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Haaaaaay guys! That word doesn’t mean what you think it means. IT HAS DOUBLE-MEANING.

Okay, I don’t want to be stupid. To be honest, that’s why I don’t want to write a post right now. So this is me writing a post to tell you that I’m not going to be writing a post because my brain’s going on hiatus from watching too many episodes of Sister Wives/ watching Dawson’s Creek/ playing Sims 3 writing essays and being studious.

I literally woke up at 11 am this morning and expected to get to work only, oh, 9 hours later to push through (sounds like giving birth, doesn’t it?) and finish my facking essays. Alas, kittens puking on youtube and weird polygamous sects… they both have strange aspects of them that make it hard to look away. And it’s not even that my essay is boring in any form (feminism! HOO-RA), it’s just that it is an essay and oh dear strange man up in the sky, do I – more than I ever have in the history of education or, ok, last year around April – ever just want to sit on my couch, make my Sims “Woohoo!” a million times and recreate the strange polygamy happening in Sister Wives. And maybe sometimes cheat so I can build them McMansions and pretend they’re on Cribs.

I know that sounds weird, but you’re just going to have to trust me on this one.

Arina wishes you all studious-minded brains luck with exams and essays and peaces out.

A

P.S. “What’s My Age Again?” just started playing and I AM TOTALLY ROCKING OUT RIGHT NOW.

P.P.S. There’s 15 cm of SNOW tomorrow? At the end of March. Typical, Canada, typical.

Happy Monday! You know why? Because the sun decided to bless us with its oh-so-elusive presence today. Because that makes me anti-depressed. Because that means that skirts are almost here. However, this, along with the wonderful hour that we lost in sleep on Saturday night makes me feel like at 6 pm when the sun should be going to bed and I should be relaxing, I am just beginning my work.

Skirts. Shoes. Toes! At least spring is crawling back to me, even if my time orientation is skewed.

I’ve been thinking lately about sadness, about encouragement, about being told over and over again that we’re privileged, spoiled and self-absorbed. As wonderful Miranda Ward puts it,

Because, you know, I’ve been sitting here on the edge of my seat, thinking, gee whiz, it’s been, like, TWO DAYS since someone last wrote an article slamming my generation, and, well, who knows what sort of amazing new insight we’re gonna get this time.

That girl really knows how to stitch a word or two together, not to mention that I adore her blog title – A Literal Girl.  Literally.

*ba-dum-PSHHH*

Well, the point here is that Miranda’s kind of right. “You can be anything” followed up by “you’re so entitled” doesn’t really scream “balanced and realistic encouragement for the creation of normal and successful individuals” does it? It doesn’t.

I thought I could be a painter when I was in high school, only to be told repeatedly by my well-intentioned parents that being a painter is not a viable life choice and that I needed to set my sights on something more realistic. Clearly, choosing writing was like flipping them the bird, but they’ve (thankfully) gotten over that bit now. Maybe they just haven’t read about the demise of print culture/magazines/the publishing industry/the written word like I have and therefore don’t see what kind of suicidal move it really is. Or maybe I am great at bullshitting and subtly segueing the conversation into something like delicious Thai food. I love segueing into food, by the way.

But that has nothing to do with what I wanted to say, which is well.. in this day all you have to be is creative to get to where you want to be. Don’t think that a job will bring meaning to your life – just do what you are ready for and expect your desires, your life course, your personality to CHANGE. Possibly constantly and forever. In fact, evolution is probably the best life (not to mention biological) skill that you can gift yourself. Because going with the flow is the best option in a world where a university degree WON’T guarantee you a job, and studying hard WON’T provide you with an instant income (see: Student Voice via TalentEgg!)

You have to be a multi-talented workaholic chameleon and stunningly devoted to every mundane task thrown at you. It’s all about paying your dues if sticking in one industry is something you’re passionate about. That’s something that I’ve found travel writers (who I read constantly) know quite a bit about. Especially Kristin Luna of Camels and Chocolate – she has this great post on her site titled, “So You Wanna Be a Travel Writer?” which basically turned into an “if you can hack it – try it, but don’t think it’s easy” sort of moratorium on my travel writing dreams.

I mean, I don’t really like change. I’ll admit it. Change is hard to deal with, but I’m learning that sometimes it’s not the worst thing in the world. In fact, it makes you look harder, work smarter, procrastinate less than you did when you were comfortable. In the end, I think you end up with better-suited opportunities. So even being laid off from work is a great opportunity, if you make it one (side note: everyone should go and read Candice Walsh’s blog. Cause I said so. And cause she know how to down a good pint.)

It’s all about how you’re willing to adapt to life, which can be as unpredictable as an earthquake (see: Japan). We’re well aware of how much natural disasters change things, and it’s unlikely that they change them for the better. Life is like that too, but sometimes you have to build what you can out of the remains; you concoct strategies to deal with future disasters; you become stronger and more resistant and better able to cope. You become passionate about the evolution of your life as a thing easily swayed. And while sticking with decisions is still an admirable trait, it’s only great if you’re moving towards a better life, and if you’re not then maybe it’s time for a change.

I gave up a lot of my responsibilities in February, and for a while that made me nervous. But now I see it was the most exciting thing I could have done for myself. I like being on the lookout, I like finding opportunities for myself, and I like always pushing myself to get more and more experiences that will open my mind. I like having time to write and to nurse my mother back to health and spend time with my bratty sister (all in the hope that her attitude won’t get any worse than it is at 9 years old…. but who am I kidding?)

I like being free to meet my friends for a drink and really think about things again. Like my essays, which I’m about to go write.

I know that spring is coming, and that means it’s time to try new things again and get out of my funk.

A

It’s Sunday, and for once my family is doing nothing.  I am writing my Media Critique essay.  It’s coming out pretty easy – I’ve already got two pages written, which is astonishing and incredible and making me ridiculously.. content.  It’s due on the 29th and getting a draft of it done this early is simply a miracle (I tend to do my heaviest work the week prior).  However, this course, and its assignments are pretty incredible in that our professor isn’t insistent on sources and referencing – we focus clearly on the writing and any interesting things we have to say about our topic.  Our writing is what is judged, not our last-minute-cobbled-together-evidence-for-absolute-bullocks-and-has-no-relation-to-the-topic-thesis-or-point-of-the-essay.  That is what I love.  It helps our writing.

And I’ve been doing well in it, so I’m all giggly.

I’m writing the media critique about the show Skins, a british drama comedy about a bunch of pill-popping, smoking, alcoholic brats in grade 11 and 12 (or 6th form as they like to say in England).  It’s incredibly explicit and the filming techniques are realistic about the portrayal of the various situations portrayed in the show, which is a nice contradiction to everything O.C., although I do love me some Peter Gallagher.  Yuuuum-y!

Old school Gallagher.

I’m also going to the semi-finals of Toronto Poetry Slam today – so excited! Just made me remember Brendan McCleod and Barbara Adler from The Fugitives – an amazing Canadian poetry/music/spoken word troupe.  I am basically in an eternal state of jealousy-induced awe for these guys, and when I listen to their songs (and the fact that they can memorize them a-stounds me) I just feel awfully guilty about not writing more and not being better and not caring enough about my writing to make it get THAT great.  I know it can be.  Eventually.  But I also feel like writing grows with you, and I am most definitely not done growing yet, so I have some time left, unless I die tomorrow or whatever.

All of a sudden, after listening to Gallagher’s take on “Don’t Give Up on Me” (you can listen too if you click on his name earlier in the post), I listened to Solomon Burke’s original, which is of course, better by inches.  But I mean, it’s Solomon Burke.  This guy is becoming fused to Toni Morrisson for me right now, simply because of the book that I finished reading for english class, called Song of Solomon.  Not only do they have the same NAME (coincidence? or FATE?), but because of his style of music, his voice, his content – especially the song, None of Us Are Free, which I remember listening to as a little kid on my dad’s CDs.  Goddamn I miss this man and his voice.  I just… I want to make sweet sweet love to this man’s voice.

As Ms. Jillian Christmas says, “like all the right kinds of wrong.”  :) (A fantastic spoken word poet from my very own living-place of Markham.)

Anyway, I should go bugger off and do something interesting.  As you can see I’m bursting full of useless references and facts.  I’m sure this is something I’ll carry into a ripe old age and frustrate the hell out of my grandkids about, much like my own grandparents.

:) Cheerio, and have a good end to the weekend!

-Arina

Right now I can’t help but fall asleep all day.  I’m not sick, nor dying, nor overworked.  No, nothing of the sort.

I just really don’t want to do my work, and it is cloudy outside.

I think that warrants enough excuse to NOT do anything. Yes? Except that I need to bring in a draft of a paper by Monday to my Professional Writing class.. but you know.

Still confused about summer – get another job? Extra job? I don’t want to quit this job, I love this job.  Do I apply for that internship? How much do I want to work in the summer? I have to start making these choices now.  It’s already middle of March.

Time is like, all lightning fast and shit.

Fuck me.

-Arina

Does anyone else think that Jacques Servin is THE SHIT? I randomly picked up NOW! Magazine on my way to work from York today because I had nothing to read on the bus, and I read this article about the Yes Men, who are apparently guys that just, fake being important people to represent shitty giant corporations and FUCK. THEM. OVER.

I know what you are all thinking, and I’ll say it for you here:

YIPPPPPPPPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!! Where do I join?

I mean, I don’t know about you guys, my readers, but I often get the feeling that the world is smelly, veiny, old, kind of blue-cheese tainted BALLS.  These guys remind me that sometimes, having balls is not a bad thing.

Speaking of MIS-representation, in Canada (Oh, the Great White North) on our radios, we have trends just like elsewhere in the world.  In fact, mostly like our Evil Twin Brother, the States.  Many top 40 stations have been playing this song called Fireflies by Owl City and it took me a long time to put the name of the song, the band and the actual music together into one entity.  And then I realized how MUCH it reminded me of something else I’d heard before.  It stumped me for weeks.  Days, even.  And I knew I had heard those riffs somewhere, I just couldn’t quite put my pick on it.  And then my friend Peter (thanks Pete!) facebooked a quote by Chris Walla from this article at Exclaim: “Owl City should really consider buying Ben a pony.”  Peter sums up this conundrum in a nice way, so instead of trying to explain it to you guys, I’m just going to illegally quote him here (and gramatically corret him for the face value of my blog, obvi), and then possibly link him to the page :

Chris Walla is in Deathcab for Cutie with Ben Gibbard. Ben is also in a side project called Postal Service. Postal Service is poorly imitated by Owl City. Some would call this imitation “plagiarism” and as such, could argue that Owl City owes royalties. A pony is a funnier way of saying it.

So there you go.  Problem explained?  The reason I couldn’t put my finger on it is because I listen to so much swoopy, instrumental music that it gets confused in this little brain of mine.  Anyway, the Postal Service is an amazing band.  Stunning music, beautiful lyrics, so emotive.  Owl City is like a Panic At the Disco’d version of Postal Service – mass produced for tweens with shitty shittiness of shit.  Owl City basically ruins the good that Postal Service creates.  So, BOO OWL CITY, BOO.

And in accordance with my solidarity, here’s some Postal Service for ya’!

I haven’t even watched the video, but I love listening to them on Sundays.  Sundays are a good day for Postal Service.  Except that you can’t GET postal service on Sundays…. HAHAHA. Get it? I’m so funny. Don’t deny it.

Anyway, apart from these things my day was a waste.  Fucking labs.  REALLY, COLOURS CAN BE BROKEN UP INTO RAINBOWS? FUCK YOU.  FUCK RAINBOWS.

Fuck.

Tomorrow, essays on James Joyce and then a concert of traditional Persian music.  Because that’s how I roll.

Ciao.
Arina.