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Country: Canada
Birthday: 12/30/1987
Gender: Female
Interests: Things I do: writing (novels and poetry... it's a compulsion) - reading (incessantly) - listening to music - singing (in the shower mainly... let's keep it that way) - working out (insanely) - sketching (I'm sure my teachers like the weapons I draw on quizzes) - baking/cooking (Greek food is my vice... and anything with sugar and/or strawberries... okay... and cheesecake) - massage (hell of a nice hobby for those around me) - hanging out with friends (when they aren't being TOO stereotypically dramatic :P) - watching movies - homework (not a choice thing here) - tutoring (gah... but the money is good) - playing with my dog (even though he hates me) - playing with my rabbit (even though he mauls me). I think I'm just a bit insane. JUST a bit.
Occupation: Student
Message: message me
Member Since:
11/3/2003
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| I switched to livejournal. I was tired of writing things with no one commenting. So now I am used to writing for me and not necessarily expecting comments. So now is a good time to tell you about it. It starts at the end of May and goes until now, and will continue.
Blog URL: http://adiantum.livejournal.com/
Photos URL: http://pics.livejournal.com/adiantum/
I think it's a lot more personalized, and now seems like a good time to share the events that have been making up my life lately. Maybe it'll help remind people that they should take time to get to know the people they already think they know. | | |
| ...you can find me on a beach in Oregon, where I will be jumping on the sparkling sand. And I'll be happy there, without anyone to stop me.
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| I bought the CD "Colour the Small One" by Sia, the singer from Zero 7. I listened to the album and thought "it's not bad... I suppose I don't really regret buying it".
Then I listened to it again. And I read through the lyrics. And it left me amazed and listening to it is one of the most emotional experiences I've had listening to music. There are probably a lot of other factors... but I am still blown away. | | |
| I often try telling my life story to myself to see if I can make sense of how so many people could have wound up so unhappy, and then are now struggling so much with things like trust, faith and understanding.
And I realized that I am unsure about what things I remember and what things are pictures. I can look at a picture and imagine what might be happening in it, but I really don't know what was happening, but maybe I do, except my imagination is confusing my memory. Since I only really tell my story from grade 6 onward, and even then, I leave out a lot of things, I am finding it increasingly difficult to remember my childhood. It scares me that I might lose memories forever. But my mind is just so full of these fantastic, alsolutlely break-taking things, so those ordinary happy moments from a long time ago disappear, but I still keep the recent ones...
So I begin thinking that I should write down what I can remember while I still know what's memory and what's imagination. But then, where do I start?
My earliest memory? I don't even know what that might be. Stories of my childhood that are on camera, or that I've been told? A general reflection? But seriously, I haven't got a whole lot of stuff to reflect on, at least, I'll have a hell of a lot more in twenty or so years.
I sort of fell like watching home videos and trying to sort a few things out in my head.
Except it's almost midnight, and I'm tired. But it's really the kind of thing where I don't want my parents around to comment, and I know my mother would. Because it would kill her to notice when I don't feel like being talked at. Actually, that is not entirely true, she occasionally notices, when I make a point of glaring in this way that make it look like I am going to bite my lip until it bleeds, then shoot fire out of my mouth, and then shoot out claws like Wolverine, which I will use to flay someone.
When I do that, THEN she gets the idea. And she asks "what's wrong?" and sounds all concerned. When I tell her what it is she proceeds to tell me ALL ABOUT HER.
I'm bitter. I've got to stop that. | | |
| Tragically, I have to get up at 5:30 am tomorrow. Even more tragically, I can't go to bed this very minute. I still have to wait for my dad to get home and check something so that I can finish something. I have to pack what I am taking to SFU tomorrow, plan what I am going to wear tomorrow, and then back everything that I am taking technology-wise in the morning to Vancouver. Essentially, I have about another hour of stuff to do, and then I have to get ready for bed, so by the time I am asleep it will be 1 am and I will have to get up in 4.5 hours. The good thing is that I would get 4.5 hours of sleep, which is doubtless more than my dad will. The bad thing is that there is a chance I won't be able to fall asleep, and then when I get up, I may have gotten so very little sleep that I am near-dead. My mother has been speeding up the near-deadness simply by talking to me, a lot, even when she is in a different room and I am having a conversation with someone.
Even when I have my eyes closed.
Even when I am typing and simultaneously holding my head in a manner that says "I want to die". Meanwhile, she is giving me a scene-by-scene description of the television show she had just watched. Did I bring this on myself? Did I ask what she had been up to? No. She just approached me. And now I am hoping I can avoid her and her incessant talking for the next 24 hours.
Please feel free to place bets on how much coffee I'll drink tomorrow, and what time I will be crashing at. And where. The choices for where include: car, Sheraton Wall Centre, bus, SFU, skytrain, Metrotown, home, sidewalk and the middle of the street.
Joy. | | |
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