Here’s to the rock star with the crooked teeth,
the cellist, banker, mezzo bearing gifts,
the teacher with the flask inside her jeans—
those girls who made us sweat and lick our lips.

To the jeune fille who broke my heart in France,
the tramp who warmed your lap and licked your ear,
the one who bought me shots at 2 A.M.
that night I tied your pink tie at the bar.

Who smoked. Who locked you out. Who kissed my eyes
then pulled my hair and left me for a boy.
The girl who bit my upper, inner thigh.
My raspy laugh when I first heard your voice

toasting through broken kisses sloppy drunk:
To women! To abundance! To enough!

my favorite yuletide is moving to NYC next year 🙂
luckiest girl in town

10 days in Berlin, Prague and Vienna. update soon!

My first impressions of Athens were very visceral — the traffic; the undulating masses in the airport; the smog; the overwhelming smells of a foreign environment. There is no order, except in the disorder that has come to be expected. January and February were cold, slightly muggy months, where the sky was usually grey and morose. I like my apartment on the 3rd floor of a small street, across the way from a bakery, but am still waiting for it to get warm enough to sit out on my balcony.

I walk everywhere here, but it feels more troublesome than it ever was in Scotland (even with the rain and overcast days, in which I reveled), perhaps because the impatience of traffic here and pulsating tension in the streets takes hold of you. Athens is, in a word, a vigorous city, and it is so different from other facets of Greece – the pastoral islands, the quietness of the Peloponnese, the whispers and leisure of rural life.

It’s now March, and I still do not fully believe that my stay in Athens is half-finished. I am leaving on May 13th, and my college career will subsequently end nine hours later. I realize the finality of graduation, but feel very weightless in anticipation.

Strangely at peace with the prospect of law school in the fall…

Written by Mardy Rawls about John Rawls, ‘Jack’

“He was an extremely handsome, almost penniless graduate student with an amazing smile and a significant stammer, who danced enthusiastically, but badly. What young girl could resist that combination?”

Today is one of those days where everything is too loud, too invasive, and I leave the house completely unprepared for the prospect of human interaction. Some mornings, I open my eyes and instantly feel this hollowness to my mind; it’s as if the proportions of thought, emotion and action are completely skewed. Suddenly, I find the swift pace of my life to be quite foreign and untouchable. It’s not a depressed or anti-social thing, but perhaps, a matter of temperament and its unfolding consequences. It’s a thinking day. It’s a mulling-over-and-observing day.

The problem with maintaining a sense of self is the accompanying obligation, the implications of a Wednesday that has already been accounted for weeks before. It’s like writing out checks on borrowed money and cashing out with uncertain funds. I feel like, most days, I am rather pleased to see the trajectory of my choices and my life in general. I accept the complexity of intersecting actions (and non-action) that often continue in echoes. At times, I relish the momentum. Other times, like today, I am deeply invested in moments of startling emotion, where life is suddenly too vivid and stark for me to be walking by so absentmindedly. I wake up and there is already something on my mind, and I walk around aimlessly trying to replicate or find that emotion in the tangible pieces of my world. When I am prodded to speak, my words are dull and my thoughts feel incomplete and chipped; much seems to be lost in the conversion process of harvesting external explanations out of internal states of being.

It must be a strange person who finds dissatisfaction in a field of green expanse.

currently writing a paper on Aristotelian, Epicurean and Stoic notions of happiness for my Classics seminar class. Stoic philosophy has been my latest pet project, and I’ve become fairly obsessed with it. Is it bad that all I want to do is talk to people about Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations or Cicero’s De Officiis?

in other news, very excited for Russian food RIGHT NOW

As the days pass and I wake later and later, I am reminded of the equilibrium of life — how all seems to balance out in due time. Meetings and deadlines and immediate worries just greet me in passing. Even sorrow just settles after a while, and soon breaks off from my memory to follow another path. Some days, I am convinced that my own troubles, large and destructive, will lead to my certain demise. Other days, I am incorporeal and slip out of these shackles with ease.

stuck in my head to the point of distraction…

It’s actually been playing in the background of my entire day, so I’ve been in a very strange mood. I feel very solemn and a little crazed for no reason at all. Maybe it’s time to sleep.

my morning self:

I want to live in a world where
– people return shopping carts to where they belong
– plastic cups are obsolete
– space travel is affordable