thursday

Of my silence, I don't have much to say. I've been busy baking, cutting intricate paper snowflakes, nursing every day malaise, and watching what feels like thousands of movies in bed. I am thankful for all sorts of things: my beautiful family and friends (who else sends you fresh flowers from far away and leaves you treats from the farmers market when you're having the mean reds?), James Brown's Christmas album, tomato bisque soup, peppermint Joe's O's, waking up to find I got a job at a library in Paris (I was convinced I wouldn't get it), being able to study in Paris in the spring, public transportation, warm woolen mittens, and walking home last night from supper with friends singing "My Favorite Things" charmingly off-key. The past fortnight has been a sleepless difficult blur, yet in many ways I am glad for the madness. In between papers, research proposals, and simply too much research in general, there has still been time for slumber parties, vegan cinnamon chocolate cakes, Timber Timbre, Dixieland jazz, and bundling up with tea and Chinatown dumplings to swoon over Benjamin Braddock.