The hurricane was lame. Just a lot of rain and wind. Last time a tree fell on an electric wire and there was a huge fire next door. This time we only got a few branches in the yard.

I have had a headache for two days now. Let's just do a lazy post, ok?

What Pippy's Reading, Watching and Listening to (this week*)

Reading:
The Comedy of Errors - William Shakespeare
Menaechmi - Plautus
Miss Peregrine's home for Peculiar Children - Ransom Riggs
A Novel Bookstore - Laurence Cosse

Watching:
Torchwood Episode 1.3 Ghost Machine
Big Love Episode 2.4 Rock and a Hard Place
The Orphanage - Juan Antonio Bayona

Re-watching:
Rushmore - Wes Anderson
Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End - Gore Verbinsky
Grey's Anatomy Season 5

Listening To:

Songs:
Let's Win! - Alexander
Rad Pitt - Egyptian Hip Hop
Crazy For You - Best Coast
Black Star - Gillian Welch
The Writer - Ellie Goulding
Me and Armini - Emiliana Torrini
Canadian Girl - The Walkmen
Cigarettes In The Theater - Two Door Cinema Club
The Boy With Two Hearts - The Boy Least Likely To
Down Among The Wines & Spirits - Elvis Costello (from his Americana, bluegrass, folk 2009 album**)
Haikuesque (When She Laughs) - Bibio
Shadow People - Dr. Dog
Starring - Freelance Whales
Herringbone - Department of Eagles
Shakespeare's Sister - The Smiths
Hands Reversed - Tokyo Police Club
Peace & Quiet - White Lies
Vietnam - Crystal Castles
Sun Opens My Eyes - Wavves

Album on Repeat All Summer:
Bon Iver - Bon Iver


And there you have it. A week of my literature, television, film, and music consumption.

*As if anyone cares.
**Fact about me: I love folk music including Americana and bluegrass.

I have begun schoolwork again and I have never been happier. There is nothing I love more than reading and writing all through the night.

In exactly one month from today I will be flying over the Atlantic on my way to England. This is making me quite nervous. I have a terrible fear of the ocean - I am perfectly fine with flying, but i am terrified of flying over the ocean. Maybe it doesn't make much sense. If you're in an airplane, you're thousands of feet in the air and it doesn't really matter what is down below. But there is something about the vast unknown of the ocean. We don't know what is hiding in the darkest depths of the sea. There is some primal fear that engulfs me at the thought of crossing the ocean, which in my imagination is an abyss of watery shadows. The water is cold, heavy, black. It holds a sinister power, a dark magic. And my deepest human instinct seems to be telling me that man is no match against the sea's might.

Other than dreading my flight over the Atlantic, I am starting to feel rather nervous about moving to another country. It is common to take a semester abroad while in college, but I am going for a whole year. Yesterday I was visiting one of my best friends and we started to talk about how our lives are veering away from our carefully set plans. It was the sort of conversation you can only have with a best friend, someone who knows your whole story. And it reminded me that my story is still being written. I wanted to rush home and put a part of my story-in-progress into actual words. So here I am writing a blogpost.

I remember writing a blog post at the end of last semester about the power of leaving. Well, it is that force that has steered my life to this new direction. I hadn't planned on moving to Englad for a year. I was supposed to be returning to Syracuse to finish my degree. But that all changed. I know I keep dwelling on the shitty year I had at school, but it's hard to convey just how much changed in my life because of everything I went through. There is a line dividing my life into Before and After. The line falls directly on the first week of December. That's when I knew I would never be able to continue on with my fractured life as it was during the Before. I had to throw it all away and start from scratch because the pieces of my Before life were broken beyond repair.

I threw out my old life plan, the one that included not just a double major but also a minor. I had aspired to join Peace Corp or Teach for America. I was going to graduate with honors. I was going to live with my friends in an old house near campus. I was going to have a fabulous two years at Syracuse filled with golden memories. I pictured myself being a proud Orange alumna twenty years from now, still an avid fan of the basketball team. I would be married to an Orangeman I met during my picture-perfect college years; and, of course, I would be so proud when my son or daughter chose Syracuse for college years later. It was going to be an ordinary life, but a happy one. And I still wish I could have that. I wish I could have 4 college years to look back on as the start of it 'all' -whatever it would be.

I tried to hold onto the fraying threads of those possibilities. I tried so hard to hold that future together. But it was a futile attempt. That life plan was only ever a fantasy because, the truth is, I think this outcome was already set in motion before I set foot on my college campus. It started the first time I let my depression take control. And the depression just grew in strength all through high school and my first year and a half of college until everything broke into a million jagged pieces. Then, it was all After.

I didn't try to pick up the pieces and fit them back together. I threw them away and started from nothing. And when you have nothing and you are nothing, you can make anything. So I took the only thing I was sure of, my love of literature, and used that to put together a new life plan. That's how I ended up applying to Oxford. All I had was English literature and the power of leaving.

So I left Syracuse behind. Oxford lies ahead. After that, who knows? I'll probably have to return to Syracuse to finish my undergraduate degree but I know there's nothing left for me there. It's just where I have to return to receive my diploma before moving on. Now, I don't really have much of a life plan. It's only a fuzzy notion because I know better than to hand myself over to another conception of the future that will just splinter and fall apart with the tiniest disturbance. The hazy image includes returning to Syracuse for a last semester to pick up my B.A. in just English (no second major or minor, no Teach for America, no Peace Corp, hopefully honors because I still believe in academic excellence but other than that all I want is the degree). I would like to graduate a year from this December, then have the spring to work and save money for graduate school (wherever I end up...). But that's it. That's all I have for a future.

Right now I am going to leave the country, leave my Before, and seek out my After. There is power in leaving. I am choosing to depart. I am not taking any further questions; I am not saying goodbye. I am leaving. I do not know where I will end up. I am taking with me only what I truly need (including the selected friendships that are most important to me) and leaving all the rest behind. Will it be there waiting for me when I return? I don't know. I don't even know if I will be returning (metaphorically - I will be returning to America and most likely Syracuse, but I won't be returning to Before). I don't know and it's scary but it's also wonderful.

I am ready to fly over the ocean, even though it terrifies me with the shadowy depths of the unknown. I am ready to embark on the After.

Where was I during the earthquake?

In the basement level of an Ikea, the glassware section with everything falling off the shelves around me. I may or may have been a little blazed. Because sometimes it's fun to walk through Ikea with a nice floaty feeling. It was probably the weirdest way to experience my first earthquake.

I hate when my stupid microwave doesn't pop my bag of popcorn properly.

I have decided to start a new feature for this blog: What Pippy's Watching.

I love Netflix so much I don't even mind too much that they've hiked their prices (key words: too much). I have the 2 DVD and unlimited streaming plan. It is heaven on earth. Last semester I watched all of Bones, 30 Rock, Doctor Who, and Friday Night Lights.

Today, I've decided to blog my way through my newest series. I am currently watching the very first episode of Torchwood. I am also working my through Big Love.

I don't feel like I can review Torchwood just yet because I am only about ten minutes in but after I've got a feel for the show I will definitely report back. So far I am quite enjoying myself. Captain Jack Harkness is a dreamboat, fulfilling all the 1950's cheesy meanings of the word. As for Big Love, I am on Season 2 Episode 3. A review will follow sometime this week.

I think What Pippy's Watching will be a regular feature to track my daily viewing habits. Occasionally I will post longer reviews and posts for the feature. I am a bit of a television junkie.

I am also a book junkie...so I suppose I'll do a feature on What Pippy's Reading as well. It'll have the same premise and set up. To get started: I am currently in between books. I just finished reading The Help by Kathryn Stockett. I went to the library tomorrow so I have plenty of books to choose from for tomorrow.


Bedtime I think. This blog post is crap...but I just can't bring myself to actually look at my life and find something more to write about. I am going through one of those moments. I don't want to look at my life. So I'm just going to look at Captain Jack Harkness.

I inexplicably found an Ellie Goulding CD sitting on my kitchen counter today. No one in the family has even heard of her besides me. Does it count as stealing?

I've been thinking a lot about family really. Obviously, this is in part because I have spent the past three months living at home. This summer has been the first time in seven years that all seven members of the family have been living together in the farmhouse. Just six months ago Danny was living in California, Carlee in her own apartment in Baltimore, Johnny in New York City, and I was in Syracuse. Now, we're all back under one roof again. It's only for the summer, though. Danny will be moving back to California in the fall. Carlee just bought a new house downtown and will be moving in once the renovation is complete. Johnny is going back to school in New York soon. And I will be moving to England.

It's strange. I haven't lived in the same house as my older sister since 2004. When she left I was 14 and she was 19. We weren't exactly best friends. Now, I am 20 and she is 25. Finally we're at a time when we can be friends. We've always been close for sisters. She's been a great older sister, very supportive and always guiding me through hard times. But now I feel as if we can finally be friends. It's nice. I have always loved my sister, but this summer I've realized how much I like her. After I come home from England next year, I am planning to live with her downtown instead of with my parents.

Of course, every summer is another marker of how quickly time is passing. I said it last summer and the summer before that and it's still true now. This summer feels like it could be the last one before we're all officially "grown up." I put grown up in quotes because I know it is a ridiculous term. Do you ever reach  an official status as "grown up?" No, we never stop growing (or at least we should never stop), so that every summer has a bit of "final" to it.

The idea of the four of us growing up is daunting. For now, we are a "we." We are a collective. The Pipitone kids. It's us and everyone else is them. I know we'll never stop being four siblings, but I look at my parents and their siblings and I see that it becomes less important. Eventually we'll all be starting our own families, new "us" groups.

My mother is one of seven. She has five brothers and one younger sister. Now, she and her siblings are spread out over five states. She sees Uncle Joe, Uncle Mark, Uncle Steve, and Aunt Barbara once a year. Uncle Teddy comes for the major holidays*. Uncle Jeff hasn't visited in seven years. And none of these visits would happen at all if Grandma didn't live with us. My aunts and uncles come to visit Grandma not my mother, their sister. Some of the siblings don't even talk to each other anymore because of an unpleasant issue that no one talks about. It's just so sad. These brothers and sisters seem to have become mere acquaintances, just old childhood friends.

Will Carlee, Danny, Johnny, and I be like that someday?

*He is divorced and lives alone so he comes to be with Grandma. My mother isn't particularly close with him, though. She's closest with Uncle Joe, I think.

I think my eyes are too big for my head. My old piano teacher and her husband used to call me Big Eye Girl. I'm feeling rather self-conscious.

I am wearing a new top. This is how I imagine an illicit affair feels like - it's my dirty, little secret. I know it's wrong, in fact I know it's shameful, degrading,* and inevitably disastrous. I know I will end up hurt. But this reckless decision, deliberately turning my back on good sense, is cathartic. It's not thrilling. I don't take pleasure in being bad, like a Catholic schoolgirl sneaking her first cigarette and feeling drunk on the rebellious spirit. It's more masochistic than that.

Here's the thing. In about 6 weeks I'm flying to England to study at freakin' Oxford. How is that my life? That can't possibly be reality because that's not the sort of thing that happens to me. And to prove it, because I am self-loathing, I'm going to show Oxford and everyone who is proud of me and most importantly myself that it's all wrong, I'm all wrong. Don't expect anything but disappointment from me.

Hell, in my twisted mind, I don't deserve this opportunity. I used to spend months believing that I didn't even deserve to eat. I would use restriction as a form of self-punishment to remind myself not to get my hopes up about anything. Now, that starving high school girl is coming back.

I'm supposed to be saving money for my time abroad, but instead I'm just buying more clothes that I don't need. Yes, I have this burning need to appear perfect so no one will guess that I'm really on the maximum dosage for Prozac and I'm still unstable. My appearance is something I can control...so expect me to have cute clothes, expect me to be skinny, expect me to look good. But don't expect anything else from me. Certainly don't expect me to be smart.

God, this is a depressing blog post. I first intended it to be a light, joking piece about my shopping addiction. But, as always, the truth comes out when I start typing.

And now I can hear my father arguing with my mother on the phone. My mother is currently in Oklahoma. The house has been a lot more relaxed without her but somehow she can still bring the tension just over the phone. All I can do is sigh and let it pass. Just another source of stress in my life.

I guess it's time to go drink this whole week away.**

45 Days Until Oxford


*Yeah, I still use the Oxford comma. I like my grammar to be unambiguous, which is irrelevant in this example but it's the principle of the thing. I guess I'm old-school.

**But not really because I've been drinking a lot less this summer. See? I'm not completely destroying my life. At least I care enough to stop blacking out every weekend.

Just now I downloaded school forms and for some reason when I clicked on the newest document in my downloads folder...it was John Green's Zombie Apocalypse novella. Computer glitch is made of awesome.

Funny story about how I intended to blog last night but then a whole steaming pile of awkward and then awesome arrived instead. I was just sitting around coloring and watching Modern Family and then BAM! I get a text from Johnny and my night becomes a whole new story.

Let's just give a rundown:
- I have a tendency to hook up with my brother's best friends. Really just his 2 best friends Nick and Lou*. Timeline is as follows: summer after high school graduation I hooked up with Nick, then I went to college and was distracted by college boys, and finally this summer I hooked up with Lou for a few weeks when I returned home from college sick of the now annoying college boys.
- Nick dropped out of college, moved to New York, and wrote a screenplay, which he then turned into an AMAZING movie that will be entered into several major film festivals.
- Lou dropped out of college and I'm not entirely sure what he is doing with his life.
- AND last night Nick was in town for the first time all summer so...I ended up sitting on the purple couch in between him and Lou watching his movie.

Anyway...it was an interesting Wednesday night. We sat on the back porch and smoked cigarettes while talking about Shakespeare for a while. Nick and I rekindled our musical bond over Bon Iver and hipster music. Lou asked me to knit him a scarf. It was odd and awkward at first, but then I remembered why I liked the 2 of them out of all of Johnny's friends. I hadn't seen Nick in a long time so it was nice just to catch up and remember how awesome he is. Since the situation with Lou was so recent, it was awkward on its own** but we're moving back to normal, which is nice.

In all honesty, of course I compared the two in my mind, but in the end I came to the conclusion that it doesn't matter because it's all in the past. Whatever happens in the future will be its own story. I'm moving out of the country in 6 weeks so really my future is hazy and uncertain.

Also, before I go off to my doctor's appointment I just have to rave about Nick's movie. I am actually in awe at how talented he is. I think it's weird to watch a movie written by and starring your friend while you're sitting next to him. But it was beautifully written, intensely layered, and wonderfully shot. It is called The Circus Animals. Hopefully, I will write up a proper review when I have more time to do it justice.


*I am using real names because I don't really care. If they care enough to stalk me all the way to this little corner of my internet existence, then they can know exactly what I think.

**Anyone who has ever hooked up with a friend and then gone back to the old, non-sexy friendship knows that there is awkwardness. It's not a huge deal and it's not enough to begrudge each other anything. It's just how it it. With Lou, our little "thing" ended rather vaguely (as they always do) just a few weeks ago. I'm not hurt or upset, but there's just the awkwardness of adjusting back to some kind of normal and learning how our friendship has inevitably changed (but hopefully not for the worse).

A 14 hour day at work is no joke.

I know I should go to bed and I am really not in a good mood...but here I am. Ellipsis in the first sentence. I'm right on track for a typical blog post.

Today began with the morning argument with my sister over the bathroom. Seriously, I feel like it's 7 years ago. But the not-so-funny part is that it's not. She's 25 and I'm 20. Also, she's not supposed to be living with out parents anymore. She moved out 4 years ago. Technically, she's only staying here while she's remodeling her house. But she's still the bossy older sister and I'm the annoying baby sister.

Then, I continued onto my dull existence as a nanny. I read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows while the kids built forts in the living room. At the beginning of the summer I was really involved with fun activities and nurturing playful imagination games. Now, I've given up. These kids like to play with toy guns. I hate guns. My kids will never own toy guns. It is not cute to see a 5 year olds pretending to kill each other. It's troubling.

But after a long day with heathen children I did not get to go home and snuggle with my puppy. I had to go to work at the pizza place. People were rude and the fire alarm went off for 15 minutes. It was a whole new kind of torture. Luckily, I love my co-workers so we bitched and laughed with each other.

Now, I am watching Modern Family as I try to cheer myself up. But it's just reminding me that in real life family is dysfunctional and annoying without the laugh track.

Phil is pretty hysterical, though: "I regularly drive through neighborhoods that have only recently been gentrified. So yeah, pretty much not afraid of anything."

Blogging More Frequently in August (and Perhaps September)

I am sitting on the purple couch. My brother and his friend Pete are watching Boardwalk Empire. I have been sitting on this couch since waking up at noon and I intend to sit here until I go back to bed later. My father just walked in with his t-shirt tucked into sweatpants. And Pearl the puppy is licking my foot. This is the exciting life I lead.

Despite the lack of action in my life, I think daily writing will get my brain back into shape. So here I am. I'm a little late for the party so I guess this technically isn't BEDA...but who the hell cares?

In about 2 months I will be starting Michaelmas term, but I feel like my brain has turned to sludge this summer. That is why I am writing. I need to get my brain back in shape - writing more frequently, reading more. I work 44 hours as a nanny and about 20 hours at a pizza place every week. When you spend your days with five year olds or serving pizza, your mind doesn't get much exercise.

Now, my sister and my mother are arguing over tiles. And I am still on the purple couch.

I feel like I need something to keep track of something here because that's what cool bloggers do. I'm going to countdown to England.

Days Until England: 49