In honour of optimism: "The Morning Of"

"Be civil to all; sociable to many;
familiar with few; friend to one; enemy to none."
-- Benjamin Franklin

This isn't some shameless advertisement for a band I-so-adore, but it is something of an inspiration. I stumbled across their MySpace page before Christmas, and I decided to bookmark it. Good that I did, eh? A week ago, I was feeling particularly morbid about returning to school (there are so many factors to add to the noxious mix) -- I still am kind of ogre-esque about the whole homeworking business -- and then some very pop-rocky song hit me smack dab in the face. Oh yes, this band made me giggle.

I suggest you click the ad, head over to their page and have a listen. Let Your Spirit Soar is one of my newest inspirations for a happier, optimistic day. Have a read:

"3 AM, A boy sits outside his house,
lonely with his guitar.
But then he plays a melody that's so familiar,
it reminds him of who we are
To the people that can hear us,
here's a message that's unwinding.
Don't break hearts and try to shake hands,
because we're living in a time of living's last chance.
Let your spirit soar!"

The BIO150 lab today was seriously going to kill me (mentally). I felt my brain slowly slush out of my ears; I really am trying to keep up with my new outlook, but it's running me over. I will not mock the lab and I will be more/act more enthused. But it was an ok lab overall -- most of my judgment is clouded by the fact that we left a good 1.5 hours earlier than usual. Fun stuff.

I think I'm going to go watch some hockey. Maybe watch another movie.
They always seem to propel me to work... in that sick, sad way.
You know, the, "Oh my GOD! I wasted my day! I should work! Oh shit!"

Yeah. Peace out.

Winter 2008: "What doesn't kill you, can only make you stronger."

"We have so much time and so little to do. Strike that, reverse it."
-- Roald Dahl (author of Charlie And The Chocolate Factory, et al)

It is with a heavy heart that I write this post. Yes, the death of our winter break is at hand. For many, new courses have sprung from the depths. For others, a single difference -- whether that be a new half course, or the presence of CHM139 or CHM138 (both beastly in workload, I hear). I suppose I could say that I'm unduly ready for the challenges that await me, but I'd be lying. And I'm a horrible liar. So instead of that fallacy, I'll tell you that I'm nervous as hell. Fear-ridden and shitting myself silly. Mentally, mind you.

I've got my work cut out for me this term. I've got essays, compositions, reports, all that and more to worry about. I've got final exams and more tests and an increase in failure-rates to deal with. Once the worst is over, I suppose I can rest. It's got to turn black, before it turns yellow; it's get to get worse, before it gets better. That is the way of the Bruises.

So tomorrow marks a new beginning, sort of. You can either take this term with a grain of salt and be taken under by its current, drowned in the undertow and smothered by false expectations. Or you can be utterly afraid, like myself, and push yourself past the brink of academic death -- find faith in your own work ethic, and propel yourself forward. Now is not a time to give up, moan, groan, or any of that juvenile business. Grow up. Accept the "This is U of T. You are a Number," cliché. Because it's not a cliché; it's the goddamn truth.

I guess the Princess Diaries is a perfect movie to watch right now (please finish this sentence before you disregard the remnants of my sanity); I think it was her father, in a letter to her, that spoke so eloquently about courage and fear. I'm not going to quote what I think it was, but I'm sure it went about saying something like, Courage is not the absence of fear, but the will to go on in the presence of it. Or something like such. Don't quote me; it's not verbatim.

So, fear this term. Be wary of it. Treat it like an opponent in a Cold War, except not really. Don't let it trample you or stare you down. Initiate. Guns at the ready, as some might say, and attack with sharpness. No use clinging to your skirts (or trousers) and whinnying about the unfairness of it all. I do that a lot -- but it's only to amuse myself. You sputter childish whines to feel less burdened, to feel more at ease. Fix what you can, when you can. Cry when you can't. That's all I can say.

So expect: moaning, groaning, angry words -- and underlying actions that make all that whining all the more palpable.

Good luck. Fare well.
Until tomorrow, at least.