Monday, March 25, 2013


I remember a high school teach telling me in my junior or senior year that I would stop liking snow when I went off to college and it became a hassle rather than an excuse to skip school and play. Perhaps it's because my university tends to be pretty liberal about dolling out snow days, but I still enjoy it. I don't have the same desire to run about outside and play in it that I used to, but that is mostly due to a lack of appropriate clothing at school. My appreciation of snow is now from afar, glancing out the window, or more likely staring for a long time. Snow makes everything inside cozier, I assume because of the juxtaposition of temperature. Sitting inside during the snow with a mug of hot cocoa or tea and being curled up under a blanket, makes you unbelievably appreciative that you aren't braving the weather outside.

It's ironic that I post about snow on this day, when, for the first time, we actually have a few inches of snow, and yet, the university texted everyone saying, "All classes at activities will be held at regularly scheduled time." They are taking away the magic of snow. The magic that is tilling inside, looking out. The feeling that the outside world is very isolating, very quiet, and that you have this enclave, wrapped up in your blanket, of warmth and happiness, and hope.

Thursday, March 21, 2013

Et je vais essayer de vous fixer.

My boyfriend once said to me, "Well, you do seem to attract broken people." I laughed and said, "So does that mean you're broken?" He shrugged.

My entire childhood, as soon as I got upset about anything, my mom would start listing solutions. This, frankly, annoyed me. I just wanted to be allowed to upset for a while; rarely do I want things to be fixed, rarely do I need them to be fixed. But, she wanted to fix things...and I'm starting to realize I inherited it.

If the last seven months have taught me something, it's that there is a time to be quiet: a time to not open your mouth because getting the last word in matters a lot less than not going to bed angry, a time to quietly listen because you don't know the solutions. I have learned that I am really bad at watching people fall apart, even though in those moments I often feel the closest too them. I, like my mother, want to be able to fix things, and, when possible, will quietly fix everything I can. I will wake up and make coffee or help you time manage if that will make your day better, because there are some things that I cannot fix, that cannot be fixed. I can't make a parent love you, or take away all the scary things that have happened to you. Those are moments for silence, not solutions.

He's right. I do attract broken people, but, get real, who isn't a little bit broken.