eastward wind

After reading several recently-acclaimed books in the past few months (you know, books an English major is supposed to read to, like, broaden her mind more), I found myself staring at my bookshelf. Now, my bookshelf at my parent's house - where most of my things still live - is super full of all kinds of good stuff to read. I only brought a smattering of my collection with me and it's interesting to muse over my choices four months after packing them up to bring all the way out here.

The Great Gatsby
Snow Falling on Cedars
several installments of both the Harry Potter and Lemony Snicket series
my favorite Donald Miller books
Gone with the Wind (natch)
(French Rosetta Stone CDS - technically not books but sitting on that shelf nonetheless)

Add to them my recent finds from a local book fair:

Under the Tuscan Sun
The Joy Luck Club
Memoirs of a Geisha
an introductory French textbook

You know, stuff I'm supposed to read.

I don't know if it was the warm weather that got into me or my ever-present desire to escape, but I picked up Bergdorf Blondes, a bood about Park Avenue princesses. And I don't even want to admit how many Sex and the City reruns I've been watching.

Today I got called a "white girl from the northeast." As a rule, I am against labels and putting people - including myself - in boxes. But that is one box I will always fit. As people start to ask me what I'm going to do next year, I don't know what to tell them. I like it here. I never know what I want to do next in terms of jobs, but I like it here and I just got here, so I plan to stay for at least a little bit.

But I'm a white girl from the northeast, and it's hard to make real, satisfactory substitutions for everything the northeast offers. So will I stay here in the end or migrate back east? Or end up somewhere completely different for a little while, and then move on from there too? We shall see. The grand adventure of my life is not so far along - let's find what's in store.