je pense...

I'm feeling a bit melancholy, and it's quiet in my room--I'm afraid that playing the wrong music will throw me into a funk, and I don't particularly enjoy funks. I'm just listening to the rain and cars whizzing by 10 floors below me, and every once in a while, the 'eeks' of drunk girls who have probably stepped in a puddle. Sounds of the city, essentially. I'll miss these sounds when I leave.

I think there are kind-hearted, beautiful people here at NYU. I just don't think I've met many of them. Or, I have, but never got to know them, which is a pity. The people I really got to know, for the most part...I don't know. I don't want to think about it anymore. I'm just being ungrateful, there are plenty of people I know here who are genuinely kind and funny and caring.

I had plans for the night, but they've evaporated, and I think I'm going to go change into my pajamas and read in bed for a bit. Some Colette, perhaps. I've been researching her all day for French anyway, and now I'm in the mood for some of her writing. And plus, I haven't read in bed in ages, and that's my expertise!

Or maybe I should work on my essay, given that if I worked tonight, I would still be behind...but no. I need to relax. And think about summer plans. No, no. Just Colette.

'Is all this,' I asked him, indicating the carefully matched cigarette-case, tie, and handkerchief, 'because of some vow?'
'Oh no,' he answered guilelessly; 'it's very fashionable.'





I was talking to Mike today, and he told me that he thought my breakfast at tiffany's poster said a lot about my character. I love Mike for being the one person who describes my flaws and eccentricities to me so matter of factly. And Stan is usually on the point with that kind of stuff too. I won't elaborate, it's a bit too nuanced but if you study Holly Golightly, you may understand...or not.

I feel oddly centered at the moment, and I know this is fleeting and I want to document it somehow, but how, how, how...