More London pics today!! I KNOW it has been like half a goddamn year since I was actually IN London but like I never got around to publishing these so here we go!!!!! We’ll be checkin’ out the Courtauld Gallery (an impressionist art museum in which I am pretty sure I died and ascended to heaven), Covent Garden (home of Shake Shack as well as other, less important things), and Chinatown (where my arm almost fell off several times upon having to lug a huge bag of rice back to our flat from the Asian supermarket).
1. i am late! but that’s ok
October is in full swing which means that this month in review for the month of September is very late!! But that’s OK. This gives me a little bit of an uncomfortable elbow nudge of a segue into how I’ve been feeling like I’m late in life. If that makes sense? Hang on, I’ll explain – I’m 20. I’m out of my teens and I’m an Adult. Capital A. When I was younger, I always thought I’d have my shit together when I was 20. It felt like an age where I’d finally enjoy physical activity, have a handle on what credit is, be halfway through college and therefore halfway to a career path I’d love, et cetera et cetera. I’m, like, nowhere near that, guys!!! And it feels like I’m a massive fucking failure most of the time. I am not even one year into community college, and even though that’s going pretty well so far for me (knock on wood), I feel so goddamn late. I feel behind on this imaginary schedule I’ve had in my head. And I’m trying to remind myself that it’s OK to not be following the same path that all your friends are on and it’s OK to not have it all together a mere two decades into your life and it’s OK to feel this way, period. I’m trying to shift my expectations of life so that I’m not gunning for some eventual period of time where I ~arrive~* at an all-knowing point, where I’m this badass boss lady who knows what she wants, who she is, where she’s going, and all that. I’m trying to convince myself that in the future, I’m still going to be me. And that ‘me’, most likely, will still have hella anxiety about hella thingz, and I’ll probably always love pens and office products a stupid amount and I’ll probably never have everything in my life 100% figured out and that is OK! Basically, I’m here and I’m trying to convince myself that it’s entirely OK for me to just show up to life, even if I don’t feel prepared. Even if I don’t have an encyclopedic knowledge of retirement funds in my head. I’m on my ~own path~*, like all those Instagram #motivationmonday hand-lettered images say, and that’s damn fucking fine.
So that’s where my head’s been at lately.
2. snaps from the camera roll
Finally pants weather in northern California! I’ve been dipping my toe into the straight legged jean thing, because Lizzy Hadfield from Shot From The Street looks so good in them all the time.
Blue skies! Good to look back at September and remember these days bc right now we’re sittin’ through wildfires.
Decor in a cafe the boyfriend and I went to brunch at one time.
New shoes that you can see a little bit of!!!! I love ’em I love ’em I love ’em.
3. the xx + tycho’s show
This month I saw The XX (and Tycho, but we missed half their set lol) with my boyfriend and they were so. good. !!! They are so good live, like their voices and songs sound just as clear and lovely as when you listen to them in your bedroom by yourself (which is what I do), and the lights were too good. Jamie also played Loud Places!! Ugh. I’m incoherent about all things I like, because I really just want to go “!!! This is so nice !!!” and that’s, you know, not super eloquent so I don’t do it. Like, how do you express how much a band’s songs and sounds speak to, comfort, heal you? Idk, bruh. Anyway, this is a single from their latest album, and it makes my heart ache when I listen to it. If you haven’t listened to the XX yet, pls do. If you have, go see them live if you can! (I would upload a video I took of the show but I don’t have WordPress Premium – we ain’t made of money over here – and so cannot upload videos. Whatever it doesn’t bother me!!) (It does bother me. Wtf wordpress.)
4. luna photo(s) of the month
5. THAT’S IT THAT’S THE END NO READING LIST I’M TIRED OF THIS SITTING IN MY DRAAAAAAFTS
thanks 4 readin folks, xo max 🙂
Oh boy, this is gonna be a monster of a little series – Today we’re gonna start taking a look at all the photos I snapped while living in London from January to June (of 2017), and I’m gonna attempt to give you some tips should you yourself want to take a lil trip to the land of prawn cocktail crisps. I debated making an actual “London – A Guide!” post, and I even started it (it’s sitting in my drafts as we speak), but it was just too damn much and I didn’t feel qualified enough. (This is a discussion for another time, ‘this’ being the pervasive feeling of “not enough” that I am always feeling.) So instead, I bring you a diary of everything I committed to camera memory, plus some commentary and the occasional helpful comment. 🙂 Let’s get into it!
1. back to school
So, school is a thing that I have started doing again. It’s, um, alright? I’m two weeks into community college at home in CA, and it’s – it’s alright. I have a lot of feelings about it (I have a lot of feelings about a lot of things, tbh), going from “oh my god I’m behind at life I’m a complete failure what am I doing with myself” to the very rare “I’m gonna do it! I’m gonna kill it! This is a step in my vast journey that we call life and it’s going to be so educational and rewarding!” On most days, we go 60-40 between those two points.
2. reading (etc) list
How It Feels to Be Free by Camryn Garrett on Rookie Mag: This month was a shitty month in terms of going-ons in the country (i.e. white supremacy rearing its ugly head), but then again, most months are. In the few days after the white nationalist march in Charlottesville, VA, I was scrolling through Instagram and saw a screenshotted block of text from Tavi Gevinson’s account. I followed the link in bio to this piece by Camryn Garrett on Rookie, and oh man. It says so eloquently and succinctly what all black feminists must be thinking, in a way that I can sort of relate to, but will never be able to wholly relate to, because my people weren’t enslaved and killed etc etc. Here’s an excerpt from the end:
I don’t want to sacrifice myself for the sake of white feelings. I don’t want to sacrifice black artists and their creations in order for white people to feel like we live in a post-racial society. I will no longer change my language in order to make white people feel comfortable in a conversation about police brutality. We are not just uncomfortable. We are dying. We are being murdered, and despite our protests, people in power are not putting a stop to it. In this world, in this country, in the year 2016, being polite and saving white people from hurt feelings cannot be more important than black lives.
OK, this guy’s a bit of a belated travel diary post. When the fam and I were still in the UK (so, months ago), my aunt and uncle came to visit so we thought we’d take them on a couple day trips out of London – one to Oxford, home of the Hogwarts great hall, and Brighton, a cute lil seaside town. Here are some photos from that! Continue reading
Welp, I’m back, after another blogging break where I just dropped off the face of the WordPress earth. I think these statements like “I’m back!” would be more appropriate had anyone noticed that I was gone in the first place, but you know. I noticed I was gone.
Today is July 15th. I’ve spent just over a month back home in my sleepy town in California, and I feel like I’ve gotten very little accomplished in this time. For fuck’s sake, I feel like I’ve gotten very little accomplished in the past year-slash-ALL OF MY LIFE. Where does this bizarre expectation/ambition come from? Is it just a ‘my personality’ thing or is it a product of being asked when I was little where the last 2% on a test I got a 98 on went? Who fuckin’ knows.
I’m thinking about things like – how to take care of myself. Where to draw the line between pushing myself and letting myself rest. How to shift the foundations of how I think so I can breathe easy. What kind of person I want to become.
It’s just you and me today, blog universe. So let’s sit and I’ll pour out my heart, my uncertain, frantic, depressed heart, and maybe I’ll glean something from it after it’s all done.
A lot of the time people will tell you they’re “here for you”. They’re here if you want to talk, if you want to cry, if you want to be distracted. I want to be “here for you”, too, only “you” is “myself”. So I guess that would make it here for me. I need to be here for myself, because I am the biggest constant in my life; I am my own home.
I want to work on being present and conscious. I’m very focused on how lacking I am, and so I’m constantly not really “there”, wherever “there” may be at that time. I’m not touching smelling tasting seeing hearing whatever is happening, because I’m thinking about where I think I should be instead of where I am. I’m fixated on how to get there, and where that actually is, what that actually entails. But I’m only breathing now – I’m in constant conflict with myself and the present, because all I’m thinking of is how lacking it is and how I can change it for the future. I want to stop and let myself be. (i.e. subtweeting myself @maxine CAN SHE LIVE) I live in my head so damn much, always talking to myself up in that noggin (another subtweet I’d like to direct @maxine y do u talk like an old man from the Highlands), and I want to get out sometimes. It’s hard shutting yourself up though, when I could replay hours of awkward exchanges on command. (I can even do that unsolicited. Hours upon hours of saying the wrong thing and doing the worst thing, comin’ right up! Roll in for a full theatrical masterpiece of self-loathing!) My point is: I want to get out of my head, stop constantly being unhappy with myself, and let myself LIVE.
There’s a line to draw here, though, and it’s subtle and blurred and I have no idea where the line actually is. The line might even not be a line at all! It could be dots!!! Very small and very close together!! At the same time I’m letting myself just be, I want to be bettering myself. Are these two ideas fundamentally at odds? I have a feeling they might be, but I don’t want them to be like that. I want to live at peace with myself, while also constantly striving to craft a life I am at home in. That’s a balance I think I’ll be figuring out for the rest of my life, but goddamn if I don’t want to arrive at the rest of my life right the fuck now, instead of stuck in this place I feel like is a stagnant, festering cesspit of a dental waiting room.
But!!! There is no such thing as the waiting room. I was listening to an episode of the Monocycle podcast, hosted by the one and only Leandra of Man Repeller (we are on a first name basis because she’s one of those Internet greats that spawn deep internal questions like, “What would Leandra do? Clash patterns?”), on a walk home through Kensington Gardens when I was still in London. This was a while ago, because it was still chilly and I remember wearing gloves and having to yank them off quickly because I needed to get down what she was saying. The thing I wrote down, the thing that I’m trying desperately to get my thick head to understand, is that the waiting room doesn’t exist. I can’t just be “waiting” for my life to happen. This period of stagnancy is still my life, this period where I feel lost and adrift in an ocean – it’s still my life! My life isn’t on pause. It hasn’t stopped patiently, waiting for me to get back on my tricycle and keep plodding along. My life is the waiting room; my waiting room is life.
I can’t just “wait” to be called out of this waiting room. This is something I’m going to need to figure the fuck out of by myself. There are doors and escape paths, and I just need to find them. I’m here for me. I’m the only one who is going to give myself everything I’ve got.
We’re a week out from the end of my spring 10×10 experiment where I wore 10 pieces of clothing for 10 days, so today I’ll be recapping my experience with the challenge/experiment/what else can I call it to make it sound less pressure-y, and sharing some of the things I’m taking away as I move forward with my closet. (This was probably an awful sentence to read for anyone into the English language and its grammar – Sorry! I love long sentences and use commas where my teachers tell me I ought not to.)