Tuesday, April 28, 2009


I used to plug into my iPod every chance I got. Whether it was taking the bus to school, taking the dogs for a walk, or even just the ten minute drive from school to home, I always stuck my earphones into my ears, and turned on my music. Even for those ten minutes.

I'd even spend at least half an hour listening to my music before bed. I was addicted to my music. Seriously.

Now I'm finding I have more chances to plug in and listen, but I'm preferring to sit in silence, and listen to my own thoughts instead.

What does this mean, I wonder?


(PS: new poll coming soon, I promise)

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Watching the fuse

It's going to blow. I'm almost sure. I just don't know when. Should I start forming a plan? Or when the time comes, will it even matter if I do have a plan?

Not that either of those questions matter. I've already started to make various plans, and which one I use will all depend on the situation. I've even left room to improvise.

You can't all me unprepared.

But that is not the point of this.

The point is, taking pictures of people. Not a bad topic, which I thought of thanks to Ken. I had been looking for something to post about. The Vancouver road trip was wonderful, but tonight is not the night to share anything about that, I don't think.

Anyways, back on topic. Taking pictures. Or having pictures taken of you.

Certain people have always bugged me when it comes to having pictures taken of themselves. They're the kind of people who block the way of cameras, or turn their heads, and always avoid pictures because they insist they always look horrible in them and they hate them.

And I won't lie, for a while, a very short while, I was also one of those people. Not even because I agreed that I always looked bad. But because that's what all the other girls did. Reasons for me following them go back a ways, but that's a tale for another time.

But eventually it occurred to me that the only reason people don't generally like seeing pictures of themselves is because they're not used to seeing themselves. Yes, we all see each other in the mirror, but looking at ourselves in a bathroom, or bedroom mirror, is much different than seeing us 'in action', as it were. Laughing, and jumping, and running, and doing everything that can be captured in pictures.

But it also occurred to me that when I look at pictures of other people, they never look weird. Because I'm used to seeing them. I'm not used to seeing myself. Logically, the picture is just capturing what everybody else already sees. It doesn't make me look weird at all.

So to get rid of this uneasy camera feeling that I had created, I had a phase where I took as many pictures of me as I possibly could. All the time. I jumped at the chance to get in front of a camera.

And it must have worked. Because now when there's a camera pointed at me, I don't worry. I strike a pose, make a face, smile...whatever the occasion calls for.

Like most posts, I highly doubt this has a point. But every once in a while, I'm reminded of how...frustrating it is when people are so camera shy. Not even shy. Firmly against it. Oh well. Moving on.

Comment of the night: How can somebody be so self-centered, and yet still have no clue about anything going on in their own life? I will never understand.

I really feel like getting out of here. I want to go for a walk. And yet, I also just want to hide in my room. But I feel like that's not far enough away.

I see the fuse becoming shorter.


"For the amount I'm paying..."

Monday, April 13, 2009

Here we are again

Yes. History class.

Generally I don't like to write here if I only have a limited time in which to do it. I like having an entire night to think about things, and get them down here. But maybe having only half an hour to say what I have to say will be good for me.

Especially since this whole thing came to me in the middle of my musicianship exam, and I can't wait to get it down.

It's almost summer. Almost the end of classes. Only one more week. Not even that, because I have no classes Thursday, and I'll be away Friday.

My point is, the end of my first year of university is very close.

Ever year, for as long as I can remember, I get the same feeling when summer comes around. Maybe I just haven't been able to describe it like this until now.

In musicianship this morning it suddenly occurred to me that I survived long enough to make it to summer.

All year we work through school. We do papers, we spend hours, days, of our lives in practice rooms, trying to find that something inside of us that the rest of the world actually wants to hear. We drink, we party, we suffer hangovers. We make mistakes, and we screw up. We procrastinate, and run out of time, pull all nighters, and nap in class the next morning. We go through times where we would rather just curl up and die than have to go through the next few days. We wonder whether our major is actually what we want to do with the rest of our lives. We wonder whether a university degree is actually as important as it seem, and whether it wouldn't be more efficient to just forget about it entirely. And I'm almost positive that at least one during this year, the same brief idea has occurred to everybody. Would it actually be so bad to just give up?

But we didn't. We made it to the summer, and we're seeing the end of the year.

Because at the end of the day, no matter how beaten to shit our ego is, or how little sleep we've gotten over the course of the week, or how many assignments we have due, and haven't started...

At the end of the day, we still pull ourselves together, pick up what little of our sanity is left from the floor, bandage our sprained dignity...

And we get up the next morning to go through it all again.

Does that mean that I care more about just survival than actually doing well?

Maybe a little bit.

But that's how I roll. And I'm still here, at the end of my days as a first year student. So I must be doing something right.

Ah, I almost forgot the most important part.

At the end of the day,

I have no regrets.


"I'm stressed for you."

Tuesday, April 07, 2009

Even if it's fake

I woke up this morning.

And it smelled like summer.


"I'm really bad at life."
"I love sex."

(PS, new poll)