everything is fine

What a weekend. I mean, I don't really know what else to say besides that. It started off great. Ashley and I spent some time together after having dated for a year. That was nice. We ate a whole cake in less than a day. But it was a damn good cake. Red velvet with cream cheese frosting. Like, damn . Does cake get any better than that? No, probably not. And then both of my mom's parents died. Nobody really saw that coming, so it's been a rough time trying to sort everything out amidst people being people (read: disgusting, selfish animals) and people being stupid (read: people). And then I got sick and had a great time waiting in the lobby of the St. David's Emergency Department. Nobody else was there for any obvious sort of medical emergency, and that made me really mad. I mean, I was sitting there convulsing for a few hours while Joe Moocher and Jane Addict toddled off to take up all the beds in the department. We are in for some trouble times, I think. B

Not really the news I wanted to hear. It's just been one of those weeks. But it is not the time to be trifled with such things. It is the time for studying a lot. And worrying about everything.

There were a lot of things on my plate, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. It never gets to that point. Anything that comes my way is dealt with immediately. Maybe it's not attended to, but it's at least considered. I triage everything. But then, today, I mistakenly thought I had another chemistry lab write up due tomorrow that I had completely forgotten. And that was the straw. I just sort of shut down for a few minutes. Five, maybe ten. I just sat there and silently freaked out. It was a real "all systems: fuck" sort of thing. For a few minutes, I was convinced I wouldn't be able to do anything and that it was just all too much. For a few minutes, I was completely overwhelmed. And it was a bad feeling because I never am. I refuse to believe it's possible. So I kicked myself and got to work putting things in order and set up the rest of my night. Then, I was allowed to start chewing again. Which, admittedly, I do not like as much

The first memories that came to mind? Drinking Mr. Pibb in the office. Buying a Batman action figure and Batmobile toy set. Her housemate gifting me my first camera. The toys she gave us every time she came to visit that we never, ever played with. I don't really look back on any of these memories with any particular sentimentality. They are just things that happened in my life with no real emotional investment. In fact, I was more upset when I heard her dog had died. Which makes me feel kind of bad. I mean, I didn't share blood with the dog. But my mom was crying when she told me the dog died. She just sounded tired today. I'm not numb, I'm not detached. I'm just... unaffected. My grandmother died in her sleep and all I will do is shrug. I was watching life today on the Discovery Channel. Makes me want to go travel places and see things and take pictures of cool stuff. I want to go to the weird things in Venezuela and find the weirdo frogs. And I wa

As a kid, I never really had a solid grasp on things that I should have. Concepts, I mean. Like weather. I used to wake up every morning and ask my mom what the weather would be like that day. "Is it going to be hot or cold today?" Meaning, would I be able to wear shorts and a t-shirt on a normal January day. Eventually, she told me to check the temperature by feeling the window. That didn't really help either. Also, I never really had a real good perception of time. And I still don't. Like, how the hell is spring break over already? It's basically time to go back to school and I haven't done absolutely nothing. I was supposed to do a bunch of chemistry lab stuff so I could be ahead and relax for a while. I was supposed to draw a bunch of comics so I could be ahead and relax for a while. I was supposed to do something--anything--scholastic and I have done absolutely nothing. It is terrible.

Man, it's kind of crazy how tiring it is when you spend the whole day sleeping. Like, damn. I could use a nap. But we'll see how all this stuff turns out. I'm not particularly riled up either way. If he says yes, then okay. If he says no, then okay. It really isn't that big of a deal. It really won't affect me all the much. Except, maybe my mom will try to be a nicer and maybe my dad will grow a little more distant and maybe my brother will keep on doing the dumb things he does regardless. But, I mean, you know; it's whatever. I'm going to take a trip this summer. I've decided. An epic trip. Some kind of awesome adventure. I really want to canoe the Colorado River all the way to the Gulf of Mexico. It's something I've been wanting to do for years, and I'm going to make it happen this summer. Somehow.

It was, admittedly, not the best camping trip I've ever taken. But despite people being unnecessarily tense in the beginning, I was pretty damn excited to be going out somewhere. After following some questionable directions and almost missing an exciting turn, we made it to Lost Maples. Which was actually a pretty nice place. The trail to the campsite wasn't difficult or particularly long and the creek that weaved across it was a welcome change from the usual sight of bicyclists weaving across sidewalks in front of you. There were some cliff faces that ran along the length of the trail and, really for the first time in a while that I can remember, I could hear the birds chirping and singing in the trees around us and the frogs making frog noises down by the pond. Even though we were dragging an absurdly heavy wagon and a deluxe wooden edition of Scrabble and too many things in general and camping completely surrounded by other people, it was nice to finally be getting out i

All I ever think about these days is how much I have to/want to study. I hope that's not how I have a good time, now. Would I rather go hang out with peeps or would I rather sit in and study? It is a difficult question to answer. Just a couple more days and then I can focus all my energy on the next greatest idea I've ever had: iconic detectives and sharks.

I don't know what the deal is, but I always get bored with whatever it is I'm doing while I'm doing it. So the endings of my stories always end up fizzling out. It's not for a lack of enthusiasm, though. Well, it is. I just get bored and move on to the next thing. Maybe it's some sort of self-sabotage where I stop myself from finishing something good because I don't actually want to achieve anything. That doesn't bother me as much as it should, I guess. But look at this; this is garbage. I think, really that I just need a break. Camping will be a good time to just unwind. And reflect. It blows my mind to think about what was happening an entire year ago. How different things were.

I tried--I really tried--my best to keep an open mind about the whole ordeal. I mean, every piece of literature he sent to us about it desperately begged us to be very patient and understanding and, well, open-minded. But I will very eagerly admit that it was difficult. "Welcome to, ah, Sun-Do meditation exercise!" He would say, very cheerfully. And so it went every Monday, Wednesday, Friday for three weeks. People asked where I was going and I explained that I was going to waste an hour and a half doing nothing. Sun-Do is, apparently, some sort of Korean meditative breathing exercise. It involves stretching, yoga, some light cardiovascular activity, and--obviously--breathing. Focused, rhythmic breathing set to a chant that I do not know. When we finished filling out our comments forms on the last day, he called us in to impart some final words of wisdom. "I just have two things to say," he said. "One: it is, ah, recommended that you practice Sun-Do th

Wow, is it really Saturday already? The days go by so quickly now, it's kind of upsetting. There just aren't enough hours in the day to do enough of anything that would matter. It's not going to be a particularly fun weekend and it'll be an even less fun week what with all the tests and labs and reports being due. I mean, I guess it's cool to get totally fucked over with assignments and responsibilities leading straight into spring break. We are college students after all. But couldn't we have gotten an organic chemistry test in there too so there would be at least one fun thing going on this week? Yes, I really enjoy things related to organic chemistry. Spring break is going to be pretty fun, I hope. I'm not really looking forward to it yet because I have so much I need to worry about first. I'm already starting to feel much better during the brief moments I spend walking around outside in the beautiful weather and I'm looking forward to sta

She got me, and she got me good. It was over before I realized it had happened at all, and even then it took me a bit to process it. We had been doing chemistry homework and talking about things like stuff. "I loved physics in high school," I said. "How come you aren't a physics major, then?" She asked. "Well, I didn't love it that much." I replied. "Besides, my dad was a physics major and I don't want to have one of those follow in his footsteps kind of things going on. I want to do my own thing, something I really love." "So is that why you're a music major?" She asked. "Yeah!" I replied excitedly. Fractured images of sheet music and hazy memories of playing some kind of instrument flashed with every blink I took. "Because I love it so much!" And, for a moment, I was a music major. I was a music major and I was, well, ecstatic that I had been for my entire collegiate career. But then

It was a typical day in MUS 307 . A typical day where nobody pays attention to anything the professor talks about. A day where people play shitty flash games instead of take notes. A day where people sit and refresh their Facebook newsfeed instead of follow the slides. A day where people roll their eyes and go to sleep instead of listen to the music examples. A day where people get up and leave ten minutes before lecture ends instead of having the God damn decency to stay the whole time and pretend to be interested. I mean, if you're going to be so unaffected by the music we're studying in class then why the fuck did you take the class in the first place? Fuck it makes me mad. And I haven't even started talking about that fucker who sits in the back and tries to whistle along with every song that gets played in class. Alright, dude, we get it: you are just too cool and you know everything about jazz, ever. You know every standard ever written and everybody's so