procrastination is the source of my low self esteem
unfortunately, I get my best ideas when I'm suppsed to be doing something else. Vicious circle, that.
Anyway, as I'm supposed to be writing my novel responses for French lit, I thought I'd be a whiny little bitch, and then talk about my week. In that order.
So, it's come to my attention that I'm a friggin do nothing. I am a do-nothign with skills, oh yes, but really I'm a sporadically inspired do nothing. An ENVIOUS do nothing, honestly. I remember my biggest jumps of artistic skill have come from dedication to be better than the person next to me in class. The first fanfics I wrote those millions of years ago I did because I saw something fun and I wanted in on it.
And that's the thing about myself that frustrates me. That I am motivated more by other people than I am by myself. I don't come up with the good ideas, I just start with others' ideas and expand on them. When I pick up a hobby, how much is me actually caring about it, and how much is fleeting interest? Some hope that in doing that one thing, I'll see myself in a better light? I don't know.
Some might say, if you really cared about something, you'd be doing it, nothing could stop you. But that's crock. The things I really care about are the things that don't get done, because I'm too afraid of screwing up what's important to me. Trouble there is the ideas stay in my head and get so altered or put aside that I can't remember what they were when they were at their best.
I want to be the person who has the ideas. But fuck, I can't even come up with a decent plan for my own birthday, which will probably suck once again due to my own inadequacies.
Long story short, expect a scathing review of the 90s animated film The Swan Princess sometime in the near future.
NOW! As for what's going on in my life, on Saturday I was woken up by a marching band.
I didn't even realize what was going on at first. They were playing Deck the Halls, which just incorperated itself into my dream. Soon enough dream me, who was doing something non-christmasy but I dont remember what, was singing along and then, finally, the bus of realization hit that this music was not coming from inside my head. Queue about five-to-ten minutes of confusion before I finally figured out what was going on, but by the time I dragged myself out of bed and onto the roof, the band was a couple blocks away and the rest of the parade was below me.
Apparently Pearl Harbor Day is a day for parades. Not that Santa Cruz really produces much to do with Pearl Harbor, or the military in general. We've got a few vets, and they marched, but really the parade that wen't down Pacific Ave was more of a Christmas/Santa Cruz crazy. And some school kids and local buisnesses.
Let me tell you something about Santa Cruz. The people here are very socially active. You can't swing a cat without hitting an anti-war vegan, and I'm down with that (except, come on. I can get the no meat thing I guess, but dairy rocks). So it was standard SC fare for the secular humanists to march between the caroling farmers and the ducky derby truck, and to feature a dance group groovin to Wake Me Before You Go Go, a truckfull of cheerleaders, and some AIDS walkers all meshed in together. And it's not that I have a problem with getting the word out on poverty, disease, and social injustice, but it can make the parade kind of...awkward.
Children on unicycles!
YAAY!!
Performing horses!
YAAY!!
6,000 children are orphaned by AIDS every day!
um...are we clapping? not clapping? OHGODNEXTFLOATPLZ
aanywho, here's some parade media. I've decided not to put it under a cut because I just don't care. Scroll away!
Anyway, as I'm supposed to be writing my novel responses for French lit, I thought I'd be a whiny little bitch, and then talk about my week. In that order.
So, it's come to my attention that I'm a friggin do nothing. I am a do-nothign with skills, oh yes, but really I'm a sporadically inspired do nothing. An ENVIOUS do nothing, honestly. I remember my biggest jumps of artistic skill have come from dedication to be better than the person next to me in class. The first fanfics I wrote those millions of years ago I did because I saw something fun and I wanted in on it.
And that's the thing about myself that frustrates me. That I am motivated more by other people than I am by myself. I don't come up with the good ideas, I just start with others' ideas and expand on them. When I pick up a hobby, how much is me actually caring about it, and how much is fleeting interest? Some hope that in doing that one thing, I'll see myself in a better light? I don't know.
Some might say, if you really cared about something, you'd be doing it, nothing could stop you. But that's crock. The things I really care about are the things that don't get done, because I'm too afraid of screwing up what's important to me. Trouble there is the ideas stay in my head and get so altered or put aside that I can't remember what they were when they were at their best.
I want to be the person who has the ideas. But fuck, I can't even come up with a decent plan for my own birthday, which will probably suck once again due to my own inadequacies.
Long story short, expect a scathing review of the 90s animated film The Swan Princess sometime in the near future.
NOW! As for what's going on in my life, on Saturday I was woken up by a marching band.
I didn't even realize what was going on at first. They were playing Deck the Halls, which just incorperated itself into my dream. Soon enough dream me, who was doing something non-christmasy but I dont remember what, was singing along and then, finally, the bus of realization hit that this music was not coming from inside my head. Queue about five-to-ten minutes of confusion before I finally figured out what was going on, but by the time I dragged myself out of bed and onto the roof, the band was a couple blocks away and the rest of the parade was below me.
Apparently Pearl Harbor Day is a day for parades. Not that Santa Cruz really produces much to do with Pearl Harbor, or the military in general. We've got a few vets, and they marched, but really the parade that wen't down Pacific Ave was more of a Christmas/Santa Cruz crazy. And some school kids and local buisnesses.
Let me tell you something about Santa Cruz. The people here are very socially active. You can't swing a cat without hitting an anti-war vegan, and I'm down with that (except, come on. I can get the no meat thing I guess, but dairy rocks). So it was standard SC fare for the secular humanists to march between the caroling farmers and the ducky derby truck, and to feature a dance group groovin to Wake Me Before You Go Go, a truckfull of cheerleaders, and some AIDS walkers all meshed in together. And it's not that I have a problem with getting the word out on poverty, disease, and social injustice, but it can make the parade kind of...awkward.
Children on unicycles!
YAAY!!
Performing horses!
YAAY!!
6,000 children are orphaned by AIDS every day!
um...are we clapping? not clapping? OHGODNEXTFLOATPLZ
aanywho, here's some parade media. I've decided not to put it under a cut because I just don't care. Scroll away!
Click to view