Monday

I have five assignments due in the next two weeks- oh the pleasure of a semester concluding. These essays are weighing heavy on my mind, so much to research and write, and yet I decide it is the perfect time to open a Gmail account and start a blog about...well...anything.

I dont care if not one person reads it- thats not the point. I think I am trying to release stress...so much so that after I finished my Writing for the Media class I went to the mall and tried swim wear on in a surf shop instead of starting an assignment. I know its winter. I'm just dreaming of summer. It was hard not to when the floral designs on cotton dresses and bikinis could almost bring forth the saltyness of the ocean across your face in a cool breeze, or when the mellow melodies of Jack Johnson were enclosing me in a realm of an easy dreamy haze...but here I am now, three hours later putting off the work I have to do yet again. Are deadlines not motivation enough!? what is wrong with me...

My flatmate just made fried rice with spices of traditional dishes of his home country, India. It was good. Exotic...which brings me back around to my problem of procrastination...I would so rather be finishing my book right now, Scar Tissue by Anthony Kiedis and Larry Sloman. After almost a week of owning it, I am three quarters of the way through, which leads to another story of my procrasty ways...last tuesday I had just as many assignments to crack on to, but no, I did not put pen to paper and rough it out, I bought yet another book I had been eyeing up for quite sometime at Paperplus and made the mistake of reading the first page before I started my work. I couldn't put it down for two and a half hours.

The turbulent autobiography of a rock star was not easy to distract myself from...it completely immerses you! Anthony (we are on first name terms) has had quite an amazing life. It's all you expect and more from the lead singer of one of the most loved bands in the world, the Red Hot Chili Peppers. The detailed details urge you to pull the book closer to your eyes as to make sure u don't miss a word. From his accounts of sex and past lovers to the mechanics of the band, it really feels like your reading something personal, like the diary of the man himself, letting you in on secrets...