you're so f*cking special.

The school year is now in full swing and already I feel like putting the covers over my head to wait for it to end.

But, alas, I know that I can't...in fact, knowing that this is my final year of the less-than-real world gives me a contradictory type of motivation, the likes of which I have never seen before. Motivation to have the best year I can, and figure out where to go from here.

It's like I'm in an evil lair, hatching evil plans for my future. Where I'm going to start my career, how I am going to live on my own, etc.

I even know, to the most definitive degree imaginable, who I am going to spend the rest of my life with. I recently discovered that I know exactly who my future husband is going to be; as a feeling entirely foreign to me, I am both extraordinarily happy and scared shitless.

Future, why must you be so unclear? I needs me the Doc and Marty. =(

-Tasha

xo

Comments

Arghity Argh.

BAH. I always, always do this. Plan to go to bed at 11p.m. and then not. Until 2. It's almost 2 now. Too much to think about. So much to dooo. I'm a communications major, so obviously, in my program, we talk about the many ways in which people communicate with each other. Lately I've been confronted by a lot of theoretical discussion about the internet, and how anyone can blog. We watched this vid where this guy describes a theory called "mass amateurisation". Well, without getting TOO far into it (less I go cross-eyed), this theory essentially says that literary merit will eventually go to shit with the fact that anyone can publish themselves on the internet. Which is kiiinda true, no? I am at an impasse- with myself! It's true that ANYONE can say they write because they have a blog. But then ANYONE can create a blog. What's the point? It's not like we're more important or something. And it's not like people read it, either. Well, except for m...

2022

As a teenager, one of my biggest fears was an airborne disease that would wreak havoc on the world as we knew it. Back then, SARS was a thing, and some other weird things that I can't remember happened that year that brought me to my naiive, self-absorbed and dysfunctional little knees one afternoon while watching CNN. I was overwhelmed. I asked my mother why it felt like the entire world was collapsing. The drama. ...and now, look where we are. It's 2022, baby - literally any fucking thing goes. - T.

L i t tle T h ings.

I want to blog again. But I always seem to be stuck. Re-reading some of my old posts the other day made me realize that I always write about the same things. The worst part is that these things are things that I dislike about my life. Even more terrifying, as indicated by the timeline of my previous posts, these things have been bothering me for a very long time. So now, I want to tell my "voice" to grow up. The only crappy relationship I would like to address now for the first (and hopefully last) time is the one I have with myself. What I needed previously and still need to find for real, is my self-respect. My esteem. My ability to just "be". And these are my new principles for blogging. No angst-fuelled rambles. Just life, as it is from day-to-day. It's time to take control, and indulge in all experiences, whether they be big or small (someone brings you kiwiis in an attempt to make your day brighter. Definitely worked). If only I could bottle such a man...

.M o a r Than a Wo m an.

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