Abby
This adorable little creature is my newest fascination...
Ms. Abigail Grace Negersmith.
My first, fabulous NEICE.
Born just after midnight April 23rd, weighing 8lbs. 5oz. and measuring 19 inches.
30 April 2008
25 April 2008
Français, North Africa, Pleasure Reading, Ink and All Things Below Sea Level
I am pages away from finishing the last paper of my undergraduate education, peeking over at my sweetly sleeping new niece, and counting down the days before my life again transforms into two-week stints in beautifully dirty and charmingly chaotic cities…Life is going a bit too fast to really contemplate things, but still slow enough to be aware of what is going on. It’s not bad, not bad at all.
I feel completely lost about what job awaits me this September, but luckily the next few months will provide enough distractions to prevent me from thoroughly stressing out about it. It will – as always – work out exactly as intended, ٳن شاﺀ ﷲ In the meantime, I’ve been thinking of a few must-do’s for the next few months or years or seasons or whatever or my life. You can consider this a sort of it a ‘bucket list’...
I want to start pleasure reading again. Really. I want to blow thru books like a voracious summer breeze. I want to indulge in a few pages before sleeping, escape for a chapter or so everyday on the metro, or at least steal some paragraphs between sips of espresso during my coffee break. I miss reading. I also miss feeling like a reader. I haven’t written in months, and part of the reason might be that I haven’t read for…wow…years? Impossible! Nevertheless, I’ve been seriously deprived of pleasure reads and I want to end that as soon as possible. First on the list… Alain deBotton’s Status Anxiety. For the bucketlist: Enjoy a pleasure read per month.
I got my first tattoo 4 years ago at a sketchy little shop in Philadelphia with the lovely J of the MajL crew at my side. It was intended to be the first of four, but since then my views on tattoos have been influenced by a couple complicated factors, so I’ve put all the thoughts of future tattoos on hold. I have recently decided, I am indeed ready, finally, for tattoo number two – in dedication to my past and inspired by my mum – discreetly tucked in the teeny-tiniest way imaginable below my hairline at the nape of my neck. Bring on the ink and all its problematic religious implications. For the bucketlist: Tat number two, soon soon soon.
As of late, I’ve been fantasizing about a job in Paris. Or Lyons. Or Nice. Or actually anywhere in France. I guess it’s rooted in the fact my French is pretty good and I feel like this is an opportune time to perfect it. Sometimes my soul just feels pulled places – Why else would I have lived the first part of this year in the grimiest, most over-priced, and disappointing city in Italy and loved it?! - and I guess I just feel pulled to the idea of France or something Francophone right now. I’ve toyed with the idea of Montreal or Tunis or even the Seychelles but for some reason I’ve got this hankering for Paris. The thought of returning to a life punctuated by the Euro and regulated by fashion is slightly nauseating, but it would be so refreshing to know a little corner of the city I have visited three times as a tourism in a more intimate, more native kind of way. We’ll see… For the bucketlist: Spend several months in France.
Perhaps the bigger motivation behind the recent France obsession is a desire to really explore North Africa. This was one of my lame goals before studying abroad in Egypt. I wanted to acquire a taste of North Africa; see and feel and hear and explore all the sensations the Sahara serves up. Retrospectively, that seems naïve, but in this moment it again seems like a realistic possibility. Whether this is a professional endeavor or a personal interest or a quirky mixture of the two, I’m not yet sure. Eitherway, I hope that Tripoli, Marrakech and every interesting city between the two decorate my path sooner than later. For the bucketlist: Grow intimate with a few cities in North Africa and pin a couple dozen towns across the map between the Red Sea and the Atlantic Ocean.
If there’s one thing I’m feening for it’s salt water. It’s the hum-and-bubble of my regulator. It’s the scent of wetsuits and BCDs hanging to dry. It’s the bumpy jaunt to the Blue Hole and the drowsiness of a post-nap briefing aboard a boat over Ras Mohammed. It’s the serene freedom of surrendering to the sea, making friends with fishies, and forgetting only fleetingly of all the responsibilities and emotions of life above the waves. In approximately six weeks my fins should be stepping into the Red Sea and I couldn’t be more grateful. For the bucketlist: Finish up that divemaster.
Also on the bucketlist is a decision about when I’ll dive into grad. school, a desperate need to be honest and mature and irrationally-dedicated to the man I love, and invest in some cookbooks and a kitchen to try them out in. But for now… I’m back to polishing and proofing this paper, coordinating flight times for all my siblings coming to town, fantasizing about Inter matches and May-time Milano, and growing increasingly more anxious about what direction the summer will offer.
I am pages away from finishing the last paper of my undergraduate education, peeking over at my sweetly sleeping new niece, and counting down the days before my life again transforms into two-week stints in beautifully dirty and charmingly chaotic cities…Life is going a bit too fast to really contemplate things, but still slow enough to be aware of what is going on. It’s not bad, not bad at all.
I feel completely lost about what job awaits me this September, but luckily the next few months will provide enough distractions to prevent me from thoroughly stressing out about it. It will – as always – work out exactly as intended, ٳن شاﺀ ﷲ In the meantime, I’ve been thinking of a few must-do’s for the next few months or years or seasons or whatever or my life. You can consider this a sort of it a ‘bucket list’...
I want to start pleasure reading again. Really. I want to blow thru books like a voracious summer breeze. I want to indulge in a few pages before sleeping, escape for a chapter or so everyday on the metro, or at least steal some paragraphs between sips of espresso during my coffee break. I miss reading. I also miss feeling like a reader. I haven’t written in months, and part of the reason might be that I haven’t read for…wow…years? Impossible! Nevertheless, I’ve been seriously deprived of pleasure reads and I want to end that as soon as possible. First on the list… Alain deBotton’s Status Anxiety. For the bucketlist: Enjoy a pleasure read per month.
I got my first tattoo 4 years ago at a sketchy little shop in Philadelphia with the lovely J of the MajL crew at my side. It was intended to be the first of four, but since then my views on tattoos have been influenced by a couple complicated factors, so I’ve put all the thoughts of future tattoos on hold. I have recently decided, I am indeed ready, finally, for tattoo number two – in dedication to my past and inspired by my mum – discreetly tucked in the teeny-tiniest way imaginable below my hairline at the nape of my neck. Bring on the ink and all its problematic religious implications. For the bucketlist: Tat number two, soon soon soon.
As of late, I’ve been fantasizing about a job in Paris. Or Lyons. Or Nice. Or actually anywhere in France. I guess it’s rooted in the fact my French is pretty good and I feel like this is an opportune time to perfect it. Sometimes my soul just feels pulled places – Why else would I have lived the first part of this year in the grimiest, most over-priced, and disappointing city in Italy and loved it?! - and I guess I just feel pulled to the idea of France or something Francophone right now. I’ve toyed with the idea of Montreal or Tunis or even the Seychelles but for some reason I’ve got this hankering for Paris. The thought of returning to a life punctuated by the Euro and regulated by fashion is slightly nauseating, but it would be so refreshing to know a little corner of the city I have visited three times as a tourism in a more intimate, more native kind of way. We’ll see… For the bucketlist: Spend several months in France.
Perhaps the bigger motivation behind the recent France obsession is a desire to really explore North Africa. This was one of my lame goals before studying abroad in Egypt. I wanted to acquire a taste of North Africa; see and feel and hear and explore all the sensations the Sahara serves up. Retrospectively, that seems naïve, but in this moment it again seems like a realistic possibility. Whether this is a professional endeavor or a personal interest or a quirky mixture of the two, I’m not yet sure. Eitherway, I hope that Tripoli, Marrakech and every interesting city between the two decorate my path sooner than later. For the bucketlist: Grow intimate with a few cities in North Africa and pin a couple dozen towns across the map between the Red Sea and the Atlantic Ocean.
If there’s one thing I’m feening for it’s salt water. It’s the hum-and-bubble of my regulator. It’s the scent of wetsuits and BCDs hanging to dry. It’s the bumpy jaunt to the Blue Hole and the drowsiness of a post-nap briefing aboard a boat over Ras Mohammed. It’s the serene freedom of surrendering to the sea, making friends with fishies, and forgetting only fleetingly of all the responsibilities and emotions of life above the waves. In approximately six weeks my fins should be stepping into the Red Sea and I couldn’t be more grateful. For the bucketlist: Finish up that divemaster.
Also on the bucketlist is a decision about when I’ll dive into grad. school, a desperate need to be honest and mature and irrationally-dedicated to the man I love, and invest in some cookbooks and a kitchen to try them out in. But for now… I’m back to polishing and proofing this paper, coordinating flight times for all my siblings coming to town, fantasizing about Inter matches and May-time Milano, and growing increasingly more anxious about what direction the summer will offer.
07 April 2008
Milano, Italia
Earlier this year I was living in Milan, Italy conducting research for my honors capstone project. While not related to my research whatsoever, I blogged intermittently. If you are interested in reading these posts, they are available here.
Earlier this year I was living in Milan, Italy conducting research for my honors capstone project. While not related to my research whatsoever, I blogged intermittently. If you are interested in reading these posts, they are available here.
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