From A Coffee Shop Across The World | connect

NaBloPoMo? More like NaBloPo-every-time-I’m-not-at-maths-or-feeling-like-crap-Mo. Seriously, one of these months, I’m going to have to actually complete one of these challenges. Properly, I mean.

In any case, Hello Internet! I’ve been in this coffee shop for the last three (four?) hours, and I’m beginning to think I’ve overstayed my welcome. I get it, I only bought a small cappuccino but it was my SECOND coffee of the day and I still paid for it. That info aside, I’m writing this now because I’ll be damned if I don’t use the free wifi. (Technically, it’s not free. I paid for it when I paid for my cappuccino. Free. Pah.)

I’ve spent today trying to plan out the next month or two, because I have prelims (huge mock exams that count far too much) starting on August 18th, and I really. Need. To. Get. My. Self. Together.

I thought, after staring at people who walked past me and saw me nursing my coffee, that I might let you all know some things I’ve grown to know about these places. Coffee shops, I mean.

  • I spend too much time in them.

Not even because I like coffee. I mean, I’ve grown to love a cappuccino, but I originally started frequenting all of these places because the internet at my house is unbearably slow. I’m a caffeine girl now. But, just as well, the internet situation at my house has not changed.

  • Strangers! They are funny! And interesting! Unless they kidnap you or take strange photographs!

(I feel like that says enough.)

  • They’re refreshing. In a decaf way.

Call me cliched, but I genuinely adore the noise of coffee shops and the sound of those machine thingies. They do wonders for my thinking. If you enjoy those sounds too, Coffitivity is a GREAT app.

That’s all I can say. My 100MB are about to run out, and I still haven’t posted anything on Instagram.

(the struggle.)

yours,
shalom x

WHERE DOES THE WORD COME FROM|connect

 

I’ve done too much physics today. I hate physics. I’m ready for a language/linguistics lesson. Are you? No? Here’s a angry British guy screaming about the traffic. Strong. Language.

Okay, so my question for the internet after four hours of trying to figure out whether the frequency of the sound made by a police siren, when heard by an observer…heck, I don’t even know what I was doing. It was physics. Something about Doppler. Probably crazy interesting. IF I KNEW A THING ABOUT PHYSICS.

LETTUCE TALK ABOUT THE WORD CONNECT.

So, as most words do, connect comes from from  the Latin connectere, which comes from more Latin: con meaning ‘together’ and  nectere  meaning ‘bind’.

The word connect  itself only came about in late Middle English, with the original definintion being to ‘be united physically’. It was rare before the 18th century, but it also went crazily unused between 1960 and 1980. And then came the dawn of the social networks.

Y’all. Connect got it’s flair back. You know it.

(so can you, shalom. leave this post with whatever flair you pretend to have.)

While there are nine good definitions that google found somewhere withing the 268 000 000 results in 0.21 seconds, I think that the word, sans definition, is great. Maybe I should learn Latin and become the polyglot I’ve always dreamed of being.

Alright. I’ve yelled at trees and played a song that my new lovely blogging (and Facebook) pal Engie introduced to me to 94 times. As in, I’ve listened to it 94 times and developed physics mock exam questions about girls on swings based on it. Here’s the link. (Read the post, too.)

Shalom is retiring. She’s in a strange place – she has a crush on someone you see. And we think she’s gone around the bend. But the best things are a little wonky, aren’t they? (I was going to say the best things aren’t straight but that could be interpreted as offensive and I’m trying not to have to transform into a more of a potato to roll away from situations like that.)

love and light,
shalom x

this counts as two posts because i was kidnapped|connect

I AGED YESTERDAY.

My birthday happened! I am alright! I have lived to seventeen! I’m still quite anxious-y about it all, but give me a week and I’ll be alright. The question at hand is this: kidnapped?

Yes, kidnapped.

By my friends. Yesterday, while everyone was celebrating Murica’s birthday (regardless of whether they understood why), my friends whisked me away and threw a surprise party for me. Oh gosh, a teen girl surprise party, how expected. Except not. You see, for starters, I couldn’t write a post. I was to busy being fed cake and showered with sparklers on said cakes (PLURAL. CAKE-S.) and gifts (and also GIFs). Secondly, I was surprised at the surprise, but I was more surprised at what the friends managed to pull off – they got Sarah.

Sarah? Who’s Sarah?

Sarah is my absolute hjsadjfkghh. I can’t really explain it more than that. I hadn’t seen her in a year and a half (almost to the day) and somehow, they made it happen. It’s a strange thing, when you connect with someone after being away from them for so long, but still feel like you see them every day.

The thing about both Sarah and myself is that we’re not the best with people. It’s very easy for me, at least, to do my best to try and feel comfortable with a new group of people and completely freak out instead. What baffled me was the way Sarah was 900% ALRIGHT. Not because she’s incapable of being fine, but because I was (a) terrified that maybe for some reason she wouldn’t be okay with me due to the fact that I hadn’t laid eyes on her in 18 months (b) much less with other strangers she had never met.

I feel like this has turned into a waffle.

No, not that kind of waffle. The one where I just talk and talk (write and write?) and then lose myself so completely that my train of thought derails. Gone. Pew pew. Explosion.

Thanks for sitting through this. The ABEC is coming to a close. Things are winding down. I am now the owner of high heels. Yikes.

love and light
shalom

 

the day before| connect

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It’s the day/night before the age-a-tron comes to take hold of me!

It’s been exhausting. Today I managed to conduct an interview with several young, powerful black women who are probably going to change the world, get my prom dress fitted, but two dresses for the afterparty (I am unaware of how party things work, as I am in fact a potato.), buy my first! pair! of! heels! and have laughs over noodles and cinnamon tea with my mom and sister.

I’ve easily come into contact with more people today than I have in the past six months.

I swear, these posts are getting shorter and shorter, but I think as soon as the ABEC passes, I’ll be more…regular.

I’m stopping. I have four minutes of sixteen left. Wowowowowowowow.

love and light
shalom

off balance|connect

kendrick6

Same, Kanye.

Okay, so maybe I’m a little bit of a wreck.

Greetings, amigos! While completely missing the fact that it is already the 2nd of July, I managed to almost procrastinate my way into oblivion. I managed to remember that today is not Wednesday, and that I somehow missed roughly nineteen hours. I have no idea how, but I am THOROUGHLY off balance.

Now, there’s something about being completely disconnected from the rest of everything for a while, even if you’re not sure how it happened. In case you were wondering, the NaBloPoMo theme is still connect. Not “recount-your-unimpressive-time-management-woes”.

Being detached makes you -makes me- evaluate things. In a flurry of panic, I tend to have these out of body experiences, in which I’m not involved in the chaos at all – just an observer. I see everything happening, and I guess the powerlessness I experience connects me to the chaos in some way. It’s not an impressive thought or statement – it’s just that not being involved in the craziness while seeing or otherwise experiencing  the craziness is enough to make one part of it.

This has been rambly. Rambly typing while shaking and rambly loud HOW DO I HAVE A DRESS APPOINTMENT TOMORROW thoughts.

Excuse me while I eat cheese curls and marvel at my own inefficiency, because I’ve procrastinated myself into too much of a panic to fix any of the terrible mistakes I’ve made by somehow skipping June 30th. The only thing (probably) that’s going to get me through this is the ridiculously loud volume at which Centuries à la Fall Out Boy is playing in my ears. Bless you, Patrick Stump.

yours,
shalom x

one month later|connect

a pep talk for julyIn all honesty, I’m completely clueless how to go about writing this post. In actual fact, I’m not entirely sure about how this sentence will go; I’m just hoping it turns out okay by the end. Phew. Seems satisfactory.

I’ll be writing a post every day of July this ye– oh, wait: where have you heard that before? Yes. Here. Where NaBloPoMo and NaNoWriMo were both embarrassingly attempted by me. Well, I’ll be doing it. Again. Not the embarrassing part though. I thoroughly intend to finish!

This year’s theme is connect, as you can tell by the snazzy little badge I’ve snagged in the sidebar, and I’m pretty keen to find out what kind of trash (and hopefully, some non-trash) I’ll be spewing for a month. That…that there is a vivid image. Good job, Shalom.

ONTO THE FIRST POST! I haven’t updated this blog in almost exactly a month, and there are many reasons and excuses I could give. June is exam month in South Africa and every day from June 5th onward was a horrible practical joke. At least I hope it was. If it wasn’t, my physics and chemistry exams will let me know (THEY WENT HORRIBLY LIKE BURN THE REPORT CARD BEFORE YOUR MOTHER SEES IT HORRIBLY). Also, I’ve been going through the 7th Annual Birthday Existential Crisis, because I’m ageing soon.

“Gosh, Scoot, you’re so dramatic.”
Yes. Yes I am.

I am also very, very panicked about being older. (If you missed the 6th ABEC, you can catch yourself up here.) I tend to shrink into myself more than I do when I’m alone during this time of year (which is an awful lot, I’ll have you know), so connecting, in a word, becomes difficult. The ABEC forces me to find new ways to deal with things that I’m perfectly equipped to during any time of the year apart from the days between June 20th and July 10th.

I suppose that the extensive number of emails I’ve sent out to American universities (HELLO Bethel College and University of Iowa thank you for replying always except when you don’t :)) counts as some form of connecting- I haven’t failed completely at that.

Worry not friends – I ensure you (at least I hope to everything) that every July post will not be as anxiety ridden and angst filled as I currently am. I feel like I’ll come around. The thing about me, about the things I go through-about the depression and the anxiety and the eating and the school- is that I always get through. I don’t know how, but I do. And I like to think that I always will.

In the words of Luigi:Here we go!

yours, shalom

Write things and dance

I’m not writing a novel.

Yeah, I quit NaNoWriMo 5 days in. Look at me, the best teenager ever!

(jokes)

Okay, so while I really DID try to write some things, I’ve only managed to come up with a couple of nameless complex characters that DO NOT INTERACT WITH EACH OTHER. I think I should preserve them on paper, but I don’t think a novel is the right place for them as of yet.

What I am doing, though, is NaBloPoMo! It really appears that this is what I’ve been doing from the beginning, seeing that you people (INCLUDING THE SUPER COOL VIEWS FROM ROMANIA AND PAKISTAN(!!!)) probably had no clue I writing -attempting to write, rather- a novel.

I wrote a math exam today, and the world did not end! It wasn’t good, but it wasn’t GODTHATWASAWFULTHROWMEINATRASHBAG bad. Progress!

I’m writing an Afrikaans exam (additional language) and I haven’t glanced at a book in 3 days. In the words of a screwed teenage girl:

Crap.

Here’s Taylor Swift dancing to some music that she loves a lot. Be happy if you can, friend. Your cells in your body love you a lot, even when it feels like nobody else does.

Love,

Scoot X

 

A Walk & Some Thoughts

Just to clear something up real quick: I posted this thing last night with thoughts and pictures and jokes but then it deleted itself. So, thuis is what you get now. Sorry, friends.


 

I went for a walk, stole some flowers and panicked about my history exam. Pictures:

Consciously yours & consciously sorry,
Shalom X