10/22, no. 58

Everything seems much clearer and sharper outside. Backpacking and camping gives me really vivid dreams, and little is complicated when it comes to the outdoors. I'm going to save up and invest in a pair of stereotypical liberal arts attire (backpacking backpack and Tevas) and go out to Mt. Rainier or the Olympics more often, because a) I need to start taking advantage of PSO (Puget Sound Outdoors, the second most popular club on campus that goes on multiple trips - including kayaking, canoeing, hiking, backpacking, camping, rock climbing, etc - every weekend) and b) I love campus, I think it's beautiful, but a small vacation would be really nice.
Go outside. Things are better there.

10/9, no. 53

One thing I really love about college is the fact that I learn so much outside of the classroom. This past weekend alone I learned how to properly knit and ride a bicycle, both of which I've been actively and almost constantly utilizing now. Knitting needs little mental energy yet requires pretty focused concentration, which are two traits that aptly describe my favorite cathartic guilty pleasures (like painting nails). Biking is a literal source of escape, everything seems so much more fast-paced and urban when riding a bike (but I'm probably biased seeing as how the only times I've biked are after the sun's gone down).
And then there are the lessons learned that could very possibly help me out in random corners, significant or not, of life: how and why you should only drink black coffee, how to take care of a completely shitfaced acquaintance, how to make houses/shoe racks/bookshelves/etc out of cardboard boxes, how to engage in conversation better (people love to talk about themselves, so to lessen the awkwardness you just keep asking questions and seem interested. Luckily the latter portion of this protocol isn't too hard because people, as it turns out, are actually pretty cool).
I've learned other things, too. I talked to a close friend's cousin, a wise senior at Middlebury, and he explained to me that one shouldn't be whoring themselves off to different careers by changing or idiotically majoring in a subject they don't love; rather, we should be examining ourselves, seeing what we do best because "life is about doing, not just learning; you're not going to be reading essays and writing theses when you're 40, you're going to be doing." Thank you, by the way.
And during another phone call with the same close friend last night I was told something I've been severely overlooking during the past year: "Ashley, I know you love journalism and English. You've been wanting to do that for years. It might not be the most marketable major, but it's what you love to do. So do what you love to do, and be the best at it." (Thank you, too). And it's true. All throughout middle school I'd be obsessed with writing and I made sure I would be at the top of the class in the field of English - in the eighth grade, I had an immense desire to study journalism in Germany. But when I was handed a fat slap of reality, I guess I took it the wrong way and looked at other fields and freaked out.
I'm in a big state of transition right now. I'm just focusing on the doing as of now, because regardless of my major, the "doing" will always be marketable and important. I don't think my reasons for studying medicine were ever even very strong. Things are volatile and tentative right now, which makes me feel like I'm walking on eggshells, but I'll figure it sooner or later.
Essentially, all my ramblings in this post can be summed up with the words of one of my favorite authors: "Education is an admirable thing, but it is well to remember from time to time that nothing that is worth knowing can be taught."

9/4, no. 28

a life in lists.

1. cheddar jalapeno bagels

2. special k red berries

3. excessive doses of gummy vitamins

4. my blue nalgene water bottle. bpa free, bitches.

5. a small conglomerate of books on my desk - including The Bell Jar, The Time of the Uprooted, The Counterlife, Northanger Abbey, Born on a Blue Day, Better

6. Sudoku book

7. my dubbed insolvable Rubik's cube

8. my $0.99 plastic made in commie nation green bowl from Fred Meyer for my keys and ID card

9. yarn and knitting needles.

10. Gorp

11. my expensive Fossil keychain of a floral blue bird

12. Acco 100 ct. Jumpo Paper Clips

13. the small poster I made that says "Who are we to judge the alcoholic, the prostitute, the addict, or the criminal as if we are any better" in font size 58 bold Helvetica.

14. my European-style window next to my bed.

15. waking up to the tree whose branches caress said window.

15. not knowing how to count. this is number sixteen.

17. being constantly reminded of the vividness of life just by going outside, walking down the steps and seeing frisbee players or poets or writers or dancers or tanners or singers or sleepers on Todd Field

18. the video game noises heard through the thin walls from my neighbor's room...sometimes.

19. Soy chai from Oppenheimer Cafe; I've yet to try their dirty chai.

20. REI.

21. the random finds around Tacoma (all the old record stores, independent coffee shops, and utter abundance of thrift stores)

22. speaking of - my $3 long skirt and $6 flannel from Orange on 6th.

23. the people I've met! you guys are great...thank you for being wonderful

24. the people I miss! I am so so so incredibly excited for October Fall Break during which we can reunite and sing songs. you all are irreplaceable and I love you all so much.

25. the fact that Tacoma is great and all even though it's a suburb - it's nice, some parts are quaint, but it reaffirms my long-held promise to myself that suburban life is not for me, and thus I will never settle for or in one.