The holidays and law school applications have filled the past few months with little sleep but plenty of rewarding catch-up sessions with family and friends.
My favorite part of the holidays, aside from seeing so many loved ones, is the general mood of people. Everyone, except douches and grinches, seems to be kinder and a little more open to wonder. Put on a little Nat King Cole and go sniff some cinnamon sticks. Or have some baked goods and watch the mid-season finale of your favorite show. If that doesn't put you in a better mood, I don't know what will.
With Christmas and Hanukkah right around the corner and the new year rapidly approaching, my mind is brewing with resolutions. Maybe I'll finally finish my novel. Or get back to high school track shape (hello, six pack!). There's always that language I've been meaning to learn. Too many broad resolutions are abandoned quickly after the ball drops at midnight. This year, I'd be happy just to be filled with wonder throughout the year. If I could learn more patience and accomplish my goals quickly and with purpose, I'd be content. I'm too old to sit on a skeevy mall Santa's lap, but I'd do pretty much anything for those resolutions to come true. Is that too much to ask, Santa?
-Cybil
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Dun Dun Dun - Cue Horns!
I am finished with the LSAT! THANK GOD! A torturous test than no mortal should have to take more than once, the LSAT is a mind fuck that has dominated my life for the past few months. I slumped over test books at all hours of the day and am finally free from the exam's grasp. Again, THANK GOD!
Now, I need to finish applications and figure out how to spend my free time once more.
Recent discoveries since obtaining freedom:
- Boardwalk Empire
- Cooking
- Sleep
Ah, to be alive again. Enjoy your freedom, people!
Now, I need to finish applications and figure out how to spend my free time once more.
Recent discoveries since obtaining freedom:
- Boardwalk Empire
- Cooking
- Sleep
Ah, to be alive again. Enjoy your freedom, people!
Monday, August 8, 2011
Shake That Shit
When you're feeling low and in need of a pick me up, don't turn to facebook stalking or manic depression. Put on your favorite dance number and shake it! Sway off the pain and move to good vibes.
If I have to listen to one more depressing story or see one more example of wasted talent, I am going to pop. I'll spontaneously combust in the middle of a crowded street and my flesh will land on tourists like snow flakes falling in the wind. They'll think it was the heat or perhaps HGH, but in reality it was shear frustration.
Last night I watched part of a History Channel episode about how America progressed prior to the twentieth century. First up were stories of how the Statue of Liberty and other humongous buildings in New York were made. Men would work and walk on beams forty stories in the air and pray that a sudden blast of wind wouldn't send them to their deaths. They weren't thinking, "Oh my god, if I don't have thousands of facebook friends, how will I survive?!?"
The other segment of the episode highlighted how industrialists and innovators like Andrew Carnegie made their way in America. Thomas Edison worked painstakingly to create his many inventions that changed the world forever. He wasn't wasting his time and filling his mind with garbage. He was using his brain, an act that people seem to be doing less and less of.
With such little time on this earth, shouldn't we all be using it well?
If I have to listen to one more depressing story or see one more example of wasted talent, I am going to pop. I'll spontaneously combust in the middle of a crowded street and my flesh will land on tourists like snow flakes falling in the wind. They'll think it was the heat or perhaps HGH, but in reality it was shear frustration.
Last night I watched part of a History Channel episode about how America progressed prior to the twentieth century. First up were stories of how the Statue of Liberty and other humongous buildings in New York were made. Men would work and walk on beams forty stories in the air and pray that a sudden blast of wind wouldn't send them to their deaths. They weren't thinking, "Oh my god, if I don't have thousands of facebook friends, how will I survive?!?"
The other segment of the episode highlighted how industrialists and innovators like Andrew Carnegie made their way in America. Thomas Edison worked painstakingly to create his many inventions that changed the world forever. He wasn't wasting his time and filling his mind with garbage. He was using his brain, an act that people seem to be doing less and less of.
With such little time on this earth, shouldn't we all be using it well?
Monday, July 25, 2011
Affliction
Hola, mis amigos! Sorry for detaching from the blogosphere for a while. I should really apologize to my brain for getting hooked on shameful ABC sitcoms and watching the latest, and ever crazy season of "Weeds." I digress. It's good to be back!
The month of July has been fairly horrible for myself and the rest of the world. Starving masses in Africa, slaying of innocents in Norway, and the United States debt ceiling ordeal are only a few of the colossal failures of the world as of late. Take my word for it, don't do what I foolishly did and watch the news, "Another Earth," and discuss mortality over a weekend. Hot weekends should be reserved for detoxing and cooling down, not hyperventilating and chocolate amped anxiety binges.
After listening to The Cinematic Orchestra's "To Build a Home" on repeat for a while and slipping into an emotional episode, I took a walk. Being outdoors and losing oneself in scenery can instill a sense of clarity. I thought about all of the troubles in my life and how they are so profoundly minute in comparison to the world's. Sometimes I get so lost with follies that I lose track of the important. I'd like to help people and contribute something to the world. One day at a time, I will give something to people. Whether it be a big or small act, I'd like to give something to my home. Too often people are unkind and think that others' problems are not their own. Actual problems generally affect more than one person and need extra help to be triumphed over. The greatest problem plaguing the world is apathy.
The month of July has been fairly horrible for myself and the rest of the world. Starving masses in Africa, slaying of innocents in Norway, and the United States debt ceiling ordeal are only a few of the colossal failures of the world as of late. Take my word for it, don't do what I foolishly did and watch the news, "Another Earth," and discuss mortality over a weekend. Hot weekends should be reserved for detoxing and cooling down, not hyperventilating and chocolate amped anxiety binges.
After listening to The Cinematic Orchestra's "To Build a Home" on repeat for a while and slipping into an emotional episode, I took a walk. Being outdoors and losing oneself in scenery can instill a sense of clarity. I thought about all of the troubles in my life and how they are so profoundly minute in comparison to the world's. Sometimes I get so lost with follies that I lose track of the important. I'd like to help people and contribute something to the world. One day at a time, I will give something to people. Whether it be a big or small act, I'd like to give something to my home. Too often people are unkind and think that others' problems are not their own. Actual problems generally affect more than one person and need extra help to be triumphed over. The greatest problem plaguing the world is apathy.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
The Waiting
Caffeine wasn't that fun to kick, but I've been off the smack for about two weeks now. Countless headaches and bouts of withdrawal later, I'm sober.
Working out and having a desire to exercise wasn't that difficult to acquire. The gym was my home away from home for a few precious visits.
And then my health took a sudden turn for the worse. My simple goals became insignificant and I wound up in the hospital for mysterious pains.
The past few days seemed never ending and were filled with waiting and listening.
Monday at around five in the morning, the pains still wouldn't cease after over two days. An absurd fifteen hour visit to a dysfunctional city hospital left me with few clues and more premature wrinkles than I care to share. At this hospital, aside from waiting around, receiving multiple tests, and being introduced to a haze of halfhearted staff members, I witnessed some of the many highs and lows of the ER.
The first low was listening as a guy threw up what sounded to be everything from his body, organs and all. He moaned and sighed every few minutes in agony as the spew kept coming. Another patient busily berated any hospital worker to come in contact with her, complaining of sub par care and screaming when she wasn't wheeled down a hallway with her mother.
Laughing about this crazy woman and another highly inebriated woman were the high points of the visit. At least the drunkard made jokes. She croaked to one doctor, "Why you white?" To which the doctor replied, "That's just the way they made me." Aside from the kisses the lush bestowed on an EMT worker, her best line of the evening was "Why all you white people? This looks like the KKK up in here."
By far the worst experience came after sharing jokes with a man complaining of chest pains and shortness of breath. We were partners in sarcastic misery, talking and laughing along with our significant others about how poor the hospital care was thus far. After more of his test results came back, this man was told that he most likely has lymphoma and will need to seek treatment for cancer immediately. Through a thin curtain, I heard this man swallow deeply as he heard the news. I heard him cry with his wife as he held her in his arms and told her. All of their sorrow and disbelief was on display for the whole room. I ached for this man, his beautiful wife, and their toddler. I wanted to reach out and hold them or offer anything I could. Their sadness seeped through me.
After spending so many hours in the city hospital, any treatment from a beautiful suburban hospital would have been endlessly better. Alas, I didn't receive any definitive results. My ailments could be many things, though one specific mark was picked up during my tests.
My visits will only lead to more unfortunately. And in the words of Tom Petty, "the waiting is the hardest part..."
Working out and having a desire to exercise wasn't that difficult to acquire. The gym was my home away from home for a few precious visits.
And then my health took a sudden turn for the worse. My simple goals became insignificant and I wound up in the hospital for mysterious pains.
The past few days seemed never ending and were filled with waiting and listening.
Monday at around five in the morning, the pains still wouldn't cease after over two days. An absurd fifteen hour visit to a dysfunctional city hospital left me with few clues and more premature wrinkles than I care to share. At this hospital, aside from waiting around, receiving multiple tests, and being introduced to a haze of halfhearted staff members, I witnessed some of the many highs and lows of the ER.
The first low was listening as a guy threw up what sounded to be everything from his body, organs and all. He moaned and sighed every few minutes in agony as the spew kept coming. Another patient busily berated any hospital worker to come in contact with her, complaining of sub par care and screaming when she wasn't wheeled down a hallway with her mother.
Laughing about this crazy woman and another highly inebriated woman were the high points of the visit. At least the drunkard made jokes. She croaked to one doctor, "Why you white?" To which the doctor replied, "That's just the way they made me." Aside from the kisses the lush bestowed on an EMT worker, her best line of the evening was "Why all you white people? This looks like the KKK up in here."
By far the worst experience came after sharing jokes with a man complaining of chest pains and shortness of breath. We were partners in sarcastic misery, talking and laughing along with our significant others about how poor the hospital care was thus far. After more of his test results came back, this man was told that he most likely has lymphoma and will need to seek treatment for cancer immediately. Through a thin curtain, I heard this man swallow deeply as he heard the news. I heard him cry with his wife as he held her in his arms and told her. All of their sorrow and disbelief was on display for the whole room. I ached for this man, his beautiful wife, and their toddler. I wanted to reach out and hold them or offer anything I could. Their sadness seeped through me.
After spending so many hours in the city hospital, any treatment from a beautiful suburban hospital would have been endlessly better. Alas, I didn't receive any definitive results. My ailments could be many things, though one specific mark was picked up during my tests.
My visits will only lead to more unfortunately. And in the words of Tom Petty, "the waiting is the hardest part..."
Friday, June 3, 2011
The World Didn't End...Life Goes On
Well, the world is still here, or so I think...
Two geezers, one with purple patterned pants and another with kaleidoscope glasses, sat next to me at lunch the other day and discussed the universe in great detail. While gobbling down french fries and telling hemorrhoid tales, Mr. Purple Pants said that in order for anything to be real, we have to acknowledge its existence. Betty Davis Eyes was skeptical. Why does acknowledgment matter? What if none of this is real? Personally, I'm down with PP and applaud him for his brazen fashion choices.
Since Harold Camping's prediction was proven false (Score one for Earth!) I've been doing a lot of self-reflection. I'm not talking minuscule pondering like debating what to eat for lunch. I'm talking what the hell am I doing with my life. One career path or another? Stay put or move on? You get the idea.
After having a few extremely differing options in life paths last year, this year's stagnancy has thrown my brain into a blender. The only things I can think of lately are what I can control: my heinous addiction to caffeine and getting more exercise. I'm on day four of life without caffeine and am peering through blurred eyes while writing this. I joined a new gym too, so that's a step.
If the lack of caffeine is affecting this blog, my apologies. My brain is a putrid puree this evening. Anywho, life is the question on what's left of my mind. What to do...
Two geezers, one with purple patterned pants and another with kaleidoscope glasses, sat next to me at lunch the other day and discussed the universe in great detail. While gobbling down french fries and telling hemorrhoid tales, Mr. Purple Pants said that in order for anything to be real, we have to acknowledge its existence. Betty Davis Eyes was skeptical. Why does acknowledgment matter? What if none of this is real? Personally, I'm down with PP and applaud him for his brazen fashion choices.
Since Harold Camping's prediction was proven false (Score one for Earth!) I've been doing a lot of self-reflection. I'm not talking minuscule pondering like debating what to eat for lunch. I'm talking what the hell am I doing with my life. One career path or another? Stay put or move on? You get the idea.
After having a few extremely differing options in life paths last year, this year's stagnancy has thrown my brain into a blender. The only things I can think of lately are what I can control: my heinous addiction to caffeine and getting more exercise. I'm on day four of life without caffeine and am peering through blurred eyes while writing this. I joined a new gym too, so that's a step.
If the lack of caffeine is affecting this blog, my apologies. My brain is a putrid puree this evening. Anywho, life is the question on what's left of my mind. What to do...
Friday, May 20, 2011
Here's to You, Earth
Tomorrow may be it. Or maybe not. But what if?
What if Harold Camping is right? What if the rapture does come on May 21 and five months later we all bid farewell to Earth? What if this is it?
The simple fact is, no one knows what tomorrow holds. Or the next day, or the following, or further and further on in time. Believe what you will, but this is an unshakable truth.
Faith is an iridescent spinning web of possibilities and uncertainties. However, no matter the practice or denomination, some of its pivotal lessons impart teachings of goodness and the acquisition of knowledge.
As a child, my favorite part of attending mass was interacting with fellow parishioners by spreading peace amongst each other. Either with a friendly handshake, a familial hug, or a loving kiss, wishing peace to those around you always left me with a good feeling.
I can't say what tomorrow will bring, but I know that I will do at least one thing that my religion of birth taught me. I will be spreading peace and I hope you will too.
What if Harold Camping is right? What if the rapture does come on May 21 and five months later we all bid farewell to Earth? What if this is it?
The simple fact is, no one knows what tomorrow holds. Or the next day, or the following, or further and further on in time. Believe what you will, but this is an unshakable truth.
Faith is an iridescent spinning web of possibilities and uncertainties. However, no matter the practice or denomination, some of its pivotal lessons impart teachings of goodness and the acquisition of knowledge.
As a child, my favorite part of attending mass was interacting with fellow parishioners by spreading peace amongst each other. Either with a friendly handshake, a familial hug, or a loving kiss, wishing peace to those around you always left me with a good feeling.
I can't say what tomorrow will bring, but I know that I will do at least one thing that my religion of birth taught me. I will be spreading peace and I hope you will too.
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