Change is in the wind.

I'm really not digging the voice of this blog, as of yet. It sounds all too attemptedly elegant and cheesy-peesy. Let's get a little more raw and cultish, shall we?

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Thanks kid!

Today, I was driving home from class, feeling pretty dandy about the weather being so blustery and splendid. I was sitting in a line of cars and, being the curious human that I am, I found myself scanning the faces in the adjacent vehicles. My panoramic gaze stopped short on the face of a smiling little black kid, probably ten or eleven. His face was squeezed between his seatbelt and the window, as he tried to look back at me from his position in the front seat. His brother was sitting in the back seat, probably a little older. Being the weirdo that I am, I made a face at the former taking advantage of one of my many hidden talents. He started laughing hysterically, and then dropped coyly underneath the window. I pretended to forget, and took a swig of water as I saw him creep up, eyes first, from his hiding place. When I looked again, he was wearing a mile-wide smile, and waving. I waved back vigorously, excited about this new secret friendship. This went on for quite a while, as I passed them, and vice versa. Finally, our paths began to split, and as I glanced over my shoulder, I saw his little hands pop out of the window, shaking with fervor as we exchanged a last blow fish face and laughter on both our parts. It may sound corny but it's amazing how good I feel now! I really wish that it didn't take a child's mindset to make eye contact with a stranger. C'mon guys, it's a new generation. "We will prevail."

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I have a girl crush on Audrey Tautou.

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Fancy a cycle?

Oh, to join in.

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Fall, won't you be my neighbor?

As it is nearing that time of year, my thoughts are consistently turning their attention towards Julian. It's the place I'll miss most, when I leave. It's tradition, and it brings a sense of harmonious calm, and comfort, when I think of the brisk, chill air, the wind in the russet-colored leaves, and the familiar faces of the local elderly folk who endure, day-in and day-out, the many tourists who draw near for that fine apple pie and a temporary mental dismissal of reality.

Fall is my favorite time of year. It boasts, humbly, of sweet, savory smells, blustery winds and coats and scarves of warm and endearing colors. It makes me think of Winnie the Pooh, and teases me with the wish for memories of FDR's fireside chats and the crackling of old radios as hundreds listened to the warmth of his benevolent voice. I ache for one of my grandfather's soft, gentle hugs as we curled up together on his sofa chair, him reading an old western aloud, and I (a child of five) listening to the age and wisdom which rang clearly throughout his sweet, old-man voice. I can't stop thinking about him, and the opportunities I've lost, in hearing the sound of his voice ring true once more.

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Film nights are the best of all nights.

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Let's be reasonable.

I could never get up the nerve to do it myself, but if ever someone is ingenious enough to purchase one of these for me, I should be forever content. Everyone could use a nice pillow companion!

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