Ocean, It Swallowed

I'm not exactly the outdoors-y type, but the last two days I've been on a lot of nature walks. That's one great thing about Bellevue; there's parks and trails everywhere. I went on a trail that is supposed to lead from Lake Washington to Lake Sammamish, though I think that that is merely in theory; the trail itself lasts about .7 miles before suddenly ending. When I first found it, I was 10 years old, and the foreboding group of tall evergreens seemed to tell me not to go in too far. But really it's misleading; there is a short copse of evergreen trees, and once you keep travelling on the trail it immediately opens up to overgrown fields and short twiggy trees.


During my walk towards the master garden (a garden that leases space to private owners, but is open to the public for viewing) I was listening to Aziz Ansani's Intimate Moments for a Sensual Evening, and the combination of comedy and sunshine made it hard not to laugh to myself (though reflecting on it on a walk later that night, I realized just how close to insanity I really am. Take the ipod out of the equation and I have a voice talking to me that no one else can hear). But on the way back I decided to switch to The Books' The Lemon of Pink, and with waves of laughter and looping screams, I decided it was a chance to take my time and fully explore the area.


Which led me to a place that I feel truly privileged for seeing.


There was, to my left, a trail that twisted and turned into a wall of golden grass higher than my head. The turns were so sharp that it was impossible to tell exactly where it led, and I decided to go on it. After about 30 seconds, I already started to have misgivings. The trail twisted so hard that even though I knew I was close to the main trail, I could no longer see it; the solitude kicked my mind into hyperdrive and I soon imagined my dead body tossed to the side and no one ever knowing to find me there. But that feeling didn't last long, as the man-made trail suddenly opened up to the edge of a pond, and the sound of ducks reached my ears. The trail had led to a small pond that very few people must have seen, and these ducks, unlike the ones you see in parks, were not used to humans, and they warily watched me watch them.


The lack of people I let into my life now has opened up moments for me to feel less like an object functioning for others and more like myself. I imagine running into flowers and abandoning the burdens I've been carrying along with me like tiny wounds.

Your Sword's Grown Old and Rusty

Today had some minor successes. I went into the Magus Books store and bought myself three books (believe it or not, only coming to $25!). I chose Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy, The Hundred Secret Senses by Amy Tan and The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. About a month ago I bought Milan Kundera's Laughable Love. I am probably going to become Magus Books' regular customer, as I seem to have decided to begin to build the book collection of my dreams.


There is something to say about hardcover books. And not just the dime-a-dozen hardcover books you can buy anywhere, but the really beautiful hardcover books you'd find decades ago, with imprints and designs. Anna Karenina came in a wonderful green hard cover, with a protective sleeve whose inside is filled with a list of 365 other classic title. The other two books I found were, unfortunately, not hard cover, but they are beautiful nonetheless.


It's amazing how wonderful it is to be surrounded by books; I've always had a fondness for libraries, but the excitement of possible ownership of any book on any shelf is an entirely different experience (which is probably why I couldn't just stop at one book today).


And I have to say, the self-inflicted isolation is a marvelous break from reality; there is an immense burden that I've alleviated, and it actually allows me to reach out to people I run into much easier than before. I found that my choice to not talk to any friends or force contact with people has only led me to embrace the serendipitous occasions in which I run into someone -- today I found myself gushing to a girl I hadn't talked to since 10th grade. Without constantly checking my cell phone or keeping track of time or people, it's a wonderful release and an opportunity to just be out and about. I'm seriously considering deleting my Facebook and leaving my cell phone at home, and just to get rid of these socially intrusive tools that people use to excuse themselves from really caring about other people (while narcissistically forcing themselves on others with their frivolous status updates).


But at the same time I know that this type of social isolation isn't really a feasible reality. It's impossible to escape interacting with people; after all, I'm in this rat-race-of-a-world too.


Anyways, I am debating whether or not I want to use up another one of my 116 free breaks from this project. This Jamie Lidell album, Multiply, for all its merits, is hard for me to write about, and I don't feel like forcing myself to write something. I am pretty happy about the last two albums I reviewed, but I feel like my project is lacking in a more personal feel; if people were looking for music reviews, it would be more beneficial for them to look at Pitchfork or Popmatters.

Dig A Pony

I think that I might actually be solar powered; as soon as the sun goes, I feel as if I'm finished doing anything at all...like right now. Is it because I'm born in August? Unfortunately I'm also turning into a total, horrible grump.


Right now I am watching Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs; it's pretty straightforward in terms of plot, but the thing that makes the movie more interesting is that it has a sort of lack of reservation in terms of jokes, which just makes it fun, even if the storyline is predictable.


It will be sincerely good to stop being on winter vacation. I just realized that I'm really going to miss winter, as soon as it is over. Somehow the severe cold, short days and clear, crispness of the air is my type of weather. I'm not sure how I feel about the foggy, moistness that is spring. One good thing to look forward to is the return of green to Washington. So I am aware that it's a little contradictory to be solar powered and prefer cold, dark weather, but what can I say, it's possible in Washington.


Lately I've been feeling more connected to the Smiths. Who wouldn't connect to "Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want"? I shouldn't need to remind anyone about the lyrics, but here it is:
Good times for a change
see, the luck I've had
can make a good man
turn bad

So please please please
let me, let me, let me
let me get what I want
this time

Haven't had a dream in a long time
see, the life I've had
can make a good man bad

So for once in my life
let me get what I want
Lord knows it would be the first time
Lord knows it would be the first time


What marvels me is that when I first heard the Smiths, I hated them. They were a necessary evil that I had to listen to in order to understand all the millions of bands that sprouted because of the Smiths. I deleted them from my hard drive and thought, "Good riddance"; but listening to "There is a Light" again (courtesy of 500 Days of Summer, of course) required a second listen to the Smiths. What really tipped the scales for me was Hatful of Hollow, a collection of songs that I've never loved more.


Here is just a quick list of songs as reasons why we should all love the Smiths:
Reel Around the Fountain: "I dreamt about you last night/and I fell out of bed twice"
Girl Afraid: has to have one of the most perfect lyrics I've seen in a while.
Accept Yourself: "I am sick and I am dull/and I am plain/how dearly I'd love to get carried away/oh but dreams have a knack of just not coming true".


I could keep going, but I think that I'm gushing too much already. 


This shut -in needs to publish this post before it isn't today anymore.

Reprise

Sadly I am still not able to make a huge playlist tonight, since I have chosen to go on my sister's laptop.

So I have this terrible urge to be baking and cooking. Thus far I've made some chocolate chip cookies and tonight I made tortillas from scratch. To be honest? The tortillas were both simpler and harder than I thought it would be. And unfortunately they didn't taste as great as I had hoped. Buuuuut...they were still delicious.

And, just in case anyone else wants to make tortillas:

Just mix 3 cups of flour with 2 teaspoons of baking powder and 1 teaspoon of salt. Then, mix in 4-6 tablespoons of butter (though I think it would be better to use less) and 1 and 1/4 cups of warm water (mix the water in little by little). Then pull pieces off and roll into around 12-16 balls of dough and let them sit for about ten minutes, and warm a pan on medium heat. Then roll the balls into flat circular pieces and cook in the pan. They should be cooked fairly quickly. And you're finished!

Yaaaaay...

Freaking Internettt

Unfortunately today my internet has been a total bitch this entire day. Frustrating, really. I had hoped to do a very long music playlist today, but due to the late hour I will probably not do it.

So I actually have to figure out some movies to get for Thanksgiving weekend. It's been a tradition for us to sit together and eat pretty much all day and watch movies (typically westerns). I don't know what kind of movies we'll find from the library this year, so the responsibility of finding good movies to watch falls on me. In the quest to find a lot of movies to watch, I happened upon Mary and Max, which is an amazing animated film. It is definitely one of my top favorite films of this year.

I have a feeling that this entire blog post is not very well written. I feel that the best thing would be for me to stop here. And also I'd like to publish this while it's still today and not tomorrow.

Hoping to Have a Hoot

I'm relieved that we're slowly transitioning from early fall with its crisp morning air and flurries of tree debris to the dark depression of late November. You can already feel the holiday grumbles in the air.

I really want to go to Seattle soon and go antiquing. Sadly it's something I really enjoy. At the very least I'm sure that Pioneer Square is impressive this time of year, with the autumn leaves (though I strongly suspect that at this point they are only skeletons now).

Right now I am questing for a truly good jacket that I really connect with, and also a way to keep the Shel Silverstein poem Where the Sidewalk Ends in my pocket. I kind of want to learn how to stitch letterings so that I can sew it into my pockets. I would go so far as to keep it close to my skin, though I have a feeling that that would just be exceedingly corny (I feel as though I rarely have the lucidity of mind to think things through and realize how stupid I really am). But really, sometimes when things are so beautiful you don't want to let them go, I wish that it were possible to just keep it close to my skin.

Not exactly going along with the general depressing theme of this post, I recently started listening to Wild Beast's latest album, Two Dancers. I feel fairly unfortunate for getting their album so late in the game, but no matter what it's definitely better having it in my ipod now. Their opening track, "The Fun Powder Plot", with its booty calls (my boot, my boot, my boot!) and its Freudian slips is definitely one of my favorite songs at the moment. And not to mention "Hooting and Hollering", with its memorable music video. The album as a whole is really strong, with each song capable of standing alone, and working together as a whole to make one of this year's most enjoyable albums. Other favorites from the album include "All the King's Men" and "This is our Lot".

My Punishment for Fighting

Maybe this is because I failed to believe that money makes the world go 'round, as a child.

Growing up, I used to be extremely superstitious, basically after I discovered "bad luck" I lost the entire idea of responsibility for mistakes or the shame of failure. My dad liked to take my sister and I to the library, which, though usually considered a great place of knowledge, is actually equal parts nonsense and fact (I personally believe the scales are tipped towards nonsense, considering the immense collection of fictions, children's books, and not to mention biased books; if you need further proof, consider the fact that any book that has even a modicum of fact is most likely in the reference section and therefore not allowed to be checked out). That library is actually when I first came upon a big book of superstition, mainly folksy little rhymes that meant nothing but something I mistook for overlooked fact. Which is where I came upon a little tidbit of superstition that has unfortunately stuck with me for the rest of my life:

One crow unlucky, two crows lucky

Three crows healthy, four crows wealthy

Five crows sickness, Six crows death

This is mainly from memory, since I was probably six when I read it. Unfortunately I recited it in my mind religiously and when my parents drove me to my afterschool math class (they wanted me to be smart) I'd scan the skies for two crows so I'd know I'd pass my daily quiz.

This, as I've said, has stuck with me my entire life. I even shared it with my great grandmother, which caused my dad to think that I might be mentally ill (okay, I am a fan of the hyperbole, but he honestly thought there was something wrong with me). This morning I kept spotting single crows as I went to my bus stop and all the bus ride to the school. Of course I involuntarily remembered the little rhyme, but since I turned fourteen I stopped putting much stock in it.

But unfortunately today really was shitty. Studying did not go as planned, and many excruciating hours later, I ended up on the bus home. And it only took me half an hour to realize I had completely forgot my expensive architecture book at the bus stop, and already had to plan the lie to cover that up. The entire walk home was pretty much the only highlight of the entire day, in which I put my scarf over half of my face, turned up Dirty Projector's "Stillness is the Move" and screamed "UGHHHH" all the way home.

Getting home, and my mom sits me down and informs me that I am $110 over on my phone bill and that I have to pay the difference, which basically constitutes half of all the money I've saved up this year.

To top this all off, through a series of mistakes I've made the past year, my academic records are on hold and I am on academic probation. My financial aid was completely lost and I still have no idea the first step in changing this around. I currently owe over $7000 to the University of Washington, which I know I can find a way to fix, if only the weight of it all wasn't crushing me.

And the only thing that made sense at that point was to just walk outside and cry. Originally planning on walking to Robinswood park, I turned into the cul-de-sack by my house, which used to be my favorite place to bicycle. I walked the whole way, looking at how much things have changed since I was a child. My favorite trees, my favorite neighbors, my favorite blackberry bush, everything was different, dark and unhappy, and blurred by tears.

Here is the awful truth: the majority of my life I have spent believing that fairytales come true. I believed in soulmates, hearts tied together like anchors. I believed in families, in the sanctity of marriage, that money doesn't actually make the world go around. It wasn't until I was 18 that I actually gave up on that classic Disney storyline that something amazing was supposed to happen. I mean, there are the major moments early in life, like your sweet 16, turning 18, turning 21. And all I see is an incomprehensible mass of life moving through time and space. That we're all just faceless beings on an impersonal world. Yes, it's true we're all worm food in the end, but even that can't unite us.

It doesn't matter what I do for the rest of my life. That childish innocence that LIFE is ACTUALLY GOOD is gone forever.

Morning Light

So I am finally making good on my promise to come in every week to volunteer for Nancy...next week. (Haha!) I feel bad for being completely unreliable, but considering the little benefit I'm getting from the majority of the work I do there, it should be understandable. General responsibilities in the foreseeable future: tutoring middle school children (which, as far as the creepy child stereotype goes, a lot of them still fall under...it's not very fun to hang out with a kid when the only thing they'll do is stare blankly at your face), and volunteering for Carry5 and Water1st, as well as working on the youth advisory board.

The only thing that I'm really looking forward to is the holidays. Not because it's a fantastic cheery time of year and full of good will and all that other bullcrap they try to package in a card. But because it's the one time of the year that the majority of people actually sincerely try to pretend like their life could possibly be a model for a Hallmark card. Normally I dislike seeing all these fake people but sometimes it's nice to take a break and pretend with everyone else that it really is the most wonderful time of the year.

Other than that life is basically the same. The only other highlight is the possible ownership of an actual high quality camera. I don't pretend to be a good photographer or even an amateur. I will admit that I love beautiful looking cameras, as well as the wonderful pictures that come from them. I am tempted to figure out a way to buy an antique camera.

And I keep telling myself that I'm going to go see that famed Chewing Gum wall, or go to a park, or just basically go anywhere at all, but I'm a liar.

Elliott Smith - King's Crossing

Ughhhh

I hate being busy. Maybe it has to do with Milan Kundera's book, Slowness. Which basically discusses the relation between speed and forgetting. Then again, I could be honest and just admit that I hate being busy because I'm pretty lazy and would much rather be curled up at home with a cup of hot cocoa.

Which reminds me, I need to lay off the hot cocoa. It isn't even December yet but I've made a serious cut into my cocoa rations.

There is one overarching sound in my life, which is this: Ughhhhhhhhhhh.

I would like to play it all off, like life isn't corny and dramatic when you don't want it to be and painfully boring, despite the fact that you imagine you're the center of the universe.

And to top it off, my usual anchors, the people in my life that you can generally just drop a couple words by and feel like you're someplace safe, are scattered around the world, literally. I lost one to Uzbekistan, one to RISD, and one to time.

(Ughhhhhhh)

Oh, and if I may interrupt myself, I highly recommend Milan Kundera's works. Particularly Unbearable Lightness of Being, mainly because of the whole "lightness" concept which I find interesting. But also because it's a fairly interesting book with a very good plot and interesting writing technique. The majority of his stories follow the same style, in which a few characters' lives interweave and single events are seen at many different vantage points, with added philosophical meandering and just general poetry.

My favorite place right now is the UW libraries, among the book stacks. Unfortunately, I had a mishap and walked through section after section of books describing wars all around the globe spanning human history. It was a little disturbing, yet still satisfying to walk through and read some of the funniest book titles I've ever seen. And the Middle Eastern section of the library is full of beautiful hard cover books that look amazing. I like them even though I can't read any.

Funny eh?

I quite possibly had the best autumn morning of my life today. During the long walk to the bus stop I was accompanied by hundreds of maple seeds, looking like frantically flying moths. It was the most beautiful thing I've seen, one of the many reasons why early fall is one of my favorite times of the year.

I'm waiting for dinner.

No music today, not because there isn't things worth sharing but because I'm not in the mood.

Is Just It?

Rilo Kiley - It Just Is

Right now I like the imagery of roots and branches and veins.

A little sick of fighting? With everyone...

Friends that disappear. It's like losing a finger. The phantom limb?

People that expect too much.

Distance that grows with time.

It all sickens and tires me. I have no motivation to even smile.

The perfect day would be a day with close friends, with photography props and crazy themes and costumes, in a field and creating something with someone. That it might be possible, for just one day, to create a world, transpose the utopia in my mind to reality, and the evidence locked in pixels. That would be a wonderful day.

Weather vanes.

It's getting harder and harder to move.

OMG IT'S A NEW POST

Have I ever mentioned just how much I hate blogger templates? Choosing them out and all that. No matter which one you get, after a while they either seem too over the top or just subtly annoying. And the fact that it probably reflects something about the writer? I figuratively throw my hands up in the air with it all.

I do not understand what's so great about walnuts. Why are they all over my muffins and shit? Peanuts, almonds, walnuts, and pecans can all kiss my ass and stay the hell out of my food.

Here is what I hate the most about blogging. It's so pointless. What am I supposed to say here, what words will jump out in google search and make you read what I have to say. I could probably write the most disgusting racist bigotry and no one would notice. What if I was like Keiko Lynn and I just took pictures and wore wonderful clothes until people believed that they can find happiness in a vintage dress?

When I look into the future and try to decide what I want, what I'm working towards, all I can think is how wonderful it would be to live inside Andrew Bird's guitar, or in Zach Condon's french horn. I want to live inside the Flying Club Cup and then procreate with Armchair Apocrypha. Is that what other people feel too?

And I would love to hear what those albums sound like during sex. Amiright?

(Not) Fine For Now

Waiting for the next class to start. I keep forgetting that my bus is really full and that we have to take a detour due to construction. It's completely bananas. I ended up missing my class, though it wasn't on purpose.

I feel like I should just hibernate all winter.

VCR

The best part of my morning thus far is the anticipation of a cup of nice, warm, chai green tea. I originally bought it for my dad, but for subversive reasons; I've been aching to try it every since I caught a smell of its tantalizing aroma. And now I sit waiting for it to be ready for consumption.

I feel like I love Octobers. The certainty of the end of summer, and the quiet, muting presence of gray clouds. The memory of warmth that you can get from a cup of tea or a warm blanket, and the whole thing is nostalgia.

I'm missing the feel of an espresso machine under my fingertips. I miss the hiss of steam, the rising foam of the steamed milk. I miss the sound of the grinder and the smell of the espresso beans, and the creamy espresso shots filling the shot glasses. I've been contemplating applying for a job again in another cafe. Not that I need the extra responsibility; I just miss making coffee.

I am looking forward to really start working on the Water 1st Youth Advisory Board (W1YAB), however. It's the start of a new school year. It doesn't matter that little over a month ago I was still doing summer quarter, or that the bulk of my summer rest and relaxation lasted for a week, or that it came after summer had ended and fall had officially begun.

Anyways, Happy Birthday Ghandi! and here's to hoping everyone else can enjoy this wonderfully bleary day.

The xx - "Heart Skipped a Beat"

Getting it Wrong Almost Every Time

I've only just finished the first week of the new school year at UW (it's actually only been two days). A recent $10 bonus to my already scanty monthly allowance, and the apprehension of an 18 credit quarter (yes, I know I'm crazy) and somehow I already look like I haven't had a day of sleep for the last four months. And maybe there is some validity to that claim, as every night I spend whispering into my cell phone, imagining the electrical cords that keep my phone from dying mid-four-hour-conversations, is somehow magically winding it's way to my recipient, like an electrical futuristic version of strings and cans. Unfortunately, that's only a guess on my part, since I never had a friend to play strings and cans with, and besides that I highly doubt my mom would want to tempt fate by allowing me to get tetanus from rusty cans to the ear.

The revamping of Hipsteradio is hardly a permanent one, nor is it much awaited for and to be honest (and I have no reason to fear honesty here, since no one is reading) this is just a purely random revival of a long-dead blog. As the quarter drags on I highly doubt I'll be able to keep this up. But I will try.

So far I haven't yet worked out how to link music here. I forgot how to login to yousendit (and am too lazy to make a new account) and Google recently changed their sites application, so everything is tentative.

What classes are these, that they take all of my time? Introduction to Microeconomics, Introduction to Globalization, Appreciation of Architecture, and Language Policy. The only good thing about this quarter is that I now have my Fridays completely free. You would think with a perpetual three-day weekend this would be a piece of cake, but add on an internship, volunteering for a youth advisory board and possibly heading an organization at UW, and I think we can all agree that my time will be going by very quickly.

Hopefully this will just be enough to keep me on track and from slipping. I'm seriously contemplating jumping on the ADD bandwagon and getting myself a prescription for "student-enhancing drugs" (aka Ritalin), but I'm hoping I have enough determination and discipline that I won't need it. So far that hasn't held true; yesterday my mom caught me making origami stars, and today I've spent the majority of my time chatting, going on Facebook, reading Pitchfork, webcomics, and now this. I am certainly off to a great start.

And though I'm not deathly behind, and I have all THREE days of my weekend (I'm sorry, but I can't stop gloating over this), I went to buy my last textbook today and found out that it won't be in stock until probably next week, though that's not even a certainty. What does that mean for my studies? I'm going to be at least a week behind in readings. Hopefully I can just leech notes off of someone else, but I'm still not comfortable with the idea of it.

And so here concludes the first of probably very few blogs at the start of the quarter when I still have time to do things.

A little blurb: Jessie, I miss you! I hope you're doing great at RISD and it's hard having you on the other coast.

Fanfare

Wow...so yesterday's post is actually incomplete because I wanted to finish later and never got to it, and instead I ended up publishing it in a hurry. So it ends with an incomplete sentence.

I am supposed to be studying for my mid-term in my Intro to American Politics class right now. I am taking a short break because my everything is exhausted from studying so much. I don't know how late I will stay up tonight, but staying up until 4 and trying to wake up at 6 is not as fun as it sounds (and it does not sound very fun at all). My study anthem is Tokyo Police Club's song, "Citizens of Tomorrow." It just so happens to be perfect because it is a "futuristic" song set in 2009 where everyone is enslaved by robots, and I am studying American politics.

For my exam:
"Has the modern presidency gained too much power? Support your answer with examples from specific actions of modern presidents.
Modern presidencies now enslave boys and girls by forcing them to build spaceships at night while our robot masters attempt to clean up the ruins of the old world. They now put microchips in our heart so we can't run away and they can blow us apart at their discretion. In my opinion, that is way to much power."

But seriously, at this point I'm not even sure if I want to study it anymore. I also have another exam that same week for my oceanography class, which means I should start doing the readings and watching the lectures. I started the quarter off really strong, and I was about two weeks ahead in all of my classes, but somehow I am barely keeping up with everything now. This quarter has passed by so quickly, and soon I'll be worrying about finals and then trying to relax over spring break.

Did I ever mention that I might be graduating from the University of Washington by the time I'm 20? That is, if I figure out a major and work really hard to get all of the credits finished, and take summer quarters. Which is entirely possible. I like political science, and specifically American politics. I find it fascinating. But, on the other hand, I am now extremely freaked out and I feel like I'm already having a mid-life crisis. I mean, in my class we discuss President Bush's 2000 election, which was barely 9 years ago, and I was ten years old at the time. I was in fifth grade! That was barely half of my entire lifetime ago. I feel really young and now I'm supposed to decide what I'm going to do for the rest of my life right now.

I know I talk about this a lot, but I am simply not okay with finding a career that will only result in money, not a feeling of accomplishment, worth, beauty, or honesty. My sister and my mom actually tried to convince me to consider a business major, at which point I just started sobbing and saying that it isn't fair. A completely childlife reaction, I am aware, but legitimate all the same. I want a job where I can utilize all of my abilities. I want to use my mind and my body, and at the end of the day I want to feel like everything was worth it. I'm terrified with the idea that someday, I will be couped up in a cubicle and that I won't even remember having ever writing this or feeling this way.

I know that I act responsible, but I'm not. I'm a terrified child extremely opposed to being forced to grow up.

In the meantime, I'll be getting back to studying. As soon as next week is over, I will probably start trying to get more musical and less rantical.

Dull to Pause

Has anyone else noticed the ridiculously long label list? It's starting to bother me. I used to think unfondly of other blogs that had really stupidly long lists on the side of their page. But, I don't really know anymore. It's okay, for now, and I am too lazy to think of something that is nicer looking. I am aware that some of those labels are completely...ridiculous. I'm not sure if I really want to go through labels and figure things out.

Anyways, I am going to be going off today. I am...stupidly typing here because I really should be getting ready. I think I'm going through a bout of complete indecision; on Friday I changed my outfit six times. And normally I'm the type of person who throws things together and runs out. But to be fair, it was really my hair's fault. It screwed up the way everything looked. (Haha...I don't even know why I just typed that paragraph)

My mom has finally come around to the idea of becoming an intern for my friend Nancy. She's the same Nancy who created Carry5, and the one I've volunteered for for a few years now. A couple years ago Nancy offered me an internship, and my mom turned it down. Actually, when she heard about Carry5, she asked me if I was going to be one of those activists that get put in jail for rioting. Well, now that apparently I am really blowing through college quickly and should be thinking about internships and jobs, my mom has changed her position and wants me to take up an internship. I highly doubt she even remembers that she first opposed the idea of it.

I don't even know how that would go, me being an intern. I have a tendency for doing things that I think I can do, but in fact cannot at all. I don't know how I have gotten this far in life at all. Like becoming a barista without any experience, and I really should be getting ready to go. I will probably come back later and post more, but if not at least I posted this horrible rant.