Water from the heavens! Electricity from the source!

This is an over-confident Seattleite who has finally arrived home after getting caught in a downpour somewhere around 114th & Broadway. (She spent her new student orientation day chuckling to herself as she watched her peers shuffling about under umbrellas in the "rain".) Seattlite is met with sheets of rain and loud, loud thunder. Seattleite embraces her folly, peels her wet clothes off so as not to catch pneumonia. Seattleite reluctantly decides to bite the bullet and buy an umbrella. Seattleite is a little ashamed, but also very impressed.

My goodness, this rain makes me feel at home.

For me. For Mom. For Dad. For anyone else who worries about me.

Psalm 93.

"The Lord reigns, He is clothed

with majesty;

The Lord is clothed,

He has girded Himself with

strength.

Surely the world is established,

so that it cannot be moved.

Your throne is established from

of old;

You are from everlasting.

The floods have lifted up, O Lord,

The floods have lifted up their

voice;

The floods lift up their waves.

The Lord on high is mightier

Than the noise of many waters,

Than the mighty waves of the

sea.

Your testimonies are very sure;

Holiness adorns Your house,

O Lord, forever.

Hello.

Here are some bits and pieces of my time here so far. All photographs are from the world wide web (lame, I know). As I establish more courage, I will take my camera out on adventures, but right now I am elbowing my way through the concrete jungle.

This is why I'm here. I feel a sense of pride strolling around the campus. I also frequently trip, because the paths are covered with uneven brick in a herringbone design. Ah, well. If anyone understands the importance of aesthetics, Columbia, it's this girl right here.

This is my new Trader Joe's. It's in an old bank. If you know anything about how much I love re-claiming abandoned spaces, you'll know how exciting this first shopping experience was for me.

This is a cookie I had for lunch today. Yes, it deserves a shout out. It's from Levain Bakery on the Upper West Side. Holy crap. $4 and completely, completely worth it. And my sweet tooth isn't very pronounced. I consumed it while gawking up at the multi million dollar penthouses overlooking Central Park. The wealth of that neighborhood is almost unsettling.

This is Central Park. It is very, very big and full of diverse landscape. I took a walk through part of it today to get a feel for a more cinematic New York City, because I have done little more than running school-related errands during my time here. Hannah says that every day will get brighter and more hopeful; after that walk, I started to see what she means. This will be good.

Jess & I stumbled upon this view today while scouring for thrift shops in Brooklyn Heights the other day. Fantastic, no? The Brooklyn Bridge is a little to the right of the frame, and the Statue of Liberty a ways to the left. We were grumbling for blocks about how much we missed our respective cities on the West Coast, when we followed our feet to the waterfront and ate our words. This city is immense. Engulfing. Insane. Empowering.

Tomorrow marks day five of my new life and day one of new student orientation. Here we go!

Shuffles to find suitcase. Sighs. Prepares a French press. Sits.

okay, now it feels real (ish).

I have seen the future.

My friend Danny and I went to a screening of The Future to-night and were fortunate enough to be a part of a Q & A session with actress and director, Miranda July. While the movie itself was mentally stimulating and creatively built, I walked away with a bigger curiosity about the woman herself. This poised and petite and peculiar woman with a mop of curls on her head and a lot on her plate all the time--she is a creative think-tank, and I cannot wait to get my hands on her short stories and see what she comes out with in, dare I say it, "the future".

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"It was a real whale, a photograph of a real whale. I looked into its tiny wise eye and wondered where that eye was now. Was it alive and swimming, or had it died long ago, or was it dying now, right this second? When a whale dies, it falls down through the ocean slowly, over the course of a day. All the other fish see it fall, like a giant statue, like a building, but slowly, slowly." And her stories are currently helping me with my phobias.