Moveit.

I'm all about fresh starts. If you follow my things, follow me here: summerlove.

It might be time...

...for me to begin blogging again. Why? Because I have more time, but also because I think my brain-sicles are clotted up from not getting my thoughts out. I've always been the journaling type, and lord knows I've been blogging since before it was even called blogging (does anyone remember opendiary.com?).

But since my creativity has been blocked by extensive (and even excessive) forays into theory and academia, I need to get those juices flowing in whatever ways I can.

And if it's by blogging, then goddammit, I will blog.

I ain't goin' down...

...I'm just trying to remember what's good.

Coming out of the closet.

I admit it. I still love Mariah. I don't care, she's still hot. She's still classy, she's still saying things like "You're delusional" and "all fired up with your Napoleon complex" in her songs and it sounds hot. She came back from a breakdown, a bad album (hello Charmbracelet) and an ill-advised film (Glitter?). The woman adapts and I love her.

I especially love this:

Not the official video, but it's the only version of the song I could embed. I like the comment: "poor Mariah she is still a silly waitress."

So anyway. The secret's out.

I DO exist!

Hello, my namesake, Rachel Grey, daughter of Cyclops and Jean Grey. How bad ass is she. I've known about my namesake's existence for quite awhile, but never felt the need to look her up until my brother came across her in one of his issues of Uncanny X-Men.

So there is my doppelganger. There should be a word for the you that you are as a superhero.

wind(ing).

The fruits of my visit home have been plenty. Some nuggets include:

-a hike with my brother up to a waterfall that entailed me trying to cross a creek by balancing on a log. We'll say that it ended with me slamming my face into a rock, banging up my leg, filling my shoes with water and getting algae all over my shirt.

-impromptu visit to the town of my birth, which involved fifteen minutes of driving around trying to find a bathroom. The park is much smaller than I remember it being.

-reliving my pre-adolescent/adolescent years by reading old journals. For a few days there, I felt neurotic, insecure and hormonal. Oh wait -- I think that's just my PMS. HA.

-deciding that coming back for a month and a half is far too long.

Though the past month has been excruciating, I will say that it's given me perspective. It's reminded me of who I was and who I am, and that's what I needed.

Now I just have to survive 2 more weeks...

i <3 women.

especially these ones:



God, I love female badass-ery. It makes me want to cry tears of joy. Maybe one day my sarcasm will allow me that.