no. 11: meanderings

I'm not truly sure how my mind works these days. I got a blog because I was tired of the blog formats at other places such as MySpace, and actually liked the idea of the internet anonymity. Granted, as always I am bound to be found by someone who knows me eventually... But regardless, not my point tonight. My point tonight is that I got a blog, and suddenly I don't feel like 'talking.' Or, perhaps it's not that I don't feel like talking, I just never get anywhere coherent these days. My mind wanders like someone lost in a vast, meandering Zoo... like the time I went to the Zoo in Berlin (first day in Germany) because I KNEW I wouldn't have to talk to anyone at the zoo. ha! see what I mean, I'm not trying to talk about the zoo, but there I go talking about the zoo... Vast meandering zoos are great because you can walk a path and stop at just about any point, only to find yourself with five options for new paths to take. That is approximately what my mind is like these days.

This meandering thought process has led to the start and near completion of a lovely turquoise calorimetry for a darling friend of mine, the starting of what will be a very time consuming (but hopefully gorgeous) lace nightie from the free lingerie patterns in the Spring 2007 Interweave Knits, and most of one mitten. All of this, mind you, has been started since I've decided I ought to buckle down and do some serious work on my thesis. My thesis of "beautiful data" according to my supervisors. My thesis that WILL NOT write itself, no matter how much I try and convince it to...

And, all in the same breath - it is, after all, only the 17th of January - I am trying to convince myself that 2008 will be a good year full of productivity and change. Productivity, I hope, in the thesis writing department, although knitting productivity is also good, just not of primary importance; and change hopefully in the thesis department... primarily in the form of "I will finish my thesis and graduate this year." This year is going to be a mountain of change. Whether or not the roaring noise in my head and all the surrounding headaches amount to anything more than some nasty migraines, the rest of my life is going to change momentously this year. I moved last summer, and my lease will be up in another 5 1/2 months. I doubt I will be staying on here, in this cute, "very me" house (according to my friends). While I love living in this neighbourhood, I don't particularly love living with my roommate, and the house is leaving much to be desired, most particularly modern windows that actually insulate. I'm not sure I'm prepared for the step of finding more roommates to live with, or living with a friend, but I know I need change, and perhaps I'll be able to find a small walk-up or something amenable to my income that doesn't involve me being the only person to shovel the sidewalks or mow the lawn. But moving aside, other changes are inevitable. One cannot be a student forever - at least not in this day and age - and my MSc is rather palpably drawing to a close, if only I could get my butt in gear and write! And thus, with that, (6 months ought to seal the deal on both house and thesis, I hope!), I am... off to the races? I don't know. I'm not sure what I'm going to do. Like the Berlin Zoo, I have the rather distinct feeling that I shall just come to a stop on my path and find myself with five different paths to choose from as I decide to walk onwards.

So, I don't know. Perhaps I'll end up visiting the Hippos for a spell, if only because it's a warm place to stand, and the large, lumbering beasts are kind of interesting to watch. Or maybe I'll head off in search of strange breeds of livestock at the back of the Zoo compound only to find myself face to face with all the animals I am so accustomed to seeing - being from Canada, I suppose what's familiar to me might not be to a German zoo-goer - that nothing is new or exciting except the surprise of finding such a familiar face in such a different location. Or maybe I'll be drawn in by a gaggle of bird cages, their unique calls and flashy feathers enticing me, only to find, hidden just behind them, the most exciting of all, the vast and wondrous elephant exhibit, replete with dexterous trunks and glorious trumpeting calls. Or maybe I'll just set myself down on a bench overwhelmed with choices and fear that I'm not going to make the right one... wishing I'd picked up the visitor guide map at the entrance like everyone else, instead of trying to decipher signposts written in another language.

My mind, and my life, it would seem, are like a vast, meandering old zoo. And now, all I can think of are the beautiful carpets of brown leaves that laid across the paths at the Berlin zoo when I visited in November, 2005. A chilly time to visit an outdoor attraction, I know, but I was never one for convention, and it sure beats trying to hustle through the crowd of summer tourists in uncomfortably hot and sticky temperatures.