I wish i could blame this nocturnal tendency on stress or school, but school's out!
I don't know what it is, it's not like it used to be back in highschool and CEGEP (aka college... sorta kinda, we quebecers are special... in an uber cool way) when I would pull random all nighters, but it's not that. I wish I knew what it were.
It doesn't feel to great either. I get nauseous and I feel like I'm suffocating in my own body. I've mentioned the fact to a couple of my friends and well, they think it's cause I think too much. I don't think... I feel. It comes as a surprise to many, but I'm the type of person that says or does... and then thinks. I don't regret a whole lot, no... but it it would save a lot of drama, woes and what not if I could get it to work in reverse.
It's true, winter semesters get me down... but as a good friend pointed it out... it's more than that that has got me down. It's up to me to find out and fix it. Soon. I beg.
On my mind right now: school.
School is not what it used to be. High school was exploring. I was shy and kept to myself for the most part. The people around me are the ones that woke me up to the person I am based on now. All throughout my childhood, my teachers would get frustrated. I recall them writing on report cards that I was creative yes, but that I would never express my feelings or share what I thought. Now I don't shut up. I'm all about throwing on to unsuspecting victims the wrath of my opinions on varied subjects.
Feelings... I don't really like to go there.
But the point is by the end of High school I was talking.
Of course one cannot neglect the other purpose high school served me, bringing me to the most important of acknowledgements: the female is perhaps the most dangerous creature to creep the earth. As loving as we can be, the way our head works is really something else... I don't even understand us. Anyhow, that's a different topic of discussion that my mind doesn't need to explore at the moment cause I'm clearly thinking too much as it is. Back to high school. No, i would never want to go back... but to relive those carefree, do shit all in class and manage respectable grades days? I would more than love too.
Then came CEGEP, the 2 most trying academic and social years of my life.
Many cautioned me against diving head first into the pavement that was the stuck up, private French CEGEP I so gracefully attended (*cough* NOT). The stuck up and private part I had gained experience dealing with in high school and the catholic only girls part definitely raised the standards of "building character" against a whole load of crap. I digress. The first day was terrifying cause not only was everyone super thin and gorgeous and speaking in French... I was one of the few South Asian kids there. When I say few I literally mean 3. I managed to make friends, and soon after that wasn't so much an issue and I was having more fun than I should have and was failing to keep up with the demands of my program. The French was not making anything easier and it was my weakest subject. It hit me in the face like a speeding mack truck as I was finding myself having to leave my program of choice just to stay in school. It was the first time that I was lacking to that level as a student. By no means do I pretend to have been a perfect student, but good grades were all that I really knew. I never regretted accepting to attend a French CEGEP and still stand by my choice. Our choice. It wasn't only for me, it was for my mom... she had me swear that I would never hold it against her and I don't. I had managed mediocre grades by my own standards and had raised my standings in the program to leave the school 5 semesters later rather than the original 4 and with my sense of pride still in tact albeit bruised. My French skills had improved a great deal and that was truly gratifying. I have an obsession with the language. I have a growing obsession for languages and methods of communication. I like words. I like new and different... quirky and intellectual sounding words. The words we choose and how we say them can really change how one perceives another. It's fascinating really!
Applying to University was a frightening experience. I always feel alone when entering new things. University was no different. My friends had gone their ways and a semester ahead of me at that. I was feeling lost, not knowing what to list in the choices of programs. All of them were so difficult to understand. I could hardly make a choice and so I didn't. I applied for all the science programs that I could, and ranked my preference by coin toss. Oki maybe not coin toss, but hardly any thought went into it. My goal was to get into the university system and then figure it out. To my delight and utter shock I had been accepted to both universities I had applied to, and I had to make a choice. This time the choice was exclusively mine. It was either the university with an international reputation in particular for the field of science or it what was the university with not so much of a reputation in science but with a social atmosphere that made me feel comfortable. I don't kid myself... it didn't mean that I could pull another high school and do no work... In fact, this past year has proven to be exactly the opposite.
An extremely bumpy start, the first semester was a rude awakening. It took me the entire 4 months that it was to understand the way it works. Sure, no one is checking up on you. And not many hours of in class time or lab time. But this did not mean slacking as I had mistook it for. It meant getting your act together, achieving some form of discipline and being your own boss and making sure that you keep up to date with your courses even if no one asked you to. Too many responsibilities packaged in to one. I also have lost my motivation. I question my intentions and my motives... whether I am really doing what I want to be doing. Then of course I ask myself : "what do I want?"... I don't know. Is it stupid that I don't know? I don't know how to find out either... just too many dreams and no means by which to achieve them.
I'm still alive one year later but barely holding on. This semester was not one that I would want to repeat. It was plagued with laziness and excuses and a whole lot of doing absolutely nothing. It's over now and not much I can do about it. The fact that I am on "vacation", whatever that is, has yet to sink in.
On the bright side, the HABS made it to the second round!! They rose from being ranked eighth seed and a 1-3 series to take it all away from the number one ranked team! Talk about power to the underdog, WOOOHOOO! They made believers out of non believers... it was kinda beautiful (queue music, sniff...*BARF*) SOO PROUD of the boys!!!
OHHHHHHHH! before I leave (I'm still not sleepy) two things: one, I watched What's your rashee, and loved it. I'm not one for horoscopes and astrology and what not... but it was cute and I think I am in love with Harman Baweja (WTH?! I know right! I never thought I would!) and two, the most creepiest of incidents happened to me this week:
*the incident*
scenario :
I am on the metro sulking my way home after a brutal exam (organic chemical murder remember?)
As the metro rolls into to one of the stations I scan the passengers slowing approaching the edge of the platform and I briefly recognize the figure of a brown man... all brown people have the "brown radar", we can't help it... whatever, it hardly registers on to my subconscious... that is until I see the guy sprinting to catch up with my wagon :|... As I'm watching him run I get this odd feeling he is coming to speak to me. Metro doors open, he comes in and conveniently sits in front of me. I do my best not to make eye contact cause the last thing I want is a conversation... I had yet to conquer the chemical mechanisms that were rushing through my thoughts... lord knows otherwise I would have given him a piece of my mind.
BON, so for a good 3 stops I avoid eye contact... I also have my music blasting my ear drums to epithelial dust (all those that have taken an anatomy class, I don't know what ear drums are made of but some type of epithelial tissue seems about right) and then I give into this nervous tick I have... that is to check the time (one of my greatest fears : time. don't ask, it petrifies me)... the time on the metro screen (what do you call that thing?) seems wrong to me. I am bothered by the fact that the hour seems off and dig into my winter coat's pocket (YES... you heard right, WINTER coat... it snowed!) to find my cell. I was right... the metro time was four minutes behind. Mind you, minutes are critical... you can make or miss a connecting bus by a minute. Bad bad thing to do when you live in the middle of nowhere and it's dark and cold out. Pleased with myself for having rightfully judged the time wrong I drop my cell back into my pocket and... look straight up at my companion. OOPS! He asks me for the time in Tamil... and I mutter 10:30... apparently I have no control over my mouth!!! Then he says to me (you're wondering what happened to my blasting music and how I am hearing him all of a sudden right? the song had gone from Drop the world to Make you love me... which is significantly lower in volume):
He: "I've seen you around a lot and I've been meaning to talk to you... can we talk?"
Me: *WTFFFF :|* (in my head of course)
Me: *shakes my head no*
He: We can't talk?
Me: *shakes my head no*
He: "or YOU can't talk?"
Me: *shakes my head no*
He: "soooooooo, we can't talk?"
Me: nope. (oh great! i've regained control of my mouth -_- perfect timing)
He looks at me for some time... than fidgits with his cell...we reach the terminus and he walks off... and... thats it.
LIKE WHAT THE HELL.
fine... it doesn't sound as creepy and annoying now... but it was I assure you.
Funny thing is... it's not the first time someone asks me permission to talk to me... the concept is quite odd.
blog, I think I'm going to try and sleep... a little Adele might help.
It was lovely spending some time together... we should do it more often.
XOXO
