I love that noise.

When I was nervous that I wasn't majoring in the right thing, someone brilliant said to me, "What do you think about all the time? Like, when you're not thinking about anything, what are you thinking about? And whatever it is that you're thinking about, that's what you should be doing." And then I thought, Wow. This is a recipe for success. It's simple. All I have to do is figure out what I think about when I'm not really thinking about anything. And then, that's it-- I'll just major in that.

Well, the past couple of weeks, I've been going through a major crisis. And I mean that quite literally; it's a crisis because I'm worried that I'm not majoring in the right thing. But I have a plan: all I have to do is identify what I think about and then I'll just major in that.

And this is what I thought today when I was walking into the tube and I wasn't really thinking about anything:

Oh goodness, I love that noise. When I stick my magnetic card against the sensitizers and the doors swing open and slam. It's a good slam noise. And when the shower turns on in the morning, I really like that noise too. But mostly, I just like eating breakfast in the morning. Those omelets were so good. I wonder what kind of cheese she used, it was a little sharp. It was just like the cheese we ate on the train when I was in Germany when that guy in the green kept making eye contact with me. His sweater was a really great color of green. The combination with his skin was amazing. And I wonder where he was from, his skin was a beautiful shade of dark-ish brown, but not too dark. I think he was probably from somewhere exotic. I want to be from somewhere exotic, but I wonder what I would look like with darker skin. I don't think I would like it. White skin compliments my dark hair. That's why I like wearing mustard yellow too. The brown hair and the yellow is very good combo. The girl next to me is wearing those colors. Her daughter is wearing even better colors-- her striped tights just make me smile. Or maybe it's the fact that she's stepping on and off her mother's shoes and her mom just keeps staring straight at the ads on the wall, completely unaffected by her daughter who is now dancing around her. She stares at really good advertisements. Like the one that I saw yesterday. A successful ad. It was just a round boy, standing still in swim trunks on a black background. The colors were dramatic and there were no words. That's the best part about art. Communication without words is difficult, so when someone does it successfully, it's impressive. And it's a good ad strategy. Everyone looked at this particular advertisement (I think it's art), as they walked by. I wanted to know what the ad was for, and by thinking that I was thinking exactly what the advertisers wanted me to think. I hate proving them right. But, then again, I kind of like being predictable. Like when Michael knew that I was a half red, half blue personality. Shoot the dog, if he knew I was a red personality, maybe that means I'm a really obviously outspoken person like red personalities are. He's right, I am too outspoken. When I get on the tube everyone knows that I'm American, because I speak three decibals above everyone else around me. It's kind of embarrassing, but I get on the tube anyway, because I just love that noise when I put my tube pass against the sensitizers and the doors slam open. Slam. What a good noise.

Now you know why I'm having a major crisis.