Hard to be soft.

In two days I'll be moving two streets down. I'll finally penetrate center city, thus bringing me even closer to campus. Ah-hah, MUN! You thought the increased rent rates of your neighbouring roads would scare me away, but they didn't. Well... the doubling of my rent is somewhat terrifying, but whatever.

I have not packed neither bag nor box. Everything is sitting in the same place it always does (though I did get enough energy to take down the Christmas lights). I'm not worried, I'll throw all my things in garbage bags and pilfered Colemans' boxes tomorrow. The strong and mighty boys will drag my oversize furniture down on Saturday.

So what am I worrying about?

Babies. Babies and the future.

No, I'm not even close to being pregnant. Come on you guys, you know me better than that. But the Being a Grown-up thing is weighing heavily on my mind. What does this have to do with babies? Let me elaborate:

I have seven female cousins, five of which are in their twenties. Of these five, four are pregnant and the one who is not with child is getting married at the end of the year (and already has a kid). Oh, and one of them, my age, is pregnant with twins. Yup, two babies.

Now don't get me wrong, I don't feel the pressure to have kids. If there is one thing my mother taught me it's that SHE DOES NOT WANT GRANDCHILDREN. I know, bizarre in its own right, though that's a whole other tale.

But I definitely feel the pressure of the future. The finishing school, finding jobs, having the right friends and man friend in my life. I should be planning ahead. Problem is I couldn't even tell you what I'm doing in an hour.

I'm moving in with my boyfriend on Saturday. Did you know that? If not, let the shock settle.

...

Good? Moving on. I will be sharing his two (yes, separate living quarters. As I've been telling him (and everyone) roomies first, boyfriend/girlfriend second) bedroom place and to me that is a hugeee leap for Amazonian women everywhere. Or just this Amazon woman right here anyway.

As for school, when this semester is over I will be ten classes away from a degree. Which is more scary than exciting because I am most DEFINITELY required to be an adult with a B.A. stapled to the end of my name. I'm not sure why this is, but society tells me so.

Oh, and to those fuckers out there who are like "wah wah, who cares what society thinks, wah wah": um, well the people who hire you care. And that indirectly affects what kind of place I live in and the life I'll live. And I don't want to be in overpriced two bedroom forever.

This is where my head gets stuck, I don't know how to turn myself into an adult. I don't want to turn myself into an adult! I feel like this is all a charade and any day now someone is going to come along and stick me back on the play mat with my Barbies.

I'm trying to live day to day, really I am, BUT YOU* AREN'T LETTING ME.

So what's a girl to do? Get knocked up apparently. But since that is not the answer for me, I'm going with a heavy dose of ignoring reality (or my perceived reality). And maybe just a little Celexa.



*"YOU" being the collective you of course, society and whatnot are included in the general equation of "YOU"

Keeps the doctor away.

I had a bad weekend. Got the flu like woah. On the upside, all the friends came over for a rip-roaring sayonara Merrymeeting party on Saturday. And I do mean ALL the friends. Thanks everyone, it's a little easier to say goodbye to this wonderful place now.

While I crawled (alright, drunkenly staggered is probably more accurate) up the stairs and into bed around 1:30am, everyone else stuffed the remainder of their booze in their pockets and headed down to da bars.

My boy lost all his goodies dancing (and I do mean all: wallet, iPod, cell phone, sweater) and he came up the next morning looking like his dog had died in some sort of freak accident. Moral of the story? Always keep your shit in your bra... though I suppose that really couldn't apply here anyway.

So to start the week off right (because yes, despite what your heart might tell you, for some reason it's actually Monday already), I am sharing the cutest little blog that everyone can enjoy and get some smiles from. A Lego a Day! Dude makes little scenarios with his Lego men and posts a picture everyday. They're really good!

Chin up, wha.

And these wars; they can never be won.

Alex and I went to the mall immediately after he got off work yesterday. Why do you ask? The latest Muse album, The Resistance, dropped yesterday. We had a listening party planned (with Mr. Jones included of course, him being my fellow Muse lover for the past half decade). Needless to say, we had high hopes.

Muse has been my most favourite band for a long time, a really really long time. Their last album, Black Holes and Revelations, really did it for a lot of people. They generated this whole new fan base with their overproduced catchy tunes. Some nice stuff to play on Guitar Hero, I'm sure.

Now don't get me wrong, I enjoyed their last album. It wasn't the Muse I remembered, but bands always change with the times. It was a new Muse, but one I was open to, one I purchased and listened to with love in my heart.

Muse has kind of taken a back seat since 2006 for me. Amazing albums have come out since then and I have been focusing my attention on them. But I waited for this new album. I waited and I prayed real hard, give me something that will blow my mind!

It blew my mind the wrong way.

Gone were the bass beats that had me pounding my hands on the steering wheel. No longer was Matt Bellamy singing his falsetto out loud and proud, instead he kept a tight grasp on it, I kept on waiting for something more... edgy. Most songs were an obscure power ballad, as if Timbaland had mixed a Queen song. I was, and am, very disappointed.

There are a couple good songs. As we listened through them we kept hoping that the three part symphony at the end would somehow make up for it, that the band had invested in these three songs the most. Unfortunately they were no different from the rest of the album.

I'm not saying don't listen to it, it might be your taste! I'm just really surprised to find that this is Muse's taste now. I'll probably keep listening and maybe it will grow on me. A brief perusing about the internets this morning displayed rave reviews all around. Shows how much I know.

Muse has definitely evolved, they're entering the spacey electronic future at full force. Unfortunately for me, as previously stated, I'm just not big on change.


Edit: this review dude must read my blog, apparently I'm not alone in my opinion.

The act of convincing myself.

MUN is such a funny place. A funny, nerve wracking, panic attack inducing place. I'm willing to guess (for me at least) that it's because it introduces change.

I am very resistant to change. I don't like it AT ALL. I'm a comfortable rut sort of gal.

But in all honesty it can be good. School forces everyone to band together, a team of scholars (ha) desperate to fight the depression and anxiety that is so inevitable in a place like university. It forces you to see people, like the friends you haven't thought about in years. This too is a good thing, because you see them as new people. Cause you are new people... it's inevitable... agreed?

I ran into an old buddy of mine this afternoon, she's all grown up and in her first year now. When she first called out my name in the hall I had that instant heart freeze. I hate pretending I'm friendly. We got to chatting, and I realized that in our time apart we had grown closer. Our interests and experiences jived. How exciting!

What is it I'm trying to say? MUN sucks, yes. But it doesn't have to suck THE BIG ONE. You can make it what you want to make it.

And if that means three night classes and a painfully overpriced stack of textbooks, then so be it. But I'm making sure it also means making old friends new friends, doing the best darn collage I can for Women Studies and actively trying to make the best of a truly shitty deal.

Be with me on this one, eh. I need the frick frackin support.

Ain't no grave gonna hold my body down.

I finished up the nanny gig on Wednesday, oh how bittersweet. As it was nearing the end of the day I grew more and more excited... freedom was on the horizon! But as I was getting ready to go, I found myself lingering over goodbyes - bestowing many more kisses and snuggles than any little boy wants to receive.

And when they brought out a cake, sang me a thank you song, and put two dozen roses in my arms, well, I teared up. I AIN'T GONNA LIE. But it was the pleading from Mommy DRC that got me. Homegirl just wants someone to love on her kids. And man do I love those kids. I made promises to return, took the car seats from my car and drove home.

I woke up the next day with a bizarre feeling that I was forgetting something. I've been watching these kids for nine months, I saw them more often than I did my friends or family. I think it will be awhile before I stop planning outings and crafts in my head. Even longer to stop the worrying, thinking, loving and motheringness in me.

I didn't know what to do yesterday, free time is so foreign now. Robyn and Heather came up for some meaningful what-do-we-do-now chats. WE'RE ON THE CUSP OF BEING ADULTS, ARE YOU NOT SCARED? We made plans and promises to make it a good year. School likes to take you down and we are ready to build each other up. We're kicking off [the notoriously bad month of] September with a silly sleepover (because sometimes all it takes is a bad chick flick and a bitching round of truth and dare to take you out of your head).

And though this summer has easily been the worst most hardest most emotionally draining and tiring one of my life, I am ready to move on and start fresh. To leave my depression in the dust. To see the friends I've been avoiding (I'm sorry friends, you are just too astute at reading my emotions. One cannot hide from ones self if they are being made aware of ones self by another), to live the life I want to lead, trust in my faith and karmic justice and be happy.