Upbeat and in the Sky

You know what?
I recently realized that generally, I'm a pretty happy person.
And I didn't used to be anywhere near that, either; at one point, I was suicidal and ready to end everything because I found that I had no goals and nothing at all I was interested in and therefore no real reason to live and waste the time and resources of those around me. I would've dug deeper with that box cutter had I had the courage and no one at all would've known until morning, when it was too late for anyone to convince me otherwise.

And I can reflect upon all this now, a positive human being, incredibly hopeful for the future. In two short years, I've grown as a person by leaps and bounds, really at a rate I have trouble believing. Freshman year, I was an incredibly childish, terribly lonely and unhappy little girl. Sophomore year, I was still incredibly childish and still moderately unhappy, but I had friends that loved me and that I loved back dearly. Junior year, now, I am STILL incredibly childish (but working on it ;) ), happy, for the most part, and I have friends that I absolutely could never part from and I am still continuing to make more friends as my social skills evolve and I learn more how to relate to people. I can't wait until next year, really. I can't wait for the rest of my life.

The End of the World

No, not the album by The Real Tuesday Weld. (But I AM listening to it as I write this. :) )
I'm talking about December 21, 2012.

After hearing a friend mention the date, I remembered a history class discussion from nearly four years ago where we talked about the Mayan prediction of the end of the world, set on our calendar's equivalent of December 21st 2012. The thing that made it most frightening was not that it would occur during our lifetimes, it was that the Mayans were seldom wrong in their celestial predictions. Will the world really end in a flurry of volcanic, oceanic, astral tumult and end human, plant and animal life as we know it?

...I don't think so.

And even if it does, Nicolas Cage will save the race by allowing his son to leave with the angel aliens!

(Good GOD. Knowing was slightly disturbing.)

Oh, and survivalists? That was the day predicted for the beginning of the new Mayan calendar. No disastrous end was foretold. And one more thing before I finish this blog up...Um, if it really were the end of the world, or at least the date on which natural disasters would destroy most of the livable space and pretty much all the people on this earth, wouldn't you kind of want to die? Just a thought...;)

Thing I Have Realized #2

Nothing is large in any way. Everything is comprised of smaller units and you can tackle a large thing by getting through it in small increments or by destroying smaller factions.

Thing I Have Realized #1

Everything is flawed to some degree, so don't feel bad about not being perfect. Perfection does not and never has existed.

Insomnia and Edith Edith Edith

I can't stop listening to Edith Piaf songs. Je les aime beauCOUUUP.

Anyway. I'm reading about the effects of Ambien at the moment and finding the results of my search HILARIOUS. Here: http://www.boingboing.net/2009/02/18/emailing-while-aslee.html

I've sleepwalked three times in my life. The first time happened when I was maybe like...I dunno, 10? I was asleep in my mom's bed and I was fully aware of my actions but unable to control any of them, and as I watched myself in a sort of calm euphoria, my arm knocked everything off the nightstand, books, glass of water, papers, lamp, and I realized I was sleepwalking. Odd, right?

The other two times occurred last year and the year before that. One of those times, I woke up, took a seat in the bathtub completely clothed, and turned on the spigot. I left it on for a few minutes before curling up in the wet and falling back asleep. The second and more recent of these sleepwalking episodes occurred at about four AM on a Thursday night as I climbed out of bed, took off my shirt, put it in the hamper, put on a dirty shirt, emptied my hamper, and clambered inside. I woke up unable to feel my feet or arms. It was kind of awful.

I also have sleepover incidents. Apparently, I will wake (or I used to wake) in the middle of the night, sit up in my sleeping bag, look around with really wide eyes, open my mouth as if to speak and then lie back down and go to sleep. I've also been told I talk and sing and hum in my sleep. I wonder what I say?

The Greatest Things

Sometimes, you can look at something you know very well, or at least think you know, and perceive it as something incredibly new and different. Take for instance a painting. I hated the Mona Lisa. I thought it was incredibly stupid and over-publicized. I went to France and actually saw it and realized there was something special about it. Something it's impossible to really capture in the millions of reproductions that have sprung up across the globe. And it's sad, really, that of the most important things that makes it so beautiful is the one of the many things a reproduction could never give to its viewers. And about another painting. Another over-publicized painting. One that I used to love. I used to love Van Gogh's Starry Night. But upon closer inspection, I see nothing incredibly special or notable about it. It capures absolutely none of the small subtle brushwork many of his other paintings have, and that mysterious dark shape that I always viewed as a dark faraway spire in the middle of the town came into sight as a nearby shrub. And that was one of the most disappointing things I've ever noticed about a painting, really. Why is it famous? Is it because we never really stop to look at things? This is by no means the fault of the artist, but why give recognition to one of the lesser pieces of his work? I don't understand and I don't find that I can. In attempting to capture scenes of the night, this is one of Van Gogh's few and greatest failures. Everything is clear. Everything is overemphasized. You can clearly see the houses and the village below and the only thing even somewhat remarklable is the way the moon falls on the village. The mystery and subtlety of the night are gone and upon looking at the painting again, I have to say, about a painting, I've never felt emptier.

Happiness?

I wonder what will make me happy. I'm currently content right now, but I mean like, lifelong happiness. Will I be happy once I'm independent? Or what about when I finally (will I ever? :) lose enough weight that I'm alright with my body? Do I need to start wearing makeup to improve my appearance? Would my appearance make me happy, really? Do I...Hmm. What if I started spending less time on the internet and more time on my schoolwork? I'm pretty sure if I felt smart, I'd feel a bit more happy. What else is there...Maybe a boyfriend...? (HAHAHAWHOWOULDDATEMEEVARAHAHAHHALOLOLOL)
...Um. Well. What if--I used to like myself. ...I think. What if I took up activities that I once loved? I think I should start reading more. And I need to be more honest with people. I need to admit I have no viewpoints on some things and and that there are some things I don't do and some things I don't know/ know about. I think that'll make me happier, even if I do come off as somewhat simple. It might even be a combination of all the things I've listed if it isn't all of them. So what are the main things then, hmm? I think maybe being more responsible is a big one, striving to know instead of "knowing", improving my social skills/status, improving my appearance, and being honest. I think part of it's also that I need to make others happy, I suppose, without turning into a doormat. I jump from extreme to extreme on that. Well, this was helpful, really. I wonder if I have the initiative to do all of these.