A place with a little bit of everything and a whole lot of nothing.

21, writer, future teacher, nerdfighter, fangirl of Doctor Who, Harry Potter, Castle, New Girl, Chris Pine, Death Cab for Cutie, Florence and the Machine, and an assortment of other things. Pretty pictures are reblogged frequently and the alt-click function for rblogging gets abused so things tend not to get tagged. Sorry, not sorry. Enjoy your stay. Feel free to leave an ask for queries or a conversation.

(Source: theillusivewoman)

Posted on July 24 with 720 notes via almostautumn Reblog

(Source: gentlemaniastore)

Posted on July 24 with 1,639 notes via jennyslate Reblog





call us brutal, sick, sadistic, and grotesquely optimistic
‘cause way down deep inside we’ve got a dream!


I like that they’re all so supportive of one another, but still decide to crack in skulls when they get mad.

Such good friends.

This is like, the opposite of that scene from High School musical where the guy admits he plays the cello

Posted on July 24 with 327,901 notes via spookyclaire Reblog


lucrative tv show idea: clifford the big red dog but instead of a big red dog it’s a colossal blue monster from under the ocean

(I have been busy lately, sorry pals!)

Posted on July 24 with 4,060 notes via beam-me-up-hottie Reblog

[I]t’s okay to be neurotic about books, and it’s okay to be embarrassed by them sometimes, for whatever irrational or not reason you happen to be. Are you an adult and embarrassed by your fervent and ongoing love of Young Adult fiction? I wish you weren’t, but I wish I weren’t too. I understand. You can be embarrassed.

Just…don’t let anyone else do it to you. If anyone else tries to laugh at you or embarrass you, I invite you to whack them with the book they’re sneering at you over, then gather up all your toys and go find other friends and other yards, because these assholes are no good for you.

-from Books I’m Embarrassed to Read in Public by Peter Damien (via bookriot)

Posted on July 5 with 367 notes via bookporn Reblog

To give you some background, I’m currently riding backwards at approximately 300 kilometers per hour on a train to Stuttgart. Out of all of the things I’m most excited about for this trip, this ride is on my top three. The night train home is number two.

I’ve learned that there is something oddly relaxing about a solitary ride across European countryside. Or even a US plane ride to Florida. Either way, I like travelling alone. There are some downsides. My bags feel heavier than I remember packing them and there’s an anxiety knowing my girlfriend has to get herself from the train station we just parted at to Toronto and then to Buffalo by herself, but the time to watch greens and browns pass by accompanied by a gentle rocking is truly relaxing.

Perhaps it’s because this rocking is something I’m slightly used to. When I was a baby my parents had to bounce me up and down to get me to sleep and even now the sometimes gentle rocking of a boat will put me into automatic nap mode; or perhaps it’s the fact that you can’t do anything but think on a train. I don’t have internet access, my phone won’t let me make calls, and my bags are currently behind me. When you’re up in the air there’s nothing but thinking and I’ve already gotten through all the worry. There are plenty of things that can go wrong. I know because I thought about it the night before.  But here, on the train, there is nothing but possibility and whatever way the track turns will be where I must follow (but I know I booked the right ticket, so I’m not really concerned).

There is something I’ve learned from my week in Paris. It’s not something new, but it’s something I need to constantly be reminded of. Things go wrong. Our luggage gets heavier, our headphones break, the painting you want to see in the Louvre is in a closed wing, the shoes you spent way too much money on because they were supposed to be made by the same company as famous sneakers give you blisters so you end up spending more money on sneakers because Parisians wear sneakers and they’re Converse so it’s acceptable. These things happen and there is no physical human way to avoid them.

The only thing we can decide is how these things affect us. We can worry, we can toss and turn because the picture perfect plan that we have in our heads did not go as picture perfectly as we wanted or we can embrace it. There is no such thing as a perfect vacation and I am confident that something will go wrong while in Germany. It’s a still ongoing process to turn this worry and knowledge that something will go wrong into a positive outlook. Where we go wrong can be just as much of a learning experience as what goes right, sometimes more so. The question is: are we going to learn from what we are given or are we going to focus on that picture perfect version in the wing we can’t get to?  

Posted on July 5 with 3 notes Reblog
Knees and Toes

On a seven plus hour plane ride, two things are abundantly clear: soundtracks are practically made for long rides and my legs are certainly not. Neither of these facts are new to me. I discovered the fact about the soundtrack this February when I flew down to Disney to meet my family. The music was selections from Saving Mr. Banks, which was certainly Disney without being too Disney. The fact about my legs has been something I’ve known my whole life being unfortunately tall. 

This is not the first time I have been to Europe, my first experience was a semester abroad in Manchester almost three years ago. I was bitten by the wanderlust bug, going back again last summer, and deciding last minute to apply for this Germany for Educators program. 

But let me be clear, this trip almost didn’t happen. I am a type A person, an honors student plagued by the mindset wanting perfection and a bit of a “mom” syndrome that translates to me taking care of all of my friends seeing that I have no kids of my own. This all led to me trying to do too much. Get a 4.0, participate in this trip, move out of my parents’ house, plan a road trip with my friends; I am a woman plagued by over-ambition who consistently bites off more than she can chew. But in life we have to make choices. We can delay supposed adulthood to see the world. We can step in a country in a language we don’t speak in the hopes to enrich our knowledge or we can try to achieve perfection that no one will even consider anyway. I chose to take the step in Germany, in case you couldn’t guess. 

It was a rushed decision. I essentially figured out if I don’t do this now, I may never do it. Promising myself the possibility to travel like this in the future is not only boring, it’s unreliable. Who knows what will happen in my master’s degree? Where I’ll be in the next few years. Life is supposed to be short and unpredictable. My twenties are supposed to be wild and unpredictable, or perhaps I just listen to the media too much. 

There is another fact that has become very clear as I prepared for this trip: I hate shoes. 

Remember, this is not my first time abroad. This is my first time to Germany, but not the first time I have visited Paris where I’m making a quick stop before (you know, following the whole “I may die tomorrow and I want to see Europe” thing). This is the first time, however, that I have been told wearing sneakers makes you an obvious tourist. I had never noticed. My travels have been primarily solitary and, with a family that has a streak of paranoia, I didn’t spend much time chatting to people when I was out. But three trips does not an expert make and when in Rome you’re supposed to do like the Romans. Or something. The Romans didn’t last too long so maybe they’re not the best example to follow. 

Anyway, shoes. I went looking for comfortable shoes that I could walk around in that were not sneakers (I’m still not sure what those look like) and I have found the search nearly impossible. Being unfortunately tall has some unfortunate benefits. Like big feet. Have you tried finding an ample selection of shoes in a size twelve where you can try them on before buying them? Try it. Because I have and it’s not easy. Especially if you are trying to stray away from the whole old lady shoe thing because as a twenty-something-soon-to-be-teacher-but-still-working-retail I would like to buy shoes I will wear again. I went through eight pairs and made a sizable dent in my budget (but I don’t like to think about it so I don’t have an exact number). 

At one point I came upon the question: Does it really matter? What would happen if I didn’t find shoes? Would Germans burn me as a witch if I wore sneakers? Or would I merely just scream tourist when I wasn’t at the school I’d be staying at? Could I live with being the obvious tourist? I could deal with being a tourist. I’m already planning on taking tons of architecture pictures and, as I’ve said, I don’t speak Germany so I’m 99.8% positive that the Germans will figure out that I’m not one of their own. 

But the question that surfaces with that: Does it matter? Why do we automatically assume that tourist are a bad thing? When my parents heard about the trip the first response was “it must be nice to have that kind of money.” Sure, this is not a budget friendly trip and if I didn’t go on it I could be moved out of my house by now. But why should negativity be the first reaction to travel? Shouldn’t we, as a culture, foster a spirit of tourism, of adventure? 

I have a few goals for this trip but they can really be summed up in two ways. I want to explore another part of the world I haven’t before and I want to add more tools to my teaching tool box. If I can do those two things I will consider every penny of it worth it. And no, I won’t be wearing sneakers. 

Posted on July 5 with 2 notes Reblog





Rami Kadi III

autumn-winter 2013-2014

these are dresses for a wicked stepmother, which is not something i wanted to be until i realized they had a uniform like this.

How many people do I have to murder to get one of these

How many people do I have to murder to get all of these

Posted on June 8 with 26,046 notes via goodshipgoodwood Reblog


Reclaimed bubbles: A lovely late afternoon spend on one of the man made islands off the coast of Tokyo. Just because this land is no longer sea, doesn’t mean there’s no bubbles!

Posted on June 8 with 4,222 notes via enjoyablesquares Reblog

(Source: thedaymarecollection)

Posted on June 8 with 273,454 notes via goodshipgoodwood Reblog