It's a chilly one tonight, as is my Budweiser. Been home for about an hour, since my arrival, I have done nothing but shower and chug back a few beers. Sometimes I think to my self. 'Is it bad, I come home and one of my priorities is to have a cold one?' 'Am I going to far, by having a few drinks by my self.' However sip by sip, I relentlessly put all the negativity to disposal. This is life, not TV. I mean, if I really had a problem, for one, I would have not bought beer. It would be a major error in the ways of a 'true' alcy. To be honest I haven't even touched my petite baggy of sub-china greenery. Not now, not yet. Soon. Oddly enough, its one of the only substances in the world, where a user can sit with it in front of them, and actually wait for use, in the hopes they wont waste a trip contrary to crack, which doesnt last 5 minutes in the hands of its user. But enough about the substance abuse.
Well today would be the conclusion of my 'first week' of school (considering how slack frosh week was). If there is one thing for certain, it's the morale I have for school. I can't even imagine my self in high school, let alone grade school, yet my mother would assure you I did a 180 and rocketed 100 feet in the air. But eh, now I'm just another student, no special treatment, fair game all around.
I feel as if the characters I meet in my classes are a mysterious bunch. I am use to predicting peoples habits or attitudes, yet this journalism crowd, they are a hard bunch, or at least some of them. I often find my self questioning other peoples knowledge or at least observing how ignorant they are. Usually a few sentences is all it takes, yet once again, these are a mysterious bunch. When questions are asked in class, it is rare to hear a voice, at least when we aren't talking about shenanigans and pot. But is that possibly better? I mean they are journalists students, they should be listening not talking...right?
If there is one thing I feel like I have come to grounds with, is the category of journalism some of the students are attempting to get into. The first and most obvious, is the sports guys, the ones who want to be on TSN and will watch every reply in full attentiveness. Which is I suppose on its own, a real career. However, the thought of following a puck/ball/pigskin or whatever it is and having to remember hundreds of redundant names and numbers, many of which will disappear with in a few years of play in a serious league. It takes more than balls and men in shorts to get me in the mood to write a 'good' story. However, in case a truly human element falls in to play, like an unlikely duo doing something for the good a community, maybe just maybe I can cut and form into something print worthy. But as I was alluding to, I am more of a bullets flew, secret endorsement exposed, revolutionary 'gang'( I know, super hypocritical, but its how they will be displayed regardless of my opinion) threatens to hijack peaceful protest, kind of journalist.
Of course there is the caked up dames ready for the tv, if only they knew how to speak. But kudos to them, they've made it this far, who knows maybe one day the will be a colleague of mine.
But then there is the truly down to earth people like my self. Some outspoken- some quiet as hell, and with reason. I too would be full of anxiety and and enormously shy, if it weren't for the luxury of meeting someone so like my self during orientation. I must confess, I molded into the college scene easily. Which I can credit to my new attitude for introducing my self professionally to everyone (which I will have to do one day.) I am the anxiety type, under the right conditions. However as of late, I have felt obligated to preparing my self for possible awkward situations with others.
Which is very easy to do, when you are stoned off your tree in a college environment. I must admit, after years of indulging the herb, I have mastered decieving those around me, that I am just as level as everyone else (taking in the consideration that the counterpart is not as big of user as of my self.) Some may call me silly, some may say I should prioritize. However I feel it is an excellent way to mend your mind to dealing with difficult human interactions.
I desire more nights like this, crisp clean air, whisked by the wind, helplessly finding its self in your breathing path. Sure it's cold, but I have a redundant amount of sweaters amassed in my closet and god knows how high the heap of toques and winters hats truly is. One thing I notice since the void of working in a warehouse. Is my appetite for music has came back. As saddening as it is to say, I have departed deeply from my rhythmic pass. I feel as if I have listened to it all, which is certainly not true, which is why I find my self, looking for new music, but music that relates to what I have listened and enjoyed in the past.
I guess I will have to invest in an mp3, for these next few months need a soundtrack indefinitely.
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