I Think I Need A New Heart

Lately, I've been mulling over a lot of things. Probably one too many things. One might even go so far as to say that my mulling meter is overflowing. Predominantly, I've been thinking about my future, how it doesn't seem to be enough to have a part-time job that I really like. I feel like most of the people around me (including those I barely know) are giving me a gentle nudge in the direction of graduate schools and internships. On the train home from New Hampshire the other day, this woman who knew hardly anything about me except that I write and am a senior in college was advising me to "look for an internship in the city and make connections." Seriously. Is it so hard to focus on current happiness? To do what makes you feel worthwhile right now, without being hyper-concerned about this mysterious ever-looming "future" I've been hearing so much about? Is it possible to be simultaneously unconventional and successful? Is it possible to have a crush on someone who claims people call him "the luck box?" Is it possible to eat a half of a watermelon in one sitting? Hint: the answers to the last two are, unfortunately, yes. I still haven't quite figured out what to do with the former two questions.

I picked up this lace dress last weekend while visiting Callie. I almost didn't try this dress on, but thanks to some encouragement from her, I ended up giving it a shot, and may have fallen in love with it. Or, at least, came the closest that I've ever come to falling in love with a garment. It's fun and girly, but can be easily roughed up by some denim. And you know I love me some denim vests.


Dress: Vintage, Vest: Salvation Army, Sandals: Madden Girl via Marshall's













So, while taking my photos today, my mom did this awesome thing where she took 8,000 horribly unflattering photos of me. I call this one,
"Did you say CAT?! WHERE?!"



And here is a gif of me falling over while laughing. Thanks, mom!






Until tomorrow,
Nicole

A Voice That Sings

This weekend was a silly weekend. On Saturday, we celebrated my father's birthday and father's day in one big, cheesy festival. After a yummy meal at Becco, we saw Spiderman: Turn Off the Dark. Yes, the musical about Spiderman. Oh wow, was it something. Definitely, something. The songs were about as terrible as I expected. For some reason, Arachne, the lady of Greek myth that is turned into a spider by a wrathful Athena, played like a super huge role in the musical. That, and she had an Irish accent. The Green Goblin was top notch, though. As were the parts where Spiderman flew over the tops of our heads. Afterwards, we ate a lot of cheesecake, and it was divine (like Athena, but with cake). Yesterday was less eventful, because I slept until noon and spent the whole day embroidering one piece of fabric.

These pictures make me laugh. Do you guys ever look through your photos and just think to yourself, "I am taking myself way too seriously"? I mean, what am I longingly gazing at in that side profile photo? That shady looking gray van that often parks in front of my house? Romantic! Sorry if I just shattered the illusion that I am a fairy who spends most of my time in soft lighting, gazing over my shoulder. You can still think that, if you want.

Skirt: Vintage, Top: Delia's, Sandals: Korks by Kork-Ease











Until tomorrow,
Nicole

You Can't Plan All the Parts

This jumper is one of my favorite things that I never wear. Before you argue with me that the previous sentence makes no sense-tence, let me explain. I really like the idea of this jumper, and how it looks hanging on the front of my dresser, but it's a tough piece to style. A few days ago, though, I channeled my inner infant train conductor (we all have one) and came up with this silly little outfit. It's a little weird, but if you (don't) know me (at all), you know I'm all about trying new things (rarely). Speaking of weird things, I've been feeling like a weird thing myself lately. Since I got back from California, I've been feeling pretty funky (and not in the good, Saturday Night Fever way, either). Work feels funky. My relationships with this city and this house feel funky. My relationships in general feel funky. Last night, I went out to a concert with my boss and some of his pals, and we saw a band called the Two Man Gentlemen Band, who were funky also (but in the good, Saturday Night Fever Way). See, funky. And weird. Another funky and weird (but good) thing? This book of Kurt Vonnegut's short stories I'm reading and posing with in these pictures.

Jumper: Asos, Shirt: Forever 21, Shoes: Vintage

Crown of Leaves

I may just have to cancel this blog until September, guys, because I kind of just want to wear this outfit everyday over the summer. And this being a "daily style/uncomfortably personal confessions" blog, I think you guys would probably get tired of seeing the same outfit. And I generally try to temper my uncomfortably personal confessions with decent, new outfits so you guys can look at the pictures and rapidly scroll past my long-winded memoirs. Okay, so I probably won't wear this outfit everyday, but I can't make any promises. I picked up this skirt at a store called Mars Vintage while shopping with Elanor in Berkeley. I love the pattern, and the length, and how flowy it is. It may in fact be my "dream skirt," if I were to have envisioned that sort of thing.

Now that I'm back from my first big trip of the summer, I'm excited to get started on some new projects. My internship search has been just that: a search. Unfortunately I've found the internships I want, but they don't want me apparently. While I'll still keep the search up, I also plan on trying to use my extra time this summer learning and being creative. I'm definitely going to learn how to sew (with a machine) and hopefully make another skirt, all on my own. I also came up with a fun little literary craft that I'm going to try to start on today. I definitely want to start writing again. That may be my number one personal priority (it's at least number 3). I haven't really written anything in about a month, and that's a scary length of time to just not have had any poetic thoughts worth scribbling or typing down. I may start seeking out prompts, because a prompt could lead you somewhere entirely weird and un-prompt related. And some of my favorite stuff I've written so far has come out of school assignments. We'll see, I suppose! What do you guys want to do this summer?

Top: Levi's, Skirt: Mars (store, not planet), Sandals: Madden Girl via Marshalls












Until tomorrow,
Nicole

Sutro Baths, 3

Last night, I got back from my trip to California with a lot of thoughts in my head and feelings in my heart. And stomach. Five hour flights make you hungry, it ain't no joke. Five hour flights are also good for staring out the window dramatically and reflecting on the adventures you've just had. I've had a big jumbly, tangled ball of thought yarn kicking around in my head since last night, and the thought of untangling it in this post is kind of daunting. Lucky (unlucky) for you guys though, I'm going to make a valiant effort.

This trip to California was the first trip I took by myself. It was the first major thing I did by myself, really. I know people take trips by themselves all the time, that it's super commonplace, but it isn't for me. Even going through security at JFK, I was thinking to myself, "What the heck you doin', gurl?" In a surprise turn of events (that I'm sure someone other than myself could have foreseen) I found myself thinking on that flight home about how much I enjoyed traveling by myself, how I want to do it again. And then again, and again, and again. WHAT? I think that I sell myself short a lot, is part of my problem. I'm inclined to delete that sentence because to say that you "sell yourself short" must imply that you're some real hot potato, no? No. As much as I like potatoes, I'm no hot one. But I am a capable young lady, apparently, which I tend to forget because I'm not used to it. Ten months ago I was convinced I couldn't go to school without my then boyfriend holding my hand (literally and figuratively) and now I'm flying across the country. Excuse me if I'm disoriented by myself.

I feel like I needed to take this trip for a lot of reasons, one of them being to prove to myself that I'm not the wimpy, dependent, fragile girl I was ten months ago. My second mom tells me this fact all the time, that I've come so far, that I could not possibly ever ever EVER be that girl again because I have grown into a new and improved version of myself. Now, it's a little less difficult for me to believe her when she says that.

I also had a lot of important talks while I was with my sister and her girlfriend. While walking through the Yerba Buena gardens in San Francisco, I received a phone call from my mother, which made frustrated me. In effect, she made it seem like it was selfish of me to go to California because it was stressing her out, because she was "too worried about me." They noticed I was visibly upset, and when given the go ahead, I launched a very long rant about my own guilt about leaving my mother, but my undeniable desire to move to the west coast, to find my own path despite my mother's ceaseless desire to baby me and keep me in New York as long as possible. My sister, having broken free many years ago, had some advice to share, as did her girlfriend. "You don't owe her your future." Hmm. This trip also helped me see that a lot of people have this sort of struggle and that you just have to live your own life, just as your parents did, just as their parents did. Everyone makes their own decisions, for themselves. My parents made the decision to get married to who they chose, live where they wanted, and have their kids when they did. I am entitled to all of those decisions, whether they go against my mother's wishes for herself or not. It's difficult and scary to think about, but I'm glad I thought about it.

This little vacation to northern California showed me a lot about who I am and who I want to be. I definitely wasn't thinking these things during the trip while I was riding a trolley, eating pomegranite ice cream and mac and cheese, playing old arcade games, taking the BART, playing with cats, and walking the ruins of Sutro Baths though. Speaking of Sutro Baths, which you think I would have by now in a post titled "Sutro Baths, 3," it is one of my absolute favorite places ever, and I've been to it on every trip I've taken to California so far. They're these ruins right by the ocean that you can wander around and traverse, and they're beautiful. We took this treacherous, steep path back up from the water, that I was positive I wouldn't be able to climb (I definitely didn't think about the symbolism in that AT ALL. Really.) It was the perfect end to an excellent trip.


















Photos by Daphny

Until tomorrow,
Nicole

Gruyere Girl

Things around here have been quite lazy lately. This weekend was spent doing a little bit of shopping, a little bit of hanging out, a little bit (a lot bit) of Doctor Who watching, and a little bit (a lot bit) of eating. I was planning on seeing a friend today, but when that fell through, I stood in bed for an extra hour listening to the rain rapping at my window. Let's all take a moment to reflect on how awesome rainy mornings are. Okay, good. Something about the stormy weather awakened the urge within me to cook. That and the fact that I've been reading Julia Child's My Life in France, which is all around delicious. So, I got dressed and headed to Fairway to do some grocery shopping. I have an irrational like of grocery shopping at that store by myself. It's nice to be able to stroll through rows of fresh fruit and vegetables, ogle cased pastries, and attempt to pronounce foods in the many international aisles without anyone around to rush you. Or judge you. I ended up baking a savory bread pudding, with bacon and gruyere and arugula. It was pretty good, if I do say so myself. So good that I ate too much of it. And smell like bacon and gruyere. The signs of a good meal?

Dress Forever 21, Sweater: Urban Outfitters, Boots: Vintage













(Bread pudding, not me)


Until tomorrow,
Nicole

Green Bean

I've been staring at this computer screen for a long time. It was bright when I started choosing my photos for this post, but the sunlight faded from the walls a few minutes ago, and I had to get up and turn my ceiling light on. Long time. The problem has been that I didn't know what to write. Or, rather, the problem has been that my mind has been preoccupied with something I initially didn't want to write about. Maybe I should write about how I match the scenery? Maybe I should write about the fact that my legs aren't shaven in these photos (spoiler alert)? Maybe I should write about records or lakes or the weather? That's been my dilemma. But my head isn't wrapped around those things right now (though it's rapidly growing concerned about the not-shaving tidbit I just shared). Instead, it's in this satellitic orbit around a glowy ball of change and future and wondering. To be Captain Obvious for a moment, I'm not one to shy away from over-sharing, but for some reason, I felt kind of reluctant to dive down into the muck of it, but lucky (unlucky) for you, that brief moment of normalcy seems to have passed.

Last night, I caught about a three minute segment of Glee (ugh, I know, I KNOW). I don't know if it was a current episode or older, but what I gathered from the three minutes was that Coach Beiste had decided to leave her abusive husband. They got into this argument as she threw her wedding ring onto the table. He said something like, "No one's going to love you like me. Who's gonna love you now?" and she said, "Me." Familiar. I cried a little bit, which isn't saying much for a sappy sap like me who has wept over Ghost Adventures, and possibly, Sir Walter Scott's gothic novel Waverly. As much as Glee isn't my thing, something about that scene made me simultaneously really uncomfortable and really comforted.

I have talked about my past enough on this blog, and don't need to go there again tonight. A question I've been asking myself a lot lately, and have been getting asked, is "Are you ready to start dating?" I was talking with a friend yesterday about someone, and she asked me, "If he was single, if he asked you out right now, would you say yes?" Hmm. Humm. Well. "No." What a strange thing for me to say. I don't even know how that word got there, into my mouth, out into the open air. I was a girl who needed to be in a relationship, who, after breaking up with her first boyfriend, started dating another a few weeks later. For for years. Now, I don't seem to be a girl who needs to be in a relationship. Right now, that is. And it's weird. It's a weird feeling to like being alone sometimes. It's a weird feeling to be able to say that I'm afraid to date someone right now. Maybe the word isn't "afraid," maybe it's reluctant, tentative, hippopotamus (it's probably not hippopotamus). As I explained to her, I know what I want, but I don't know if I'm ready to have it, strong enough to stick to my convictions and longings, confident enough to have expectations, recognize that they haven't been met, and act accordingly. She assures me that I am. I laugh and look at my hands.

The truth is, I've been comparing myself to other people again, which is a terrible and pointless thing to do. Thoughts like, "Well, she broke up with her boyfriend four months ago and has started dating again!" had been chilling out, maxing, and relaxing all cool in my brain. "Why not me, too?" This is why not me. There are a million reasons, and all of them have to do with me being myself, me being in the exact situation that only I have been in, and me needing to access myself. I still think part of me is afraid to admit it, that I'm okay on my own. That it's possible for me to exist and thrive as an individual. How weird is that!

If you want a segue that leads into a discussion about my outfit, I guess I could say that green is the color of growth. Or maybe I could say that making my own decisions extends into every aspect of my life, even something as simple as what do I want to wear today. Or maybe I could just talk about how my legs are unshaven in these photos.

Skirt: Aunt's, Blouse: Macy's+scissors, Shoes: Korks by Kork Ease













Until tomorrow,
Nicole