So many locks, not enough keys.

"The truth is, nothing is guaranteed, so don't be afraid. Be alive."


They wouldn’t say “Father of two meets world leaders today”
They’d say “President Obama meets world leaders today”.
They wouldn’t say “Father of three founds one of the most successful modern computer businesses.”
They’d say “Bill Gates founds one of the most successful modern computer businesses.”
Get your shit right and use women’s names, not the number of kids they have.




They wouldn’t say “Father of two meets world leaders today”

They’d say “President Obama meets world leaders today”.

They wouldn’t say “Father of three founds one of the most successful modern computer businesses.”

They’d say “Bill Gates founds one of the most successful modern computer businesses.”

Get your shit right and use women’s names, not the number of kids they have.


(Source: brooklynmutt, via authorsarahdessen)

  1. If you like someone, wait.
  2. Give lots of compliments, even if you’re shy. Everyone else is too.
  3. Change. Get a haircut, try new perfume, get new sheets. Become better than you were before.
  4. Eat healthier. Learn to cook something fancy.
  5. Get up earlier and watch the sun come up.
  6. Wear soft clothes, take a bath, drink something warm.
  7. Meet someone new, even just a friend.
  8. Become closer with your friends and your family. Call your mother. Cry with your best friend. Tell everyone how much you appreciate them.
  9. Keep your room clean. Buy some candles. Let the natural light in.
  10. Make a list of reasons why you’ll be better off without them. Believe they are true, because they are.
  11. Listen to new music.
  12. Write everything you’re thinking and feeling. Write letters. Write happy letters, sad letters, and angry letters, even if you’re never going to send them.
  13. It’s okay to be sad, but not forever. Sadness is not as beautiful as music makes it seem. Lack of sleep makes your eyes droopy, not deep. Wake up every morning and tell yourself you’re going to have a good day.
  14. Go to the library. Don’t forget to look in the music section.
  15. Remove them from your life. Get rid of the things they gave you if they make you sad. They’re not worth it. You will never be happy if you continue to hold on to the things that make you sad.
  16. Make new memories.
  17. Try to find something to appreciate in everything you do or experience.
  18. Being alone is okay, you don’t have to surround yourself with people.
  19. Become your own best friend. Buy yourself coffee and drink it alone in a cafe. Take your time.
  20. Learn to love every bit of yourself.

—How to feel better and become better by me (x)

(via itmeans-no-worries)


Okay… I’m a sucker. I’ll give this New Year thing one last chance.


(Source: hanitjemars)

All This Time I Was Finding Myself

So I made it to Venice.  And you know what? I was less than enchanted.  The city was beautiful.  The canals were amazing.  The concept was fascinating.  But it wasn’t how I imagined it to be.  I cannot pinpoint the exact way in which the Venice of reality differed from the Venice of my “Thief Lord” dreams, but it did.  This is not to say that I was entirely disappointed, however the experience was missing the magic I had expected. But is the experience of study abroad ever about the expected?  Is the magic ever in the extraordinary? Do you find yourself while riding in a gondola or at the Trevi Fountain or on a beach in Spain?

The answer to all of these is no.  

As for expectations, at this point I cannot even remember what I expected upon boarding my plane to Italy, other than an adventure.  But I can say that my life here has certainly gone above and beyond anything I could have thought it would be.  

Over the course of the past three months I’ve travelled to many places, both in and out of Italy, from Cinque Terre to Vienna and everything in between.  I’ve seen things I’ve dreamt about seeing for my entire life.  It has been extraordinary.  But that isn’t where I found the magic.  The most magical night of my experience thus far was not in Rome or Paris or Florence.  It was in my little home city of Parma.  It was not a night filled with clubs or bars or any sort of notable adventures.  It was simply the first night we had our bicycles.  Riding during the day had been one thing, but that night, as we rode to one of the other apartment buildings from our home on the west side of the city, there was a sense of joy and freedom I hadn’t experienced yet.  We arrived at our destination, but we didn’t - we couldn’t - stop there.  Wordlessly we continued to the park down the street and rode faster and faster with no cars or people to stop us - around and around, laughing and pedaling until we were tired and breathless. There is nothing more ordinary than riding a bike.  But in that moment, it was magical.  

Similarly, many people go abroad to see the world and “find themselves.”  I used to think that was a bit cliche but over the course of the semester my way of thinking has changed.  The concept isn’t as instantaneous as the verb “find” implies.  It is a process so gradual that you don’t realize it is happening.  It is something that can only be realized in retrospect.  You look back and think: I’m not the same as I was before, I am more me than I have ever been.   

We didn’t find ourselves while watching the sun set from the Eiffel Tower.  Or listening to Christmas music and drinking punsch at the Austrian Christmas Markets.  Or spending a night drinking wine on the Spanish Steps in Rome.   We found ourselves in the little things.  In sitting around the dinner table drinking Lambrusco for hours, just being together.  In Monday night bowling.  In sleeping on each other on trains.  And planes.  And buses.  In riding our bikes in the rain, just trying to make it to class alive, let alone on time.  In not having ovens.  Or dryers.  Or microwaves.  In sunrises.  

The bottom line?  We found ourselves in Parma, but mostly in each other - people we’ve gone to school with for two years.  Yet it couldn’t have happened in Boston.  There is an irreplicable bond in the memories made.  In the things as simple as getting lost.  And cooking dinner together.  And eating Nutella late at night.  

Maybe this comes from the happiness.  Or the experiences shared.  But for so many of us it is there and there are even concerns that we won’t fit into the lives we left behind.  We have changed, and it is as simple as that. 

So the reason I went abroad ended up not living up to my ten-year-old expectations.  Venice was not my favorite.  But I found so many other reasons that make me never want to leave.  We have 15 days left in the best three months of our lives and I know we’ll make them count.  We’ll laugh and cry and eat more than we should.  We’ll ride or die and never look back.  And when we finally return home to the States, we’ll do so beyond exhausted but also beyond happy.  And we’ll be okay molding to the life we left behind, because we’ll still have each other - a new 30 person family that I wouldn’t trade for all of the magic in Venice.  

Viva Italia

Things I never posted but should have: 

“I’m so excited!”  For the past few months these words have crossed my lips more than I could have ever imagined.  It has been my default response to any and every conversation about my impending trip across the Atlantic.  It was something I could say to everyone and it seemed to please them all.  Of course I was excited, they were excited for me, but “excited” doesn’t really begin to cover it.  I’m exhilarated and nervous and ecstatic and terrified all rolled into one.  It’s so strange to be leaving my BC family for an entire semester.  But I’m ready.  Ready and excited to live out some dreams. 

You see, ten years ago I received Cornelia Funke’s “The Thief Lord” as a Christmas present from my aunt.  After I read it once, I proceeded to read it about six more times.  As a result, at ten years old, I decided that I was going to learn Italian and I was going to go to Italy. 

While the Italian language is still very much a work in progress, the second part of my resolution has very much become a reality.  In a few short hours I will be boarding a plan to Milan, Italy.  Once there I will take a train to Florence to study art history for three weeks and then a bus to Parma to spend the semester as a student at the University of Parma.  While I won’t be staying in Prosper and Bo’s world among the canals of Venice, I know I’ll get there eventually and have all sorts of adventures along the way. 

I used to live by advice given to me in 7th grade: Writers write what they know.  While I don’t necessarily consider myself a writer just yet, more and more so lately I have come around to the school of thinking that it is infinitely more satisfying to write beyond what you know.  So I’m going to Italy, going beyond what I know, and I’m going to write about it.  Here, in a journal given to me by one of my best friend’s mothers, in emails to my friends, it depends what strikes my fancy on a given day.  I can’t promise that this will be updated regularly.  I can’t promise that you’ll find it interesting.  I can’t promise that it will make sense.  I’m writing for me, but you’re more than welcome to come along for the ride.  


The Arte Sella, looks to be one of the most magical, fairytale woodlands in the world. Since 1986 this astounding destination in the Sella Valley in Italy has been dotting the landscape with the amazing works of over 200 contemporary artists from all over the world. A future holiday destination for sure!

I have to go here.

(via inkundermynails)






John Green: What To Do With Your Life (x)

17,000 notes? That’s insane.

(I just imagined a world in which tumblr reblogs could be exchanged for the weird circular baby cheese that Henry eats every day, and then I would have like a lifetime supply of that surprisingly expensive baby cheese. BUT NO.)

babybell. thats what you just described.

Ok but that was John Green

John Green doesn’t know the name of the cheese he buys

no but what is most amazing is that we are reblogging a gifset of John Green saying this really inspirational stuff and then he actually goes and reblogs this post to talk about baby cheeses

(Source: roseytyler, via a-few-0f-my-favorite-things)

Writers are too neurotic to ever be happy. - Connie Willis

(via writingquotes)

One of the rare things I disagree with the brilliant Connie Willis on, though I do take her point.

(via gwendabond)

I don’t know. Maybe it’s true! I hope not, though. I was on the phone to a writer friend, and we were talking about goals, and I said I wanted to be happy, and I felt startled and a little awed by the idea.

(via sarahreesbrennan)

It was me! I was the writer friend she was on the phone with. “Happy?” I believe I said, as though I’d misheard her. “I didn’t know you wanted to be happy.”

(via hollyblack)

When I was in my early 20s and drowning in pretension, I remember my girlfriend at the time asking me why I didn’t even seem to WANT to be happy, and I told her that I didn’t find happiness a compelling goal for life.

I’m still not really motivated by a desire to be happy, and I may well be too neurotic ever to be happy. But I have come to believe now that happy is one of the most noble and heroic things that people can be. I undervalued happiness because I associated it with simplicity and inattention. In fact, I suspect that happiness almost always results from being both attentive and accepting. 

Maybe that is what writers as a rule cannot do? I don’t know. I can be accepting until I have to be attentive, and I can be attentive until I have to be accepting, but when asked to do both, I always retreat into fiction, where I make the damned rules.

(via fishingboatproceeds)

(via fishingboatproceeds)