1. (yes i know it’s january 23rd i am behind but i had most of this done in early december i just never finished)continue reading
1. the very bad, no good year continuescontinue reading
It’s the long-awaited finale to my photos from the trip to Rome, Italy I took two summers ago! I thought to myself the other day “hey, did I ever finish that Rome travel series of posts?”, checked the blog, and no, I had not. There was one more to go. So here we are, a full year and a half into my COVID lockdown life, unsure when I’ll venture out on international travels again, looking at photos of Rome. I don’t recall much about this day, but remembering what little I do feels so odd now. Like when I watch a YouTube vlog that I don’t realize was pre-COVID, and I have an automatic reaction at so many crowds gathering unmasked. How odd that it once was that I never thought twice about all this and plowed through crowds fearlessly to get the best view of an old pretty thing.
This was the Borghese Gallery, and they didn’t allow photography inside. But holy shit, this was a good art museum. Like, top three I’ve ever been in. Maybe even top one?! The paintings and sculptures are all beautiful, but the interiors are similarly gorgeous – marble, cornices, the works. I have no better words to describe this other than: holy shit, so fucking good, I’m dying to go again.
One more thing I’ll say before we leave for the gardens – the café staff were quite rude here. I made a mistake in my Italian when ordering and the guy helping me laughed, turned around and said something to his coworkers, and then they all laughed. I hope now that I was reading into it, but I think based on context, tone, and body language, they were laughing at me. And it was pretty shitty! That’s the last commentary I’ll leave in this post – we walked around the park after, all the way back to Piazza del Popolo and then to our hotel near The Pantheon.continue reading
1. life! it’s fast!continue reading
1. ~one degree hotter~, still waiting for my doubtless legions of admirers to come forwardCONTINUE READING
1. who knows honestly
Full transparency, it’s June 10 and I’m just now starting this blog post. I usually try to start these in the middle of the month it’s for, so even if I finish it late (which I usually do), I’ve already recorded a bit about what I’m feeling, doing, thinking, and it’s enough to get me going if I come back to it later. No such luck this time! I’m finishing this on June 20! What did I do during May? Have fun? Have a breakdown? It’s all a guess to me, but from what I’m piecing together from my journal and calendar, it’s something in between. In May I started hanging out with people outside my household again, which was lovely! I’ve had my boyfriend and my brother as my main social company for over a year now, so it’s been nice to see friends not in a small FaceTime screen on my phone and go to restaurants and whatnot with them. We also took a little trip to LA, and it was my last full month of undergrad!continue reading
1. spring has sprung sprang sproink spank sprank
Oops, I did it again. Nothing fun and sexy like the song, no – I overbooked myself and felt exhausted for a week, as I am apparently wont to do at the beginning of the quarter. What is it about ease that is so difficult for me? Is it that I think of myself as being either good or bad at everything, including finding ease and contentment and peace? Why do I say yes to so many things? Am I ambitious, or do I just think I need to do Useful Things for Other People to achieve some sense of worth? Would I be less neurotic if I weren’t so self-aware of my neuroses? (I think, in another life, I could have been a tortured and vaguely wealthy white man, and that positioning enables me to fill absolute gallons of novels with endless questions like this.) So, yeah, April started off like that, and I want to say it ended a little better. I got better throughout the month at saying no to things to take care of myself, and I’m trying to keep that up.
Also, I think I have allergies now. It’s horrid.continue reading