Cuba, Si !

Gals on stilts Havana, originally uploaded by c.e.s..

Even though we had a "no presents" rule in effect for Christmas in Cuba, Mom & Dad presented Ben & me with digital cameras before we left Montreal on the 22nd.

Bueno Año, mis amores.

Don't Criticize What You Can't Understand

When I was in grade 10, me & some pals got picked up by the cops for drinking beer in an abandoned house. It was a small town, and there were no real repercussions but I will never forget that night. I was way more afraid of my parents' reaction than I was of the five-o. My mom's biggest worry was that I looked like a slut, as I had been taken into the station with 3 guys. (there were other girls with us, but they got away - that fact was irrelevant, I mean my god, what would people think!?!?).

When those same parents found out I have tickets to go see Willie Nelson, my dad said "I didn't even know you liked Willie Nelson!!!" That statement stabbed me in the heart.

I have been experiencing malaise with regards to school. It's no secret. I talk to my parents about it on a regular basis. Since I re-started academia last year, I have had three different majors. I haven't felt like I am on the right path. I don't feel particularly motivated in the field that I have chosen. It's causing me angst.

Tonight I told my parents I'm doing a 180. I'm switching it up again. Fuck the third world (not really), I'm getting a degree in psychology. My mom was cold and critical; I could hear it in her silence. "I don't know what to say" she said. "You look like a flit-ass" she said. "I thought you had a calling" she said.

Yes, I look like a flit-ass. I am not sure how the fact that I am a flit-ass has escaped my mother's notice in the past 31 years. It's not news. It's not something I look like. It's reality.

A calling? I have been completely up front with the rents that I actually do not feel like I have a calling. When they press me about what I want out of my current field of study, I can't answer them. WHY. ARE. THEY. NOT. PAYING. ATTENTION.

I realize I have just wasted 2 years at school doing something I no longer intend to pursue. That's a lot of money. I know it, and it sucks. But the point is, all the flitting may have finally led me to a calling, and all she is concerned about is the fact that I look flakey.

I asked her if she thought it made more sense to finish a degree I don't care about, or to pursue a degree that interests me endlessly. After another measured silence, she said "I just don't understand."

No mother, you don't. And I realize that part of the reason you don't is because you don't know all the ins and outs of my mind. And it pains me to say that the reason you don't know those parts of my mind is because I keep them hidden from you. And I am also very sorry to say that the reason I keep them hidden from you is because I cannot STAND the judgment that is brought down upon my honesty.

I don't like the thought of being defined by my job... of "being something". I already am something. I don't have any particular desire to have my self-worth validated by good grades, or appearances, or my "career". I put enough pressure on myself, I don't respond well when it comes from other sources. I embrace my experiences - all of them. Good ones, bad ones, crazy ones, painful ones, loving ones and everything in between. I am not concerned if people are going to "think I am a flit-ass". Let them think it. I am much more concerned with things that carry weight. I'm living my life for me, and not for what other people have decided I should be doing. There are bumps in the road and that's what keeps the journey interesting.

I hope this doesn't ruin Christmas.

chillpill, originally uploaded by c.e.s..

Sweet & Lowdown

Spending some time in my "other life", with school coming in a distant second last week, opened my eyes wide to some things like responsibility and purpose. I am full of hot air a lot of the time - "i'll do this" "i'll stop doing that". I'll turn into the boy who cried wolf before long if i don't start to make good on some of the shit that comes out of my mouth.

So once my wingman headed back to the country for some solitude, i decided i should invest some of myself into my education. It's crunch time at ye olde university, and i have to get to it if i want to salvage this semseter. Some things could already be too far gone to pull out of the pit, but after getting some marks back it has become clear that i can succeed with a little effort. So i'm putting a little effort in.

Tomorrow night is the ASS staff party - touted to be a big event, with lots of drinking on the shuttle bus, and dancing at Kokomo's... i have a ticket, but am not going to use it. Sunday night is a family do chez my parents, but i am going to have to pass. I will be spending the entire weekend reading & writing in two languages, for two major events that take place monday: a term paper and an exam. I am prepared for neither. Miracles had best ensue.

Going out is fun. I miss it. Hopefully it will happen with a bit more frequency.

Clarity has presented itself to me in an amazing form. I was worried last week, about my brain being a little too close to the edge - but something cool has happened to me as a result of all the dark times of the past 16 months. I don't want to be on the edge. It's a strange thing, kind of like drugs... appealing despite its destructive properties - my mind enjoys the "other" way it thinks but it makes me crazy, and if i go crazy again i don't think i would survive. This knowledge has armed me with the ability to prevent disaster. It's amazing. When I felt shakey and started to slide, i put a stop to it, pulled my socks up and started to get on with shit. I am not explaining this very well, but suffice it to say that some kind of strength i have been practically desperate to find has actually been found.

Oh yeah, and i got a ticket to Willie Nelson.