CAMP NANO IS IN JULY I LIED oh well might as well write next month, or at least spend the month working on filling out that character creation form.
I did some writing today. I got a book a few years ago called "The Little Red Writing Book" which is about, well, writing, and had some exercises in there to do. After getting halfway through the second chapter I started to wonder if the book really would help me get better at writing, but I kinda liked what I wrote today, and so I thought I'd put it here.
First exercise: Take a walk. Come back home and write what you encountered. Try to write so that your sentences feel the way the walking felt.
(Disclaimer: I am shit at writing descriptive stuff. Dialogue is more my alley. Excessive amounts of dialogue)
The walk began a half hour after a thunderstorm had sailed through. The realty sign boasted that the lot was 22.43 acres, and waterfront to boot. Blocked off by a tiny red chain, our only option to see the lot was to walk. So we did.
It quickly became clear that walking was the wiser choice. The road, invaded by the nature that surrounded it, had become bumpy, uneven, even soft from the rain. Edged by tire tracks nonetheless, the centre had become a tiny river carved from the spring runoff. In other places, baby trees with soft needles reached to the sky, relishing in the room for growth.
The road curved invitingly; we wanted to see what was around the bend. For five minutes we walked until we reached the cabin, disappointingly lackluster considering the $2.7 million price tag. The water was accessible only by a steep grassy path down a rocky slope, an adventure for another time. Yet despite our height, I could still smell the lake, carried up the mountain on the breeze.
The return journey was muggy, the sun having returned to suck the water from everything around us. It was the kind of heat we weren't accustomed to; our hometown was desperately dry. Dry heat doesn't seep into one's face the same way heat does after a good rain.
That was as far as I got. I didn't really like the bit at the end, it's not super relevant, and I'd probably cut it out if I were going to edit it. But it's not like this is a piece of writing into which I poured my soul. I sat down and wrote it in probably 15 minutes. Lucky for me dad and I decided to go on that walk. I forgot to describe the giant, out-of-place rock, though, and the deer, and the density of the trees. Dammit.
Second exercise: What do you get anxious about when you write? Looking like a fool; making some egregrious mistake of grammar or fact or argument; getting yourself sued; causing problems for your family? Make a personal list. Sometimes giving names to the things that trouble us can strip them of their power.
That my writing is bad. That there are people out there who write a million times better than I ever could. That people won't like my story, or the way I wrote it, that they will say it is bad.
That I haven't done enough to improve my writing, and by this alone, I am not a real writer.
I worry that I am getting proud of something terrible, that people will question my judgement because I think something I wrote is good when in actuality, it's terrible.
That my writing isn't good, that it never moves people, that something I write will never stick with them, become their favourite.
That when I say I am good at writing, I'm lying.
It's made all the worse when I don't get a good grade on something like an essay. I hold that up as proof that I'm lying when I say I'm good at writing. At this point, writing is about the only thing I feel confident in saying I'm good at.
But when I was 12 and wrote "Nations", when I was 14 and wrote "Camp Lame-o", I was proud of those stories. They were crappy and I was proud anyway. maybe there was a certain kind of wisdom in that- or at least a certain kind of joy.
I realize how repetitive and bad this is now, of course, but again, I wrote this in like 15 minutes. It's still true, though. It never used to bother me that I might not be good, because everyone said I was, and my writing was of great quality... when I was 10, and 12, and 14, for the age I was at. Except now I'm an adult, and I'm expected to write like one- and I have no idea what I'm doing.
There was one time when I was considering entering a CBC writing contest. You had to write a short story- something I don't enjoy- about a particular theme, and there were past examples of winners on the site. Reading those past examples convinced me that I had no chance of winning. I can't write like that, with hidden meanings and people being dramatic and stuff meaning things, I can't do that. I don't know how. I don't know how to be that obtuse. I don't get it. I didn't like the stuff that was up there, either. Like, it was well written, and interesting, but I didn't like it. Maybe because it felt inaccessible to me, maybe because it intimidated me, I don't know.
Was that the first time I'd felt that my writing wasn't any good? Hardly. But it still stuck with me. That was probably also the same year I had to quit nano for school, and the same year I stopped writing. That's when all this doubt crept in and set up camp. And try as I might, I can't get back what I had once.
This is where I should cut in with some anecdote about how I'm still trying and it'll be fine, but honestly I'm just not up for that kind of positivity today. Thinking about this makes me sad. Thinking that I gave up something I loved so much- something that brought me so much joy, something that gave me an identity- for school makes me so unbelievably sad. There aren't a lot of things I regret in life, but that is one of them.
That's also tied up with the fact that when I was in high school, I spent so much of my time working and studying that that became the entirety of who I was, my entire identity was "IB student" and nothing else. And now I come to university, and people have all these hobbies and interests and the question "What do you do for fun?" is far more tied up in what I gave up in high school than I'd like to admit. I used to have an answer to that question. It's like other people spent high school, y'know, doing school but also having fun, and finding out things they enjoyed, and spending time developing a personality. Sometimes I just feel like yeah, maybe I developed better study habits and ways to deal with stress, but god, I'm so boring. What do I do for fun? Nothing. I sit around in my room on the internet. There's your answer.
I know I'm trying, but I feel like I shouldn't have to be. I just want to be interesting. I just want to be able to say I'm good at something and know that I can prove it. I just want to have stuff to do that isn't schoolwork. I'm great at doing homework (ha! there's one thing). That's about it.
I dunno. It does feel good to want to write something, to have even some sloppy things to be able to share and not feel self conscious about (like, those are rough drafts. If I were to hand them in for anything, I'd edit the shit out of both of them at least 3 times). Also, at this point everyone who knew that I once liked to write has basically stopped asking how my writing is going, because they all know it isn't, so I can stop explaining myself all the damn time.
yer pal,
swegan
P.S. oh and hey, writing friends- because I know both of you (Omnia and Redbeard, that is) read this blog- try the writing exercises, if you want. Just make sure to tell me how it goes, because you are both excellent at writing and I'd want to read what you wrote.
Sunday, May 31, 2015
Thursday, May 28, 2015
Plan of action
I'm doing Camp nano next month. I decided this like two days ago, and it's probably a bad decision, but god, I need something to throw myself into.
I'm still trying to evict this guy from my head (last night he was featured in a dream in which he was in my kitchen in a bathrobe cooking cream of wheat, but doing it incorrectly, and so I was arguing with him about the correct way to make cream of wheat. I woke up very confused), and I have noticed that he is pleasantly absent when I am doing things like lab work, or helping Freckles deal with her history paper, or when I'm on a skype call with Ptarckas (and I'm hoping that the problems there will get resolved through leaving the back of my mind to think about them, if that makes any sense), or when I'm talking with friends about literally anything else. Those times are the best. Having this guy in my head makes me miserable, because that's how crushes do. THEY CRUSH YOU.
Hence, the need for a distraction. This is how I have gotten over all other obsessions in my life (and, let's be real, what is a crush if not an obsession, amiriteladies (at least on some level)), using some "out of sight, out of mind" shit (which has worked WONDERS because since I have moved home, I haven't seen him, and that has helped a lot).
I am actually very excited about my nano novel, though. I'm taking a character from Camp Lame-o (because I have like 0 originality and I am done caring about that), and I'm trying to find out more about her via a family tragedy steeped in a little mystery. She's one of my favourite characters that I've ever written- confident, headstrong, and business savvy. She's smart and she's powerful and she knows how to get what she wants, and how to make people listen (and yes, I have been trying very very hard not to write a Mary Sue). She also has a wonderful/horrible habit if playing matchmaker with all her friends (and she is never wrong about the pairings), but she does it out of a weird sort of concern and love for them.
I'm just really excited to get to write something with her at the helm, navigating the waters of grief or some poetic shit like that (I am not good at poetry). Plus, I don't often write sad things. Probably it will have too much happy in it to really be sad because at my core I am like a ball of sunshine and positivity even if on the outside I am grumpy and opinionated and constantly bothering people with my Social Justice Opinions On Literally Everything All The Time
Anyway. Expect frustrated writer updates as I attempt to write a ridiculous amount of words in 30 days for the... somethingth time. It's fun, I swear!
yer pal,
swegan :)
I'm still trying to evict this guy from my head (last night he was featured in a dream in which he was in my kitchen in a bathrobe cooking cream of wheat, but doing it incorrectly, and so I was arguing with him about the correct way to make cream of wheat. I woke up very confused), and I have noticed that he is pleasantly absent when I am doing things like lab work, or helping Freckles deal with her history paper, or when I'm on a skype call with Ptarckas (and I'm hoping that the problems there will get resolved through leaving the back of my mind to think about them, if that makes any sense), or when I'm talking with friends about literally anything else. Those times are the best. Having this guy in my head makes me miserable, because that's how crushes do. THEY CRUSH YOU.
Hence, the need for a distraction. This is how I have gotten over all other obsessions in my life (and, let's be real, what is a crush if not an obsession, amiriteladies (at least on some level)), using some "out of sight, out of mind" shit (which has worked WONDERS because since I have moved home, I haven't seen him, and that has helped a lot).
I am actually very excited about my nano novel, though. I'm taking a character from Camp Lame-o (because I have like 0 originality and I am done caring about that), and I'm trying to find out more about her via a family tragedy steeped in a little mystery. She's one of my favourite characters that I've ever written- confident, headstrong, and business savvy. She's smart and she's powerful and she knows how to get what she wants, and how to make people listen (and yes, I have been trying very very hard not to write a Mary Sue). She also has a wonderful/horrible habit if playing matchmaker with all her friends (and she is never wrong about the pairings), but she does it out of a weird sort of concern and love for them.
I'm just really excited to get to write something with her at the helm, navigating the waters of grief or some poetic shit like that (I am not good at poetry). Plus, I don't often write sad things. Probably it will have too much happy in it to really be sad because at my core I am like a ball of sunshine and positivity even if on the outside I am grumpy and opinionated and constantly bothering people with my Social Justice Opinions On Literally Everything All The Time
Anyway. Expect frustrated writer updates as I attempt to write a ridiculous amount of words in 30 days for the... somethingth time. It's fun, I swear!
yer pal,
swegan :)
Monday, May 25, 2015
You'd be a bitch too
I am so angry and yes it is because of period stuff and I am also mad about that, because I hate that stupid fucking stereotype of "haha girls are bitchy on their periods" like you know what you would be bitchy too if your face turned into a zit farm and you got bloated and got headaches and pre-cramps and back pain and then had to deal with ACTUAL cramps and this bloody, sticky shit coming out of you for 5-7 days, and had to do it monthly for the rest of your life. Don't even argue with me. Anyone who doesn't menstruate doesn't fucking get it and I am sick and tired of having to act normal when my body is just acting insane and oh my god, oh my god of course I'm bitchy, you asshole, get out of my face before I rip off yours.
But nooo, I'm supposed to just go about my business normally, making sure nobody can tell if I take a pad to the bathroom, because heaven forbid anyone know that I'm on my period. I mean, it's not like people can't tell that I'm female. They know I have to deal with this. I don't get why it's so weird for guy friends when I say "you know what, I'm grumpy because I am on my period" like jesus christ, guys, you knew this about me already, what is the big deal?? You don't have to get all weird, just offer me hugs and possibly advil and sympathy and understand that I am not bitchy because of something you did or something anyone did.
Also I find it really weird to be this angry (well, I am not now, but I was a few minutes ago). I am a tiny person (everyone keeps telling me I am, so it must be true), and so of course I'm sure people just think I'm cute when I'm angry (which makes me angrier because just... just do not call short/tiny people cute when they are angry, okay? it gets old real fast and I will lost a lot of respect for you if you do that and I am sick and tired of it) but inside I feel all dangerous, like I could fucking murder someone if they got in my way. I'd like to think that usually I'm a kindhearted person; I obviously take a strong dislike to people sometimes but for the most part I don't do that.
Sometimes I just wish I could be a normal person size. I always thought I was, but no, I keep getting short jokes and tiny jokes and you-weigh-nothing jokes and honestly sometimes that is just a bit irritating like okay yes I get it I am small please shut the fuck up. Like I get that it is just teasing but as I'm sure everyone knows, teasing gets on your nerves after a point. Plus, I have been putting up with this kind of teasing literally my whole life. Some days it is just annoying that I can't be a regular girl height, no, I have to be just slightly under the average, and I can't be a regular girl size, no, I have to have the build that I do, and I can't look my fucking age, either, no, I have to look like a child, to top it all off.
It's all very stupid, of course, but sometimes shit just gets to you, I guess. Plus I'm already in a bad mood to begin with. Like work today was extra irritating both because I was grumpy for period reasons and my lab partner was tired and that apparently makes her chatty and she is the nicest person in the world I swear to god but she would not shut up and like I want to like her but she has this constant need to make conversation and it is like you know, sometimes we can just be quiet and work, okay? jesus. Please. Just. Shut. Up. But I can't say that to her, because that would be horribly cruel of me when she has been nothing but friendly and nice to me. It is not her fault that she is extremely extroverted and I am just... not.
Which brings me to my other problem of the fact of me still having a crush on that guy. He keeps popping into my head, but it's not even in the usual crush way anymore. I just, like, think about him. often. Not in a mushy way or anything, he just comes to mind. I remember a conversation we had, or something he said, or something reminds me of him, or my mind just like, naturally goes there. it's irritating. I know it wouldn't work out, both because I AM IN A FUCKING RELATIONSHIP ALREADY THAT I HAPPEN TO LIKE BEING IN (BRAIN PLS) and because he is also pretty extroverted and likes stuff that I just do not and I cannot really see a universe in which he also likes me and thinks about me often and shit like that. But I cannot get him out of my head. It is so annoying. Like, he's not even that cool.
blugh. I don't even know what the point of this was. Whatever.
-swegan
But nooo, I'm supposed to just go about my business normally, making sure nobody can tell if I take a pad to the bathroom, because heaven forbid anyone know that I'm on my period. I mean, it's not like people can't tell that I'm female. They know I have to deal with this. I don't get why it's so weird for guy friends when I say "you know what, I'm grumpy because I am on my period" like jesus christ, guys, you knew this about me already, what is the big deal?? You don't have to get all weird, just offer me hugs and possibly advil and sympathy and understand that I am not bitchy because of something you did or something anyone did.
Also I find it really weird to be this angry (well, I am not now, but I was a few minutes ago). I am a tiny person (everyone keeps telling me I am, so it must be true), and so of course I'm sure people just think I'm cute when I'm angry (which makes me angrier because just... just do not call short/tiny people cute when they are angry, okay? it gets old real fast and I will lost a lot of respect for you if you do that and I am sick and tired of it) but inside I feel all dangerous, like I could fucking murder someone if they got in my way. I'd like to think that usually I'm a kindhearted person; I obviously take a strong dislike to people sometimes but for the most part I don't do that.
Sometimes I just wish I could be a normal person size. I always thought I was, but no, I keep getting short jokes and tiny jokes and you-weigh-nothing jokes and honestly sometimes that is just a bit irritating like okay yes I get it I am small please shut the fuck up. Like I get that it is just teasing but as I'm sure everyone knows, teasing gets on your nerves after a point. Plus, I have been putting up with this kind of teasing literally my whole life. Some days it is just annoying that I can't be a regular girl height, no, I have to be just slightly under the average, and I can't be a regular girl size, no, I have to have the build that I do, and I can't look my fucking age, either, no, I have to look like a child, to top it all off.
It's all very stupid, of course, but sometimes shit just gets to you, I guess. Plus I'm already in a bad mood to begin with. Like work today was extra irritating both because I was grumpy for period reasons and my lab partner was tired and that apparently makes her chatty and she is the nicest person in the world I swear to god but she would not shut up and like I want to like her but she has this constant need to make conversation and it is like you know, sometimes we can just be quiet and work, okay? jesus. Please. Just. Shut. Up. But I can't say that to her, because that would be horribly cruel of me when she has been nothing but friendly and nice to me. It is not her fault that she is extremely extroverted and I am just... not.
Which brings me to my other problem of the fact of me still having a crush on that guy. He keeps popping into my head, but it's not even in the usual crush way anymore. I just, like, think about him. often. Not in a mushy way or anything, he just comes to mind. I remember a conversation we had, or something he said, or something reminds me of him, or my mind just like, naturally goes there. it's irritating. I know it wouldn't work out, both because I AM IN A FUCKING RELATIONSHIP ALREADY THAT I HAPPEN TO LIKE BEING IN (BRAIN PLS) and because he is also pretty extroverted and likes stuff that I just do not and I cannot really see a universe in which he also likes me and thinks about me often and shit like that. But I cannot get him out of my head. It is so annoying. Like, he's not even that cool.
blugh. I don't even know what the point of this was. Whatever.
-swegan
Thursday, May 21, 2015
Leave me alone
There is nothing more annoying to me than people trying to ask my opinion on something that has just blown me away. A movie, a book, a speech- if I'm staring into the distance silently and not talking to you, it is because I am trying to process. And I hate being around people when that happens.
Just- if I'm really quiet after something, and generally unresponsive, I'm thinking. I don't have an opinion to give yet, let me make one first. In general, the less I talk, the more I'm trying to appreciate something. This is why I refused to talk to friends on several school trips when we saw really amazing places- which of course made me come off like a dick, and for that, I'm sorry, I was just trying to absorb things. (This led to tudo stealing my very nice, brand new, probably expensive umbrella and using it as a cane, in an effort to get me to talk that was pretty fucking childish. Maybe it's stupid to get upset about nice things, but I don't like to wreck them, and that umbrella is now all scratched up at the top).
The reason for the post is having just watched Interstellar, which- wow. Mom kept trying to ask what I thought, and kept trying to talk to me, and dad knocked on my door to say goodnight, and I was just so angry- leave me alone, I am trying to think, but how can they know that, and I don't want to say anything because if I do I'll lose my train of thought. Words make it harder to appreciate stuff.
yer pal,
swegan
Just- if I'm really quiet after something, and generally unresponsive, I'm thinking. I don't have an opinion to give yet, let me make one first. In general, the less I talk, the more I'm trying to appreciate something. This is why I refused to talk to friends on several school trips when we saw really amazing places- which of course made me come off like a dick, and for that, I'm sorry, I was just trying to absorb things. (This led to tudo stealing my very nice, brand new, probably expensive umbrella and using it as a cane, in an effort to get me to talk that was pretty fucking childish. Maybe it's stupid to get upset about nice things, but I don't like to wreck them, and that umbrella is now all scratched up at the top).
The reason for the post is having just watched Interstellar, which- wow. Mom kept trying to ask what I thought, and kept trying to talk to me, and dad knocked on my door to say goodnight, and I was just so angry- leave me alone, I am trying to think, but how can they know that, and I don't want to say anything because if I do I'll lose my train of thought. Words make it harder to appreciate stuff.
yer pal,
swegan
Monday, May 18, 2015
Well, today was infinitely better
I swear to god, one of these days I will find a way to keep nail polish from chipping after having it for like 4 hours. Freckles paints on gorgeous and garish pink sparkles for me, I take a shower (and like half my fucking hair comes out) and now it's chipping. What the fuck. Why.
Today was more balanced. I think maybe I got everything out of my system yesterday. Did a lot less stuff today, but that's ok. That was the whole point of this weekend, to get away, to relax, to potentially solve my boy problems. Have I solved them? Noooo. I'm starting to wonder if there is a good solution.
I can't let go of Ptarckas. I can't. On some level, I feel like there would be a logic to it, but I can't let go. I'm too attached to him. I miss him now, after not talking to him (or anyone else outside of this cabin) for a whole weekend. Powerfully. The thing I notice is that I don't miss this other guy. At least not in the same way. Because while I have memories of being with Ptarckas, I don't have that with the other guy (not that I haven't thought about it, obviously).
I'm just so worried I'm going to regret whatever decision I make down the road, that if I let him go, I'll regret it because not having someone to snuggle with will be the thing that destroys me while everything else is fine, but on the other hand, if I hang on, it could go nowhere, I could leave him when I leave my undergrad and then have all that change happening at once.
I will talk to him about this again, even though it's the same damn stuff all the time. Our conversations just go in circles now. We care, but will it work? Can we last? God, this sounds so weepy and dramatic, like I'm... well, 19. Maybe I'm supposed to get all weepy and dramatic about relationships. Maybe that's ok. Maybe it doesn't fucking matter and what the hell is wrong with me being a weepy, dramatic child? Why does it matter? This is my hurt, I'll react to it how I like, and if you're going to make fun of me for it, leave.
But it has been a good weekend. Freckles and I have been planning adventures, and Fex and I planned a little one for next week. I got away from life. I got through more of my Europe book, which, while interesting, gets a little dry after a while. European history is kind of fun to read. It's kind of like reading really summed-up tales of kings, and princes, and the glory of nationalistic and liberal revolutions, but it's real, it really happened. I'm king of already familiar with this particular bit of history anyway, so that helps, I'm sure. I think European history might be one of my Things, like writing (if these blog posts count then I'm back, bitches), or social justice, or ... I can't think of any more things. Dancing, maybe, insofar as I enjoy it and have been known to have wicked dance parties when my roommates go out of town.
Tomorrow we go home, which is very Not OK since this is literally my favourite place on earth (it trumps even my love for beautiful Ireland), but... ehh. I will talk to Ptarckas again, which makes me happy.
yer pal,
swegan
Today was more balanced. I think maybe I got everything out of my system yesterday. Did a lot less stuff today, but that's ok. That was the whole point of this weekend, to get away, to relax, to potentially solve my boy problems. Have I solved them? Noooo. I'm starting to wonder if there is a good solution.
I can't let go of Ptarckas. I can't. On some level, I feel like there would be a logic to it, but I can't let go. I'm too attached to him. I miss him now, after not talking to him (or anyone else outside of this cabin) for a whole weekend. Powerfully. The thing I notice is that I don't miss this other guy. At least not in the same way. Because while I have memories of being with Ptarckas, I don't have that with the other guy (not that I haven't thought about it, obviously).
I'm just so worried I'm going to regret whatever decision I make down the road, that if I let him go, I'll regret it because not having someone to snuggle with will be the thing that destroys me while everything else is fine, but on the other hand, if I hang on, it could go nowhere, I could leave him when I leave my undergrad and then have all that change happening at once.
I will talk to him about this again, even though it's the same damn stuff all the time. Our conversations just go in circles now. We care, but will it work? Can we last? God, this sounds so weepy and dramatic, like I'm... well, 19. Maybe I'm supposed to get all weepy and dramatic about relationships. Maybe that's ok. Maybe it doesn't fucking matter and what the hell is wrong with me being a weepy, dramatic child? Why does it matter? This is my hurt, I'll react to it how I like, and if you're going to make fun of me for it, leave.
But it has been a good weekend. Freckles and I have been planning adventures, and Fex and I planned a little one for next week. I got away from life. I got through more of my Europe book, which, while interesting, gets a little dry after a while. European history is kind of fun to read. It's kind of like reading really summed-up tales of kings, and princes, and the glory of nationalistic and liberal revolutions, but it's real, it really happened. I'm king of already familiar with this particular bit of history anyway, so that helps, I'm sure. I think European history might be one of my Things, like writing (if these blog posts count then I'm back, bitches), or social justice, or ... I can't think of any more things. Dancing, maybe, insofar as I enjoy it and have been known to have wicked dance parties when my roommates go out of town.
Tomorrow we go home, which is very Not OK since this is literally my favourite place on earth (it trumps even my love for beautiful Ireland), but... ehh. I will talk to Ptarckas again, which makes me happy.
yer pal,
swegan
Thursday, May 14, 2015
How to Be a Person
I'm starting to see people as mashups of things they enjoy, know. Various hobbies, things they like learning about, people they're fans of, what they spend their time doing. Which is probably why I find all my friends so cool and awesome, because they come with a wide range of varying activities and interests and I think that means I've got a good group of friends. Some of those interests I share, some I don't, as would be expected.
Which raises the question of why I find describing my interests and activities so hard. I got asked that earlier this year, "what do you do for fun?" and the question has stuck with me longer than I think it was intended to. I didn't have a good answer. At one point I would have said writing, but I don't know that that's true anymore. I'm trying to make it true. I could say reading, except that I don't do much of that when I'm in the midst of the semester. What do I do for fun?
To be honest, I am the kind of person who needs a lot of down time. I think I'm pretty introverted (though I will almost always say yes to an invitation to hang out, because being with friends is always a good time- always), but more so than that, I think I just... I don't know. Maybe it's something I picked up from my family? We never really do exciting stuff- going to classical music concerts is about as exciting as it gets. We all like to recharge and relax by doing things like watching TV, or sitting around reading and eating. We're very, very lazy. So when I went off to university, I'd go to class, come home, do some work, and then stop around 8 or 9, and then for the next three hours, I'd just browse the internet. Facebook. Tumblr. Netflix. The usual. And on the weekends? I'd waste time on the internet until 1 PM, do homework haphazardly until 8 or 9... and then spend more time on the internet.
I'm not very adventurous, either. Whether it's going on an actual adventure, or just going to a bar, I'm always afraid of what might go wrong. There is also the aspect of me not wanting to spend money on something unless I feel like it's worth it. This has led to a lot of internal crises when debating whether or not to buy food, but also when debating whether or not to get A Thing that is for An Activity. If I don't already do that Activity, how can I justify spending money on the Thing? What if I hate the Activity? I'll just find another way. And then I never do.
I suppose one way to fix this is to ask what I want to do. What do I want to do? I want to see my friends more. I want to go to the library more. I want to bike more. I want to read more. I want to go on a trip- nothing big, just a day thing, possibly a couple of days- with friends. I've never actually done that without my parents before, because I am the biggest dweeb in existence. I want to be the kind of person who goes out and does stuff, who goes for walks in the trees to calm down. I want to volunteer more. I wanna go to more things, like plays, and shows, and concerts. I want to learn how to do things like cook and put on makeup and dance (not all the same time, obviously). I have random dreams of doing some kind of canoe trip through the wilderness and doing a road trip across Canada and down the Oregon coast, possibly to California.
And I know it's ok to get stuck in the semester for a little while, to get stuck in work for a little while. To just come home and do lazy things and get myself through it. Despite how boring that sounds, I like school. I really do. I have for a long time. I like that I finally found a degree I want to get. I like that I might get to do an independent study. I like all of it. I like the school, my building, the people, the city (despite how little I've seen of it).
I think maybe the issue is something like I'm still stuck feeling like I'm a kid, or like I'm 15, or whatever. Like I can't leave my house without getting a ride and I can't try all the crazy insane things I wanted to try as a kid. Like I can't try something I think might be interesting because my parents are with me and for some reason that is prohibitive. I think I need to learn how to live, maybe. Something like that.
This year was slightly better. Went to a couple of plays, a ballet, a folk music festival. Spent a couple of evenings cooking/baking with Carina. Went for more walks. Went out on the street I live on (it's got lots of little boutiques and stores and stuff) more often. Took a partner dancing class. I think that's improvement from first year, where the most adventurous thing I did was go to a bar for the first time.
It's weird to think that I have two years of university experience now. I'm not sure how that happened. I intend to make more of the last two, especially now that I'm familiar with the campus, have some friends, am pursuing a degree that I want to pursue, and am getting used to the "my parents aren't here to tell me not to do something" thing, which is honestly pretty fucking great.
Well, I don't really know what to do about next year except to say that I should attend more of the science guest speaker stuff at the uni... also the feminist guest speaker stuff, since I didn't get to go to ANY of it this year because it was ALWAYS AT THE SAME TIME AS MY GODDAMN PSYCHOLOGY CLASS. And see more plays put on by the uni. And try and go for more walks, and cook more food, and take more dance classes, and find fucking SOME kind of volunteer commitment in which to put my efforts that does not make me feel as guilty as EPASS does. Also, go to a party, because I've done that literally once, and it was a grad party, and I spent at least 15% of it ogling the stereotypical hot guy in school, who was wearing full-body spandex and pulling it off pretty fucking well, might I add (I realized at grad when he said he wanted to become a dentist that he just looked like a dentist and for some reason that was the end of my being attracted to him). Well, ok, that's a lie. My building has had some parties at which I totally killed it with my dance moves. Also I went to a club one time for like half an hour.
The experiences I remember best from this past year are the ones that are different. Something as stupid as sitting somewhere different in ochem, to cooking with Carina, to the time I went on like an hour and a half walk around campus, to the time I got to see The Nutcracker for the first time (and consequently found why Tchaikovsky hated it: the music is beautiful, but the plot is terrible). I think that says something.
ANYWAY. This is long enough, and I have laundry to do.
yer pal,
swegan
Which raises the question of why I find describing my interests and activities so hard. I got asked that earlier this year, "what do you do for fun?" and the question has stuck with me longer than I think it was intended to. I didn't have a good answer. At one point I would have said writing, but I don't know that that's true anymore. I'm trying to make it true. I could say reading, except that I don't do much of that when I'm in the midst of the semester. What do I do for fun?
To be honest, I am the kind of person who needs a lot of down time. I think I'm pretty introverted (though I will almost always say yes to an invitation to hang out, because being with friends is always a good time- always), but more so than that, I think I just... I don't know. Maybe it's something I picked up from my family? We never really do exciting stuff- going to classical music concerts is about as exciting as it gets. We all like to recharge and relax by doing things like watching TV, or sitting around reading and eating. We're very, very lazy. So when I went off to university, I'd go to class, come home, do some work, and then stop around 8 or 9, and then for the next three hours, I'd just browse the internet. Facebook. Tumblr. Netflix. The usual. And on the weekends? I'd waste time on the internet until 1 PM, do homework haphazardly until 8 or 9... and then spend more time on the internet.
I'm not very adventurous, either. Whether it's going on an actual adventure, or just going to a bar, I'm always afraid of what might go wrong. There is also the aspect of me not wanting to spend money on something unless I feel like it's worth it. This has led to a lot of internal crises when debating whether or not to buy food, but also when debating whether or not to get A Thing that is for An Activity. If I don't already do that Activity, how can I justify spending money on the Thing? What if I hate the Activity? I'll just find another way. And then I never do.
I suppose one way to fix this is to ask what I want to do. What do I want to do? I want to see my friends more. I want to go to the library more. I want to bike more. I want to read more. I want to go on a trip- nothing big, just a day thing, possibly a couple of days- with friends. I've never actually done that without my parents before, because I am the biggest dweeb in existence. I want to be the kind of person who goes out and does stuff, who goes for walks in the trees to calm down. I want to volunteer more. I wanna go to more things, like plays, and shows, and concerts. I want to learn how to do things like cook and put on makeup and dance (not all the same time, obviously). I have random dreams of doing some kind of canoe trip through the wilderness and doing a road trip across Canada and down the Oregon coast, possibly to California.
And I know it's ok to get stuck in the semester for a little while, to get stuck in work for a little while. To just come home and do lazy things and get myself through it. Despite how boring that sounds, I like school. I really do. I have for a long time. I like that I finally found a degree I want to get. I like that I might get to do an independent study. I like all of it. I like the school, my building, the people, the city (despite how little I've seen of it).
I think maybe the issue is something like I'm still stuck feeling like I'm a kid, or like I'm 15, or whatever. Like I can't leave my house without getting a ride and I can't try all the crazy insane things I wanted to try as a kid. Like I can't try something I think might be interesting because my parents are with me and for some reason that is prohibitive. I think I need to learn how to live, maybe. Something like that.
This year was slightly better. Went to a couple of plays, a ballet, a folk music festival. Spent a couple of evenings cooking/baking with Carina. Went for more walks. Went out on the street I live on (it's got lots of little boutiques and stores and stuff) more often. Took a partner dancing class. I think that's improvement from first year, where the most adventurous thing I did was go to a bar for the first time.
It's weird to think that I have two years of university experience now. I'm not sure how that happened. I intend to make more of the last two, especially now that I'm familiar with the campus, have some friends, am pursuing a degree that I want to pursue, and am getting used to the "my parents aren't here to tell me not to do something" thing, which is honestly pretty fucking great.
Well, I don't really know what to do about next year except to say that I should attend more of the science guest speaker stuff at the uni... also the feminist guest speaker stuff, since I didn't get to go to ANY of it this year because it was ALWAYS AT THE SAME TIME AS MY GODDAMN PSYCHOLOGY CLASS. And see more plays put on by the uni. And try and go for more walks, and cook more food, and take more dance classes, and find fucking SOME kind of volunteer commitment in which to put my efforts that does not make me feel as guilty as EPASS does. Also, go to a party, because I've done that literally once, and it was a grad party, and I spent at least 15% of it ogling the stereotypical hot guy in school, who was wearing full-body spandex and pulling it off pretty fucking well, might I add (I realized at grad when he said he wanted to become a dentist that he just looked like a dentist and for some reason that was the end of my being attracted to him). Well, ok, that's a lie. My building has had some parties at which I totally killed it with my dance moves. Also I went to a club one time for like half an hour.
The experiences I remember best from this past year are the ones that are different. Something as stupid as sitting somewhere different in ochem, to cooking with Carina, to the time I went on like an hour and a half walk around campus, to the time I got to see The Nutcracker for the first time (and consequently found why Tchaikovsky hated it: the music is beautiful, but the plot is terrible). I think that says something.
ANYWAY. This is long enough, and I have laundry to do.
yer pal,
swegan
Sunday, May 10, 2015
On Eating
Apparently I've gone back to the weight I was at when I finished my first year of university. Somebody even mentioned to me the other day that it looked like I'd lost weight since Christmas, which made me a little conflicted. Typically, that should be a comment that people are happy to hear, because losing weight is framed as Always a Good Thing. I was slightly glad, because it meant that my plan to stop gaining weight worked (obviously), but then I found myself feeling like I was too small.
Then I realized how stupid the whole thing was. How much of my mental energy is spent worrying about how much I eat and how much I've walked and whether or not my jeans still fit the same way? Christ, I downloaded a calorie counting app at one point this year (which was interesting in that I learned how many calories I generally ate in a day and that sort of stuff), but like... using that app was exhausting. I stopped a while ago and do not regret it. Not to mention the forums were full of people who were like "I EAT ONLY LEAN CHICKEN AND BROCCOLI AND BROWN RICE FOR DINNER AND GO TO THE GYM EVERY DAY" and that was so not the kind of person I wanted to be.
I just miss being a kid, but I can remember even then thinking about this kind of shit. I had a few friends who were always concerned about their weight, and I can remember girls talking about diets and skipping breakfast as early as the 6th grade. I remember feeling glad that I didn't have to worry about any of that, because I was a tiny little twig of a girl who ate and ate but never seemed to get any bigger. Until I did, and thank god for that, because I would not want to be that tiny again.
Of course, growing up in my house has always been interesting re: eating. My mom was a nutritionist at one point, and I remember not having dessert like ever as a kid. I also remember a lot of whole grain everything and regular mealtimes, which have since gone the way of the dinosaur in this house. I don't even know what happened. There's almost always junk food around now, and I don't even know what's happening for dinner tonight. So far I've eaten half a bag of $1 chips from Bulk Barn that I bought on Friday. Nobody has called me for dinner or anything... I think my parents are both just tired and knowing they have work tomorrow makes them more tired. I think this is where my horrible eating habits in university come from. There have been weekend days when I don't eat until dinner just out of sheer laziness, and by the time dinner rolls around, I'm lightheaded and going "Oh, god, never again, you need to eat food, swegan, oh my god" but it still continues happening. It got to the point where I bought instant oatmeal because that was the lowest-effort food I could think of to keep around that was also sort of healthy.
My mom, of course, has had an interesting impact on this, from her comments about me (none of which I can forget, of course), to her comments about herself (which are far more common and make me really sad). I feel like my mom is really insecure, and I'm trying not to pick that up, while also trying to find ways to reassure her that she is fine, and that no one cares (she was worried that my unshaven legs would scare boys away (and also people in general I think) but to date, the only people who even seem to care are her and this girl in high school I didn't really like anyway), but I know that I'm probably not going to change her mind.
This year, though, I just started thinking about the whole concept of taking up space. Like I realize that I don't take up very much, and sometimes that does bother me. I already look like such a child, and being tiny makes me feel like people don't take me as seriously or something. Like, I'm not as formidable, I don't know. I was just looking around and wondering what it would be like to be male and take up space in that way. To be tall, and have MAN SHOULDERS and big feet and stuff like that. I think in general men get socialized to take up more space, while women get socialized to take up less, so that might have something to do with it.
anyway. I got distracted and now any other thoughts I had on the matter are gone.
yer pal,
swegan
Then I realized how stupid the whole thing was. How much of my mental energy is spent worrying about how much I eat and how much I've walked and whether or not my jeans still fit the same way? Christ, I downloaded a calorie counting app at one point this year (which was interesting in that I learned how many calories I generally ate in a day and that sort of stuff), but like... using that app was exhausting. I stopped a while ago and do not regret it. Not to mention the forums were full of people who were like "I EAT ONLY LEAN CHICKEN AND BROCCOLI AND BROWN RICE FOR DINNER AND GO TO THE GYM EVERY DAY" and that was so not the kind of person I wanted to be.
I just miss being a kid, but I can remember even then thinking about this kind of shit. I had a few friends who were always concerned about their weight, and I can remember girls talking about diets and skipping breakfast as early as the 6th grade. I remember feeling glad that I didn't have to worry about any of that, because I was a tiny little twig of a girl who ate and ate but never seemed to get any bigger. Until I did, and thank god for that, because I would not want to be that tiny again.
Of course, growing up in my house has always been interesting re: eating. My mom was a nutritionist at one point, and I remember not having dessert like ever as a kid. I also remember a lot of whole grain everything and regular mealtimes, which have since gone the way of the dinosaur in this house. I don't even know what happened. There's almost always junk food around now, and I don't even know what's happening for dinner tonight. So far I've eaten half a bag of $1 chips from Bulk Barn that I bought on Friday. Nobody has called me for dinner or anything... I think my parents are both just tired and knowing they have work tomorrow makes them more tired. I think this is where my horrible eating habits in university come from. There have been weekend days when I don't eat until dinner just out of sheer laziness, and by the time dinner rolls around, I'm lightheaded and going "Oh, god, never again, you need to eat food, swegan, oh my god" but it still continues happening. It got to the point where I bought instant oatmeal because that was the lowest-effort food I could think of to keep around that was also sort of healthy.
My mom, of course, has had an interesting impact on this, from her comments about me (none of which I can forget, of course), to her comments about herself (which are far more common and make me really sad). I feel like my mom is really insecure, and I'm trying not to pick that up, while also trying to find ways to reassure her that she is fine, and that no one cares (she was worried that my unshaven legs would scare boys away (and also people in general I think) but to date, the only people who even seem to care are her and this girl in high school I didn't really like anyway), but I know that I'm probably not going to change her mind.
This year, though, I just started thinking about the whole concept of taking up space. Like I realize that I don't take up very much, and sometimes that does bother me. I already look like such a child, and being tiny makes me feel like people don't take me as seriously or something. Like, I'm not as formidable, I don't know. I was just looking around and wondering what it would be like to be male and take up space in that way. To be tall, and have MAN SHOULDERS and big feet and stuff like that. I think in general men get socialized to take up more space, while women get socialized to take up less, so that might have something to do with it.
anyway. I got distracted and now any other thoughts I had on the matter are gone.
yer pal,
swegan
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