Thursday, March 24, 2005
Achtung!
Several thoughts lately:
1. Someone--I can't remember who-- told me a long time that if I were to embody any song in the world, it would be "Fuck You Lucy" by Atmosphere. I never thought anything of it, time passed, and then I heard the song recently, and was like, "What The Fuck?" And I wondered if I really was that kind of girl. Do I need a tattoo of Warning! on my persons somewhere? When I look at my track record, I am beginning to think so. I have only had my heart broken once, mashed underfoot by a louse, two crushes turned friends, otherwise leaving a trail of mulched blood pumpers behind me in the dust. I used to feel badly about this, but really...heartbreak makes you stronger- though admittedly as I have experienced, it doesn't seem like it at first. So yeah, whoever told me this song resembled or suited me, I don't know. But it is an awesome song nonetheless. Thought provoking.
2. I really need to get the hell out of this house. I'm really scared that I will get stuck here, though feasibly I won't. My parents both told me yesterday that "after a lot of heavy thinking, we've decided your sanity is more important then cutting costs, so we will help you when you move out if you need it." We'll see about that- I'm still a little leery about continuing to take money from them. I've figured out (with the aid of an unenthusiastic undergrad paper) that it hasn't been my pride at stake necessarily, but maybe even my entire sense of self. Terrifying.
3. I was talking to my friend Misha yesterday and found out she's only 19 years old. I didn't find out she was 19 until I cracked some joke about biological clocks after she told me she wasn't really concerned about finding someone to be with. I don't even know why this is important, but she seems so wizened and all-knowing, like Yoda. I always think of Yoda when I talk to Misha- it's the weirdest thing. With that, I've never seen such a calm and collected 19 year old in my life. She's also Catholic, so we've had some interesting discussions about her religion classes, and I have to admit, I think I'm missing out- on theology courses, not religion.
4. On the note of things I am missing out on....I was reading the paper and hemming and hawing over the St. Paul boycott by the Saddlelake reserve and Kehouin when I caught the name of a U of A prof giving some feedback in the article towards the situation. She's an aboriginal studies prof, and endeavoring to do the "Best Damn ..." on my marginal lit. assignment, I tracked her down on Wednesday. And holy crap- she's awesome. I'd seen her around before and never knew who she was or what she taught, having always assumed the worst of any prof I see in the Ed. building, especially since she had Velocirapter Gospel boy in her class before my Tuesday-Thursday morning classes. But we sat and we talked and man was she helpful. And the books she directed me to! I have this book called "Reservation X" by Gerald McMaster, that is fucking incroyable! And another one (basically, these are catelogues of his work, with some context) he did was called "The Cowboy/Indian Show" and man ... I am honestly getting excited about writing this paper. Ack, digression- We ended up talking about the frigid lake I used to live by, and how the situation was quite similar to that of the bands close to St. Paul, (ie: generalizations, and public segregation/condemnation, racism, etc) and also about what I was planning to teach, and where. And when I told her, I suddenly realized that I've been a complete idiot about my subject choices. I mean, my major and minor are still good (borderline useless perhaps...but at least something to go off) but I have no aboriginal studies background, and want to teach a) up north (read: larger aboriginal populace) or b) rural Australia (again, more aboriginals living outside of urban centers than not) or c) both --> and I've got no fucking background in it. Like, I feel like a retard being all idealistic with the idea I could just apply for a job somewhere like that and tell of all the dead white painters I know and how I can detail all their styles, teach their styles, and history and whatnot, and it's all canonical SHIT, and what the hell was I thinking? And she didn't know this was racing through my head, but she said, "why the heck aren't you in aboriginal studies? We need more students like you!" So...I've formulated a rough plan of action, which seems odd, because I haven't really taken a step forward in "future" planning for a while (fucksakes, I can't even muster the energy to phone SA and give them my SIN number for summer employment), that consists of this: I finish my degree. I go and teach for two years (preferably in Australia- depends), I come back, I do my Master's in Ed. with some aboriginal studies thrown into the degree somehow, *shudder* and then, I go and teach up north. Or rather, try to. I keep having polar bear nightmares. Really fucking bad ones. And of course...there is the rest of my youth that is going to get pilfered away in the process...also something weighing heavily on my mind.
Honestly, I think I'm fairly certain that I want to do my Master's now, and with this, I know it would open a lot of other doors, so really...I can plan until I'm blue in the face- it doesn't mean much at this point- but direction is good. And I think that if I really put myself to it, I could finish it pretty quickly.
5. I've been hurting to do some art lately. I need to do it, and I have no time. This summer I'm going to try and do more I think. And have a meticulously structured sleeping schedule, unlike last summer. Eight hours a night, max. Sleeping in on weekends only. But I'm going to have to do that anyways, because I need a second job. A restaurant opened in the old car wash by the vet in SA, I might jump down there and see if they need a waitress. Because it's a diner, and I've always wanted to be a fucking waitress in a diner. Or a bartender. It would rock.
6. I think my discs have not been able to properly expand for the last ten days, due to sleeping on the brown couch in the basement. But everytime I feel awful and want to bitch about it I'm like, "oh you dumbass- when you get your bed back, your grandmother is going to be gone. How does that feel?" Admittedly, I could sleep in grandma's room, but I can't even walk into that room without getting bad vibes, even when she was staying in there. In my entire life I have always gotten weird feelings from that room, even after my grandfather died in there- although the trauma of being there when it happened probably is part of my affliction. To go all JoJo's Psychic hotline on you- there is some weird energy in this entire house though. You never feel alone, no matter what the time, or where you are. I try and stay away from the small spaces for this reasoning, and have been more conscious of the dark here then I have ever been, except for St. Andrews which was a hotbed of creepiness.
7. I've been really sort of crabby as soon as I get home from school this week. My parents don't annoy me, but Godzilla feels that she must blame me for all the "customs" my parents (like they're foreigners) have been breaking, as if they're my responsibility, or my children to look after or something. It's like she forgets why they are here, and takes it as personal affront when they put the paring knives into the dishwasher instead of handwashing them and putting them back. Or, when they don't shake out the toaster. Or, when they don't pick up their crumbs off the floor by hand. Or, when they don't put all the plates on one side in order of size, and bowls on the other in the dishwasher. So, I get all the sideways glances, the muttered comments, snide remarks, and other general psychotic behavior channeled in my direction.
8. Grandma has been in good spirits lately. Still really tired, but more cheery then I've seen her in a while. I saw her yesterday and she told me that she was only having issue with how many people were constantly around, saying that, "it's like you're floating, but all these things are constantly walking around your periphery, just out of sight but still making noise." I really love her a lot. Everytime I go and see her though, it's nerve wracking to leave, because I sort of wonder if my goodbyes are good enough everytime I go, in case I don't see her again. And then I wonder what I could do to make my good bye the ultimate goodbye for both of us each time, and I don't know. I know she knows I love her though, and that is the important part. ¶ 11:27 PM
1. Someone--I can't remember who-- told me a long time that if I were to embody any song in the world, it would be "Fuck You Lucy" by Atmosphere. I never thought anything of it, time passed, and then I heard the song recently, and was like, "What The Fuck?" And I wondered if I really was that kind of girl. Do I need a tattoo of Warning! on my persons somewhere? When I look at my track record, I am beginning to think so. I have only had my heart broken once, mashed underfoot by a louse, two crushes turned friends, otherwise leaving a trail of mulched blood pumpers behind me in the dust. I used to feel badly about this, but really...heartbreak makes you stronger- though admittedly as I have experienced, it doesn't seem like it at first. So yeah, whoever told me this song resembled or suited me, I don't know. But it is an awesome song nonetheless. Thought provoking.
2. I really need to get the hell out of this house. I'm really scared that I will get stuck here, though feasibly I won't. My parents both told me yesterday that "after a lot of heavy thinking, we've decided your sanity is more important then cutting costs, so we will help you when you move out if you need it." We'll see about that- I'm still a little leery about continuing to take money from them. I've figured out (with the aid of an unenthusiastic undergrad paper) that it hasn't been my pride at stake necessarily, but maybe even my entire sense of self. Terrifying.
3. I was talking to my friend Misha yesterday and found out she's only 19 years old. I didn't find out she was 19 until I cracked some joke about biological clocks after she told me she wasn't really concerned about finding someone to be with. I don't even know why this is important, but she seems so wizened and all-knowing, like Yoda. I always think of Yoda when I talk to Misha- it's the weirdest thing. With that, I've never seen such a calm and collected 19 year old in my life. She's also Catholic, so we've had some interesting discussions about her religion classes, and I have to admit, I think I'm missing out- on theology courses, not religion.
4. On the note of things I am missing out on....I was reading the paper and hemming and hawing over the St. Paul boycott by the Saddlelake reserve and Kehouin when I caught the name of a U of A prof giving some feedback in the article towards the situation. She's an aboriginal studies prof, and endeavoring to do the "Best Damn ..." on my marginal lit. assignment, I tracked her down on Wednesday. And holy crap- she's awesome. I'd seen her around before and never knew who she was or what she taught, having always assumed the worst of any prof I see in the Ed. building, especially since she had Velocirapter Gospel boy in her class before my Tuesday-Thursday morning classes. But we sat and we talked and man was she helpful. And the books she directed me to! I have this book called "Reservation X" by Gerald McMaster, that is fucking incroyable! And another one (basically, these are catelogues of his work, with some context) he did was called "The Cowboy/Indian Show" and man ... I am honestly getting excited about writing this paper. Ack, digression- We ended up talking about the frigid lake I used to live by, and how the situation was quite similar to that of the bands close to St. Paul, (ie: generalizations, and public segregation/condemnation, racism, etc) and also about what I was planning to teach, and where. And when I told her, I suddenly realized that I've been a complete idiot about my subject choices. I mean, my major and minor are still good (borderline useless perhaps...but at least something to go off) but I have no aboriginal studies background, and want to teach a) up north (read: larger aboriginal populace) or b) rural Australia (again, more aboriginals living outside of urban centers than not) or c) both --> and I've got no fucking background in it. Like, I feel like a retard being all idealistic with the idea I could just apply for a job somewhere like that and tell of all the dead white painters I know and how I can detail all their styles, teach their styles, and history and whatnot, and it's all canonical SHIT, and what the hell was I thinking? And she didn't know this was racing through my head, but she said, "why the heck aren't you in aboriginal studies? We need more students like you!" So...I've formulated a rough plan of action, which seems odd, because I haven't really taken a step forward in "future" planning for a while (fucksakes, I can't even muster the energy to phone SA and give them my SIN number for summer employment), that consists of this: I finish my degree. I go and teach for two years (preferably in Australia- depends), I come back, I do my Master's in Ed. with some aboriginal studies thrown into the degree somehow, *shudder* and then, I go and teach up north. Or rather, try to. I keep having polar bear nightmares. Really fucking bad ones. And of course...there is the rest of my youth that is going to get pilfered away in the process...also something weighing heavily on my mind.
Honestly, I think I'm fairly certain that I want to do my Master's now, and with this, I know it would open a lot of other doors, so really...I can plan until I'm blue in the face- it doesn't mean much at this point- but direction is good. And I think that if I really put myself to it, I could finish it pretty quickly.
5. I've been hurting to do some art lately. I need to do it, and I have no time. This summer I'm going to try and do more I think. And have a meticulously structured sleeping schedule, unlike last summer. Eight hours a night, max. Sleeping in on weekends only. But I'm going to have to do that anyways, because I need a second job. A restaurant opened in the old car wash by the vet in SA, I might jump down there and see if they need a waitress. Because it's a diner, and I've always wanted to be a fucking waitress in a diner. Or a bartender. It would rock.
6. I think my discs have not been able to properly expand for the last ten days, due to sleeping on the brown couch in the basement. But everytime I feel awful and want to bitch about it I'm like, "oh you dumbass- when you get your bed back, your grandmother is going to be gone. How does that feel?" Admittedly, I could sleep in grandma's room, but I can't even walk into that room without getting bad vibes, even when she was staying in there. In my entire life I have always gotten weird feelings from that room, even after my grandfather died in there- although the trauma of being there when it happened probably is part of my affliction. To go all JoJo's Psychic hotline on you- there is some weird energy in this entire house though. You never feel alone, no matter what the time, or where you are. I try and stay away from the small spaces for this reasoning, and have been more conscious of the dark here then I have ever been, except for St. Andrews which was a hotbed of creepiness.
7. I've been really sort of crabby as soon as I get home from school this week. My parents don't annoy me, but Godzilla feels that she must blame me for all the "customs" my parents (like they're foreigners) have been breaking, as if they're my responsibility, or my children to look after or something. It's like she forgets why they are here, and takes it as personal affront when they put the paring knives into the dishwasher instead of handwashing them and putting them back. Or, when they don't shake out the toaster. Or, when they don't pick up their crumbs off the floor by hand. Or, when they don't put all the plates on one side in order of size, and bowls on the other in the dishwasher. So, I get all the sideways glances, the muttered comments, snide remarks, and other general psychotic behavior channeled in my direction.
8. Grandma has been in good spirits lately. Still really tired, but more cheery then I've seen her in a while. I saw her yesterday and she told me that she was only having issue with how many people were constantly around, saying that, "it's like you're floating, but all these things are constantly walking around your periphery, just out of sight but still making noise." I really love her a lot. Everytime I go and see her though, it's nerve wracking to leave, because I sort of wonder if my goodbyes are good enough everytime I go, in case I don't see her again. And then I wonder what I could do to make my good bye the ultimate goodbye for both of us each time, and I don't know. I know she knows I love her though, and that is the important part. ¶ 11:27 PM
