Maybe you should just drink a lot less coffee, and never ever watch the ten'o clock news....

And so just when you thought I had completely forgotten about this, I come back in typical rambling fashion to prove you wrong.
Who "you" are exactly, I'm still unsure.
But I am, in fact, going to make another half assed attempt at reviving this thing. In order to motivate myself to do so, I've changed the template up, but that's still a work in progress. The code isn't doing exactly what I want it to...
It's not as though I still haven't been writing. I have. Just, not here. I've nearly filled another notebook since I last posted here. That is just how much has been going on.
I'm not going to recap everything, that will take far too long. We'll list the main points:
1) I started university. It rocks, I enjoy it thoroughly, and would highly recommend it, despite the amount of swearing it seems to induce.
2) The boy and I broke up. I won't get into the details, but it ended because it had to, and that is that.
3) I'm now back at home for winter break.
Yes, back at home. Getting here was an adventure and a half, involving one bus to Toronto, a great trek across Toronto, and the world's longest wait in an airport. Yesterday truly was a day of waiting. While waiting, I wondered about waiting. About whether we as humans, or maybe just me in particular, spend so much time waiting for what could possibly happen, that we sometimes neglect to fully experience that which is currently happening. When you think about it, we are always waiting for something, whether it is simply a bag of microwave popcorn, or what could be the greatest moment of our lives. And I wondered if maybe, some eighty years from now on my deathbed, I will look back on my life, and regret the vast amount of time I spent waiting for something which I was certain I would be part of to happen instead of partaking in that which I was already part of. This was a good way to pass the time while waiting at the airport. Then, I got to wait on the plane, while it was de-iced, and while what seemed like an infinite number of other planes took off. After a solid hour (which felt like a solid eternity), we finally took off.
And, just like every time I fly, there was a moment where the plane wobbled, and I was suddenly and painfully aware of the sound of the engines, of just how fast the ground outside of my window was zooming by, and I couldn't help but think who thought that this was a good idea. But then, just like every time I fly, the ground fell away, my ears popped, and everything seemed fine.
It is intensely weird, being home after being away for four months. Everything seems so different, but still very much the same. Like my room. The bed seems shorter, the walls more yellow, and I must have grown, for everytime I walk through the door, I am smacked square in the face by one of the paper cranes I hung from the ceiling years ago. The air is different too. It is somehow thinner, drier, and smokier. The smokier is especially hard - I had asked my mom about not smoking around me, but that seems to have gone by the wayside. Which, to be honest, I fully knew would happen. Smoking, apparently, is a right, one which is not to be taken away under any circumstance. But that is another conversation altogether.
And so yet again, I find myself waiting, for any number of things. I'm waiting for Emma to call back, for my mom to light another cigarette, as if she truly has forgotten, for my laundry to finish. I'm waiting for Christmas to come and go as it always does, leaving in it's wake a trail of giftwrap, alcohol, and debt just like every year previous. Most of all, I think I'm waiting for January 5th, when I can return to my residence room and feel less like a visitor and more at ease. Although, who knows what will happen in these next three weeks. I suppose I will have to wait and see.