Mes Belles Lettres

I heard horror stories about the Vermont winters when I first got here. "You won't be able to see this fence by April." "When you look out the window during class all you'll see is a wall of snow." "The ice storms look cool but the roads can be scary." "Last year some people's power went out for three weeks after an ice storm!" "If you don't have steel studded tires, you will die." "It threw my car out of alignment." "We tried to go for a walk, but it was negative 20 degrees outside!" Snow came late, but when it hit during finals week last semester I thought that was it, my life was over. This winter, however, has been a mild one.Just south of here in Boston, D.C., and PA they have been getting slammed, but its been mild, and kind of dreary here. It rarely snows, it usually rains, and when it does snow, it doesn't stick for long. Today, Vermont and the snow gods fought back. They simply decide...

Not a big fan of Rent- I find it a cheap knock off of a beautiful opera. Not a big fan of Valentine's Day- something about it has never sat right with me. Sure, do something special with the one you love, and as long as that "something special" doesn't include a question, a ring, and calling the parents with the exciting news I think I'll be alright with it. I AM an ENORMOUS fan of Stevie Wonder. Seriously, the man is a musical genius.  Also a fan of the song Seasons of Love. Always have been. Partially because of this version with Stevie, but because I like the idea that the years of our lives are always measured in love. So, I guess, in the spirit of the day of love, I have a question: 525,600 minutes, how do you measure your  life in love? I think about meals eaten together, phone conversations, late night talks, hair dying parties. Listening to someone's woes, and having them do the same for me. Forgiving in an argument or a comment taken the wro...

So, I realized that of all my family members, the only one I've ever really said anything about on my blog here is my sister Alicia. I feel this situation must be rectified. This year, they're all getting a special birthday tribute. Starting today, with the youngest. Jacob. I can still remember the day my mom brought Jacob home from the hospital. I mean I was thirteen so its not like it was that hard, but still. He was so cute and fat, although I was a little bugged that he weighed half an ounce less than I did when I was born, branding me as the fattest baby in our family. Jacob has always been a little withdrawn. My mom used to say that he was supposed to come before Madalynn, but he was too afraid, so she went ahead and came down before him to pave the way. Of course this makes no sense, but it describes their relationship to each other so well. Madalynn, the leader, Jacob, the faithful, but wise, follower. He is also very methodical. In kindergarten he'd alw...

Here is Part II of the story I'm writing about my sister. Read Part I here.   She got up and looked around, but there were only flower covered fields as far as the eye could see. “I could certainly use some silver shoes right now,” she thought to herself. She didn’t want to spend endless days walking in the wrong direction if there happened to be a town in another. She saw a stand of trees not too far off and decided to climb one and see if she could see anything from her high perch. Fifteen minutes later she was making her way back down to the ground muttering, “well that was a waste of time,” when, looking down, she saw a set of footprints that were not her own, heading off in the opposite direction from the way she came. Having no other options, she shrugged and followed the footsteps deeper into the trees. Suddenly, from one of the trees she heard a yell and there was a creature leaping toward her. Alicia yelled in fright and deployed the only defense mechanism she knew, what...

Yes, this sign really is at an educational facility. I did a double take when I read it. Can you catch it?

My blog is funny to me because for some reason I feel so much safer half sharing intimate details about myself here than I do anywhere else. This is probably incredibly annoying to some of you. I do prefer this method of communication because if I ever feel the need to say something emotionally close to me I can do it knowing that if you don't want to read it you can click elsewhere, or say out loud, "Lindsey, you're being awkward again," and I don't have to hear it. Sometimes I tell myself that I don't care if anyone even comments. Although that is a lie. I get sad when nobody comments. I love hearing what you have to say. I was just thinking about how weird life is and how I have major trust issues, and yet, for some reason, I can come to this safe spot and spill my guts with little thought of retribution. Okay, that is a lie, I still worry a lot about what I post, but more often than not I find the courage to hit the publish post button and not look b...

School starts again tomorrow and grades were posted today. Grades are always my worst nightmare, seriously, nightmares of failing fill my nights. I know the only way to make them go away is to look, but I never want to. I did anyway. My GPA is within the "recommended GPA for first semester." Which is good I suppose. I don't know my ranking yet. I won't know that until the end of the month. Transferring may not be an option, but I think I'll try anyway, because you never know. Maybe they just want someone to show moxie. Or spunk. Whatev. I have to go read for Civil Procedure and Criminal Law now. The good times man, they just never end. I feel weird. Law school makes you feel weird because you put all of this effort into it, and your grades aren't necessarily meritorious. Like I honestly feel like I put forth an A effort. But some teachers just don't give out 'A's. So there you go. I mean its fine I guess, I really didn't come anywhere near f...