... I suppose I disappeared almost completely for about eight months.

I went off to univeristy at UBC in British Colombia in September and it sort of consumed my life. Or my life consumed it (at least I hope so considering how much I'm paying for it). BC is pretty much on the other side of the country from where I live. I, being my usual self, marched right up to the whole prospect of going to school thousands of miles away, where I knew absolutely no one and would be living essentially on my own, with a kick-ass-and-take-no-prisoners kind of attitude. I had heard people say that that kind of transition was difficult, but, you know, they were weak mortals, and I was not.

It was hard. Not in the drink yourself into a coma in the first week way, because that's not my thing (I actually went most of the first term without drinking at all), but even though everything was going well for the most part, I was slowly grinding myself down to a stressed out, over-exposed, over-caffeinated pile of mush. I threw myself headlong into a few circumstances without anything to hold onto. The closest I've ever come to my breaking point was walking out of the hospital after a very unpleasant blood test to determine whether I had mono or not (coincidentally also the week I had final papers due and right before exams). Not a fun sickness. Don't try it.

That was first term. While most of it was exciting, it definitely took my whole "I can handle anything" attitude down a notch. by second term I had established a group of friends who I know are going to be really close to me throughout my life and I had decided that it was time to seriously chill out. I guess I was finally starting to internalize the laid back west coast vibe, something that you don't really notice until you go back somewhere else. The ironic thing is that even though I wasn't worrying about every single little thing, I was doing just as well marks wise and I was able to deal with whatever was thrown at me socially with a clearer head.

As much as I hate to admit it those cliches you're told about going off to university and finding yourself are more or less true. Except that they forget to mention that you have to completely lose yourself first.

I was trying to tell this to my friends little sister when she came to stay with me for a couple days and see the university. She was coming from the exact same situation as me; same choice between a school close to home and one far away, same interests at school, same attitude. It was a little eerie, like I was talking to myself from the future or something. But of course she was just like me, and I don't consider that a bad thing anymore. I don't regret my choice at all, and I kind of see now that some choices have to be made partially blind to the negatives that come with it. You may not run from pain, but you don't run to it either.

Art wise I did a lot of traditional stuff, about one drawing or painting a month. None of them were in a sketchbook so I decided to put them in storage instead of risking ruining them on the way home. I'm gonna try spew as many pieces out as I can this summer between work and sleep. To be honest I've lost any affection or attachment I used to have for the city my parents live in, so staying in every night and drawing doesn't seem like that grim a prospect.