Much Farther To Go

I know it’s nearly -20 at home right now, but I almost wish I were there. It’s dark there and here at 4pm. Good news, it starts getting lighter in two weeks, the day we get home. Coincidence? I think not! (joking, joking) I miss the way the streetlights reflect off of the snow, making the sky a burnt orangey colour, so that it’s never really dark outside.

So, I did this way too much with my old blog, but these lyrics are me right now, this is part of Carrie’s Song by Vienna Teng.

so far so good
coffee motel coffee diner coffee go on
styrofoam is drying like the tears that once did flow
starting 10 o’clock and ending at dawn

and you can’t go back but you’re going back
and you don’t know what you’ll say
you’ve got half-formed sentences
explanations for a life half-broken away
and they just may
they’ll take you in their arms and then take out their knives
so you drive on thinking

so far so good
but you can’t go on much longer like this you know

I almost peeeed myself in sainsbury’s today…because I saw this DVD for sale at the check out!! so I bought it!

I couldn’t help it. I just watched it and it was half an hour of pure nostalgia. I don’t even remember where I watched it all the time. CBC I’m guessing, because it’s British. Ah, childhood

evenings!! I think there shouldn’t be a time between 20:00 and the morning. Let’s say I’m not the most efficient person during the day, and I reassure myself that I’m an evening person when it come to schoolwork anyway, so I’ll be fine. Not so much lately. So I still get almost nothing done during the day, and continually get almost nothing done in the evening. I know right now it’s probably one of my ‘mood’ things. I can go through weeks of being in a strange mood just because. Well, I guess I’ve been in a mood for a month and a half not for no reason. And don’t get me started on trying to fall asleep. I usually try to stay awake as long as I can and try to exhaust myself to sleep, which really fucks up functioning for the next day, but it’s a self-defeating cycle.

It’s a kind of psychosis for me almost. I haven’t had this much free time since my first year out of high school and I only worked part time. Like, how did I keep from going absolutely insane then?? Well I guess I wasn’t completely unbusy, like I am here. I spend so little time in class (and technically I haven’t been to class in a week, and I don’t think I’ll actually go to any more), live so far from city center, have so few friends, and have so few opportunities, that…well, I end up sitting on my hands a lot.

This is the part of me that’s excited to get home. Which is exciting and all, but for some reason I feel like I still need something big to look forward to. I know the next part of my life is going to be extremely busy, and I guess I’m genuinely looking forward to that, but a part of me just wants something nice to happen to me for a change…

So, this is megs and I our first weekend here. I remember most of that day, how I was still getting used to blistered feet, being proud of ourselves because we didn’t need a tour to tell us where the hoe and barbican were, we’d already discovered them on our own. Somewhere in this semester, we forgot about getting ahead, and now I feel terribly, terribly behind. And without a chance to make it right. The coursework will be fine. I will be writing three papers in this next week. In addition to a discussion and test, but really, I’m just fucked. Anyway, looking back at pictures makes me wish I could kind of go back and do it over. NO, not differently, except maybe for the homework part. I didn’t know what I had then. And I know I’m going to look back at this very moment and say the same.

Back on the subject of music, I’ve found a ton since getting here, I’m really going to miss radio one. I know I can listen to it online, but I don’t think I’m going to want to get up at ungodly hours just to listen to the Chris Moyles show live. That being said, for the first, oh say…two months here, the six hour time difference was really disorienting. Deciding when people should call, when they’d finally respond to emails, etc, really felt like it shortened the day. Getting back will be a little different, it’ll be strange to picture my friends out for the night when it’s only midday where I am. ANYWAY, music. It’s all love songs. I don’t know why. It doesn’t bother me until I start to realize that everyone’s talking about how hurt they’ve been, how bad things have happened to them, boo freaking hoo. Liars. What about those times that they’ve done the hurting? No possible way have they been the victim in every relationship they’ve been in. I’d like to hear a song about how they’ve hurt someone else. But then they might have to say they’re sorry, and they may not be. Good point, why would they write about someone they don’t care about? Ah, us victims. I guess we just as well may go on and write sad hurt songs of our own…

One of my favourite songs at the moment (i’ve got a bazillion). The video is hauntingly beautiful. Apparently the lyrics aren’t in a real language, and they’re up to individual interpretation. So, that’s what I did! Now if only this is what I was going to school for. Now, here’s what I hear, but really it changes everytime I listen.

You sigh low, fly
you soar, glide
you soar
you sigh low, fly
you soar like
your soal is afar, no
you saw love
you saw, you sigh slow
you sigh slow
you saw
you sigh low, fly
you soar, like
you saw, you sigh low, fly
you soar, glide
your soal is so far, oh
you saw love
you soar
you sigh low
you sigh low
you soar

So, this didn’t turn out to be much of a travel blog at all. I did have grand visions of what it was going to be. Dramatic and funny stories of me and Meghan in the English experience. And well, dramatic and funny as some experiences have been, I’ve kept them mostly to my own journal. I considered going back and posting on my old blog, but then I spent a good chunk of last night and this morning re-reading everything. I really don’t know what to say about it either than…fuck. I don’t know whether to be happy I’ve changed so much and so dramatically, or be profoundly ashamed of myself.