One thing I like about growing up is realizing how complex everyone's lives really are.

As a kid you see the world and you often wonder why things are the way they are. Why is aunt so-and-so not married? Why did the couple next door never have kids? Why does so-and-so work a minimum wage job at thirty? Why did the couple across the street get divorced? Why did so-and-so have to move away?

They're mundane things, really, and as a kid they don't mean anything to you. Because they don't concern you. But you wonder.

But as you get older, become an adult, so much more becomes clear.

You see your friends and acquaintances in these situations. And some how it all makes sense.

You might never know why things are the way they are. But you can make guesses. Because you yourself probably fit into one of those mystery adult categories.

And somehow, no matter how painful or difficult things get, everything is a lot more interesting.

And then, one-by-one, they told her, in their own ways, that she was mediocre.

And the seeds of doubt were planted.

It's February and a foot of snow has just fallen.


It's a gentle storm. You take my hand.


It's late and I have to go home soon, but we decide to go to your apartment anyway. Just for a bit.


You start running through the heaps of snow, so we can get there faster. So we can have more time.


This is my favourite memory of you.

New School, New Life...?

And so I've started a new school. For those of you who didn't know, as of a few weeks ago, I began a whole new journey at Bunka Fashion College. Which I guess is pretty cool.

If you had asked me about a year and a half ago where I thought I'd be at this point in life, this would honestly have been the last thing I would have come up with.

It's not that I didn't want to ever pursue a life in fashion, but I guess I just didn't expect to go back to school. Unless of course it was to go to grad school, and even there, I don't think I seriously would have expected I'd want to apply to that either. But here we are. At Bunka.

So far, it's been pretty fun, I guess. It isn't unicorns and rainbows, and it's only been a couple of weeks so I can't say we've gotten too far, but when we're actually working on making things, I'm not gonna lie, it's wonderful. It makes me super happy, even if I have to redo stitching, erase patterns, and start all over again. I really enjoy making shit, which is great.

However, it isn't easy. And I'm not talking about the actual content per se. But it's 100% in Japanese. Which isn't anything surprising. I mean, I knew that full on when I applied. But still. That aspect is hard. 

Because I don't understand everything that goes on. There are times when I understand so little of what the teacher is talking about. Or other times, when I understand everything, until the teacher explains what is and isn't to be handed in. And then it's like someone flipped a switch in my head, and the part that understands Japanese turns off completely. And I'm confused as all hell.

At the same time, I'm not the first foreign student to go to Bunka. And with my very white features, I absolutely stand out in the crowd, so I hope to God that my teachers are at least a little lenient about things (and the quality of my written works) because if not there's no way I'm going to pass this year. And that stresses me out to no end.

I know it's just the beginning, and in theory, even though the content will become more difficult, the ability to follow and understand should become easier. But I'm not gonna lie, I'm scared to hand in anything. I'm scared of what they'll think when they see the way I write. And I sorta freak out every time I'm made to speak in class.

But I guess at the same time, it's part of growing up, right? Because if you look at any of my ID cards you'll know that I'm old enough to be a "grown up", whatever that means. So I shouldn't worry about the small stuff. I should be happy that I've come this far, and not give a shit about people will think.

But I can't help it.

In other news, I really can't wait to buy me some sewing machines! (Yes, some, cause apparently I need two? Hello poor student life!) I can't wait to make things! And maybe try and sell things too! I wanna go on a shopping spree at the school shop! It's like a craftsman's dream come true!! Everything you'd ever need or want in the same spot! Happiness and joy~!

By the way, this is how I feel about being 24, for the record lol

Graduation and 311

And so I graduated from KCP. As expected, I cried like a motherfucker. But I'm not going to lie, I was pretty much doomed from the start.

An old classmate and I were chosen to emcee a part of the ceremony, and so we had to show up earlier that day to practice our spiel. Because we were part of the show, that morning the teachers decided to show us the video that they had prepared for the ceremony, because we wouldn't be able to see it well from behind the curtains. Although they meant well, the video itself made me just sort of break down, and the entire practice session that followed was just a big teary mess. Luckily my partner was a really great guy, and pretty much took care of me the entire day.

Although I was able to put myself back together in time for the graduation itself, the second we all sat down in the big auditorium, and the official school people started giving their speeches, somehow I lost my control and just started crying again, on and off the entire ceremony.

Now, on the outside, I'm sure I just looked like some weird oversensitive girl, crying for some bizarre reasons at something that wasn't really all that sad to begin with. But there was a lot more behind it.

I started school at KCP in January 2011, and roughly two months after I started my first semester, the earthquake happened, and everything I thought about life changed completely. I was at school that day. And if it wasn't for the teachers and staff, I don't know how I would have survived emotionally on the day of the earthquake, or the many days to follow. The teachers stayed with us during the many aftershocks, and some of them that were stranded stayed with the students overnight. The man who eventually became my main teacher for six months guided my entire dorm home by foot that night, a journey that took almost three hours in the cold. Without him, I would have had to stay overnight as well, and although I didn't know what was going to be waiting for me back home, the fact that I could even go home made everything just a little less terrifying.

Following March 11th, classes were made optional and everybody left. Everybody. I continued to go to class because that was all I could do to keep my life somewhat normal, in a world that had literally lost all sense of stability. I had almost no friends left, almost no housemates, absolutely no family, and was emotionally cut off from the world. And throughout the months that followed, going to school was one of the only things that kept me sane.

So graduating from KCP wasn't just graduating from a language school. For me, it was leaving behind all the people who helped me through the most difficult period of my life.

So even though I'm absolutely the type to get emotional at any sort of parting of ways, somehow I had never had such an emotionally charged ending before. And so there was no way I wasn't going to cry.

みんな、お疲れさまでした〜！卒業おめでとうございます！また会いましょう♡

もう独りで歩けない

L'éclipse

I've fallen in love once again. With a song.

No reason to explain how or why. Just listen to it and be happy.

(Though, not gonna lie, my new love for this song is totally thanks to Akane, who reminded me of Mathieu Chedid's existence in one of her own blog posts last week or so. Sankyuuuu~! ♡)

In other news, today I was asked to be one of the MC's at our graduation ceremony on Friday. As much as I have pretty much no time to prepare for it, I've gotten sort of used to talking at these events, that I wasn't going to say no. Plus, I'm pretty much continuing my role from this summer's Speech Contest, so I guess everyone will be happy to see me on stage again.

This will be my third graduation ceremony at which I speak. I was the valedictorian in high school, the salutatorian in CEGEP, and now some sort of comic relief this time around. As much as I'm worried I might just cry in front of everyone (which would be horrible), it's always kind of nice to be asked to do such things. And they wrote the script for me, so there's almost no effort to be put in. Yay.