One foot in sea one on shore

One foot in sea one on shore

What I do when I'm at home and I feel like this:  cut things out of magazines and make a mess on my bedroom floor; watch "The Notebook"; squeeze myself into small spaces and turn up Bon Iver really loud; blog even though I know I shouldn't.  When I'm sitting in a room with lots of windows and it's dark outside and I can't be bothered to close the shades, I wonder if there are people out there watching me, because during the day when I'm in rooms with lots of windows and it's light inside and outside, I look outside and I watch people walk by and boys juggle things that could be on fire but aren't and thank god.  Right now I feel like it's suddenly dawned on me that the walls here are almost literally made of cardboard and that means that when I'm standing in the hallway I can hear people talking in their rooms, and when I'm sitting in the common room and people leave their rooms and go to the bathroom, I can play this game with myself where I try to guess who's emerged from their own cardboard box, which is silly because I rarely find out the answers.

Things that make me cringe:  when people use internetisms in real-life conversations ("do want!" "ftw!" etc.); girls who don't shave their legs; pigeon pose in yoga class; how cold I am right now.  Last night after I turned my light off and my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I looked at the two shelves above my dresser and thought about how comforting it is to have a shelf full of books, even though they're not my favorites and most of them I'm sure I'll hate and I thought we were done with ancient Greece but we're moving back to it at the end of next week and I guess the way this works is that we're never really done with anything.  That's hard to get used to.