"i never meant to hurt you"

Mark today in your calendars, people. I made history. Today, I got in my very first car accident.

It's okay, everyone. I'm fine. Hardeep*, however, is definitely not. I was driving behind another car and then he braked hard and I couldn't brake fast enough. I rear-ended him on the Skyway bridge. His rear bumper is a bit unhinged and Hardeep is very hurt. The hood is bent. You can see his insides with a mere tilt of the head.

I'm upset. Hardeep and I have really bonded over the last couple months. He took me to my first day of school, he listened to me practise, he took me to dates and hosted serious conversations. I know he's just a car and that even giving a car a name is ridiculous. But I'm sad. It's really upsetting to see him so bent.

I feel so stupid for getting into an accident. On one hand I don't know what else I could have done. I wasn't tailgating and I braked as hard as I could. On the other hand, I know I do some stupid things when I'm driving - like change CDs or eat or try and dry my hair. But I wasn't doing that then. I don't know. Like, if the car in front of me could brake that fast, why couldn't I? Was I zoned out?

I'm going to have to take a GO train tomorrow. Which means I'll have to leave my house at about 6:30. Oy vey.

Poor Hardeep.




*Hardeep is the name of my car. He is named after the very abrasive, very funny man who sold him to us.

top 40

Since Hardeep* has become a major presence in my life, I have put all of my CDs within reaching distance of the drivers seat. This will ensure that I'll always have something to listen to. Oddly enough, I still find myself listening to the radio.

I'm not really a Top 40 kind of person, nor do I really listen to the traffic or weather. The only reason I turn on the radio is because I don't want to bother to choose my music. If I don't like my music, I'm stuck with the consequences of my choices, but if it's the radio and I don't like it, it's not my fault.

Isn't that weird?




*Hardeep, of course, is the name of my car.

the first lap

I have completed one school week, and it's exhausting to think that this is just the first in a series of repeating units. I have twelve more tap dancing classes, twelve more Shakespeare lectures, twelve more singing tutorials... it feels like a lot. And, of course, it's not like I'm counting down - it's just interesting to begin a routine. To think, every Monday morning, I'll start off the week with jazz dancing. Does this seem totally absurd to anyone else but me?

It's like running laps. The first one's all cool because it's your first one, but then you start to worry because that one lap wasn't extremely easy and you've already decided to do ten more. So you start the second one but with a little bit of panic because you're kind of already out of breath. "Can I really do ten?!" you say to yourself and you run around. "Maybe I'll just do five. No! I can't just give up like that. I've done this before. Was it always this hard? Should my legs be cramping this much this soon? Maybe I'm being too ambitious. I'm so tired. I hate running. No wait, I'm almost half-done my second lap. You can do it. I hope. Otherwise, you're pathetic." Running is mentally exhausting for me.

Anyway, here is the concern. One week of school and I'm tired. I've done EngSci. Does that mean anything in this totally different context? I often think that I can do anything - but, often (especially when it comes to running), that's not totally honest.

I also have this fear that as I am able to be more creative in real life, my blog will no longer be necessary as a creative outlet. So, I might post, but on top of it being depressing*, it'll be boring, too. How ridiculous is this? "Oh no! My creative expression is in real life rather than in my BLOG!" Being irrational is funny.




*That's right, everyone. I'm aware that my blog's depressing. Deal with it. It's supposed to be honest, jerks. I think I'll go turn off the lights and cry because I'm so misunderstood. I might even write an emo song.

eskited

Today went well and I am PSYCHED. I kinda get a similar feeling to when I started Eng Sci. All the professors were talking about The Next Four Years, and how it would change our lives and all the great people we would meet. They were right, of course. Eng Sci was difficult, and it did change my life and I met so many great people.

But for this, I'm actually really looking forward to the classes. I going to learn how to sing and dance and act! Not that classical mechanics wasn't fun (It was. I'm not being facetious.), but it's not like it was ever my dream to be able to do it. It was never my deep desire to be able to find a wave function for a finite potential well, unlike singing or acting well.

Boo yeah!

I'm really tired.

meet your fellow hot-air ballooners

This is a conversation that happened on Sunday:
"Guess what I'm doing three days from now!"
"Umm... You're going on a hot-air balloon ride?"
Pause. "Not a literal one."

Yesterday, I met a few of the other Music Theatre students. Now, I've posted before about how weird it is to meet a new group of people, except in this case, I'm not scoping out for good-looking boys, because 1. I'm going to be in a class with these people for a while; and 2. It's musical theatre, people. The boys are all very gay or very vain*. There is a very different feeling in this group than other groups I've met. They are all very talented, many of them are very young, and many of them are very experienced (in theatre). This feeling, I think, is a new type of intimidation. I've talked about how very blessed I was to get in, and now, I am comparing myself to all the people that very reasonably got in without as much divine intervention. So one hand, I'm thankful, but on the other hand, I'm FREAKED.

I'm putting my heart out there. This is something I really want to be good at, unlike engineering. We all want to be good, but I want to be good at this. Here goes nothing.





*The very vain straight boys in musical theatre is to be expected, and they can hardly be blamed. After all, being in a place where there are so many girls, they are bound to be desired and hooked up as much as they want, logically leading to vanity.

trying to lean forward

"The Selection Committee was most impressed with your achievements to date and with your potential for success at Sheridan. We wish you every success!"

I moved back to Stoney Creek yesterday and had this letter waiting for me. Thoughts:
1. Yay! I'm being looked after.
2. Yay! I have a room and drawers.
3. Ooh, wait. I'm not in Toronto, anymore...

The Almighty Selection Committee (to whom I am very grateful) was "most impressed" with what I've done so far. What have I done so far? I wrote a neat little essay to them a few months ago telling them how awesome I was, but I failed to convince myself.

A friend gave me a quote from On the Road.

"What is that feeling when you're driving away from people and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing? It's the too-huge world vaulting us, and it's good-by. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies."