Rambles

I have been sitting in the hub since 10:30 this morning (it is now 7:00) and I am again doing anything but what I came here to do (study, ha). Mostly I have been daydreaming, the pastime at which I am the most skilled and accomplished.

If you need my facebook wall decrypted:

The other day I went to get my ears pierced for the first time. I have never had them pierced before because I was not allowed to when I was young, and when I was given permission it was my own expense, I was always playing some sport which made it impractical and a nuisance, I thought it would just be another thing I would be tempted to spend money on, and then I viewed it as a way of being non-conformist. None of these last three things have changed. So, why now? I’d been thinking about it for a while. When I was in Dublin I almost made Raelene take me somewhere to do it. Standing in Claire’s in the mall, crowded by the rainbow, glitter, and plastic of teenage costume jewelry, I just did it. It never felt like the right decision. It didn’t feel like the wrong decision. In fact, I don’t believe it felt like a decision at all. I just did it. Now that I have conformed I shall just have to get dreads to balance it out, although that will just be conforming with the non-conformists. Here are some probing questions my vanity has inspired me to ask: I think one of the hardest things to deal with when one is abroad is a sense of personal identity. One is supposed to accept the customs of the culture they have gone to live in which means giving up many personal habits. At which point does one draw the line? What is accepting a culture and what is being conformist? What is insulting a culture and what is being an individual?

I have also got the equivalent of a Gustavus “conversation card” when I had friends over on Wednesday night. Apparently my neighbors were crabby and decided to call the warden directly. These instances always make one feel sheepish although the fun had up until that point is usually never regretted. Irritating is the best word to describe the situation, as we were certainly not out of control, nor do I think we were actually that loud. I am not too concerned about it *knock on flimsy-thin-North-Court-flats-wood* if the guys in the room next to the front door can manage to get away with setting off the fire alarm at 4am once every two weeks.

Yesterday I reminisced my 5 month stint as an Econofoods cashier while bagging groceries at M&S, fondly known as “Markies”, as a fundraiser/charity for my friend who is biking from London to France in four days (300 miles) to raise money for the fight against Alzheimer’s. It is clever how things in life tie in to each other, as two months before I was stuck on a tour bus watching a very depressing Hallmark film on the same disease.

I am not motivated to do things right now, such as start writing my novel, save the world from global warming, and promote world peace; or, more relevantly, plan travels for my parents' visit, search for jobs, or actually study for my exam on Monday.

This blog thing doesn't allow me to cut and paste. Obnoxious.