Monthly Archives: September 2014

Pronouns- My attempt to study.

Unsurprisingly, my motivation to study for my first exam of my graduate career is weak, very weak.

Subject material + a cold = I write blog post.

What do I write about?

GRAMMAR!!

Did you know that there are at least eight subcategories of pronouns?

There are personal pronouns, demonstrative pronouns, relative pronouns, interrogative pronouns, universal/indefinite pronouns, reciprocal pronouns, and reflexive pronouns.

(If you thought I was actually going to attempt to amuse you with blog writing, ha…:(.)

Personal pronouns are those lovely little things that you use all the time, when talking about people…I think…Something like that.

Demonstrative pronouns are those that….Uh…Demonstrate something?

Relative pronouns…relate things?

I’m going to fail my test.

Grah.

[I -personal pronoun-like tea. It -relative pronoun- is my favorite drink. Some-a determiner for the noun people- people think that tea isn’t great. These -determiner…- people are wrong. Who-interrogative-are these people you ask? They – relative?- are nobodies -indefinite-..]

I don’t wanna study.

I need to.

Nooowoowowowowowowowowow.

Well, time to go test myself with random online quizzes I find.

Go appreciate the fact that you aren’t studying the different pronoun types. Enjoy your freedom.

-me

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He can’t be a musician…

It happened.

I went to open mic night, and a guy sang some songs, and then I thought about how I definitely wanted to go talk to him, strike up a friendship, a kind conversation, not fall in love with him, but be his friend and have a cool guy to sing songs with.

I mean, he seemed like he was at my level. Like, I wasn’t intimidated by his awesome music skill, because, he was great, but he forgot the lyrics to a song he just wrote, so it made him seem approachable to me. Forgetting lyrics is something I do easily.

So I went up to sing my songs, a while after he sang his songs, and I brutally massacred my music, I’m pretty sure my uke was out of tune, and then I went and sat down and wondered about when I would have the courage to go talk to the guitarist who messed up, like me, earlier.

I glanced at him, he glanced at me and then he looked away. I looked away. I thought over my strategy. I will go speak to him once this artist finishes…Or maybe once open mic night ends…Or maybe if he gets up to go buy coffee or something, and I’ll just casually stroll over and tell him what a great job he did, and ask him if he wants to jam sometime

I looked over at him again, he was staring at the floor.

I went back to watching the artist who was performing. I’ll talk to him later…before he leaves. I thought.

Suddenly I noticed something very strange in the corner of my eye. A tall figure was standing up and pulling over a chair right next to me, and sitting down as naturally as if though we had actually had one of the conversations that was running through my mind four minutes ago. He watched the guitarist performing, and then he turned toward me.

“That’s some pretty cool guitar playing.”

“Yes, it is, very talented.”

“Do you think he’s really out of it right now, or just pretending?”

“I don’t know, but he forgot my name earlier, so I think he’s probably…out of it.”

“Yeah…By the way, I’m Josh.”

The guitarist I had been contemplating talking to for the last five minutes was sitting next to me, and chatting with me, like a completely normal human being.

I don’t know what happened.

It got stranger. I introduced myself, my sister introduced herself, and her friend introduced herself (and soon left), and Josh talked to us all, in a genial, non-suspicious manner, contrary to many of my interactions with former musicians.

Then my sister started saying things, “Hey, I think you should know, I mean, I don’t mean to be strange or anything, but I really have to tell you, you are very attractive.” I shook my head and cast my eyes downward, casting disapproving looks at my sister, and surveying glances at Josh. “I mean, your face is like, perfectly symmetrical, and your eyes are beautiful, I mean, you are classically handsome. I mean, isn’t he?” she added, staring at me as she waited for my agreement “Uh…”

Luckily, Josh responded first, “Yeah, uh…actually, it’s okay, I get that a lot.” I stared at him in astonishment, “Really? People just go up to you and tell you you’re attractive?” I asked.

Josh responded, “Yeah…I mean, it doesn’t go to my head or anything.”

Me: “Uh huh.”

So, here is blue-eyed, blonde-haired, perfectly symmetrically faced guitarist-musician-model, who apparently knows how good he looks, sitting to my left, and my sister telling him he’s beautiful and asking me for my opinion on the issue on my right, and me between them pondering how I am ever going to have a normal friendship with anyone ever.

Oh Josh. We spent the next hour chatting about music and work and school and open mic nights, and being more or less normal. Then he somehow said that he thought I was older than my sister, and he found out how old my sister was and was astonished, and then he mentioned his age, and I’m five years older than him. Then he continued chatting with us until we all decided it was too late, and we walked to our cars.

I’ve concluded from this that I have to revise my theory that all musicians are super serious, mysterious, and brooding guys, apparently it doesn’t apply to teenagers.

Also, I am never going to wind up with a musician. They are either super serious, brooding artists, or completely friendly and attractive guys who are too young for me.

Also, sometimes when you’re staring at someone and thinking about talking to them, they’re thinking about the exact same thing.

The last point is my favorite. Maybe I’ll dwell on that for a while instead of on how I’m super old and will be alone forever.

-cdukulele

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Dating Paradox

I only like guys up to the moment where they like me back.

This might explain why I fail so much at relationships.

Maybe I’m wrong.

I mean, I definitely like guys who like me, but only to a point.

Then I start to freak out about how much they may potentially like me, and I avoid them entirely.

Or maybe no guy I’ve ever really liked has liked me back.

Possible.

Anyway, that was my new personal reflection that I figured I’d throw out there, since I finished my paper that was due tonight, and now I just have to do the rest of my homework for all my classes that’s do tomorrow.

Also, musicians seem to be in an entirely different class of men than the ones I meet on a daily basis.

It’s like, the musician guys act all silent and brooding and attractive, while the guys I meet on a daily basis are just, nice, chill, friendly guys.

And for some reason I keep getting attracted to the brooding mysterious guys.

Which is bad, because the mysterious ones are the ones who are inaccessible, versus the daily basis guys who just act like normal human beings, without a circle of drama around their lives.

I don’t know.

Anyway, enjoy the rest of your evening.

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Five minutes to

SEPTEMBER 17!!!!!

Is it weird that I kind of feel like somehow marking this day? Not really celebrating…but…doing something?

It’s two years since Neurosurgery.

Two years since my senior year of college started without me.

So I kind of feel like something should be happening. Like I should make it special. Like something special should happen.

But that’s weird.

Alcoholics and Addicts have their Clean day.

Almost everyone celebrates their birthday.

Anniversaries.

Memories.

…and I have two years since doctors cut into the back of my skull so that I wouldn’t be like a time bomb waiting for my spinal fluid to pop from the pressure. I think that’s why I had the surgery. I dunno. Time and words make my description of it more colorful, while my memory of it grows weaker.

Or perhaps I shouldn’t live in the past.

Or I should simply see how I’ve grown.

The seeing how I’ve grown part is what I want to do.

…neck brace free.

Nearly normal.

Normal in almost all appearances.

I don’t know.

And now it’s September 17th.

Happy Anniversary Catherine, you’re not paralyzed.

-me

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I should sooooo be asleep right now…

Good morning.

I had a great Monday.

A very musical Monday.

A happy Monday.

And now I’m exhausted and I have homework do in the next forty-eight hours, and I very much need sleep.

But, I was trying to do schoolwork and only half succeeding, so I wanted to do a little update here before I went to sleep.

Yes.

Update: Someone asked me to join a ukulele club that they started up, we met for the second time today, and it was lovely. There were six of us, and lots of interested people.

After Ukulele club, I went to my second open mic night at this random bar, and they applauded and cheered and one lady asked me if I had a business card because she wanted to tell a local show manager about me, to get me set up with a show or something.

(The first ukulele club meeting and my first open mic night at that same random bar were last week, and they went well too, but this week…I haven’t been distracted by little things like emotional break downs, so I can appreciate the happy times better.)

It was good.

Monday was a good day.

Now…it’s Tuesday. Early morning Tuesday. Day of Graduate classes. Day of running to the library to frantically print out whatever I think I need for my last class. Wednesday I have part of a project due that involves a three to four page paper, Thursday is another day of classes, and Thursday night is another open mic night…Another chance to play music.

I just have to get through three days, then I get to play more music.

But first, I have to sleep.

I am so tired that I keep wanting to type random things that are even less connected than the sentences I already have been typing.

Goodnight.

-Cdukulele

🙂

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Clarification

I’m going to try to make this work on two levels: personal clarification and clarification for you, the second one first.

For You:

1. While my last several posts have been about my general “patheticness” and “lostness”, and I just want to apologize if I have bored/annoyed you with my constant complaints. That being said, I will not stop complaining, because troubling things happen in all of our lives, and this is my “super secret blog of complaints”. I might incidentally stop complaining, because happy stuff may happen to me, and I might try to dwell on that, and in fact, happy things do often happen to me, it’s just when I’m overwhelmed I have to write about the sad stuff to get it out of my system so that I can go about the real world as my cheery, normal self.

 

For Me:

2. Hello Catherine,

I know, you’re sitting here thinking, “why am I such an idiot who posts her secret most innermost pathetic thoughts on the internet, revealing my weaknesses to any stranger who happens to pass by, and leaving myself totally open to the harshness of the world, with my only protection being the fact that I’m going under an assumed name and this blog exists somewhere in the great wide reaches of the internet where the odds of anyone I actually know finding it and making the connection between it and me are very low?” and that is a very good thought to have, but I want to remind you of why: because you are hoping that your super-emotional ramblings connect with someone else who is super emotionally burdened, and they recognize your pain and your words somehow help them, or they recognize the pain and your words somehow help them. Because you know that, unfortunately, feelings of pain and loneliness and suffering aren’t unique in this world, but the ways in which they are experienced varies, and your posting about them could potentially unite people in suffering so that they can grow stronger and support each other and get through the pain.

Also, you like attention and can’t help but want to share whatever brilliant ideas you think you have with the world, or anyone who will listen.

 

Well, I think I clarified.

…Until next time.

-Catherine

 

 

 

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