"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."

medals and scars

In Giant Killer Shark: The Musical, they sing, "Let's get drunk and compare scars in a slightly homoerotic fashion." Like in so many movies and situations, they wore their scars with pride like medals. Reasonably, they were proud of the things they had gotten through - especially if they had gotten hurt.

But what if they scars aren't physical? Can we really compare those? Can we ever be proud of them? Lately, I've been noticing that in the way I act, I've been metaphorically limping a bit. I'm noticing that when I want to do something one way, I'm strongly impeded from doing so, because of the things I've "gotten through".* The physical scars we compare are supposed to tell a story, but hopefully, they don't really leave people very broken. A trick knee or a weird fingernail may be inconvenient, but a fear of relationships or rampant insecurity can really affect one's life.

People do compare emotional scars like break-ups. Like the Bittergirls. At Sharron Matthew's cabaret, Mary Francis Moore and Alison Lawrence were talking about the Bittergirls being a movement of people talking their break-ups, and how talking about it and seeing that your problem is not old is supposed to make you not feel alone. That's not really the idea behind comparing physical scars, of course. I think the analogy can end there.

I don't know. Can I just resolve to stop acting scarred (Whoa. That word is really close to "scared")? Will that help even?

I should end with a joke. Umm. Uh. Okay, it looks like I'm fresh out of emotional scarring jokes. Anyone know any?








*Ambiguity noted.

when i all i have is on the floor divided

I think it's time to take stock of everything. Camp is over this week, and we are frantically trying to come up with ways to get rid of materials so we don't have to pack them up. And, as I have a huge tendency to read into things, I consider this as a metaphor for my life.

I feel like I'm taking stock of myself. This is Huge. It's not like I'm not constantly trying to better myself, but I've noticed over the last few years I've grown a lot, but not all the changes in me have been good. So, how are things going to change again when I move back in with my parents and attend a school with many people younger than me? What are the changes that have happened? What hasn't changed? Should these things change?!

I was going to say that part of taking stock was my friends, and I'm wondering whether this is a big mistake. Friendships should be organic, right? But, then again, is it bad to decide to keep in touch with some while admitting it probably wouldn't work with others? In a way, taking stock of my friends is like taking stock of myself - the people who have changed me, for the better or the worse.

I'm moving back to Stoney Creek in a little over a week. I don't have a lot of stuff - I can fit it all into a backpack. I might even be able to take the GO train. But I feel like my thoughts are too much for my brain and my emotions are too big for my heart. I really need to sort through. Chris said goodbye to Toronto in his blog and he's moving to BC. I'm moving an hour away and I'm moping too. But it's more than that. Everyone around me is transitioning.

Whoa. I think I need to sleep. Today's blog was undirecting meandering. I know the situation's not dire. I just need to take a break and breathe through all of this soon. Sorry, friends. If you want an interesting blog entry, you should read my seester's. She's very smart.

i have a friend named christopher crazypants

So, I did something bad. I have a tendency to make plans and then change them. This weekend was no exception - I made a million plans, then could only make half. On that other half was my dear friend Christopher Crazypants' farewell concert.

Let me tell you about Chris. I met Chris in high school, and he was always this vibrant presence. People would always say his name and be excited, because he was fun and fun followed him around. We were in band together and one day he asked me to accompany his flute on the piano. Thus began our friendship.

Over the last few years, Chris has gone through so much - enough to make anyone selfishly driven. He has big dreams, but he always was there to talk to me about mine and to encourage me to pursue them. Chris is a wonderful friend.

Now, Chris is going to UBC to study flute, something that he's wanted and worked for for a long time.* He deserves it so much, and I am so proud of him. But, this all means one thing. Chris is moving far away, and if all goes well, he probably won't be back in the area. Selfishly, I am sad. I'll miss him so much.

Anyway, this is my public apology for missing Chris' concert. I love you so much, Chris. You've added to my life, and I hope I have and will continue to add to yours.


*Awkward sentence noted.

another adventure

Here lies another tale of Esther - the young girl blessed and cursed with wittiness and awkwardness (respectively).

One day, Esther had the opportunity to obtain a key that would help her battle the curse of low self esteem, awkwardness and tactlessness. That key happened to be a special dragon - one with the power to battle the curse through laughter and sarcasm. The trick, however, was to win the dragon over. In order to unleash the dragon's power, one had to get into the dragon's cave, and in order to get into the dragon's cave, one had to be invited. So, ironically, our hero had to battle her curse for the key to help her battle her curse.

Knowing that the dragon's power would be invaluable, Esther decided to try.

"Who disturbs my slumber?" mumbled the dragon as Esther approached.

"I'm sorry for waking you," said Esther, apologetically. However, Esther quickly remembered that the dragon did not care for apologies. That was one thing she had been specifically instructed to do - never apologize. So, thinking quickly, she changed her tactics. "I had no idea that you'd still be asleep at one o'clock in the afternoon. What are you, a grad student?"

The dragon looked offended as Esther looked past him to see his many drafts of meaningless theses sitting on his desk. Esther smiled, hoping that she had made a relevent and tactful joke. The dragon began to cough. Esther ducked, expecting spurts of offended fire, but was then surprised by a very different sound - the dragon was laughing. Surprisingly, the Sarcasm Dragon appreciated sarcasm.

Understand that this was no mean task, for though her blessing gave her a quick wit to come up with quips, her curse took away the common sense of when it was appropriate.

The dragon gave Esther an appraising look and said, "Why don't you sit down?"

"No, thanks," Esther said. "I look skinnier standing up." The dragon gave a silent, questioning look. "I know! How is it even possible that I could look fatter than this? It's like if I sat down, I would break anyone's theoretical idea of the fattest person ever."

"No, that's not true," the dragon said out of politeness.

"Really? Because that's what my ex-boyfriend used to say." Once the dragon realized that Esther was joking (he was very polite), the dragon started howling.

Yes, Esther thought. I can use the curse of low self esteem to win over the dragon! Perhaps, this won't be so hard!

The whole situation looked very promising at this point, and Esther was looking forward to entering the dragon's cave, and unleashing the full power of the dragon's sarcasm to fight the curse. Esther and the dragon exchanged some more insulting comments, and the dragon asked Esther to return the next day.

Unfortunately, Esther was very unpatient. She thought that she should try and speed up the process by upping the intensity of her sarcasm. So, when Esther came in the next day, she said the most sarcastic, mean things she could think of, thinking that it would only make the dragon let her enter his cave faster. He laughed, many times incredulously, but Esther, because of the curse, did not notice. She only noticed that he was laughing.

Sadly, she had forgotten that all this time she had always been toeing the line between outrageous and tactless. And now, with the more intense sarcasm, she had begun to push the limit.

Now, Esther and the dragon had been joking around, and the dragon made an especially biting comment, which Esther didn't mind. Esther never minded any insults, usually, because the curse gave her such low self esteem that she usually agreed with them. However, Esther believed that she should act very offended to continue the bite of the comment.

"Shut up," Esther said, playfully, and she reached into her bag and threw the first thing she could find to throw, which was her snack, artificially cheese flavoured rice cakes. The dragon was, as many dragons are, very big and very strong, so Esther was sure that throwing something at him would be no big deal - no more than a playful expression of offendedness.

She was wrong.

As the powdered cheese hit the dragon's face, he began to freeze.

"What's happening?" asked Esther.

"Powdered cheese?! Don't you know that dragons and powdered cheese creates an endothermic reaction?"

Upon a tiny bit of reflection, Esther remembered the very first lesson in high school chemistry - dragons and artificial cheese flavouring causes freezing. Instantly, the dragon began to freeze, starting with the shoulders.

"I'm so sorry!" pleaded Esther.

"It's okay," said the dragon shortly.

"No, I'm really sorry. Oh no, I'm such a jerk. I am SO SORRY." Of course, Esther had forgotten the first rule of dragons - never apologize - and had now, broken the rule three times, on top of creating extreme discomfort for the dragon by freezing him.

The dragon's shoulders were now completely frozen. Esther was very flustered, and tried sarcasm again, which didn't work because the dragon's sarcasm powers were now gone as the powdered cheese did its work, and then tried apologizing again and again. This upset the dragon's internal chemistry so as to speed up the freezing. The dragon, being very polite, excused himself and rolled the very heavy stone that blocks the door to his cave.

The next day, Esther came by to see if the freezing had worn off. However, the dragon was very busy with his thesis, and though the freezing had worn off mostly, frost still remained on his shoulders. It would seem that this meant all was lost because this frost made the dragon immune to Esther's sarcasm. She no longer had something to win the dragon over so she could unleash his powers against the curse.

It is unknown whether the frost is permafrost, but Esther had lost hope. She would have to find another way to battle the curse of low self esteem, tactlessness, and awkwardness.