On the smell of home

Last night my bed smelled like the house I grew up in. It wasn't my pillow or my blanket in specific, it was just how it smelled when I laid down. I inhaled, and inhaled to try to pinpoint what it was to recreate it but I couldn't pin it down. Sometimes it's difficult for me to wrap my head around smelling it only twice a year.

But this city is so beautiful, and when I am away from it, I miss it.

On le faux.

When things start going south,

all I have to do is think of drag Britney.

Suddenly, all is okay in the world.

On decisions

There comes a time when you realize the patterns your mind works in. Most people are cautious decision makers who think with their head. People who weigh both sides carefully, and factor in important things, waiting patiently for the correct time and place.

I've learned that I usually just close my eyes, open my heart, and jump in headfirst.

(Don't fail me now!)

On hopeless things and love.

I love the impossible, always.

This time, maybe it's the impossible that loves me.

Maybe.

On sometimes remembering that I'm pretty okay.

Sometimes I make strange decisions, and have bad days. Sometimes I don't pay my credit card bill on time and get homesick. Sometimes I don't sleep enough, don't remember to think before I speak, or read directions. Sometimes I forget to take my vitamins, do the dishes, and call people back.

Sometimes I am really loyal. Sometimes I remember to send thank-you notes, and am really good at listening. Sometimes I am a hard worker, and sometimes I would do anything for the people I care about. Sometimes I am a good daughter, a good sister, a good cousin, and a good niece.

Sometimes when I'm feeling really insecure, I just have to remind myself that I am pretty okay.

On moving closer to the water.

I don't think that I've written yet of my move across town. I just recently moved to lower Queen Anne Hill (pictured on the right of the first picture). I live in a little brick apartment complex with creaky wooden floors and old pictures hanging in the hallways. Grocery stores and delicious ethnic foods are on every corner, and book and record stores are in much to close a proximity to my place of residence for my wallet to handle. I am a few blocks from Kerry Park, where you can walk up the hill and look over the city in all of it's entirety, and a few blocks from Elliott Bay and all of it's shimmering glory. I know I talk a lot about how much I love this city. I must sound like a broken record sometimes, but really... who can blame me?

On savoring youth & winter

Winter is so cozy. Slow, dreary and cozy. Coffee and umbrellas and wearing wool sweaters always make sense. I know soon I'll have to figure out what I'm doing. Plan out my next steps and start putting them into motion, but not for now. For now I will continue sleeping in too late, reading, cooking, and enjoying cable television. For now I will continue living paycheck to paycheck, [and only worrying about it sometimes], continue to fill my lungs with crisp cool air, go on long walks and write letters to friends far away. For now I will just enjoy living life young, and care-free before the hard stuff comes my way. I know it will eventually, I just want to make sure I've lived enough to welcome it.