Upon visitation, you might be thinking to yourself: "Why, this blog looks different than the last time I was here," and the answer to that is you would be correct. You might have thought: "I don't remember what it looked like last time, but I'm certain it looks the same - in fact, since I did not notice change, I should not be having this thought whatsoever," and I say to that, I'll permit it. A similar thought might be: "This is my first visit, and its aestethic is pleasing," and I will answer yes, it is, but shame on you for never visiting before. Or, of course, you might now be thinking: "This opening paragraph is making me want to punch Matt in the face," and I hope this is thought has never crossed your mind before just now.
I grew tired with looking at the same old, and as I usually hope with visual overhauls (always minor and largely insignificant), I hope I get back into posting as much as I once did. Or at least regain some sort of precedence of quality, because this just isn't.
To describe my day - and this might not actually be relevant to what I'll continue to write about, but bear with me - I would say that I was on a bit of a roller coaster. Of emotion. But as much as roller coasters are fun, my day was charged with anger. I failed a road test this morning, and I'll promise this is a final rant about the topic, at least until you either a) see me in person, b) read an inevitable drunk and irate blog post, or the rarest of the three, c) see me in person while I'm drunk and irate, and I'm sorry to some people in my life because it will happen on Saturday. I understand that since my last test (and lessons) I've adapted a handful of bad driving habits: maybe I don't always shoulder check, or use my signals, or follow the speed limits, really. But I knew leading up to my test, I've been catching myself, and I know for a fact how I drove during my test was good. Not great, but good - I'm alive, the drive tester is alive (and if he's not it was by my hand and my car was not a factor), and I abided by the rules like glue. And yet, I failed. I failed because my idiotic minor mistakes piled up - again, I understand the importance of following the rules of the road, and I did, but I'm human, and I was in a pressured situation. Regardless: oh, no, I didn't check my right mirror on step two of the three point turn! God, I looked left and right, but not left again! I couldn't contort my arms so call the priest! my hand came off the wheel on one or two turns! I went over the speed limit by five kilometers an hour while driving up a hill! I'm just irritated. Irritated because I know I'm a good driver, but I know I was put under the heaviest observation and scrutiny possible. Irritated because I failed, and I'm not used to failure. (see: most previous post about my unemployment) Extremely frustrated, stressed and panicked because my license is to expire in two months, and the earliest test I could book is in three weeks, so god forbid I fail again - will I have time to book it again?
Enough about that. I know exactly where the test score sheet is in my house, and it's taunting me, but enough about that. No, my point of writing was to capture in words a sort of summer syllabus, and I guess thinking about it now my still nonexistent G license will become relevant in the sense that I need to get it this summer.
That's a good starting point, then: I hope to get my G license this summer before my license expires on me and I start all over again. I can't picture my life without a license, though I'm certain I'd probably still drive around and evade the police.
I need to go to Wonderland. I never did last summer, and it disappointed me. Now that there's this new colossus of a roller coaster, I need to be front seat on that thing.
I always say this, but I hope to pick up on my writing again. In the past few months I've started two entire projects (in addition to the three still handing in the air unfinished) with this bursting sense of excitement to write about that, without fail, fizzled out within days. It's not that I don't want to write. It's just that I start these things without any thought of a possible ending, and while I want to force myself to continue on with writing these characters who I think will be interesting or intriguing, I can't bring myself to do it. It's a conundrum, really: I can't explicitly plan out an entire story, so I write; and yet, I can't write without a plan. I don't know, I confuse myself. At least I'm writing now.
God, gift me with new television to watch. I've recently gone crazy for 30 Rock and Tina Fey, but as I just began the fifth season today - and as I started the entire series probably about a week and a half ago, but I might be kidding myself from the truth of really starting a week ago - I'm going to need more TV to occupy myself. Breaking Bad has been sitting on my 'to-watch' list for a very long time, as is Six Feet Under. I suppose in a similar vein, I'm excited for the summer movie season, what with The Avengers next week and that Spider-Man reboot I keep forgetting about and scoffing at even though I'll see it anyways. Then there's The Dark Knight Rises which will completely end my life, and Snow White and the Huntsman which looks unbelievable, and Prometheus with a very beautiful cast and a very beautiful Fassbender. (truth is truth, he's my man)
As completely reverse to being serious, I can't wait to be drunk 80% of my time. That's a stretch, as alcohol does cost money, and I will have to work this summer at that job I didn't really want to return to. I can already visualize the summer days in backyards with beer and best friends. (I've been called an alcoholic enough that I might as well play into it. I'm a fun drunk, and I'd drink with me)
To be serious, then, I want to get healthy. I can't quite see giving up the goodies, but I know I'm joining a gym with someone who will definitely kick my ass, and I'm excited.
It should be a good summer.
Showing posts with label 2012. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2012. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Dead and gone
(2011, that is! I'm still alive despite downing an entire bottle of whiskey last night)
I'm a sentimental at heart, so I always find it somewhat beneficial to conduct this sort of review on the past year of my life to relive the fond memories and learn from the troubles.
I'll start off by revisiting a certain post I wrote a year ago entitled 2011 where, instead of giving the past year a review (as I am about to engage myself in writing), I looked to the future and set out things I wanted to see accomplished. There's no use in linking to said post - if you're just that committed to my life, be my guest, I wrote it last December 31st before a mess of a New Year's Eve - largely because I feel like I've already outgrown my writing style and I'll be rehashing the "goals" I set out for my upcoming year. It's quite evident that I fulfilled my self-prescription of keeping up with my blog as I've written a whopping seventy eight posts this past year: check. I'm more than halfway done my university degree: check. I'm now twenty: well, that was inevitable. X-Men: First Class and the final Harry Potter lived up to my insane expectations and excitement: check. From May onwards I technically only listened to Born This Way, yes - although a lot of the songs are quickly becoming stale to me; never Americano or Heavy Metal Lover, though - so: check.
Would you hold it against me if I took the cliched route and gushed about how much of a different person I am now because I've learned and loved and lost throughout the penultimate year to the apocalypse? Don't worry, I won't do so. As much as I enjoy looking back at my year with a reviewing eye, I pride myself on generally avoiding the "I'm so much stronger now that x happened!" sort of jargon; taking a cue from my favourite character from one of my favourite movies of the year, Bridesmaids, people do change, and it's honestly inevitable. Of course I'm a different person than I was a year ago: for one, a year ago today I was vomiting the contents of the night before into a garbage receptacle, and damnit, this year I wasn't hungover at all! Clearly, I'm a full year older, and from a technical outlook, I am officially an adult at the age of twenty. (the idea of my next birthday being my twenty first makes me shudder, but I have another five months until I have to deal with that) I don't feel any different from a maturity standpoint; similarly, I wasn't given any new responsibilities, so I could get away with saying I've been nineteen for another year. If only.
What was noteworthy this past year? Alright, from a more superficial level: Lady Gaga released an album that was the second coming of Christ incarnate (a title which may be passed on to Beyonce's child: I swear, she's pregnant with Jesus) and if was a legal music listener with a physical copy I'm sure I would've destroyed the disc from obscene amounts of repeat listens. I'm glad to have discovered new music this year, too, whether it be Lana Del Rey or Zooey Deschanel's musical project She & Him. As I already outlined in my post about the movies of 2011, I was in a sort of heaven with the X-Men prequel or Bridesmaids or The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. I watched a ton of new television this year, too, whether it be discovering the greatest and funniest show on TV, Parks & Recreation, or catching up on Dexter (a really disappointing sixth season, to be honest) or sticking to American Horror Story like glue. I'm happy to say, too, that I read a great deal this year, and the bookshelf across from where I sit currently is beaming at me with its very full shelves of books. I always strive to read as much as I can and I only hope that this upcoming semester won't interfere too much with my reading habits - after all, I need to see how Lisbeth fares in The Girl who Kicked the Hornet's Nest. (in fact, I might just start reading that the moment I'm done writing)
You may say to yourself, that was an irrelevant waste of a paragraph, and I'd agree with you. As for the more substantial events of my life, I moved away from home for the first time, a move which will be replicated in just three hours' time as I return to school a full week ahead of everyone I know. I regretfully leave behind my PS3 and cable and, oh, my family for another three months where I return to a realm of uncomfortable beds, cold rooms, poor eating habits, a constant itch to drink, and closed doors. Perhaps my mind is being lazy, but I fail to think of another massive event occurring in 2011 that garnered a real impact on my life, positive or otherwise. I suppose from a health standpoint it's worth noting I broke my bloody knee back in May - typing that makes my knee twinge - and I had bronchitis for those horrid, horrid few weeks of my summer vacation. Like I previously mentioned, there weren't any new responsibilities to be tackled in turning twenty: in that sense, twenty is a rather empty year, and the only news it brings is the knowledge of being halfway to forty. Next year comes the time where I'm legal everywhere, but it's not like I'm a jetsetter based on the weeping contents of my bank account. Ah, of course!: I rediscovered my love for writing this year, and I don't mean blogging; rather, creative writing, as I participated in NaNoWriMo even though I wasn't successful in completing it. As I think I touched upon in my most recent post I'm eager to return to my creative outlet, and I hope 2012 brings about a highly prosperous year in terms of product. I'll finish NaNoWriMo this year, and I'll then celebrate with a complete story for only twenty one days before the end of times comes.
I've done a good job of stopping myself from being overly cliche, right? I might flirt with the line in this upcoming blurb. I met a great deal of new people this year along with igniting new friendships with familiar faces, and I'm grateful for that sort of prosperity considering I think I have some sort of social anxiety and I'm dreadful at first impressions or initiating contact. As ever, the best friends I have remained as such, and with every passing day that I find I'm still extremely close with these great people I'm certain I'll never lose contact with them. Conversely, I grew to discover just how much I can't stand the company of a select few, and I suppose I'm proud of myself in the sense that I'm able to realize that being so vastly different from someone can work to an extent up until clashing just becomes fatally toxic to the relationship. It's horrible to say, but I hope this year I'm able to get closer to the people I'm already close with, and I wouldn't mind trimming the excess, considering it'll be in my best interests and will hopefully improve my mood. (which, I find in instances like that, is constantly dreary)
What do I have to say for the upcoming year? Well, I sure hope we don't all die on December 21st. (I joke about the end of the world a great deal but it's surely a coping mechanism considering the concept terrifies me completely) Like I said, I hope I keep networking to find even more rad people, and I hope the friends I have now don't find me to be too much of a nuisance and will decide to keep me around for another year or two. Also previously mentioned, I hope to read a great deal, and on the creative side of storytelling, I hope to complete perspective projects I have in my messy head. I'm keeping my fingers crossed I'm successful in my bid to become a don on residence for next year because something about the experience seems to call for me and, without seeming too cocky, I think I scream don material. I hope my studies keep up as successfully as they have been recently, and I hope I don't break any bones this year - knock on wood - least of all my knees. As always, it wouldn't hurt to become more healthy in the way I eat or in the sense of my very lacking physical activity, but meh, my vegetative mind is content.
Happy 2012, all, and I hope my year turns out to be as good as I'm sure yours will!
I'm a sentimental at heart, so I always find it somewhat beneficial to conduct this sort of review on the past year of my life to relive the fond memories and learn from the troubles.
I'll start off by revisiting a certain post I wrote a year ago entitled 2011 where, instead of giving the past year a review (as I am about to engage myself in writing), I looked to the future and set out things I wanted to see accomplished. There's no use in linking to said post - if you're just that committed to my life, be my guest, I wrote it last December 31st before a mess of a New Year's Eve - largely because I feel like I've already outgrown my writing style and I'll be rehashing the "goals" I set out for my upcoming year. It's quite evident that I fulfilled my self-prescription of keeping up with my blog as I've written a whopping seventy eight posts this past year: check. I'm more than halfway done my university degree: check. I'm now twenty: well, that was inevitable. X-Men: First Class and the final Harry Potter lived up to my insane expectations and excitement: check. From May onwards I technically only listened to Born This Way, yes - although a lot of the songs are quickly becoming stale to me; never Americano or Heavy Metal Lover, though - so: check.
Would you hold it against me if I took the cliched route and gushed about how much of a different person I am now because I've learned and loved and lost throughout the penultimate year to the apocalypse? Don't worry, I won't do so. As much as I enjoy looking back at my year with a reviewing eye, I pride myself on generally avoiding the "I'm so much stronger now that x happened!" sort of jargon; taking a cue from my favourite character from one of my favourite movies of the year, Bridesmaids, people do change, and it's honestly inevitable. Of course I'm a different person than I was a year ago: for one, a year ago today I was vomiting the contents of the night before into a garbage receptacle, and damnit, this year I wasn't hungover at all! Clearly, I'm a full year older, and from a technical outlook, I am officially an adult at the age of twenty. (the idea of my next birthday being my twenty first makes me shudder, but I have another five months until I have to deal with that) I don't feel any different from a maturity standpoint; similarly, I wasn't given any new responsibilities, so I could get away with saying I've been nineteen for another year. If only.
What was noteworthy this past year? Alright, from a more superficial level: Lady Gaga released an album that was the second coming of Christ incarnate (a title which may be passed on to Beyonce's child: I swear, she's pregnant with Jesus) and if was a legal music listener with a physical copy I'm sure I would've destroyed the disc from obscene amounts of repeat listens. I'm glad to have discovered new music this year, too, whether it be Lana Del Rey or Zooey Deschanel's musical project She & Him. As I already outlined in my post about the movies of 2011, I was in a sort of heaven with the X-Men prequel or Bridesmaids or The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. I watched a ton of new television this year, too, whether it be discovering the greatest and funniest show on TV, Parks & Recreation, or catching up on Dexter (a really disappointing sixth season, to be honest) or sticking to American Horror Story like glue. I'm happy to say, too, that I read a great deal this year, and the bookshelf across from where I sit currently is beaming at me with its very full shelves of books. I always strive to read as much as I can and I only hope that this upcoming semester won't interfere too much with my reading habits - after all, I need to see how Lisbeth fares in The Girl who Kicked the Hornet's Nest. (in fact, I might just start reading that the moment I'm done writing)
You may say to yourself, that was an irrelevant waste of a paragraph, and I'd agree with you. As for the more substantial events of my life, I moved away from home for the first time, a move which will be replicated in just three hours' time as I return to school a full week ahead of everyone I know. I regretfully leave behind my PS3 and cable and, oh, my family for another three months where I return to a realm of uncomfortable beds, cold rooms, poor eating habits, a constant itch to drink, and closed doors. Perhaps my mind is being lazy, but I fail to think of another massive event occurring in 2011 that garnered a real impact on my life, positive or otherwise. I suppose from a health standpoint it's worth noting I broke my bloody knee back in May - typing that makes my knee twinge - and I had bronchitis for those horrid, horrid few weeks of my summer vacation. Like I previously mentioned, there weren't any new responsibilities to be tackled in turning twenty: in that sense, twenty is a rather empty year, and the only news it brings is the knowledge of being halfway to forty. Next year comes the time where I'm legal everywhere, but it's not like I'm a jetsetter based on the weeping contents of my bank account. Ah, of course!: I rediscovered my love for writing this year, and I don't mean blogging; rather, creative writing, as I participated in NaNoWriMo even though I wasn't successful in completing it. As I think I touched upon in my most recent post I'm eager to return to my creative outlet, and I hope 2012 brings about a highly prosperous year in terms of product. I'll finish NaNoWriMo this year, and I'll then celebrate with a complete story for only twenty one days before the end of times comes.
I've done a good job of stopping myself from being overly cliche, right? I might flirt with the line in this upcoming blurb. I met a great deal of new people this year along with igniting new friendships with familiar faces, and I'm grateful for that sort of prosperity considering I think I have some sort of social anxiety and I'm dreadful at first impressions or initiating contact. As ever, the best friends I have remained as such, and with every passing day that I find I'm still extremely close with these great people I'm certain I'll never lose contact with them. Conversely, I grew to discover just how much I can't stand the company of a select few, and I suppose I'm proud of myself in the sense that I'm able to realize that being so vastly different from someone can work to an extent up until clashing just becomes fatally toxic to the relationship. It's horrible to say, but I hope this year I'm able to get closer to the people I'm already close with, and I wouldn't mind trimming the excess, considering it'll be in my best interests and will hopefully improve my mood. (which, I find in instances like that, is constantly dreary)
What do I have to say for the upcoming year? Well, I sure hope we don't all die on December 21st. (I joke about the end of the world a great deal but it's surely a coping mechanism considering the concept terrifies me completely) Like I said, I hope I keep networking to find even more rad people, and I hope the friends I have now don't find me to be too much of a nuisance and will decide to keep me around for another year or two. Also previously mentioned, I hope to read a great deal, and on the creative side of storytelling, I hope to complete perspective projects I have in my messy head. I'm keeping my fingers crossed I'm successful in my bid to become a don on residence for next year because something about the experience seems to call for me and, without seeming too cocky, I think I scream don material. I hope my studies keep up as successfully as they have been recently, and I hope I don't break any bones this year - knock on wood - least of all my knees. As always, it wouldn't hurt to become more healthy in the way I eat or in the sense of my very lacking physical activity, but meh, my vegetative mind is content.
Happy 2012, all, and I hope my year turns out to be as good as I'm sure yours will!
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