I’m having a hard time coming up with blog content. Right now it feels like I’m standing on the train platform, the planning part of my trip is over, I’m accepted at a school, and I have an apartment lined up, but it isn’t time to go yet, so I’m all at sixes and sevens. It really struck me last night that I’m moving soon, my days in Buffalo are numbered, but my mandolin lessons are single-digit numbered, and it made me sad. I’ve loved taking music lessons, and even though we’ve talked about Skype lessons, my instructor and I both know that isn’t going to actually happen, and when I move I’ll be on my own musically, at least for a little while. I’ll need to practice and learn new songs independently, and that’s going to take more discipline and effort. I need to learn to read music, and I’ve been kicking myself for not making that more of a priority when I had the time. As my gap year comes to a close I keep thinking about all the stuff I should have done, but I think I used my time pretty well. I didn’t achieve a lot of my Buffalo Bucket List items, but I did a bunch of other stuff, and I feel good about the stuff I did accomplish.
Speaking of accomplishing stuff, I totally wasted a lot of time on Pottermore yesterday. A lot a lot. We don’t need to go into numbers, but if we did, they would represent hours and not minutes. It’s good stuff, but I was sorted into stinky old Gryffindor, when my whole Harry Potter-reading life I’ve known I was meant to be in Hufflepuff. I know it’s just a silly little quiz, and the internet is full of Wht Huose R U In? quizzes, but this one came out of J.K. Rowling’s brain! She invented the Sorting Hat, she clearly knows what she’s talking about, and she says I belong in Gryffindor, so there’s no escaping it. All those times I drank tea and hot chocolate out of my Hufflepuff mug feel like a lie. It’s very sad, especially because Hopkins colors are black and yellow, just like Hufflepuff. Lions are cool though (my friend insists that if I was an animal I would be a lion, even though I feel more like an elephant or a bear because I clearly don’t know myself at all), and I love my red and gold nail polish, so it could be worse, but it does bother me. I’m much more earth than fire.
Only eleven states have official dogs, but every state has a bird. It just seems wrong. Who are all these bird-lovers, and why are they so much better-organized than dog people? Fortunately, Maryland has both, with the state dog being a Chesapeake Bay Retriever, and the bird a Baltimore Oriole. New York State needs to get on the ball though- how about a pug? They’re good for city-dwellers, they’re stylish, and “pug” is fun to say. Or, if you want to go in a less overbred direction, there’s the flat-coated retriever, sleek, sporty, and obscure, to appeal to all those New York hipsters. Or you could take the boring but good person-y route and go with “rescue dog” as the official “breed”.
One of my high school classmates posted on Facebook that she just celebrated her six-year anniversary with her fiancée. Six years, is so many years! I know they’re engaged, so it makes sense that they should really get to know each other first, but yikes. My longest relationship was…much less than that. It made me start to think about considering opening myself up to the possibility of dating instead of being a hermit and rejecting human contact because I might at some point want to make life-changing decisions that would require moving across the country/world and I don’t want to just get all involved and then break up. Maybe. The problem is, and I say this without any malice towards anyone I’ve dated/been involved with, but I expect to live for another…sixty-plus years (I have all four grandparents still, so the odds are pretty good I’ll last a long time too), and I haven’t liked anyone that much that I’d want to be with the that long. I’m having some tiny twinges though, as a sort of precurser to the whole Tony-from-West-Side-Story-waking-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night-reaching-out-for-something (cuz that worked out really well). Moving to a new city, starting a new program, I want to be open to new relationships, and that little voice in the back of my head telling me that I’m only committed to a year in Baltimore, and who knows where I’ll go after that can just shut up.