FutureMe.org.

I occasionally send my future self emails. This is one I got today, from end-of-sophomore-year me:

Hi,

Life is a series of sadnesses.
True or false? Why always emotionally true?

Melancholy sneaks up at endings, transitions, destabilizations and uprootings.

Who are you? Are you still scared of being yourself? Are you nervous about the future? Are there prospects?

Learned this year: relationships involve more sacrifice than you knew; people are more difficult than you expected; school is not everything but the rest of it matters more than you understood before.

Forgot this year: selfhood, independence, solitude.

Summer: fully recover from relationship; read and write and fully involve self in literature; understand self-development.

For happiness, perhaps try to really know the importance of the things you care about. Stop being fickle. Stop being easily infatuated. Be level-headed. Avoid panicking.

Most importantly (and the thought that weighs most heavily right now) -- be over this last mistake, completely. Over it. Not even doubtful of any of it. It's not enough to be able to rationalize happiness. Coming to peace must be instinctive, must be earned.

Best friends: A and B and C. Has this changed? Hm.

Hope you're doing well. If not, things will get better. I promise.

Ever more so,
Me

Looking back, I think I was dead-on with this summer. And I should take my own advice: No rashness. Make decisions carefully.

I'm very ready for this year to be amazing.

Note to self.

Drunk me talks too much. Must learn to control nosy questions. Oh, hi. What are some really intrusive questions I could ask you, while we're sitting here buzzed?

"Have you listened to Radiohead ennui-ed?"

What I heard, not what was said.

What I found in Microsoft Word this morning:

IF I focus too much then I think that I’m normal. But it’s like I’ve been asleep. Asleep forever. And ever. And it’s a memory but it’s a dream. But it’s actually 60% dream until I realize it’s 100% memory. A real moment that I should ctrl+s as a MOMENT FROM MY FINITE LIFE.

I'll leave the rest up to your -- or my -- imagination.

I am filthy. And happy.

Actually, I was filthy ten minutes ago. Now that I've washed the smell of Lollapalooza (a pungent mix of sunscreen, sweat, and marijuana) out of my hair, I'm not much less satisfied. A little more tired, maybe. And a little sore.

But worth it. So, so worth it. Performances in order of awesomeness:

1) Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes: performed on a minor stage and literally packed the entire grassy area around it. People were climbing in trees to get a better view. Such good energy. And NPR was right -- they're much better live than recorded. Must see again.
2) Phoenix: I wasn't a big fan until today. But wow. I was tired and dehydrated and dizzy from the pot smoke around me, and they still blew me away. Now must listen to "1901" for the rest of my life.
3) The xx: I saw them at Cat's Cradle last spring. Not quite the same vibe in broad daylight, but still contagious and supersensual.
4) Metric: Not much to say. A lot of hair-flailing.
5) Spoon: I'm not their biggest fan. But performance was on point. And gotta love the brass section.
6) Stars: A friend told me that Stars live is a disappointment, and I . . . can't not agree. Amy Millan was onstage in a shiny black dress and heels at least a decade too young for her. And it's just strange to hear her rhyming "ecstasy" and "sex with me" (to steal Pitchfork's observation) alongside a blue-violet-reflective-sunglasses-donning Torq Campbell.
7) Grizzly Bear: Okay, I know these guys can harmonize the shit out of everything, but they were really low-energy. And not interesting. And boring.

I need to make music festivals a habit. Actually, I need to make this summer a habit. Need to reflect on this more. Will be back when it's not 4:00 a.m. EST.

Chicago.

In a friend's room waiting for her to get back from Linear Algebra. Last night we randomly found a friend of a friend's small gathering and got there in time to see him break two wine glasses within an hour of each other. Then ran around looking at apartment renovations, heard everyone discuss Durkheim (more like Jerkheim, apparently) and complain about how many times they'd read Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics for their Core classes.

Really, really cool to see U of Chicago students going off on random professors and classes, knowing that if we were at Duke we'd do the same. Also made me 2% want to go to school here, but it's definitely a passing thought. More so maybe just made me miss everyone from school more and want late August to get here sooner? (Of course, I'd like school to start without classes starting -- ideal situation #1.)

Sometimes I think that I wouldn't even need to do anything with my life -- I could just wander around and observe other people living out their existences, maybe partake for a day or two before moving on. Maybe I could couchsurf forever. Probably not a sustainable idea. But I do so love a good adventure.

A person I generally despise always says she likes to do things for the story she can later tell (and she tends to tell these stories repeatedly and continuously, with or without your permission). I hate to say that I'm like her, but -- yeah, it's kind of like that.

It's official.

I love Fridays. Lawless, lax. The rest of the week I think I should pretend to be productive, but Friday is beyond saving.

Moments:
1) Having dodged that bullet.
2) Two words: Retail. Therapy.
3) Bananas: the never-ending inside joke.
4) Road rage.
5) Packing up an apartment in 24 hours. Go.
6) Applying How I Met Your Mother to every angle of life.
7) Living in a sitcom.
8) Tipsy-apartment-cleaning.
9) Driving into the Duke forest at 2 a.m. and forgetting a flashlight and turning back.
10) Settling next to the Chapel, taking auto-timed pictures, listening to slam poetry, dreaming of school school school, being existentially and undeniably alive.
11) Right now.
12) "We're having a bondage moment right now."
13) Everyone. Everything. Ever.