I like to make it a point to constantly question everything I do. On the one hand, it's because I have an innate curiosity about myself and the world around me. On another hand, I like to do it to force myself to think outside the box, assuming the 'box' is either something with which I'd prefer to disagree, or else something I don't like, or else something that just needs to be thought outside of. And on a final hand, I can be extremely lazy; sometimes it's easier to constantly question than it is to actually do something. If my life was a ship out at sea, graduate school would be the large monster that lurks beneath, ready to wrap its tentacles around my ship, break the masts, and then swallow the captain whole. I'm exaggerating. He might just tear off a few of the captain's limbs, you know, because he's on a diet.

Two weeks have gone by in this, my second semester of graduate school. Having spent, oh 90% of my life in some form of school or other, you might say I'm weary of the system. And this weekend, as I do from time to time, I found myself wondering if getting my master's degree in speech is really what I want to be doing. I mentioned this to Robert, and he was like DUH, and pointed out that school isn't forever, and the life and opportunities once I've completed said monstrous education is where I want to be. And then I realize that this semester is already flying by, and before I know it, I'll have completed a whole year of graduate school.

The process of classes and such is not exactly my cup of tea. I've developed a strong distaste for sitting and memorizing facts--which I've never gotten to verify as factual for myself, other than being told so by the professor and the textbook(s) I haven't even bought--that I'll forget as soon as exams are over. I suppose this is mostly just a means to an end, and hopefully along the way, I wind up smarter and/or more knowledgeable than I was when I began.

And then, tonight, I'm studying up on some notes for my voice disorders class, and it occurs to me that a lot of that angry punk rock music I listen to has singers who scream a lot. I pulled out a DVD I recently got from punk-hardcore rockers A Day To Remember and started watching the documentary about their recording their show live. I skip through until I reach the part where they interview the singer about his singing style, as he both sings and screams for the band. I watch the five-minute clip of the singer's interview and the respective parts where he demonstrates his singing compared to his screaming, and how he takes care of his voice and prepares himself to perform. I'm fixated on the screen, fascinated by how this guy uses his voice.

It's then that I realize just how incredibly nerdy this behavior is, and I know that, yeah, I'm on the right track.