The Recess... (welcome to the alcoves of my mind)

Hangin' in there...

Heh.

posted by Megan at 11:42 p.m.

Day 3

Getting a little worried.

posted by Megan at 3:15 a.m.

This week in photographs: Day 2

Divin' right in.


























(this might end badly.)

posted by Megan at 4:28 p.m.

In an effort to express my current state of mind regarding school, work and life in general, please refer to the following photograph:




















Thank you.

posted by Megan at 11:59 p.m.

Hey hey I wanna be a rock star

I heart iPod mini.

Through all of the craziness that's been going on over the past few weeks (and that's bound to continue until Dec. 5), my absolute favourite part of the day has been my half-hour commute to and from school. At night I go to bed at 3 a.m. because I can never sleep when I'm stressed, wake up four hours later in a semi-conscious haze and somehow function enough to shower, dry my hair and put clothes on all the necessary places (forgot one pit with the deodorant one day last week, but otherwise the morning routine seems to be fairly successful).

So I shuffle my still-dazed self down to the bus stop at either 7:55 or 8:20, depending on whether my class is at 8:30 or 9:00, and wait for the 97 to pick me up on its way to Bayview. As I walk down my street I make my morning music selection on da mini. If I'm really tired I'll throw on something a little louder or energetic, like Nickelback, BNL, GBS or most recently, Fall Out Boy. If I'm in need of a little chill-out time before the insanity of the day starts (most likely right before a journalism class), I go for Coldplay, the Shins, or the new Lifehouse (SO good!). Some days its a mix of all of the above.

Once on the bus, no matter how much I get squished up against the door, or smooshed between two six-foot-plus guys who won't let me reach out to hold the bar for balance, I fall into this state of absolute bliss. I find a square of window to stare out of, and just let the music take over every single competing thought in my head. My imagination kicks in and until I get to my O-Train connection I'm able to go on these little three-minute musical vacations.

Since October I've actually missed the O-Train twice because I forgot I was travelling and no one else rang the bell after Tunney's Pasture to remind me. The first time I got all the way to Bay Street before I realized it, and had to walk over to Albert to catch the bus back...the second time I only made it as far as Lebreton.

The O-Train usually arrives just after I get off the bus, but I've always got enough time to make my way down to the stop at a pace so relaxed I can actually see evolution taking place around me. One time the train was already there when I stepped off the 97, and I wound up missing it just because I couldn't be bothered to run (this was before it got cold. These days a warm train in -10 degrees lights a fire under my ass like you wouldn't believe).

The train ride is short, but I can usually get at least two more songs in before I have to return to the unpleasant reality of going to class. I don't mind so much though, because I know I'll get to do it all over again at the end of the day.

I think despite the fact that it sucks busing in the winter, I probably won't get a car for as long as I can help it. Besides the environmental pluses of using public transport, I just don't think it would be wise to daydream about my alternate life as a rock star while flying down the Queensway at 120 clicks.

They frown on that you know.

posted by Megan at 3:12 p.m.

For the love of all that is good in this world:

Why can't I ever sleep?

I have to be up in three hours.

Fuck.

posted by Megan at 3:21 a.m.

Found a better picture of the tattoo I want

Check it out:












I like the brush stroke effect and I think four lines are better than six...I like it :D.

posted by Megan at 12:59 a.m.

all's well...

Ok, just so you all know, I haven't gone completely insane. It's just been a stressful last couple weeks and since people have their own shit to deal with I decided that instead of venting out loud I would express myself in alternative ways.

I had a good end to a bad week this week. My story turned out great, and as a highlight Environment Minister Stéphane Dion actually called my house for an interview!! He restored my faith in politicians, that's for sure (leave it to the greenies eh??). I wound up getting top story on the bill this issue, which not only gives me a decent clip for my portfolio, but also makes me feel like this journalism thing just might be something I can do after-all.

If you guys want to check it out it's at www.capitalnews.ca.

And the hair? Well, the hair's just something I'm trying on. I figure that hair is really the only versatile thing on my entire body. Besides clothes it's the only thing you can change up every so often and not do any permanent damage.

I think I'm going to dye it red.

And speaking of permanent damage I've also been toying with the idea of getting a tattoo. It would be really small, really simple, and for the sake of parents and grandparents alike, really hideable.

This:











on the top of my left foot, about 3/4 inch square, just below my fourth and baby toes.

What can I say...seems like I've finally become a teenager. I might grow up one of these days after-all.

Bed time. I'm out.

posted by Megan at 2:03 a.m.

Life in a nutshell

School sucks. Journalism rapes me every single day.

I'm going crazy and I'm feeling like the only thing I every thought I was good at I've actually failed miserably at.

So I've done the only thing a person can do in this situation:

I got a fauxhawk.

FRONT VIEW:















SIDE VIEW:















I'll tell you the same thing I told my mother: If you don't like it, get over it. No, I'm not a lesbian.

I feel agnsty and rebellious. Lets go smoke some drugs.

posted by Megan at 12:54 a.m.

Say it with me: "One More Year!!"

Holy cow am I sick of school.

No, I mean I'm really sick of school.

And it's not so much the whole "going to class" thing, I've actually never really had a problem with that. Yea, I've missed the odd lecture or two in my day, but 90 per cent of the time it's been journalism-related in one form or another.

And maybe that's it. It's not that I'm so much sick of school, it's that I'm sick of the non-journalism school. I understand that in first year they want you to diversify, especially since you've only got a 50/50 chance of staying in the program anyway. I can even inderstand taking some electives in second and third year to distract you somewhat from j-school boot camp. But FOURTH YEAR? Seriously, are you KIDDING ME?

I want to be a journalist. I wouldn't have gone this far if I didn't. So can we PLEASE, for the love of all that is good in this world, just cut the bull shit and just let me get my degree?

I'm sick of it. But you know what I'm sick of the MOST? Grades. I HATE grades. I hate that my entire world can be lifted sky-high or catapulted sub-terrainian based on where I land amongst the first four letters of the aphabet. And again, it's not that I fare badly in the grades department. They're nothing to write home about, but nothing to be ashamed of either. I just hate that some pompous TA whome I've never even met has the power to send my day to the shitter with no more than a stroke or a loop. Friggin jack-ass.

WOW, that feels better.

posted by Megan at 9:52 p.m.