Hey, it's been awhile, pt 1

I have not made a lengthy update of any form in some time. I decided to just throw a few of my thoughts onto the internet. Here are the few random things.

Graduation is coming up very soon. It feels like both the light at the end of the tunnel and yet some impending dark emptiness, for my life plans end after graduation. I have some plans, yes. But nothing really solid is ahead of me anymore. No real guarantees, save for Comic-con. I am both excited to be done with school and nervous for the unknown that lies ahead. It's a strange, albeit common, situation to be in. I feel like my head is forever playing the role of both Elrond and Arwen in Return of the King - 

Elrond: "Nothing is certain..."

Arwen: "Some things are certain."

It's like my brain has some weird schizophrenia. (But not really. I'm mentally okay.)



I would love to make more ice cream bread, and particularly try to make it the appropriate size for my pan. Yes, online, I found a recipe using ice cream and self-rising flour that makes bread. I tried it with mint chocolate chip, and I found it quite delicious. (Friendly reminder to myself: I have ice cream in the fridge). I'd love to try different flavors and make more. But buying that much ice cream could get pricy.



I am trying to finish my novel. In November, for NaNoWriMo, I wrote 50,000 words of a novel. I even gave it a fake little ending. But that wasn't the real end. I want to actually finish it. I am so close. I believe I'm only about 3 or 4 chapters away from actually finishing it. I've outlined the chapters in more detail so that writing it will be easier. Now it's just finding time and proper motivation for writing it.
The problem is in that I know it's not a fantastic book, and there are details I'm leaving out and some parts I'm summarizing a bit too much. There are probably also some bits during which I give too much detail. So why actually finish such a mess? The answer is simple and, in some ways, obvious: To say that I did. I want to honestly say that I wrote a novel. That I set out to write a story, and I finished it. And once I'm done, I will likely actually kind of want people to read it, even in its rough version. Select few might get the chance. We'll see when that moment happens.
And it will. I'm promising myself that it will.



That's my life at the current moment. That, and my procrastination tool of the time is Pokemon Red. Classic fun!



What's been going on in your lives? If you've got a blog, please share it below so that I can follow your updates!

A Moment of Guilt

One of my teachers at university announced that the class was having a field trip of sorts. We were each required to find our own means of getting there. I had a friend in the class, so she and I (and her friend) planned to carpool together. Separately, another girl/acquaintance asked if I could check with my group and see if she could come with us. (She didn't have a car and didn't want to ride the metro alone.) I agreed to inquire on her behalf.

It's the day of the field trip. My friend (and her friend) and I arrive at our destination. At this moment, I remember the fourth girl, and I remember the empty seat next to me in the car - a space she could have easily filled. I had forgotten to ask entirely. I feel a sense of guilt as I settle down into my seat as the beginning of the day's plans commence. My friends encourage me that, even though she isn't here yet, surely she has found a ride and is just a little late. I allow them to comfort me, so I enjoy the trip.

And enjoy the trip I do. I make jokes. I laugh. I ask questions. I try to see everything I can. I have a sensory overload. I cannot help but smile when we were return to our original room for the end of the trip.

Then I see her: Sitting in the back with a couple of other girls, my acquaintance. She had made it! I feel relieved that she is there, and yet a new-found guilt sweeps over me, too. I know I need to apologize.

But first I rush to the restroom. Upon exiting, I see her there. She just stands, awkwardly, waiting for something unknown. Perhaps there was one girl that was still in there, but I don't know.  I apologize as sincerely as I feel. She forgives, but remains quiet. Sometimes she's quiet, and I hope it's just one of those times. I consider my apology as good as I will give it.

My friends and I head to our car. I enjoy sitting in the back, so I take a seat behind shotgun.

Once my friends have settled in, I see it: a large orb weaver spider crawling up the back of the passenger's seat. I cannot think of anything to say but, "there's a huge spider on the back of the seat." My friend in the seat thinks I'm joking, but I can see it crawling up towards her hair. My words fail me, for I cannot say, "it's crawling towards you!" Instead, I say something more like, "move!" She still proceeds to listen and hurriedly leaves the car. The driver and I follow.

The spider crawls out of our vision from outside of the car, and none of us are brave enough to go back in. I eventually gather some courage to enter the car, but I can never kill a spider. (The reason for that is another story all together; just know it's really hard for me to kill a spider and have an okay conscience.)  I remember that I have some papers in my purse. I carefully try to lure the spider onto a piece of paper. The orb weaver is not budging; it's not afraid of me.

At this point, some other women, seeing us, approach our car to make sure we are okay. Among these ladies is my acquaintance. We explain the situation and my acquaintance, without fear, steps into the car, and urges the spider onto her hand. She walks over to a tree and lets it crawl off. We thank her several times, and then enter the car, safe* from the spider at last.

As much fun as I had, that last moment adds more guilt to my shame: I had forgotten her. She kindly asked for one thing, and it had completely left my mind. Yet, at the end of the day, her kindness permitted us to get on the road home sooner than it would have otherwise taken. In that moment, I felt rather small, and she rather large.

At least I know she's kind to the smaller creatures.

*orb weaver spiders are actually not really dangerous spiders, but since we were really afraid of it, the safety felt equally as real. 

Catching the Bus

After this school year, and many days of taking either the school shuttle or local bus, I've learned a few things:

Firstly, the bus/shuttle will always be late if I am right on time or early. I will always find myself waiting at the bus stop for an unrealistic amount of time.

 Secondly, if I am running late, the bus will suddenly be on time or ahead of schedule. This is actually more true for the shuttle than the bus itself. This is particularly impressive, considering the shuttle has a live feed which is suppose to tell people the most accurate time of its arrival from that moment. This system, funny enough, is often not working at all.

 Thirdly, there is a strange situation that always occurs at that moment when I'm running late. Whether to the bus or the shuttle, there is a pathway that gives me a clear view of my stop. I usually walk this path swiftly, and it feels that the time from the point I can see the stop to actually arriving at the stop is about a minute. This is how it feels in almost every situation.

One thing changes this: The bus's arrival. If I see the bus has already arrived, I will run. Suddenly, everything becomes as within a nightmare, and my running seems to make me slower. With each step, the path appears to grow longer, and the bus grows more distant. My running seems futile. The conclusion of the event changes depending on to which automobile I am running: The shuttle or the bus. If I am running to the shuttle when this happens, it will undoubtedly leave without me, no matter how close I am finally to reaching my destination. If it is the bus, though, the driver has mercy and will wait.

This, and the fact that the bus was closer to my home and I grew lazy, is the reason I started taking the bus more.