Always, always: my blog is my last friend. You don't catch me writing when I'm having fun, do you? No. Because when I'm freakishly happy, it doesn't occur to me to complain. Of course that happens rarely, but when I want to complain my first choice is Alishmish, being that she is my roommate; she generally has the same issue as me, and misery isn't really misery unless it has company. But Alishmish, unfortunately, is in America. How unreasonable of her, don't you think? She refused to fly without a passport. The nerve, leaving me alone here. So knock her off the list.
I suppose my next would be Niranjan, being that he is my boyfriend, and is therefore bound to love me unconditionally no matter how unreasonable I sound. But Niranjan has exams (what does he think of himself?) so once again, I have come up short. And so on and so forth for all possible candidates.
And I don't really feel comfortable discussing my issues with the way life goes with the people who are currently available.
I don't however have a problem spilling my guts to the internet, so here goes my repetitive string of complaints:
I have decided, after much contemplation, that I am in a rut. Again. Why do I feel thus, you ask? Such a simple question, my comrade. And yet I don't really have the answer, which is in fact the tip of the iceberg at hand. Confused? So am I. But I deign to explain.
My theory is, over the past few weeks, my brain has slowly leaked out of my head. This is a direct result of not having anything to use it on. Bereft of the many contenders for attention my brain normally has to deal with, it has melted in this Indian summer and slipped out of my reach.
As we all know, the brain contains neurons which, to put it simply, enable us to live. They absorb external data, make sense of it, and trigger appropriate responses. Now I, lacking these neurons, not only fail to properly understand the condition of the world around me, I also fail to respond appropriately.
Which means, concisely, that I'm acting like a very drunk, very stoned, or very hormonal person. Take your pick.

So I just read my last post and I thought, why am I always so negative? I know, I know, I'm such a bucket full of sunshine (bucket full? What?) that people sometimes forget I'm inherently pessimistic, but there you have it. I complain incessantly about everything. Reading my blog, you'd thing I was a starved Ethiopian child (although I do somewhat resemble one), when the very fact that I even have a blog is evidence to the contrary.
So anyway.
Life, surprisingly (there it comes, the omnipresent pessimism) is looking up. Isn't that weird? First of all, I have found my calling. Sort of. My newest life plan is to double major in Computer Science and English. I see this as fiscally responsible (for myself, anyway) because even if I have to delay going to grad school, CS majors make some money, right? Right. Don't argue with me. But then, when I go to grad school, I can study virtually anything, given my both aesthetically pleasing and efficiently businesslike background of language and logic (except science/engineering of course, and who wants to do that anyway?). Meaning that I can do law, business, animation, media, or AI. I said I could do anything.
But even apart from the mundane, good things are happening to me. My voice is coming back! Yay! Although I can't sing yet, I can talk (always a good sign) - and rehearsal this week is cancelled, nor am I singing next Sunday at mass, which means - get ready - I don't have to sing for another two weeks! My hope is that I'll be able to long before then (duh) but the point is, by some strange twist of fate, Life Is Going Well.
Next: Both my lab and my computer science class have been cancelled tomorrow. This means I have almost all of tomorrow free, which means I can go to Mayfair and The Queen of Hearts Ain't Even Pretty and finish all my homework for Wednesday. Amazing, isn't it?

What can I say, I have good karma. I'm going to go now before I jinx it.

27 February

There are only two pages of my blog posts. Although I do have three blogs. Or is it four? Why don't I know this? I am a pathetic, pathtic, blogger. Aren't bloggers supposed to have pages and pages and PAGES about nothing slash themselves? Yes.
Only when I want to type something will everyone go quiet. Fuck them.
I'm working at the library (hence the graveyard silence) and still wallowing in the muck that is my life over how I will never gain self actualization or even happiness if I don't find my calling, ASAP.
Scratch that, I know what my calling is. But singing doesn't put money in the bank unless you win American Idol, and nerves don't put you on American Idol (excepting "Top Ten Worst Auditions" which I'd rather not be on, thanks). So here I am, reluctant Computer Science major number 1! (To be enunciated like Megara). And while I can think of at LEAST ten other majors that I could be doing, I'm too gutless to major in something without a guaranteed paycheck as soon as I get out of college. That, of course, is the inherent disease of the world. That living is not viable without a job.
After work I'm going to take a (public, I hate them) bus to the mall to buy pink hair dye, and then I'm going to dye my hair (again). Then I'm going to race to Helfaer in order to rub my face in the fact that being a theater major is MUCH more appealing than Computer Science (I'm going to watch The Last Five Years. Come with me.). And then I'll come home, shove all my stuff off the bed onto the floor, and fall asleep surrounded by this mess.
Just the average day, you know. In the life of a reluctant Computer Sci...yeah, yeah, you know.