16 Apr 2017

trysdyn: (Default)
It's 01:30. I had intended to go to bed half an hour ago as my sleep schedule is still on the mend from being particularly irresponsible over the past few weeks, but I also have the desire to just write something. I should be working on the story stuff, but I almost feel like over-planning is a thing that'd hurt the creative process just as much as under-planning, and I have a very solid and extensive outline of the serial and how I want it to go down. Furthermore, I don't want to do any real work at the moment, so there! :P

Just working with a social journaling system again has brought up some rather interesting memories centered around when and how I used LiveJournal. One particular such memory involves my last days at UCF and sitting up at 6am reading back over old posts and writing one about not knowing the path my life was on and feeling extremely out of control and directionless. For anyone who doesn't know (not that anyone reads this drek yet), I lasted 3 terms at UCF and then was placed on academic dismissal for low grades. This didn't happen because I lacked aptitude, but because I found "Finding myself" to be a far better use of my time after 17 years of hyper-religious upbringing from my parents and private school-- a story for another time to be sure.

At the time I was unsure I'd made the right decisions. Failing was, obviously, no help but at the same time I had filled the time I would have been in class and studying with an immense amount of social, emotional, spiritual and *ahem* sexual growth that I would have missed out on if I had been studious. A better balance could have been struck, but in retrospect I think those events lined up to make a me that is a far better me than the one that would have stuck to the books.

My navel-gazing at the time didn't last long though. Another memory of those times: the night before the semester closed, I was messaged by a friend I had made at a local anime event. He had quietly carried the torch for a lady in the same group, and had confided in me this a few times over our time together. He wanted to tell her during her birthday party that night, but events conspired to not let him go, so he asked me to give him a ride. Now, I know... if not then, he would have had ample other opportunities to break the news to her, so it's not like some movie fairy tale where I swooped in and saved true love when all hope was lost-- still, it was quite exciting to haul ass down the highway, with half my stuff already packed in the back of the van, to get him there on time.

I wonder if they hit it off and how they're doing now. I like to think I got them to connect and they forged a relationship and sometimes think of me now. I lost contact with them shortly after I moved away.

Diversion aside, soon after that I decided Computer Science and a life as a coder wasn't for me. I liked being a maverick too much; couldn't regiment myself properly to work in a team, under a project manager, on a project. This is a conclusion I would have reached one way or another, but let's just say failing out of UCF was no harm done and the separation from my roots did a lot for my growth. This was a pretty expensive way to "Branch out" with nothing concrete to show for it, but I'm grateful for the experience.

To cap off the story: part of my explorations at UCF eventually led me to meeting the local furry fandom, which led to meeting furry types nationally, which led to forming some relationships that gave me the ability to move and try a life in California. This was literally a demo basis: my home-life in Florida was in shambles and they worked to find me a job and a place to stay to see if I did better in a different locale. Needless to say, I never left California, so I suppose that worked out for the best. Again, that wouldn't have happened if I'd stuck to the books at UCF.

These retrospectives though... Of course I'm going to say "I turned out okay", because I don't know for certain what the other side of the fence really looks like. Maybe if I'd finished the CS program I would have found a great job and been happy; who knows. All I know is how I ended up so far ain't that bad and I can't really imagine any major point being different, and I only carry one or two major life regrets-- and they're not related to my education.

What's the point of all of this rambling? Not much. I felt like waxing reminiscent I guess. I do that quite frequently on late, quiet nights. Is there a moral? College ain't everything? I guess that's it; but most people are realizing that without my long-winded retrospectives. :)