Pathetic, the path of this day.

A second attempt at xanga... www.xanga.com/jennyjunebug
Yeah, I doubt it'll get much update. I say this with utter confidence since I've never been one to have the keen ability to chronicle my less than average days. By average of course I mean "exciting". I think they key there though is that I can never be that publicly "honest" about my life.


I woke up this morning. It was 9:49 am. Just in time to get ready for my 11:00 am Intro to Asian Art discussion. I got up and went to the bathroom where I spent a good twenty minutes just sitting on the toilet... reflecting. Finally, I washed my face and brushed my teeth. Truly exciting stuff; I did my newfound brushing technique... You know, the circular stroke type. 10:25, left the bathroom. I changed. Not quite the outfit I would really approve of... but it's college and well academia can care less about your fashion sense. I think I've even sort of developed this theory that the crappier you dress, the better you're bound to do in college. Next week, I plan to wear sweats and sweats only. If you see me around campus wearing anything remotely what might be considered an upgrade from such a get-up, please, please, feel free to stop me and point out that I will fail in life... Thanks.
So 12:45, class finally ends. I rush to the shuttle stop seeing that mother nature was about to lash out and pour some rain on my beloved laptop that I was carrying with me. Well, actually luck was on my side though... I got to the shuttle stop and exactly then the shuttle arrives. I get on it. It was nice. As the shuttle made the turn from York Hall to the Muir College area, "Kiss Me" by sixpencenonethericherextremelylongtitle began to play. And right at this exact moment I happened to be staring out the window. It felt like the quintessential scene from a short film IFC would be proud to showcase on one of their festivals. The Toronto one maybe?
So I get off the shuttle and walk back to my little cubicle (dorm). I immediately felt the need to plug in my laptop and open the iTunes... it was on shuffle of course. The first song that played was "No Lies, Just Love" by Bright Eyes. Already, I can tell this was going to be a pathetic day. So here I am, sitting in front of my computer blogging, ditching class, drinking chamomile tea... just as I had predicted.

Amputations of Thought

I am stuck at the limitations of limited thought.

Every potential idea is blocked by an over-analytical mind that ceases to be anything but critical; in short it is writer's block.

I met a Kelvin tonight. No, there was no interaction between temperature and I. It was simply a boy named Kelvin. An interesting figure. He wears green, sporting that sort of flippy hair that would make slutty girls at my old high school swoon. Except, no I don't think he has a studly bone in his body. He is simply like me. I am intriguing... that is our power. At least I would think. He's an interesting sort. Why? I don't know what his appeal is, but I would like to be his friend. And no, I don't mean the perpetual hipster I would end up talking to online on occasion about "cool happenings" and odd blogs and nerdy talk being the subject matter. No, I'd love to be his friend.

Genetic Disability

Interesting session today in my "Disability in Film" seminar. We discussed the complexities of disabilities; where political correctness and blatantly wrong labels meet in a spectrum of an overall losing battle. It seems that no matter what, words seem to fall short of ever satisfying a feeling, an emotion, even a description. It makes me somewhat disappointed, somehow I've now developed this defeatist attitude towards the power of words. How much power could it really hold? After all, it's always going to fall short, no matter what. Of course, I guess this is somewhat of a pessimistic perception because really perfection is neither attainable or desirable. Well, at least it shouldn't be desirable.
It's like the relationship between the potentially invincible perfection of genetics and the non-duplicable trait of what it means to be human. I think that perfection is neither attainable nor should it be ever desirable for the fact that life revolves around the power of genetics and the miracle of being "human". For example, the "heart"; we can mean heart as in the bleeding, beating organ or the more existential kind dealing with matters of courage and faith and the ability to love; to be human. Then again, the definition of either one by itself is nothing without the other. You can't live without an instrumental heart and you can't truly live without the other because then really what are you living for? Courage and the ability to be "attached" is what drives human existence after all... It's what inevitably what makes anyone want to live a life.

... Hmmm I think I'll nap on this thought for now.