Phobias

Today I discovered that my phobia, one that has been the reason of much ridicule from my friends and sometimes family over the course of my life, is a legitimate one and even has a NAME.

Globophobia is the fear of balloons. Which I have had, and have recognized having, since I was in elementary school. I even found this clip from the Maury Povitch show...



I don't know if this makes me feel better or worse, but it's nice knowing that I'm not alone in my craziness. Well, it's also comforting to know I could be much, much worse than I am.

I've also come to realize that I have Thanatophobia, but I have such a hard time talking about it without having a panic attack, so I won't go on.

It's interesting that these fears have names- but I think that naming these often ridiculous feelings of panic, fright and anxiety trick those plagued by the fear to think they can control it. Hm. Food for thought.

A happier post is hopefully coming soon!
-Leigh

home

Tunes:none

Well. 3rd semester of grad school is done! I am, financially, in a much better place than I was this time last year. Well, essentially. My credit card is well below the maximum limit, my bills are getting paid on time, my car is running...all seems well with that. I am also back in Candia, where ice knocked power out for 43 hours this past week and where cable and phone only came back this morning (after being knocked out last Thursday). Glorious! I'm currently looking up wi-fi hotspots in the area so I don't have to drive up to Durham to do my portfolio.

In anycase, a more legitimate update (with music and pictures!) next time. Until then, happy December!

Americana, Mason Jars, and Grayscale Mountains....

Tunes:"Boy With a Coin"// Iron & Wine



Currently, I'm sitting in Greenbury's. What I said in my last post about coffee shops being the place where I do my best thinking is pretty accurate. Actually, I'd say it's that I am more inclined to blog when I am sitting in a space such as this, or any other, coffee shop. There's bustling workers, side conversations and tasty aromas that I get to block out so I can best focus on whatever it is that's been on my mind to write about. It's sort of unfortunate that in order to fully focus, I need to be in a place where I can ignore the background noises, smells and sights.

In any case, sleeping in today was great. Kristen and I danced hard last night as we went to see my favorite 80's cover band, The Reflex, live at a local bar. I was exhausted when I got home and slept until noon. Amazing. I signed up for my radio show next semester- Mondays, 12-2pm. I really enjoy the Americana time slot too much to give it up...but I do like the idea of having it earlier in the week. Should be good. I'll also be on air this coming Tuesday from 6-9pm. It's three hours long because it's finals week, and it is also a Freeform show, meaning I will play anything and everything I want. You should listen! WXJM.ORG (stream from the website)...

I spent the majority of my day wandering Staunton alone. I found some fantastic vintage cloth & antique stores. At one, Jollyroger Haggle, I got a gift for my little brother as well as an old Mason jar. The blue tint to the glass is amazing. I have a weird fascination with the Mason Jar, or Ball Jar...Atlas jar...I like the Mason ones specifically. And particularly the old, blue hued ones. The way they catch sunlight really enchants me, which sounds incredibly silly- I know- but it's the truth. I want to fill it with buttons and change and marbles and put it on my front window pane.

The woman behind the counter was an interesting lady. Her hair was long and streaked with greys and whites. Her accent was odd and not typical of the valley. She spoke a lot to herself- outloud, and with great conviction. I imagine spending most of your days surrounded by such an immense amount of old, dust collecting things. There's so much in this building...3 floors of rusting hammers and trivets, cookie jars, depression glass, empty coca-cola bottles from the beginning of time, dull silver plates and chipped china, old books- browned and weather-worn, ceramic figurines, prints of sub-par paintings, photographs of people who have been long forgotten...it must be a heavy weight to carry around with you when you work in a place like that. It's like working with the undead...trying to breathe new life into everything that line the shelves, hang on the walls and dangle from the ceilings.

It's interesting how inspired I felt walking through the place. I snapped a few polaroids, and imagined all the ways I could decorate a house or apartment someday. I also thought of all the things I could create from all the junk, and how all the different glass ware and kitchen stuff could be so fun to use in my dream bakery someday. Serving cupcakes and muffins on pink depression glass plates. It's a thought that makes me think about why I am getting this degree, haha.
In fact, I think that a lot.

But anyway. I drove home taking route 42, which snakes through the western part of the valley. You can see lots of great views of the mountains, which is reason enough to drive that way. Winter's been making it's ascention into the valley and it was snow flurrying today. The Alleghanies, which are usually different shades of blue, were instead today shades of gray. It was beautiful. I had this vision of an amazing work of art I wanted to create, and I may try and do it next week.

In the meantime, dinner and then helping out with a show at the station.
-Leigh

Coffee Shop Freewrite...

Tunes:"Silver Trees"//Rocky Votolato


Sometimes I wonder how it is that you can tell when someone is watching you. you know what I mean? It's such a random happening to have some sort of 6th sense for. How is it that the glance of another, or the stare, can be translated across the space that exists between the two people and can be physically felt by the other? Does the degree of intensity make a difference, or duration? Sometimes, I try to test both sides of these questions. Throwing glances and full-on stare downs, indifferent look-overs and thoughtful or questioning moments of being transfixed. It's an incredible phenomenon, I think. And one that has been rarely thought about. Which really impresses me. How is it that in a culture so obsessed with other people, so enamored with interpersonal relations, that this has not been discussed at greater lengths? It truly baffles me.

I do my best thinking in coffee shops.
I'm sitting in one right now, staring out the window at a boy smoking a cigarette. His hair is long, long, long. Curly, too. His shoes are brown and his shirt is green underneath an unzipped, heavy leather jacket. The weather is chilly, but he stares at the cross-walk hatches painted on the street while sucking the nicotine fiercely from his smoke. Looking up at the building behind him, I try to imagine which belongs to him. Does he keep blinds closed, even on dreary days like today? Does he stack picture frames, or jars of condiments on his window panes? Are the Christmas lights blinking on and off, draped in a haphazard way, in his bedroom? Or his living room? Maybe it's his kitchen-- he likes making believe that he's in his Mother's kitchen, which always smelled of pumpkin and nutmeg and cloves and cinnamon this time of year. She liked to have the Christmas tree set up just through the kitchen door, so she could feel the warmth of it's stringed bulbs seep into her skin and into her soul. Maybe having the lights set up as they are in the window frame, he can squint his eyes from across the room and believe that he's back home.
I romanticize the possibilities of this cigarette smoking boy, when in reality, I'm fairly certain his name is Carl and that he plays lead guitar in a local pop-rock band. It's not likely that the Christmas light window is his. What a shame, the Christmas lights could really brighten the place up.

I sip coffee from an enormous, over-sized cup. I laugh to myself when I remember how vehemently I hated coffee not too long ago. Now, I blissfully sip as I pretend to not be watching the old man sitting in the back of the coffee shop. He's been here before, sitting in the same spot-- an over-sized arm chair next to a small reading lamp and in front of a gargantuan mirror. He himself stares at the storefront doors of the coffee shop that open out to Court Square-- the center of this sleepy city. I wonder if he's waiting for someone, or instead waiting for nothing and just sitting his afternoon away.

Store fronts around here remind me of what New York City must be like this time of year- flashy but trite. Still, the second hand stores on South Main create scenes of wintery happiness, despite the recession and global warming and black-friday fatalities. The school year is just about over and my happiness about it is overwhelming. Going to bed happily every night doesn't however stop my bed from hurting my back, or my nose from running or my throat to ache from coughing.

The sky gets dark by five these days, making it hard to read the roman numerals etched in the stone of all the buildings, or the chalked prices of coffee by-the-pound posted above the ordering counter. Lights behind the counter illuminate the bottles of sugary flavors. Hazelnut, cherry, vanilla, caramel. All aglow in warm hues, much like the Christmas lights that still blink in that window four stories above me. Much like the lights strung carefully from tree limbs and porches throughout the city. This time of the year makes all of the tiniest of things feel immensely important, doesn't it? Some stringed lights in a window frame, some spare change tossed into a red bucket, some red sprinkles atop the whip cream on your peppermint white mocha latte.



I suddenly have the urge to clean my apartment.
xo,
Leigh

and now it's December??

Tunes: "Magic"//Ben Kweller


Look at how savvy I've become-- I've discovered a way to add music tracks of what I'm listening to for everyone reading to also enjoy! Ha!

Anyways, I realize it's been about a month since I last wrote. Uncle Dave called me out during Thanksgiving back home, saying how much he looked forward to my posts and how he was so upset that I hadn't written one since gloating about Obama's win. Well, now that I am well rested from celebrating such a historic event, I think it's high-time I got back to writing in here more regularly. Also, this one's for you Uncle Dave! :]

The last month has been insanely busy. My school work, which has been steadily piling up, only got worse. Right now, however-- despite how I am currently using this blog as a means to procrastinate from doing work-- I am pretty devoid of work. While there are a few things needing to get done asap, I am feeling pretty good about it all. In less than 2 weeks, I'll be back in New Hampshire for a month! Which is great, seeing as I just got back from a week-long stint in the 6-0-3. I'm already anxious to go back. Go figure.

It seems as though I have nothing much to speak of in terms of goings-on.
I'm going vegetarian again, which feels like a good decision. I've been doing so much vegan baking lately, it just feels like the natural progression of things. I've been washing my face every night before I go to bed, I've been talking to people I miss and enjoy immensely and I've been driving around at night, looking into illuminated windows as I pass...not in a creepy way! There's something therapeutic about seeing how other halves live, and seeing glowing television sets cast blue hues through window panes. Christmas lights are strung along eaves and bushes, in trees and in doorways and I wear a knit cap whenever I can. The weather has been cold. In my spare time I've been working on crossword puzzles, studying French (Quebecoise) and trying to catch up on sleep. I've been connecting more with people from the radio station, I've seen Christopher Evans and Kristen Selheim a bunch in the last week, which in itself makes me very smiley...





Things are great.
I'll be sure to write more in here soon.
Much love from the chilly Valley!
-Leigh