Work Destroys Love pt 2

So my mum and I had a long phone conversation today. It started out fine; Prof. S had emailed our first essays back, and I'd forwarded it to my mum. He had a lot of stuff to say, but also gave me an A/A-, and said that it was a good paper; so we discussed his comments and how I’d done well. Only, and I should have expected this, it didn’t end there. Mum then started on about how see, I can write essays and American Gods is just another essay and I should work on it and just finish the first draft and send it out.

And then everything went to shit. Because every day so far I have been opening up a blank document and taking out my books and then just staring at everything because literally no words come to mind and I just draw a complete blank. But my mum was like, look, just try a paragraph; it doesn’t have to be in order. You have an outline, pick a point, and work on that. And then she told me to open a document and she’d talk me through it. Only it didn’t work. I just blanked out again. And we spent almost half an hour with me sitting in complete silence and then mum asking if I’d written anything and I’d shrug and then remember she couldn’t see me, and so mumble that no I hadn’t written anything, I didn’t know what to write. And it just kept worse and worse until finally I told her that I was fine as long as I didn’t think about this essay and could we please drop it. And so a couple of minutes later she said bye and hung up.

And wrote me this email:

Reading his comments initially I was really scared but after reading his final paragraph, then reading them again you realise how he has done this, really seriously, and so that you can write a strong essay next time.
I don't know how to help you do this but trust me when i say American Gods is also do-able. If you can see that the outline you have is workable then you will be able to do it, without too much trouble. But as long as you are scared of it, made unhappy by it, then you won't make a move, na?
Which is why i said write a couple of lines, anything, just write. So long as it is about American Gods. break the hold it has on your mind that it is terribly wrong and just write. Even if it is nothing connected to your outline. The writing will help.
And please don't think I am 'getting on your case': might look like it but I am trying to not let you be defeated so that you can at least have some 'American-gods-free' time this spring break. And you are entitled to that so yeah, if I sound like I am on your case this is why.
You loved the book: write a book review, random ideas and then slowly it'll come back.

Only I haven’t the heart to tell her that I don’t love the book anymore. I don’t even hate it. I'm just terrified of it. I fear it. I fear a goddamn book. Because it has reduced to me this pitiful mass of self-doubt and anxiety that I never was before.

January and February Favourites

I should have done this a LONG time ago, but it’s Spring Break, and if you've read my previous post, you know that I have an essay to write and I'm trying to procrastinate that as much as possible. So, I’m finally doing this instead. In no particular order, here goes:

1. Being Home
I never thought I’d be this happy about being home, but I was. I got to spend time with my mum and my cousin and my little brother, I got to snuggle with my cat, I got to read books that I’d been missing and craving. I got to eat whatever I wanted and not have to worry about how much it cost. I got to stay up as late as I wanted, and sleep in till lunchtime. I got my own room and free laundry and nice weather. I got to whine and argue and laugh and tell stories and hear stories and meet people I hadn't seen or talked to in months. I might have hated it while I had it, but now that I only get it once a year, home is precious.

2. My Girls.
Being reunited with them was fantastic. We did exactly the same nonsense that we used to do before I left. In fact, our first meeting was like a reconstruction of one of our college days. We met at the same place for lunch; ate a lot of the same food; wandered through the same store; went to the same friend’s house; did the same thing that we always did- sprawl on the bed with the main lights off and only sunlight and twinkling Christmas lights on and talked and ate. And then realised we were all out past our curfew and so rushed back. I think we met once every week, and for once we all remembered to take pictures, so now we have records of our time together, and well, I think it’s safe to say that the time I spent with my friends was my favourite time that whole month

3. Sam.
I got to see Sam after TWO. Freakin’. Years. Strangely enough, my last weekend was the absolute best time I had on the entire visit, and I owe it all to Sam. It was SO incredible to be in the same room with her, and to surprise everyone else, and to see how she practically melded into my family like she’d been a part of it all along.

4. Becky's gifts.

Need I say more?

5. Fourteen years and counting.
I met one of my oldest friends ever. We've known each other for fourteen years, and even though we've gone from sticking to each other for seven hours each day for five days a week, to meeting once a year and then talking for four hours straight without a pause, nothing’s really changed. We are SO different, and yet at the same time there are some things about us that are extremely similar, and we understand each other so perfectly that we surprise ourselves.

6. Traces Sam left behind
Some time at the beginning of Feb, I opened up the Sticky Notes gadget thing that I usually leave on my laptop. And in the sticky note labelled “favourites” (that I use to keep track of my monthly favourites), I found this: “Sam (aww! Heart. <3. I shall miss being able to creepily write things on your laptop.)”
I plugged in my Hard Disk a few weeks back to transfer something, and what do I see in the list of folders, but one named “For Sam”.

7. Mug Meals.

For all you people who don't want to spend too much money on food and don't have access to anything except a microwave. allow me to introduce you to microwave mug recipes.
I can eat regular-ish food again. And I can make it myself!

8. I discovered this amazing shop (that, to be fair, I’d heard about and seen almost every day, just never actually gone inside). It has EVERYTHING, and at really good prices. When I say everything, I mean everything. From clothes (not fancy stuff, but basic things- pants, tops, sweaters, t-shirts, underwear) to makeup to travel stuff to house furnishings to kitchen utensils to food to stationery. Literally everything. I wandered inside there for like an hour or something, and was like if I could just find some place to stay, I could get so many useful things from this shop!

9. Professor S.
So I have this young professor for one of my English classes (the same one that assigned American Gods), and goddammit, he’s amazing. For real. He is possibly the most unproblematic white man I have ever met. He’s almost perfect. He’s really, really smart. And a great teacher. Funny. Reads. And into fandom stuff. Recognises problematic issues. Nerdy. So. Goddamn. Cute.
Just why. WHY UNIVERSE WHY.

10. Movies.
Bangalore Days. Subtitles are available. I never thought I’d
a. watch a Malayalam movie;
b. love it.
Both happened. It’s crazy.
Queen. Watch this. If you don’t understand Hindi, find a version with subtitles. It’s worth it.

January was definitely the better month, but I managed to get through Feb, and now I'm halfway through March! A constant reminder that I can do this. Yay :)

Work Destroys Love

It’s a proven fact. If you incorporate something that you love into your work, you will start to hate it. Take, for example, the movie Avengers. It is one of my friend’s favouritest movies ever. A few weeks ago, for a film production class, she had to watch the movie, break it up into three definitive acts, and summarise each Act. By the time she finished her assignment, she almost hated the movie, and she could never watch it the same way again.

In one of my classes this semester, we were assigned Neil Gaiman’s American Gods as a text. I remember almost bursting from happiness that first day when I saw it on the syllabus. I love Neil Gaiman’s work, and American Gods is particularly brilliant. Studying it in class was wonderful, especially because I got to read it all over again and laugh and cry and curse and enjoy every bit of it. Then came essay assignments. And I couldn’t think of a single idea. And even with my mum’s help, I was still lost. To the point where one night I broke down and cried and felt like a complete loser. And finally signed up to go see a counsellor because my anxiety and depression was just building up and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could go on this way.

And now, now I cannot look at American Gods without thinking of that night or of the class where we had to present our essay ideas and thesis to the rest of the students and how I was so confused that I didn’t really even know what I was trying to say. I cannot think of the novel because it reminds me that I still have that essay to write and I am so completely clueless on that front and it just brings back that day standing in front of the class and just blathering on because I had no idea what to say


My point here is that if you love something and want to continue loving it and enjoying it, don’t let it become a part of your study or work. Because you might find that now you hate it or dread it, and now it is ruined for you.

A lovely spring day

It's a beautiful (and I mean beeyouteefull) day outside. Key word here being "outside".

I'm stuck inside my room, thanks to midterms. And normally I wouldn't mind so much. Only my room is a mess. My roommate's side is always a mess, she's a slob. But today my side is messy too. I didn't have time to make my bed because I overslept. And I normally leave my coat and scarf on the corner once I get back. And I keep my folder and textbooks I may need on the side beside my desk so it's within easy reach. And since I have a paper tomorrow, I need to work. So my bed is unmade, I have all of that^ dumped wherever I found place, and it is almost physically causing me pain.

LOOK HOW MESSY MY BED IS *bursts into tears*

There's gorgeous sunlight streaming in through the window, but I can only see more clearly how dusty the floor is and for the life of me I cannot understand where the dust is from, considering it's been too cold to open the windows.

And then there's noise. I don't know when I became this way or if I was always this way but didn't realise it: I need quiet. The boys in the room beside mine are laughing and talking loudly and it is frustrating. My roommate loves having the TV on even if she's not really watching it. And if she is watching, it's usually utter bullshit like Fashion Police that makes me want to tear my hair out. I can hear people on the street. I'm seven floors up and I can hear people talking and whistling on the street. How?

And doors. I can hear doors banging shut all down the corridor whenever someone enters or leaves and why. can't. people. be. gentle.? My roommate does this all the time and it either startles me so dreadfully that I jump, or it gets on my nerves and irritates me. All I ask of this entire goddamn floor is that you shut the door GENTLY behind you. It IS possible. I do it every single time. So why can't you? Basic goddamn courtesy.

Obviously the beautiful spring day is only limited to the world outside.