The definition of insanity is continuing to do the same thing over and over, and then expecting different results.

You've probably figured it out by now, but we're done here. It's a hard thing for me to write after all of this time, but I suppose it needs to be said. I had been wanting to log in and write a final post for a few weeks now, but have stopped myself because I wanted it to be this grand and beautiful entry that would take this blog out on a high note. Having never felt up to it, I now realize that I'm just going to have to write what I need to say and accept it.

I haven't felt happy with this blog in a long time. Things had become stale, and I felt like I was just writing entries for the sake of making sure there was something written every night. The utter meaninglessness of it did not escape me. If you don't have anything to say, why still open your mouth and make a noise? If you don't have anything to write, why waste a half hour of your time every night coming up with shitty filler just so you can keep a record going? It took me a long time to arrive at my decision. I've gone through slumps before in my blogging, and I eventually waited them out until I beat my writer's block. But the slumps were lasting longer, and my periods of productive writing and good entries were starting to become flashes in a pan. The blog had become a burden, but because of my emotional attachment to it, I bore that burden silently. We've been through so much, this blog and I! It's not easy to turn your back on it.

But I do believe it's for the best. As hard as it is to do sometimes, you need to let go of the things that begin to hold you back if you wish to continue growing. This blog was clearly not working for me anymore, and I found it counter-intuitive to attempt to fix the problem by trying the exact same thing over and over again. There were so many new changes in my life going on, that I felt like it was finally an appropriate time to move on. It was nice to do so on my own terms.

These last few weeks without blogging have been strange and rife with changes. At the beginning of the year, I would have never predicted what my life would become only ten months later, but here we are. It's nice not having that burden of updating every night. I find that I get much more sleep every night, and I no longer have to experience those pains of guilt whenever I phone in an entry. I have few doubts remaining that ending this blog was the right idea.

Still, blogging is part of who I am at this point, and not doing it for this amount of time has had its difficulties. I often found myself storing away ideas and observations that could potentially make for good blog entries. When the Twins swept the Sox and then lost the title to them five days later, I yearned to write about my feelings on the matter. Also, my ideas are starting to get all jumbled in my head. I've been thinking more about life and art and human nature and other bullshit like that in these past few weeks than I have all year. Every day I'm working through these things in my head and coming up with these great ideas or questions or revelations and having nowhere to put them. They all stay up in my head and are now running into each, getting mixed up and forgotten. I can't even think straight I've got so much going on in my head these days. The problem is that this blog was my outlet for those ideas. Once I laid an idea out on paper, I could stop storing it up in my head. Without that outlet, my head has felt like it's going to explode with thoughts and theories and ideas. What has been made increasingly clear to me over these past few weeks is that I need to blog, but that my current blogging style was no longer healthy or sustainable for me.

I'm moving onwards. I've been here for two and half years. Two and a half years! Do you know what that is internet time!? That's like, 100 blog years. When I got into the game, nobody blogged everyday, let alone for two and a half years. Blogging meant something different back then than it does now. The internet evolves at such a rapid pace, that it is no wonder livejournal and my method of blogging have both long since become outdated. I wrote about tumblr when it first came out, and even then recognized that it was quite possibly the future of personal-use blogging. More cutting-edge kids than I rode the first wave of tumblr blogs, and I watched them to see what would come of it. That time has only confirmed my suspicions: if Curt Baker can keep with a single blog this long, it must be doing something seriously right. In all seriousness though, tumblr is what I need right now. It's going to allow me to continue posting my thoughts and observations about my life, as well as cool shit I find on the internet, but in a much more convenient and sustainable way. I'm not turning my back on blogs, I'm simply upgrading. And you're all invited to join me:

http://ghostsdonotscareme.tumblr.com
http://twitter.com/scottolstad

As optimistic as I am about my future (with blogging at least), it's with great sadness that I write this final entry on my livejournal. I've literally written hundreds of thousands of words on this blog over the past two and a half years of daily entries. I've written about my thoughts on everything from my high school graduation and leaving for college for the first time to not wanting drumapalooza to end a month ago. I've grown so much through our years spent together, and though I can't say the same for livejournal, it has been a loyal companion the entire way.

Finally, thank you all for reading. On my very first entry back on May 17th, 2006, I wrote that this blog was going to be for you, the reader and not for me. I clearly didn't keep the promise all the time, but you've still stuck through it with me anyway. I wouldn't have kept writing if it wasn't for all of you, so thank you. I've gotten so much out this blog over the past two and a half years, I couldn't even being to articulate it to you, and hopefully you did too. Without you, none of this would have been possible. I'm sorry for leaving you in the lurch this past few weeks. That wasn't the right thing to do to the people who've stuck by me for so long, but I hope that you'll forgive me and continue to join me in my future endeavors. It wouldn't be the same without you. For as much as this blog was a product of mine, it was also a product of yours. You've contributed every step along the way, and I almost feel like I don't have the right to decide to end this blog my own, because this wasn't just mine, it was ours. Thank you again for your time, your energy and your love. I promise to all of you who have stuck with me: if you keep reading, I'll keep writing.

For the final time:
:o:

Tommy Rousse is cooler than me, and I have problems going to bed on time? Anyway, this was from his blog.

:o:

I kinda forgot.

So, I need your suggestions. I'm moving into my room in Xanadu tomorrow and one of the first orders of business is to paint the mother fucker. I need suggestions about what to do. The most obvious choice is just picking some solid colors (which I would lean towards something blue). However, I'm open to other AWESOME suggestions. For example, this link got me thinking. Now I'm not sure I'm talented enough to do what those kids did, and I doubt whether I'd want to look at that everyday for the next year, but it gives me ideas, ya know? I also have a wood grain desk and dresser that I'm also willing to paint. So hit me with some good ideas. The only other things I have in my room are a blue built-in closet and a bed with a dark blue comforter.

:o:

It's officially gameday, which means that I'm about six hours from waking up and suiting up in my uniform for the first time of the year. I am psyched. Over two weeks of hard work finally comes to head and we see if we're prepared enough. It's gonna be great, even if it is supposed to rain all day tomorrow. I talk about band too much now, but got nothing else to talk about. So. Um. What do you think of the new facebook?

I like it.

:o:

Lately, it seems like I've been starting entires, or at least tempted to start entries, with "kids: blank." I use the term "kids" frequently as in "they're good kids" or "kids, I'm tired tonight." I don't actually mean anything by it, I even use it for people older than me. I use it more as a term of endearment, as something to just call people. Just letting you know that I'm not using it in a derogatory fashion (that would be "children).

Anyway, let me tell you something that I have told you every day for the last several weeks: my life is drums. My Kotaku feed is past 500 unread items. I really couldn't care less about video games or current events or anything else that I cared about two weeks ago. It's just drums. Hanging out with my drumline/marching band friends and listening to music at night still interest me. Not much else, really. Sleep I guess. That's all I need right now. It's so fucking fantastic, but also weird to look at that Kotaku feed and think "hm, that doesn't interest me at all right now."

Let me tell you another weird thing I realized. For the past two years, but increasingly over the past nine months, I've been growing increasingly dissatisfied with Northwestern University as an institution to the point where I didn't want to return this year. I thought of transferring or differing for a few quarters, but I came back for the drumline. Two weeks into band, and I can't imagine ever feeling that way about the school. Really, if I sat down and forced myself to think about it, I'd still have all those problems with the school, and I'm sure that, come winter quarter, I'll go right back to hatin' on NU, but for the next few months, I'm looking forward to having the most school spirit on campus. There's just something about being in marching band and loving Northwestern that go hand in hand. You can't really have one without the other. There's just so much spirit and pride that it's infections and you have to cheer the 'cats and wear purple and love seeing that sculpted N. It's the superficial things that you take pride in and love. So while the real problems still remain under the surface, that's where they get to stay for the next few months as I live a few blissfully ignorant months focused solely on drums.

It'll be interesting to see how assimilation back into normal life will go.

:o:

Kids, these weeks haven't been good for blogging! Why didn't I just get some friends to write guest blog entries? Why haven't I yet? Why am I still trying to uphold some facade of posting an entry every night when most of the time they're just shit? Why don't I have any motivation to write entries right now? Is it because I don't do anything all day but drum? If I put a band-aid on my thumb, would those small nicks from holding the mallet too hard stop stinging? Why didn't I wear sunscreen tomorrow? Is this shit going to tan or just peel off? Is pre-game going to turn out ok this Saturday? Am I ever going to play the fucking cadences clean? Is all of the fun I'm having in marching band going to go away when school starts? Will I be able to balance a normal life when all I want to do is play drums all day and hack all night and nothing else? Where am I coming up with all these questions? What else do I want to know? Why isn't it a big deal anymore that today is September 11th? Hasn't it only been seven years? Doesn't it seem like the day has lost a lot of it's weight, that we don't really do anything on that date anymore? How do I feel about that?

I don't think it's a bad thing.

I was sitting on the lakefill today. I stole a bunch of food from breakfast, and during lunch, instead of heading to the cafeteria, I took my drums and my food and set up on the coast of Lake Michigan. I played for the next hour facing the lake and the Chicago skyline by myself. It's in the running at this point for highlight of these past two weeks. As I sat eating my lunch on one of the rocks along the coast, a small plane flew over my head towards Chicago. I thought briefly as it approached the skyline about how the world would change if it flew into a building. Maybe the Hancock, or the Sears. I was sitting on this rock in the sun with my shirt off and an apple in my hand, without a soul in sight. The weather was beautiful, and besides the waves and the dim roar of the plane's engine, there wasn't a single disturbance around me. So calm and peaceful, and if that plane hit that building, I figured I'd still have a good ten minutes before that went away. I could literally watch my entire world change before my eyes in the distance, I could see that plane hit that building and know that my life in Chicago (or even in America) would never be the same, but even then, I thought to myself that I would just keeping eating that apple. I'd sit and enjoy those last few minutes before it all went to hell.

I know that's not really the most interesting thought or anything, but it's the only part of my day that hasn't been DIGGADIGGADIGGADIGGADIGGADIGGADIGGADIGGADIGGADIGGADIGGADIGGADIGGA.

:o: