My roommate from first year got into med school. I know about it because of facebook. And I am wildly, nonsensically jealous of her.
This doesn't make any sense, it's not like I've ever expressed a desire to get into med. It's not like I was trying at the same time she was and I didn't get it. It's not like anything. It doesn't make any sense. And the only reason I can think is that she is- and was- a Pretty Girl.
I think more than anything I still want to be one of them. I want to rewrite my past so I was tall and had boobs in the 8th grade, so I was athletic and popular and still smart, so I got all those awards for having the highest social studies grade and be a three or four star athlete. I want to change it so that I figured out makeup somehow and figured out clothes and came to my adult life looking like the girls who look put together every day.
There's not even an excuse for me anymore. I could do all those things, I know that. This isn't my old roommate's fault; she was always very hardworking and I'm sure that this was no exception. She deserves good things and I'm happy for her. She isn't a bad person. And I could be one of Those Girls too, if I wanted, I could let go of my inhibitions about everything in life and start wearing makeup and dressing myself nicely and fuck, I don't know, going out to drink?
I feel like maybe there's also a lot of pressure on me to want to go into med. My dad is a physician, and I'm doing lab work in a medical science lab, and I guess the other lab I was in was medical science too. I have good grades and a desire to help people and I'm interested in biology and health research. I still feel like I could do it... it I wanted to. Do I want to? I don't know. I do want to do a master's degree, or a Ph.D. I do want to work in science. I've considered a job outside of academia, in industry. I've considered programs to become a genetic counselor and a cytogenetic technologist. I don't really know what I want to do.
And med always looks so impressive- just like law or dentistry would too, I'd imagine. But med always seems to take the cake. Everyone has such high respect for doctors (rightfully so), everyone knows medical school is hard to get into and hard to complete and that a life of work as a doctor is challenging and demanding but also rewarding and part of that reward, I think, is being judged very positively in your community for your vocation. I can't lie and say none of that appeals to me. But I think I need to make a career choice based on the fact that I love the work I am doing and it feels important and rewarding to me. But it still feels like I'm always going to be ranked against my peers that went into med.
I have friends that want to get into med (and I have no doubt they will). Redbeard wants to get into med (and again, no doubt). These people are all smart and talented and hardworking- just like my first year roommate. Just like me, I hope. But I feel like no matter what I do, especially at this point in my life, it's never going to look as impressive. That people will judge them as smarter and more talented and harder working than me (and consequently all the other kids who don't do med or any professional program but instead do research or go into industry, or even teaching, which I guess counts as a professional program of sorts anyway). There's such prestige associated with getting into med, and that's what I want.
It feels stupid but it's human, and I know that. It's human to want to be praised and thought of as a good, smart kid- I want the things I do to reflect well on my parents, too, even though I know it's not my job to make them look good by having their offspring succeed. I know my dad would be happy that one of his kids followed in his footsteps. I know my parents would be able to help me since they're both involved in health careers.
I just... I think about medicine. I think about learning about the body and how it works, and that seems cool. I think about applying that to actual people, and... ick. I think about long days and charts and paperwork, and billings. I know my dad loves his job. I don't think I've ever heard of or met a doctor who didn't love theirs. I just don't know if it's for me and I feel like there's so much pressure on me to keep that option on the fence all the time.
Sometimes I wonder if arts degrees are appealing for that reason. Because maybe if I just got an English degree instead, everyone who knows what my dad does would shut up about asking me if I want to get into med. I know these people mean well, I'm not mad at them, they're certainly not trying to offend. But god, I'm so tired of getting asked and having to answer. They don't react one way or the other when I tell them maybe or just plain out "no, I don't think so." But I can never fully commit one way or the other and it feels like there is always some kind of silent pressure on me to swing towards yes, and I think it's because I'm in a field that's so close already. Do you know how many times in first year I heard biology majors say they wanted to go into med? It's like half the program here has their heart set on being doctors. It's insane.
I think the jealousy too is that like- the hardest part is over, and I think a lot of people would agree with me on that. In med, you have classmates and instructors who want you to stay in the program and will help you out. Once you finish, you can get a job anywhere you want, and it will pay well. You barely have to plan your life out anymore. And that- that- is what I think is most tempting. The security- not just financially, but like, in terms of thinking. I'm sitting here wondering, is it worthwhile to get my masters and then my PhD, or should I just get a PhD, but will that even be useful? Should I bother doing special training programs for biotech? I think I want to work in industry for a while because I like the idea of applying results more than just generating them, like in academia. But what if I take those courses and get in there and hate it? But in academia you have to be so much to the community, you have to teach and research and be involved... Like, if I was just in med, I could just say "all right, now I can just focus on the next two years of class. Then, I can just focus on the two years of"... fuck, is it residency? I don't know how med school works. Then the big decision is specializing, and getting through that training, and more residency, and then you have to start out and deal with hurdles like that but then you just... keep... working. And it feels like you get like built-in job security because we always need doctors. And if you're something special like a highly trained surgeon your job is high stress and high reward and you will always been in demand. Always. Whereas in industry... I'll be competing forever.
I've just had a really bad day, and everything sucks right now and I have one year of my degree left and I have NO IDEA what to do with my life. I know I should just concentrate on my classes and clubs and having a good final year and working hard and learning what I can from my research project. This year I was given opportunities to present which let me learn that I have some good presentation skills, even if they do need a little honing; with help, I was able to design really good, logical presentations and learned what should and shouldn't go into them and that you NEED TO MAKE GRAPH TEXT REALLY BIG and I actually had so much fun with that and felt so confident afterwards. I loved my research project. So maybe I am talented? Maybe? Maybe I'm good at writing too, even if that needs a little honing? I realized the other day when hearing that a program required 3 reference letters that I had at least 4 people I could ask who are all big fancy PhD people.
Maybe I'm doing something right after all??
I still wish lab jobs paid minimum wage, though.
-swegan
Showing posts with label firsts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label firsts. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 15, 2016
Saturday, January 2, 2016
Top of the list
I was considering all the things that happened to me in 2015, and thinking of the most significant ones. If I had to narrow it down to the top 3 most significant ones...
3. Co-authorship
This was something that happened working under a different supervisor in the same lab over the summer. My confidence in the lab also improved and I was awarded a stipend to work in that lab. It was a good summer professionally, I guess? Which sounds like a very adult thing to say.
2. Genetics Degree
There was a moment when I was making my course selection. It was physics, some WGS courses, some biology, and other random things. I remember crying because it looked awful to me, and I had no desire to complete whatever degree this was turning out to be. I'd taken an intro-to-genetics course in the biology department, which had led me to take an intro-to-genetics course in the genetics department (if these are things? I just know the first course was BIOL and the second was GENET), and I realized that despite my previous proclamation of hatred, I really like genetics. Having completed one semester, I have to say it's a hell of a lot easier to put in effort even in the hardest classes when I actually really like the subject material and want to be learning about it.
1. Falling in love
Putting this up here was contentious, but if my ex really wants as little to do with me as he claimed, I'm going to assume he's not reading this. But this is what really happened. I do think I'd loved people before, certainly cared for them a great deal, but I'd never really been in love. It's probably one of the scariest things I've ever done in my life, and the threat of loss is much closer than I'd like it to be. But I don't regret anything. Falling in love was like having a lot of pieces fall into place, and suddenly something I'd thought I'd understood for so long actually made sense, and I was sure. All those stupid songs, and especially all those stupid sayings- if you're in love, you'll know and if you're not sure, it's not really love especially- make a lot more sense now. I've found them to be extremely true. Provided things beyond my control fall in my favour, I have an incredibly good feeling about this. I know it won't be easy, and I don't expect it to be, but nothing has ever made me feel so... secure? Not safe, I've never been more terrified. Just like a puzzle piece of my life fits now. Something like that. It's a good thing, though, despite the underlying, ever-present fear (which in my case is exacerbated for other reasons beyond my control).
Overall, though, 2015 was very good to me. I'm hoping 2016 will be too, but I'm not holding out a lot of hope at the moment. This next semester is going to kick the shit out of me academically, not to mention ... to put it in nonspecific terms, the suddenly not-so-great health of someone very close to me. I'll pull through somehow, but it's not going to be a walk in the park.
Then again... How many times have I thought that before? Didn't I look at my winter semester last year and groan about biochemistry and ochem II and genetics 270? They were hard courses. And I did just fine. I have no reason to expect I can't handle the challenges this time around.
Here's to a good 2016. I wish you all the best, and hope your 2015s are now fond and happy memories (at least some parts of them, if not all)
yer pal,
swegan
3. Co-authorship
This was something that happened working under a different supervisor in the same lab over the summer. My confidence in the lab also improved and I was awarded a stipend to work in that lab. It was a good summer professionally, I guess? Which sounds like a very adult thing to say.
2. Genetics Degree
There was a moment when I was making my course selection. It was physics, some WGS courses, some biology, and other random things. I remember crying because it looked awful to me, and I had no desire to complete whatever degree this was turning out to be. I'd taken an intro-to-genetics course in the biology department, which had led me to take an intro-to-genetics course in the genetics department (if these are things? I just know the first course was BIOL and the second was GENET), and I realized that despite my previous proclamation of hatred, I really like genetics. Having completed one semester, I have to say it's a hell of a lot easier to put in effort even in the hardest classes when I actually really like the subject material and want to be learning about it.
1. Falling in love
Putting this up here was contentious, but if my ex really wants as little to do with me as he claimed, I'm going to assume he's not reading this. But this is what really happened. I do think I'd loved people before, certainly cared for them a great deal, but I'd never really been in love. It's probably one of the scariest things I've ever done in my life, and the threat of loss is much closer than I'd like it to be. But I don't regret anything. Falling in love was like having a lot of pieces fall into place, and suddenly something I'd thought I'd understood for so long actually made sense, and I was sure. All those stupid songs, and especially all those stupid sayings- if you're in love, you'll know and if you're not sure, it's not really love especially- make a lot more sense now. I've found them to be extremely true. Provided things beyond my control fall in my favour, I have an incredibly good feeling about this. I know it won't be easy, and I don't expect it to be, but nothing has ever made me feel so... secure? Not safe, I've never been more terrified. Just like a puzzle piece of my life fits now. Something like that. It's a good thing, though, despite the underlying, ever-present fear (which in my case is exacerbated for other reasons beyond my control).
Overall, though, 2015 was very good to me. I'm hoping 2016 will be too, but I'm not holding out a lot of hope at the moment. This next semester is going to kick the shit out of me academically, not to mention ... to put it in nonspecific terms, the suddenly not-so-great health of someone very close to me. I'll pull through somehow, but it's not going to be a walk in the park.
Then again... How many times have I thought that before? Didn't I look at my winter semester last year and groan about biochemistry and ochem II and genetics 270? They were hard courses. And I did just fine. I have no reason to expect I can't handle the challenges this time around.
Here's to a good 2016. I wish you all the best, and hope your 2015s are now fond and happy memories (at least some parts of them, if not all)
yer pal,
swegan
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Wednesday, September 30, 2015
Strict
I'm pretty sure that when it comes to the ideal child, I hit it pretty close.
I know how vain that sounds, I get it. But I'm starting to think there's a great deal of evidence for it. When my parents made rules, I obeyed them, no matter how much my friends insisted it was unfair or wrong. There may have been times when I was tempted to rebel, in simple, tiny ways, but I never did. I was always too afraid.
Hearing the stories of other kids who grew up with strict parents is always interesting. Most of them are online, a few are real life, and all of them make me think that my parents weren't nearly that bad. I was allowed to have friends over if I wanted. When I got a car (and hey, I got a car), I was allowed to go places as long as I told my parents where I'd be going, who would be there, and when I'd be back, and gave them the address of where it was. Which I guess seems reasonable. I know they were just worried. It wasn't like they never allowed me to go out. Freckles and I got bothered about practicing piano a bunch, but we were never forced to practice, though my mom tried several reward techniques. After a certain age, we were allowed to monitor our own junk food intake- not that there was much in the house to begin with. We were allowed to have friends over and sleepovers and eventually, to walk to the corner store alone. When I became a teenager, my mom finally let me ride my bike further than just up and down the street in front of the house. When I graduated, my mom let me go to a grad party at the last minute, despite the fact that a month earlier she and my dad had barely let me out for a different one. I got a cell phone in high school. I had a very decent allowance. We were allowed to hang out at the mall unsupervised with friends. As I got older, they got much more lenient.
But then I think about how I'm so scared of life now. Being here, being away from home, has helped so much; I'm not afraid to get on the bus for an hour to go get my skates sharpened (that was a bad choice of location on my part). I'm not afraid to just walk down my own street and window shop. I'm not afraid to be out when I please. But I'm still afraid. More so of big adult things, like getting a credit card on my own, or spending large amounts of money, or making my own travel plans, but still.
I'm not really sure if that comes from me or my parents. On the one hand, big adult things are scary for a lot of people, even those who had really lenient parents. Some people just don't like to go out and explore much, that's just how they are. On the other hand, I do know people who just... for them, trying new things or giving themselves permission to do something they love or even just find something they love- it's easier for them. I can tell.
I just wonder- because there were so many things I wasn't allowed to do because my parents were concerned, am I forever destined to be the annoying person who worries about everything? "Let's go out drinking! Swegan, do you want to come?" Sure, but I don't want to drink, and how are you guys getting home? Does anyone need a ride? Okay, but no puking in my car. Where is this place? Are you sure that part of town is safe? "Just order something new, like I'm ordering this drink and I've never had it before." Yeah, but what if I hate it? Then I've spent money on something I don't even like. And it's wasted on me. It just goes down the drain, or in the trash. "In order to participate in this, you're gonna need to have [things I do not currently own]." Okay, but I don't really know if I like this yet. Am I sure I want to buy all this stuff? What if I hate it? Then I've wasted a bunch of money and now I have crap I don't need and will never use taking up space. "So just sell it online." How? Don't you have to make an account somewhere? How do I meet up with people? How do I decide on a price? What if they're creepy? It's better just to not bother, then I don't have to worry at all. "Just get a credit card." Okay, but I look really young and naive. How am I supposed to know if the bank is pulling a fast one over me? How do I know if I'm getting a shitty deal that will end up costing me money? And how do I pay that off? Isn't it time consuming? I'd have to go to the bank... I'll just do it later. "Skating hours are Sunday from 3-4:45." Okay, but those hours are prime homework time for me. I really want to skate, but... school's gotta come first. I'll see how it looks next Sunday... ooh, but wait, I won't be here. Well, maybe the Sunday after? (Then I consequently forget). "Come hang out." But I have all this stuff I want to get done so I'm not up working until 11. I need to get enough sleep. If I don't, I get dizzy and grumpy and it's no fun at all. Plus I want to make sure I study adequately for this exam. I have to get these things done. I have to get SOMETHING done, I haven't done anything all day.
Do you see what I mean? I never let myself do anything. And it sounds a bit like my worries are overwhelming the way I've phrased it, but they're really not. This is just how I think. This is how I operate. Unless I can completely justify doing something 100%, unless I'm completely (or reasonably) sure it's a good idea, unless I'm totally convinced there's really no chance of it messing my life up or ME messing my life up, I just won't do it. And sometimes it doesn't really matter, like when I order my favourite thing at a restaurant all the time, but other times it does, like when I can't get a credit card and thus still haven't built up any credit at all.
Sometimes I think it helps to think of all the things I just do now that my parents are none the wiser about. They don't know my study habits, or my eating habits. They don't know that sometimes I leave my building at 10:30 and walk down the dark alley to Safeway. They don't know that sometimes I go for walks in the river valley and get lost. They don't know that I rode the bus into the north end of town for an hour, maybe into a questionable area, just to get my skates sharpened. They... well, okay, they know I took the bus home from the airport instead of just calling a cab. I just... I know these are stupid, tiny little things. I do. But to be able to live my life, at least in part, like it's really mine, like I get to decide how I spend my time, is incredibly freeing. Which is what makes me think my upbringing was "strict" in any way at all.
I know I'm still a stick in the mud, despite the fact that I know people don't hate me. People like me, but they also find me amusing. I worry about everything. Constantly. I can't stop it. I don't really want to. I didn't spend my teenage years running about, doing what I wanted to. I spent a lot of them at home, in my room, doing homework (there's the other thing- I was and remain a very boringly good student. In science, no less).
This may explain why I found it so wonderful when I was finally allowed to drive myself to school, even though I was still late. For some reason, being late when it was my fault didn't give me nearly as much anxiety as when I was late and exactly who was at fault was less clear. Because driving myself to school allowed me, in some small way, to control my own life. Not to mention I got home a hell of a lot earlier, and my parents didn't have to deal with having to come pick me up.
I'm still not good at this. I think maybe it's just that a lot of other people I know had to grow up much sooner than I did. I was given the luxury of remaining a child when I was still a child. Now I have to grow up, and when it seems like everyone around me is just unafraid to do simple things because they want to do them, I feel very, very lame. Sometimes it feels like I'll never catch up, like I'll forever be a step behind my friends as we progress into our adult lives. Sometimes I wonder if I'm only so intensely self-aware of this because I'm growing up now, rather than at 11 or 13 or 16.
The other thing that I know to be true is that one day I won't have my parents to lean upon. I won't have them around to tell me what to do, even when I want them to tell me. I've gotta have my shit figured out by then if I have any hope of coping.
As for my parents being strict... the issue is best summarized by explaining the facebook rule: I wasn't allowed to make an account until they said so. This is a weird rule; it's pretty hard to enforce (and was considering neither of my parents were on facebook at the time) or police, and yet I never even thought about going against it. And I didn't. Perhaps this says something about my parents' ability to trust me (and I am glad now that I wasn't permitted access to something that permanent when I was 13, oh my god), but I also think it says a lot about me. Or the time my parents forced me to write all my grade 10 exams, even though I was exempt due to my grades (they argued that there weren't going to be exemptions later and I should learn how to study now). Everyone (including my teachers) thought that was insanely unfair, and asked why I didn't just... not do it. And I could have, too; my mom never followed me into the school when she dropped me off. I could have just sat in the hallways or a bathroom for a long enough time that it would make it seem like I had finished the test, and called them to pick me up, and lied through my teeth. "How was the exam?" "Fine." But no, I went and wrote them all anyway.
Long story short: I don't have an ounce of rebellion in me, at least not when it comes to my parents, and I still don't know if that's because of me or them.
yer pal,
swegan
I know how vain that sounds, I get it. But I'm starting to think there's a great deal of evidence for it. When my parents made rules, I obeyed them, no matter how much my friends insisted it was unfair or wrong. There may have been times when I was tempted to rebel, in simple, tiny ways, but I never did. I was always too afraid.
Hearing the stories of other kids who grew up with strict parents is always interesting. Most of them are online, a few are real life, and all of them make me think that my parents weren't nearly that bad. I was allowed to have friends over if I wanted. When I got a car (and hey, I got a car), I was allowed to go places as long as I told my parents where I'd be going, who would be there, and when I'd be back, and gave them the address of where it was. Which I guess seems reasonable. I know they were just worried. It wasn't like they never allowed me to go out. Freckles and I got bothered about practicing piano a bunch, but we were never forced to practice, though my mom tried several reward techniques. After a certain age, we were allowed to monitor our own junk food intake- not that there was much in the house to begin with. We were allowed to have friends over and sleepovers and eventually, to walk to the corner store alone. When I became a teenager, my mom finally let me ride my bike further than just up and down the street in front of the house. When I graduated, my mom let me go to a grad party at the last minute, despite the fact that a month earlier she and my dad had barely let me out for a different one. I got a cell phone in high school. I had a very decent allowance. We were allowed to hang out at the mall unsupervised with friends. As I got older, they got much more lenient.
But then I think about how I'm so scared of life now. Being here, being away from home, has helped so much; I'm not afraid to get on the bus for an hour to go get my skates sharpened (that was a bad choice of location on my part). I'm not afraid to just walk down my own street and window shop. I'm not afraid to be out when I please. But I'm still afraid. More so of big adult things, like getting a credit card on my own, or spending large amounts of money, or making my own travel plans, but still.
I'm not really sure if that comes from me or my parents. On the one hand, big adult things are scary for a lot of people, even those who had really lenient parents. Some people just don't like to go out and explore much, that's just how they are. On the other hand, I do know people who just... for them, trying new things or giving themselves permission to do something they love or even just find something they love- it's easier for them. I can tell.
I just wonder- because there were so many things I wasn't allowed to do because my parents were concerned, am I forever destined to be the annoying person who worries about everything? "Let's go out drinking! Swegan, do you want to come?" Sure, but I don't want to drink, and how are you guys getting home? Does anyone need a ride? Okay, but no puking in my car. Where is this place? Are you sure that part of town is safe? "Just order something new, like I'm ordering this drink and I've never had it before." Yeah, but what if I hate it? Then I've spent money on something I don't even like. And it's wasted on me. It just goes down the drain, or in the trash. "In order to participate in this, you're gonna need to have [things I do not currently own]." Okay, but I don't really know if I like this yet. Am I sure I want to buy all this stuff? What if I hate it? Then I've wasted a bunch of money and now I have crap I don't need and will never use taking up space. "So just sell it online." How? Don't you have to make an account somewhere? How do I meet up with people? How do I decide on a price? What if they're creepy? It's better just to not bother, then I don't have to worry at all. "Just get a credit card." Okay, but I look really young and naive. How am I supposed to know if the bank is pulling a fast one over me? How do I know if I'm getting a shitty deal that will end up costing me money? And how do I pay that off? Isn't it time consuming? I'd have to go to the bank... I'll just do it later. "Skating hours are Sunday from 3-4:45." Okay, but those hours are prime homework time for me. I really want to skate, but... school's gotta come first. I'll see how it looks next Sunday... ooh, but wait, I won't be here. Well, maybe the Sunday after? (Then I consequently forget). "Come hang out." But I have all this stuff I want to get done so I'm not up working until 11. I need to get enough sleep. If I don't, I get dizzy and grumpy and it's no fun at all. Plus I want to make sure I study adequately for this exam. I have to get these things done. I have to get SOMETHING done, I haven't done anything all day.
Do you see what I mean? I never let myself do anything. And it sounds a bit like my worries are overwhelming the way I've phrased it, but they're really not. This is just how I think. This is how I operate. Unless I can completely justify doing something 100%, unless I'm completely (or reasonably) sure it's a good idea, unless I'm totally convinced there's really no chance of it messing my life up or ME messing my life up, I just won't do it. And sometimes it doesn't really matter, like when I order my favourite thing at a restaurant all the time, but other times it does, like when I can't get a credit card and thus still haven't built up any credit at all.
Sometimes I think it helps to think of all the things I just do now that my parents are none the wiser about. They don't know my study habits, or my eating habits. They don't know that sometimes I leave my building at 10:30 and walk down the dark alley to Safeway. They don't know that sometimes I go for walks in the river valley and get lost. They don't know that I rode the bus into the north end of town for an hour, maybe into a questionable area, just to get my skates sharpened. They... well, okay, they know I took the bus home from the airport instead of just calling a cab. I just... I know these are stupid, tiny little things. I do. But to be able to live my life, at least in part, like it's really mine, like I get to decide how I spend my time, is incredibly freeing. Which is what makes me think my upbringing was "strict" in any way at all.
I know I'm still a stick in the mud, despite the fact that I know people don't hate me. People like me, but they also find me amusing. I worry about everything. Constantly. I can't stop it. I don't really want to. I didn't spend my teenage years running about, doing what I wanted to. I spent a lot of them at home, in my room, doing homework (there's the other thing- I was and remain a very boringly good student. In science, no less).
This may explain why I found it so wonderful when I was finally allowed to drive myself to school, even though I was still late. For some reason, being late when it was my fault didn't give me nearly as much anxiety as when I was late and exactly who was at fault was less clear. Because driving myself to school allowed me, in some small way, to control my own life. Not to mention I got home a hell of a lot earlier, and my parents didn't have to deal with having to come pick me up.
I'm still not good at this. I think maybe it's just that a lot of other people I know had to grow up much sooner than I did. I was given the luxury of remaining a child when I was still a child. Now I have to grow up, and when it seems like everyone around me is just unafraid to do simple things because they want to do them, I feel very, very lame. Sometimes it feels like I'll never catch up, like I'll forever be a step behind my friends as we progress into our adult lives. Sometimes I wonder if I'm only so intensely self-aware of this because I'm growing up now, rather than at 11 or 13 or 16.
The other thing that I know to be true is that one day I won't have my parents to lean upon. I won't have them around to tell me what to do, even when I want them to tell me. I've gotta have my shit figured out by then if I have any hope of coping.
As for my parents being strict... the issue is best summarized by explaining the facebook rule: I wasn't allowed to make an account until they said so. This is a weird rule; it's pretty hard to enforce (and was considering neither of my parents were on facebook at the time) or police, and yet I never even thought about going against it. And I didn't. Perhaps this says something about my parents' ability to trust me (and I am glad now that I wasn't permitted access to something that permanent when I was 13, oh my god), but I also think it says a lot about me. Or the time my parents forced me to write all my grade 10 exams, even though I was exempt due to my grades (they argued that there weren't going to be exemptions later and I should learn how to study now). Everyone (including my teachers) thought that was insanely unfair, and asked why I didn't just... not do it. And I could have, too; my mom never followed me into the school when she dropped me off. I could have just sat in the hallways or a bathroom for a long enough time that it would make it seem like I had finished the test, and called them to pick me up, and lied through my teeth. "How was the exam?" "Fine." But no, I went and wrote them all anyway.
Long story short: I don't have an ounce of rebellion in me, at least not when it comes to my parents, and I still don't know if that's because of me or them.
yer pal,
swegan
Sunday, July 12, 2015
Hierarchy
This whole boy fiasco, lovely as it has been, has forced me to confront a rather unfortunate way of thinking. It seems I picked it up about 8 years ago, and despite how far I've come since then, I still can't get rid of it.
See, I told the boy that he was the first normal boy to like me. Which is, of course, ridiculous, as normal is a stupid concept with no meaning and no clear definition and one that is used to make people feel like outsiders. You're not normal. The reason I said it was because he is the first boy to like me who isn't incredibly nerdy. You know, the video game playing, slightly antisocial, obsessed-with-things-like-star-wars kind of boys. Nerds. Geeks. And I had decided oh, okay, these are the only kinds of boys that I'm ever going to get to be with, and that's okay, they're not so bad, and I guess I'm pretty nerdy too. Only the thing is, there's a lot of girls out there way nerdier than me, and they fit with those boys a hell of a lot better than I do.
But some part of my brain is still 12 years old, because I was phrasing this to myself in the way of normal boys don't like me. They never will. That's ok. Which is fucked up, because what I was really saying was I would really like to date a boy who isn't obsessed with video games but I am convinced that that is never going to happen based on extremely limited past experience.
Those boys that I would be able to date, from what I can tell, were not popular in school. They're the stereotypical losers, the ones that always get teased in movies, the ones that get told no girl will ever like them. My mom used to say that the boys that liked me probably did because I was nice to them, and nobody is ever nice to them, much less any girl, was the unspoken end of the sentence. This was probably true then, but it's an incredibly fucked up way to think now. And through this, I thought, this makes sense: I am a loser like them, I am not normal, I don't fit in. I always wanted to have one of the boys who did fit in, but I had convinced myself that that was never going to happen because I didn't fit in and that didn't happen and it's really amazing how I only spent three years of my life being classified as a loser and yet how badly I internalized it.
If there's anything high school and subsequently university and the real world have taught me, it's that thinking of people in this way gets you nowhere. You miss out on opportunities to get to know really cool people by being a judgemental asshole who looks down at people who are different. And the people I admired, the people I really liked, never seemed to care. They'd befriend anybody, no matter what they looked like or what their hobbies were or how weird or abnormal or whatever they might be. And when I first got to high school, I was still trying to look down on people who might be weirder than me, still trying to convince myself that I wasn't at the very bottom, and I met people who didn't think that way and accepted me as I was and that was a big shift for me.
Now this is happening. I'm thrilled that it's happening, and I'm trying very hard to work through this shit, because I feel awful for thinking this about people- thinking there are normal people and losers- and thinking it about myself- that I'm still not one of the normal ones. Now it comes through when I realize I don't know how to be a girl "correctly", I never did, I never naturally went to makeup and fashion, I never got that. I still don't. So I stand behind these girls in the elevator of my building, with their perfect hair in cute hairstyles they somehow picked up, their flawless makeup done with skills they somehow picked up, their artfully matched clothes, popular yet their own, done in a style that they somehow picked up, and I know girls like that can be perfectly nice but some of them still give me looks like I got when I was 12 and it just sucks because I'm standing there in jeans and a t-shirt and big ugly boots and my bangs are stuck to my forehead, which is covered with zits I don't know how to hide because I never learned how, and my hair is pulled back in a shitty braid because I keep it long and never know what to do with it. And I feel like a loser all over again, and I think, he must like girls like this, girls who know how to be girls, girls who know what they are doing, and then it turns out that no, no, people aren't as fake as I think they always are, people are capable of liking people like me because there's nothing wrong with me in the first place, and people are better than I give them credit for most of the time.
I don't know why unlearning this is so hard. I don't know why I still act this way, like I have to put myself above people who are even more "loserly" than me in an effort to get up with the girls who know how to be girls. Because it's mean, and petty, and stupid, and costs me a lot of meaningful relationships. But it is effort for me still to live in the real world and not look at their world as pretty and perfect and beautiful. Even if it is, I have to not care. My life will not be any better if I figure out how to apply eyeliner and wear those long, layered necklaces, and learn to french braid my hair. My life will not be any better if I go out drinking with them, and party with them, and study the way they do. My life doesn't necessarily improve if I learn how to "be a girl" better.
My life is already filled with real and interesting people, who aren't just pretty pictures. They are their own people, they are kind and smart and generous, and they are real and warm and loving. I don't live on a magazine cover. I don't know why I keep feeling like my life is empty when it's so full.
But this is what's behind all that, behind me just saying "He's normal, and he likes me." He's not normal, neither am I, and yet we both are. We're human. We're people. We're falling in love with each other. I need to let that be enough.
Maybe, though, just maybe, this is what finally gets me over this way of thinking. The boys I dated before were perfectly good boys, they were kind and caring and sweet and didn't wish me harm, we just didn't work. For both of them, I wish only the best, and the nicest, kindest, nerdiest girls who will love all the shit they do.
yer pal,
swegan
Edit: I should probably give those girls in the elevator more credit, too. The nastiest they've been to me so far is just the looks, nobody's ever said anything mean to my face, and they did welcome me into their group at one point. I don't know what kind of people they are, I just know that they look at me like people who were nasty to me once.
And they're still there getting degrees alongside me, they have just as much a chance as greatness as me. The universe doesn't owe me anything for all the shit I put up with, and despite how much they tell you the popular kids won't succeed- oh, they will. They'll be right there next to you. And that kind of sucks to think about.
See, I told the boy that he was the first normal boy to like me. Which is, of course, ridiculous, as normal is a stupid concept with no meaning and no clear definition and one that is used to make people feel like outsiders. You're not normal. The reason I said it was because he is the first boy to like me who isn't incredibly nerdy. You know, the video game playing, slightly antisocial, obsessed-with-things-like-star-wars kind of boys. Nerds. Geeks. And I had decided oh, okay, these are the only kinds of boys that I'm ever going to get to be with, and that's okay, they're not so bad, and I guess I'm pretty nerdy too. Only the thing is, there's a lot of girls out there way nerdier than me, and they fit with those boys a hell of a lot better than I do.
But some part of my brain is still 12 years old, because I was phrasing this to myself in the way of normal boys don't like me. They never will. That's ok. Which is fucked up, because what I was really saying was I would really like to date a boy who isn't obsessed with video games but I am convinced that that is never going to happen based on extremely limited past experience.
Those boys that I would be able to date, from what I can tell, were not popular in school. They're the stereotypical losers, the ones that always get teased in movies, the ones that get told no girl will ever like them. My mom used to say that the boys that liked me probably did because I was nice to them, and nobody is ever nice to them, much less any girl, was the unspoken end of the sentence. This was probably true then, but it's an incredibly fucked up way to think now. And through this, I thought, this makes sense: I am a loser like them, I am not normal, I don't fit in. I always wanted to have one of the boys who did fit in, but I had convinced myself that that was never going to happen because I didn't fit in and that didn't happen and it's really amazing how I only spent three years of my life being classified as a loser and yet how badly I internalized it.
If there's anything high school and subsequently university and the real world have taught me, it's that thinking of people in this way gets you nowhere. You miss out on opportunities to get to know really cool people by being a judgemental asshole who looks down at people who are different. And the people I admired, the people I really liked, never seemed to care. They'd befriend anybody, no matter what they looked like or what their hobbies were or how weird or abnormal or whatever they might be. And when I first got to high school, I was still trying to look down on people who might be weirder than me, still trying to convince myself that I wasn't at the very bottom, and I met people who didn't think that way and accepted me as I was and that was a big shift for me.
Now this is happening. I'm thrilled that it's happening, and I'm trying very hard to work through this shit, because I feel awful for thinking this about people- thinking there are normal people and losers- and thinking it about myself- that I'm still not one of the normal ones. Now it comes through when I realize I don't know how to be a girl "correctly", I never did, I never naturally went to makeup and fashion, I never got that. I still don't. So I stand behind these girls in the elevator of my building, with their perfect hair in cute hairstyles they somehow picked up, their flawless makeup done with skills they somehow picked up, their artfully matched clothes, popular yet their own, done in a style that they somehow picked up, and I know girls like that can be perfectly nice but some of them still give me looks like I got when I was 12 and it just sucks because I'm standing there in jeans and a t-shirt and big ugly boots and my bangs are stuck to my forehead, which is covered with zits I don't know how to hide because I never learned how, and my hair is pulled back in a shitty braid because I keep it long and never know what to do with it. And I feel like a loser all over again, and I think, he must like girls like this, girls who know how to be girls, girls who know what they are doing, and then it turns out that no, no, people aren't as fake as I think they always are, people are capable of liking people like me because there's nothing wrong with me in the first place, and people are better than I give them credit for most of the time.
I don't know why unlearning this is so hard. I don't know why I still act this way, like I have to put myself above people who are even more "loserly" than me in an effort to get up with the girls who know how to be girls. Because it's mean, and petty, and stupid, and costs me a lot of meaningful relationships. But it is effort for me still to live in the real world and not look at their world as pretty and perfect and beautiful. Even if it is, I have to not care. My life will not be any better if I figure out how to apply eyeliner and wear those long, layered necklaces, and learn to french braid my hair. My life will not be any better if I go out drinking with them, and party with them, and study the way they do. My life doesn't necessarily improve if I learn how to "be a girl" better.
My life is already filled with real and interesting people, who aren't just pretty pictures. They are their own people, they are kind and smart and generous, and they are real and warm and loving. I don't live on a magazine cover. I don't know why I keep feeling like my life is empty when it's so full.
But this is what's behind all that, behind me just saying "He's normal, and he likes me." He's not normal, neither am I, and yet we both are. We're human. We're people. We're falling in love with each other. I need to let that be enough.
Maybe, though, just maybe, this is what finally gets me over this way of thinking. The boys I dated before were perfectly good boys, they were kind and caring and sweet and didn't wish me harm, we just didn't work. For both of them, I wish only the best, and the nicest, kindest, nerdiest girls who will love all the shit they do.
yer pal,
swegan
Edit: I should probably give those girls in the elevator more credit, too. The nastiest they've been to me so far is just the looks, nobody's ever said anything mean to my face, and they did welcome me into their group at one point. I don't know what kind of people they are, I just know that they look at me like people who were nasty to me once.
And they're still there getting degrees alongside me, they have just as much a chance as greatness as me. The universe doesn't owe me anything for all the shit I put up with, and despite how much they tell you the popular kids won't succeed- oh, they will. They'll be right there next to you. And that kind of sucks to think about.
Monday, June 8, 2015
This blog is slowly degrading back into public journal entries
My mom, the other day, said to me that she doesn't think I've ever really been in love before. Her qualifications required that losing that person would tear my life apart, and I was stumped. I couldn't argue- not because I felt like she was right, but because I felt like she might be wrong and I didn't know why.
It's not like I haven't told people I love them before. I tell friends all the time, but that's not what my mom was talking about. I love my family, but again, I still don't think that's what she was getting at (despite the fact that losing either of my parents or siblings or any extended family to whom I am close would obviously tear my life apart). I told Ptarckas I loved him, and I meant it, because at the time it seemed like the only thing there was to say, and I felt like that meant it must be real.
Obviously, I'm still sorting out how I feel about Ptarckas. I broke up with him just a couple days ago, but to be honest, nothing feels super different. It feels like I can't talk to him as much, not that we were talking much anymore. It's just... weird. I'm OK, which I didn't expect, but this is weird. But more in the sense that I was just used to having him around, which I think is expected of any relationship. And now I don't really "have him around", and it's weird for me.
Fortunately, we both seem OK, but that raises the issue of whether or not our relationship was ever really serious to begin with. I haven't cried about this since it happened (although crying while our relationship kinda fell apart was standard). I remember one time standing in my apartment, and getting so upset at the thought of breaking up with him that I had to remind myself that I didn't have to do that. Now, I've done it, and I think the distance is acting as a buffer.
I don't know what it's going to be like once I get back to school. Seeing him has become such a part of my life, and I was dating him basically for the entirety of my university experience thus far. What's troubling me isn't that I don't know how to university without him, per se, but that I don't know what it's like to university without being that close to someone and having that kind of relationship. I'm more than certain it will be fine. I mean, yeah, it was really great while it lasted. Our relationship didn't end because it was toxic and twisted and bitter, or because either of us no longer cared about the other (nor did it end because I developed feelings for someone else, despite how it may look that way). Our relationship ended because he made it very clear that he didn't feel like this was going to last in the long-term, and that sucked all the serious out of it. It also made me realize that I didn't want to stay with someone if I knew it was going to end.
I'm not interested in casual dating, not interested in having flings with people that I fully expect to end at some point. I'm not the kind of person to keep myself from getting emotionally invested (I get emotionally invested in everything). And I guess that's the good that came out of this relationship, is that I understand more of what I want now. Maybe not much, but something. So maybe that means mom was right, and I've never been in love (on her terms, anyway). It sounds terrifying, but then, so do plenty of other things, like Being Financially Responsible and Acting Like an Adult, and I'm still game for those.
The other problem I'm having is that I still feel guilty about having feelings for someone else, even though it literally no longer matters. There's still a sense of I can't do anything about those yet, I have to deal with this first that was there the past few months, and I don't know how to get rid of it. I don't know what there is to get over here, just that there's something, and I owe it to myself- and to Ptarckas- to at least wait until I feel like I'm fully done. Furthermore, I don't want to try and go after someone else if there's a risk that I'm not done here, and that because of that I might fuck it up with that someone else. That's not fair to anyone.
It just feels stupid to be thinking about this, like how can you possibly like someone else?? you just broke up two days ago!! What's wrong with you? and the answer, of course, is nothing, nothing is wrong with me, forgive me for being human and liking people in a way that makes me want to date them, heaven forbid I do something like that. (I'd like to take a moment here to apologize to the guy on the receiving end of said feelings, since he reads this- I really don't want to weird you out, but this is my blog, and I'm not trying to weird you out).
So I guess I am a little troubled since I broke up with Ptarckas- just not the kind of troubled I expected to be. I was expected melancholy, weeping, that awful, awful feeling of heartbreak... but no. I just feel overwhelmed with guilt, and apparently stressed out enough by that that my back is fucking itself up again.
I'm just not really sure how to navigate feelings at the moment. I'm trying to enjoy the fact that at least some of this makes me happy (I mean, come on, learning someone you like reciprocates those feelings at least a little weensy bit is a pretty good feeling), and I'm trying to be reasonable with myself. Is it normal to feel guilty? Probably. Should that stop me from living my life forever? No, but at the moment, I am living my life, and I'm fine. I have the whole rest of the summer before I even have to run the risk of bumping into either boy involved in this situation, which makes everything easier. Hopefully by then, I'll feel a bit more OK about all of this.
Sometimes I'd like to think that people are right when they say I seem mature for my age, even though it still feels arrogant to think that.
yer pal,
swegan
It's not like I haven't told people I love them before. I tell friends all the time, but that's not what my mom was talking about. I love my family, but again, I still don't think that's what she was getting at (despite the fact that losing either of my parents or siblings or any extended family to whom I am close would obviously tear my life apart). I told Ptarckas I loved him, and I meant it, because at the time it seemed like the only thing there was to say, and I felt like that meant it must be real.
Obviously, I'm still sorting out how I feel about Ptarckas. I broke up with him just a couple days ago, but to be honest, nothing feels super different. It feels like I can't talk to him as much, not that we were talking much anymore. It's just... weird. I'm OK, which I didn't expect, but this is weird. But more in the sense that I was just used to having him around, which I think is expected of any relationship. And now I don't really "have him around", and it's weird for me.
Fortunately, we both seem OK, but that raises the issue of whether or not our relationship was ever really serious to begin with. I haven't cried about this since it happened (although crying while our relationship kinda fell apart was standard). I remember one time standing in my apartment, and getting so upset at the thought of breaking up with him that I had to remind myself that I didn't have to do that. Now, I've done it, and I think the distance is acting as a buffer.
I don't know what it's going to be like once I get back to school. Seeing him has become such a part of my life, and I was dating him basically for the entirety of my university experience thus far. What's troubling me isn't that I don't know how to university without him, per se, but that I don't know what it's like to university without being that close to someone and having that kind of relationship. I'm more than certain it will be fine. I mean, yeah, it was really great while it lasted. Our relationship didn't end because it was toxic and twisted and bitter, or because either of us no longer cared about the other (nor did it end because I developed feelings for someone else, despite how it may look that way). Our relationship ended because he made it very clear that he didn't feel like this was going to last in the long-term, and that sucked all the serious out of it. It also made me realize that I didn't want to stay with someone if I knew it was going to end.
I'm not interested in casual dating, not interested in having flings with people that I fully expect to end at some point. I'm not the kind of person to keep myself from getting emotionally invested (I get emotionally invested in everything). And I guess that's the good that came out of this relationship, is that I understand more of what I want now. Maybe not much, but something. So maybe that means mom was right, and I've never been in love (on her terms, anyway). It sounds terrifying, but then, so do plenty of other things, like Being Financially Responsible and Acting Like an Adult, and I'm still game for those.
The other problem I'm having is that I still feel guilty about having feelings for someone else, even though it literally no longer matters. There's still a sense of I can't do anything about those yet, I have to deal with this first that was there the past few months, and I don't know how to get rid of it. I don't know what there is to get over here, just that there's something, and I owe it to myself- and to Ptarckas- to at least wait until I feel like I'm fully done. Furthermore, I don't want to try and go after someone else if there's a risk that I'm not done here, and that because of that I might fuck it up with that someone else. That's not fair to anyone.
It just feels stupid to be thinking about this, like how can you possibly like someone else?? you just broke up two days ago!! What's wrong with you? and the answer, of course, is nothing, nothing is wrong with me, forgive me for being human and liking people in a way that makes me want to date them, heaven forbid I do something like that. (I'd like to take a moment here to apologize to the guy on the receiving end of said feelings, since he reads this- I really don't want to weird you out, but this is my blog, and I'm not trying to weird you out).
So I guess I am a little troubled since I broke up with Ptarckas- just not the kind of troubled I expected to be. I was expected melancholy, weeping, that awful, awful feeling of heartbreak... but no. I just feel overwhelmed with guilt, and apparently stressed out enough by that that my back is fucking itself up again.
I'm just not really sure how to navigate feelings at the moment. I'm trying to enjoy the fact that at least some of this makes me happy (I mean, come on, learning someone you like reciprocates those feelings at least a little weensy bit is a pretty good feeling), and I'm trying to be reasonable with myself. Is it normal to feel guilty? Probably. Should that stop me from living my life forever? No, but at the moment, I am living my life, and I'm fine. I have the whole rest of the summer before I even have to run the risk of bumping into either boy involved in this situation, which makes everything easier. Hopefully by then, I'll feel a bit more OK about all of this.
Sometimes I'd like to think that people are right when they say I seem mature for my age, even though it still feels arrogant to think that.
yer pal,
swegan
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Monday, April 6, 2015
On Writing
Hey, if Stephen King can write a whole book on this, I can write a blog post on it.
I often wish I wrote differently. Like, I read a lot of writing, I think I know what good writing sounds like at this point. But I can't be one of those poets who writes those long-ass poems you read on tumblr, what with all their flowery language that somehow makes you feel cool while reading it. I can't write good essays, I mean like I write good essays, but writing essays isn't my calling, you know? Like I have the ability to write stuff and not have it sound like crap, but not have it not sound like crap enough to show it to anybody, ever.
I miss it.
I miss writing now more than ever, what with my miserable horrible feelings for people that I feel absolutely horrible about because the key word there is people and not person and I don't know how to deal with that. I miss writing when exams are piling up on me and I have to pass ochem, I have to, so that I don't have to take it again, and I miss writing when it's 2 AM and I'm bored to tears and there's nothing at ALL for me to do on the internet.
But everytime I try to go back, I cringe. There was some period of my life when I could suppress the inner editor, when I was like "what I write is absolute fucking garbage that reads like the worst fanfiction you've ever read except about my own characters instead of someone else's" and it was fine because nobody had to read it. Except then I had to quit for practical reasons and there is nothing else I regret more.
I know, I know. I'm not supposed to live with regrets, and I really try not to do that. I have very few regrets in life. The list is probably: 90% of my actions in middle school, not ending my high school relationship 8 months sooner, and quitting writing. That's it, that's my whole list of life regrets. Out of all the things I've done on this earth, those are the ones I wish I hadn't. But this one really bugs me, because now I am friends with someone who actually writes a LOT, and I am intimidated by it because I miss it so much.
But I look at my writing, which is all YA-targeted (mostly because I did it when I was a young adult myself) and bad. I have read many a YA book (adult books bore me to tears and have too much sex), I know what good YA sounds like. It is not my writing.
Yes, yes, I know, I know, first drafts are always terrible. Always! But the problem with me is that I'm far too lazy to go back and edit my own writing. It's one thing when it's a 5-6 page essay for my Women's and Gender Studies class. It's another thing when it's a 40K word novel I wrote that has the shakiest plot foundation ever. It's much easier to correct arguments in a paper I have to write for class than it is to build a stable world in which two characters would end up going on a road trip together. How would that even happen? Argh.
This whole post doesn't even sound like me. It sounds like someone trying to be good at writing, and that weirds me out. It's like I've become too self aware now. I don't know how to lose myself anymore. Everything has to have structure and make sense and blah blah blah whatEVer, I want to lose myself again.
I want to be able to write that crappy fanfiction-style Camp Lame-o shit that I used to. I want to be able to do that, to get carried away in oh-so-convenient plots that just HAPPEN to throw my very own self-created OTP together every single time. That is my favourite thing to write: create two characters with hella romantic tension and throw them together. What will happen? I don't know, but it'll be fun! And crappy!
My current plans for next NaNo are very much along these lines. I debated just spending the whole of November listening to Shania Twain and writing the cheesiest fucking country romance I could think of, but that became a problem because 1) I know nothing about cowboys, and 2) I cannot spend that long blushing. Blushing, why? Because I would be constantly embarrassed that I would be writing that, even if nobody else ever read it and nobody ever would.
I still need to find a use for that poem I wrote, though. I'm ridiculously proud of it, and I know that I could one day recite it to my kids as I put them to sleep/read it as a fucking vow at my wedding or something (it is that versatile, ladies and gentlemen, and it is abso-fucking-lutely that cheesy) but like those events are like 7-10 years away and I CAN'T WAIT THAT LONG.
I kind of ran out of steam there. I think I've said all I want to say on that topic for right now.
yer pal,
swegan
I often wish I wrote differently. Like, I read a lot of writing, I think I know what good writing sounds like at this point. But I can't be one of those poets who writes those long-ass poems you read on tumblr, what with all their flowery language that somehow makes you feel cool while reading it. I can't write good essays, I mean like I write good essays, but writing essays isn't my calling, you know? Like I have the ability to write stuff and not have it sound like crap, but not have it not sound like crap enough to show it to anybody, ever.
I miss it.
I miss writing now more than ever, what with my miserable horrible feelings for people that I feel absolutely horrible about because the key word there is people and not person and I don't know how to deal with that. I miss writing when exams are piling up on me and I have to pass ochem, I have to, so that I don't have to take it again, and I miss writing when it's 2 AM and I'm bored to tears and there's nothing at ALL for me to do on the internet.
But everytime I try to go back, I cringe. There was some period of my life when I could suppress the inner editor, when I was like "what I write is absolute fucking garbage that reads like the worst fanfiction you've ever read except about my own characters instead of someone else's" and it was fine because nobody had to read it. Except then I had to quit for practical reasons and there is nothing else I regret more.
I know, I know. I'm not supposed to live with regrets, and I really try not to do that. I have very few regrets in life. The list is probably: 90% of my actions in middle school, not ending my high school relationship 8 months sooner, and quitting writing. That's it, that's my whole list of life regrets. Out of all the things I've done on this earth, those are the ones I wish I hadn't. But this one really bugs me, because now I am friends with someone who actually writes a LOT, and I am intimidated by it because I miss it so much.
But I look at my writing, which is all YA-targeted (mostly because I did it when I was a young adult myself) and bad. I have read many a YA book (adult books bore me to tears and have too much sex), I know what good YA sounds like. It is not my writing.
Yes, yes, I know, I know, first drafts are always terrible. Always! But the problem with me is that I'm far too lazy to go back and edit my own writing. It's one thing when it's a 5-6 page essay for my Women's and Gender Studies class. It's another thing when it's a 40K word novel I wrote that has the shakiest plot foundation ever. It's much easier to correct arguments in a paper I have to write for class than it is to build a stable world in which two characters would end up going on a road trip together. How would that even happen? Argh.
This whole post doesn't even sound like me. It sounds like someone trying to be good at writing, and that weirds me out. It's like I've become too self aware now. I don't know how to lose myself anymore. Everything has to have structure and make sense and blah blah blah whatEVer, I want to lose myself again.
I want to be able to write that crappy fanfiction-style Camp Lame-o shit that I used to. I want to be able to do that, to get carried away in oh-so-convenient plots that just HAPPEN to throw my very own self-created OTP together every single time. That is my favourite thing to write: create two characters with hella romantic tension and throw them together. What will happen? I don't know, but it'll be fun! And crappy!
My current plans for next NaNo are very much along these lines. I debated just spending the whole of November listening to Shania Twain and writing the cheesiest fucking country romance I could think of, but that became a problem because 1) I know nothing about cowboys, and 2) I cannot spend that long blushing. Blushing, why? Because I would be constantly embarrassed that I would be writing that, even if nobody else ever read it and nobody ever would.
I still need to find a use for that poem I wrote, though. I'm ridiculously proud of it, and I know that I could one day recite it to my kids as I put them to sleep/read it as a fucking vow at my wedding or something (it is that versatile, ladies and gentlemen, and it is abso-fucking-lutely that cheesy) but like those events are like 7-10 years away and I CAN'T WAIT THAT LONG.
I kind of ran out of steam there. I think I've said all I want to say on that topic for right now.
yer pal,
swegan
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Friday, February 20, 2015
Self esteem
Since my last post, things have improved. I downloaded a calorie tracking app for a while (which was more difficult to use than I thought, since finding items to add was often a game of "close enough"), which was interesting in that I could see where most of my calories were going. I've since stopped using it because I'm lazy and entering all the food I eat into my phone takes too long and I can't remember to do it. Also because I found that I now have a better understanding of the caloric content of things and how I typically eat, and when I do not buy junk food all the damn time, I actually eat really well.
Anyway, the only two "rules" I have applied are
1) Only buy junk food on the weekends
2) Don't take the bus to class unless you are running late or it is hella freezing outside
And they work for me. They are beyond easy to incorporate into my life, I have saved a lot of money, and I get quite a few steps in a day.
Also, on a note that seems tangential but isn't, I've recently become slightly obsessed with The Mindy Project (which is hilarious and awesome and adorable, by the way, and you should all watch it), and one of the lines from the show really stuck with me. I feel ridiculous thinking it, but I like the line "You're a woman, and that's good. Look like a woman." It's a good line (delivered in a very cute way, might I add), and it was kind of like a slap in the face for me, in the way where I was like "jesus what am I so worried about, I am fine."
On another note, I realized today how much I have learned in university. This came from two incidents:
1) My sister reading me the ingredients on a nail polish bottle and me realizing that my knowledge of organic (and okay, general) chemistry meant I could roughly picture a lot of the things in my head. Ethyl acetate? Hey, we use that in the lab! You can write EtoAc as an abbreviation! It was kind of nice to know that I have that knowledge. I can identify molecules. It's not super useful, but I can still do it. That is a thing I have learned.
2) My sister reading the last half of my psych chapter out to me (I even got an interesting idea for a paper during this, which I did not write down because I am an idiot). She said that it was mostly gibberish to her, but it all made perfect sense to me. Describing studies, results, and ethical implications of psychological treatments, and the biological methods of treating psychological disorders, and a bit about preventative stuff. I mean, I know it's first year psych, and that's not that big of a deal, but I still felt smart.
There was recently a confession posted on my university's confession page on fb about how science students often neglect getting a real education from someone who felt like they weren't learning anything in a science degree and so switched into a humanities one and felt much more educated. I find that bizarre, because in my 1.5 and a bit years of a science degree, I feel like I've learned a shitton of stuff and it is great. I know so much crap about a bunch of things, and I get to learn even more, and I get to study whatever I want. I really feel very lucky that I get to go to university, and a good one at that.
I think the best part is when my classes overlap. This has happened mostly between my science courses (ochem II, a basic genetics course, and intro to biochem) and then between my arts courses (psych II, which I hate because it is beyond boring to me, and my prof doesn't help, and women's and gender studies, which, though philosophy based, is finally being taught in a way that I can understand). I love it when that happens, because it means that I'm thinking about all the things I've learned and putting them together to learn even more. It's great when we learn about the repair of deaminated bases and T-T dimers in genetics, because I know what those things look like thanks to biochem. We can talk about the forces holding DNA and proteins together in biochemistry, and I understand how they work because I've taken and am taking organic chemistry. Everything builds on everything else and it is wonderful. I might just be learning the basics of science, but they're still very interesting.
So yeah, I've been feeling pretty smart and pretty lately. It's a nice trend, and one that I hope will continue. I'm also thankful that I've been put in an environment that encourages the development of both of those traits.
yer pal,
swegan
Anyway, the only two "rules" I have applied are
1) Only buy junk food on the weekends
2) Don't take the bus to class unless you are running late or it is hella freezing outside
And they work for me. They are beyond easy to incorporate into my life, I have saved a lot of money, and I get quite a few steps in a day.
Also, on a note that seems tangential but isn't, I've recently become slightly obsessed with The Mindy Project (which is hilarious and awesome and adorable, by the way, and you should all watch it), and one of the lines from the show really stuck with me. I feel ridiculous thinking it, but I like the line "You're a woman, and that's good. Look like a woman." It's a good line (delivered in a very cute way, might I add), and it was kind of like a slap in the face for me, in the way where I was like "jesus what am I so worried about, I am fine."
On another note, I realized today how much I have learned in university. This came from two incidents:
1) My sister reading me the ingredients on a nail polish bottle and me realizing that my knowledge of organic (and okay, general) chemistry meant I could roughly picture a lot of the things in my head. Ethyl acetate? Hey, we use that in the lab! You can write EtoAc as an abbreviation! It was kind of nice to know that I have that knowledge. I can identify molecules. It's not super useful, but I can still do it. That is a thing I have learned.
2) My sister reading the last half of my psych chapter out to me (I even got an interesting idea for a paper during this, which I did not write down because I am an idiot). She said that it was mostly gibberish to her, but it all made perfect sense to me. Describing studies, results, and ethical implications of psychological treatments, and the biological methods of treating psychological disorders, and a bit about preventative stuff. I mean, I know it's first year psych, and that's not that big of a deal, but I still felt smart.
There was recently a confession posted on my university's confession page on fb about how science students often neglect getting a real education from someone who felt like they weren't learning anything in a science degree and so switched into a humanities one and felt much more educated. I find that bizarre, because in my 1.5 and a bit years of a science degree, I feel like I've learned a shitton of stuff and it is great. I know so much crap about a bunch of things, and I get to learn even more, and I get to study whatever I want. I really feel very lucky that I get to go to university, and a good one at that.
I think the best part is when my classes overlap. This has happened mostly between my science courses (ochem II, a basic genetics course, and intro to biochem) and then between my arts courses (psych II, which I hate because it is beyond boring to me, and my prof doesn't help, and women's and gender studies, which, though philosophy based, is finally being taught in a way that I can understand). I love it when that happens, because it means that I'm thinking about all the things I've learned and putting them together to learn even more. It's great when we learn about the repair of deaminated bases and T-T dimers in genetics, because I know what those things look like thanks to biochem. We can talk about the forces holding DNA and proteins together in biochemistry, and I understand how they work because I've taken and am taking organic chemistry. Everything builds on everything else and it is wonderful. I might just be learning the basics of science, but they're still very interesting.
So yeah, I've been feeling pretty smart and pretty lately. It's a nice trend, and one that I hope will continue. I'm also thankful that I've been put in an environment that encourages the development of both of those traits.
yer pal,
swegan
Monday, January 20, 2014
My big scary park adventure
I got on the bus at a weird bus stop halfway down the street between my street and uni, and I waited there for 15 minutes before the bus I wanted showed up. I rode that bus for seven minutes, got off, and panicked when I didn't know where I was. But then I saw the park behind me, remembered the direction in which we walked at orientation, and headed that way.
I realized it was a bad idea pretty quickly. There was no one out there but me- it's right by a major road in the city, one of those ones that goes fast but usually there aren't a ton of cars. I knew I had about 50 minutes until the sun completely set, and so I finally found the entrance to the park and started walking along a path cleared in the show. When I tried to deviate from this path, the snow went up to my knees, so I had to follow it.
I found a picnic shelter by a playground, thinking that was the place, and then got frustrated and pulled out google maps on my phone when it wasn't. Following google maps, I managed to find the rink after a lot of walking. The only other people I saw were people jogging.
When I finally found the rink, there was a fence all around it and it didn't look like anyone was in the booth of the building where they did skate sharpening and rentals, so I turned around. It was pretty warm last week, pretty much above zero the whole time. I guess the ice was too thin to skate on... I'll have to wait until it gets chilly again and then try. Perhaps this Friday I'll go again. Now that I know the way, I can just leave after school or something.
Anyway, on my way out, I took some pictures, and realized how big the park actually was. Even at home, we have a few parks that are pretty large, but that park just felt... vast. Empty. Sort of like a National Park, and I felt like I was in it all alone as night was dawning. The trees were really big, too, and the park itself IS actually very large. It was kind of nice, though, to feel small, and to realize I'd trekked through that park all on my own.
I'd very much like to go again. But I'd like to actually skate this time. The rink was beautiful, nestled in all that nature. Come on, slightly colder temperatures!
Oh, and a few pictures of the sunset.
yer pal,
swegan :)
I realized it was a bad idea pretty quickly. There was no one out there but me- it's right by a major road in the city, one of those ones that goes fast but usually there aren't a ton of cars. I knew I had about 50 minutes until the sun completely set, and so I finally found the entrance to the park and started walking along a path cleared in the show. When I tried to deviate from this path, the snow went up to my knees, so I had to follow it.
I found a picnic shelter by a playground, thinking that was the place, and then got frustrated and pulled out google maps on my phone when it wasn't. Following google maps, I managed to find the rink after a lot of walking. The only other people I saw were people jogging.
When I finally found the rink, there was a fence all around it and it didn't look like anyone was in the booth of the building where they did skate sharpening and rentals, so I turned around. It was pretty warm last week, pretty much above zero the whole time. I guess the ice was too thin to skate on... I'll have to wait until it gets chilly again and then try. Perhaps this Friday I'll go again. Now that I know the way, I can just leave after school or something.
Anyway, on my way out, I took some pictures, and realized how big the park actually was. Even at home, we have a few parks that are pretty large, but that park just felt... vast. Empty. Sort of like a National Park, and I felt like I was in it all alone as night was dawning. The trees were really big, too, and the park itself IS actually very large. It was kind of nice, though, to feel small, and to realize I'd trekked through that park all on my own.
I'd very much like to go again. But I'd like to actually skate this time. The rink was beautiful, nestled in all that nature. Come on, slightly colder temperatures!
Oh, and a few pictures of the sunset.
yer pal,
swegan :)
Saturday, October 5, 2013
MY EARS
jESUS FUCK BARS ARE LOUD WHOA
But I still had a lot of fun.
CONTEXT: Some people in the building (mostly people I met through my roommate) took me out to a couple of bars because my 18th was a couple days ago. They pre-drank and I'm pretty sure what I had was a cooler. It tasted like orange starburst and was pretty much the only drink I had- even though we played quarters (I think it was quarters? We were spinning quarters and slamming down beer cans anyway; it was fun) (and I was REALLY GOOD AT SPINNING THE QUARTERS YOU GUYS). Everyone else went through a few beers, and I took such tiny sips that I don't even think I finished my drink.
That was also fun because I was sitting straight across the table from Orchid and we kept glancing at each other and I was like BEST SEAT IN THE HOUSE FUCK YES. I am done with trying to not like him, I have the most pathetic crush in the world. Although I do think I kind of managed to flirt a little bit, but that was later.
Lucy was supposed to come over, but she called almost as soon as I went down to join them in pre-drinking to say that she didn't think it was a good idea to go out onto the street we were going out on, that she didn't think it was safe for my first time, and that she didn't feel safe going. I was pretty upset by that, but she offered to take me out tomorrow or Sunday. I'm going to have to pass, because I don't think I can handle going out two nights in a row, and it was super not-cool of her to bail on me last minute. I mean, I realize I didn't really tell her where we were going until the last minute because I didn't even know until the last minute, but she still had like a whole hour to text and say "I don't think that's a good idea."
After that I called mom and had decided not to go out, but after playing some drinking games I was feeling a little less bummed out, so I did decide to go out. Of course mom made me tell her who I was going out with and where I was going and made me give her the number of one of the girls I was going out with and said if she didn't hear from me by one she was calling the police. It was ridiculous. I mean, I appreciate that mom cares about me and worries about me, but, y'know, I am legally an adult now. I could still recite the alphabet backwards without stopping- which I think qualifies me as totally sober enough to make the decision to go out. It's not like she was going to be able to stop me. It was kind of nice to think that.
Anyway, the first bar we went to the bouncer looked at my ID, then did a double take to make sure I was 18, and then wished me a happy birthday. The music in there was so loud omg, and eventually one of the girls I came in with told the bartender I was the DD and wanted a drink that wasn't alcoholic but looked like it was. I think what I got was a fake margarita, and it was disgusting- I shit you not, it tasted like vomit. One of the guys who came out- not orchid- downed the rest of it as we left. I told him later it was non-alcoholic, and he said he could guess.
We went to stand in line at another place after that- I tried to talk to Orchid as much as I could on these walks to places; he and I usually ended up walking behind the other three we went out with and he was tipsy so he talked more than usual. God, he's adorable when he's tipsy.
Anyway the second bar we went to we had to wait in line behind a group of like 10 smokers, but eventually we got in and sat down; the two guys played a few rounds of buck hunter, and then the girls took me to the dance floor. It was fun, although some drunk guy tried to hug me and was like "you know this song!" and so I pushed him off, and he looked at me awkwardly and then tried again, so one of the girls took my hand and spun me away. It was so... I don't know the word, clever maybe, what she did. I was impressed. Then later this extremely creepy guy in a suit jacket was staring at that same girl, and her friend had to spin her away, and then he kept staring at me and so I shook my head, but he just kept staring at me and I tried to zip up my coat, feeling uncomfortable (jesus I was in a pink Darth Vader t-shirt), so he started trying to button up his jacket, and eventually I convinced the girls that we had to move because I was seriously uncomfortable. I've never felt more like a piece of meat in my life, and even after I shook my head no at him! No means no, you fucking asshole.
He followed us over, but there were other people in the way. I think he may have tried to grope some girls after that, and then we had started talking to some also-drunk guy who seemed significantly less creepy, and then they walked me back over to where orchid and the other guy were sitting, and I sat there with them.
As that was happening, after the girls went back to dance, suddenly there were seven security guards pinning some guy to the floor in the middle of the bar. I didn't get a good look, but I saw a flash of his wrist and the suit jacket and I thought, oh my god, it's the creepy guy. Security escorted him out and I felt much better after that. Although the other guy (wow I feel bad not giving him or the girls a nickname- they'll probably get nicknames in the future, but right now I'm too tired to think of any) and orchid were super not-drunk-at-all, so they just kind of sat there and looked depressed. I tried not to look really creepy as I snuck un-subtle glances but god fucking damn you guys I told you this crush was pathetic. *buries head in hands* ugh. I try, I promise.
Shortly after that we went home, although the girls went back to the first place so I walked back with the two guys. We had a nice conversation, and I think I may have called orchid "adorable" at one point (he was telling us what he thought of canada as a kid, okay? It was adorable). I think that was the extent of me attempting to flirt.
THERE WAS AN ATTEMPT.
Anyway. Now I'm at home, ears feeling like they're full of cotton, stomach a bit sloshy, teeth freshly brushed to remove the taste of the non-alcoholic margarita. God, that was so gross.
And I don't know why, but I had so much fun. Just going out and being able to go out and order drinks if I wanted and drink if I wanted and just... it was so new for me and I was enthralled by all of it. It was a good time. Plus, now I'm not so scared of alcoholic bevarages (it seriously took me a half hour to work myself up to having the first sip. I'm not kidding you. I was petrified). Orchid did try to convince me to do a shot though- everyone was like "you're the birthday girl, you're allowed to be wasted!" and I was just like "yeah but this is my first time having alcohol so um yeah nope." They kept trying to devise plans to get me even a little tipsy. I don't even think I was buzzed. I felt so sober the whole time, although at the beginning of the night I felt proxy-drunk-- I was acting drunk even though I wasn't, because everyone else was (sort of).
I feel like such a young adult. Definitely won't be doing that tomorrow night, though. Or probably very frequently. I'll have to work my way up to having more alcohol (I do not want to get wasted. That does not sound like fun. I don't even want to be drunk. I think I'll settle for tipsy, just to see what it's like). I came home and drank an entire glass of water and had 2 advil, as per my dad's instructions. I feel fine now. A bit tired, a bit desperate, but fine. Seriously debating telling my roommate (crap I didn't give her a nickname either, I need to do that) (Lily maybe?) (i dunno) that I have the most pathetic crush in the world on Orchid, though. Although I'm not sure what she'd do about it. I'm afraid it would be weird. We'll see what happens.
All in all- a great adventure. I'm really glad I went out.
yer pal,
swegan :)
But I still had a lot of fun.
CONTEXT: Some people in the building (mostly people I met through my roommate) took me out to a couple of bars because my 18th was a couple days ago. They pre-drank and I'm pretty sure what I had was a cooler. It tasted like orange starburst and was pretty much the only drink I had- even though we played quarters (I think it was quarters? We were spinning quarters and slamming down beer cans anyway; it was fun) (and I was REALLY GOOD AT SPINNING THE QUARTERS YOU GUYS). Everyone else went through a few beers, and I took such tiny sips that I don't even think I finished my drink.
That was also fun because I was sitting straight across the table from Orchid and we kept glancing at each other and I was like BEST SEAT IN THE HOUSE FUCK YES. I am done with trying to not like him, I have the most pathetic crush in the world. Although I do think I kind of managed to flirt a little bit, but that was later.
Lucy was supposed to come over, but she called almost as soon as I went down to join them in pre-drinking to say that she didn't think it was a good idea to go out onto the street we were going out on, that she didn't think it was safe for my first time, and that she didn't feel safe going. I was pretty upset by that, but she offered to take me out tomorrow or Sunday. I'm going to have to pass, because I don't think I can handle going out two nights in a row, and it was super not-cool of her to bail on me last minute. I mean, I realize I didn't really tell her where we were going until the last minute because I didn't even know until the last minute, but she still had like a whole hour to text and say "I don't think that's a good idea."
After that I called mom and had decided not to go out, but after playing some drinking games I was feeling a little less bummed out, so I did decide to go out. Of course mom made me tell her who I was going out with and where I was going and made me give her the number of one of the girls I was going out with and said if she didn't hear from me by one she was calling the police. It was ridiculous. I mean, I appreciate that mom cares about me and worries about me, but, y'know, I am legally an adult now. I could still recite the alphabet backwards without stopping- which I think qualifies me as totally sober enough to make the decision to go out. It's not like she was going to be able to stop me. It was kind of nice to think that.
Anyway, the first bar we went to the bouncer looked at my ID, then did a double take to make sure I was 18, and then wished me a happy birthday. The music in there was so loud omg, and eventually one of the girls I came in with told the bartender I was the DD and wanted a drink that wasn't alcoholic but looked like it was. I think what I got was a fake margarita, and it was disgusting- I shit you not, it tasted like vomit. One of the guys who came out- not orchid- downed the rest of it as we left. I told him later it was non-alcoholic, and he said he could guess.
We went to stand in line at another place after that- I tried to talk to Orchid as much as I could on these walks to places; he and I usually ended up walking behind the other three we went out with and he was tipsy so he talked more than usual. God, he's adorable when he's tipsy.
Anyway the second bar we went to we had to wait in line behind a group of like 10 smokers, but eventually we got in and sat down; the two guys played a few rounds of buck hunter, and then the girls took me to the dance floor. It was fun, although some drunk guy tried to hug me and was like "you know this song!" and so I pushed him off, and he looked at me awkwardly and then tried again, so one of the girls took my hand and spun me away. It was so... I don't know the word, clever maybe, what she did. I was impressed. Then later this extremely creepy guy in a suit jacket was staring at that same girl, and her friend had to spin her away, and then he kept staring at me and so I shook my head, but he just kept staring at me and I tried to zip up my coat, feeling uncomfortable (jesus I was in a pink Darth Vader t-shirt), so he started trying to button up his jacket, and eventually I convinced the girls that we had to move because I was seriously uncomfortable. I've never felt more like a piece of meat in my life, and even after I shook my head no at him! No means no, you fucking asshole.
He followed us over, but there were other people in the way. I think he may have tried to grope some girls after that, and then we had started talking to some also-drunk guy who seemed significantly less creepy, and then they walked me back over to where orchid and the other guy were sitting, and I sat there with them.
As that was happening, after the girls went back to dance, suddenly there were seven security guards pinning some guy to the floor in the middle of the bar. I didn't get a good look, but I saw a flash of his wrist and the suit jacket and I thought, oh my god, it's the creepy guy. Security escorted him out and I felt much better after that. Although the other guy (wow I feel bad not giving him or the girls a nickname- they'll probably get nicknames in the future, but right now I'm too tired to think of any) and orchid were super not-drunk-at-all, so they just kind of sat there and looked depressed. I tried not to look really creepy as I snuck un-subtle glances but god fucking damn you guys I told you this crush was pathetic. *buries head in hands* ugh. I try, I promise.
Shortly after that we went home, although the girls went back to the first place so I walked back with the two guys. We had a nice conversation, and I think I may have called orchid "adorable" at one point (he was telling us what he thought of canada as a kid, okay? It was adorable). I think that was the extent of me attempting to flirt.
THERE WAS AN ATTEMPT.
Anyway. Now I'm at home, ears feeling like they're full of cotton, stomach a bit sloshy, teeth freshly brushed to remove the taste of the non-alcoholic margarita. God, that was so gross.
And I don't know why, but I had so much fun. Just going out and being able to go out and order drinks if I wanted and drink if I wanted and just... it was so new for me and I was enthralled by all of it. It was a good time. Plus, now I'm not so scared of alcoholic bevarages (it seriously took me a half hour to work myself up to having the first sip. I'm not kidding you. I was petrified). Orchid did try to convince me to do a shot though- everyone was like "you're the birthday girl, you're allowed to be wasted!" and I was just like "yeah but this is my first time having alcohol so um yeah nope." They kept trying to devise plans to get me even a little tipsy. I don't even think I was buzzed. I felt so sober the whole time, although at the beginning of the night I felt proxy-drunk-- I was acting drunk even though I wasn't, because everyone else was (sort of).
I feel like such a young adult. Definitely won't be doing that tomorrow night, though. Or probably very frequently. I'll have to work my way up to having more alcohol (I do not want to get wasted. That does not sound like fun. I don't even want to be drunk. I think I'll settle for tipsy, just to see what it's like). I came home and drank an entire glass of water and had 2 advil, as per my dad's instructions. I feel fine now. A bit tired, a bit desperate, but fine. Seriously debating telling my roommate (crap I didn't give her a nickname either, I need to do that) (Lily maybe?) (i dunno) that I have the most pathetic crush in the world on Orchid, though. Although I'm not sure what she'd do about it. I'm afraid it would be weird. We'll see what happens.
All in all- a great adventure. I'm really glad I went out.
yer pal,
swegan :)
Labels:
firsts,
wistful sigh...,
YAYNESS
Sunday, September 22, 2013
Not sure if I've touched on this before, but suicide is a big fucking thing and I need to say this
No, I've never been suicidal, but I did have a friend who was, earlier this year. We're friends more because our parents are friends, considering she lived an 8-hour drive away, but for some reason earlier this year she chose to confide in me. I have no idea why. It was in the midst of final EE writing- I was pretty stressed out- and she just started texting me, telling me about her life and all these things she was going through.
It was a lot of shit. Friends should be nice to each other, kay? If people aren't being nice to you, they aren't your friends. That is always true. Always.
She sent me some poetry once, and that was when she first mentioned suicide at all. That worried me, but I figured she was okay, that that had been in the past and she'd made it through- she wasn't quite okay now, but she was a bit better.
And we kept texting. I think it only went on for 5 days or so, but when I look back on it it feels like it lasted for weeks. In between trying to console her (she had sworn me to secrecy and I was very torn about what to do; it ate me up inside for weeks) and trying to deal with the barrage of IB work I had, I was pretty stressed out and miserable.
I finally snapped on a Tuesday. We had a couple of chem labs that week, some bio stuff, I'm sure lots of other stuff- likely two history readings due with an in-class essay on Thursday- and I was in Spanish class. It was second period, I'd just had chem, and I was feeling a bit stressed, trying to console myself and listing the things I had to do because that always helps me realize there's not that much to do. Our teacher started the class by saying we were going to have a quiz on Friday, and I just lost it. I turned away from the class, embarrassed that I was crying, and someone noticed, and Omnia took me out into the hallway.
She asked what was wrong, and I explained all the school stuff, and she gave me a hug, and tried to console me, and I ended up blurting out that I'd been texting one of my friends and I was really worried she was going to kill herself.
I guess I have Omnia to thank; she was the one who suggested I tell my advisor about it. He worked in the counselling office, so he I guess had some experience with it, and either way I'd be in the counselling office when it happened. (Omnia also admitted she was glad to get out of Spanish class, and that lightened the mood. I know she wasn't taking advantage of my sadness- it was just an unexpected bonus. I liked Spanish, but getting out of any class is fine with me).
During advisor period I did talk to my advisor- at first, in the main area of the counselling offices, with all the couches and students. I started crying in the middle of it, so he pulled me into his office and closed the door and I explained everything to him. He offered suggestions and we eventually worked out that he could call the guidance counselor at her school and tell that counselor that this student was having problems. We looked her up on facebook- thankfully, she had listed what high school she went to. He made sure I was okay, sent me on my way, and called the counselor.
I guess that friend- the one I was so worried about- thought that whoever told the guidance counselor had greatly exaggerated the situation. She texted me to ask if it was me later that day, and I eventually told her it was. She wasn't mad at me, and eventually I think she thanked me. I hope she realized that I did it because I'd finally decided that her life was worth more than our friendship, however big or small that friendship was.
It took me a few days to tell my parents about it. My dad later got mad at me, saying I should have said something sooner and it was stupid to leave it for so long, that if I had been texting her these things, he would have wanted her to tell her parents (who are friends with my parents), that things could have been much worse. That didn't help the situation- I already felt bad enough about that, and dwelling on something I couldn't change was useless. I'd been on the fence about it for days, even looking up on the internet what to do if a friend was considering suicide. The message I got was the same across the board- TELL SOMEONE. Every website said the same thing. Tell someone you trust, tell anyone, but do not keep it a secret. That was hard for me to get past. I'd never felt so conflicted about something in my entire life. I contemplated calling the Kids Help Phone line, but never did get around to it.
So I'd like to add mine to the list of messages that say tell someone. Really. Honest to god. Fucking go and tell someone right now. It's not going to get any better. Unless you're an experienced counselor, you're not going to help them by just trying to be there for them. Being there for them is important, yes, but it might not be enough, and aren't their lives worth more than that?
That was a key realization for me. Her life is worth more than our relationship. I realized I would rather have her live and hate me bitterly than die thinking I was such a good friend. That's the message nobody told me and that needs to be told.
I know the whole thing wasn't about me, and it still really isn't, but it threw me into a colossal funk for the next couple of weeks. I would get so sad for no reason that I would just cry. It almost felt sobering, like up to that point in my life I'd been giddy and almost drunk in my disposition, I had been too smiling, too bubbly, too happy, not serious enough. IB made it hard to get out, but time heals everything and eventually I got back to normal, even if normal was a new and different normal. I'm not the same person I was, but then no one ever is.
From what I've heard from her now, she's doing better, she's gotten into sports again and that's helped. I'm just glad she has people around her now that can support her and help her out and that it's not this big fucking secret anymore.
One thing I do have to say that doesn't sound pretty: what she did wasn't fair. I realize that yes, she was in a dark place, she was going through trouble, things weren't all peachy-and-sunny. But for her to ask me to keep a secret like this when I was already going through the stress of something like IB was really not fair. To her credit, she didn't know how stressful IB was, but still. I'm not saying she did this on purpose to be unfair, but more so that it was what I did- expected myself to go along with her wish that it be kept secret- that was unfair. That wasn't fair to me. I shouldn't have tried to hold so much on my shoulders. It's not fair to have to keep adding stresses to yourself. Don't do that. Please. It's not worth it. Life is short and you can't do everything right, so don't wear yourself out trying to. Please.
I guess that's all I have to say about that. Some secrets are not meant to be secrets and I mean that with every bit of my heart.
I know this is the part of these entries where people usually refer numbers, but I have none to give. All I can say is that if you know someone keeping a secret like this and you haven't told someone (by someone I mean someone trustworthy), do it right now. Forget your homework, your sports practice, all those things you have to get done. Do it now. Right. Fucking. Now.
yer pal,
It was a lot of shit. Friends should be nice to each other, kay? If people aren't being nice to you, they aren't your friends. That is always true. Always.
She sent me some poetry once, and that was when she first mentioned suicide at all. That worried me, but I figured she was okay, that that had been in the past and she'd made it through- she wasn't quite okay now, but she was a bit better.
And we kept texting. I think it only went on for 5 days or so, but when I look back on it it feels like it lasted for weeks. In between trying to console her (she had sworn me to secrecy and I was very torn about what to do; it ate me up inside for weeks) and trying to deal with the barrage of IB work I had, I was pretty stressed out and miserable.
I finally snapped on a Tuesday. We had a couple of chem labs that week, some bio stuff, I'm sure lots of other stuff- likely two history readings due with an in-class essay on Thursday- and I was in Spanish class. It was second period, I'd just had chem, and I was feeling a bit stressed, trying to console myself and listing the things I had to do because that always helps me realize there's not that much to do. Our teacher started the class by saying we were going to have a quiz on Friday, and I just lost it. I turned away from the class, embarrassed that I was crying, and someone noticed, and Omnia took me out into the hallway.
She asked what was wrong, and I explained all the school stuff, and she gave me a hug, and tried to console me, and I ended up blurting out that I'd been texting one of my friends and I was really worried she was going to kill herself.
I guess I have Omnia to thank; she was the one who suggested I tell my advisor about it. He worked in the counselling office, so he I guess had some experience with it, and either way I'd be in the counselling office when it happened. (Omnia also admitted she was glad to get out of Spanish class, and that lightened the mood. I know she wasn't taking advantage of my sadness- it was just an unexpected bonus. I liked Spanish, but getting out of any class is fine with me).
During advisor period I did talk to my advisor- at first, in the main area of the counselling offices, with all the couches and students. I started crying in the middle of it, so he pulled me into his office and closed the door and I explained everything to him. He offered suggestions and we eventually worked out that he could call the guidance counselor at her school and tell that counselor that this student was having problems. We looked her up on facebook- thankfully, she had listed what high school she went to. He made sure I was okay, sent me on my way, and called the counselor.
I guess that friend- the one I was so worried about- thought that whoever told the guidance counselor had greatly exaggerated the situation. She texted me to ask if it was me later that day, and I eventually told her it was. She wasn't mad at me, and eventually I think she thanked me. I hope she realized that I did it because I'd finally decided that her life was worth more than our friendship, however big or small that friendship was.
It took me a few days to tell my parents about it. My dad later got mad at me, saying I should have said something sooner and it was stupid to leave it for so long, that if I had been texting her these things, he would have wanted her to tell her parents (who are friends with my parents), that things could have been much worse. That didn't help the situation- I already felt bad enough about that, and dwelling on something I couldn't change was useless. I'd been on the fence about it for days, even looking up on the internet what to do if a friend was considering suicide. The message I got was the same across the board- TELL SOMEONE. Every website said the same thing. Tell someone you trust, tell anyone, but do not keep it a secret. That was hard for me to get past. I'd never felt so conflicted about something in my entire life. I contemplated calling the Kids Help Phone line, but never did get around to it.
So I'd like to add mine to the list of messages that say tell someone. Really. Honest to god. Fucking go and tell someone right now. It's not going to get any better. Unless you're an experienced counselor, you're not going to help them by just trying to be there for them. Being there for them is important, yes, but it might not be enough, and aren't their lives worth more than that?
That was a key realization for me. Her life is worth more than our relationship. I realized I would rather have her live and hate me bitterly than die thinking I was such a good friend. That's the message nobody told me and that needs to be told.
I know the whole thing wasn't about me, and it still really isn't, but it threw me into a colossal funk for the next couple of weeks. I would get so sad for no reason that I would just cry. It almost felt sobering, like up to that point in my life I'd been giddy and almost drunk in my disposition, I had been too smiling, too bubbly, too happy, not serious enough. IB made it hard to get out, but time heals everything and eventually I got back to normal, even if normal was a new and different normal. I'm not the same person I was, but then no one ever is.
From what I've heard from her now, she's doing better, she's gotten into sports again and that's helped. I'm just glad she has people around her now that can support her and help her out and that it's not this big fucking secret anymore.
One thing I do have to say that doesn't sound pretty: what she did wasn't fair. I realize that yes, she was in a dark place, she was going through trouble, things weren't all peachy-and-sunny. But for her to ask me to keep a secret like this when I was already going through the stress of something like IB was really not fair. To her credit, she didn't know how stressful IB was, but still. I'm not saying she did this on purpose to be unfair, but more so that it was what I did- expected myself to go along with her wish that it be kept secret- that was unfair. That wasn't fair to me. I shouldn't have tried to hold so much on my shoulders. It's not fair to have to keep adding stresses to yourself. Don't do that. Please. It's not worth it. Life is short and you can't do everything right, so don't wear yourself out trying to. Please.
I guess that's all I have to say about that. Some secrets are not meant to be secrets and I mean that with every bit of my heart.
I know this is the part of these entries where people usually refer numbers, but I have none to give. All I can say is that if you know someone keeping a secret like this and you haven't told someone (by someone I mean someone trustworthy), do it right now. Forget your homework, your sports practice, all those things you have to get done. Do it now. Right. Fucking. Now.
yer pal,
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Wednesday, September 4, 2013
Now I'm glad I did IB
I KNOW WHAT A WORKLOAD IS.
All our profs today were like "This is university guys, you might have three exams over two days, that's just how it is" and I was sitting there just laughing to myself like "Oh, prof, you can't scare me, I already had that three times plus five exams over the course of two days, with four of them being written on the same day." Granted, these exams are slightly more serious and take longer to write, but still. I know what it's like to be in the midst of a bunch of exams at once. It isn't fun, but you just power down, stay in every night and study, and make sure to eat well, drink water, and get enough sleep. That was my strategy for World Exams, although I did have this big ol' "Study schedule" which was way too intense. I ended up studying for one subject at a time, and not studying for any paper 3 topics until the night before (because really, that was all you could do). I think that worked better for me, but I know that I was studying way in advance, too- our teachers gave us past exams and there was review in the booklets and we were going over all our books in English- it was intense.
I feel... all over the place at the moment. Sometimes I'm scared and petrified, like this morning when I left math and promptly bought my textbook, only to walk out of the bookstore in shock because it was $130 and I've never spent that much money on any one item before in my life. Also, I was kind of lost in math today, and our online assignment doesn't make sense but we have until the 16th, so I figured there's no use stressing about it until our next math class when we learn a bit more and I have a bit more context. My prof is super great so far, and she clearly enjoys teaching which is always nice.
My bigger classes, too, weren't as intimidating as I first thought. If I sat in the front, I barely even remembered the 500 other kids behind me and it was fine. The girl next to me- we exchanged numbers and emails for notes- was also super nice, although I think I mentioned that in my last post. Chem I raced to and then I promptly got a seat right in the front row- good thing, too, because that prof is kinda quiet. The only problem is that where I have philosophy tomorrow is under construction and the prof hasn't posted anything about where we're supposed to go. I figure I can ask tomorrow- philosophy is my only class and it doesn't start until 2! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
I mean that only applies for the next couple of weeks but whatever. I will appreciate it while I can.
I just... what I learned from IB is that I can handle it and that if I feel like crying I just need to stop and calm down and focus for a minute. When I organize my thoughts and sort out what I can and can't get done right away, I always feel a little better. Like today after my science classes I was all panicky and grumpy, but then I stopped to eat lunch and organize myself and realized that all I could really do at the moment was buy the rest of my books and go back to my apartment and get everything together. So that's what I did... albeit I did not get my chem lab manual because I stood in line for half an hour holding some really heavy books with a 15 minute walk in the hot sun looming ahead of me, so I kind of just thought "nah, I can get my chem lab manual tomorrow, I'm exhausted and hungry and just so done with being here today." Not to mention the bookstore bag sucked, so I had to carry my books as books or else the bag would have ripped.
I read some chem, wrote down my test dates, organized my room... I'm feeling pretty okay about life right now. Not to mention I got to go hang out with some of my roommate's friends for a while. They kept offering me alcohol, even when I explained that I was 17 and so legally couldn't drink, but I stuck to my guns and just had water. I've never had alcohol before and I didn't know anyone, so I didn't think that was a safe time to start drinking. It was pretty fun- they were playing Jenga, but every time you drew a block it had a game written on the bottom- most were drinking games. However, there was one block labelled "Santa" where you had to go and sit on someone's lap and I really didn't want to do that, so I left after a few rounds. Not to mention it was hella hot and sweaty in there and I needed a shower. Too bad one of my roommate's friends was actually kind of cute (this being a male friend, to clarify). He seems pretty smart, pretty... well, nerdy (like me- he said he didn't drink at all in high school until grad), and he was pretty quiet. I dunno. Right now obviously isn't the right time for me to date anyone (AS IF THAT WOULD EVEN HAPPEN HAHAHA) (I would date me. I am super fine. But for some reason I don't think I know anyone else who would date me) (FEMALE FRIENDS DO NOT COUNT) (ilu guys tho), but who says I can't have crushes on people? Crushes are fun. And nervewracking. And stupid. I love them. They're fantastic and horrible all at once.
ANYway... I'm going to try to watch an episode of Glee on Netflix and see how the internet responds. Away!
yer pal,
swegan :)
All our profs today were like "This is university guys, you might have three exams over two days, that's just how it is" and I was sitting there just laughing to myself like "Oh, prof, you can't scare me, I already had that three times plus five exams over the course of two days, with four of them being written on the same day." Granted, these exams are slightly more serious and take longer to write, but still. I know what it's like to be in the midst of a bunch of exams at once. It isn't fun, but you just power down, stay in every night and study, and make sure to eat well, drink water, and get enough sleep. That was my strategy for World Exams, although I did have this big ol' "Study schedule" which was way too intense. I ended up studying for one subject at a time, and not studying for any paper 3 topics until the night before (because really, that was all you could do). I think that worked better for me, but I know that I was studying way in advance, too- our teachers gave us past exams and there was review in the booklets and we were going over all our books in English- it was intense.
I feel... all over the place at the moment. Sometimes I'm scared and petrified, like this morning when I left math and promptly bought my textbook, only to walk out of the bookstore in shock because it was $130 and I've never spent that much money on any one item before in my life. Also, I was kind of lost in math today, and our online assignment doesn't make sense but we have until the 16th, so I figured there's no use stressing about it until our next math class when we learn a bit more and I have a bit more context. My prof is super great so far, and she clearly enjoys teaching which is always nice.
My bigger classes, too, weren't as intimidating as I first thought. If I sat in the front, I barely even remembered the 500 other kids behind me and it was fine. The girl next to me- we exchanged numbers and emails for notes- was also super nice, although I think I mentioned that in my last post. Chem I raced to and then I promptly got a seat right in the front row- good thing, too, because that prof is kinda quiet. The only problem is that where I have philosophy tomorrow is under construction and the prof hasn't posted anything about where we're supposed to go. I figure I can ask tomorrow- philosophy is my only class and it doesn't start until 2! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
I mean that only applies for the next couple of weeks but whatever. I will appreciate it while I can.
I just... what I learned from IB is that I can handle it and that if I feel like crying I just need to stop and calm down and focus for a minute. When I organize my thoughts and sort out what I can and can't get done right away, I always feel a little better. Like today after my science classes I was all panicky and grumpy, but then I stopped to eat lunch and organize myself and realized that all I could really do at the moment was buy the rest of my books and go back to my apartment and get everything together. So that's what I did... albeit I did not get my chem lab manual because I stood in line for half an hour holding some really heavy books with a 15 minute walk in the hot sun looming ahead of me, so I kind of just thought "nah, I can get my chem lab manual tomorrow, I'm exhausted and hungry and just so done with being here today." Not to mention the bookstore bag sucked, so I had to carry my books as books or else the bag would have ripped.
I read some chem, wrote down my test dates, organized my room... I'm feeling pretty okay about life right now. Not to mention I got to go hang out with some of my roommate's friends for a while. They kept offering me alcohol, even when I explained that I was 17 and so legally couldn't drink, but I stuck to my guns and just had water. I've never had alcohol before and I didn't know anyone, so I didn't think that was a safe time to start drinking. It was pretty fun- they were playing Jenga, but every time you drew a block it had a game written on the bottom- most were drinking games. However, there was one block labelled "Santa" where you had to go and sit on someone's lap and I really didn't want to do that, so I left after a few rounds. Not to mention it was hella hot and sweaty in there and I needed a shower. Too bad one of my roommate's friends was actually kind of cute (this being a male friend, to clarify). He seems pretty smart, pretty... well, nerdy (like me- he said he didn't drink at all in high school until grad), and he was pretty quiet. I dunno. Right now obviously isn't the right time for me to date anyone (AS IF THAT WOULD EVEN HAPPEN HAHAHA) (I would date me. I am super fine. But for some reason I don't think I know anyone else who would date me) (FEMALE FRIENDS DO NOT COUNT) (ilu guys tho), but who says I can't have crushes on people? Crushes are fun. And nervewracking. And stupid. I love them. They're fantastic and horrible all at once.
ANYway... I'm going to try to watch an episode of Glee on Netflix and see how the internet responds. Away!
yer pal,
swegan :)
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
Holy feminsm
So today was bascially just more orientation finished off with the president's address (which was amazing and super fun, btw). We also went to clubs fair- I think I'll join the dance team, but outside of that I'm not sure. Maybe Amnesty international, although I tried that before and I wasn't very good at it. There's also this space exploration technology or something club (it had a specific name but I can't remember what it was) that I put my email down for. It looked so cool, I couldn't help it. So I think that's at least two clubs- probably plenty for me. The outdoors club looks too expensive and time consuming (although it does look pretty fun), and I didn't really see anything else. I was extremely disappointed not to see any writing clubs or feminist clubs of any sort (although the sexual assault center had a table with some posters, zines, and brochures on it although there was no one behind it- I mean it was still something I guess).
I went to the computers and libraries seminar- very helpful- and then I went to the one called "Party smart and sexy" AND IT WAS SO FUCKING FANTASTIC OMG. I thought they were just going to be like "this is how you drink safely and don't rape" but it went so much further than that- they talked about slut shaming, sexual harrassment, victim blaming, date/acquaintance rape, STIs, communication in relationships... it was so fabulous it made the feminist inside me cry tears of joy. FINALLY OTHER PEOPLE TALKING ABOUT THIS! Plus the whole thing- all the seminars were skits- was based on how i met your mother, which made it better. They even changed Marshall to Marsha, so that they could touch on gay relationships briefly. It was so fantastic and I swear I almost cried from being so happy that this was happening and other people were in the room hearing it and hopefully taking it seriously and just GAH SO MUCH YAY.
They also gave out little swag-bag featuring pieces of paper with information about consent, campus resources, a little zine about online resources and books to check out, and info about which birth control types were covered by the university health insurance. Oh, and a condom. And a dental dam. So... yay? I'm assuming these things will not be used by me probably until next year at the earliest, but I guess it's always good to be prepared...?
We got to learn cheers today, too- I loved the ones for the faculty of science (my faculty). A particular favourite line of mine was "Don't you get on our bad side/ Or we'll slip you cyanide" and I was also a fan of the one where awesome was spelled "S!CI!EN!CE!" and just everything about it was fabulous. The nurses and the engineers also had a rivalry going on... it was fun to watch because the engineering cheers were all deep voiced since mostly guys go into engineering, and then the nurses would answer with their much higher pitched cheers, since nursing was mostly female.
Ooh, and they had a free barbecue for the Science faculty today, so haha to those other faculties, we got free food AND free swag. So much free swag, oh my god. Not to mention we all got t-shirts before the president's address, but the science faculty got there last when they were all out of smalls AND mediums and I think the larges were dwindling so ALL THEY HAD WAS EXTRA LARGE T-SHIRTS AND IT FIT ME LIKE A DRESS. I suppose if I wash it enough it'll shrink, but I was still disappointed that I couldn't even get a medium.
It was a good time, but now I'm tired, and I do have a class at 9 AM so I should probably head to bed. Just wanted to share some more university adventures and my feminist joy.
JESUS MY ROOMMATE SHUTS HER DOORS LOUDLY WHAT THE HELL. It keeps startling me. She's super nice and talkative and even invited me to come hang out with her friends, though, and I really like her. We get along pretty well. I feel lucky that I got such a great roommate. Things could be a lot worse.
Speaking of which... I really need to go to bed. Breakfast starts at 7 and it's so so so good here.
yer pal,
swegan :)
I went to the computers and libraries seminar- very helpful- and then I went to the one called "Party smart and sexy" AND IT WAS SO FUCKING FANTASTIC OMG. I thought they were just going to be like "this is how you drink safely and don't rape" but it went so much further than that- they talked about slut shaming, sexual harrassment, victim blaming, date/acquaintance rape, STIs, communication in relationships... it was so fabulous it made the feminist inside me cry tears of joy. FINALLY OTHER PEOPLE TALKING ABOUT THIS! Plus the whole thing- all the seminars were skits- was based on how i met your mother, which made it better. They even changed Marshall to Marsha, so that they could touch on gay relationships briefly. It was so fantastic and I swear I almost cried from being so happy that this was happening and other people were in the room hearing it and hopefully taking it seriously and just GAH SO MUCH YAY.
They also gave out little swag-bag featuring pieces of paper with information about consent, campus resources, a little zine about online resources and books to check out, and info about which birth control types were covered by the university health insurance. Oh, and a condom. And a dental dam. So... yay? I'm assuming these things will not be used by me probably until next year at the earliest, but I guess it's always good to be prepared...?
We got to learn cheers today, too- I loved the ones for the faculty of science (my faculty). A particular favourite line of mine was "Don't you get on our bad side/ Or we'll slip you cyanide" and I was also a fan of the one where awesome was spelled "S!CI!EN!CE!" and just everything about it was fabulous. The nurses and the engineers also had a rivalry going on... it was fun to watch because the engineering cheers were all deep voiced since mostly guys go into engineering, and then the nurses would answer with their much higher pitched cheers, since nursing was mostly female.
Ooh, and they had a free barbecue for the Science faculty today, so haha to those other faculties, we got free food AND free swag. So much free swag, oh my god. Not to mention we all got t-shirts before the president's address, but the science faculty got there last when they were all out of smalls AND mediums and I think the larges were dwindling so ALL THEY HAD WAS EXTRA LARGE T-SHIRTS AND IT FIT ME LIKE A DRESS. I suppose if I wash it enough it'll shrink, but I was still disappointed that I couldn't even get a medium.
It was a good time, but now I'm tired, and I do have a class at 9 AM so I should probably head to bed. Just wanted to share some more university adventures and my feminist joy.
JESUS MY ROOMMATE SHUTS HER DOORS LOUDLY WHAT THE HELL. It keeps startling me. She's super nice and talkative and even invited me to come hang out with her friends, though, and I really like her. We get along pretty well. I feel lucky that I got such a great roommate. Things could be a lot worse.
Speaking of which... I really need to go to bed. Breakfast starts at 7 and it's so so so good here.
yer pal,
swegan :)
Monday, September 2, 2013
UNIVERSITY
I now understand how bloggers disappear from their blogs for months at a time. I have been hella busy- busy packing, busy saying goodbye to friends, busy finalizing things for university, busy driving up to university, busy buying the rest of the stuff for my apartment/residence/thing (I will call it my apartment in the future but it's kind of like a starter apartment- it's a fantastic setup and I love it here), busy setting that up, and then today I was busy with Orientation. It went from 9-5 and holy butts that was so long. Tomorrow it goes from 9-8:30 b/c of the president's address and whatnot... and then classes start. I only have three classes on Wednesday that start at 9 AM with an hour break between each- plenty of time to read up on the syllabus and buy books and stuff, I hope.
We had to go to a seminar today called "University 101" which explained how university was different from high school. To me university just sounds like IB but with more study time, and more free time as well. I'm not taking 7 classes from 8-3 every single day like in high school- I have lab classes, my seminars are all apparently nonexistent and I am not required to show up for them (my bio seminars are cancelled altogether), and the only sucky day is Tuesday because I have an 8 AM lab and then a night class that goes until 9:30. I've sort of accepted that Tuesday is not a day for major studying/homeworking. The rest of the days, however, I'm done at 2. I live about ten or fifteen minutes from campus, which is great (this is by walking, I mean) and I really, really love the campus. It's so beautiful and easier to get around and navigate than I thought, plus there's a hockey rink in the PE building. I'm hoping that rink has public skating hours or just free skating hours or something- I brought my skates and I would love to be able to just go and skate around once a week.
I did bring my car but parking is a big giant mess and I won't actually know where I'm supposed to park until Wednesday. I think I have a spot no matter what, but I might not end up using the car much at all so I might just take it home at thanksgiving. It makes me sad to think of not having my jeep with me, but as a university student I have free access to all public transportation here- the buses, the light rail transit trains, and whatever else. I love that- I can get pretty much anywhere for free with a little bit of walking. Plus I live not even a block from safeway and a 24-hour London Drugs or Shoppers Drug Mart or whatever, and there's a bank near me too. Not to mention the street I live on is infamous for being a good shopping street- it's close to the university, too, so there's lots of restaurants as well as boutiques and it just looks like such a fun street to be on.
AND HOLY WOW THE UNIVERSITY HAS SO MANY RESOURCES LIKE SHIIIIIIIT. All this mental health stuff and student help and academic help and even an insurance plan for things like dental and vision... like geez. I have no doubt that I'll be able to get help if I need it.
So... in a nutshell, university is amazing. I am still very homesick for my hometown, because it was quiet and small (or at least smaller than this) and I knew all the main roads and I could pretty much get anywhere- it was so small in geographical SIZE compared to here, not to mention the population's probably more than ten times as great. It's not really a big city here, but it's big to me. Actually it looks like a big city in the middle of a forest- there's trees EVERYWHERE. I love it so much. Unfortunately in the winter most of those trees will lose their leaves, and apparently the winters here are real winters unlike my hometown, so that'll take some getting used to.
It's weird though because I think a lot of kids that go there are from there and I am so jealous of them. They're able to bus in or drive in or take the LRT and then go home at the end of the day. What I wouldn't give to be able to go back home at the end of every day. Unfortunately, home is a 6 hour drive away.
The only other unfortunate thing is that for the first week, the university is all "woo welcome to university here are some events to go to, some of which are free provided you have your university ID and your regular ID because you have to be 18+" AND I AM STILL 17 FOR ANOTHER FUCKING MONTH LIKE UGH I CAN'T GO TO ANYTHING. Plus going to those events enters you into draws to win fun prizes and shit, unless you're a minor like me and can't join in the university fun because you're not old enough yet. Late birthdays kind of suck sometimes. I can't even go out to bars with people for a whole 'nother month and I am very upset about that. Unfortunately I can't do anything about it so I just have to suck it up and stay home and watch netflix and study, I guess.
I'm kind of scared of my classes, though. I can only hope IB has prepared me... and I guess the one science building here is really nice to study in (it's all air conditioned and modern with lots of comfy chairs... and I love the libraries here). I think I've got a study method worked out in my head that I'll try, and I have mucho experience with heavy workloads.
UGH I AM A NERVOUS WRECK THOUGH. There's no time to do anything anymore. I have to do laundry and tidy up a little still and talk with people and go to orientation and then go to class and buy books and read things and make notes and review notes and etc etc etc. I don't like being busy all the time, I like having a nice semi-leisurely schedule so that I can at least have some free time to, I don't know, watch old episodes of Glee or read a book or take a nap or something. But now it's 10:03 PM and I have to go to bed to be up for breakfast at 7 AM.
They say the first semester goes by really fast, though. I hope it kind of does- I'm looking forward to Christmas break and being able to relax a little at home.
Anyway, I'm going to watch a video on the science behind naps now so I can try and take full advantage of them. I should have learned this last year and I learned my lesson the hard way. I need to be able to nap effectively.
SORRY FOR TALKING ABOUT UNIVERSITY SO MUCH BUT IT IS LITERALLY MY LIFE AT THE MOMENT AS A FLEDGLING UNDERGRAD IN FIRST YEAR SO BEAR WITH ME.
yer pal,
swegan :)
We had to go to a seminar today called "University 101" which explained how university was different from high school. To me university just sounds like IB but with more study time, and more free time as well. I'm not taking 7 classes from 8-3 every single day like in high school- I have lab classes, my seminars are all apparently nonexistent and I am not required to show up for them (my bio seminars are cancelled altogether), and the only sucky day is Tuesday because I have an 8 AM lab and then a night class that goes until 9:30. I've sort of accepted that Tuesday is not a day for major studying/homeworking. The rest of the days, however, I'm done at 2. I live about ten or fifteen minutes from campus, which is great (this is by walking, I mean) and I really, really love the campus. It's so beautiful and easier to get around and navigate than I thought, plus there's a hockey rink in the PE building. I'm hoping that rink has public skating hours or just free skating hours or something- I brought my skates and I would love to be able to just go and skate around once a week.
I did bring my car but parking is a big giant mess and I won't actually know where I'm supposed to park until Wednesday. I think I have a spot no matter what, but I might not end up using the car much at all so I might just take it home at thanksgiving. It makes me sad to think of not having my jeep with me, but as a university student I have free access to all public transportation here- the buses, the light rail transit trains, and whatever else. I love that- I can get pretty much anywhere for free with a little bit of walking. Plus I live not even a block from safeway and a 24-hour London Drugs or Shoppers Drug Mart or whatever, and there's a bank near me too. Not to mention the street I live on is infamous for being a good shopping street- it's close to the university, too, so there's lots of restaurants as well as boutiques and it just looks like such a fun street to be on.
AND HOLY WOW THE UNIVERSITY HAS SO MANY RESOURCES LIKE SHIIIIIIIT. All this mental health stuff and student help and academic help and even an insurance plan for things like dental and vision... like geez. I have no doubt that I'll be able to get help if I need it.
So... in a nutshell, university is amazing. I am still very homesick for my hometown, because it was quiet and small (or at least smaller than this) and I knew all the main roads and I could pretty much get anywhere- it was so small in geographical SIZE compared to here, not to mention the population's probably more than ten times as great. It's not really a big city here, but it's big to me. Actually it looks like a big city in the middle of a forest- there's trees EVERYWHERE. I love it so much. Unfortunately in the winter most of those trees will lose their leaves, and apparently the winters here are real winters unlike my hometown, so that'll take some getting used to.
It's weird though because I think a lot of kids that go there are from there and I am so jealous of them. They're able to bus in or drive in or take the LRT and then go home at the end of the day. What I wouldn't give to be able to go back home at the end of every day. Unfortunately, home is a 6 hour drive away.
The only other unfortunate thing is that for the first week, the university is all "woo welcome to university here are some events to go to, some of which are free provided you have your university ID and your regular ID because you have to be 18+" AND I AM STILL 17 FOR ANOTHER FUCKING MONTH LIKE UGH I CAN'T GO TO ANYTHING. Plus going to those events enters you into draws to win fun prizes and shit, unless you're a minor like me and can't join in the university fun because you're not old enough yet. Late birthdays kind of suck sometimes. I can't even go out to bars with people for a whole 'nother month and I am very upset about that. Unfortunately I can't do anything about it so I just have to suck it up and stay home and watch netflix and study, I guess.
I'm kind of scared of my classes, though. I can only hope IB has prepared me... and I guess the one science building here is really nice to study in (it's all air conditioned and modern with lots of comfy chairs... and I love the libraries here). I think I've got a study method worked out in my head that I'll try, and I have mucho experience with heavy workloads.
UGH I AM A NERVOUS WRECK THOUGH. There's no time to do anything anymore. I have to do laundry and tidy up a little still and talk with people and go to orientation and then go to class and buy books and read things and make notes and review notes and etc etc etc. I don't like being busy all the time, I like having a nice semi-leisurely schedule so that I can at least have some free time to, I don't know, watch old episodes of Glee or read a book or take a nap or something. But now it's 10:03 PM and I have to go to bed to be up for breakfast at 7 AM.
They say the first semester goes by really fast, though. I hope it kind of does- I'm looking forward to Christmas break and being able to relax a little at home.
Anyway, I'm going to watch a video on the science behind naps now so I can try and take full advantage of them. I should have learned this last year and I learned my lesson the hard way. I need to be able to nap effectively.
SORRY FOR TALKING ABOUT UNIVERSITY SO MUCH BUT IT IS LITERALLY MY LIFE AT THE MOMENT AS A FLEDGLING UNDERGRAD IN FIRST YEAR SO BEAR WITH ME.
yer pal,
swegan :)
Labels:
firsts,
future,
omg i'm in school,
shitting bricks
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