new cups

Today marks three weeks since my mom dropped me off at my first day of school, leaving me in the parking lot alone to swim through the murky waters of public education. I guess I'm a college kid now. Go figure.

The strange thing is that moving away from home does not feel utterly groundbreaking or revolutionary. I am not really freer or liberated or any such thing that newly minted independent adults may say they feel. I have my own room and that's pretty cool but I honestly don't spend that much time here. Apart from the sleeping and watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer in bed.

It's made me wonder all of the things that I was already wondering to a greater degree. Like, what is the point of life? I mean, that's a big question, and it's not like it really matters. Well, okay, saying it doesn't matter is, in itself, a pretty nihilistic take on things but whatever. I don't really subscribe to any sort of "greater, all powerful" entity, and the idea of there being an overarching point to the universe's existence doesn't really jive with me. I guess when I wonder if there's a point, what I'm really wondering is what is my point. What am I going to do. How should I focus and organize my life.

School is kind of depressing that way. Or maybe it's just the social sciences. Sociology and Women's Studies are continually pointing out all these institutions and how they're designed to oppress us and it's so bleak. Then there's the blatantly exploitative capitalist system that's so hard to not see once you have even the slightest grasp on how it operates.

When I started to write this, I typed the title in first, 'new cups.' I wanted to talk about getting accustomed to using a new set of mugs in my new house, picking out favourites and figuring out the merits and drawbacks of each. Yet here we are with existentialism. I can't escape it.

I'm still teasing it out, I suppose. Trying out all the mugs. Deciding which ones fit best in my hand. Testing the waters of different points to life, different ways of organizing living, and deciding which sits best with me. And maybe the point is that process of evaluating and reevaluating. Or maybe I'm nowhere close to it.

We'll have to wait and see.

fontal punishment

Sometimes I desert my blog for months and then when I go back to check on it everything is in COMIC SANS. -gasp- I know. The world is a scary place.

Needless to say, I have learned my lesson. So...

I'm back!!!!1!!!1! -jazz hands-

I just remembered the fact that, when I write blogs, I'm mainly just talking to myself and posting it on the internet and then when I find out that people have read it (usually in the form of me trying to tell someone something and them being like, "Yeah, Alex, I know. I read it on your blog") it makes me feel really weird and then I don't post anything for months. I think that's ironic but I STILL DON'T KNOW.

-sigh- I am a really weird blogger. And general human being person.

Today was also weird. I bought some pens and then I sat in a coffee shop for a couple hours thinking about what I'd be doing with my life in a year. And then for the rest of my life. Then I went to the library to look for books on human sexuality, which I intend to write a paper about! Yay college!

This is not interesting. Yet I know that someone will probably read it. Mostly because this blog is probably still Rachel's homepage. Unless she gave up on me. Wait, it's her homepage on her account on my computer, which I now have, eight hours away from her. Maybe no one will read this. -maniacal laughter-

How many years later...?... and I still have no idea how to blog...

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#can't be tamed