I've decided I want to be a writer. About 3 weeks ago I quit all the joking around and said, ok seriously, can I make this happen. Turns out I think I can. Unfortunately if this is going to happen, if a Masters of Fine Arts (MFA) in Creative Writing is going to be in the plan (which I believe it should be), it won't be happening till Fall of 2011.
What does this mean in terms of the whole oh Idk, --I've already applied to grad school for psychology-- thing, I'm not sure yet. Maybe I'll end up changing my mind again as I often do, but I have to at least entertain the idea that I could make this work and go for it. I have to try.
When I really stopped and thought about it, I realized this is honestly something I've been prepping for my whole entire life, I just never thought it was realistic. But what I'm realizing, is you don't pick a lifestyle because it's realistic, you find a lifestyle you want and you make it realistic.
More to come.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Two Posts in One Day (...Kind of)
I admire people who are able to capture their personality in their appearance. They cut their hair some way, they paint their nails some color, they wear some unique outfit, whatever, but people say, hey check out that style man.
My style consists of jeans, a t-shirt that either A) is from high school, B) says Indiana on it, or C) is a reject from Goodwill, some cool sneakers/tennis shoes that I try my best to clash with my selected t-shirt, and most likely some random sweatshirt or fleece to top it off (which also clashes). Some days I can confidently say I purposely select colors which sort of match, but also clash, but most days I honestly just put on individual pieces that feel good, and don't consider how they'll be together.
My hair, though it is red, and I suppose that is a defining physical characteristic expressing my personality...something like that...couldn't be less defining. Out of shear laziness I typically throw some mousse in it after my shower, mostly to keep it from looking too frizzy, slightly to make it curl, but it ends up turning into this sort of frizzy-curled-fusion. This untamed mass of being hanging at my shoulders.
To really top it off I usually don't shower on a regular basis--this also out of laziness, and the fact that I don't much care about the impression my physical being has on other people...but let's be honest, people who say they don't care what other people think about then, want to give off that sort of impression, the impression that says: I care so much about what you think about me that I have to pretend I'm above it. So I'm not sure what's true really, because the truth is I do care, but the truth also is that I really am pretty lazy when it comes to that sort of thing.
I'd rather impress someone with my wit, with the way I hold my pen, with how fast I can write when I'm on a streak, with qualities I pretend to have, ones I try to practice in front of the mirror, attitudes I don't really have, with personality attributes that don't actually belong to me. I try to capture my personality in my every word, and to be honest usually I fail.
My style consists of jeans, a t-shirt that either A) is from high school, B) says Indiana on it, or C) is a reject from Goodwill, some cool sneakers/tennis shoes that I try my best to clash with my selected t-shirt, and most likely some random sweatshirt or fleece to top it off (which also clashes). Some days I can confidently say I purposely select colors which sort of match, but also clash, but most days I honestly just put on individual pieces that feel good, and don't consider how they'll be together.
My hair, though it is red, and I suppose that is a defining physical characteristic expressing my personality...something like that...couldn't be less defining. Out of shear laziness I typically throw some mousse in it after my shower, mostly to keep it from looking too frizzy, slightly to make it curl, but it ends up turning into this sort of frizzy-curled-fusion. This untamed mass of being hanging at my shoulders.
To really top it off I usually don't shower on a regular basis--this also out of laziness, and the fact that I don't much care about the impression my physical being has on other people...but let's be honest, people who say they don't care what other people think about then, want to give off that sort of impression, the impression that says: I care so much about what you think about me that I have to pretend I'm above it. So I'm not sure what's true really, because the truth is I do care, but the truth also is that I really am pretty lazy when it comes to that sort of thing.
I'd rather impress someone with my wit, with the way I hold my pen, with how fast I can write when I'm on a streak, with qualities I pretend to have, ones I try to practice in front of the mirror, attitudes I don't really have, with personality attributes that don't actually belong to me. I try to capture my personality in my every word, and to be honest usually I fail.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Lately
I've been impatient lately, with people, with the weather, with the internet, with stop lights, with everything. I've been on edge, short-tempered. I haven't been a pleasant person to be around. The truth is I'm bored.
See I'm the type of person who thinks they know what's best for everyone. There are people I want to sit down in a chair and tell them where they should be at, what they should be doing, and how they should be acting...but no one wants this. So until people begin to live up to my expectations, I will continue to be disappointed.I will continue to be bored, and annoyed. I will continue to sit cross-legged on the other side of the room, making judgments, mapping out what they should have said next, instead of the crap that already came out.
I wrote this next thing on March 2nd, 2009 and it really seems to be exactly how I am feeling now. maybe the in between held some improvements. but i'm not really that optimistic.
I am always punishing people for their imperfections, and then loving others for theirs. This is, in fact, an imperfection of mine, to see the beauty in some, and not in others, to be intrigued only to the point of real extremities, and not the little things that we see so often everyday in books and magazines. I am bothered by this everyday monotony and I am bored with it, and thus I write off those who fall below my scale of interest or punish those that I am stuck with who do the same. Either way, to be boring and to be close to me is something of an anomaly.
I'm sure this is all very annoying to read, and I probably sound a bit like a bitch, but at least I'm acknowledging it.
P.S. Listen to "Set the Fire to the third bar" by Snow Patrol
See I'm the type of person who thinks they know what's best for everyone. There are people I want to sit down in a chair and tell them where they should be at, what they should be doing, and how they should be acting...but no one wants this. So until people begin to live up to my expectations, I will continue to be disappointed.I will continue to be bored, and annoyed. I will continue to sit cross-legged on the other side of the room, making judgments, mapping out what they should have said next, instead of the crap that already came out.
I wrote this next thing on March 2nd, 2009 and it really seems to be exactly how I am feeling now. maybe the in between held some improvements. but i'm not really that optimistic.
I am always punishing people for their imperfections, and then loving others for theirs. This is, in fact, an imperfection of mine, to see the beauty in some, and not in others, to be intrigued only to the point of real extremities, and not the little things that we see so often everyday in books and magazines. I am bothered by this everyday monotony and I am bored with it, and thus I write off those who fall below my scale of interest or punish those that I am stuck with who do the same. Either way, to be boring and to be close to me is something of an anomaly.
I'm sure this is all very annoying to read, and I probably sound a bit like a bitch, but at least I'm acknowledging it.
P.S. Listen to "Set the Fire to the third bar" by Snow Patrol
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Food
I lose my faith in humanity every time I walk down the street and see someone taking a false breath. Someone uttering a fake word. Someone saying anything other than what is really on their mind, and that my friends, is, and forever will be, "I could really use some Subway right now".
Friday, October 2, 2009
I'm terrified
because this is something I could fail at. And if I do in fact fail, I am not only wasting a lot of time but also a lot of money. But mostly I'm wasting time. Mostly I will have wasted time. I will have wasted the roughly 15 precious nights that could have been filled with late night talks, trips to Bloomington Bagel, and movie marathons, to instead, camp out in the library with my nose in that god damned Kaplan GRE Psychology Preparation book. For christ's sake it's been like a bible.
If I fail I'm not sure where I'll go from there (well actually I do because I have a back up plan, but mentally I do not know where I'll go from there). I'm not sure how I will react or what I will do because I really am completely and utterly in the dark about it. I'm not sure how it will make me feel, because I've never really failed before, and that's not to say I'm good at everything, but that instead I only do things I am good at.
I've never really gone out on a limb before and tried to do something I wasn't good at, because I figured if I sucked at it, or if it was going to take too much work, I just wouldn't enjoy it.
The closest I've come is when I auditioned for the music school and did not get in, but quickly decided that it was a relief because it wasn't what I really wanted to do anyway. (which still remains legit I'd say, but sometimes I wonder...)
I don't want to do that with this. I don't want to spend all this money taking these tests and all this time studying for them and put all this energy into it, and then not get in and say "It wasn't what I wanted anyway". NO. I want to feel this all the way through. If I fail I want to be devastated, and I want to try again.
This is why I'm terrified, because for once I am standing up to myself. I'm terrified of failing, and I'm terrified of being devastated.
If I fail I'm not sure where I'll go from there (well actually I do because I have a back up plan, but mentally I do not know where I'll go from there). I'm not sure how I will react or what I will do because I really am completely and utterly in the dark about it. I'm not sure how it will make me feel, because I've never really failed before, and that's not to say I'm good at everything, but that instead I only do things I am good at.
I've never really gone out on a limb before and tried to do something I wasn't good at, because I figured if I sucked at it, or if it was going to take too much work, I just wouldn't enjoy it.
The closest I've come is when I auditioned for the music school and did not get in, but quickly decided that it was a relief because it wasn't what I really wanted to do anyway. (which still remains legit I'd say, but sometimes I wonder...)
I don't want to do that with this. I don't want to spend all this money taking these tests and all this time studying for them and put all this energy into it, and then not get in and say "It wasn't what I wanted anyway". NO. I want to feel this all the way through. If I fail I want to be devastated, and I want to try again.
This is why I'm terrified, because for once I am standing up to myself. I'm terrified of failing, and I'm terrified of being devastated.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
It happened
I had hoped it would happen. I'm not sure how long I thought it would take, but I know that I was pretty sure it was never really going to fully happen anyway, maybe just in bits and pieces. Maybe little by little everything, every feeling, every memory, would start to fade away enough that I would soon succumb to not caring. I hoped for years that the pain would go away. It kept coming in and out and teasing me and bullying me. And then, on the most unlikely of all days, on a day similar to a day 4 months prior where a simple phone call left me in tears, I saw what I had been afraid to see for over 7 years, and I didn't care at all. There were no tears, no compulsive mouse clicks, no "Oh my god!"'s. There was none of that. Sure there was curiosity, a little bit of intrigue, but no more reaction than any other finding of its nature would warrant.
What I am trying to say is that I'm on a plane and I'm over it (someone said that to me once after I broke up with them in the 9th grade and I thought it was completely ridiculous, so I'm not even sure why I'm using it now)I'm not hurt, I'm not sad, I'm not confused. I had been almost over it for so long and I just needed an extra little push to get me over the edge and I finally got it.
I can honestly say that I have fully and truthfully, moved on from that portion of my life. It was great, I don't take it back, I don't hate it, in fact quite the opposite. I will always keep it special and safe in my heart and I will continue to care about it, but gone are the days where I will sit up at night stressing over it. I have moved on, and man it feels great.
Seth Cohen wouldn't give up, but he would know when to move on.
What I am trying to say is that I'm on a plane and I'm over it (someone said that to me once after I broke up with them in the 9th grade and I thought it was completely ridiculous, so I'm not even sure why I'm using it now)I'm not hurt, I'm not sad, I'm not confused. I had been almost over it for so long and I just needed an extra little push to get me over the edge and I finally got it.
I can honestly say that I have fully and truthfully, moved on from that portion of my life. It was great, I don't take it back, I don't hate it, in fact quite the opposite. I will always keep it special and safe in my heart and I will continue to care about it, but gone are the days where I will sit up at night stressing over it. I have moved on, and man it feels great.
Seth Cohen wouldn't give up, but he would know when to move on.
Monday, August 10, 2009
There Are Places I Remember
I've spent 5 summers of my life among the birch trees of birch lake (though that's not actually true because there are hardly any birch trees at camp, but there used to be? I think?)and every summer is a little bit different, understandably. I left Camp Tannadoonah twice as a camper and never thought twice about it. I left it the first time as a counselor in 2007 2 weeks early, and didn't much care about coming back to it, and then I left it in 2008 and knew I would die if I didn't return.
And now, it's 2009 and I've left it again.
There are places I remember, like my basement back on Sapphire Drive where Christine and I used to roller skate to The Lion King, and Encore, with all it's 90's neon colors and dark corners. These places hold special places in my heart, but Tannadoonah holds an extra special one. It's a place I will truly remember and honestly never forget. I will never forget the details of the woodwork in Morris Lodge or the way the puddles form along the grass right after it rains. I will never forget the camper's who have touched me more than I've touched them, or the people who were there for me along the way.
I used to talk about finding a love that transcends all that I've known of myself, of finding myself at home in another person, and though at times it seemed the search would never come to a conclusion, Tannadoonah concluded the search for me. I think it's safe to say that I gave Tannadoonah 5 years of dedication and in return it gave me a love I never thought I was worthy of. It gave me the hope I'm always searching for and handlebars to grip on to.
And though this love is set further away than both of us would like it to be, I know that it won't fail. I've put all my strength in this and I truly believe that if 2 people can devote their heart to something, there's no way it can fall short of wonderful. And so I'm holding on. I'm holding on blindly, but its so tightly that my future doesn't care where it's going, as long as it knows that that love will never die. And I hope to Lindsay it doesn't.
And now, it's 2009 and I've left it again.
There are places I remember, like my basement back on Sapphire Drive where Christine and I used to roller skate to The Lion King, and Encore, with all it's 90's neon colors and dark corners. These places hold special places in my heart, but Tannadoonah holds an extra special one. It's a place I will truly remember and honestly never forget. I will never forget the details of the woodwork in Morris Lodge or the way the puddles form along the grass right after it rains. I will never forget the camper's who have touched me more than I've touched them, or the people who were there for me along the way.
I used to talk about finding a love that transcends all that I've known of myself, of finding myself at home in another person, and though at times it seemed the search would never come to a conclusion, Tannadoonah concluded the search for me. I think it's safe to say that I gave Tannadoonah 5 years of dedication and in return it gave me a love I never thought I was worthy of. It gave me the hope I'm always searching for and handlebars to grip on to.
And though this love is set further away than both of us would like it to be, I know that it won't fail. I've put all my strength in this and I truly believe that if 2 people can devote their heart to something, there's no way it can fall short of wonderful. And so I'm holding on. I'm holding on blindly, but its so tightly that my future doesn't care where it's going, as long as it knows that that love will never die. And I hope to Lindsay it doesn't.
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