The Sandpit

The Sandpit from Sam O'Hare on Vimeo.

Tiltshift photograph still continues to blow my fucking mind. I have yet to have a real grasp on how it's done, but it's amazing.

I've been stressing quite a bit lately, which is ironic because for a written part of my spanish class I wrote that I don't get stressed easily. I should have said my stress seems to pile on when I'm at my weakest, like a cold followed by a aches and pains as germs kick me while I'm down.

I was asked the other day by my counselor...my COUNSELOR if I really wanted to go into Literary Journalism because I'm struggling in one of the classes. That question rattled me. I braced myself for so long waiting to hear that question from my mom, but since my mom was okay with it, I let my guard down and it hit me anyway. So thanks for that vote of confidence UCI. Raise my fees. Reject me from becoming a CA. Hire people who question student's choice of major. Keep it coming. Really, I don't mind.

It's really cool to finally, after hearing questions from your parents and yourself!, think you have a future in something and let it come crashing down.

Perhaps it's because I'm getting down to the wire with having to declare.
Perhaps I should reconsider what I'm majoring in.
Perhaps I shouldn't let one person's questioning bring me down.

I'll go with the third choice.



If all else fails, I will be declaring myself as a Film and Media major for now and then switch into LJ or just stay in Film and Media and minor in English or something else.

Either way, a couple days ago I was literally sick to my stomach due to stress. I've never felt that way before and I don't want to feel that way again.



wildwombat