Disney's Greatest Downfall

I love the happiest place on earth. It really does make me epically happy, like a child. I will wait longest in a line for my favourite ride as a kid and then refuse to wait for my current favourite ride if the line is long. I guess sentiment and memories mean a lot. That place brings up a lot. Times as a child, family vacations, roadtrips with friends and bonding with a sibling. And yet at the core of it all there is a fatal flaw. One thing that rips at my heartstrings amidst the glory of it all. The love stories.

I am a sucker for Disney love stories. I grew up on Disney films and know most of them far too well. I may not be a princessy type of person in anyway but I cant help but smile when Aladin and Jasmin are together or when I think of Belle and the Beast, or Aurora and her prince.. and the list just goes on and on. The characters, the story, the romance, its is all so perfectly created. A clear example of why Disney has made such a name for itself over the decades. So what could possibly be the flaw amidst all of this perfection you ask?

Its the fact that I see love in that fairytale, perfect, happy ending, prince charming sort of way. I spent all of those secret mental moments in lines thinking of those endings and their beginnings and trying to piece something of the remnants of my past into anything near that. I searched those dark corners of my memory wondering if I missed something, if currently there was something brewing, if I even knew how those tales could translate to real life. I still dont know if I can come up with anything. The attempt to connect it just seems foggy and disjointed. I think Disney has entirely warped my sense and understanding of love, and I am not sure how I even feel about it.

Dorothy Got It Right

I have been gone before for months at a time. And coming home was always nice. Just nice. This time it wasnt like that. I finally understand Dorothy. There really is "no place like home". Maybe its because when my little brother walked in that door from work I ran and jumped up to hug him and he swung me around and I realized he is the one guy in my life that I know will always be there and will always love me. Or maybe I realized it when I saw how perfectly my mother had laid out a room for me with all of my favourite things, including spiderman fruit snacks. Or maybe just sitting at the dinner table laughing, or going to Walmart or watching stupid shows was all I would have needed It only took a few hours and I realized this will always be my real home.

I often feel like I have no sure ties. No place I have to go back to. That I am so free and can do anything I want anywhere I want. But ultimately I can never be gone from here for forever. I cant live without these people, even though I am sure in another day I will be writing about how mental they make me. Regardless, I am so happy at this moment and for once I know that Dorothy said it much better than I could have. I like being home.

The Sunday I Took Back

I did it in both ways. First I time travelled. Literally. I left Brisbane at 330pm on a sunday and arrived in LA just before 330 pm on the same day. It was like I made time stop and move back a bit. The day was so epically long. Then I went to Taking Back Sunday. John is back. Thats what matters most for them. What mattered most for me was I took the day back. I saw Adam and John and they played music that made my soul rather happy. And I flew to LA and I saw a best friend and my sister. No one could ask for much more in a day. Ever. I have like 7 seconds on the ridiculous expensive internet that exists in my hotel, but I really miss my blog and hate that part of travelling. So I just had to make one quick not. The Sunday I took back was perfect. So perfect. I like time travel. xo

ps many many many posts from my North American Tour will be coming soon.

Minding the Gap

Mind the Gap. Watch Your Step.

They are just reminders to be aware of the distance and to bridge it before someone gets hurt, namely yourself. Today I am minding that gap. I am closing the distance. I am heading home. I am going to hop a plane and start bridging that distance that I feel from so many people.

I used to think being a 14 hour drive away was too far. It seems impossibly far. How could you maintain anything that far away? I just didnt realize how big the world was. It will be like 16 hours of straight flying today. Maybe more. And that doesnt even get me home. That just gets me to another city in another country. And the second I land I know I will feel home. Just being in North America I will feel so near everyone. Like anything is possible. I am anxious. I am nervous. I just want to be sitting on the second plane relaxing, forgetting about life. Watching the gap being minded.

I am coming home.

You're Just Damage Control For A Walking Corpse

I felt nothing. Not nothing exactly. I felt a bit in my stomach, I must have been starving. And I felt an aching where my soul should be, however it was long lost somewhere amongst the unreasonable hours in the library. It was over and yet the relief, the joy, the feeling of accomplishment was not there. I felt nothing. 

That must be what its like for walking corpses, they work so hard and still feel nothing. Nothing at all. Its because they are dead. Sometimes I feel so numb its as if I cant feel anything. This week took everything I have it seems. I am so mentally exhausted I dont know how I can even write. My body aches with fatigue and pain. My emotions are on edge. 

My bags are half packed. My clothes are still hanging to dry. And yet I have to lay down. I cant repack. I cant make sure everything is in order. It will come down to the end. Most likely to the moments before I leave. And yet I feel more at peace with that than anything else. I am finally just listening to my body and allowing it to relax. To take a few hours to not be overwhelmed with immense amounts of work. To not have to feel anything.  To remember that its just a few hours til everything changes again for a short time. I should find someone to run damage control for me. I am too exhausted to feel, to make decisions, to know whats best. Too worn out to continually contemplate he said she said words that make me wonder if there is someone possibly one day that I know or not. Too tired to write many more words to even express the numbness.

Sometimes feeling nothing is a much desired break from reality. Walking corpses dont always have it off the worst.

Desk 8

Every morning with the minutes being just around 9 I walk in. Usually the same person is there. My card is out and I ask for the same thing, the key to desk 8. They give it to me and say due back at 3, it never its. By the time I get to  my desk I have booked it til close or 6 depending on the day. And I unpack. The top drawer is for snacks, the middle drawer for lectures once they are reviewed and the bottom drawer for my bakpack. The desk holds my labelled pencil case, my water bottle, my phone charger, my notebook and whatever lectures I am working on. Its the same everyday.

Desk 8 is like my new home. And yet today is the last day for a few weeks. I just realized its closed tomorrow and my exam is prior to noon so we will see what happens I suppose.

Its odd how life happens. How time goes by so slowly and so quickly. How we adapt. How we change our of necessity. I think back to who I was and where I was 7.5 months ago and I can barely remember that person. So much has changed and it makes me apprehensive. I am days away from home, from a continent full or people and memories and the past and yet I already know I will miss my new home. Even though its only seperation for a few weeks and I miss so much about north america I have come to adapt and love this place. I actually like desk 8, I like my room, my house, my housemates, my friends. I like the therapeutic train rides to work and I really like my job. Yes, everything has changed since I moved here, and I realized it at desk 8.

The Heart of Persuasion

I am sick of writing these posts. Not in general. Just the ones about that awful, all consuming word. And yet my fingers ignore my screaming mind and keep typing. It feels like my heart has started a mutiny against my brain and everyone is jumping ship. Leaving my brain looking off at all the rest of me drowning, thinking "what idiots, if only they listened and stayed on the ship where it was safe, I was only trying to protect them". And yet when a mutiny happens its not usually because the captain is wrong. Its because someone else is more persuasive. My heart is awfully persuasive I suppose.

I was sitting here. Doing nothing productive I suppose. Next thing I knew I noticed that I still have a seperate group on my fb chat for him. Knowing he would be asleep I decided to skim his page, something I hadnt done recently, not like before when we used to chat for ages. My heart got that deep aching longing feeling. The one that reminded me that I could see him soon. Really soon when you think about how I have been overseas for 7.5 months. It was a feeling of missing, of longing, of remembrance, of heartache. I brushed it off. Tiny moments of time passed and then suddenly he was online chatting with me. Nothing important. Nothing meaningful really. Just words. Words put together. Nothing. And yet there was just so much. Every word was like a little spark. I am terrified that if I dont see you then I will always wonder. And that if I do see you that you will just say the right things and then I will leave and feel empty and alone again. 

I can feel my heart of persuasion slowly chipping away at the rest of me. Its saying all of the right things to trick me into opening back up and making a stop by your state. Only time will tell what is more persuasive, my brain or my heart.

Unrobot Like Occurrences

Yesterday I said I wished I was a robot. I did. I thought about it logically and the idea of not feeling seemed appealing. Then hours passed. Maybe like twenty four. And I found myself being so grateful I wasnt a robot. For the exact reasons I wanted to be robot I dont want to be one.

Lately I feel emotions really intensely. Its not overly long lasting, but in the moment its super intense and real. Its that urge to just scream my lungs out. Its the tears that fall in such a perfect line and make every part of me physically ache. Its the deep empty longing. Its the feeling of warmth and glory when the sun hits my face. Its the feeling you get when you are laughing so hard and cant stop. Its not something small lately. Its just short and intense. Moments pure enough to remind me all of the reasons I am human. Just powerful enough to break my heart, or remind me of what love is.

Its these moments intertwined with just mundane ordinary days that make it all seem worth it. The painful ones come from perfect times long passed, or things that fell apart. The ones of longing remind me of what is to come and what brought me here. The ones of strength remind me that I am never alone.

I spent so many years burying emotion, loathing it, thinking it make me appear weak. So sometimes its hard to just accept it and bask in it. I am trying to let my tears mean something when they come. I am trying to feel heartache with the reminder that it means I knew love. I am trying to take that intensity and turn it into something. I am going to nail being human.

Enveloped Ears

I like to hear nothing but the music. There is a reason I buy noise-reducing headphones and turn my music up. I get distracted. Distracted by each page turning, each set of audible footprints, each bag being opened or each apple being bitten into. So as soon as I sit down the playlist is chosen and the headphones are inserted. I love that feeling that there is nothing else. That no one else exists in that moment. That its just you, your music and your notes. Its like a secret getaway from reality without having to go anywhere.

The only downside is when someone approaches you and you actually dont know they are there until they are right there in your face touching your things. Thats when it feels a little sketchy and alarming. However, its worth the downside. Even in my own room to just drown our the world and let my ears and then my soul be wrapped in a blanket of music is pure heaven. I cant imagine what life would be like if I was someone that couldnt have music on to study. I imagine it being deathly depressing and lonely. Music seems to be the only thing that can calm the wandering of my mind, so let my ears be enveloped.

I'm The Hero Of This Story

Sometimes I find myself stopping, gazing into space watching others lives pass me by. I get intrigued by what I see and I spend moments recreating what could be occurring. I create  imaginative stories to surround the moments. And then I realize that instead of being the hero of my own story I find contentment in just being a spectator in my own life. It doesnt have to be that way though. No one should take a backseat in their own story. No one wants to be the sidekick in their own dream. So I am trying to be the hero of my own story. The one that fights for something more, and sometimes fails. But the one that always gives it a shot. I dont want to be the sidekick in my story, I want to be the one that everyone looks up at in awe because I am brave and fighting for myself. I want my story to epic and rad. So perhaps its time to work on that. Welcome to my story.

[Insert Sport Here]

To mix up the slight mundaneness of spending hours on end at one specific spot in one specific building studying pages and pages of lectures we decided to spend out lunch with our friend Carrie. You  might know her. She is pretty rad. It was her first time in Australia so we wanted her to feel our love and support. So off we ventured. She looked great, and as it was pointed out, she was a very nice VMO. Carrie was fantastic, what a gem. She sang us a few songs and then we wanted to grab lunch but there was a massive line and she wanted to do the right thing and sign things for all of those people in her line. So we let her. But we really did enjoy spending that quality time with her. Although next time it would be great if she brought her husband Mike. We really like him too. I mean he is a talented man. Although our jamaican feels like she would like to insert a different sport for a man and we will allow that.

All in all it was great to see Carrie. Next time we wouldnt mind an afternoon with her and an evening with Mike and his friends. Just saying. Us Canadians have a thing for hockey players and country singers.

The Secret Executive Table Club

It feels like a secret organization.  Everyone has their seats. Four at the table. One on the floor or another table. And one at a desk. Day in and day out you see most of these six in the same space. Its unwritten. The rules are known to all. Snacks and stationary supplies are shared. Questions are asked. Reasoning is heard in hushed tones. There are other players in this scene too. One often wears a suit, or this certain sweater. He is not a part of the club, he is an outsider. And yet without his knowledge he is such a part of it. There are two others, with excessively floppy wristed waves, that are a small part of this organization.

You wouldnt know its a club. It appears to be mostly business and silence. And yet there is a bond. A communal yearning for knowledge, understanding and a feeling of confidence as pages are turned, notes are reread and rewritten and actions are thought over and over again.

Maybe one day you will find yourself on the fourth floor of the law library looking in on the club, wishing you were a part of it. Because as much as endless hours of studying is draining, it seems just the slightest bit more bearable when you are sitting near the executive table knowing that you are so far from being alone. Its okay to be a bit jealous of our club, and the fact we will all be there too early on a saturday tomorrow.

My Boy Builds Coffins

Songs usually speak to me. More than advice from humans. I just get more out of lyrics usually. Maybe because they are nearly constantly pouring through my ears, or maybe because they are relatable in most situations. I dont know a boy that builds coffins. But now I slightly wish I did because I really adore this song. It has made me think about a lot of important things. It makes me ponder about what I do and want to do with my life. Is it something I am passionate about? Does it matter? How does it impact other people? And then somehow it makes me think of what is actually important and what I want to get out of life. It reminds me how important it is to make the most of our life, to really live life. Too many days go by that I feel like I am just getting by. Who wants their last day or really just to look back and feel like their life is a compilation of getting by. I want to one day be super old and rad and looking back and telling my grandkids or whatever about heaps of epic days. And then when my time comes and there is a coffin that is made just for me, well I hope that that day I will be smiling knowing that I lived an awesome and fulfilled life.

I wish I knew a boy that builds coffins. I think because it seems like a boy like that would be getting like a little secret insight into the incredible lives of many people. And honestly, I just really like learning about peoples lives and what they have done and what makes them smile as they fall asleep. I am fascinated by people. I hope one day I have a boy that speaks to me even more than this song does.

If Love's A Word That You Say

Then say it, I will listen.

Sometimes I feel so alone. Its like the world is moving incredibly fast past me and I cant even find the time to paint my nails. Everything is changing all the time. If you are stagnant you are falling behind. In the chaos of the world its so easy for me to feel lost or drifting or that I am falling behind. But in those moments someone always seems to reach their hand into the dark abyss searching for my lost self. And as I grab onto it and come out gasping for air I remember that I am not alone. Not ever.

Sometimes I wonder if I say I love you too much. But sometimes I just love people. And its not always passionate love, its just love. Love love is not something I just say, it is more like one of those things that I fight  until I can no longer surpress it. But love for the people that are shaping me and making me laugh and saving me from myself, well that just seems natural.

Lately I feel a lot of that. Maybe its because hard days come more often then they should and somehow there is always someone there. Or maybe its because I just knew a lot of really epically fantastic people. Both are very valid options. I will just decide its a combination of both.

And yet I will close with the notion that part of me still feels like I am fighting down that urge to say that other love kind to someone that is just waiting to almost unknowingly not listen and break my heart. But if its a word you say, know that I really am listening.

All Dogs Go to Heaven, Right?

I heard it ringing because my headphones were in and my music was drowning out the chatter of so many stressed people. The calls override the music. Its usually a bummer when my music is interrupted. The exam was to start in 25 minutes. Which is rather soon. I knew I didnt want to answer but had to. I quickly said hello and asked her not to say anything. I knew what she was going to say. I didnt want to hear it. She was silent then I started to cry. It was too late. I said she could just say it. I knew. My mother was calling to let me know that our dear, beloved dog was gone. They had buried him already. It happened so fast. All that had happened was a few hours of study and sleeping.

I dont know exactly why it makes me feel empty. Maybe because I didnt say goodbye. I didnt say thank you. I wasnt there. Cooper was always there. I took him out the only time I have even gotten in an actually angry verbal fight with a family member. He would stay by me everytime I was ill or had surgery. He was always there. I think after 11 years you just are bonded. He has been in my life longer than most anyone in my life. Cooper always loved me. I just wish I could say goodbye. But I guess thats why we believe all dogs go to heaven. If we dont believe that then what do we have to console our sad and empty lonely hearts? I am sure he is in heaven. He has to be.

RIP Cooper. I love you.

Blocked

The phone rang. I answered. No response. I hung up and wondered who could have a blocked number. The only one I knew wouldnt be calling. It was 3am in that time zone. I went back to my dinner. I checked fb out of boredom and procrastination. There was a reprimanding for not answering. I had answered. I called back. The expectations of a dramatic tearful other end were high. They were half met. It was tearful. The words werent coming. And when they did I wished they hadnt. The poor frightened, tearful voice related to  me the dying of a love. Not the fifteen year old boyfriend-girlfriend break up I was expecting. But the life of my, our, beloved pet slowly fading. I acted strong. I told you it would be okay. The pet hospital would help. But I knew that wasnt likely. He was getting old. He lived a good life. And maybe this was it. I stayed strong. Until now. Now that she is hopefully asleep, its okay to cry. Maybe the phone will ring again in the morning and say some expensive surgery has bought him time, maybe it will ring and all will be lost. I honestly dont know. All I know is my life has been blessed in more ways than I can ever relate by a faithful pet that spent a lot of nights in my room or by my side when I was crying or ill or when their was a storm and he was scared. My heart is breaking a little bit knowing that I may never get to see him again and that this might be goodbye. I selfishly hope something will preserve him just another two and a half weeks til I can be there. But I know that its a purely selfish desire and that hes suffering. I dont want another blocked phone call. I dont want to cry. I just want to be home and holding him and thanking him for all of the times he knew something was wrong and took care of me. I dont deal well with death. I know that. I know that very well. So please dont call me and tell me my dog is gone.

Troll vs Hippo

It's a bridge. You cant just cross it though. You have to have a password. If you try to just run past it will end a bit like the Brothers Grimm book the Three Billy Goats Gruff. A troll will eat you. Which makes me think of hippos. Apparently hippos are known for being agressive and large. By large I mean fat. Somehow this is exactly how my train of though goes. And far too often. Especially since my first exam is in just less than 15 hours. However, thats as irrelevant as it is relevant.

I often wonder what stops me from crossing bridges or taking other paths. Is it because I am scared that the other side wont be everything I hoped for? Or am I scared of what may be underneath the bridge. Or do I just now know the right thing to say to get to the other side? I dont know. I am sure through life it is a combination of the sorts but likely its because of fear.

You may think I am tough like a troll, someone that doesnt put up with anything and is silently in wait of its next prey. Or you may somehow compare me to the aggressiveness of a hippo (I refuse to correlate myself to the size of one as I am a rather averagely normal size and not large in any way). However those would both just be super inaccurate. The truth is I am just a girl that is petrified. Scared of making the wrong decision. Scared that the end of the path wont be what I was hoping for. Scared to even speak up. Regardless of the meaningless exterior people may think they see it means nothing compared to the hidden frightened inside. I think a tough exterior is usually just a facade for someone scared that people will look further and see nothing strong at all.

Paper Airplanes

The library was hauntingly quiet. It was a saturday. No one should be there, but so many people were. I had my section of a table. My headphones were in and the music was turned up loud. Loud enough to drown out the existence of everyone around. Unfortunately loud music does not prevent you from being hit with a paper airplane. It also doesnt help you remember how to refold such paper made machines. Ergo my toss back was pathetic. It made me feel like I forgot how to be a kid. How tragic is that. As a kid you dont spend your weekends trapped in buildings full of educational books. You spend them out in the sun playing. Or creating things. Exams kill souls and sleep and enjoyment. I cannot wait until they are over and I can play again.

Jesse Vs John Vs Adam

These three men have contributed greatly to my life.  And in barely over 2 weeks I will see the last of them, and well, one again. It is not often you find that feuds are beneficial  but I actually appreciate their various three way feud  as it has fueled the fire and brought out the lyrical genius in all three of them. Although, ultimately I am quite pleased that John has rejoined Adam in creating music and that Jesse and John have, as it seems, come back to friendship. All is well that ends well. Although the middle time seriously created some of my all time favourite songs. And Brand New and Straylight Run both put on such fantastic shows. I am assuming TBS will be just as good, if not better. Especially since John is back and I know he is great live.

Tonight I relieved their feud and all of the bitter angst of their lyrical war. It was beautiful. I cannot wait to see Adam and John in LA. Best present ever.

Listen to Seventy Times 7 by Brand New, then Theres No I in Team from TBS, then Another Word For Desperate by Straylight Run. Then when you are loving every second of it listen to I Believe you But My Tommy Gun Dont- Brand New and Mix Tape also by them. So fantastic. The list does go on a bit more but its rather late and I am aiming for a few hours sleep. So enjoy.

Cake For Breakfast Equates to Super Powers

I woke up and had my favourite cake besides Jeannie Bakery cake. I then realized I felt like I had super powers. I was on top of the world. I unwrapped Twilight Sparkle, my My Little Pony unicorn. I read a few cards, looked at photos and opened Alice in Wonderland. I read texts and messages. I checked my mailbox as indicated in an unknown text and read a poem. I went to uni and had brownies and learned and had a free boost for lunch. The day progressed with a lot of laughter and a lot more love.

I was shocked when we turned up at the final location and a dozen beautiful friends were there to celebrate me. It was casual and perfect. To end it all I am sitting eating popcorn listening to Billy Joel on my record player. I dont know if moments get much better than this. The day wasnt perfect. But I am not perfect. It was so much more beautiful than I imagined. I enjoyed feeling a bit like I had super powers today. Oh and I gave myself the one thing I truly wanted and no one could give me. I ran. A mile and a half has never felt so good, 9 weeks has been a long time apparently.

Twenty three is going to be my year. Watch me nail it.

ps. Thank you. You all know who you are.

My Retarded Heart

I spent a lot of the last year, maybe most of it with conflicted feelings about love. It has been a topic that has enveloped my thoughts and forced me to completely relook at the topic. I realized a few things. That we cant always choose who we love. And we cant make other people love us back. And people we love will hurt us. And my heart is retarded.

Logically and mentally I think about you and realize you are not good for me. My heart just cant accept that yet. I dont know why. Its not like I see you, or even talk to you really these days. And yet for some reason my ability to let go is non existant. I dont want to love you. I dont want to meet other people and realize that somehow they just havent met up to you, especially since you truly dont rate high in a lot of categories. And here I am. Realizing it is the end of your birthday in my time zone, with the time difference our birthdays will be the same time this year, and knowing that you probably wont even say anything about mine. I hate that I love you. I hate that I havent met a single person since you that I thought there was a possibility for a future with. I hate that deep down I really want to see you when I am back on the continent. I hate that my heart is retarded and wont let go. I  just want to let go and not want you anymore. Maybe I should get my name on the heart transplant list and aim for a less retarded one.

Moving Into Consecutive Numbers

Its just hours from a day that I like and dont like. I dont like attention focusing on me. I like cards and presents. That all seems normal. So tomorrow is a day I will love and also feel awkward. Whenever something changes, something that cant go back I reflect. I wont ever be twenty two again. In the last 55 weeks, yes I am aware that is more than a year, everything in my life has pretty much changed. Some changes were beautiful as I grew up. Some brought pain. Most brought tears. Twenty two was a year for learning in epic proportions.

I have a lot of hopes and dreams for twenty three. And for once I feel like I can actually go and fight for those things I want. I dont want to take a backseat in my own life. I want to be able to sit here next here and write about all of the things I fought for and achieved while being twenty three. I dont want to look back and see a year of failure or discouragement or brokeneness. I want to look back and be proud. So tonight I am writing down my goals for the next 52 weeks.

This is going to be my year.

Growing Pains

In the space of 16 months I went from having really long hair to progressively shorter hair. To the point where it was a pixie cut. Short hair was something I had wanted for ages. That may be why I cut it. Or I could have cut it because I wanted to feel like I was in control of something in my life. Or perhaps because I was bored. Or because I had been told I should never cut my hair short as it was gorgeous. I think they were all factors. Some of it was out of defiance, some out of my search for control and normality and some out of boredom and wondering what it would be life.

Regardless, I have been stuck in the seemingly never ending phase of growing my hair out. I used to think I was going to have a mullet or something equally as awful as there seemed to be no hope for my hair. However, I am finally seeing a light. A light that says that one day possibly in the foreseeable future I will be able to just have a normal haircut. One where my hair does not require mass amounts of wax or bobby pins in order to be semi acceptable.

Now to the point. We all make choices that are attached to consequences. My choice led to several painful months of trying to grow my hair. Other choices lead to heartache, or apologies or hard work to repair things. All of these choices and consequences seem to be part of growing up. Usually the not fun and difficult parts of it. But there is always a light. Even if its like a tea light that seems so dim you can barely make it out. Its still there. So perhaps all of those pains we find because of our choices is just us learning and growing. Without growing pains we wouldnt grow. Maybe thats why they say no pain no gain.

Gummy Bears and a Blocked Airway

Karma is a bit cruel sometimes. Especially when you dont even know what you did wrong. Well perhaps I was arguing a bit, but nothing serious or heated. So when I was eating a gummy bear and then couldnt break I wasnt actually really that happy. I mean the whole not breathing thing and wondering if you are going to die in that instant isnt that great. But it was a learning experience. I learned that its not a good idea to eat gummy bears while arguing, save them as a victory snack while you destroy someone in an argument, they will taste extra good then. I also learned that my friend does not really know how to do the heimlich so if I actually had a fully blocked airway for any longer than I did I may have been screwed. Lastly I learned that bad things really are funny right after they happen. Either that or you have to cry about them. So laughing is the best option for sure. Thank you karma for dominating me and taking away my oxygen I owe you one.

Wishing for Unicorns to Dance Upon Your Head

Pearls Before Swine frequently is a major highlight in my day. Today was no exception. Rat expresses exactly how I feel. Welcome to my mind.

Fear Avoidance and Burnt Toast

It is probably said that when a fear affects your daily living then an intervention is required. Something needs to change. I was told I need an intervention. I accepted this and asked if someone would intervene and kill the spider. The issue isnt me, its the spiders. You see I dont go into their webs and creepily stare at them or stalk them. So I dont find it unreasonable that I am upset when they exactly that to me. I do recognize it is a bit of an issue. I admit that it was not the best thing ever when I was starving yesterday and waited nearly an hour because I was scared to go past the spider on the cabinet. I mean I resolved it by climbing across the counter and watching the spider the whole time I was in the kitchen. Perhaps my toast wouldnt have burnt if I was watching it and not the spider. But I got food ultimately after I climbed back across the counter and scampered to my room. So all in all it worked out right?

Not so much. I just am too afraid that intervention would involve me and spiders in the same place. And I openly admit that I have a very irrational fear that spiders will attack me and possibly kill me if I am not careful. I will eventually move back to a place that doesnt have such big spiders, or at least not as many of them. But until then I will likely resort to waiting for housemates to kill them or knocking on my neighbours door.

There is a bigger picture though. Who loves burnt toast and being afraid? Probably no one. But we all have fears. I bet Chuck Norris is even scared of something, maybe emotion. Regardless, in situations where fear is evoked we often choose avoidance and end up in a lose lose situation. Perhaps its time to face our fears and eat less burnt toast.

This Is Not An Art Class

Apparently my class about the lumbar spine is not an art class, why was this not mentioned before week 13? You are probably laughing but the truth is when my professor said it I was a bit cut. This was my thought process "gah! What if I wanted to draw cartoons of how to teach patients to use their TrA or MF on  my exam?!" Why I thought this I almost dont know. Its not like we do anything art related. We are physiotherapy students. Our classes are lectures and hands on assessing, treating and  manipulating spines. Art is not utilized.

The truth is it confronted me with something I have never acknowledged openly. I have never studied art in any sense. I havent taking drawing or painting classes. I havent taken photography, graphic design, architecture or fashion classes. Yet those are all things that I really, really am fascinated by and wish I knew more about and was more skilled in. So an off hand comment bringing humour about the impending doom of the upcoming exams just made me wonder if I have missed a turn on the path at some point. I have studied science and exercise for most of the last 10 years I would say. It may be because I was good at it, or it may be because I was too scared that I wouldnt be good enough at anything artistic. I need creative outlets before I go crazy in my own head. Unfortunately, my lumbar exam is not going to be one of those.

As an after thought, almost an addendum to this thought process, maybe its good to stop and think about the things we have always wanted to try, or the things we are scared to fail at. Maybe those are the things we would be best at because we would be passionate about it. Passion can make all of the difference in the world.