Every once in a while, my friend Chels and I decide we need to go adventuring. Besides planning our own hippy - nudist commune, it is probably our second favorite thing to do. And besides, I firmly believe that every soul needs a little adventure once in a while. Ours just happens to center around abandoned places.
I'm not really sure what it is about these kind of places that draws me, but I love the feeling of traipsing around somewhere neglected, seeing the beauty in something others might regard as a lost cause.
There happens to be a really gorgeous old estate near my parent's house that we visited yesterday. A shooting happened there a few years ago and it's fallen into neglect since then. Oddly enough though, we weren't frightened there at all (except for the few times we heard gun shots. Hello, hunting season in Pennsylvania) ... just awed by its haunting beauty. Please enjoy the following (slightly excessive) photo dump :)
My parents always get very concerned when they learn that we're going "adventuring." Thankfully, when I remind them that this is the most illegal and morally culpable thing I do, they come 'round pretty quickly. And besides, we're both very good runners.
#YOLO
[sometimes I like writing letters to myself and pretending someone else wrote them - someone who is older, and wiser, and knows what to say to make things okay. Someone who can look past all the mercurial thoughts and emotions and make sense of them and make them work for her, instead of against her. If I had someone like that, she would say something like this]
Dear Emily:
I don't know the right words to say this, to start it off in some poetic fashion that will blow your mind, so I'll just say this: you're only 22.
I don't know what you're rushing for, and you don't know either, so just stop. Stop panicking over nothing, stop needlessly filling your hours worrying. This all sounds so cliche but just do it. You're only 22, it's okay to not know exactly where your life is going. If there's anything God teaches us it's that He works in unexpected ways, so trust in that. Stop hacking your way through brambles with a hatchet, crying angry tears because you can't make things work the way you want. Maybe there's a reason for that. Maybe you need to accept that.
It's good to want more. It's good to push, to try harder. You can always be better, but that's not a personal affront to you. It's not supposed to make you miserable. You can't be everything all the time. You can't be the girl in the other office who talks so eloquently, who dresses well every day, who's getting married next year. You aren't her, so stop wishing you are. Stop trying to be other people; you're too old for this game.
You're too old for that, but too young to feel old. Take some yoga classes or something, shit. Try something different if what you're doing isn't working for you. But stop beating yourself up too. Of all the things not working - that's the biggest. I read a poem once, one that said that there is no expected pace for inner learning. That what we need to learn comes when we need it.
Just remember that. You're only 22.
Have you guys heard about the BIC Cristal For Her Ball Pens? Not yet? Well, you're welcome.
Last night, my Juliefriend emailed me with very important news, as she usually does. Apparently, BIC has come out with a line of "just for women" ballpoint pens. How are they "just for women?" Well, even though they write in black like a "normal" pen, they come in delicate, feminine crystalline shells with a "sleek design" ... I'm sorry, I can't write anymore. I'm laughing too hard.
People all over the internet are going crazy over these. The reviews I've read are beyond hilarious. Oh, and the Brits are in on the review bandwagon too. So you know they're going to be good!
Some of my favorites:
I'm dying. Please, please go read more of these. Unless you're easily offended, I suppose. Or are against female humor. You might not like them so much then.
To the rest of you who stuck around - obviously I'm going out to pick up some of these fantabulous pens pronto ... who wants to go to Target?!
It was funny, as I was laying waiting for sleep last night, in my new place, in my own bed, I wasn't anxious or worried or missing home.
All I could think was how lucky I am, and how proud I am to have made it work.
My roommate is a complete sweetheart, there is a one-eyed cat named Monster and a skinny little cat named Lily, and a tiny dog with a big attitude that follows me around with his head cocked to one side and gets excited over the tiniest things.
There is a train that comes through town at 3 in the morning, and a fridge full of fruits that I bought for myself, with money that I earned at a job I'm lucky to have, even if it isn't my dream.
This isn't where I saw myself a year ago, or 6 months, or even 3. But it is a good place to be, and I'm happy to stay a while.
