OH EM GEE

...

I really don't understand myself sometimes...

There's something really off in my brain. I spend so much time just thinking, you'd assume I had a game plan and all my dominoes in place. I don't. Sometimes I think about making a plan, but...I never go through with anything. Sigh.

I know I shouldn't be treating my blog like a journal, but I literally have no one to talk to. I spent several hours last night wallowing in self-pity because I was always too shy or too scared or too busy to do what I really wanted to do as a kid...and now as an adult, it feels like I'm lightyears behind everyone else.

I never took piano lessons. I never got a chance to play lacrosse. I never want to space camp or science camp. I never took up falconry. I stopped doing figure skating even though I had the talent for it. I gave up and I hate myself for it. What do I have to show for myself? Shitty grades in high school. I can play a little piano because I taught myself, but I can't even read sheet music.

Lately I've been overcome by a powerful urge to relive a stage in my childhood when I was obsessed with space. Planets, stars, black holes-it was all so fascinating and alien, and I couldn't get enough of it. If you had asked me then, I could have told you the distance from Earth to the moon and the average temperatures on every planet in our solar system. And now? I don't stand a chance at becoming an astronomer or an astronaut. I don't. I flunked math multiple times in high school. Although I loved science-physics, chem and bio, I didn't work hard enough for good grades.

I'm not stupid. I know that for a fact-but I know there's no proof of me being the opposite. I've failed myself. I've failed my friends...I've failed my family. I'm never going to contribute anything to society so I may as well not even try, right?

I should try to sleep now...

Planes, trains and auto-no, mostly just planes.

I'M IN LOVE, GUYS.

...

A new life enters the world as another exits.

Famous Aviators

Over the last few days, it seems the aviation bug has been gnawing away at me.

With the prospect of finally achieving flight on the horizon, I can't get enough. Videos, interviews, blog posts, television, movies-and most powerful of all, history.

I don't know if you've ever heard of Howard Hughes. What an inspiring individual- a man who didn't take no for an answer and made history breaking air speed records and building the largest plane the world saw until the Russian Antonov came along. Amelia Earhart, probably the most famous of all female aviators, inspired me as much as Joan of Arc did when I was a child.

Then there are the unsung heroes- Ari Fuji, the first woman in Japan to become an airline Captain- just last year. Yekaterina Zelenko, a Soviet WW2 pilot who died to destroy an enemy fighter. There are thousands of others, pilots and engineers alike, who made the dream a reality, who's names might never be known. Hundreds of thousands of souls like me, who dreamed of taking to the skies, who looked down at the clouds or the earth below with childlike wonder. Thousands who never could. Thousands who gave up. Thousands who turned their back on their desires.

That will never be me.

And it goes on, and on, and on....

Finally, my weekend has arrived. (Yes, I know it's Tuesday. Monday is my Friday. Fun fun fun fun.)

So, what do I have planned?

"Hm, well I think I'll finally rent a copy of Top Gun, and write about robots. And maybe I'll go buy new windshield wipers, since mine are terrible and the rainy weather has hit Ontario. And while I'm at it, I should wash my car-it's still covered in Toronto grime. Oh yeah, and I need to go to the bank, and get a police check, and send money to Algonquin to secure my spot and....oh no, I forgot about residence!"

Instead, I've been sitting at my laptop reading every last article on a blog written by an American Airlines 737-800 Captain and watching Gone with the Wind.

I instituted a minimum word count but I don't think I need to explain why I haven't been able to keep up with myself. Do you have a job? Work four-five days a week, surrounded by screaming children and bitchy adults in a hot and humid environment that sucks the very life out of you? Do you drive two hours total to work everyday? Are you forced to listen to not only seven Taylor Swift songs a day, but also Justin Bieber? What's next, Rebecca Black? Sigh. I think you get the picture.

I'm slowly getting the hang of this new job-so in good time, I hope I can learn to cope better and maybe I'll learn to juggle writing, work, my social life, and other pursuits (such as watching Top Gun) more effectively.

It really makes me wonder...how the heck am I going to adapt to college?!

OH SHI-

Six months and counting. Before I know it I'll be on my own for the first time in my life, in a city five hours away from the people I care about the most. I'll be getting up every morning probably around six a.m., I'll be taking classes again-and tough ones at that-and I'll have to actually force myself to do homework, something I struggled with in high school.

However, I will be FLYING- specifically, one of these:

A OFC Cessna 150, the previously mentioned Golf Foxtrot Tango Mike

And you know what, I've been dreaming of flying nearly my whole life (though by drastically different measures, but hey, it's still flying, ain't it?) and the moment is nearly here. By Fall 2012, I will have all my licenses, and I will be FLYING. Flying free as a bird, but hopefully getting paid to do so. D'OH.

I'm not going to lie to you to save face. I'm scared shitless. I'm scared I'll fuck up on an approach. I'm scared that I won't be able to understand ATC's instructions. I'm scared I won't remember to check everything before I go flying, or calculate the fuel I need corrrectly or-god forbid-crash the damn thing. I've never been good at math. I've never been good at parking my car or putting together cute outfits, or talking to people.

However, every flight school staff I've ever talked to has told me the same thing: "If you have the passion, the skill will come."

And hell, do I have a passion for it. So, will I turn out to be another Amelia? Time will tell, won't it?

Me!

In any case, I think I've found my heaven on Earth. And I've already logged 0.8 flight hours toward my future.

:D

Wrote way over 500 words in the last hour.

Now I can't stop, and I need to sleep. Got work tomorrow.

I have unleashed unspeakable horrors upon myself.

Finally got to Macy's introduction. She's so bitchy in the morning :)