It's starting to feel like fall here in New York. The leaves have already begun to look singed at the edges and the air feels lighter today. These are the days for bike rides, for sunset sessions and offshore winds. For coffee on the boardwalk. The beginnings and ends of the day auburn and rusted, crisp and clear.

This is my last semester as an undergraduate student. I have been in New York for almost two years. I feel like I have been here forever, yet at the same time like I have just arrived.

I spend a lot of time browsing graduate schools in the afternoons, waiting for 4:45 to roll around so i can pedal downtown to pick up Elle from work. It makes me hopeful, yet empties me. Where to go now, what to study, what to do. MFA in creative writing, try to get a book deal? PhD in American Studies, teach college, write essays on the bowels of American popular culture? Who knows which way the wind blows.

I do know that in <9 months I am getting married to a girl who everyday surprises me with he fits of beauty, her moments of grace and humor, her empathy. Other than that, well, I'll figure it out. I'm not worried about it. Not worried at all.