Christina! She is moving far away this summer :( Also, Cynthia, but that gives me an excuse to travel and visit her one day :D

ilovedoodle:

Constipation on Flickr.

Doodle Everyday 303
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This made me chuckle.

(via ahhmmmburr)

I wish I’d gone to the Holi celebrations in Singapore :( Missed my chance there, but I guess I could still celebrate here. Maybe also do the Color Run :)

(via cpascoep)

(via cpascoep)

cpascoep:

all I want to do right now…

This is me at 4 in the afternoon being jet-lagged.

seesheflies:

Of course, there are things we wished we did: our readings, that boy across the hall. We’re our own hardest critics and it’s easy to let ourselves down. Sleeping too late. Procrastinating. Cutting corners. More than once I’ve looked back on my High School self and thought: how did I do that? How did I work so hard? Our private insecurities follow us and will always follow us.

But the thing is, we’re all like that. Nobody wakes up when they want to. Nobody did all of their reading (except maybe the crazy people who win the prizes…) We have these impossibly high standards and we’ll probably never live up to our perfect fantasies of our future selves. But I feel like that’s okay.

We’re so young. We’re so young. We’re twenty-two years old. We have so much time. There’s this sentiment I sometimes sense, creeping in our collective conscious as we lay alone after a party, or pack up our books when we give in and go out – that it is somehow too late. That others are somehow ahead. More accomplished, more specialized. More on the path to somehow saving the world, somehow creating or inventing or improving. That it’s too late now to BEGIN a beginning and we must settle for continuance, for commencement.

The young woman who wrote this, Marina Keegan, died on Saturday. This was her last piece for the Yale Daily News. As I perused her other work online (and she was really quite remarkable), I was also struck by this piece from September:

I’m so jealous. Laughable jealousies, jealousies of everyone who might get a chance to speak from the dead. I’ve zoomed out my timeline to include the apocalypse, and, religionless, I worship the potential for my own tangible trace. How presumptuous! To assume specialty in the first place. As I age, I can see the possibilities fade from the fourth-grade displays: it’s too late to be a doctor, to star in a movie, to run for president. There’s a really good chance I’ll never do anything. It’s selfish and self-centered to consider, but it scares me.

RIP.

(via christina-n-weber)

(via christina-n-weber)

(via rystal)

rystal:

one day

1. Moving back to SC and seeing all my friends and Josh

2. Graduating

3. Getting back in shape

4. Road trip with Christina

5. IN-N-OUT and Mexican food