The Final One (BEDS 030)

Here we are, folks: the final blog in Blog Every Day in September 2016. I may have missed a lot of days this month, but I couldn't miss this one.

I entered this month with a major streak under my belt. SInce the beginning of July, I hadn't missed a single update, which is probably the most amount of content I've made in the most condensed amount of time since this blog started. (That's three blogs a week for two months straight. That's insane.) I was determined, this year more than ever, to make it out of September with 30 shiney new posts added to that list.

Alas, that didn't happen. I missed several days this month, sometimes for no reason at all other than I had homework to attend to, and didn't have time to do both. Sometimes I announced this on Facebook and Twitter. Sometimes I didn't, allowing myself to just disappear from the internet for a few days. (Except not actually, because I have a tendancy to spam Twitter when I'm procrastinating. Lol whoops.)

Still, though, we end the month today with a total of 20 blog posts, which is still a lot for thirty days. Now, with a tangible sense of relief, I leave behind the constant guilt of not blogging and return to the much more manageable realm of blogging three times a week. 

Normally about now, I'd start thinking about NaNoWriMo and the novel I plan to write in thirty days, starting thirty one days from now. But, for the first time since 2011, I'm considering not participating. With all the stuff going on in all of my classes, I'm just not sure I can commit to 50,000 words.

Then again, I thought the same thing last year and ended up going for it anyway. So I guess we'll see.

Until later,

- Justyne

Pick Your Battles (BEDS 029)

You will have noticed, dear friends, that as the month entered its second half, I began to neglect this daily blogging challenge. For that, you can blame one thing, and one thing only: university.

I have this really, really bad habit of trying to commit to too many things at once. I get an idea for a project and, unable to wait until I finish what I've already started (or, y'know, my homework), I add it to my to-do list and try to carve as much time out of my already chaotic schedule to work on it. Then I look at all the stuff I have to do, get super stressed, and push everything to the back of my mind in order to play Sims for four hours.

It's a never ending cycle, unfortunately, and what's worse is that it kind of dips into an endless cycle of self-loathing. I start to think poorly of myself, because clearly I am a super human being who should be more than capable of working on doing writing two papers, five blog posts, and a chapter of my novel in a week.

I'm trying to get better at picking my battles. That's why I dropped Japanese earlier in the month--it was like I was trying to give myself permission to let some things go, even if I didn't necessarily want to. It's why I let myself just not blog, first for a day or two, and then for an entire week. (Although that was mostly an accident and completely unintended.) It's why I've labelled things like my Christmas blog as low risk, low commitment.

My Christmas blog--which I created in 2014 and for some reason never talk about, even though I often view it as my pride and joy--is one of my most casual projects. Normally when I jump into something, I jump all in, but my Christmas blog is rarely like that. I take advantage of the fact that it's hosted on Tumblr, which has become a fairly unique form of blogging. It relies almost entirely on reblogs from others, with very little original content created by Yours Truly.

And it's really, really nice. Because I get to follow all these other Christmas blogs, and my dashboard is filled with wintertime goodness all year long, and I'm able to post on there about my favourite holiday whenever I please. And yes, I have things I want to do with it, content I would love to make. But I don't have to. If I don't, it's not a big deal. This is one of the first times I've ever had a project that I wasn't 100% invested in to the point of stress-induced freak outs.

I think it's important to have projects like this. Because now, when I feel stressed beyond belief and can't stand to write another academic word, I have something that I can turn to and have fun with. I can fiddle around with it, and because it's so low-stress, it doesn't feel like work. But at the same time, I don't feel like I'm twiddling my thumbs and wasting time, like when I'm playing Sims. I have the benefit of feeling productive, while still having that sense of a much-needed break between assignments.

And it's really, really nice.

Until later,

- Justyne

No Comprendo (BEDS 027)

Today, I'd like to tell you the story of how I dropped out of my Intermediate Japanese class after only being in it for about a day.

First, I'd like to start off by saying that I have never dropped a class in university before. I normally can't tell if I'm going to like a class or not within the add/drop period, and after that point I normally just stick it out until the end. (I'm very stubborn in that way.) The only reason I dropped this one is because I knew, after just one class, that this would not go well for me.

All will be explained in time.

It was Wednesday, the second day of school, and Japanese was my only class that day. I showed up an hour early, so I could buy some textbooks before class. The line, however, was so long that by the time I got out of there I was already fifteen minutes late on my first freaking day. No worries, though, not a big deal. I'll just sneak in quietly and sit near the back.

An excellent plan, if the door to the classroom wasn't located a mere few feet away from the professor, at the front of the classroom, for everyone to stop and stare at me as I scurried in mid-lecture.

Already, we're off to a great start.

After I sheepishly sat down in the first empty see I saw, right at the front of the class, the professor continued. She was going over the syllabus, highlighting certain assignments and whatnot, and while I felt a little lost without a physical copy in front of me, I could manage without it.

Then she said the following statement:

"You've probably noticed that, up to this point, I've been speaking entirely in English. That's because I want to make a gradual shift from English to Japanese, so you all can get used to speaking the language easier."

Seems reasonable, right? Defintely. And it was, for the next three seconds. After a slight pause and a nod, some unknown force picked me up and dropped me down in rural Japan--because my prof was speaking fluent Japanese at a rapid pace that I couldn't follow if someone was pointing a gun to my temple.

What made it worse? She was asking the class questions, and they were answering her. She was writing things on the chalkboard, numbered one to five, and I only recognized a single word out of the bunch. I sat there in shock and in panic, because clearly one of two things had just happened:

Scenario #1--I had actually somehow managed to register myself for an advanced language course, or,

Scenario #2--I had somehow fallen into a parallel universe, where everyone is automatically fluent in Japanese and such a course is simply an easy way to get a university credit.

(Or, Secret Scenario #3--it had simply been too long since my Intro class and I probably shouldn't have considered registering for a more advanced class without some thoroughly thorough review.)

So as I'm furiously pulling up dictionary app after dictionary app, trying to figure out what the hell was going on, the teacher starts calling on people. She picked one student at the far end of the class, and asked him to go first. This is good, I thought. I can work with this. I can listen to everyone else and narrow it down through the process of elimination.

Except that student wasn't ready. So she picked another student, sitting in the front row at the opposite end of the classroom--me.

I swear, in that moment, everyone heard my heart plummet from my chest down into the depths of the basement. My blood pressure skyrocketed, my brain fried, and as desperately as I wanted to say something--anything--any and all Japanese vocabulary evaporated, and the only phrases coming to mind were in French. (Yes, you heard me. FRENCH. After being dormant for five years, my sub-par French skills picked now to rise to the surface.)

Luckily, I got out of it, through a quick shake of my head once she finally asked me if I was ready. I desperately tried to follow along with the volunteers she picked to speak up and introduce themselves, but that ended up being pretty useless as, like I previously mentioned, everyone else in the class seemed perfectly capable of not only understanding the prof, but also replying just as quickly as she was. I exited the class feeling shaken, clueless, and in an absolute panic about how I could possibly manage to pass this course, let alone do well in it.

But like I said, I'm stubborn. I resolved to do the extra work, convinced that I was capable and could do it. I headed straight back to the bookstore, eyes set on that course's text and workbook.

Back in my intro class in PEI, my professor--bless his soul--made his own textbooks using outside resources. He sold it in the bookstore with a construction paper cover for six dollars, easily my cheapest textbook ever. No other prof I've had has done that, and I will forever be grateful for the money that professor saved me on my first round of textbooks.

HOWEVER. In the University of Winnipeg's intro class, they use a different textbook, which continues to be the requirement for the first half or so of the Intermediate class. Everyone else in my class had these materials--excpet for me. And I was convinced that if I could just get my hands on that workbook, I could power through all of the beginning excercises and emerge with fresh knowledge and understanding of the language that would, if not teach me to swim, at least prevent me from drowning entirely.

Except the problem is, the Intro text--while definitely required and used in the Intermediate class--was not listed as a required Intermediate text as the bookstore. Which means that the bookstore, through no fault of their own, only ordered in accordance to the Intro class.

Which means that, by the time I got there, the workbook that I had been counting on, the basket that I had put literally all of my eggs in, was gone. Sold out. Probably not going to be restocked, because that's just the way my life was going.

I bought the textbook that day, and contemplated over the next couple of days over how to proceed. But after I spent those couple of days stressed out to the point of not even being able to think...I just locked onto Web Advisor and dropped the course. I returned the text the next day, got my refund, and focused my stress and worrying on my other four classes.

Because that amount of stress, my friends, simply is not worth it. Sometimes you gotta know your limits and draw the line when you get there.

Hope you all enjoyed watching me suffer!

Until later,

- Justyne

Education vs. Career (BEDS 020)

My stance on university has always remained the same: take courses you're interested in, and find a job later. Education first, career second. I haven't failed to notice, though, the value society puts in the career you have after.

I'm not naive enough to believe that wanting a good job is not a motivating factor for attending university. In fact, if I'm being completely, 100% honest, it's a big reason I reapplied. It's a common reason, and an extremely valid one. If you want to be a lawyer because of the big, fat paycheck you'll get, I applaud you! (Mostly because I find law extremely dull and confusing, and I would never, ever, pursue it.)

But I hate--hate--when the topic turns to what I'm going to do after school. I hate that so many people view the lack of an intended career path as a downfall, a weakness, a liability. I resent all of the condescending thoughts that my degree is useless, or that the courses I'm taking will not benefit my future.

This year, I decided to take Japanese. It had no relation to any of my major requirements. The credit probably wasn't going to do me many favours on my transcript. But I took it in my first year, I liked it, I was good at it. I wanted to increase my conversational skills in the language, so I registered for the course.

Of course, I ended up dropping it after the first class, but that's another story entirely.

When I first started my degree, I hated it. The courses in my major were too broad, too general, too....bleh. I had no interest, so I dropped out. But the longer I'm here, the more narrowed the classes get, the more I like them. The more I'm interested. The more I actually care about what I'm learning, as opposed to the piece of paper I'm going to get afterwards.

I may have been prompted back into university with the possibility of a better job, but I stick around because I am invested.

The things we discuss in class are things that pique my interest. I'm taking a course in Canadian comics, with books on the syllabus that I'm genuinely excited to read. I'm taking a popular literature and film class, and on the very first day we screened Inside Out. (Even more impressively, I managed not to cry.) I'm taking a class about fairy tales--FAIRY TALES. If that's not the literal most perfect class for me, I don't know what is.

Even though school stresses me out, and I breathe a sigh of relief every time a break comes along, I am genuinely happy to be here. I am genuinely excited about what I'm studying, about (some of) the papers I'm assigned to write. And that's how it should be.

Sometimes you need a degree to do what you really want to do--but, as I've said before, I have never been one of those people. So right now, all I care about is being challenged, thinking critically, and being exposed to new perspectives that I wouldn't have seen otherwise.

At least that way, I'll have some pride in the piece of paper I get at the end of it all, instead of disappointment from not getting the career I set my mind on.

Until later,

- Justyne

Micro Fiction Monday: End of Summer (BEDS 019)

I dipped my big toe in first. The water was cold—freezing, even—but so was the air around me. The sun was just beginning to shimmer above the horizon. It was too early to be awake, and far too soon to be leaving.

At least, that’s what everyone said. But summer was ending, and already I could see a yellow tint on the leaves above the cabin. Registration for classes had come and gone, and back-to-school ads plagued the radio that my sister had brought down to the beach every day. Now, the car was getting packed and loaded, and soon our summer home would disappear behind the mountains for another nine months.

I lowered myself onto the dock, easing the rest of my foot into the water. I swung my other leg around and eased it in, too, shivering as I did. There was no time to be slow, no time to get used to the temperature. So I slowly swung my legs beneath the water, hands gripping the dock, and stared off at the horizon as the sun inched its way up. The other cottages dotting the lake remained dark, and the birds and crickets remained quiet.

In that moment, it was just me and the lake. Just how I liked it.

                
Eventually, my peace ended. I was called back to the car, the engine revved, and we pulled out of the driveway for the last time. With my sister already asleep on my shoulder, I watched as our house disappeared out of sight, taking my summer with it.

Disney Tag (BEDS 016)

Hello again, friends! I don't often do tags (i.e. question-and-answer games), but since this is Blog Every Day in September....well, I'm gonna one today. I took some Disney-themed questions this blogger over here, so let's have some fun!

A scene in any Disney movie you wish you could experience?

The lantern scene in Tangled. Duh.

An unforgettable experience/moment you've had at the Parks?

My entire 20th birthday was pretty unforgettable, because how could a birthday spent in Disney World not be?

In particular, though, what I probably enjoyed most was dancing to YMCA and the Macarena in Downtown Disney after a full day spent at Magic Kingdom. It's the little things, guys.

What non-Disney song(s) reminds you or brings back memories of Disney and/or the Parks?

I mean, I have an entire playlist of park music that I listen to, so....

When was the first time you went to a Disney Park? 

2011! I was 17, and it was the first vacation I took that I paid for entirely by myself. Money well spent, if you ask me.

If you could choose any of the characters to be your best friend, who would you choose?

Probably Stitch, because ??? How could you not want him as a sidekick??

Who are your favourite Disney princesses?

Tiana, because she teaches girls to work hard for what they want, and Anna, because she and I are literally the same people.

Name a scene/moment in any Disney movie that never fails to make you cry?

Have you seen Inside Out? Yeah, that.

What is the first Disney movie you remember seeing?

The first one I distinctly remember seeing is Monster's Inc. when it first came out in theatres. (2001...I woulda been about 5 or 6?) I know I watched A Bug's Life before that, but the only thing I remember about it is that we had a VHS tape that wouldn't work? Idk I was little.

What is your favourite Disney movie?

Tangled, without a doubt. Has been since I saw it in 2011.

(I'm runnin' real low on ideas here, guys.)

Until later,

- Justyne

Grace VanderWaal (BEDS 015)

I don't really follow a lot of reality TV. (Unless it's, like, the Food Network or something.) I'll watch an episode or two here and there, but I definitely don't get caught up in The Bachelor like some people do.

But damn, I'm a sucker for audition clips. You know, for shows like America's Got Talent or The X Factor, where they have particpants audition live in front of an audience. I don't like watching the bad audition that everyone makes fun of, because to be honest I cringe too much to take enjoyment out of it. But what I do like watching are the good auditions--the ones that get the golden buzzer, the ones that get a standing ovation and a yes from every single judge.

I love watching these because it's like I'm watching someone's dream come true, right in front of my eyes. Because in that moment, it is. Regardless of whether or not they win, no matter how far they make it in the competition--in that moment captured on film, everything they have been wishing for is coming true. And it makes me so, so happy to see them so happy.

Last night, Grace Vanderwaal won America's Got Talent. I saw her audition back in June, and I've watched it a hundred times since. Her voice is stunning and her personality sparkles, and I don't think I've ever been happier about the results of a reality show. She deserves it, I think. When I watched the results this morning, myself--along with a million others--watched all her dreams come true.

And I'm so, so happy for her.


Until later,

- Justyne

How to: Blog Every Day (BEDS 013)

Sometimes, writing a blog is easy. Sometimes I know exactly what to write about, the words flow nicely, and I'm able to finish my day knowing that I uploaded some well-rounded and damn-near great content.

Other times--particularily in Septemer--not so much.

Every year, as the summer winds down and thoughts of school begin to rear their ugly head, I start to plan my annual BEDS challenge. I always have great intentions. I always plan to write as many posts as I can ahead of time, and I always have a list of brainstormed ideas for when my pre-written schedule inevitably runs out. I always think it will go smoothly...which, really, is my first mistake.

Something always comes up. I don't write as many blog posts as I would have liked, and my brainstorms never spark as much inspiration as they did when I first wrote them down. So by halfway through the month, you get posts like this: ones written between classes, my iPad in my lap, fingers furiously typing the first words that pop into my brain. And, quite honestly, you'll all be lucky if I even think to proof read this before hitting "publish".

So today, I present to you this: a quick, dubious how-to guide for somehow managing to upload a new blog every day.

Step 1: Remember that you have a blog in the first place. You'd think it'd be easy, remembering something I've had to do regularily since 2013. Alas, as we have all seen in the past, I forget often enough that it should probably be of some concern to me.

Step 2: Carry your laptop around everywhere. (Or, in this case, an iPad named Suzie.) To blog every day, you need to sqeeze in as much time as you can. Five and ten minute gaps between classes can and do provide a lot, but it's hard to blog when you don't have a device connected to the internet. (A phone works well enough, too.)

Step 3: Remind yourself that it's ONLY FOR THIS MONTH. Then you can go back to your leisurely pace of three blogs a week. Ah, the good 'ol days...

Step 4: Stare at a blank screen for a solid five minutes. Because writer's block is gonna happen, so you might as well get it out of the way right at the beginning.

Step 5: Tell yourself that yes, Tumblr will definitely give you an idea for a blog post. Somehow.

Step 6: Write about literally the first thing that pops into your mind. These posts don't have to be long. Stretch the topic out into a few paragraphs, and you can call it a day.

Step 7: Get it done before midnight. It ain't tomorrow until 12 am.

Step 8: Tell yourself that there are other time zones in the world. It may be tomorrow here, but it's still yesterday somewhere.

Step 9: Hit "Publish" and hope for the best. It's as good as it's ever gonna be at this point, and sometimes you just have to decide to put it down.

Step 10: Move on to something else instead of prepping for tomorrow. Because If you can do it today, you can sure as hell do the same thing tomorrow.

Until later,

- Justyne

Micro Fiction Monday: Mondays (BEDS 012)

“Gooooood morning, WTXY listeners! What a beautiful way to start a Monday, am I right? The sun is shining, it’s a beautiful seventeen degrees celsius, and we’ve got all the hottest tunes to start your week off right! We’re gonna—“

I slammed my fist down on the radio, and with a staticky fizzle, the announcer finally shut up. Last night, the idea of setting the radio as my alarm seemed ingenious—what better way to get me up and at ‘em as quickly as possible? Clearly, I didn’t account for the overly-enthusiastic host, which did more to chew at my nerves than motivate me to get out of bed.

I groaned and squinted at the sliver of light shining through my curtains. Mornings and Mondays are horrible enough by themselves—put them together and they’re basically a gift from Satan. I pushed myself up in bed, knowing that the longer I stayed there, the more likely it was that I’d fall asleep, and make the day worse than it already was. At this stage, there was only one thought on my mind.

Coffee.

I stumbled, half-blind and sluggish from the lingers of dreamland, out of my room and down the hall to the kitchen. I had to mentally track the process, for fear that any wander would result in broken ceramics on the floor.

Step one: grab mug. Check.

Step two: Fill with water. Check

Step three: pour into coffee maker. Check.

Step four: insert single-serve coffee grounds. Check.

Step five. I slammed my hand down on the “brew” button and leaned against the counter, waiting for the satisfying gurgle of God’s beverage being made.

What I heard instead was a moan, a hissing, and a pop as the machine sprayed water all over the counter, the mug…and myself.

Don't Be a Crapbag (BEDS 011)

Let me tell you all a story.

When I was six, I was obsessed with Sailor Moon. It was one of my favourite shows, second only to The Powerpuff Girls, and it feuled my writing inspiration for the first few years of my writing life. The show was removed from the air, I cried, and moved on.

When I was in middle school, I discovered YouTube. Having been founded in 2005, barely two years prior, YouTube was still a very new platform. At first, I thought YouTube was a website best used for music, and didn't really watch much of anything else.

Until I discovered a channel that, by the grace of God, had uploaded every single episode of the English dubbed version of the show, each one split into three parts to meet the primitive upload requirements. Thus, I fell down the rabbit hole, and began to rewatch the show that had played such a huge role in my childhood.

But I didn't tell anybody. In fact, I hid it. I tried to keep this harmless fact--that I watched a show that most would say was made "for little kids"--a secret. I was afraid that my peers--family, friends, classmates, whatever--would think that it was childish. I was afraid that they would make fun of me for it, or say that I was stupid for liking it.

I don't care about that anymore, obviously. I openly fangirl and gush over everything that catches my interest, anime or otherwise. I put Disney fanart on my walls, I buy shirts featuring the sailor scouts, I wear necklaces that only Legend of Zelda fans would recognize. I like what I like, and I let everyone know.

But there are people in this world who would make my middle-school self run for cover. These people are the very reason I was, for so long, inclined to hide the things that I liked and took interest in, in fear of ridicule.

These people are called crapbags.

My definition of a crapbag is someone who takes enjoyment out of crapping all over the interests of someone else--namely, the shows and movies they watch, the books they read, or the games they play. Simply disliking something does not make someone a crapbag--I certainly don't expect everyone to share my interest in things. Similarily, refusing to watch / read something because it doesn't appeal to you ALSO does not make you a crapbag. That's why trailers and book blurbs exist--to give you a basic expectation of the genre and tone of the material. If you choose not to take part in it, that's perfectly fine.

But here is a basic fact: YOU CANNOT CALL SOMETHING STUPID IF YOU HAVE NOT PROPERLY EXPERIENCED THE MATERIAL. You can say, "Oh, that's not my thing." or, "Sorry, I think that looks kinda dumb. I don't really want to watch it." OR EVEN, "Idk man that premise looks stupid, I don't wanna watch that crap." I myself, say the latter all the time.

What you cannot do is insult the material without really criticizing it.

Crapbags aren't eloquent or mature enough for discussions or debates. In fact, most crapbags have not even seen the material in question. They just crap all over it. They call it stupid, childish, imply that it is beneath them. It's just about impossible to have a conversation with someone once they turn to Crapbag Mode, because they are so closed-minded that your words are not even granted access to their Great Intelligent Mind.

Too many times in my life I have had people crap all over me and my favourite shows and books and whatever, for reasons that I have never been able to comprehend. Even if they're joking around--the joke gets real old, real fast. You are taking this thing that someone is passionate about, something that someone takes enjoyment in, and putting it down. In the process, you're putting them down.

I will gladly have a critical conversation with someone about a show. I will gladly discuss its flaws--because, guess what, I am not ignorant to its flaws, no matter how much I like it. I will argue its good points, I will discuss any aspect of the show / movie / book you want. We may agree to disagree, and I'm okay with that.

But once someoned has turned to Crapbag Mode, there's no saving them. Because by this point, they are literally just making fun of someone for having an interest in something that they don't like. You're crapping all over someone / something because they take enjoyment in it, and honestly? It's kind of pathetic. Not only that, but it's condescending, rude, and just plain unnecessary.

So don't be a crapbag. Don't be that guy. If you really can't stand the source material that much, change the topic and find some common ground. Think before you speak--and before I lose a lot of respect for you.

Until later,

- Justyne

I am Very Loud (BEDS 010)

I do not know what an inside voice is. When I raise my voice, I don't even know that I'm doing it. I'm not mad or irritated, just...excited.

I mean, don't get me wrong--I do complain about things. A lot. And when I get worked up, I get really, really loud. But I also get loud when I get excited about something--when my favourite TV show comes back, for example, or when the book I just read is exceptionally devastating. When I find an interest, a cause, literally anything that holds my interest for more than two seconds...I get excited.

And when I get excited, I get...well, loud. It's a thing. It happens.

It's something about myself that I never really noticed, to be honest, until the last couple years. People started commenting on it--not negatively, per say. Just pointing it out. It's not really something I can change, either, because it's not something that I realize I'm doing. I mean, I probably could change it, if I tried hard enough. If I really wanted to.

But I don't really want to.

I get loud when I get excited, and it just so happens that I get excited a lot. I consider myself a very passionate person, and one of the ways I express my passion for something is by talking a lot about it. I discuss, I ramble, I gush, I fangirl...loudly. It's not always the most appropriate way to express myself, but...¯\_(ツ)_/¯. It is what it is.

It's funny to think about sometimes, because I used to be--and in some cases, still am--very quiet. I'll sit on the sidelines of a conversation and observe. I'll sit in the back of the class and take in the discussion without participating. I'm shy and reserved...until the topic of Disney comes up, because then I'm loud and obnoxious and probably unbearable.

I'm...complicated. But I'm cool with that.


Until later,

- Justyne

The Illusion of Productivity (BEDS 009)

My name is Justyne, and I am in love...with office supplies.

When I was younger, and still attended public school, I put on this huge show of not wanting summer to end. I complained about school coming up, I protested our back-to-school Winnipeg shopping trip, I made a face every time I saw any back-to-school advertisement, or a pack of pencils on sale at Wal-Mart. But all the while, I was hiding an immense secret.

I loved it. Every second of it. I loved the fresh paper, the new notebooks, the pens that were ripe and full of ink for me to scrawl onto every scrap piece of parchment I could find. I loved shopping for new clothes, even though they were all sweaters that I knew I wouldn't be able to wear for another month yet. I even loved packing up my backpack on the first day, preparing for another year of learning.

I love shopping for school and office supplies. I love buying post-it notes, even though I always lose them before I use them. I love buying pens, even though I have such a huge stash that I could probably get by without ever having to buy a new pack again. I love buying pencils, even though I only use them for exams. I love buying notebooks, even though I have an iPad and take all my notes digitally, now, because I can type three times faster than I can write.

And for the longest time, I didn't know why. Why did I love buying these things? Why, even when I was out of school, did I feel the urge to buy every agenda, every pack of highlighters and binder I saw? Why is Staples one of my favourite stores to fall prey to capitalism for?

It gave me this feeling, this air of satisfaction that I couldn't place or name for the longest time...until someone named it for me. Some random stranger on the internet, some Tumblr user for whom I will probably never learn the username of, was able to accurately describe this feeling that I've always been at a loss for.

This person, whose username I've long since forgotten, called it, "The illusion of productivity."

And they were so freaking right.

Everytime I find myself in Staples, buying school supplies, I'm imagining a better life for myself. Because if I buy these post-its, these pens, this abnormally large box of multi-coloured paper clips, surely I'll be a more productive person, right? Simply the presence of this shiny new box of supplies will do wonders for my motivation, right?

Except not really. It never quite works out that way. I'll use the pens, sure, but it won't magically make my life any better. And does anyone even really need that many paper clips?

Yet the cycle always starts anew, every time I enter the store. I am tempted by the organizers, the planners, the label makers (because I am apparently in dire need of a label maker, according to my heart). Any possible item that holds the possibility of incresed organization, you can find me drooling over.

And still, my life remains an unorganized mess. C'est la vie, I guess.


Until later,

- Justyne

The Simple Things (BEDS 008)

I like a lot of things. And when I really, really like something, I get very, very passionate about it. When I get passionate, I get excited, and when I get excited, I get loud. And when I get loud, well...it gets really hard to shut me up.

But there are some things I love a lot that I'm very quiet about. These things are simple, small, everyday things that I don't really think about, until I see them and think, Holy CRAP I love this so much!

These things include, but are not limited to:

1. The light of a Christmas tree in a dark room.

2. The satisfaction of having perfectly wrapped a gift.

3. A blue, cloudless sky.

4. The first snowfall of the year, and all the magic it brings.

5. The satisfaction of singing "I'll Make a Man Out of You" from Mulan. (Especially when you imitate all the different voices.)

6. Cheesecake. Just cheesecake.

7. Spinning around the room in a brand new dress, because screw all of you I'll be a princess if I want.

8. Singing in the shower (but only when no one is home, because I'm not very good).

9. The feeling of wearing brand new clothes for the first time.

10. When you look in the mirror partway through the day and your hair is on freaking point.

11. The wear and tear on a favourite book.

12. When you accidentally draw a perfectly straight line.

13. When the pages of a book absorb your very consciousness and you just can't put it down.

14. When the day ends and you can't help but feel proud because of all you accomplished.

15. A really good, really long hug.

16. The smell of a new (or old) book.

17. When you find the literal perfect song for how you're currently feeling.

18. Blizzards and/or thunderstorms.

19. Blankets and hot chocolate.

20. Pumpkin. Pumpkin everything.


What are some of your favourite things?

Until later,

- Justyne

Review: F*ck! I'm In My Twenties by Emma Koenig (BEDS 007)

"This isn't a "how-to" book or a "how-not-to" book, it's more of a "how do I deal with my life without wanting to stab myself in the eyes with icicles?" book." - Emma Koenig, F*ck! I'm in My Twenties

So, funny story, guys. I had a book picked out for this week, but as it turns out, it's like five hundred and a billion pages, and since it is now 9:03 pm, I really don't think I'm going to finish it in time for a review tonight. BUT THE STREAK MUST CONTINUE!

Thus, I present you with this: F*ck! I'm in My Twenties by Emma Koenig, a gift I received on my 22nd birthday and a book that, while short, is extremely accurate. It's one of those books that you flip through a lot while browsing, and giggle at just about every page, but that you can't normally justify buying because it's so short and you already read about 75% of it just standing in front of the shelf.

If that's you, though, don't worry--it's also a blog!

Just about the only thing I've been talking about in the weeks leading up to my birthday (and the days since) is how old I am. Because come on--I'm twenty two. I'm ancient. The best years of my life are behind me, now, and there's no point in moving forward.

(I'm kidding. (Mostly.))

I'll admit, I haven't been in my twenties for very long. But this book brings all the crap that comes with the territory in a hilarious light, through lists and doodles and a variety of venn diagrams. It's definitely a fast read, but one that had me snickering and reading aloud to others the entire time.

And that's...all I have to say on this one, really. (It was short, okay?? All you need to know is that it was good.)

Final rating: 4.5 stars.

Until later,

- Justyne

School Year Resolutions (BEDS 006)

My reign of terror freedom has ended. Today, my friends, I return to school.

The start of a new school year, as we all know, is full of hope. Beautiful, sometimes naive hope that, "This year will be different!" It's like the start of a new calendar year, but less depressing, because the hope of Christmas is still on the horizon. I find that making resolutions in September makes way more sense than making them in January, actually, because by the time January rolls around, the freshness of the school year has worn off, everything is dead, and literally all anyone wants is to get back to summer, when they don't have a 25 page term paper due and only 24 hours to get it done. 

Hence, my School Year Resolutions.

I'll be frank with you: these mostly stay the same every year, because I suck at resolutions and could really stand to improve pretty much every aspect of my life, academic or otherwise. But I'll still share them with you, anyway, because who knows--this may be the year that they get done.

(Stop laughing.)

2016-2017 SCHOOL YEAR RESOLUTIONS

1. Stop procrastinating, maybe. Somewhat. Okay, at least start the damn term paper more than just a couple days early.

2. Keep regular blog posts going throughout the school year. This includes book reviews.

3. Try and finish NaNoWriMo. Without crying.

4. Keep my room (relatively) clean, so that you're not prompted to go rage-cleaning the day before your exam. (Instead of studying.)

5. Stop zoning out during my lectures. This is very important.

6. Maybe talk to people at school for a change. I don't know, something to think about.

7. Take better notes, so I can actually understand what I wrote down three months from now. (Also: saying, "I'll definitely remember what this means" does not, in fact, make it true.)

8. Consider studying for exams earlier, so that I'm not tempted to sneak a peek at my notes at work. (Not like I've done this or anything.)

9. Stop spending so much money on food.

10. Just try to survive the school year relatively unscathed.

So how many of you are going to school, and what are your school year resolutions? Comment below and let me know!

Until later,

- Justyne

Micro Fiction Monday: A World of Magic (BEDS 005)

I live in a world where magic exists. When I was thirteen, I was presented with a choice—continue to live in complete mediocrity, or move to the place where animated movies are set and fairy tales are inspired by.

Needless to say, I chose the latter, and my life became an adventure. I have ridden on broomsticks and magic carpets, I have fought dragons and danced with princes and learned that once you sprinkle pixie dust on something, in never comes out.

The world is not without its dangers, of course. I have scars from close encounters with daggers and swords. Falling from flight often leads to a concussion, and dragons are far scarier than they are mystical. Many people would say that leaving the world I know, leaving my home, is not worth the life of adventure I live now.

I would disagree. Sometimes, the “home” you thought you had is nothing but another scar. I have mastered this world, I have grown into it. It is no longer the realm of fairy tales, but of reality.

Now, this world of magic is my home, and it’s the people I’ve met that have made it so.

The Five Year Plan (BEDS 004)

You know what I suck at? Long-term planning. I am physically incapable, it seems, of planning everything beyond the end of tomorrow. Like, I just can't do it. I have many a talent, and that simply isn't included. I had a weekly planner mousepad, once. I thought it would help.

It didn't.

I tried so hard. I would sit down at the beginning of the week, carefully consider my work schedule and school schedule and literally everything that I had going on in my life. I would judge how long a task would take, and plan an asburd amount of extra time for it. In most cases, in fact, it was actually a rather reasonable schedule.

But something would come up, as something always does. I would miss one item on my to-do list for the day, and then suddenly the rest of my week would be invalid. Because guess what: each item on every to-do list for the rest of the week was dependent on me getting that one freaking thing done on Monday!

"So just bump it all back a day," you say. But guess what! I can't! It's all there, in ink, permenently visible to my vulnerable soul! I can't just change it. Do you know how long it took to discover this delicate balance of regular updates? Three years! Aka: TOO FREAKING LONG.

So you can see, from my inability to efficiently plan for the week, why I would dislike the idea of a 5 Year Plan. I don't think I've even broken into Year 1 yet--I'm still rooted in Year 0! I can barely plan for today, let alone five freaking years from now. (Plus, I'll be, like, twenty-seven. Twenty-seven! I don't want to think about that, thank you.)

How do you even make a five-year plan? That's the sort of thing they tell you to do in your first year of university, when your eyes are still full of hope and the combination of student debt and a retail job hasn't killed your soul yet. That's the sort of thing that they tell you to do in high school, when you still think adulthood is going to be the Best Thing Ever. (Spoiler alert: run away.) I'm pretty sure you have to have your life together to even think about making a Five Year Plan.

Me? I avoided my desk for three days because of a giant spider I watched crawl across it earlier in the week. I am the very opposite of put together.

I mean, don't get me wrong--I have goals. I have dreams. I'm a semi-functioning human being. I like to think that I'll get accepted into an international program in Walt Disney World, and spend all of next summer working there. I like to think that I'll have my university degree by the time I'm 24. (Okay...maybe 25.) I have ideas for more tattoos that I want to plaster my body with. I find myself considering moving back to the East coast after graudation.

And somewhere in between all that, I like to think I'll get published.

But in the last couple years I've learned a thing or do--namely, it's okay to take things one thing at a time. I work better when I narrow my focus, weedle my to-do list down to a single day. I can't let myself get caught up in everything I have to do tomorrow, next week, next month...just to complete a deadline that I've imposed on myself.

I don't have a Five Year Plan. But I make goals based on the seasons, I pick my passion and run with it, and somehow manage to get stuff done along the way. Maybe not as much as I hoped, but something is better than nothing.

There is no time limit. Just a list I made at one in the morning, and the hope that I'll complete it sometime in this lifetime.

Until later,

- Justyne

IT'S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF YEAR (BEDS 003)

YES, SIR, FRIENDS, YOU HEARD RIGHT! There are now only ONE HUNDRED AND TWELVE DAYS UNTIL CHRISTMAS!

I do this every year. Y'all already know this. The second my birthday passes, I whip old the 'ol Santa hat and start blasting those Christmas carols nonstop through to December 25th. (Except not really, because I think my roommates would probably kick me out, and I rather like having a roof over my head.)

What is it about Christmas that motivates me to drive everyone around me insane? It's the jingle bells, the jolly tunes, the cool crisp air that comes as the season draws closer. It's the first blanket of snow on a quiet morning, the sparkle of streelights against the frozen crystals after the sun sets.  It's the way the night sky looks before snowfall--like dawn is fast approaching, when it's still several hours away. It's the satisfaction of a perfectly wrapped present, the glitter that covers my desk after writing out a hundred cards. It's the light of a Christmas tree, the warmth of hot chocolate under a heavy blanket, the fuzzy Christmas specials that air every year.

It's the excitement. It's coming upstairs on Christmas morning to my little sister perched eagerly in front of Santa's gifts. It's the mad rush of decorating sugar cookies, and inadvertently covering every square inch of the kitchen table in icing. It's the quiet peace of Christmas afternoon, when the madness is over and all that's left is the company of your loved ones. It's the joy of seeing your favourite people light up at the sight of the Perfect Gift.

Christmas is and probably always will be my favourite time of year--the day I lose my Christmas spirit is the day humanity has lost all glimmer of hope. Until then, I will continue to count down the days in my overly-eager anticipation.

And you'll stick around and enjoy it, because you don't have a choice.

Until later,

- Justyne

P.S. If you want to keep better track of my Christmas countdown, you can either follow me on Twitter, or check out my Christmas blog on Tumblr.

AND A HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME (BEDS 002)

Welcome, friends, to my birthday weekend--a four day event, and the final four days before university returns to take over my life! I'll be straight with you--I have no idea what's going on, or what's going to happen, because it's currently still August and I'm trying to schedule as many of these damn blogs as I possibly can before I get too caught up in procrastinating my homework. (There will be cheesecake, though.)

But I do know one thing--today, as you all are reading this, I am 22. I am older than little ten year old me ever thought I could possibly get, and probably younger than the future fifty year old me could ever remember being. I am the age that Taylor Swift wrote a song about, an age that is once again a digit higher than that of my best friend, until she catches up with me four months from now. I am one year above the legal drinking age in the states, and 4 years above the one in my home province.

Every time my birthday comes around, I think, "I can't believe I'm this old." 22 is not old, yet it is, because I have never experienced an age any older than what I am. I will continue to think this every time a birthday comes around, every time my younger sisters reach milestones that I can hardly believe that I've already passed. I will continue to think that I only graduated a year or two ago, when in fact my old high school is now filled exclusively with people I have never gone to school with. I will continue to think that middle school was only a handful of years ago, when in fact it has been a near decade. And I will continue to deny that, with every passing year, the number of friends whom I have known for a decade climbs higher--because the fact that I am old enough to know someone for a decade is scary as hell.

But no matter how old I get, I will always use my birthday as an excuse to treat myself. I will eat cheesecake for days, and I will sleep in, guiltlessly, as long as I want. I will open presents and spend gift cards and ignore the fact that school is waiting for me at the end of it all. I will watch all my favourite movies and gorge myself on chocolate and play Sims until my computer craps out. I will surround myself with my favourite people and party--or chill--until I get sick of all of them (or until they get sick of me, whatever comes first).

And then, after all is said and done...I'll start counting down the days until Christmas, because there is not a single day that I love more than December 25th.

Until tomorrow,

- Justyne

Traditions (BEDS 001)

On September 1st, 2013, I took a walk to the nearest Tim Hortons, with my laptop in tow, and plopped myself down for a writing session that ended up providing me with more work than I originally anticipated. During my pre-writing procrastination session, I stumbled upon an event of sorts. The "Write Fifteen Minutes a Day" challenge (or WFMAD, for short) was started by miss Laurie Halse Anderson on her own blog 6 years prior. The goal was small and simple--commit to writing fifteen minutes a day for one month. Easy, right? At face value, sure. But when do I ever take the easy way out?

I accepted the challenge, but with my own twist. Under the assumption that one blog post would take me approximately fifteen minutes to write, I decided to upload a new post on my blog--which, at the time, had only been in existence for barely six months--every day in September. Little did I realize at the time that my poor blogging skills would result in much scrambling over the course of the month, and that this spontaneous challenge really deserved a lot more thought than I initially gave it.

But when do I ever think anything through?

Still, though, I perservered, and came away from the month with thirty new blog posts and the new appreciation for only having to upload once a week. (Of course, that quickly became twice a week...but that's another story for another time.)

A year later, the challenge returned--refreshed and revamped, I turned it into my own little event. From then on, I referred to the month as BEDS--or Blog Every Day in September. 2014 yielded a slightly less successful year, but I still walked away with 26/30 attempted posts going up more or less according to schedule.

In 2015...well, I kinda skipped 2015. We don't talk about 2015.

But now I'm back, with the Fourth Annual Blog Every Day in September Challenge! There will be tears, there will be laughter, there will be complete and utter chaos as I struggle to remain on course for the month--all while going to university, because yes, friends--I am that insane.

Mondays and Wednesdays will keep their regularly scheduled content, but every other day will be a complete free-for-all that will undoubtebly result in many, many shenanigans. So buckle up and prepare for the ride, whatever chaos it may bring!

Until tomorrow,

- Justyne