stuck in the snow

It's very cold

Friday, April 29, 2005


Yesterday I was so tired, the whole week had been nights of late bed times but the day before I ended up going to bed at 2:30 to finish my essay (which wasn't due till Friday but my teacher docks a lot of marks if you don't have your rough drafts in). When I woke up I decided that I was much too tired to function so I told my mom that I wasn't feeling well and snuggled back into my warm cozy bed. I woke up about two hours later feeling nice and refreshed so I decided I should probably go to school. I got ready, and my mom drove me there at about 10:00, half an hour late for gym class but she wrote me a note that would "validate my absence". It wasn't that big of a deal anyway, we were only doing "relaxation", which is just lying there talking to your friends. I walked in feeling very refreshed and energetic, the day was made better when I saw my friend Alison walk in at exactly the same time and tell me that she got her braces off that morning. I think that the whole braces thing is such a scam, everyone I know who got them had perfect teeth before but the orthodontist somehow covinced them and their parents that their teeth were extremely crooked (slight body dismorphia?) but this is completely besides the point. We were talking in very cheerful voices typical of the way a fifteen and sixteen year old sound, when all of a sudden Alison met some friends I didn't know very well (well they don't eat lunch with us) and we all started to walk to her locker, with them talking in hushed tones. I could hear what they were talking about but when friends of a friend start to talk to each other I usually tune out because it's never directed at me, although I basically got the drift that what they were talking about was very serious. Afterwards I asked Alison what it was about and she told me, looking very pale, that one of the students in are grade committed suicide... She was pretty popular, so a lot of people knew her including some of my friends. In gym class every one just sat there crying. It was awful. Finally after what felt like hours, the bell rang and I went to math class feeling terrible, I didn't even know her but I just couldn't get over the magnitude of the situation. Especially because I couldn't get the image of her hanging in her backyard out of my head, which is how they found her. I remember everyone saying inbetween sobs that she seemed so happy and she was so smart and she had so many friends...but people are so good at acting happy when they're not. I think that's so scary, everyone thinks someone's fine but they're actually sitting there planning their death. There were some people, who didn't know her, who thought she was being selfish. I can understand how someone would think that, but I don't think they really get what she was going through, I don't, but it's not as if she killed herself to piss people off: I think to commit suicide you can't see anyway out of feeling horrible and worthless. I later found out that she left a note saying that she felt that she couldn't live up to everyone's expectations, which I guess cleared up why everyone was so confused. It's so scary when it isn't on the news.

Saturday, April 23, 2005

Pffffft Spanish

Boy, I am tired. I am also pretty sure I failed my Spanish test, because the teacher gave us a day to learn all this Spanish stuff that I still can't even remember. She thought we all understood what she was teaching us because half the class would answer her questions correctly, but then the other half just sat there looking confused. She decided to give us the test yesterday, and she kept on saying how bad she felt for giving us a test so early but that she was confident in us, well that was stupid. She started to mark the tests when we were all done and with the second sheet of paper she smiled and said, "Yes, this is what I like to see"... It was probably the test of one of the Spanish kids in the class anyway. When she picked up the third test I was pretty sure it was mine, I grungingly sit at the front of the class right beside the teacher's desk so I should be able to see the wrtiting on the papers, but I can't because I'm old and can't see anymore, but the blur at the top of the page could have very well been my signature. I saw her hand form little X's and the smile fade into a quiet frown. Oooops. The only thing I was sure about on the test was the labeling of the parts of the body, such as la cabeza (which means head) and el dedo (finger). I'm so sick of Spanish, and you know what? I don't want to go to South America and wake up to find that someone stole my kidney, and I don't want to go to Spain and get my head blasted off or get killed by some rampaging bull, so there really is no need for me to speak Spanish except for the novelty. Yes, that is my excuse for not doing well on this test
I ended up getting 58% on my test.'

Friday, April 15, 2005

Run fast marc, run very fast.

Since when does my brother use the treadmill? O yea, according to him every Friday at ten, going five miles per hour for 60 minutes. Well thank you very much for telling me, as you lumber off in jeans and your collar sticking out from underneath your monogramed wool sweatshirt! O yes, he is really in for a workout. Now I have to do the treadmill at eleven...ELEVEN! I'm going to be in some sort of sleep-run tance...Unless I manage to find some uppers in about an hour. God, I just want to bash his head open with his stupid IPod, which is his only reason for existence...He even bought it socks.
Anyway after that little complaining thing I want to talk about what happened to me in the washroom today. Well actually nothing happened to me, it's more like something I noticed someone else doing, which was really stupid, and also slightly disturbing. I was walking home when I noticed I had to pee again (taking antibiotics, NO NOT an STD, urinary track infection, with no connection what so ever with an STD...I'm making too big of a deal out of this aren't I? You know there's a lot of discrimination connected with STD's...Not that I have one.) so I went into THE ATRIUM, a place with some shops and a cafe and a pub and a place that sells British candy and a washroom, to go relieve myself. I was well...peeing when all of a sudden I heard the bathroom door open and an explotion of soprano singing flooded into the room. I heard the singing drift into the stall next to me accompanied by a little *tinkle tinkle* and then swiftly left, leaving the door to swing shut. I sat there for a moment, stunned, and then realized that there wash no *splash splash splash* and no *air blowing from the hand dryer* to accompany her song.
She didn't wash her hands...

Sunday, April 10, 2005

Bored and Love

God, I am so bored. Bored bored bored bored bored. Why am I bored out of my mind? Everybody has a boyfriend, that or someone they woke up in bed with after a wild night of scotch and Ecstasy, everyone except me. This means I am stuck all alone by my self while my friends go do stuff with their boyfriends, except for my other weird friends who go out to dinner everynight and spend way too much time trying to be sophisticated adults. It's sort of ironic, they try to be mature but they'll blush spelling out S-E-X. Anyway hanging out with them is like spending extra time in Canadian history class, which is bad because you cannot elaborate on "Canada became a country when the Queen signed some papers-Pierre Trudeau- maple syrup-immigrants-flag"-that's all that ever happened and Native Canadians are not part of it (Canada's dirty little secret: the white people ruined their lives forever and don't care). Anyway basically It's all boring. I guess part of it is that I am the only one of my friends that doesn't want a boy friend, and there is nobody that really catches my eye, so I'm sort of left out. The last time I had a crush on someone was more than two years ago which I think is a pretty long time considering that I'm 15 and I should be having a different crush every week. I'm pretty sure I'm not gay, I did go through an "am I gay?" phase but it turned out that no, I wasn't, so that doesn't explain my lack of interest in boys. I do think that certain guys are hot, like the young princes of Monaco, but there is more to it than looks...and that's money. No it's not, (yes it is), but seriously, I'm starting to think that I'm immune to love. Not that it's really a bad thing, sure I'm missing out on that amazing feeling of hope and soaring above the clouds, but I'm also missing out on the feeling that someone is tearing your heart out and smashing your head with a brick (it's probably worse than that but I wouldn't really know). The truth is I would rather be happy and care free (even if I am far from care free) than be obsessed over guys like my friends are, it really seems to break them apart. I don't really know where this is going...but wouldn't it be weird if i stayed like this my whole life?

Saturday, April 02, 2005

Not Championship but ChampionShit.

It’s been raining for a while now and I’m one of those few people who really love the rain, so of course I had to go outside to splash in the puddles a bit. I quickly put on an old grey-white t shirt, and tucked my favourite pair of jeans into my gorgeous Salvatore Ferragamo rain boots, it really looked like I didn’t care, mostly because I didn’t. With my hair in a loose bun and no makeup on I headed out looking very European country-side. I could have just hopped on a horse and galloped into the village to get some pain at any moment. I pranced outside and jumped into a few puddles, nearly drowning in one and then decided to take the European theme a little further and started to play some soccer. This is so European, I thought as I pretended to battle against Germany for the World Soccer Cup or what ever it’s called. After Germany some how scoring too many times I decided to play in the driveway and the front yard to give me more advantage (read: backyard a bit too small to be a stadium). I must have looked like a real pro, I bet everyone else driving by must have thought so too, they couldn’t have missed me if they had wanted to, I was the only one outside. I bet they were all cheering me on as I kicked Germany’s ass. It was getting close, one more score and the Cup would be mine. With amazing skill I sent the ball into an intricate pattern with my feet as I ran fast as the wind. This my glory! This is my CHAMPIONSHIT! Suddenly I was face first into the wet asphalt, my trophy melting away into embarrassment. I turned my head to see millions and millions of cars sitting at the red lights. I quickly got up and ran away very awkwardly because of the pain, trying to kick the ball with me but then giving up halfway. It was sort of mortifying, but luckily I’m over it...And it only took me three minutes.