Introspectivity

So yesterday, in a blur of manic energy brought on by less than 3 hours of sleep, I whipped up a couple of melodramatic blog posts. The last one is rather embarassing, but I've decided to leave it. A blog is an online journal, meant to record events as they happen, so it's staying for integrity's sake. It's all true, of course, just keep in mind I'm not nearly as affected by last year as I made out in that post. I consider it a minor lapse in my determination to make lemonade. (But I'm still pretty serious about the Buddhism.)(And anthropology is still interesting, but I don't think it would have done me much good had I not already have the mindset and potential nessecary. Knowledge from the world without the potential wisdom to use it from within is like using a hammer without an anvil. Finding something I enjoyed doing helped just as much as what I was learning from the doing, if not more.)

Hope you are well.

Wednesday Night, 6:50 PM

When you reach that University-going age, the adults in your life feel obliged to tell you all about it. Not necessarily specific experiences, but how they wish they'd gone, or how they did go and it changed their life, and altered their reality forever, was the best time of their life, etc.

And for the longest time, even after I started University, I had NO IDEA what they were talking about. University was just a repeat of everything else I'd done in my life - school, money, laundry, interpersonal interaction (or lack thereof), only more so and without anything remotely resembling a support system. I'd think to myself "Is this it? Seriously? The fantastic experience every one's told me about? It sucks! I don't know if I can even take more of this. This enlightening thing better happen soon, because I am falling apart." I pondered ways of ending it. I didn't make a plan or anything, so it didn't seem serious at the time. Now that I'm in a healthier state of mind (and I am), I realise that any thought like that is serious, although I don't think I would have done it. I've always been a rather happy, content person, so it just didn't seem real to me. I'm me! I'm not THAT unhappy. I'm not that girl.

Well, I was. And then I took my first anthropology class. I didn't realise it then, but anthropology probably saved my sanity, or at least played a big role in its recovery. It struck a chord within me, and I began seeing even more sides of life (though I've always tried to see as many sides of an issue as possible.) Everything I looked at, I took apart in my mind. I took nothing for granted. I realised how absolutely blind I had been. My new found ability to analyse things was key when I directed my focus on myself. I realised that nothing in life is certain. I didn't have to be unhappy if I didn't want to. There are infinite possibilities, infinite time. So I took another anthropology class, and it kept happening; I kept gaining perspective. Eventually, I rediscovered Buddhism. I've always been fascinated by it, but now I started learned more about it. I've decided it's a mindset I will do my best to cultivate. The idea that I am just a tiny part of an infinite whole doesn't scare me, it comforts me. The universal principles around which the doctrine is based resonate with me, as do the "commandments", if you will. I won't get into the specifics now - I don't know everything I want to know yet, but if the interest is there I will expound on the issue later.

That hesitation of mine to discuss things that I have not learned about fully is one I have always had, but it is definitely more common now, again because of anthropology. In most cases, I consider this to be a very good thing. There is too much ignorance in the world without my jumping into things headfirst, without all the facts. But there is one area in which is really kind of sucks, because until I have all the information, I have to suffer.

(I live in fear of my mother reading this blog, because she did find it once. But for once in my life, I am going to proceed anyway. That said, mom, if you are reading this, please stop. I know the whole internet thing voids the privacy thing in theory, but please. P.S. I'm not pregnant.)









I think that all the people who are still reading this lengthy stream-of-consciousness will know what I am talking about by now. God, I can't even type it. Well, guess. I know you can. The thing is, I can't tell other people, admit it to the world, not because I am ashamed, but because I don't even know if I am capable of a relationship involving... aspects of physical intimacy beyond friendship. (Romantic or emotional intimacy - I can do those.) And that is all I am going to say, or I will be venturing into Sex and the City territory and to be frank, that show made me squeamish. Suffice it to say certain things cannot be said to my family and/or complete strangers without the successful completion of field trials that lead to a conclusive resolution.

I hope my catharsis wasn't too boring/shocking.

I just found out Heath Ledger died yesterday.

I'm reeling; I liked and respected the guy.

The strange thing is how much it shocks me. I didn't know him personally, I didn't know his demons. People die everyday, and I don't know them either, but somehow it doesn't affect me the same way. Such is the nature of celebrity - a small percentage of people who carry the admiration and values of millions. They are our role models and moral compasses - they are not supposed to die, be sick or angry. They aren't supposed to have drug problems, emotional problems, mental problems, problems with the law. They are supposed to embody the perfection that the Western world blindly, desperately believes in. It's okay if we don't live up to our full potential, it's okay that we don't have the perfect life, because someone does. So when a person I look up to, respect, and admire dies, so does some of my reality. I don't know what the real world is. I don't believe anybody does. Who knows, it might be glorious and peaceful, if people truly have unlimited potential. But what if they don't? What if the greed and ignorance that consumes us is it? What if the world is a horrible place, where even the most revered among us cannot attain the dream?

So I don't want to know the truth of human existence. At least not yet. I'm terrified to find out, and that is a reason I mourn Heath Ledger.

Imagination

My toe has been acting up today. The baby one on my right foot. It is all painful, and seems swollen. Maybe I stubbed it?
I was pondering on my toe when I thought to myself: what if it is cancer? Or necrotizing fasciitis? Then it'll have to be amputated! And I thought that the loss of a baby toe was a loss I could live with. What body part do you think would be the least traumatizing to lose?

In other My Creepy Body news, my intestine seems to be strangling my uterus. I think I'm with my intestine on this. That uterus can really be an obnoxious bitch sometimes.


MONDAY TOE UPDATE:
(Not that I think anyone really cares about the state of my toe.)

It has ballooned up. It looks like a little cocktail sausage. A very painful, hot sausage. My current theories are now gout, arthritis, or aggravation by my shoes compounded by the fact that I think I broke it a while ago, and also compounded by the fact that I keep stubbing it, which hurts like a mofo let me tell you.

Yay for Goals

So instead of going to bed so I can get up and not die in class tomorrow, I was perusing the Internet. More specifically, I was looking at the Mountview Academy site. And I was thinking to myself: "This seems awesome. Why am I not super excited? I wish it focused more on movies. Is there such a thing as a film school? My god, there is, isn't there?" So the next hour was spent perusing film school sites. GUESS WHAT. I have a goal in life now! My goal is to finish my social science degree here, and then go to the Vancouver Film school! (Or the Toronto or the Victoria School, but those are second choices.) I will take their 4 month intro to acting course, and then hopefully get invited to their acting program, and maybe also take programs in writing for TV and make up/prosthetics for the film industry! Yay for over educated! And I like that all their courses appear to be 12 month dealies. My only concern in money. YOWZA. Each year tuition is, oh, the cost of a small car. So I guess I shall be working all summer, and part time in the school year, because I do not like debt, but I really wanna go. So hooray for a future. Of course, I could be almost 26 by the time I'm done... I forgot my point. That is not old at all! LIFE PLAN! FILM SCHOOL!

P.S. Comment! And tell me a) that I'm an idiot, or b) I'm not really a totally unrealistic loser?

Terrible Day

Today sucked.

1. It snowed, and I got my blue shoes dirty.
2. My back/upper neck hurts.
3. I scuffed my brand new extra fancy leather gloves that I got for Christmas.
4. My scene partner forgot her script.
5. I messed up my knitting a bit.
6. I'm all crampy.

Instead of dealing with this mediocre day like a rational adult, I feel like a little kid in grade 2 who's just had the worst day of her life.

2nd Full Week of School/Spreading of Anger (Not Very Buddhist of Me, Sorry.)

I've been listening constantly to the Simon and Garfunkel compilation I got for Christmas. I relate to it really well. It's almost like there's a synergy (sorry, I hate that word too). But really, they manage to say everything I want to and convey all I feel, but better and to a tune.

As the title of this post says, I'm going into my second full week classes. Things are going... Not nearly as well as last semester. Only one of my acquaintances from last term is in a class with me. Also, in acting, my scene partner for our first scene can't act. She is only in the class because it's a requirement, not because she has any drama aspirations. And I do admit that mine are more wishful thinking than actually goals, but I'd like them to be goals someday. And this may sound egotistical, but I can act a lot better than her. And she exhibits one of my pet peeves: when reading aloud, she constantly messes up words. Not a little, a little is fine. Like one or two words a sentence are wrong, so her lines make no sense when she is reading them. She did get better as we went though, so hopefully she'll fix all her mistakes soon. I really don't want to correct her, as that would be basically telling her she can't read. Ugh. Maybe I'm being uncharitable, but I'm full of PMS right now, and I believe that excuses me almost anything. My character swears a bit, so I shall release my secret tension that way.

My other classes look pretty manageable. One of my anthropology classes (not the one with the professor I'm stalking) has 3 tests, and all of them are in-class essays, which are one of my least favourite methods of evaluation, so I'm slightly concerned about that, but I'll meet with her at some point and I'm sure that will help assuage my fears.

In my sociology class (Deviance, Conformity and Social Control) we watched a movie last class called Ballot Measure Nine, which was that story of a bill they tried to pass in Oregon in 1992. Basically it was an amendment to the constitution that would allow discrimination based on sexual orientation in areas such as employment and housing. The exact text of the amendment proposed was "All governments in Oregon may not use their monies or properties to promote, encourage or facilitate homosexuality, pedophilia, sadism, or masochism. All levels of government, including public education systems, must assist in setting a standard for Oregon's youth which recognizes that these behaviors are abnormal, wrong, unnatural and perverse and they are to be discouraged and avoided." (To be clear, I agree that pedophilia is unacceptable, as are sadism and masochism when taken beyond a boundary.) The "Yes on 9" group was run by the Oregon Citizens Alliance, and they used the most homophobic, manipulative hate tactics I have ever heard of to try and get this thing voted in. Their campaign slogan was "No Special Rights", which is simply evil genius, as what they were fighting against was equal rights. And they used discredited studies as evidence, like saying all homosexuals are also pedophiles, and all homosexuals engage in some sort of coprophilia. It made me sick.
I guess I just wanted to pass around some rage. I'm not going to get into the whole freedom of religion thing right now, nor am I going to discuss the issue of homosexuality in a class on deviance. Because that would take forever, and I think I've ranted enough for one post. Later, I'll rant. If people are interested. If they aren't, I shall write angry essays offline.

So I'm feeling a little disconnected, unmotivated, lonely and lackluster right now. I do hope It doesn't devolve any further, as I really don't want to repeat last year's pit of despair experience. My at-home, 100% organic remedy is blogging! This way, I can communicate with a world beyond my bedroom, and connect to my friends, and fend off isolation. I'll try to do it at least twice a week. As always, comments are lovely lovely crack.

I also may email you homies at one point, but first you need to email me at my hotmail with your preferred contact address, or I won't. I'm sorry, but I don't want to send mass emails to people who won't actually read them because they are rotting in a forgotten account.

Eughh.

For breakfast today, I ate half a pound of licorice allsorts. MISTAKE.
Also contributing to my oogy feeling is my massive oversleeping. I felt like crap so I went to bed at 6:45, but I got up at 8. So this morning is not the best morning. I also have to have a shower but my roommate is in there. And maybe I'll be late for class, and definetly I won't have done the reading.