I have found the piece I never finished learning (I never got past the first two pages! for good reason) and now you will have the privilege of listening to me screech practice it FOR FUN until I go back to the dorms in August! I’m sure you’ll love the chords and the runs and the work on the E string! I know I’ll be enjoying it!
Most of the photos in my pictures library on this computer are covered with blue, on the account of the fact that most of the pictures I’ve taken and moved onto this computer are of the sky (or actually, things like shower trees or signs with the sky as a background) or of the sea. Most of the photos have already had their time as my background, and I don’t really like seeing real people in photos every time I view the desktop.
So I changed the photo, and the color theme to match it. But now it’s red and everything’s clashing. The red clashes with Tumblr, with AIM (I keep it purple) with Facebook, with iTunes (a bit)… Noooooo. I like how everything looks when nothing opens. Does this mean I should change my habits and not open these things? xD
Nah. =P I’ll see how long I can handle this color mess.
On another note, I’ve been reading all the issues of Teen Vogue (yes, we have had a subscription to this) that have been piling up in my home. Mostly I’ve been looking at the photos and being like HMRGHHHHH THAT DRESS IS SO PRETTY or THAT MODEL IS SO PRETTY or thinking “I should probably look up that musician they name-dropped”. Maybe it’s just part of the “man I want to try being more girly (outwardly)” thought that I’ve been having all summer that’s been driving me to do this… But I’m too lazy.
Also I’m a disaster. I’ve realized that every time I put on even just eyeliner (or mascara), I always end up rubbing my eyes. ALL. THE. TIME.
How could I forget that I had both my chemistry and physics lab on the same day last semester? How could I forget those long days of alternating experiment-performing and eating? xD It’s crazy how quickly my memory fades.
I don’t want to forget a thing about this past freshman year. It was pretty darn fun.
Every time I open up Tumblr, I feel less and less inclined to scroll through many pages of dashboard. I look at the number of posts I have left in my queue and think, “Maybe I should delete this all when that number goes down to 0.” I’ve got it set to post one a day at noon.
“A couple of months after returning from Zagreb, deep into the construction of this article, my current girlfriend Maggie and I split. I hadn’t actually felt heartbreak in more than six years, and the force of it was surprising. When you’re in a relationship, you don’t realize how many times a day you think of your partner: “I can’t wait to tell Maggie this,” or, “I wonder what Maggie wants for dinner.” One day I counted. I thought of Maggie seventy-three times in twenty-four hours. If, as Fisher maintains, new love is like obsessive-compulsive disorder, then, for me at least, a breakup is like a traumatic head injury. I’d forget sometimes that she was gone. I’d say “we” instead of “I” or somehow forget that she wouldn’t be there every morning when I woke up. Sometimes I’d feel nauseous and disoriented, as if I’d had a concussion.”
I’m so engrossed in this article now, especially with all the scientific talk woven in. But this is all kind of nice to read.
“A broken heart makes us human, and sometimes being human is a ridiculous, painful, desperate thing.”
“The museum is like a shop window where you can come and see other people’s lives,” she said. “I’ve become a better person after a couple of breakups—especially this one with Drazen. The common perception is that you’re suffering and you have to stop suffering. But suffering is okay. If you’re just happy, watching TV and eating your pizza—then what? This makes you think about yourself, which is the most important thing.”
“The best moments in reading are when you come across something - a thought, a feeling, a way of looking at things - which you had thought special and particular to you. And now, here it is, set down by someone else, a person you have never met, someone even who is long dead. And it is as if a hand has come out, and taken yours.”—Alan Bennett (via misswallflower)