed, hence my need for creativity) I cannot because my brain can barely grasp the world that I'm breathing in.
I don't know what my characters look like.  I don't know what they wear or how they speak or what their houses and terrain look like.
So much thinking.
I don't know.
I literally might just go to bed right now because I'm so stinkin tired and let's be real, this treatment isn't being written tonight.
Bleh.

Goodnight, world, and enjoy this wonderfully frigid evening.

PS I had a dream last night about a certain boy and a certain brother of that boy coming to visit me in LA.  Twas interesting, I woke up thinking that I needed to text them and see what time they were coming over because I thought they were at some hotel in LA.  So weird.  Glad I didn't.

It's been so long since I've written.
So much to say.
Everything is different.
The past two weeks have been a dream.  Perfect.  Love every second.
But alas, it's now beginning to get more like college real life and less like happy dream world.
My internship is wonderful, but I haven't been sleeping well and I'm so so tired.
So hard to wake up.
And tis because of this that I will now go to bed.

I debated on whether or not I should tell anyone here about my past life.  My past year.  Monica.
I decided no during the road trip over.
After a really rough summer that seemed to be filled with the sadness of her death, I decided not to bring her with me to LA.
Because if I wanted to not be sad, I couldn't bring any part of her.  I'm realizing it's not Monica that I'm suppressing and warring against, but the ghost of her death.  I want to keep Monica within me always, but her ghost is still ever-present.  So, it's all or nothing.
So I didn't talk about her.  And honestly, I didn't really think about her.  It was like the ghost left, but at the same time, so did Monica.
So my one roommate, Krista, and I were having a loooooong chat a few days ago when everyone else was out and we were talking about boys and and faith and life and I told her a bit about where I've come from.
And a few opportunities arose where I could have mentioned Monica.  But I didn't because I didn't want to bring such a burden, such baggage to a new environment.
But finally I decided to tell Krista, just quickly state that she passed away and it's been rough.
And just like that, the ghost is back.
The nightmares, the fear of sleep, the spontaneous crying when I'm alone...
Sometimes I am so overwhelmed with how wrong this is that I want to scream.
And of course, it's the nights that I have a ton of things to do that I my head is clouded with grief.
Grief that has made a home in my head.

So I just moved into a new apartment in the center of Los Angeles.
I live on the sixth floor.
I have great big windows that open up to see a good chunk of Los Angeles and beyond, including the Hollywood sign.
Every time I pass by my window I have to take a step back and look out to the Hollywood sign.  All of the lights at night, the colors in the day...they're beautiful.  It's a fantastic view.  And every time I wonder about how I got here, to this moment, staring out into a beautiful city with the sun shining through my window and a breeze blowing in.
How did I get here.

I've made so many plans.
Over the last four/five years, I've made a ton of plans.  My major, my college, my career choice, my summer jobs, internships, where to live, where to study abroad...
Not one of those plans included moving to LA.
I was going to do the Wild Semester (remember that?) and go on to take photos and advertise for REI and other outdoor recreational companies.
And then when that tanked I was going to go to Spain and be a Spanish translator or work for a PR firm in Spain.
And then I wasn't going to study abroad, and instead work on my film and move to NYC after graduating to try to get into the business.
And then I was going to move to London and try to get into that film industry.
And then Monica died.  And I wasn't going to do anything.

LA was always there in the back of my mind as an option, but I never thought I'd actually do it.  I figured that film is too hard to get into.  Even if I love film, PR is easier and more practical.  But I applied anyways.
I officially handed in my application online hours before finding out that Monica had died.  I was rejected shortly after applying.
I was okay with not going.  I even convinced myself that I would be happy living with my friend Melissa on campus and having a good final fall semester at Gordon.  I was perfectly content with that.
And then a spot opened up at LAFSC.
And I went back and forth and ultimately decided that no, I didn't want to go.  With everything that had happened, I didn't want another crazy transition.  And I had living with Melissa to look forward to.
Then Melissa called and said she needed to live off campus for financial reasons.  She was going to stay at her apartment and I was without a roommate.
Or any plans.
But still, moving to LA for the film program would be too much for me, I told myself.  So I still decided no.
Four days after being offered a spot, I still hadn't responded.
I didn't want to go.  But I didn't want to give up the opportunity in case I changed my mind.
But I didn't want to go.
And then I talked to Steven.
And he told me I had to go.  And I don't know why that resonated with me, because I think he literally just looked at me and said 'you have to go', but I felt like he was right.
And so I accepted the opportunity.
And here I am.
And since being at college there has been so much that has just felt wrong and hard and painful.  Like nothing is going right.  But (this is going to sound cheesy, but tis real) every time I stop and look out to the skyline and all of the lights, I think of how miraculous it was that God brought me here.  That He brought me out of one of the hardest times in my life and rescued me from myself and turned it into something good for me.  How I almost threw this away because I didn't want to move on with life, but He brought me here anyways.  Being in LA is a reminder that I'm being heard and understood and cared for, and I'm reminded every time I look out my window.

Finally, a moment.
A moment to breathe, to sit in bed, to blog.
I'm watching the Godfather, which is a movie I was supposed to watch prior to arriving at the LAFSC program, but never got around to.  It just happened to be on TV in my hotel room.
Also, Lucia and I have different rooms in our hotel room.  I have a door and everything.  It's a really wonky set up, both rooms have a queen sized bed and very little space for anything else.  But it's awesome.  We also each have a flat screen TV mounted on the wall in front of our beds.  So that's nice.
I have had little contact with anyone but Lucia for about seven days now.  A door between our rooms is quite nice.
However, for seven days traveling across country with your mother, we've done incredibly well.
Not one fight.
We actually had a great trip.  It was beautiful.  I feel like everyone needs to see a good part of the country at some point in their life.
I now think how could I live in NYC after seeing all of this beauty?  How could I move to a place that is so familiar without seeing what's out there?

That being said, I've been in LA for a day and a half now.
It's practically a different country.
The driving is weird and very different from what I'm used to.  The population is a thousand times more diverse than I am used to.  The city is unlike any city I've ever been in.
It's all very different.  Not bad.  I think I might actually like it a lot once it becomes less foreign, but it's still overwhelming.
Very overwhelming.  I was walking down the street today and looked up and saw the Hollywood sign in front of my face.
Like, what?
I'm in Los Angeles.  That's weird.
Also I am having such a hard time trying to figure out how to drive here.
Everyone drives like NYC taxis.
It's crazy.
And there's so many things everywhere and I have no idea where to park my car and I don't recognize the names on any of the stores.
I just want a target and a whole foods and a big ol' parking lot.
But the parts that I've seen are wonderful.
I LOVE Venice beach.  I love it.  It's beautiful and there's so many shops and restaurants and I love everything about it.  And the weather has been beautiful.
So, so far I love LA.
But I feel like I need a week by myself to get to know the area and get used to the craziness.
But alas, I move in tomorrow.
And I think I start classes Monday.
Yikes.
Everything is going so fast.
And I miss my friends.

So much to report!
I'm currently watching "Hocus Pocus" on ABC family at seven am (in August) while I wait for Lucia to be ready to leave.
We are departing for Los Angeles today. First stop: Indianapolis.
also I'm blogging on my new smart phone so that's fun too.
get ready for the next three days of nothing to do but blogging.
stay tuned.

So this just broke my heart.
http://amotherthing.com/2013/07/getting-political/

I hope that I have sons.  I will teach them that they are just as welcome to do ballet as they are to little league.  They will wear whatever color they want, play dress up in whatever costumes they please.  They will be taught that love is from God and transcends gender, race, and stereotypes.
I was never challenged with an issue of gender roles.  I think that being a heterosexual girl, it doesn't come up much.  I'm in college, working towards a degree so I can be independent and support myself, as I've been encouraged to do.  I did sports and ballet as a child.  I was never told that I couldn't wear overalls or had to have my hair done up beautifully before leaving the house.
I can't imagine what it would have been like to be a boy.
There is such a stigma against boys playing dress up and doing dance and liking pink because people automatically think they are gay.  They're children.  And even if they are gay, they're still children.  People.  Men.
I think of Tom, one of my old friends who is one of the greatest depictions of a man that I will ever know, who is dating a man.  Why would that ever take away from who he is?
I know there's more to it.  I know that the bible says that sodomy is a sin, but I also know that there are hundreds of ways to translate the bible into english, and many interpretations.  I just don't believe that love so strong and pure, like that of many gay couples that I know, could be wrong.
I really hope that I have sons, because straight or gay, they will be taught to love whatever and whomever they desire.

Okay so cute.
I have been babysitting since 8:30 this morning (it is now 4:30) and I told the boys this morning that this would be the last time that I see them until after Christmas, as I am moving to California for a few months.
They didn't react.  They're boys.  And as much fun as I am, I'm just the babysitter.
But then a few minutes ago as we were watching the movie, the youngest came over and traced a circle around the chair I'm sitting in.  When he finished he just looked at me, nodded, and sat back down.  I asked him what he was doing and he told me he was made a force field so that I had to stay there and not move to California.
And then he proceeded to explain the features of the house's guest room that I could stay in.
So cute.
But alas, children, I must leave.
This was a good day to end it.
This morning we went candlepin bowling and played at the arcade, this afternoon we watched a movie and napped, and then went to the pool and swam.  And now we just ate dinner and are watching another movie.
I am wiped out.
But these kids are still going.
So tired.
1.5 more hours until I am babysitting-free for a whopping five months.
I don't even know what that looks like.
Anymore, I shall now return to the children.
Happy Tuesday!

Why do the voices of actors in old films sound so different than voices in today's films?
Old actors and actresses sound so distinguished and crisp and important.
Now they just sound like everyday people.
Is our diction and speech just way worse now, or was it the technology?
I don't think I could speak like these people if I tried.
I wish people still sounded like this.
I'm watching Sunset Blvd., from 1950.
I love it.
I love their voices and I love the script and the narration and I love Gloria Swanson's character.
It's great.
Anywho it's Sunday and I am sleeeepy so I'm going to take a nap.
Gooooooooodnight!

I love Stephanie.
Love her.
I can see us being 80 and still as crazy together as we are now.
She's at a Miranda Lambert concert right now, and Miranda Lambert sings "Over You", which is a song that I have listened to about a hundred thousand times in the last four months.
I told Steph that I love that song (and of course she knows why) and she just texted me saying 'I'll think of her for you when it comes on, love you".
A cliché and perhaps cheesy line, but it actually meant a lot to me.
She's the best.

We need a countdown.

Days left of:

Working in Boston- 2
Working at Gordon- 7
Living in my apartment- 15

Days until:

I go to New Jersey- 17
My friends come to Jersey for my birthday!- 18
I turn 21- 19
I leave for LA- 24
I see Tom- 25
I get to LA- 28
My semester abroad begins- 30

The summer is winding down, friends.  Time to get cracking on reservations for my birthday and internship applications.
Crazy.

My Heart's In Constant Chaos, And It Keeps Me So Deceived.

When Monica died, I postponed my faith.  I was hearing all of these songs about eternity and Jesus rising from the dead and being beautiful and how amazing God is and I was so angry.  I was angry that Jesus defeated death and Monica succumbed.  It wasn't fair.
I remember being so unsure of everything.  What was life?  What's the point?  Who is this God that I thought I knew?  That I thought loved me and wanted the best for me?
The only thing I was sure was that Monica did not deserve to die, let alone in a car accident because of some girl that was jacked up on alcohol and heroin.
I remember being so confused about being a Christian and about Monica's beliefs that she was so confident of, so secure in.  Why was this happening?  I needed her.
I remember the anger, and the confusion and the chaos, but I also remember listening to worship songs like my life depended on it.
And maybe it did.  In my life, there have been numerous occasions where my heart has been in chaos, especially in the last year.  I wasn't in a great place before Monica died, and when she did I was done.  In all of my life, in all of these times of chaos and awful times, I have only ever been able to find peace in reading the bible or listening to worship music.  It's not me trying to be a good Christian or me trying to earn points or fit in with my Christian friends.  It's not a show or a gimmick or a way to attract people to Christianity.
It's survival.  It's comfort and peace and everything I've ever wanted and needed.  It's the only thing that has ever really calmed the chaos in me.
I'm still having a hard time to coming to terms with my feelings toward God and His role in Monica's death, but I have never been able to abandon my faith, even when I'm angry and want nothing to do with God.  At the end of the day when I'm mourning and run down and desperate for air, it's the only thing I have.  And that, my friends, is the only thing I am really certain of anymore.

I usually try to stay away from "Christian" jargon because I want to convey my sincerity in what I say rather than sound scripted, but there really is no other way to say it.  I am so so blessed with the friends in my life.
This year has been awful.  Torn down and ripped apart, and they have been there to cry with me and listen to me cry and say the same things over and over.
Through all of this hell, they have really been the best friends that I could possible want/need.
And I count this as a blessing.

Tonight, We Are Young.

Do we talk anymore?
Maybe that's the wrong way of putting it.  I know we talk.  I talk all day long.  But do we actually say anything?
This sounds so pretentious and existential and hipster, but that's not my intention.  I just miss the days that I would stay up into the night talking with good friends about life and dreams and love and sex and God for hours and hours just because we could.
And now when I spend time with friends, we talk about our days and our plans and work and surface things.  We don't talk about what it would be like to be a fly on the wall or why we're afraid of relationships.  Are we too busy?  Or have we passed the age that people do this?
I just had a great night.
Kesh and Robby (her boyfriend) came to visit last night.  Tonight we went to a huge block party in the downtown area by my apartment, and then came back to my apartment.  It was nice to hang out in our (almost) complete group with Laura, Teebs, Kesh, Robby, and I.  And then Laura and Teebs left and Robby and Kesh and I had really great conversations for about two hours.  We laughed and talked and wondered and it was just a great night.  I miss great conversations.
And now I'm in an excellent mood.
Like, I could listen to John Foreman's Fall album and not be sad (it's a horribly depressing album).
I'm listening to spoken word artists and thinking deep thoughts and wondering why people hurt other people.
I watched The Perks of Being a Wallflower today.  It killed me.  I didn't have very high expectations but it was really great.  The story kills me.  So good.
Life is just crazy.
This probably all sounds so odd.  Like I'm stoned or something.
I'm not, for the record.  But when was the last time that I sat and thought about how complex and wonderous and beautiful the world is?
How crazy it is that the sun is lighting another part of the world while we're in nighttime.  Other lives, with jobs and dreams and loves and thoughts.  It's crazy.  The world is so big.  And miraculous and crazy.
And my internship doesn't matter.
My car doesn't matter.
My clothes don't matter.
Moments like this matter.
Seeing the wonder and being inspired is what matters.
These are the moments that I feel like God is everywhere, flowing through everything.
The best of nights.

Listen to some Andrea Gibson; so good.

this is my favorite part:

this is for the grandmother who walked a thousand miles on broken glass
to find that single patch of grass to plant a family tree
where the fruit would grow to laugh
for the ones who know the math of war
has always been subtraction
so they live like an action of addition
for you when you give like every star is wishing on you
and for the people still wishing on stars
this is for you too

this is for the times you went through hell so someone else wouldn’t have to
for the time you taught a 14 year old girl she was powerful
this is for the time you taught a 14 year old boy he was beautiful
for the radical anarchist asking a republican to dance
cause what’s the chance of everyone moving from right to left
if the only moves they see are NBC and CBS
this is for the no becoming yes
for scars becoming breath
for saying i love you to people who will never say it to us
for scraping away the rust and remembering how to shine
for the dime you gave away when you didn’t have a penny
for the many beautiful things we do
for every song we’ve ever sung
for refusing to believe in miracles
because miracles are the impossible coming true
and everything is possible

Just Keep Me Where The Light Is.

I've been staring at this empty post for about fifteen minutes.
What do I say?
There's so much in my brain right now, I thought it'd help to type it out.
But I don't know what to say.
Nothing is wrong.
Pretty much everything is going right, actually.
But lately I feel so...bad.
My jobs are good.
My friends are good.
My family is good.
My finances are good enough.
Am I good?

There's a solid chance that I'm just overly tired, but it's just a feeling I've been having for the last few weeks...everything on the outside looks so good and I want to be happy because it looks so happy but everything inside feels so bad.
Why?

I hate growing up.

Intern Season is Upon Us Yet Again

Tis the season to begin the internship search for this fall.  I feel like I was just in the midst of this for the summer season (oh wait, I was).
But I am back, yet again, to the routine of searching, contacting, and applying.  Polishing my resumé and re-writing cover letters that seemed so brilliant at the time and now seem stupid.
Awesome.
Tis also the season to clean up my twitter account.
No no, not for language or inappropriate content, but for movie reviews.
I trash movies from time to time.
Movies whose production companies I am now applying to.
And so, goodbye film analyses.
Maybe I'll make an anonymous account and trash all of the movies I want.
Or maybe I'll just stick to the usual witty (or at least I'd like to think so) tweets.

As time consuming and tiring it is, I kind of love applying for internships.
It's like a scavenger hunt.
I dig and dig through websites and linkedin and Facebook accounts until I find a phone number or email address of a prestigious company.
And then I call.
And call.
And call.
And then I promote myself and wait a week.
And call again.
It's great.

I'm also really competitive.  I'm interning in Hollywood, after all, along with a hundred other talented film students.  I need to give myself an edge.
Also, my films aren't that good.
My last one wasn't bad, but none of them are excellent.
I'm a writer, and a communicator.
I am not a cinematographer.
And thus, the films that I have personally filmed (all but one), are not the greatest quality.
And the people that I am up against have excellent films.
So I need to excel in what I do best - people and writing.  Which, luckily, translates into interning and the process by which I get an internship.  Communicate and write and repeat.

I know I can be good at this.
I love film.
It's the only thing I really really love doing.
I will get a good internship, which is why I am determined to work as hard as possible to create the best application that I can.

So that's my mood right now.
Some Sasha Fierce motivation going on right now.

The Fourth of July (And the fifth and the sixth)

4th of July weekend has turned out to be pretty fantastic.

And it's only Saturday evening!

On the fourth I walked from a friend's house with my roommate to this big beach celebration.  It was sweet.  There was live music and people everywhere and the weather was beautiful.

And the fireworks.

I am such a girl.  Fireworks get to me.  They're so cool and beautiful and romantic and I love them.

So that was great.

And then we came back and celebrated some more with Eli at the apartment.

I worked yesterday and then went to dinner at the adventure camp house, and then after about three showers and nearly passing out in my stuffy hot apartment, Melissa and I went out last night, which was a lot of fun.

And then today we (Melissa&I) were pretty miserable waking up because we didn't sleep well because of the heat and our fans just aren't doing the trick.

So we decided to spend the last of our money on movie tickets in a nice, comfy, air-conditioned theatre.

Twas the best investment.

We went to the mall really early (about 3 hours before the movie) just to walk around in the air conditioning, and then Melissa had the best idea: puppies.

So we picked out the cutest puppy at the puppy store and played with him for twenty minutes.  He was a cross between a french bulldog and a beagle.  So cute.

I still have scratches on my hand from his teeth.

So so stinking cute.  And I talked to the pet store guy who told me that all of the puppies from this chain store (Pet Express) are given homes (even if it means that the employees buy them - everyone at this store had at least three) and never put in shelters no matter how old they get.

So that's nice, and I shall buy a clearance puppy when I am older and have a stableish life.

Anywho then we saw Man of Steel.  Which was pretty good.

I probably won't see it again, but it was goodish.

Literally I would have paid ten dollars just to look at the main character for two hours.

I would have paid just for the air conditioning, really.

Anywho Henry Cavill is very attractive, so that was nice.  Insane muscles.

Anywho.

I'm now watching Arrested Development (I'm obsessed) and doing laundry/pinterest.

So that's nice.

Too bad it's still really freaking hot in here.

And there are ants everywhere.  

Not the defenseless little ants that eat up left over food or congregate when it rains.

The big ones.

The ones that bite.

They are everywhere.

So sleeping is problematic as I have felt them crawl across my leg or arm on several occassions each night.

And it's so hot.

But one month today I will be going to Atlantic City to celebrate my birthday with my closest friends.

SO EXCITED.

Anywho, I shall prepare dinner now and shower (for the twelfth time).

Happy Weekend!

Into The Deep

I spent a good majority of yesterday crying and freaking out about Monica, and I didn't even realize...
It's been three months.
Still not getting easier, but I know that she is home.
Of this I am certain.

Last night I fell asleep on the couch at the house that Sarah was housesitting at around midnight.  Three hours later I woke up and helped Sarah clean and finish packing.  Around four I sat down and watched "While You Were Sleeping" on their tv while Sarah got ready for her day.  At 5:45 we left for the train station, and after almost hitting a guy on a bike with my car (he was very angry, and I was very sorry) I dropped Sarah off at the station (she's going to MD for vacation) and returned back to my apartment for sleep.  An hour later, I'm up again and going to work.
Today my task was to convert video files to start editing aerial video footage for Gordon's website.  However I had to convert each individual file separately and each file was taking about 8-15 minutes to convert.  So I watched a lot of arrested development.
I finished converting all of the files around 4:15pm.
I try to upload said files into Final Cut Pro.
Surprise!
They're all 'corrupted'.
None of them worked.
Twas a tiring and fruitless day.
However my bosses/coworkers were very sympathetic and are working to figure out why all of a sudden Final Cut hates me so that we can re-try for next week.
I'm exhausted.
After work I walked out with a guy I work with and we were talking about thunderstorms or something (I barely heard what he was saying, I was so out of it) and I'm like okay have a good weekend and I walk over to my car and jam my key into the lock.
Except oh wait, it's not my car.
And my key doesn't fit.
And I try again.
Still not my car.
And then I realized that since it was not my car, I should move on to find the car that belongs to me.
And I'm wondering how many people saw me try to violently shove my key into some random car and then walk away and get into the proper one...
This has been a crazy day.
And it's not over.
I'm babysitting tonight and then at THREE AM I'm taking my roommate to the airport as she is departing for London for vacation.
LONDON.
Ugh.
Anywho, I should get myself together before I go care for the children.
I'm going to end up sleeping till three in the afternoon tomorrow.
Happy weekend, friends.

A Constant Reminder Of Where I Can Find Her, A Light That Might Give Up The Way.

I'm having a moment.

Or rather, an hour.

Or perhaps a day.

I'm having a day.

An awful day that was full of good and mediocre things.

Good things happened today.

My work day went really quickly and was pretty fun, I had lunch with a co-worker that I enjoy, I'm having an okay hair day, and I'm going on a date later with a nice guy.

But all day I've been holding Monica inside me, trying not to let anyone see what was happening.

In Northern Ireland a little boy was awarded an award in honor of Monica's memory.

And even as I write this, I can't breathe.

I choke and shake and I hate every second of this.  Every minute that I know that her body is in the ground...

Unreal.  Unjust.  Wrong.

Most of the time, pretty much all of the time lately I don't think of her as anything other than a memory, some kind of thing or entity that I once had.

I don't think of her as a person or as a friend that I lost.

Lost.

I can't believe we lost her.

And there are times when I can't pretend that she was just a memory and that her death wasn't real.

And it kills me.

And I miss her and it doesn't get easier and I'm so...

I don't even know what I am.

I feel like a shell when I think of her.  Nothing can fill me up because she's gone and I can just pretend she's not real.

And I hate that.  I hate that I do that.  I know this sounds awful and I know she deserves to be remembered for the full life she had and the incredible, whole person that she was.

But when I think about the airport or her souvenirs or the couch we shared every afternoon while we did devos...

I can't go to work or talk to people or get dressed when Monica's death is real.

I have to put her away to survive.

And all the while I'm freaking out because I know that I'm losing her this way.

I'm not remembering her as she was because I'm making her into a symbol of sadness, but I physically cannot stand to think of her and remember her as my friend.

I can't believe we lost her.

Where is the solution in this?  Where is the peace?

You know what's weird?

Boys never say goodnight.

Not first, anyways.

Whenever I'm talking to someone of the male species and they go to bed or something they just don't answer back.  Or they'll be like going to bed and that's it.

In any relationship - I mean with close guy friends, male acquaintances, boyfriend - all of 'em.  At the end of a conversation they're never like okay I'm gonna go, goodnight!

Which is what I say at the end of pretty much every evening conversation.

Because I'm a girl?  

No, I think it's just me.

When I was younger (and maybe still sometimes now...) before I would go to bed I would get SO upset if my mom didn't say goodnight back to me.  I still get kind of annoyed when people don't say it back.

I need that confirmation...that the other person is recognizing that I am leaving and is affirming it by sending me off with a goodnight.

That's weird.

That also might be a little bit...what's the word...self absorbed?

Whatever.

I realize the world doesn't revolve around me...

But you should still say goodnight.

I really really like going to church.
It's like going to the spa for my insides.  That sounds weird.  But it's the least mushy way I could think of to say that it makes me feel 'restored'.  I'm not a fan of cheesy jargon, but it seems to be the only fitting word.
And for church, sunshine, and the blessings that have been today and this week, I am thankful.
Also.
It's 9:06pm and where am I?
In my bed.  Looking for a bedtime movie.  About to turn off the light.
And I am thrilled that this is the case.
I have been looking forward to sleeping allllll day!
I love bedtime.
I'm still not capable of sleeping without a movie, but hey, why does that have to be a bad thing?
And with that, I shall depart into dreamland.
Goodnight, dear friends.

I hope I leave something behind
An open door, a broken light
Cause all I've seen is sacrifice
A sun-burnt fear through open eyes

You're gonna leave all of this behind
Into the deep with a fist of light
You're gonna be all right

I hope I leave something behind
An open door, a broken light

You're gonna leave all of this behind
Into the deep with a fist of light
You're gonna be all right


I see Monica everywhere.  On the subway, in the grocery store, in a passing car.  Most days now I don't feel so awful when that happens.  It makes me sad, but then I continue with what I'm doing.  Most days now I don't spend a lot of time thinking about her.
But it's only been two months.
She was here, perfectly fine, two months ago.  Two months of grieving for nearly nineteen years of life.  It feels so wrong.
I still think about her all of the time, but I rarely feel the loss.  I don't know if that makes sense.  I don't think about what it felt like when I found out she was dead, a moment that I will never forget.  I don't think about that week of memorial services, not sleeping, her wake, my Ireland team...
I don't think about that.  Not really.  Not what I felt.  Because it's debilitating, and I don't have enough energy to go through that again.
And because of this, I sometimes feel like I'm losing her.
Like the memory of the last time I saw her is getting fuzzier.
Was her hair up or down?  Was she wearing her lane hat or carrying it?  Did she tell me she loved me or was that the time before?
So sometimes, on nights like this when I can't sleep, I think about the night I found out.  I think about Easter and about coming back and not going to classes and the nightmares and all of the horrible things that represented the horrible thing that her death was.  And I remember that she was real.
I still can't think about Ireland without feeling sick though.
As much as I want to go back, I don't think that I ever could.

I start my new job tomorrow.  Round two of the new jobs.  This one is on campus, working with Neal, who was our faculty advisor on the N. Ireland trip.  I think that's where this all started.  I can't look at him without feeling heavy and remembering things.

Her bracelets were stolen.  When we were robbed in Northern Ireland, her bracelets that she had worn almost every day were stolen and I think her ipod was too, but I don't remember.  I remember her iPhone was still there and we were wondering why.  I remember her being sad for about a minute and a half because her bracelets were a gift and they meant a lot to her, and then she just perked up again like she always did and said that it was just stuff, and she didn't need it.  Can't take it with you, she'd say.
On the first day that we went into the city to shop, before anyone had gotten really close, Monica asked if I'd come with her to get coffee before shopping.  I didn't really want to break off from the group because I wanted to get to know everyone, but I agreed.  So we went, and we spent the whole day together, and twas then that we bonded.

I'm so so glad that she lived.

I'm obsessed with yogurt-covered raisins.  Obsessed.
They're delicious.
Also I'm going to become obsessed with Wednesday nights.
I CAN SLEEP IN UNTIL EIGHT THIRTY TOMORROW!!!!
I usually wake up at six, although I need to start waking up earlier because I'm barely making my train as it is.
The routine seems to be get ready, make lunch, take the train to work, work, come back, make dinner, watch a movie or go to the gym, then go to bed.  No time for anything in between.
But on Wednesday nights, I can sleep in.  I can watch a movie and then do nothing.  I might walk to the beach.  Except it's freezing so I won't.
I'm most likely going to do nothing.
Also this company that I work for is so legit.  It's clients and the work it does...it's impressive.
I think that I'm probably not supposed to talk about any of it.
Just know that it's cool.
Enjoy your Wednesday night, friends, I know I will :)

Today I ended what was a very long and stressful day with a really good workout at the gym and an impromptu swim in a pond with some friends.

These are the best days.

I am terrified.  My first day as an intern at a professional PR firm is tomorrow morning.
Terrified.
I'm reading Disney quotes to make myself feel better.
It's working.
Pray for me!

Guess what guess what guess what!
Grades have been posted for this last semester.
I got straight A's.
I haven't gotten straight A's since high school.
Yessssssssssssssssss.

You know what I'm not excited about?
Squeezing a graduation cap onto my abnormally large head...and then taking a hundred pictures of me like that.
Not cute.
Not excited.
But the graduating part will be fun, I'm sure.

Anywho, I would also like to note that THE WEATHER IN NEW JERSEY IS NONSENSE.
Complete nonsense.
And I know that we're getting random cold fronts because of the tornados in the midwest, but it's still crazy.
I was so hot last night when I was trying to sleep.  Three fans and two open windows with no blankets and a minimal clothing=still hot.
Tonight, after wearing jeans and a long sleeved shirt all day I'm bundled up in sweats, a long sleeved shirt, blankets, shut windows, and my nice cozy hospital socks.
It's crazy, but I kind of love it (shhh).
I also had a 3.5 hour hair appointment today.
Oh, that poor girl that had to try to fix the colorful array that is mi pelo.
But she succeeded, and even she said she was surprised she had done it.
So I now have highlights.
Many, many highlights.
I'm kind of blonde.
I like it.
This is kind of what it looks like (it's dark in my room and it's taken via photobooth, so the colors aren't exactly spot-on).

Not super accurate, but it's what we've got.
Anywho, I'm going to a morning showing of Star Trek 3D with my parents and Heather in eight hours, so I will be going to sleep.
Goodnight, friends.

Our Hearts Are Heavy And Light.

Today is Stephanie's birthday!

She's 21 (oh boy) and I'm so so so thankful for her.  She's like a sister, and I love her.

In typical Jersey fashion, she's spending her birthday in Atlantic City with Gabe (her boy), and because I am still a baby 20 year old...I could not go.

However we will be celebrating Thursday when she returns!

Today is also Monica's birthday.  She would have been nineteen years old.  Her mom invited me and like forty other people to a ceremony at her grave and an open house at her home tomorrow, but I cannot go as I am so far away.  

I'm a total freak about birthdays.  I love them.  I think they're big deals and should be celebrated and made to be big deals.  You were born!  That's exciting!  So you should be celebrated.

So it's very strange to think of Monica's birthday.  Monica's death is so bad, and the fact that she can't celebrate her birthday feels so wrong, but she was born, she was alive at one time and that should be celebrated.  But it just seems sad.  Everything she's attached to just seems sad.

This day feels sad, but it's also happy.

Our Hearts Are Heavy And Light

We Laugh And Scream And Sing

Our Hearts Are Heavy And Light.

Something's Gotta Give is a weird movie.
We'll leave it at that.
Anywho, after a whirlwind of a weekend, I am home in New Jersey.
And oh, it has never felt more like home.
It's just so comfy.
I don't have to do homework or move out or live in a small space with six girls.
I'm in my room, by myself, with nothing to do.
And I have a new bed.  And it's incredible.  And my room is so clean and neatly packed...
It's great.
And my family.
When I got home my dad was already at my car before I took the key out of the ignition, and the first thing he did was told me he loves me and hugged me.
My dad has suddenly become a mushy teddy bear.
But it was really precious and then Lucia came out and hugs and such and then we ate chinese food and loaded all of my crap into my room.
And it is so so so nice having a room to myself.
Do not hear what I am not saying, as I love having a roommate 99% of the time.
But it is so nice to just be by myself for a little bit.
And this bed is just so freaking comfortable.

Never has this bed felt so comfortable.
And what a fantastic start to summer break.
My family is the greatest, this bed is the greatest, and I am so so tired.
More later.
Happy summertime, friends.

So it's the end of the semester.  The end of a long and tiring semester for everyone.
An apartment of six girls was and is an awful idea.  Half of us are confrontational, the other half not, and all of us have a temper.  And we're different and we're in a small space and there's just too many of us.  It's bringing out the worst in me.
I finally have my summer plans sorted and they're arguably more terrifying than not know what I was going to do.
I am so so so blessed to have two fantastic internships lined up for the summer.  I will be at Gordon two days a week working with the VP of communications and design department, and then will be interning at Elevate Communications in Boston three days a week in the creative content department.  So I'm set.
Things that scare me:
-Commuting to Boston
-Working for a professional PR firm
-Not knowing what I'm doing
-Not doing an excellent job

The last two are kind of silly fears.  I mean, I'll be new so obviously I won't know how everything works when I show up, but I'm a quick learner and I work hard, so it should be fine...right?
The first two are totally legit.  I am being thrusted into adult life.  I'm going to be paying rent and commuting to work in the city.  I'm going to be working from 9-5 at an office.  Then I'm moving to LA.
WHAT IS HAPPENING IN MY LIFE.
Oh, adulthood, I never wanted you.
...but I'm thankful you're coming in the best of ways.  These are really amazing opportunities for my career and I really think that I'm going to love them.
I got a card today in my mailbox from Monica's mom with photos of Monica and a note inside.
What is there left to say?  It never gets easier.
I am so thankful for her.