tiny tragic robot lullabyes
I think rochester has finally faded into the kind of obscurity that obselete places seem to ooze.
I can look back on it hazily, like grand rapids before it, numbly half-remembering melancholy days where nothing was accomplished.
I'm going to leave that ant farm to its own machinations for the rest of the year.
Despite the dreary sentiments playing ceiling to this paragraph, I'm still having an amazing year.
As expected, I'm having another academic crisis of sorts. Last year it was linguistics, anthropology and communications that held my fancy, slowly my interests shifted into creative writing and literature studies and somehow became fixated on medicine. I dabbled briefly with asian studis, and even got halfway through the minor.
Scheduling constraints didn't allow me to follow up on my writing classes, nor was I able to continue studying French. It seems languages are becoming dull to me on some level anyway, so I'm not too disappointed.
Now I find myself interested in psychology and pharmaceuticals. Specialization is the scourge of modern man, I swear.
A lot of students struggle with apathy, but I find myself having a difficult time narrowing down my interests, and I was never one to have a whole lot of focus. It spells disaster, because I'll never be able to truly master all those disciplines, but that won't stop me from pouring [my parents] money and time into secondary education.
What I really need is to marry into money and spend all day sipping on gin and tonics and writing fake memoirs about sexually deviant 18th century aristocrats with a knack for epistemology and high society. When that grows exhausting, I can do some groundbreaking research in neuro-linguistics and then disappear behind a swarm of titles and scientific journals.
Evan and I are now in a facebook-sanctified relationship [what other kind is there?]. Though semantics would suggest that he is betroathed while I am only involved. I like the imagery of it, but if he abandons his medical post, I'm going to have to find another man to line my coffers...
Fiscally defeatist outlooks aside, it feels extremely nice to be one half of a really awesome couple.
I missed Rufus Wainwright last night, choosing(?) instead to get miserably drunk in my backyard with a bunch of high schoolers after homecoming. This being followed by a drunken (yet jovial!) encounter with my parents. It might have been pretty awkward, but I'm well conditioned for that kind of situation.
Luckily my parents are really awesome people, and no great harm came of the night, aside from the epiphany that I hate my childhood hometown(s), but that wasn't really a well-hidden sentiment.
Poetry night returned last week, and went swimmingly. Everyone has matured, and it shows in our writing. New styles, different interpretations, shifted focus, new central images. It is actually quite exciting in a dorky manner.
Metric is coming to detroit on Friday, and I swear to god I won't miss them like every other show this year. (CoCo Rosie, Sufjan Stevens, Rufus Wainwright etc... )
Also, I am dying to find a studio recording of Elliot Smith's "These Days" cover, if anyone knows where to locate it I would be eternally indebted.
I can look back on it hazily, like grand rapids before it, numbly half-remembering melancholy days where nothing was accomplished.
I'm going to leave that ant farm to its own machinations for the rest of the year.
Despite the dreary sentiments playing ceiling to this paragraph, I'm still having an amazing year.
As expected, I'm having another academic crisis of sorts. Last year it was linguistics, anthropology and communications that held my fancy, slowly my interests shifted into creative writing and literature studies and somehow became fixated on medicine. I dabbled briefly with asian studis, and even got halfway through the minor.
Scheduling constraints didn't allow me to follow up on my writing classes, nor was I able to continue studying French. It seems languages are becoming dull to me on some level anyway, so I'm not too disappointed.
Now I find myself interested in psychology and pharmaceuticals. Specialization is the scourge of modern man, I swear.
A lot of students struggle with apathy, but I find myself having a difficult time narrowing down my interests, and I was never one to have a whole lot of focus. It spells disaster, because I'll never be able to truly master all those disciplines, but that won't stop me from pouring [my parents] money and time into secondary education.
What I really need is to marry into money and spend all day sipping on gin and tonics and writing fake memoirs about sexually deviant 18th century aristocrats with a knack for epistemology and high society. When that grows exhausting, I can do some groundbreaking research in neuro-linguistics and then disappear behind a swarm of titles and scientific journals.
Evan and I are now in a facebook-sanctified relationship [what other kind is there?]. Though semantics would suggest that he is betroathed while I am only involved. I like the imagery of it, but if he abandons his medical post, I'm going to have to find another man to line my coffers...
Fiscally defeatist outlooks aside, it feels extremely nice to be one half of a really awesome couple.
I missed Rufus Wainwright last night, choosing(?) instead to get miserably drunk in my backyard with a bunch of high schoolers after homecoming. This being followed by a drunken (yet jovial!) encounter with my parents. It might have been pretty awkward, but I'm well conditioned for that kind of situation.
Luckily my parents are really awesome people, and no great harm came of the night, aside from the epiphany that I hate my childhood hometown(s), but that wasn't really a well-hidden sentiment.
Poetry night returned last week, and went swimmingly. Everyone has matured, and it shows in our writing. New styles, different interpretations, shifted focus, new central images. It is actually quite exciting in a dorky manner.
Metric is coming to detroit on Friday, and I swear to god I won't miss them like every other show this year. (CoCo Rosie, Sufjan Stevens, Rufus Wainwright etc... )
Also, I am dying to find a studio recording of Elliot Smith's "These Days" cover, if anyone knows where to locate it I would be eternally indebted.