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Temporarily Misplaced Prowess

So we all have that one special skill that we rely on heavily. For some people it might be the super amazing skill of being able to write three essays simultaneously, wearing short shorts on super cold days, being able to run in high heels, or being able to be able to name all the pho restaurants downtown. For me, it’s my super fast walking prowess.

I walk really fast, and by fast I mean fast. I have yet to meet someone who can keep up with me, and people have to literally half jog when they walk beside me. This comes in handy when I have a million places to be at in one day on campus since I just zoom in and out of buildings, across fields, hills, trees, squirrels, mountains – so you can imagine how I rely on this odd skill of mine a lot. But then something tragic happened.

I got sick.

Suddenly, I couldn’t move, and walking anywhere was the most terrible thing I could think of doing. The first day I had the flu, I figured it was just exhaustion from having to write one essay after the other. The second day I had the flu was my birthday, and I was determined not to be bedridden, so I forced myself to walk everywhere until I was sick to my stomach that evening. Then, on the third day, I was almost bedridden (but still managed to go to class, dedication right there).

It was like the world was suddenly moving in a hazy and blurry slow motion where I felt the need to constantly sleep. This is the closest I’ve ever been to being like a sloth (contrary to feeling).

This entire experience has taught me to empathize with slow walkers. Jokes. It made me realize not to take my ability to walk for granted.

Actually, having the flu gave me some really wacky/philosophical/thoughtful dreams:

1) I dreamt I was on a cloud writing poetry.
Why? I have no idea. I hate poetry, but ever since Hannah gave me a poetry book I’ve been giving it another shot so maybe this is why. But this whole writing on a cloud business has too much of Blake, in my opinion.

2) I contemplated the difference between completion and perfection in my sleep.
This was probably my conscience reminding me that my last essay was crap. What’s the difference between complete and perfection anyway? If it’s complete, does it have to be perfect? Why do we have to be perfect?

3) I dreamt about tricking a kid.
In my dream I thought of the most brilliant way of tricking this one kid into finishing his work, which I then used in real life and it WORKED. Who would have thought.

So that’s it about this stupid flu that stole my birthday and temporarily turned me sloth like which has now evolved into a massive cold, but I’ll take a cold over having the flu any day of the week. At least with the cold I can still walk fast.

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Like Freshwater

in exhaustion we let our thoughts wander, seeping through consciousness like a brook of freshwater. when do these thoughts become important enough to be written, when do they break out of the confines of the boundaries of nothingness and syntax, enough to be shared and convoluted on white space - thoughts before bed, the time we allow ourselves to be unconscious, exhaustion exuding through pores and its place dreams take up space. sleep sleep sleep but still worries us - tomorrow, through the rotary of the wheel our legs lead us, sit for us, stand for us, walk for us: but is it really us they're doing it for?


problematic of the writer with faith, for to believe and believe in are simple to the one who can. Elizabeth Costello, why is it so hard? justify yourself, don't exhaust me, stand before mock judges and say, "the childhood frogs i made up, vegetarianism is to save my soul." or is that too simple a road, is faith never so black and white, is unbelief so leisurely? let us h-o-w-l with the ugliness of time who through alarm clocks wake us and remind us time is out. the book is done, but the words repeat themselves over and over and over -

as in exhaustion our minds wander - easy, simple, sleep.

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Prone to Wander



Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it
Prone to leave the God I love
Here's my heart, Lord, take and seal it
Seal it for Thy courts above

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Coffee is a Creative Lighter Fluid

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Cherry Blossoms - Pictures From High Park



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Pink Daisy

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Sim Social

I've recently realized how similar I am to my Sim, and that we share a lot of qualities.


(Truth is, I have a thing for games where I get to take care of something and direct that person's every move, which is why I continually played Neopets late into high school and owned a tamagochi for the longest time (albeit, it kept dying). Anyway, this all only adds to my the loser-ish quality I carried on throughout high school, as Jessica and I were discussing yesterday.)

So getting on to the point, here's a list:

1) When I first started playing the Sim Social game on facebook, there were a lot of personalities I could choose from, ranging from being a geek, jock, hopeless romantic, etc. But I ended up choosing the villain personality and named my Sim Lizzie Villie (Lizzie being from Pride and Prejudice, and because it rhymed with Villie).

What we have in common: Although I've never really stolen anything in my life - just maybe a toy here and there from my brother and cousins and a few office supplies from Sears - I am a villain in other ways. I am cruel, malicious, and am devoted to evil wicked plots (stole these adjectives from the dictionary). In my head, rather than thinking of daisies and sunshine and happy children, I'm always thinking of cruel things I could do: spit my gum on the sidewalk, not recycle, be mean to someone, tell someone their grammar sucks, and think of ways to sabotage a friendship.

2) Lizzie Villie often needs constant attention from others, if she doesn't get it, she cries and feels the need to kick a trash can over. And when she visits other people's houses, she insults them and makes them cry so that she can be happy, and then apologizes saying she didn't mean it.

What we have in common: I too insult people and then apologize, claiming I didn't mean it (oops). I realized that I do this because when I feel comfortable with someone, I like to insult that person rather than have polite conversation (polite conversation is boring and awkward). And although I don't always want attention from people, I like receiving attention just so I can say no. When I can't say no to someone, I cry and kick trash cans over.

3) She snickers evilly to herself all the time. She's probably doing this because in her head she thinks she's the funniest, most evil thing in the world.

What we have in common: Yeah I do this. I always burst out laughing randomly because I think I'm amusing. But this is a common trait we all share - deep down in the crevices of our body, we all think we're hilarious.

There's one thing we don't have in common though. Lizzie Villie likes to hug people, especially when she's apologizing. I don't like hugging people, but not because I don't like to apologize, but because hugs create an air of awkwardness.

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