Keep on livin'

I started this blog months ago and I still don't know what I'd like to use it for. For now, we'll settle on randomness.

I'm in Durango, Colorado right now, visiting my friend Victoria, whose mom bought me a plane ticket as a Christmas gift. I arrived on December 24 and will be heading back to Detroit on January 2.

I know it sounds touristy of me, but the Rocky Mountains are friggin' gorgeous. I wish I had something pretty to look at in Michigan (maybe I do but I'm taking it for granted because I've lived there all my life). I don't travel much, so I dig the scenery. I can see the mountains at any time, wherever I am: through the windows of Victoria's house, from the coffee shop in town, and from the road to New Mexico (yes, we went to New Mexico, just to shop at Target; it was amusing and a half).

I definitely needed to get away for a while. Just like every other 20-something out there, I've been trying to figure out what the hell I want to do with the rest of my life. Wishing I could be as happy as I was two years ago. Mustering up enough energy to make the changes that will (hopefully) make me as happy as I was then.

In the meantime, I'm drinking wine, watching countless episodes of Gilmore Girls, and reading some good books (the new Francine Prose book and this year's edition of _The Best American Poetry_, among others). Eating junk food and trying to relax, even though I had a nightmare about Cardinal Sins last night--the first of the semester. And the semester hasn't even started yet!

Sigh. Whatevs. Bring it on, 2010. Bring it on.

'Tis the season.

Here's my gift to you: my favorite YouTube video, featuring Fiona Apple on the Late, Late Show back in 2006. She sings "Get Him Back," and afterward, is interviewed by Craig Ferguson. I could gush about how wonderful the interview is, but instead, I'll let you see for yourself.

Enjoy.

Growing pains.

This is how it works:
You're young until you're not;
you love until you don't;
you try until you can't;
you laugh until you cry;
you cry until you laugh;
and everyone must breathe
until their dying breath.

Those lyrics (from a song by Regina Spektor) sum up my year.

In 2009 I moved into my first apartment, became the editor-in-chief of Cardinal Sins, saw Tracy Chapman in concert (!!!), turned 21, went to a funeral for a 6-year-old, failed a class, came out of the closet, made and lost some really wonderful friends, and tried (but failed) to stop biting my nails.

For the first time, I didn't feel young. I lived, and figured out that living kind of hurts. They aren't shitting you when they say life is hard/not all about looking good on paper.

It's over.

Dear Fall 2009 Semester,

I'm breaking up with you. I wish it would have worked out between us. You seemed pretty cool when I met you: a bunch of English classes, a gig with a small press in Bay City, and leadership experience via Cardinal Sins.

But you're just too needy, Fall '09. And our relationship has consumed a little too much of my time and energy. My friends miss me. So does my cat. (Didn't I warn you not to cut into the time I set aside for my feline?)

I know, I know. You tried your best to be good to me. Some of the stuff we did together looks pretty awesome on my resume. And I appreciate all the chocolate you gave me, but it's giving me acne. I need to start eating well-balanced meals, and it's safe to assume you won't cook them for me.

As much as I'd like to remain friends, it just isn't meant to be, and I'd prefer if you didn't try to contact me ever again. I know you might be tempted to call me to meet up for coffee, but as much as I love coffee, I don't think we have much to reminisce about.

I wish you the best of luck with the rest of your life, and bid thee farewell.

Love,
Amelia