CAT roommate list is up, and I'm working up the nerve to email them. D:
Tomorrow's Christmas. So we celebrate the birth of our savior, even though technically He was born around June. What could I possibly say that hasn't already been said a thousand times before? I guess it's just time for some introspection and a quiet prayer of thanks for the love that changed my life.
Xmas sales have been going on like crazy lately. It's been a tough battle against materialism. It still is, because in the end it's just clothes but it feels like validation. Yeah, I'm a complete Abercrombie girl...actually I might still be working there if I hadn't realized one day, '...you're an engineer. wtf are you doing here?' But I digress. It's easy for me to pass clothes up. Not so much the insecurity over needing them in the first place.
I dream of summer. All of it.
I think of the slow pace of summer school and the pages of literature that rustled beneath my fingers. The sun drenched hollows of your skin, the feel of grass between your toes. Hands that smell like sunblock; heavy rainshowers, gone before you realize they were there. When they're done, everything's cool and damp and humid at the same time. The breeze, against your hair and a pale blue sundress. Sand stuck in uncomfortable places and the salt in your hair, lazing on a lawn chair near the sea with a guitar strumming 30 feet away.
Everything is so blue, so muted blue. Like the quiet afternoons where light filters in the window. And the table countertop is set with ai-yu jelly and vinegared cucumbers. Illinois will be cold.
May summer last a hundred years.