iBlog when iFrustrated

It's official. I'm a blogger. Now I can type out my infinitely long run-on sentences featuring numerous commas and near perfect spelling, talking about my oh so important life issues for all the cyberworld to read about and complain into my laptop about stuff that bothers me but don't awake enough courage in me to do anything about them in real life, in English which is not even my first language but whatever I'm OK at it plus nobody knows how to speak Turkish, right?

Whew. 

OK start over. 

This is my personal venting space. Which I started just now on a spontaneous impulse (can impulses EVER be not spontaneous? ...), when I need to be working on an assignment that was due.... yesterday. Procrastination at its best. I can't focus on studying, oh what should I do instead? Start a blog. Why, of course. 

I seem to be doing this a lot. Procrastinating, I mean. Almost to the point of acclaiming the title Queen of Procrastination. And run-on sentences. And sarcasm.

So this morning I got bullied by my housemates to pay for a $200 cable bill. I don't even watch TV anymore. My roommate also owes me 9 bucks and 50 cents. Wah, wah, my life sucks. OK but seriously, this girl who I don't even consider my friend because she's always bringing me down with her nasty comments, called me fat last night. I mean she has called me a 'bitch' for no reason before, but FAT! 

That is CROSSING THE LINE, MY FRIEND. So what did I do? I just smiled and turned my head. That stupid Christian saying (no offense, I only mean the saying is stupid not the religion itself ... well.... not in this blog entry anyway:p hah) that goes "turn the other cheek" when someone hurts you just got into a whole another level. I am such a coward that I only had things to say to her AFTER I came home and thought about it. Had a whole conversation with her in my head and everything, where I basically stick it to her. 

I'm really glad that frustration with people around me and unbelievable procrastination on this rainy morning has led me to finally get a blog. I've been meaning to get one, since I'm a Journalism student and well, the business seems to be moving in the cyber direction, hasn't it?

Man, I'm really going to miss paper in the future. Just the simple act of reading the newspaper, reading a book, the smell of paper and the feel of it. Libraries with rows and rows of book shelves. In the future we're probably going to have libraries the size of a small room with chips or USB's stacked up instead of books. That's so scary to think about, because books literally saved me in my childhood. Of what, you ask? Boredom, depression, misdirected energy and imagination, who knows. Now I don't have time to read books as much.... because I tweet about 3243234,45 times a day. Huh.

I have this plan of looking back on this blog 50 years later or something, so I want to write down things that will mean nothing in 50 years but are really funny to remember, like how we look back on the 80's and laugh about the ridiculous hair, music and wardrobe choices (80's music and movies rock, by the way). OK so here I go writing down things for my future self to read: Justin Bieber's a trend on Twitter every day. A 'trend' means a trending topic, remember, future self? And surely you remember Twitter, which by the time you're reading this, has probably disappeared into the void place where all the sites like Myspace and Facebook go to be forgotten. The automatic spellcheck (awesome, not that I need it anyway, I love correct spelling) on my Macbook underlined the word 'Facebook' which is funny, because I really do believe that there IS such a thing as a face book in real life now. 

You know how you can read the thoughts and emotions of a person by looking at their face? It should be called their facebook. I am not kidding.

The school assignment that I didn't do yet, which is my last one this year before my finals start, is an English 'journal' entry of 1000 words. I think I'll minor in English Lit because I love it so much, reading books and discussing them doesn't even feel like schoolwork to me. It's amazing we get credit for it! And my prof is hilarious and really smart. I begged and begged for my high school to let me take English Lit but they only had me take English as a Second Language since I was back in Turkey and, you know, didn't speak English as a First Language. Which is really unfair, because I think I would've done just fine in that class. They were studying William Blake and Shakespeare and Sylvia Plath, all these amazing amazing people I admire so much (I pretty much believe I am the reincarnated, new version of Sylvia Plath minus all the talent) and I was going crazy in my English As a Second Language class, where I could ace all the exams without even listening to one word in class.

I guess what happened as I was growing up is that I taught myself English, through the Internet, movies, Youtube, and American television. I watched 'Grease' and 'The Wizard of Oz' too many times as a kid that I got the American accent down. It's funny because now I can't even speak English in a Turkish accent. 

I think not only the language, but I immersed myself with all the culture that comes with the language, as well. Like, I knew what Pop tarts and PB&J sandwiches and Sadie Hawkins and "that's what she said" jokes meant, even though they weren't necessarily things that kids where I'm from knew about. (I'm from Istanbul- crazy multicultural, metropolitan city which makes me a city girl at heart.)

Where I'm at right now is, I moved from Istanbul, Turkey where I grew up to Toronto, Canada about 6 months ago. All by myself, attending Uni of Toronto for journalism (which was a random choice but at the same time, not so random because I always knew I wanted to do something to do with writing) And it's definitely been scary exciting, but routine at the same time. And the whole 'being by myself' thing is obviously very different from what I was used to, which is the main reason why I wanted to move half across the world in the first place.

I am actually not literally 'by myself' in my house, I live with 7 other girls- one right in my room! I originally thought getting a roommate would be fun, boy was I wrong! I'm the kind of person who spends a lot of time in their room because I'm a computer geek, and having to stay in a teeny tiny room with another person when you've had a big room all to yourself your whole life, is.... not fun. Not only her but her boyfriend lives with us as well. Talk about awkward- I have the same room as a couple who's bed is only like, 4 feet away from mine. Yeah. 

I have a sorority meeting in 2 hours- I am one of the 'founding mothers' (sounds cool eh?) of the first sorority at my campus. It's been a lot of hard work just getting down the policies, coat of arms, slogan, values, colours, rules, philantrophy, and so much more. But there's also the social side of things, where you need to socialize with all these different people which I'm not good at. I guess it's that I'm not necessarily the most lovable or charming person to be around, but I don't know how I could fix that, soo... I mean it's easy for me to be awkward because I guess I'm not one of those people who walks into a room and lights it up, immediately eases into conversation with everyone, etc. 

I used to (and still do) try to get my parents to admit I'm adopted, and they keep refusing but I swear I'm not like a single person in my family. Characteristically and physically. I guess part of me wants for me to be an adopted child because I think it's cool; it would be a good story line to write a book about. I mean that's the kind of exciting, dramatic stuff I need to get people to read my (future, non-existent) book, right? Nothing exciting has ever happened to me until I decided to move by myself all across the planet to Canada. The act of moving itself was exciting by theory but it's been pretty routine here ever since. 

I get to go back home for the summer in less than a month and I've got my birthday coming up in 12 days. it's my 19th birthday, which is a big deal in Canada. I'm also going to a 30 Seconds to Mars concert (I am crazy about this band- maybe this is another thing my future self will look back at and laugh about?) in 11 days, which is pretty exciting to think about.

I was playing soccer and Badminton with friends out in the crazy fog at 3 AM last night(today?), and a thought just hit me. 

With a memory as bad as mine, what would I do with myself if I didn't write down the moments that matter? It starts getting unhealthy when something remarkably out of the ordinary happens and you go "oh I should tweet about this" and reach for your Crackberry (I think I'm surgically attached to my Blackberry Bold), but every once in a while it's good to write down things that are mundane, and pointless. Because one day you could be famous and even the boring stuff you write is going to be read.

Hah, just kidding. The mundane, routine stuff matters because in 50 years from now I could be having a worse time, and reading back on this could potentially make me feel better/nostalgic. Maybe it would make me feel worse.

OK either way, if aliens land on Earth and want to inspect on human trail of thought, I could happily offer them this little blog of mine.

I need to get on that assignment and then get to my sorority meeting...sigh... so much to do and I'm too lazy to do anything except vent on my laptop all stinkin' day long. 

Peace out bruhs.