Category Archives: beda

An update

An update

A bunch of things happened this week that put me in a contemplative mood. And also a mood that made it so I’d snap at everyone who even slightly irritated me. Have you no patience?, you ask. No, not really; not at the moment. I’m fed up with just about everything recently: my friends, my school/ work situation, my family (to a certain extent), and my writing.

First, I realised last weekend that this month is Blog Every Day April and, like last year, I’m behind. But this year, it just didn’t seem as important. Recently I read a blog by an online comic artist (I don’t remember which one, so don’t ask) who was quitting his comic because it had gotten to the point where, when he updated, his viewers would say “It’s about time!” instead of “Wow, thanks for putting out another strip!” Not that he was asking for thanks for every strip, but he felt like people were indignant when he didn’t provide instead of grateful when he did. He felt like they thought he owed them something. (Newsflash: he didn’t owe them anything. He was creating that comic out of the goodness of his heart because he loved drawing, and he wasn’t getting paid for it.) I’m getting to the point where people poke me and say, “Why haven’t you updated recently?” and they’re not just asking because they’re curious. They’re asking because they think I owe them a blog post. Which I don’t.

Second, Monday was the 25th birthday of a friend who didn’t live very long past her 24th birthday. I’ve been meaning to visit her grave and haven’t been able yet. I’m thinking about going this weekend or next week, when I’ll be on spring break.

Third, I’ve been seriously thinking of ditching my Twitter and/or Facebook and/or Formspring accounts. On the one hand, the most obvious of the three to delete would be Formspring because I’ve had it for the least amount of time and no one asks me questions on there anyway. At least not questions I feel comfortable answering without some serious thought. Twitter is similar, and also I’m just getting bored of it. On the other hand, Facebook is the most obvious because I’ve had it the longest and has therefore wasted my time the longest. I have friends who don’t have Facebook accounts and they do just fine without them. Or, I could delete all three because they just seem more and more like a waste of time.

I joined Facebook in the Autumn of 2004, during my sophomore year, at the insistence of a young woman who was, at the time, my dorm hall’s resident assistant and who later became my Big Sister in my sorority. It was when Facebook was still .edu email addresses only, and I wasn’t really interested then, either. It seems somewhat disingenuous to just delete it now, though, after I’ve amassed so many friends and have access to all their personal information, but I’m finding that other people having access to my personal information just puts me on edge. I’m a private person by nature, and this journal is already out there enough.

Fourth, and speaking of this journal… I’ve become aware of the disappointing fact (disappointing to me, at least) that this journal has recently become two things: a place for reviews and a place for Twitter updates. Neither of those things are bad, per se, but I want this to be focused on my writing, and not just in 140-character spurts. And not just critiquing other people’s writing/work. Since I finished my MFA in January, I’ve been drifting, and it hasn’t been a good feeling. I need direction in my life, and I’m not getting it from my friends or family any more than I was when I was in school. The logical part of my brain says, “More school”, but that can only take me so far.

At this point, I have no passion for any of the things I once did, except writing, and even that I don’t do enough to call myself a decent writer. It seems as though I have nothing to write about, and that’s dragging me down. I still have no work, and the two classes I’m taking are seriously bird classes, though I am learning a decent amount from both of them. What I’ve been doing so far hasn’t been working, obviously, so I have to change something or nothing will change. I have to stop assuming I’m owed something just because I’m alive and start working for it.

I’ve been letting my personal issues (OCD, friends, etc.) get in the way of success, and that’s not going to happen anymore. I’m going to work to become more assertive. I’m going to think about what I really want and then figure out a way to get it. Just because my friends aren’t doing well doesn’t make it okay for me to fail, too.

Phantom Regiment 2007 closer

Oh my GOD. The (important part of the) description of this video says:

Phantom Regiment drumline parking lot warmup of their “closer” on 10 August 2007 in Pasadena, CA, for DCI semi-finals performance…

… and I had been watching it for more than a minute when I realized “HEY THAT’S NOT A PARKING LOT SOMEWHERE IN PASADENA! OMG IT’S MY HIGH SCHOOL. OMFG.”

Yeah. I get excited about the weirdest things, I know.

Irregular Roundup #4

txts frm lst nght: drunk texting… as opposed to, you know, drunk dialing… and also, people apparently like not using vowels.

Bluecoats Drum Break Finals Night: Oh man, this takes me back. I remember watching the LCHS drumline doing exactly this type of thing, marching and all. Oh maaan… I miss band so bad. And hahaha, this makes me laugh. I remember all of band wearing running clothes (basically; none of the guys had shirts, and the girls were wearing sports bras or tight-fitting shirts), but they had their shakos (plumes and all) and marching shoes on. Haha… it was funny to watch, but they had to learn to march without letting their shakos fall off. Someone looking down at his feet while marching also meant that the plume wasn’t correctly oriented, so marching was really a trust-everyone-around-you type exercise. Only the tuba section wore something different (they wore berets, but I think that’s allowed when they have to carry freakin’ tubas everywhere). The guys in the video had it worse, though, because at least our uniforms didn’t have cuffs. I can imagine the poor snare drummers’ sticks getting caught in the cuffs if they weren’t careful. Hence the practice, I guess. Oh, and I remember this. The LC drumline did that kind of thing to practice when they didn’t have space for their snares and quads, etc. And, yeah… the “tut tut TUT TUT TUT tut tut tut tut” sound they’d make to keep time is something that is impossible to forget if you’ve ever been in an marching band. Yeeeeah. Oh drumline, you always were the hottie bad boys in band… but you were still in band. Hahaha. Tough luck. Also, best warm up ever.

An interesting look at sex and religion in the Philippines, in three parts.

Japanese Fairy Tales, translated by Lafcadio Hearn. What’s interesting to me about the fairy tales isn’t actually the tales themselves, it’s that Hearn—in the 1890s—moved to Japan, became a naturalized citizen, and took his Japanese wife’s surname… and was known thereafter as Koizumi Yakumo, at least in Japan. It kind of irks me that people don’t call him by the (Japanese) name he chose for himself, as if dismissing part of Japanese culture by dismissing his part in it. I’m not sure, it just seems off to disregard someone’s own name like that.

I want this shirt because I’m a sucker, but I don’t want to have to pay $15 for it because I’m cheap. Anyone else want to indulge me? ^_^

I recently discovered the awesomeness that is the Glock 23. For once, field stripping a gun is easy, though there is something to be said for watching someone field strip a larger weapon. Anyway, I’ve decided I like the Glock 23 for a very sick, sick reason, aside from the fact that Glocks are just hot. The reason is that the Glock 23 has no (external) safety mechanism. I know, I know; I’m a sick, sick woman… but still.

And yes, we all know this already. You jerks.

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

“Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”
by Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.