inspiration at last.

yesterday i laughed. i laughed really, really hard. its not because anything was particularly funny, although an assortment of situations (including, but not limited to, instances involving spaghetti, stretching, hookers, and wisconsin) could have qualified as such. its because once again i felt content. the settled stomach, the easy smile, the knowledge that yes, these are the people i want to spend my time with.

for me, happiness comes easy. im good at it. i can distract myself and engage in activites that make me feel good. but contentness doesnt come around as often. as ive previously whined about, i get restless. i get a grass-is-always-greener complex and lose perspective. i feel better than i did before, but i dont want to spend quality time in a quality place wishing i was somewhere else. it takes the quality part out of the equation.

anyway. i think for the most part i saw everyone this weekend who reads this silly thing, so thank you. for sitting on a bed on a saturday night and swapping bedouin tent stories. for helping me pick out a new dress and make fun of shiny things. for not hating me through an afternoon full of "remember when's". for pinky promising to spend the summer together. for joining me in a messy family dinner. for confiding in me. for reminding me that yes, in fact, rule of life #8 is true: all roads lead to where you need to be.

Pepito, the Spanish Ambassador's son

im sitting here reading the best letter ive ever recieved. again. for maybe the 80th time. "...or i could talk about nothing. because we are close now, arent we. close enough that nothing might mean so much more than a something i try to write down"
the author of this letter has seen me at my best and my worst. and my smartest and my dumbest. my most "what the hell was she thinking?!" and my most "good call!!" the author of this letter is still one of my closest friends.

recently, my life has been turning into the cliched garden state soundtrack and i just want to curl up and watch a movie and, yes, all i want to do is read the perks of being a wallflower. because for the first time in almost ever, i feel like one. its weird. this gigantic organization has chosen me because im good at meeting people and including people and understanding people and being inspired by people. and yet, almost at the exact same time, a tiny school is wrecking my confidence in every aforementioned aspect.

i tried to explain this to someone who, despite our best efforts, is becoming a pretty important person to me lately. "welcome to life" he said, "it sucks."

well the truth is, i dont want it to suck! i want to live in my own tiny universe of awe-inspiring people who make me laugh and write me letters that are so full of honesty and feeling that i want to cry! and i dont just want to sit in on my bed and read all of the funny things that we used to say, i want to go back and say them! i dont want to hear about my dad meeting one of my favorite musicians, i want to go to columbus with jack and see him perform! and i dont want it to be cold and dark out, i want to lay on the sand and be so overwhelmed by the sun that the only logical option is to throw myself into the waves! i want to run through the halls of my fucking high school! and yes, over-played as it may be, i sure as hell want to scream at the top of my lungs!

this, ladies and gentleman, is what i like to call restlessness. the overwhelming sense that i have to be somewhere else, anywhere else. the voice inside of my head telling me to do something, anything, to change the situation that i'm in. towards the end of high school, i grew so resentful of the fact that i would count down to things, that i would always wish that time went faster. and yet, i see myself doing the same thing here and now.

i dont have a cute, witty way to wrap this up, except to say that maybe we all have to get to a breaking point to make a break from our every day lives (i.e. thanksgiving break next week) really mean something.

the things im thankful for, a week early.

for a new friend that keeps me in check and laughs with me when other people take themselves too seriously
for only seven more physics classes ever in my entire life
for a situation that i didnt think would work out well that's working out quite nicely so far
for knowing every line to one of my favorite movies, and for having a friend who doesnt mind me reciting them during her first time watching it
for more-icy-than-creamy ice cream in the caf
for a brother who reminds me why life is fun
for real falafel and elite chocolate and jerusalem stone in less than two months
for chuck klosterman writing a new book
for the friend who visits even when the situation is a little awkward
for a new weekend hang out spot
for not actually being allergic to sunlight and citrus fruit
for songs that remind me of people who make me happy
for having the opportunity to plan events at a zoo
for a sister who gets to experience them
for Florida's Natural Au'some Fruit Juice Nuggets
for Jim from the office
for feeling accomplished
for being able to see the sunset through the window of my favorite class
for having a really long list of things im thankful for

wes anderson and i should be friends

"I love the way this country smells. I'll never forget it. It's kind of spicy."

last night, as i sat in the theater with my donkey-voiced friend, laughing and almost crying at the bittersweetness of the movie, no not movie, artwork that is The Darjeeling Limited, i realized that i was going back to israel.
sure, i was sent the ticket a few days ago...found out that i was going a few weeks before that. but yesterday, i realized.
for me, unlike most of my religious-minded friends, this isnt a spiritual journey. well in my own way, actually, maybe it is. the sun-soaked nostalgia that has been my existance since i left last june will come to life once again. but what i mean is that the infinity that i felt last time i was there...the people i was with when we went to the kotel, not the kotel itself, is what i'm inspired by. in that sense, i'm a little nervous. how can i expect this trip to possibly match the pure bliss that, at least in retrospect, i experienced last time? how can i arrive back at tzuba without sharing a bus seat with various ghosts of best friends past? how can i compare the trips? how cant i?
but then i take a deep breath. i remember where i was this weekend last month. i have nothing to worry about.