As of this moment, I have been living in Lethbridge for approximately 5 days and 4 hours. It feels like much, much longer. I have unpacked everything, used "my" new oven to my heart's content, eaten more than is good for me, scouted out some running paths by the graveyard and in the coulees, met a dizzying array of Jen and Liana's (my landlords) friends, handed out resumes all over town, and tried the bus system. Yet despite all these activities, I still feel bored. I still watch too much daytime television. I still feel unproductive and antsy. Would someone, somewhere, from any minimum wage retail job just give me a call for an interview? Forget trying to actually make money. I just want the reassuring beep beep beep of my alarm clock going off at an ungodly hour, telling me that I am gainfully employed and will be able to pay my rent and buy groceries. I am sure that soon I will be retracting that wish for the annoying sound of my alarm clock every morning, but right now I feel like my life is on hold and I'd just like to get this show on the road.
Maybe all this waiting time is for a reason. Maybe some Higher Power is telling me that I just need to learn to wait, to slow down, to relax, to trust. Maybe. Or maybe that Higher Power is telling me that I should have taken greater care with my resume. Or it could be that I am supposed to be learning a lesson in perseverance. Or frugality. Or maybe how if I hadn't bought that iPod in February I would have a nice little sum in my bank account right now.
I love how when it's almost 1 o'clock am, all the negative thoughts swarm my brain like drones around a queen bee.
Did I just use that metaphor? Good grief. I was just watching Jerry Seinfeld; maybe that's why.
This feels like such an odd time in my life. I feel so young and yet so old. Part of me knows that I'm 19; no one expects me to have it all together, to make loads of money and have perfect hair. Yet another part of me feels way older than 19; like I should know what I'm doing by now and shouldn't be scared by the thought of job interviews or learning how to work a lottery machine at Shopper's Drug Mart or trying to pick my courses for next year. But having spent the last two years of my life in a climate-controlled bubble, I don't really know what to do in the real world anymore. I don't know what's me and what's just a product of Taylor. I don't know what I want. I have no opinions. I laugh when other people laugh; I stare at people's shoes to make sure that what I'm wearing on my feet is at least passable. I know part of that will never change, but I also know that there's a part of me that really wants to break free and become itself in a way that never could have happened at Taylor. And that might take a long time, and it might take some work, but I want to try. Cause I really want to know who I am. And maybe that's the point of all this waiting - to find out what I want out of life and who "me" really is.
Oh geez. So philosophical. I should really go to bed now before I spill my guts all over this page, cause that would be gross and nobody wants to see it. I'm sure. Yukky.
So here's to tomorrow and sleeping in and doing nothing. Cause doing nothing is the only thing I can do at this point. Who knows? Maybe I'll even get called in for a job interview. I'm crossing my fingers...
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Friday, April 21, 2006
My Last Day (ever) at Taylor
It has been a stressful week. A 16-page take-home final, my last day at work, packing everything, buying a dress for my sister's wedding, and a nasty cold on top of everything else has taken up all my time. And now here I sit, with the contents of my room in a haphazard pile of boxes in the middle of my floor. The shelves all need washing, and I have to move all the furniture back to where it was, and then vacuum. I guess I'll wait til tomorrow to do all of that.
It seems crazy to think that tomorrow night at this time I will probably be sinking to the floor exhausted... in my own little basement suite! I can't wait. I guess partly I'm really scared and nervous to be completely on my own in a city that I don't know that well - but on the other hand, there are so many exciting possibilities!
I will miss all the girls on my floor in Schindler so much! I've gotten really close to Randa, and it's crazy to think that I won't be able to have any more late-night talks with her in these rooms - I won't be able to just walk across the hall and say good morning - I won't be able to borrow her printer paper or ask her how my outfit looks. I will miss her so much! I'd forgotten what it's like to have a best friend.
Well, the packing is calling. Goodbye, sophomore year. Goodbye, Schindler. May all the traumatic, harrowing experiences be erased from my memory so that I remember these four walls not as a prison, but as a palace. (Schindler? A palace? Bwah ha ha!) But nonetheless - it's the end of my life in dorms, and it's bittersweet. Time to move one? Yes. But also a time to look back, and remember the good times.
Oh dear. I better not wax philosophical again. It reveals my melodramatic streak!
It seems crazy to think that tomorrow night at this time I will probably be sinking to the floor exhausted... in my own little basement suite! I can't wait. I guess partly I'm really scared and nervous to be completely on my own in a city that I don't know that well - but on the other hand, there are so many exciting possibilities!
I will miss all the girls on my floor in Schindler so much! I've gotten really close to Randa, and it's crazy to think that I won't be able to have any more late-night talks with her in these rooms - I won't be able to just walk across the hall and say good morning - I won't be able to borrow her printer paper or ask her how my outfit looks. I will miss her so much! I'd forgotten what it's like to have a best friend.
Well, the packing is calling. Goodbye, sophomore year. Goodbye, Schindler. May all the traumatic, harrowing experiences be erased from my memory so that I remember these four walls not as a prison, but as a palace. (Schindler? A palace? Bwah ha ha!) But nonetheless - it's the end of my life in dorms, and it's bittersweet. Time to move one? Yes. But also a time to look back, and remember the good times.
Oh dear. I better not wax philosophical again. It reveals my melodramatic streak!
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Gestalt, schmalt
Studying for a counseling psychology test (from 8:30 am til 2:00 pm, 23 pages of handwritten notes!!!) has its drawbacks.
For one thing, after the test, the terms "reality- cognitive- behavioural- Gestalt- existential- psychosocial- psychodynamic- family- structural- strategic- person-centered" all kind of mush together in my mind and severely hinder rational thinking. I feel like a stewpot of various theories of counseling. If you say anything to me at this point - however trivial or benign - I might just label you a neurotic individual who never completed the autonomy vs. shame and doubt phase of Erikson's psychosocial learning.
Another problem with cramming for a counseling exam is the fact that I've started analyzing myself. I'm afraid that I'm not a very self-actualized individual. You see, according to the human-centered approach to counseling, each one of us humans is like a little acorn with the potential to grow into a great big oak tree. That, my friend, is self-actualization. I think I'm pretty far behind. On Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs I've pretty much only mastered survival - food and shelter.
Not that you care about any of this. You'd think I was a psychology major, not a disillusioned would-be novelist who can't even find the motivation to start on my take-home Ren Lit final, due Thursday morning at 11:00. 12-20 brutal pages. I hate my life.
Goodbye cruel world. I'm going to write until I'm finished. Then I might crawl out of my hole in the ground (aka my stinky nasty smelly room) and face the light.
For one thing, after the test, the terms "reality- cognitive- behavioural- Gestalt- existential- psychosocial- psychodynamic- family- structural- strategic- person-centered" all kind of mush together in my mind and severely hinder rational thinking. I feel like a stewpot of various theories of counseling. If you say anything to me at this point - however trivial or benign - I might just label you a neurotic individual who never completed the autonomy vs. shame and doubt phase of Erikson's psychosocial learning.
Another problem with cramming for a counseling exam is the fact that I've started analyzing myself. I'm afraid that I'm not a very self-actualized individual. You see, according to the human-centered approach to counseling, each one of us humans is like a little acorn with the potential to grow into a great big oak tree. That, my friend, is self-actualization. I think I'm pretty far behind. On Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs I've pretty much only mastered survival - food and shelter.
Not that you care about any of this. You'd think I was a psychology major, not a disillusioned would-be novelist who can't even find the motivation to start on my take-home Ren Lit final, due Thursday morning at 11:00. 12-20 brutal pages. I hate my life.
Goodbye cruel world. I'm going to write until I'm finished. Then I might crawl out of my hole in the ground (aka my stinky nasty smelly room) and face the light.
Sunday, April 16, 2006
My New Shoes
Oh I know I already posted once. But I forgot about these! My first ebay purchase ever! Aren't they pretty?
Grrrr.....
I had typed out a really long post and then I pushed a random key and Blogger deleted it! I am so sad. I guess you guys don't get to read my ramblings after all. In the interests of time, I guess I will just make a list:
1. I had a lovely easter Sunday. Went to dinner at Randa's grandparents - she was gone so they adopted me. Then I had breakfast for supper - a bowl of cereal, a bagel, and yogourt - oh I know you guys don't care what I ate for supper, but it makes me happy to think about food, so humor me!
2. I get to move into my new place in 5 DAYS!!! I am really excited. Oh to have my own kitchen... my own counters... that reminds me, I have to go wash my dishes.
3. I've started reading the Circle Trilogy by Ted Dekker again. Such a good series! I was just very bored... since the library was closed this weekend (how dare they?!) ... so I grabbed a random book off my shelf and now I'm totally engrossed. I forget how they end. Last time I read them... well let's just say that I was an emotional basket case and I wasn't really concentrating. So this is exciting!
4. I'm leaving. Goodbye. The dishes are calling. Oh, and exams. Yuck. I hate exams. Who invented such nasty things? Why can't life be fun? ("I beg your pardon; I never promised you a rose garden" *cheesy lyric of the day).
Goodbye!!!
1. I had a lovely easter Sunday. Went to dinner at Randa's grandparents - she was gone so they adopted me. Then I had breakfast for supper - a bowl of cereal, a bagel, and yogourt - oh I know you guys don't care what I ate for supper, but it makes me happy to think about food, so humor me!
2. I get to move into my new place in 5 DAYS!!! I am really excited. Oh to have my own kitchen... my own counters... that reminds me, I have to go wash my dishes.
3. I've started reading the Circle Trilogy by Ted Dekker again. Such a good series! I was just very bored... since the library was closed this weekend (how dare they?!) ... so I grabbed a random book off my shelf and now I'm totally engrossed. I forget how they end. Last time I read them... well let's just say that I was an emotional basket case and I wasn't really concentrating. So this is exciting!
4. I'm leaving. Goodbye. The dishes are calling. Oh, and exams. Yuck. I hate exams. Who invented such nasty things? Why can't life be fun? ("I beg your pardon; I never promised you a rose garden" *cheesy lyric of the day).
Goodbye!!!
Saturday, April 08, 2006
I Knew It Would Happen One of These Days
I must be one of the ditziest people I know.
I try. I try so hard to be responsible, to be on time, to be one of those trustworthy individuals that everyone can depend on.
But what did I do on Monday night? I completely ruined my reputation for responsibility (flimsy and false though it may be) by blithely walking off the bus without my wallet.
To complicate matters further, I didn't discover this dismaying fact until Wednesday, when I was looking for my wallet so I could buy some groceries. When I couldn't find it, I went into panic mode, and started tearing my room apart. When that yielded no results, I admitted to myself - a sinking feeling beginning to take over my gastrointestinal regions - that most likely, my wallet had wandered away from me, slyly remaining on the bus while I walked away, oblivious.
I felt as if it had betrayed me, like the One Ring betrayed Gollum.
Being one of those stupid people who keep every document necessary for their identity inside their wallet, I knew that if I didn't find my wallet, there could be someone walking around out there, pretending to be me. I knew that they could be spending my money and getting into bars with my driver's license. It was an extreme situation.
You will be pleased to hear, gentle reader, that this grim picture I have been painting for you actually has a ray of hope shining rosily in the corner. The next morning I called the Lost and Found at the bus station, and to my great joy I found out that my wallet had been turned in, completely intact! I took a bus downtown to pick it up, and it was returned to me without a dime missing.
It makes me wonder, though. My entire life, my purses and wallets have struggled to get free from my grip. I have left my wallet in Wal-Mart, in grocery stores, and even at the zoo. Somehow, even the paranoia I now feel about setting my purse down in strange places didn't prevent me from leaving it on the bus last week. So, have I learned my lesson from this close call, or did the fortuitous turn of events that returned my wallet to me also prevent me from truly changing my scatterbrained ways? Will I have to irreversibly lose something in order for me to really learn my lesson?
I sure hope not. I don't think my heart can handle the shock!
I try. I try so hard to be responsible, to be on time, to be one of those trustworthy individuals that everyone can depend on.
But what did I do on Monday night? I completely ruined my reputation for responsibility (flimsy and false though it may be) by blithely walking off the bus without my wallet.
To complicate matters further, I didn't discover this dismaying fact until Wednesday, when I was looking for my wallet so I could buy some groceries. When I couldn't find it, I went into panic mode, and started tearing my room apart. When that yielded no results, I admitted to myself - a sinking feeling beginning to take over my gastrointestinal regions - that most likely, my wallet had wandered away from me, slyly remaining on the bus while I walked away, oblivious.
I felt as if it had betrayed me, like the One Ring betrayed Gollum.
Being one of those stupid people who keep every document necessary for their identity inside their wallet, I knew that if I didn't find my wallet, there could be someone walking around out there, pretending to be me. I knew that they could be spending my money and getting into bars with my driver's license. It was an extreme situation.
You will be pleased to hear, gentle reader, that this grim picture I have been painting for you actually has a ray of hope shining rosily in the corner. The next morning I called the Lost and Found at the bus station, and to my great joy I found out that my wallet had been turned in, completely intact! I took a bus downtown to pick it up, and it was returned to me without a dime missing.
It makes me wonder, though. My entire life, my purses and wallets have struggled to get free from my grip. I have left my wallet in Wal-Mart, in grocery stores, and even at the zoo. Somehow, even the paranoia I now feel about setting my purse down in strange places didn't prevent me from leaving it on the bus last week. So, have I learned my lesson from this close call, or did the fortuitous turn of events that returned my wallet to me also prevent me from truly changing my scatterbrained ways? Will I have to irreversibly lose something in order for me to really learn my lesson?
I sure hope not. I don't think my heart can handle the shock!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)