Wednesdays

I've hated Wednesdays ever since 8th grade when my church reorganized boundries and Brittany and I were no longer in the same ward with Dylan. That made Wednesday youth nights a whole lot more fun. Once it was over, Wednesday went back to being the "I-can't-believe-it's-only-the-middle-of-the-week" day. Age 14 was my only girly crush phase. I was pretty ridiculous and my family and friends let me know, but nothing they said could convince me. Don't worry though, I grew out of it soon in my own time. I always do things in my own time. I had one more slightly less immature crush on another boy, but ever since then (age 15), I've never had a legitimate crush on anyone that lasted more than a week. Yeah I've definitely met people that I'd love to get to know, but I don't waste time on things that are unlikely to happen. I learned that at the ripe old age of 15 when my heart was crushed by unsaid crush. Tragic, yes, but I moved on. Now I never hang out with anyone long enough to develop feelings for them. It's just a waste of energy, and I often feel like Tom in 500 Days of Summer in the Reality vs. Expectations scene. Everytime I work things up in my mind, make little things mean big things, hold on to the slightest inklings of anything, and it always does...well, nothing because it was nothing in the first place. Err go: I always feel awkward in girl talk because I'm severely lacking in experience to contribute.

Meh. That's life.

the world forgetting by the world forgot

Love love l o v e Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

I guess I'm just a fan of quirky, thought-provoking movies about off-beat relationships. Sensing a pattern anyone?

Eternal Sunshine though is quite different than 500 days of Summer in its stylistic approach and character development. The agenda is also completely different. It's so weird how a similar archetype can be developed into something extraordinarily unique.

This movie has been haunting me all day. If you could erase the painful memories, the sour relationships, the regrets, the rash words...would you? Does this make our lives fundamentally better to forget all the bad?

The irony is in the title, which is a quote from Alexander Pope. Forgetfulness does not produce eternal sunshine. Ignorance is not bliss. It's more like a dreary day. You're stuck in limbo between the warmth and happiness of the summer sun and the crisp, sometimes unbearable cold of the winter months. Yet in their juxtaposition, they complete each other. Moderate temperature is the most loathed of all. It masquerades as a means to an end. It gives the promise of the tipping scale, but it really just leaves you longing. Longing for something more than dull and mediocre. Getting rid of the bad inherently pulls the good with it and you're left in the middle of the road with nowhere to go.

Before I drown in the philosophical deep end, see the movie. It's lovely.

2010...so weird

Well, here it is--another year, another decade.

It's late, so I'll ramble about my thoughts on that subject later.

The break went by fast. Too fast. I did, however, finish all ten seasons of Law & Order: SVU. That's embarrassing, I know, so don't do the math to calculate how many hows of my life I wasted away. What is even more pathetic is that I only watched the whole ten seasons to gather every bit of evidence of Olivia and Elliot's more-than-partners relationship, which is open to extreme interpretation. Nothing every happens, and I knew that from the beginning. (And I don't condone adultery. Somehow I think one day Elliot's family will disappear or he'll get another divorce or something and things will just work out--even though it is not in the show's best interest.) I also have this OCD thing where I have to finish what I start. Once I started at the beginning, I had to watch all ten seasons as fast as possible to get it all done. This is why I procrastinate papers, tests, etc. I like getting things done all at once. I want results now. I want to be done now. I want to change now. I want to get this over with now. I wanted to have all the SVU knowledge now. This is also why I am a terrible goal setter, and an even more terrible goal achiever. I'm impatient with the process. It's why I can never be an artist as much as I would like to be. I never had the brain for it, and it takes so much time and energy and thought and patience. This is also why I am prone to buying Kashi or Amy's Kitchen frozen dinners. Dinner in 3 minutes? I'm taken.

Sometimes I think I need to get out of the left lane, and just go the speed limit awhile.

can we just stop this cruel game???

So...maybe finals aren't going as planned. (READ: I've been extremely distracted with SVU marathons and still haven't taken the two finals I was supposed to take...by Tuesday.)

So here's the plan: Study all night. Take physics in the morning and physiology in the afternoon. Come home. Pack. Clean. Sleeeeeeep.

Then I get to wake up dark and early at 5:00 a.m. on Friday morning and drive for 13 hours in Lennon. Lennon is my hunter green ghetto honda civic (probably needed to capitalize something in there...) I don't think I've explained Lennon's naming process. Naming a car is a very important thing. Cars just seem to have personalities to me (and I'm not even a car person...) Anyway, when I first got Lennon, I knew he was a boy...actually an older, worn-out man. He got his name because he is an earthy hippie kind of color. Since he's a civic, he's a classic. Something that lasts forever--like the Beatles. They will always be played and enjoyed just like civics will always be not too cool and not too lame. Also, when I first got the [used] car it smelled pleasantly like marijuana. Contrary to my mom's insistance that I was wrong, someone had most definitely hit the peace pipe in that car a fair few times. And we all know the about the chemically good times the Beatles had. So my car's name is Lennon--like the older "Imagine" era Lennon. He's had his good run, and now he's just cruising and will probably die out of the blue one day (may you rest in peace, John).

So there's your ramble for the night. Time for an all-nighter. i love my life. (In a couple days that won't be sarcastic.

I'm baaaaaack

Maybe I'll try this blogging thing again. My New Year's resolutions from last year are laugable, but it's almost time to make another list.

And I was almost going to abandon this blog forever until I saw that Tommy was a follower. I was pretty sure I was the only one who had read my blog for like the first year it was created. But it made me smile that someone else cared or even just randomly stumbled upon it. That's because I don't like being those people who post in their facebook statuses (stati??) things like: "everyone read my blog now!" (read: "I want to impress you with how blog savvy I am and casually throw out some pretentious thoughts.") Not all blogs are like this, but I'm sure you've all come across a blog or two in this fashion.

Anyway, I'm rambling, but I just want to say to the internet world that I am going to take up a little more cyberspace these days with my inquiries, ponderings, musings, rants, annoyances, gratitude, and most of all ramblings.

See, in all our searching, the only thing we've found that makes the emptiness bearable, is each other

That comes from one of my favorite movies.

Anyway, one of my favorite websites is Postsecret.com. I don't know the history, but somehow this guy named Frank has all these people send him their secrets and he posts them once a week as an ongoing art project. I deeply love this art project. It is real and vulnerable and raw and emotive. Even if the secret has never personally happened to me, I can always connect to the fact of holding on to something so long and letting it weigh you down. I know that feeling of holding something precious in your mind and building walls around it and chaining it up and burying it deep so that it is never discovered. Post secret shows how amongst our differences, at the heart of things we are similar--not robot clone similar--but like everything fits like puzzle pieces to produce a picture of true humanity. We often ignore the fact that we all feel scared; we all feel vulnerable; we all feel guilty; we all want to hide something and show the world something else. Let's be honest. No one is an open book. That's not pessimistic; it's just honest. I think almost everybody has a front they put on. Everyone is weird (for lack of a better word), but we all buffer the weirdness, so that other people restraining their weirdness will like us. Why don't we just be ourselves? Why don't we just say what we mean and mean what we say? Why do we tip-toe around words like "love" and "commitment?" Why do we even have secrets? Why do we need approval from others? I think most people are simply scared--scared out of their minds. Fear of being alone is one of the most prominent on people's mind. We are afraid to get rejected and emotionally stranded on an island. We want human connection so desperately, but we all act like we are Okay, Fine, Good. We are invinsible. We are taught not to need. But there comes a time when we have to be honest with ourselves and say "Life's a fact." We can understand each other if we just communicate and throw our thoughts out there. I try to be as real as I can, but I'm not going to pretend that everything is peachy in my life all the time and I have no regrets and that I always live everyday to the fullest and don't care what others think about me and so forth. Because it's not entirely true.

I had more to say, but it's late and I think I'm starting to ramble...