Random Channel Surfing

Being home sick means that I'm going through old journal entries and I've come to realize that Young!Marcela was even more socially awkward than I am now. (And that's saying something.) For one, I legit said "CTRL, ALT, DEL" to a guy after I did something thoroughly embarrassing in front of him. (I think I confessed to wanting to smooch his face off. In those words. To his adorable face.) At another time, this same guy and I were chatting about our social studies teacher in our English class. The windows were open and the wind kept blowing my hair around, but it was too hot in the room, so no one wanted to shut them. Anyway, I was telling him about how much I liked our social studies teacher when some dandelion fluff from outside blew straight into my nose. When I was standing right in front of him. It literally flew inside my left nostril, nestled itself in there, and I hid. Legit hid. From him. When we were having a conversation. As if he couldn't see me...

The big bad birthday is coming up. And I'm okay with it. It's unnerving. I remember dreading, hating, fearing my birthday. I didn't like the attention, the pressure of deciding who was invited and who wasn't. Then the added pressure of more responsibilities. Yeah. I like to worry. But now? I'm excited! I might not be where I'd planned on being; I might not have achieved the things I'd wanted. But I've learned to accept that life is unexpected, so I should celebrate whenever there is cause for it. And, to be honest, 26 isn't a scary age. I remember my oldest sister Cristiane was busy getting ready for her wedding when she was 26. She was hardly home, but she was still as fun-loving and immature at 26 as she was at 20. Pily, my middle sister, was in Italy getting her degree in interior architecture when she was 26. She did more partying at ages 26 and 27 than she did when she was in her teens. Now I'm not saying I'm go...

The only exception to this rule is Coconut Records' "West Coast". Guess I'm over a lot of things then, eh?

While going through my email, I saw a slew of emails from my former program advisor at school. She'd forwarded us some information on a contest for a novella. Now, I've said this millions of times before, but I'm a coward. Yellow livered. Rubber spined. Squeamish. The fear of rejection for something as sacred as my writing is terrifying. And I know. Okay? I know. Every single one of my professors warned us that we'd face rejection more times than we can count. They guaranteed it. And it's that certainty that cripples me. Why would I, a girl who for all intents and purposes avoids the very idea of confrontation, submit myself to rejection? It goes against my very character. But the braver, determined side of me is pissed off at my unwillingness. It's losing patience and has started pacing and glaring in my direction. I get it, Self. I get it. I should fucking woman up (HA!) and face my fears. Just because failure is certain, doesn't mean I should let fear di...

So, in my hurry to post on Muse, I forgot to mention that I've finally bought my ticket to Oz! :D Hahaha! Yep. I'm officially going to Australia with Tamara and Sean. It will be amaze-buckets. Une autre chose, le "gars" est en traîne de décider s'il va faire un voyage au Costa Rica, à l'Australie ou en Europe. Moi j'espère qu'il n'ira pas à l'Australie.

And I'm still not all that "wise." So what have I learned this past year in respect to the past, present, future, death, growth, my dreams and life in general? I've learned that I am even MORE romantic than I'd originally thought; that I dream big, but have my feet firmly on the ground; and that I spend more time reveling in the future and analyzing the past to really enjoy the present. My to-do list for the next year is to focus on the here and now. Enjoy being stuck in Deadmonton and keep my sights on Montreal. Sure, it won't be a while until I can move East, but I know I'll get there. As Paulo Coelho says in The Alchemist , "When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it." It's only a matter of being patient.

I feel liberated and I've never felt more exhilarated. Last night was the wake-up call I needed and I am now FREEEEEEEEEE.  I have made a conscious decision and not only am I sticking to it, but I'm confident that fear won't get in the way. Yay! For some odd reason, George Michael's Freedom is playing on repeat. Great celebratory song that sums up my elation (just the chorus part, though!) 

This was my FAVOURITE band growing up... Hahah! I'm so happy my musical tastes have changed but I must admit: I still feel the same jubilance I felt at age fourteen whenever I listen to this song. My friend Nicole and I never missed a concert or autograph signing... we loved Swollen Members like no one else. They played the Pawn Shop two weeks ago and it was the first Swollen show we missed. A small part of me wonders what it would have been like to be in the crowd. This blog post goes out to the Swollen Members... One of the few rap groups I ever liked.  What brings on this surge of wistfulness? My friend Brendan wrote to tell me that he bumped into MadChild at the Vancouver airport---he is now (quote) "old, fat, wears two watches and has all-Gucci luggage."  Ah, my youth...

... maybe. Today is my nephew's sixth birthday. He was so excited--opening presents, barging into the guest room that I'm occupying, to show them off. I took great pleasure in seeing his excited face. Why can't I feel that exhilaration whenever it's my birthday...? I miss the anticipation I used to feel for my birthday (and the one I once felt on the first day of school). New years made me excited... But now I'm full of dread over what this year will bring. I'm done school (...yay?), and I'm BROKE. Broke, educated and young.  Because of my youth (though I really DON'T feel young at all... I'm turning 23 in less than two months... *BARF*), I know that this year should be focused on growing up. I am way too immature for my own good--too shy, too stubborn, too prideful--and I know that with maturity, these not so stellar qualities will diminish (at least that's what I'm hoping). Therefore, I have decided that the best way to grow up is to go on ...