and we frolicked about in our summer skin.

I’ve been doing a lot of this blogging thing lately.

Except … not.

Most of my writing energy has been shamelessly invested into the rewrite of my four-year-old novel draft.  And fanfiction. *slinks away into corner*

Even my regular journaling hasn’t been much more than sporadic.  My apologies.  Though there’s not much that’s been going on in my life lately … although I guess I haven’t written about the move much at all …

Well, we moved on July 21st.  Almost three weeks ago now.  I’m adjusting better than I thought I would—half the space and my organizational skills are still not up to par, but I’m not on edge all the time, which is what i was rather afraid of.  Sharing a room with my sis is kind of nice, actually.  It’s nice seeing more of her, and getting to have actual conversations like siblings are supposed to do.  Unpacking is a mess, though.  We unpacked books and drawing things and clothes and stuffed animals, and everything else is still in bags and boxes.  Nothing much is happening on that front, much to our mother’s chagrin.  I really would be oaky with just stuffing everything into closets and not paying much more attention to it, but no one else is really going for that.  Ach.  I got rid of so much stuff when we moved and yet the amount of my stuff, even among that which I wanted to keep, for valid reasons, that I actually need or use is rather minimal.

Coffee dates with those people I really like but never get to talk to have been kind of a thing for me this summer. That’s nice.  There are some people that I just really enjoy, you know?  It’s not weird being around them even though it’s only once in a while.  It’s amazing how much you lear about life and yourself just talking in that kind of a situation.  Words explain things, but you don’t use as many words around people you see all the time, because the actually see some of the goings-on of your life firsthand, you know?  You don’t have to think things through as thoroughly around people you see all the time.  Sometimes it’s really refreshing to have a good, long personal talk with somebody you trust but aren’t quite kindred-spirits-type friends with, aye?  Or the type of friend who quite obviously is a kindred spirit but not someone you see often enough to move them in from the fringe of your social circle.

I went camping over the weekend with people who really are some of my best friends in the world.  Just six of us, no kids, no adults (technically we’re all adults, but no non-peer adults, you know).  Two days of total independence—the non-stressful yet responsible kind.  I was genuinely happier than I’ve been in quite some time.  I don’t feel deeply happy very often at all, so I’m really, really glad that this happened.  I needed it so much.

The church camping trip is this weekend, which is always fantastic, though it will be a bit jarring after a weekend with only a half dozen of us.  There will be so many people!  And a strange campground.  And it will be intense.

And then the weekend after that we’re visiting relatives in the U.P. and potentially Wisconsin.  That’s always a toss-up.  I’m not sure of all the specifics of that trip yet, so I can’t really say what I’m expecting from that, but I am choosing to be optimistic.

In academia-related news, which is usually the bulk of my life, I did find out that I can’t defer enrollment at the University of Michigan, so I have to wait a year to apply for the right term.  That’s a relief—one less thing on my plate right this moment.  That means I can delay scholarship applications a bit, too.  Now I mostly need to focus on applying for a guest class at Western (Intermediate French II, since they no longer teach it at KVCC and I need it to transfer), and on brushing up on all the French I learned last year and spectacularly failed to retain (zut alors!), and on my application for the Bethel School of Ministry where I want to spend next year, and on my petition for graduation from KVCC this December.  And there’s that whole job-and-driver’s license thing hanging about in the back of my mind like some shady…I don’t know; like somebody I just don’t want to talk to but I know I’ll have to eventually.  So still, much is happening.  But surprisingly, for once, I feel okay.  I really do.  I’m okay.  I spent most of July just wanting to sleep a lot, and now I actually have some energy, but not a ton of immediate day-to-day responsibilities and deadlines.  It’s a really neat feeling.

^ What an effusive blog post.  I’m done blurting out my life to the Internet now.  Adieu, mes amis!

Moving day in fifteen hours.  Who thought I could do this?

I hate this whole moving house thing.

I hate it so much.
Everything is awful right now.

Between epic soundtracks and new library books and Elijah watching the Dick Van Dyke show in the family room, I’m not getting very much cleaning and packing done.

I’VE LIVED IN THIS HOUSE SINCE I WAS FIVE AND IN THREE WEEKS THERE WON’T BE ANYONE HERE ANYMORE.  What?  What?  How is this happening?

(What is going on with all my fonts?  If you’re seeing Times New Roman and Lucida Calligraphy, I apologize for the mundane/overused and rather boring typefaces currently in use on my blog.  It’s not my fault.  I don’t know why Blogger does silly things.)

On the Hobbit, and my emotions transcending the intra-Kiersten age gap

*Be forewarned, this is a long and maybe slightly ramble-esque post.*

So, I see all these things on the Internet about Harry Potter and how emotional fans got over the last book and last movie coming out, and how people cried when the Sorcerer’s Stone theme capped the epilogue scene of the last film, et cetera.  The thing is, even though I love Harry Potter I don’t have all this nostalgia attached to it because I didn’t read the books until I was sixteen (or see the movies until after the sixth one came out).  Most of the time I’m okay with this, but sometimes I really am sad that it wasn’t part of my childhood.  I feel like I missed out on this grand adventure that millions of people all had together.

Hearing the newly released Hobbit suite today, it struck me that Tolkien is a little bit like my equivalent of Harry Potter.  I read The Hobbit for the first time when I was seven, and The Lord of the Rings when I was eleven, and The Silmarillion when I was fourteen.  I’ve grown up loving them so much.  They made movie of LotR and I adore them, and I’ve been listening to the soundtrack for the film trilogy for eight years, and the Hobbit soundtrack has a lot of the same elements but combined with new ones.  I thrill at the new bits, and the familiar bits mixed in are wringing my heartstrings like crazy.  (I started crying when the Shire theme came in.)

They’re really doing it—making a movie of this book I still remember reading on a long car trip and being confused by because the seven-year-old introvert in me didn’t understand why there was any reason anyone would willingly cram fourteen noisy people into one hobbit-hole.  It’s the first book I remember reading with a dragon it it (although I’m sure it wasn’t actually the first).  It’s the first book I remember reading with trolls that turned to stone in sunlight.  I remember making up my own melodies to go with all the poetry; I remember wishing I had a map with moon runes and wondering why the elves got to invent the pinnacle of invisible ink.

I didn’t get back then why Bilbo was so keen on staying home and having a warm bed and robust food and tea, but now as a college student there’s definitely a part of me that empathizes with that, while at the same time thrilling to the adventure as always.  There’s a part of me now that understand Thorin’s crazy this-is-what-I’m-entitled-to-and-I’d-better-get-it spree.  There’s so much that I appreciate more after having read and reread so many of Tolkien’s other works.

I love The Hobbit.  I adore Tolkien.  I am so grateful that the rights for the films went to an amazing crew of people who are dedicated to carrying on the spirit of his works, and making a movie of the best quality they are able.  There is no way to convey how excited I am that The Hobbit is coming out this year and the next.  I feel like I’m at a perfect time in my life to really be excited for it and appreciate it, and it’s good timing for the casting and all.  This is like my childhood coming to life in a new way.

Literally, I had essentially all these thoughts—condensed of course into one big weepy explosion of emotion—when I heard the music.  It’s beautiful.  It;s going to be a fantastic film.  I can’t wait.  But at the same time, I have so much nostalgia that I could wait a long time, just staying in thoughts of happiness and appreciation like this one, and that’s how it’s been six months since the trailer and it’s still six months until the first film and I haven’t died yet.

Hummingbird

Just one of those sunny summer afternoons where I apparently don’t have anything better to do than have an emotional meltdown that’s going to make me depressed for the rest of the evening and probably ruin my competency as a party guest tonight.

 …

It’s not fair.  I was in such a good mood this morning.

I just ordered a heap of books from Amazon and I got free shipping and I had a gift card so they didn’t cost a thing and I don’t want to wait eight to ten days for them to arrive at my house and YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW EXCITED I AM ABOUT THIS.