I have been thinking about two things, primarily. One is how I speak. I have a fairly calm voice - I hope? (isn't it so strange that the senses we use the most, we have no real understanding of), but I definitely chatterbox. I think I temper myself well, but what if I'm not? Yes, I'm literally the idiot sitting there wondering if my tone isn't subtle enough for sense.
Now there was no way I could know if I was correctly adhering to social customs. I didn't even know how to modulate my voice. Was I talking too loud? Did I look like a regular person? I understood that I was involved in a big contraption called civilization and that certain things were expected of me, but I could not comprehend what the hell those things might be.
All the words that came out of my mouth seemed equal. Instead of saying "reduce it about 90 percent," I could have said "two eggs and some toast, please." The whole world was broken down into elemental parts, each being of equal "value" to the whole - which is to say, of no value at all. - The Electric Kool Aid Acid Test
The other, infinitely more erudite, is this:
I think 26 is the turning point. I've got to make up for 10 years of living like a degenerate. I've suddenly become conscious of being unhealthy. You've spent every bit of free time since [the age of] 15 in a pub. And suddenly you're like, "Oh God, I don't want to be this grey ghost sitting there with a pot belly. I've got to get it together." — Robert Pattinson
Substitute in 25 and a complete lack of exercise or diet. I say diet because that feels like you're an adult who plans meals to have some proportions of content. I think I won't be an adult until the day I aim for a protein quotient to my dinner. I'm trying
- aka I walk (laugh at me!) and hike and avoid purchasing too many snacks. These are my accomplishments of 2012. But basically - I've got to get it together.
- forever. Rob and I know it.
What is my life? I've realized I don't know anyone anymore and as navel gazingly awkward as it feels to write this, I would read every/anyone's. So I'm 25. I'm in graduate school for at least three more years. I'm going through my second (read: 80th) academic transition! I'm really excited! My 2nd year/Masters' thesis is a longitudinal study of infant to toddler language development correlated to maternal speech patterns, specifically regarding guiding commands and repetitive language, as moderated by maternal affect. Also I did some things with language development in autism and Fragile X-linked autism which is fine, I guess? It's all alright? Which is a pleasant but sort of awkward way to feel about things. It's not what I wanted to do, but sometimes you just end up in things and stay there for experience. But my PhD thesis needs to feel like the reason I breathe, so I'm kind of
doing that wrt: neural electric pulses during language comprehension in schizophrenics. Which sounds bomb! Also my new adviser is really neat and has nice shoes all the time. She's a hero. So I'm stoked!
Ostensibly I'm writing that first thesis all summer, but my first adviser never calls me back soooooo I'm studying for preliminary exams, which is fantastic (not). Basically we need to read 300-odd papers, which is why I've split it in two with someone I like. We have cute color-coordinated binders and everything! This is real to me. Perpetual student, even though I think of myself as a borderline mediocre one.
The worst things happening right now are: I broke out two weeks ago in a way I haven't since high school. It's all gone now but I get hyperpigmentation; I really just can't be brown some days. Speaking of which, my tan lines are berserk. I need to topless this bitch, as my breasts are Snow White and my clavicles are Jasmine. I tried to become zen with my body and chill out about things and I gained 4 pounds, which is nothing but basically everything. I stopped watching most movies or television and I end up seeing things like Teen Wolf 5 days late, which is incidentally 5 days after I've watched the entire show through tumblr gifs. Tumblr gifs are the new Cliff's Notes. You can pretend to know everything so much faster now! These are no longer bad things. But! I am currently visiting my parents (Q1: is it still called visiting when it's your parents?) to have one of my last two dental appointments before my parents' double coverage expires (Q2: does the fact that I'm still on their insurance plans change the answer to Q1?) and. First of all, my parents get terribly lame snacks (see: failure to be an adult with real meals - the "if someone else bought it" loophole), but I managed to find a bag of brown sugar cinnamon poptarts. Which were actually strawberry poptarts in the wrong box. I mean... I'm not resentful that strawberry ones exist, but who does that. Answer: people who don't value sanctity of anything.
Oh also, I still have a dude who is still the nicest and still the most culturally inept, i.e. he knows things about government or whatever, but not Lindsay Lohan's current hair color. Which is useless, because it means all we can talk about (wrt: meaningful global events) are fantasy/sci-fi, Batman, and probably Anderson Cooper coming out. As it is, we've now officially passed four years in the long-distance phase of our relationship, which is hilarious. We're trying to get him moved, but the job market is #nowplaying Complicated - Avril Lavigne. Q3: it is
past borderline ridiculous to 5 or more years of a long-distance relationship, correct? I am trying to be loving and supportive to the maximum, which means I definitely don't phase into #nowplaying Why Don't You Get A Job - The Offspring. But like. Getting laid more than every month or two is incentive, no? And I'm sure at least one of those pounds went to my ass.