Man. It’s 1:30 in the morning and here I am blahgging.
After a semester of going crazy and going places and going far, I have to look back and evaluate.
But I can’t. I know I want more of that. More making films. More clicking with crews. More winning. More bike rides with besties. More laughing. More jumping high-fives. More documentaries. More learning. More running. More. More!
That’s as far as my evaluating goes.
What does a full load of school + a full load of work + relationships + functioning as a human being equal? Well, at the end of it all, it looks like rewatching a lot of Girls…
and Orange is the New Black…
I’m so brain-dead. So comically mindless. What does it look like?
I can hardly picture next week, but then I see this profile on Folk Fibers, and for twenty minutes, I’m obsessed with getting married and only registering for one damn thing. A Folk Fibers quilt.
It looks like, weirdly, wanting to bake something… real bad. But when it’s game time and it’s a friend’s birthday, you buy boxed brownies and fly on the fact that the wish-a-saurus is gonna seal the deal.
What does it look like?
It looks old. I was looking back at some silly Photobooth selfies [selvies?] of Ev and myself and found this of me…
smile-lines? freckles galore? scars? How old am I?
I feel like this woman [wo-man] is a hot 40-year-old. But, hell, she’s just about to turn 29! Do I need more experiences? Or should I slow down? Either way, I’m ten years behind. Don’t I look like this little girl‘s mom?
[p.s. I have had a hair cut since then that I almost regret… that day my hair was close to my favorite ever.]
Speaking of getting older… birthdays. Someday I will have a birthday party that only consists of Lip Synch competitions.
The ones that happen on Jimmy Fallon. And I will be as amazing as Emma Stone…
What does it look like? Playing the moment at 6:07 of that video over and over and over, cuz it makes me so damn happy.
This is my life. After all the working and traveling, my mindless video watching puts a smile on my 40-year-old face whilst I day-dream about quilts.
I don’t know if I would change anything… because I don’t know how I would. I know I should get to sleep earlier, but after school, work, baking the box cake, and beating everyone in scrabble… where is the time to faux-reflect? Only in the wee hours. Only now.
[and they stay there.]