WHY HELLO THERE STRANGERS.
I AM NOT DEAD.
My absence constitutes the allotted time for death to occur, however, I have not, in fact, been decapitated, mugged, kidnapped, bludgeoned, impaled, or otherwise mangled in the last month-and-a-half. Yet.
It's not that I've been terribly busy. I haven't. Not in relation. But several things have been going on that have lately garnered my full attention.
For instance, life choices. Oh yes. Those things that occur outside of the internet and (le gasp) effect my standing with immediate society (never important society, loves -- you are the important society).
I have spoken in circles about my impending move to Connecticut for months now, and for the longest time it's been pushed back, and rescheduled, and forgotten, and found, and dusted off again, and I've hoped -- I've hope hope hoped -- that everything wouldn't fall through a second, a third, a fifth or seventh time.
Well, my relatives are coming in today. They'll be here in a few hours for their annual cross-country visit.
And I'm not entirely certain I'll be accompanying them back to their cozy abode.
The past week, specifically, I've been giving a lot of thought to my future, how my future plans do in fact point towards college, and how, despite my four point oh and my general fantastic standing with my previous school, there is a lot of holyshitfuckpissdick standing in the way between me and my goals.
I know what I want to do. I've known for a very long time. I've only just recently figured out how to do it. How to get there. How to attain that goal.
So the skivvy is, every college I want to transfer to requires at least one teacher recommendation from a previous college professor. I haven't been to college in two years. I'm wanting to pursue an English major of some kind, and yet I took all music-related classes, so the only recommendation I could get would be from a two-year's absent music comp teacher.
Or, a solution that has recently shimmied its way into my sights: Go to the community college in town for a semester, build up a rapport with the professors there, and get one of them to write up a recommendation for my Spring-semester transfer. Purely statistical pros being: I make such good grades I'll probably be paid to go to school, with money left over; more time with my lovely best friends; there are actually a few classes I'm interested in; and, obviously, the recommendation thing. Cons, of course, being: four more months in the hell-hole that is Tennessee.
(I don't know why I hate my state so much. I don't intrinsically despise the people, I don't dislike the lay of the land, and I'm fairly happy with the climate. I suppose I hate Tennessee in the same sense that a canary hates its cage. It can be a very lovely cage, beautiful, ornate, with all the amenities of pleasant living -- but you're still trapped, you've still been trapped, and after a while the soul-sucking evidence of your anchorage to the blackest of beasts is the only thing you're capable of seeing.)
The good thing about staying would be how beneficial the results could be to my life. I'm a bit worried about my chances as a transfer student, however, if I do go to this college.
What's better? An old recommendation from an old teacher at a 4-year institution, or a fresh recommendation from a new teacher at a 2-year community college? Since my sights are as high as NYU, BU, and Emerson, I'm... not entirely sure if using a 2-year college as a springboard would be advisable. Then again, I'd like to assume that the previous colleges aren't that snooty.
And to use this moment of pause as a blunt segue,
I HAVE LOST 17LBS
I've been on a diet for a little over 5 weeks now and I'm simply beyond excited that I've made so much progress! No particular plan for me -- simply counting calories and running and/or swimming every day. I just now started a more organized exercise routine today (with things like lunges, and crunches, and all those other weird workout names that sound vaguely sexual), and my legs basically felt like jelly afterwards. But, in general? I just feel... more refreshed. Happier. Like I'm moving towards a reachable goal -- that my goals are reachable. That I'm finally going to attain the things I've always wanted -- the things I have a right to have. Healthiness, college, getting the fuck out of dodge.
You know what this calls for? A new journal layout!
My absence constitutes the allotted time for death to occur, however, I have not, in fact, been decapitated, mugged, kidnapped, bludgeoned, impaled, or otherwise mangled in the last month-and-a-half. Yet.
It's not that I've been terribly busy. I haven't. Not in relation. But several things have been going on that have lately garnered my full attention.
For instance, life choices. Oh yes. Those things that occur outside of the internet and (le gasp) effect my standing with immediate society (never important society, loves -- you are the important society).
I have spoken in circles about my impending move to Connecticut for months now, and for the longest time it's been pushed back, and rescheduled, and forgotten, and found, and dusted off again, and I've hoped -- I've hope hope hoped -- that everything wouldn't fall through a second, a third, a fifth or seventh time.
Well, my relatives are coming in today. They'll be here in a few hours for their annual cross-country visit.
And I'm not entirely certain I'll be accompanying them back to their cozy abode.
The past week, specifically, I've been giving a lot of thought to my future, how my future plans do in fact point towards college, and how, despite my four point oh and my general fantastic standing with my previous school, there is a lot of holyshitfuckpissdick standing in the way between me and my goals.
I know what I want to do. I've known for a very long time. I've only just recently figured out how to do it. How to get there. How to attain that goal.
So the skivvy is, every college I want to transfer to requires at least one teacher recommendation from a previous college professor. I haven't been to college in two years. I'm wanting to pursue an English major of some kind, and yet I took all music-related classes, so the only recommendation I could get would be from a two-year's absent music comp teacher.
Or, a solution that has recently shimmied its way into my sights: Go to the community college in town for a semester, build up a rapport with the professors there, and get one of them to write up a recommendation for my Spring-semester transfer. Purely statistical pros being: I make such good grades I'll probably be paid to go to school, with money left over; more time with my lovely best friends; there are actually a few classes I'm interested in; and, obviously, the recommendation thing. Cons, of course, being: four more months in the hell-hole that is Tennessee.
(I don't know why I hate my state so much. I don't intrinsically despise the people, I don't dislike the lay of the land, and I'm fairly happy with the climate. I suppose I hate Tennessee in the same sense that a canary hates its cage. It can be a very lovely cage, beautiful, ornate, with all the amenities of pleasant living -- but you're still trapped, you've still been trapped, and after a while the soul-sucking evidence of your anchorage to the blackest of beasts is the only thing you're capable of seeing.)
The good thing about staying would be how beneficial the results could be to my life. I'm a bit worried about my chances as a transfer student, however, if I do go to this college.
What's better? An old recommendation from an old teacher at a 4-year institution, or a fresh recommendation from a new teacher at a 2-year community college? Since my sights are as high as NYU, BU, and Emerson, I'm... not entirely sure if using a 2-year college as a springboard would be advisable. Then again, I'd like to assume that the previous colleges aren't that snooty.
And to use this moment of pause as a blunt segue,
I HAVE LOST 17LBS
I've been on a diet for a little over 5 weeks now and I'm simply beyond excited that I've made so much progress! No particular plan for me -- simply counting calories and running and/or swimming every day. I just now started a more organized exercise routine today (with things like lunges, and crunches, and all those other weird workout names that sound vaguely sexual), and my legs basically felt like jelly afterwards. But, in general? I just feel... more refreshed. Happier. Like I'm moving towards a reachable goal -- that my goals are reachable. That I'm finally going to attain the things I've always wanted -- the things I have a right to have. Healthiness, college, getting the fuck out of dodge.
You know what this calls for? A new journal layout!