Just. Too many things. Since the glorious fiasco that was my spring break, I have done the following things that I feel compelled to write about:
- attended the Friends, Bitches, Countrymen panel on contemporary feminist poetics that blew my mind
- shaved approximately 1/4th of my head
- helped throw a 90’s themed birthday party with my best friend to celebrate her 29th year of existence
- rented a house in Palm Springs with my best LA girls for Dinah Shore weekend
- was visited by my Tiny Brother
- celebrated my badass friend/yoga instructor’s 30th birthday with an amazing night at Chateau Marmont
- had a weekend visit from my parents that included breakfast at Donut Friend in Highland Park, a trip to my secret beach in Malibu, a visit to my retired couple from airplane’s house so they could finally meet my mom, dinner at Stella, the LA Times Festival of Books on the USC campus, a fancy conference dinner we attended with my dad, and two brunches at KTCHN in DTLA
- settled on the final formation of my exam committee
- accepted a job teaching literature to USC honors students through Thematic Option
I can’t write about all of these or post every photo of every single one of these adventures, but I’ll just say that this has been the busiest month of my life. Half of me is so exhausted I don’t even know what’s going on. The other half of me is overwhelmed with excitement and gratitude.
I’m getting dizzy even as I write this. I would say I’m looking forward to some calming relaxation after the semester ends in two weeks, but three days after the end of the semester, I’m headed to Israel for two weeks and NYC for a week. I tell people that I try and strike a balance between doing and not doing, but I think I’m a bit addicted to doing. I always want to go places to take photos, I want to learn everything there is to know about Los Angeles since I don’t know how long I’ll be lucky enough to live here, I want to say yes to every event because I feel like I’m constantly meeting amazing new people and learning new things. But my body is yelling at me to take a break.
Between the world that is my neighborhood, my city, my school, my friends, my family, all the places available for adventures, and the world of the internet with all its art and articles and information and possibility, I feel like my entire life is a candy shop, and I am endlessly a kid vacillating between sugar rush and sugar crash. Fortunately I still manage to sleep between 8 and 11 hours every night, but when I’m not sleeping, I don’t really know how to turn off. Even things designed to get one to turn off, like yoga or showers, feel more like an adventure. When I made the decision a few years ago to appreciate and celebrate every small aspect of every day of my life, I didn’t realize I’d be turning moments that should otherwise be relaxing into active moments of celebration. And I’m not complaining. But I think maybe I need to make some version of my Malta trip a yearly habit so I can always, at least for 10 or so days, step outside myself, outside my life, and be bored, and be quiet, and be still.