Something to Celebrate

Today marks one year for me as a dweller of New York City. I swear, the more time that passes, the quicker it goes. Does that make any sense? When I arrived here a year ago, I had some idea of what it may be like living in New York. I knew I wouldn't have a car, I knew I would be a student again, I knew I'd be poor, I knew I'd be challenged, and I knew I would learn a lot. I was right on all of those things. And after going through a year of grad school, not only surviving, but doing well at it simultaneously, and exploring and playing quite hard this summer, I feel much more confident where I stand in my life and what I am doing. Little by little, I feel more and more sure of the direction I am choosing to go. I had a sweet moment today in church that solidified that feeling for me. I also felt the feeling of gratitude. I have a fantastic life and have been so blessed.
Is it just me, or does August 15th look more like September 15th?

Rainy Days and Reading

It's raining again in New York and I have to do laundry again. Go figure. Last time I did laundry it was raining. It's no biggie if you have a car to get into to drive your laundry to the laundry mat, or better yet, you don't have to go anywhere because you have a washer and dryer at home. But alas, these are not luxuries I enjoy at this time in my life. Carrying a load of laundry while trying to balance an umbrella and detergent is no easy task. I even took my push cart last time, and it was still difficult. Instead, I feel like staying in doors and curling up to a book. Yep, I said it. I am going to READ. I just read a friend's blog post about wanting to read a lot this summer, though she admitted to being not the greatest reader. I can relate. I have never been a big reader, and I take a really long time to get through a book. I also feel like I get bored quickly. Typically, if the book doesn't grab me within the first few pages, I have a hard time committing to it. Ha. It's like my relationships, only I'm the book, not the reader. If someone would just keep reading, for crying out loud...

This is a good depiction of how I feel about that above statement.

And that leads me to my renewed effort to READ often. I gotta give books a decent shot, right?! I can't be a hypocrite. I was talking to someone about this the other day, how I've never loved to read, but wish I did. And then I thought, well, have I ever really tried it long enough? I blamed the lack of desire on the fact that I've been forced to read things (in school) my entire life. But leisure reading is something entirely different. I love books themselves, especially used ones. I used to buy them from second-hand stores all the time, with the intent to read them. I usually would pick them up, begin to read them, and then get distracted with something else. I had an entire, tall bookcase full of 'em! I got rid of most of them when I moved to NYC.

A year or so back, I picked up some books and lost myself in them, and it was a good thing. Reading is a form of escape, no? It's an approved form of escape, even. So, I'm doin' it. I have my entire summer off, lots of free time on my hands, and I'm going to make a point to read, dangit! And this is where I'm going to start:

It was on my roommate's shelf. Only a hundred and something pages. Startin' out small. Don't judge me.