My heart is dancin to a November tune.

"November comes
And November goes,
With the last red berries
And the first white snows.

With night coming early,
And dawn coming late,
And ice in the bucket
And frost by the gate.

The fires burn
And the kettles sing,
And earth sinks to rest
Until next spring."
-  Elizabeth Coatsworth

I just really really love this month. On the cusp of winter, drawing a graceful close to fall.

I'm killing myself thinking I've fallen like the leaves.

No season can contain it.

Thanksgiving. I have this theory that all of the holidays can be represented by one of each of the seven deadly sins, thanksgiving especially. But at least it's my favorite deadly sin, gluttony. And by the way that I have spent my thanksgiving break, this holiday can also be portrayed by deadly sin number four, sloth. Literally, I have done nothing this week besides knit, read, and watch Christmas movies. And today is no exception; I'm just going to add about ten pounds of food into the gluttonous mix.

This break has been an incredible breath of fresh air. After the single most difficult week in my academic career thus far, (seven papers, three tests, two powerpoints, and a partridge in a pear tree). I skipped my last class on Friday and sped on home to be reunited with my family and friends, for whom I am so thankful. I went to my high school's quarter-final football game and cheered them onto victory, just as enthusiastic about their win as I was a year ago. From that point on, my week has been filled with reunions, laughter, crafts, movies, and family.

I am thankful. I am thankful that my transition to college has been less than traumatic, that Christmas break is fast approaching, that I have made new friends, that I have kept old friends. One is silver, and the other is gold.

And I'm thankful for this new store that I've recently uncovered, Ruche. You might have seen my entry from a few days ago with their winter lookbook. My dream has never been to be a housewife, but this gorgeous home decor is causing me to have second thoughts.

And of course, I am thankful for Sara Bareilles's new Christmas song, Love Is Christmas. While it's a December tune, it sings of gratefulness and beauty and all of the lovely things one expects from Sara. Love is not a toy, and no paper can conceal it.

Goodnight, friends. I'm so thankful for you all.

This is where it all begins. Everything starts here, today.

I just finished what has the potential to be one of the greatest books I have ever read. I did something that I don't usually do with this book: I saw the movie before reading the novel. I saw the movie because I love Anne Hathaway and Jim Sturgess, but I read the book because the movie really affected me.

There are few books that can still be enjoyed after seeing the movie beforehand. There are few books that contain both literary value and a compelling plot. There are few books that can tear you apart at the climax, yet fill you with so much satisfaction at its close. There are few books that you simply refuse to put down because you can hardly contain yourself from finishing, yet you still feel sad when you finally turn that final page. One Day by David Nicholls is one such book.

This book reminded me of why I am an English major; why I study literature and not medicine or pharmacy or engeineering. I am a lover of the written word. I am in love with the smell of coffee and books and Barnes and Noble, with the way words look when I see them on a page, with the way they sound when they roll off my tongue, with the gorgeous arrangement they make when they are strung together into a sentence. Like popcorn on a Christmas tree.

Read this book. See this movie. You won't regret it. 

She began walking again towards the Mound. 'Live each day as if it's your last', that was the conventional advice, but really, who had the energy for that? What if it rained or you felt a bit glandy? It just wasn't practical. Better by far to simply try and be good and courageous and bold and to make a difference. Not to change the world exactly, but the bit around you. Go out there with your passion and your electric typewriter and work hard at... something. Change lives through art maybe. Cherish your friends, stay true to your principles, live passionately and fully and well. Experience new things. Love and be loved in return. 

If you like fashion, nature, boys, girls, christmas, winter, vintage clothing, music, photography, smiling, flannel, coffee...

If you love beauty, watch this video.

45 days.

Y'all. It really is coming. Christmas is fast upon us! Wreaths are hanging from the stoplights in downtown Starkville, practically every student you meet on the Drill field is drinking peppermint mochas out of Starbucks Christmas cups, and the foyer of Chi Omega house is covered from top to bottom with owl ornaments.

And it was 65 degrees outside today.

I understand; I live in Mississippi. Awkward weather is expected this time of year. But, God, come on, for those of us that don't own a pair of zip-off pants, could you make the weather a bit more seasonally appropriate?

In other news...

There are a lot more things coming up besides Christmas. And by a lot of things, I mean four papers, four finals, and two tests. But I also mean an Avett Brothers concert, a weekend with my three best friends, a Brandi Carlile/Indigo Girls concert, a blind date (only time will tell about this one...), and THANKSGIVING!

I'm had a hard time living in the now these days. With so much to look forward to in the near future, how can I focus on my upcoming four papers, four finals, and two tests? But focus I must.

It's hard to live life without counting down. It's much harder to live in the now than people think. We get in these ruts and think, once I graduate high school, I'm going to _______. Once I finish college, I'm going to (travel, get a job, get married, write a book). What have you. That's when my life will start. And we get these little countdowns going, and, in doing so, we wish our lives away. I kept a countdown for about a year before my sixteenth birthday (This countdown, however, is not one that I regret. The year that I was fifteen was potentially the worst one of my life). I've been keeping track of the days til Christmas break since I moved in. And I think it's great to have these countdowns. It's great to have things to look forward to. But, odds are, that some things that we look forward to overshadow the joy that we find in living our life now to the fullest. The future can be crippling. It handicaps us and renders us incapable of fulfilling our daily lives until we can move on to our exciting future selves.


It's time like these that I am reminded of the wise words of Albus Dumbledore:

"It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live. Remember that."

Such a wise man. It really is a shame that he's fictional.

I don't know. Just my thoughts. And my procrastination. Remember those four papers, four finals, and two tests that I told you about? I should be working on that. But it's whatever. I love blogging. And it's been too long since I blessed the internet with my pearls of wisdom.

With all this talk about countdowns, I couldn't resist. You know you loved it. And you think she's hot. And you want to be her. You know it.

And her baby bump makes me so so happy.

All other ground is sinking sand.

Once upon a time there was a girl. This girl was seventeen years old and a senior in high school. Her weekly schedule consisted of attending her prestigious private school (dressed from head-to-toe in her wannabe hipster Urban Outfitters attire) from about eight-oh-five am (she was always a few minutes late, but her economics teacher never seemed to care) til about three o'clock (school ended at two-forty, but she would almost always spend at least ten or fifteen minutes in the parking lot with her friends, catching up on each other's days). This girl would then drive her sister home, but not until after they had stopped by McAlister's Deli, the not-so-hot spot in Birmingham, Al, for sweet tea and chocolate chip cookies. This girl would then study for a couple hours, run, and then head right back up to the school for rehearsal for whatever play the drama department was currently perfecting, and in which she was always the star. Her weekends were filled with sleepovers, football games, catching predators, and trips to Doodles, which was the slightly hotter hangout for Bham high schoolers.

Then this girl turned eighteen and went to college.

This girl was not naive. She had known that college would be hard. She had foreseen the difficulties of saying goodbye to her best friends of twelve years, of giving up her private school fairytale lifestyle, of wearing tshirts and shorts to class instead of skirts and heels, of stepping down from the Barbara B Barker stage and relinquishing the spotlight to her younger friends. But she hadn't realized that her worth came from these worthless things.

You can guess where I'm going with this.

This weekend I went home to see my high school's fall musical. I had been looking forward to it all week. I was the biggest drama geek in high school: skipping class to hang out with my friends in the green room, singing duets on the stage "just because," eating all of my meals in the auditorium instead of going home. I loved planning my daily schedule around the times posted on the callboard, of course allotting for time that I would spend after rehearsal hanging out in the parking lot behind the auditorium. I loved the feeling that performing gave me; it was a wonderful, self-glorifying rush, singing on that stage, and nothing else could make me feel that way. Then I went to college, and I began performing on a much larger stage, but in a much smaller way.

This year, I'm not going to rehearsals every night. I'm not performing in shows. I'm not sitting next to my best friends during class who will clap for me when I get a good grade on a test or give me a hug when I don't. I don't have friends to compliment my carefully planned outfits every day because I'm wearing tshirts and nike shorts and Chacos just like every sorority girl on the planet. And instead of eating lunch at the same table with the same girls in the same gym that I've been in since I was twelve, I'm eating at a sorority house with 75 other girls that I still don't know all the names of, even though bid day was almost three months ago.

I'm starting completely from scratch. I'm redefining my life. The foundation that I spent twelve years building...? Not so solid. It crumbled, as it should have. I'm not meant to be in one place forever. No one is.

I've had to redefine my life in college in a big way. And in four years, when I graduate, I'll have to build another life from nothing all over again. And again when I get a job. Or move. Or get married. My life, from this point on, is never going to stop changing.

I've realized recently that maybe, had I not been so wrapped up in these meaningless things, my transition to college would have been much easier. Had I not defined myself by the group of girls that I met with after third period every day, had I not found my identity in the amount of time I spent in the auditorium, had I not placed so much importance on what outfit I was going to wear to school the next day... 

These things were idols. If they hadn't have been, I wouldn't miss them so much. I filled my life with these things that I believed were truly fulfilling. But, the truth is, while these things might be wonderful, they don't last forever. They don't even last nearly as long as we would wish for them to. And that is a difficult pill to swallow. Friends will disappoint you, possessions will turn to dust, and talents will fade away.

But something that never disappoints, disintegrates, or fades, is the love of Christ. Which is why our identity is found in Him and only Him. If we attempt to place our trust or define ourselves in anything else, we'll find ourselves lost and disillusioned the next time we're forced to start over. So, the only option is to lean on Jesus. Everything else... well, it's sinking sand.

"Truly my soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from Him. Truly He is my rock and my salvation; He is my fortress, I will never be shaken." 

Psalm 62:1-2

Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who only dream by night.

-Edgar Allan Poe