I was in Biology class last period, Thursday, when the strangest thing happened; my left arm went completely numb. I mean, I could still feel it, I could still move it, but it felt as though pricks and needles were eating at my skin. The next day, it was my left leg. My mom brought me to her chiropractor this morning before work, and I sort of knew what he would find. See, I've been playing basketball for the past 8 years, and some of those years were pretty rough in the physical contact department. Because of so much pushing, running, falling, getting shoved to the ground, tripping, bending and jumping, many bones in my neck and back are now misaligned. They are causing pressure on various nerves in my body, including my left arm, leg, and my lower back. They are also causing terrible migraines. The chiropractor took x-rays of my spine and neck, and I am going back Monday for a follow-up.

I had to call in sick that same Thursday due to that untimely event, but I was called in today because someone didn't show up. It went a lot better than previous shifts. The line did not stop until about 5 in the afternoon. I work again tomorrow, but I suppose Sundays are quieter. 

Other than that, I've got a ton of homework waiting for me; a literary critique for French, an oral presentation for my Writer's Craft ISU, and Math and Bio homework. Time to get busy.   

Happy Victoria Day! Let me tell you, I do enjoy these random days off from work and school. By no means does end of semester equate with end of work. On the contrary; the occasion seems to inspire teachers with odd, creative projects that take you 7 hours to do, splendid ISU's and of course, no end of tests and homework. I think my job at the coffee shop is less hectic than my academic life, which says a lot considering I worked on Saturday and it was BUSY.

One of my biggest issues is this French assignment I got 2 weeks ago. The teacher, now, he isn't what you would call a "in-your-face" teacher. He prefers offering his students the freedom to do their work, trusting them to self-motivate themselves and get the work done. Umm... I'm sorry, but in this place filled with spoiled kids who do not appreciate bilingual education, and who could not give a rat's tail about getting their crap done. I mean, I didn't finish the assignment either, but that's because I was doing Math and Bio during those lax French classes. So now I'm stuck with a 300 page book that I need to finish within the next 20 hours... FUN NIGHT!!!

(I have no one to blame but myself.)

Other boring details; I cleaned out all my drawers and threw out 2 1/2 bins worth of recyclables, the healthy income of serious procrastination! I suggest you don't try that. It was a tough task to handle. But now my room is squeaky clean. I can find all my writing binders/notebooks, no to mention year old magazines and unread National Geographic's. Sweet.

My siblings and I went for a bike ride today. The weather's beautiful; not too hot, but not too cool. I don't recall seeing a cloud in the sky. And the sky's so blue! Almost as blue as an autumn sky, yet not quite the same. Nothing can match a blue autumn sky.

I don't think my cat appreciates my heavy metal music. It's disturbing her sleep. Poor cat, wish I could do something to help her.

So after a 2 month absence, I have returned to reclaim this journal as my own. It's amazing how much life can fill up a day, a week, a month... Like a never ending cycle. No breaks, it just keeps on comin'.
 
The great news is that the temperature is amazing. The crazy frigid wind that haunted our 12 degree celsius weather is finally gone, leaving the sun to warm up this week to a stunning 27 degrees. Love it.

Another remarkable event is that I got a new job. Yep, I'll be serving them coffees up in no time. The awesome part is that my best friend works there, and she might help to train me. Can't wait.

It also was my birthday two weeks ago.

Anyways, the last weekend of basketball has finally arrived. It's going to be amazing. University scouts will be there as well, so I'll really need to step it up big time. Mo Mr-Nice-Guy gigs.

Gotta go work on my fairy tale story that's due tomorrow. I will try to post more often in the days to come.

SUMMER'S COMING!!!

What about now? What about today?

My boyfriend brought up a good point while we were on the phone. It seems that us teenagers are so eager to grow up and reach the next stage of our lives. The ones in our grade are already talking about prom and university and college and- here it comes- partying. He admitted to me that he doesn't want this year to end. Next year is going to be extremely stressful, since it'll be our last year of high school. Everything we do will matter: community service hours, credit and class choice, grades, jobs... and if you're one looking for a scholarship, then you're just even more stressed out than the rest of us. Bang out of luck, eh?

I thought about what he said. It's not like I haven't heard this sort of argument before from adults, but the way he said it struck a chord. His opinion gave me a new perspective about my generation, and I find that I too feel the same way. I don't want this year to end. I don't want to have to stress for the next few years, preparing and entering university. I want to simply relax, work, play basketball as well as write. Gotta keep a positive outlook.

I got my G1, finally. I can't remember if I've already mentioned this prior, but oh well. At last I will be able to drive legally from now on. My brother said it should have been a license to kill instead.

This is what happens when you have no life. You get trapped in the unfinished basement with your two younger siblings, eating pieces of Aero chocolate bars, watching TV, annoying the cats and playing Pokemon Pearl on your sister's Nintendo DS. I've been trying to catch an Azelf all morning, but it's at lvl. 50, and impossible to catch... my heart is broken, but I shall keep going.

Uhh... yeah... I am a loser.

Well, on the bad side, I failed my G1 written test yesterday. By one question. I was so pissed I just refused to pay the 10$ necessary to retake that portion of the test and got my Dad to drive me to the mall where I met up with my friends.In retro-spect, I should have re-taken the damn test; they probably would have given me the same one, too.

On the good side, I got my report card on Thursday. Religion was a huge flop. Somehow I dropped from an 84% to an 83%... which is impossible since I've been getting 85% and higher since mid-term. Whatever. English and Basketball were pretty good, with 95% in both classes. Chemistry was a 90%, and I'm surprised I got that since the exam was kind of tricky. In the random columns that evaluate your participation in class, initiative, organization, and use of French in class in every class,  I was given a "Satisfactory" when it came to speaking French... in English class. Which just goes to show you why you shouldn't take that section particularly seriously.

Things are a little rocky at home, but by now my siblings and I have learned to deal. It's just not the way we planned on spending our long-weekend, you know? And because of it, we won't be able to go to my little cousin's birthday party today, which will most likely cause tensions within the extended family. I'm sick of all these politics between family members! Why can't we just love each other, honestly? Instead we're always competing against the other, silently comparing our houses, jobs, incomes, lifestyles, even kids! And if one family has to bail out from an event suddenly, there's no comprehension whatsoever; people always take it personally. What ever happened to "life just happens?" Because it does, to the best and worst of people. And life isn't black or white. It's not that we hate you because we're not coming. We have issues like you, like every person you know. C'mon...

Second semester is going... fantastic actually. I know, I'm amazed as well. My classes are awesome so far. Especially my creative writing class, man oh  man, being allowed to write every single day? I love it. And Bio is amazing. I can't wait until all the revision's over. Advanced math is going okay, and French is... French. We're studying Voltaire, a very interesting author, to say the least. Can't say I enjoy his novel/play too much though. It's too weird, even for me.

I love the feeling of being pleasantly  busy. Having a purpose everyday, whether it's the next free=write, diagnostic test or basketball practice, keeps one from feeling lost in the drama of everyday life. For some reason, the guys who are crushing on my best friends all come to me for insight on my friend's world. It's always been that way; it's like I have "psychiatrist" written on my forehead. Not that I mind. I like helping people. But when it comes to your best friends... it's a tad tricky. One guy got his heart broken yesterday and didn't come to school today. My friend said that she wanted to take things slow, and he didn't understand what that  meant (neither did I, I still don't). He talked to her about it and my friend basically told him not too wait for her (long story short, she's been crushing on this guy for over a year and a half now, and no matter how much she says she's over him, she can't  pick from 1 of 5 guys that have liked her since last year. And I hope that 3 out of the 5 have moved on at this point).

Ehhh... we almost got into a shouting match today when school ended. I just snapped. The guy didn't come to school, and she was being so SOAP OPERA-ish. Honestly, it's like she plots her life in advance to resemble a dramatic movie! And when my other friend and I say something, we get our heads bitten off. But it was okay for her during the summer to diss up my boyfriend to my face! That's why sometimes I prefer being alone. Things aren't less complicated with me, but at least I can sort-of untangle my own thoughts.

It's in situations like these that I dislike girls so much. We're too over=analytical, oversensitive, and selfish, at times. We complicate the simplest things, and try to simplify the most intricate affairs. The one that pisses me off the most is when girls compliment other girls only in the hope of receiving one back. If someone says I have nice hair today, I usually say thank you, and leave it like that. Then I discretely watch the subtle change of expression as I fail to mention the other girl's hair. It's quite funny, actually.

Did I mention that we're also extremely vindictive?

It is 11:39 am. 21 minutes until midnight. I remain awake for the sake of being awake. There's no rationality behind this reasoning; it is merely a physical manifestation of my rising insanity.

The English and Chemistry exams are finished with. Done. Terminated. If I'm lucky, I won't need to repeat the process again for another year. The next two banes of my semester will be Biology and French. Needless to say I'm terribly excited.

I might have a minor issue with depression. It runs in my family, considering certain... events. It can be read in my poetry, and even in my dark way of creating stories. It may even be expressing itself through my growing cynical behavior that's pissing everyone off. Or it may be the intense lack of sleep, lately, and I'm slowly reaping the consequences.

Either way, here I am, rambling on and on, because its 15 minutes to midnight and I'm not in bed yet.

Tonight, my family and I hosted extended family and friends for my sister's birthday party. She's been exceedingly annoying with her diva act, and I finally lashed out at her. You see, I have this rose given to me by my boyfriend last Valentine's day. I calmly warned everyone in my house that day that if ANYONE every touched it without a justifiable cause, then I would kill them. I know, infantile, but I feel strongly about that flower. And tonight, my sister was out to get me. She went up to the rose and threatened to touch it if I didn't put on some funny video on YouTube. I told her that I would set her on fire if she did. So she poked it. And I completely lost it. I jumped off my bed, landed on top of her and kind of-but-not-really punched her repeatedly. Then I sat on her, and she moaned something about not being able to breathe. I was soooo pissed. She started crying and ran off somewhere.

I told my parents what happened after everyone left, and first I got the speech about how it's forbidden to physically attack one another. Then they graciously gave the monster a lecture on how to respect people's feelings. They made her apologize, and I almost slapped her because she didn't even look at me. Ugh... I really dislike her right now. I don't think I'll be talking to her for a few days.

Just for the record, I'm not usually violent. I prefer to resolve matters through talking. But there comes a point where the animal instincts kick in. Of course, as soon as I'm of age I cannot give in to such behavior. I'll end up in prison.

Hey, it's 5 minutes to midnight. Just like in that song...

Okay, I gotta make this entry brief so that my mind doesn't explode. I have two hardcore exams tomorrow in English and Chemistry, and I've spent the last week studying my friggen brains out. If I hear another bloody word about how Lord of the Flies is an allegory, or how the Crucible is an allegory for McCarthyism, or how Macbeth is a Shakespearean tragic hero, or how density is equal to mass over volume, or  how there are 6,02 x 10^23 particles in 1 mole, I WILL CUT THAT PERSON WITH A SPOON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'll be in my happy phase tomorrow, as soon as 2:30 pm rolls by. As for tonight; shower, GRAVOL, and sleep (I don't usually condone the use of drugs as an aid for sleep, but... only in exam time).

It's finally the weekend. I swear, if it hadn't been Friday yesterday I would have crawled into bed in the fetal position and have refused to budge until the weekend. My medication +  intense basketball classes/ REP practices = insane nausea and lung pain. I seriously thought I was going to regurgitate my pancreas or something last night. Not fun.

Very exciting weekend so far. I slept... and went on my computer... and listened to metal music. I love metal music. If I went to a school dance and all they played was All That Remains, Nightwish, Slayer, Slipknot, Bullet For My Valentine and Disturbed, I would never ever leave. I'm afraid the boys got me hooked on metal/ heavy metal music back in grade 9. Now my boyfriend and his friends and I can all talk about metal music together. What a happy setting. XD Sad to say, however, that I only know... 2 or 3 other girls who love metal as well (everyone else just thinks of it as "scremo". Which pisses us metalheads off).

Later this afternoon, my family and I are going to my cousin's birthday party. It should be fun, considering that it'll be a bunch of hyper kids of about 10 and older, and considering that as usual, I will be the oldest underage kid there. The younger  ones don't understand why I sometimes prefer to sit with the adults until supper is served. I laugh, because I can name a few; the gossip, the news, the "inappropriate for children" jokes and the alcohol that I keep harassing my parents about but which they only give me small sips of. It makes for good writing material as well as feeding my own dark amusement. My dad fears I am becoming a sick cynic.

As for tomorrow... I should be able to say that I shall be studying, but that's a bunch of blarg. The boyfriend's a-comin' over to hang out. He wants to show me a few songs he learned on guitar (he's just utterly amazing, by the way, his fingers are practically blurs on the guitar neck). I need to show him some extremely funny MadTV videos my brother had shown me a few weeks ago. Yay humor!!!

My shirt apparently fits my personality very well, according to my parents. It says "I'm kind of a big deal". I just bought it because I found it hilarious, not out of some perverse conceit or whatever. Well, also because I'm tall, and I'm a sucker for terrible puns. Ahh well, maybe they were joking, but they can keep abnormally straight faces and the worst of times.

I don't know how one draws inspiration from French Toast... but meh. It's just sooo good! And it tastes especially sweeter when you have it for supper. It's like you're defying the natural order of things; such a rebel!

So apparently accomplishing the impossible is possible. I had 4 oral presentations to do today; one in every class. I think I was way too busy to actually be nervous though. Even if 3 of them had to be in French. I got over my self-consciousness when it comes to speaking that language. My biggest one though was my English ISU on a Barbara Kingsolver novel, The Poisonwood Bible. I didn't stutter at least, and I made the class laugh somehow by reading a comical passage of the novel. That's always good.

Now it's just relax time before exams next week. I have my two hardest ones, Chemistry and English, on the same day. The other two soft ones, Basketball and Religion, are on the following day. I can't wait until Religion class is over; it's such a waste of time. The oral presentation I had to do today was total nonsense. I mean, who actually reads those Christian magazines? And why would anybody in my class care about the articles within them? The assignment was basically a huge joke. No one came prepared, because they thought the teacher was bluffing (so did I, I'm not going to lie). I purposely picked a random article on a bird, just to piss him off. It had no religion significance in the modern world.

At least with all these projects completed and presented, I'll have more time during the next few days to dedicate to novel writing and poetry. I really want to finish my first book by the end of this summer, and start on its sequel as soon as possible. I decided that if I was still serious about publishing the series, I would wait until I actually finished writing every single book in it. That way, I won't have any excuses not to go through with the goal. I planned for a trilogy, each averaging between 85 000 to 100 000 words. I merely have around half of my required word count for the first book. Oh well, no need to rush their composition.

I'm so addicted to all the things you do .. ♪

Wow I think I hit one of my all time lows Friday and Saturday night. Let's start with Friday, because I believe it is the lesser of two evils.

My little sister plays rep basket-ball, so I went to her tournament game with my family Friday night. I brought my new camera, too, so I could take pictures. At half-time, I stole one of the basket-balls and proceeded to shoot around. You know, showing off my developing 3-points shot. Usually, when I practice and play, I desperately need my ankle braces, or else they just buckle and sprain after a while.
 
So here I am, without ankle braces AND wearing boots. I take a 3-point shot, and as it goes in the net, I land on the court, my right ankle buckles sideways and I fall to the ground. EVERYBODY in the gym just erupted into laughter. Like, the friggen refs were on the floor laughing. It was soooooo embarrassing! My brother even stole my camera and took pictures of me covering my face on the floor. My sole consolation is that I made the basket.... :P

Alright, and Saturday night, which was last night, I went again to her last game of the weekend. I brought my camera, and took some good shots, despite the terrible lighting. At one point, I went to go sit on the team bench so I could get a different angle of the court. One of the coaches asked me at a time-out if I could go tell her husband that there were snacks in the kid's lunchboxes for the kids. So I nod happily, around the court to my parents, and proceed to tell the man sitting beside my dad the coach's message.

Only it was the wrong guy.

Yeah, I went up to a complete stranger, who was a father of the OTHER team, and told him that his kid's lunchables were in the pink lunchboxes. The guy kind of just nodded there awkwardly, then continued to watch the game. My dad's there laughing his butt off with my mom, and I just sit down in shame. My face felt white hot. I got my mom to tell the real husband my message, and I hid myself behind my camera until the end of the game.

Oh my, how am I going to live past the age of 18? I'll probably end up getting arrested for either tripping onto someone and charge me for abuse, or I'll end up delivering messages to the wrong people and screw up a.... wedding, or something.  

Happy New-Year's!!! Good-bye 08, and hellooooooo 09.

Sometimes I feel sorry for the "old" year. It must feel so rejected.

As usual, it is the period of time where one recollects on the past year (or tries to forget it, whichever floats your boat) and makes resolutions for the following year. The weight-loss commercials are simply hilarious!

"I don't wanna be a fat guy.."

Love it. But on a more serious and personal note, 08 wasn't the best year for me. I mean, I was just a mess emotionally half the time. The other half I was wishing I'd go crazy and just forget all my problems. The few good aspects were my family and my boyfriend. And my deeper understanding of the world around me, which enabled me to write better poetry and story material.

Come to think of it, 07 wasn't much better. Holy, that's when the root of my problems became the friggen flower! But I do not like to dwell on the past for longer than necessary. Contemplate it, learn the lesson, move on, that's my policy. You definitely cannot change the past, but you can change the way you perceive it.

I am spending the remaining of my Christmas break here with my relatives. They live 6 hours away from us by car, so anytime we get to see eachother is a special treat. I'm at my only first cousin's house right now for a slumber party (okay, so he is a guy, but c'mon, who else am I gonna watch Arby n' the Chief with??). My grandfather cooked a grand meal for us to honor the New-Year, and boy, was it SCRUMPTIOUS. 'Twas a typical Greek meal; lamb, mashed potatoes, salad and that awesome greek bread that's supposed to have a lucky coin in the middle. I say "supposed" because we ate a whole round loaf without finding the forsaken coin. Now we all have to survey our stools to see if we laid any... ahem, well, nickel surprises.

I knew I shouldn't have procrastinated for so long, but if you look at how the system is set up, you'll realize that procrastination is just a way to deal with the unspeakable pressures of school life. I always look forward to both Christmas and Spring break because it gives me time to just chill. I love those days where you're like:

"Hmmm...so what am I going to do today? Nothing? Meh, that's cool."

The only problem is exactly that; nothing ever gets done. Procrastination is your best and worst possible friend.

So of course, the first week of Christmas break, I tell myself "No work until after Christmas". Instead of working on my English ISU or completing the short story (whose deadline is looming too close for comfort), I spent those days playing Pokemon Pearl.

YES! MY LOGIC IS INFALLIBLE!

Wrongo... though I absolutely DO NOT regret those hours spent training my Infernape and Staraptor. Heck, I got a CLEFAIRY! That's pretty awesome. But since at the time I hadn't touched my ISU book yet, nor had I even completed the first draft of the short story, Pokemon Pearl should have waited.

Hey, I can only get away with this while I'm still a kid. A very big kid, I must say, who definitely cannot fit into those McDonald's playgrounds anymore (tear). Eh, at least I can drive... well not really, but I could have been driving for a while now if I hadn't been so busy... (another tear).

Good news though: I managed to complete the first draft of that short story. I also acquired Post-Its for my ISU, so I can pinpoint symbolisms and motifs and what-not. I have no more excuses not to start reading that darn book. Nightwalker's going to have to wait a while until I've completed the lecture of the ISU novel and the composition of 3 journal responses to the book.

I was so wrong as a kid. Life never gets easier as you get older.

Ever wake up to the realization that your life would make the perfect book? An action packed novel filled with unnatural surprises, dramatic breakdowns and girl/boy drama? Not to mention some mind reading abilities, urges to consume blood, and semi-formal dances? You'd have your average chick-lit best-seller right there at the ready!

I admit that I have toyed with the idea of actually creating a storyline out of my life. Not that I find myself terribly interesting, just in the sense that authors always repeat that you must write what you know. So what if the only thing you know very well is yourself? Would that still count as conceit?

Of course, there are many problems surrounding the possibility of an autobiographical novel. For instance, as soon as you tell someone what you're writing about, the first question is: "OH MY GOD!Who am I?????" Which can undoubtedly lead to some awkward situations. Imagine some one you liked extremely little caught wind of your story, and then came up to you and asked which character she portrays? I mean, if you can honestly say that you haven't written her in yet, then you should be fine. But what if you wrote her in as the biggest hoe bag of life? Feelings might get hurt.

Another problem would be the commentary of your school or community. If I wrote that: "There could have been a Christmas dance in the gymnasium, but because the teachers fail to control their hooligan students, it has been rendered unusable", who am I going to get the angry emails from? I can picture it now, dozens of angry letters written in perfect French.

Haha then there'd be the commentary on teachers, too. So what if I did all your homework and listened to you in class? That doesn't mean I genuinely liked you. (The exceptions being, indubitably, my English/Science teachers; they just plain rock.) But I'm not going to lie, I'm a big softie, so there are very few teachers I have not liked (the ones I hate were my teachers in Grade 8, anyways). I'm just saying hypothetically, if it were someone else writing a novel of their life... well... maybe a few people will be shocked.

I wouldn't have to worry too much about politics, however. I'm not as interested in political science, so I don't really catch all those subtle jokes that send my parents and a couple of my friends on the floor crying with laughter. No, really! I'm always there, like: Uhhhhh.... I get it? Then I get the patronizing taps on the back that make me feel like I'm 5 years old again.

I believe that my biggest problem would be revealing secrets that I was a) never supposed to repeat again or b) never even supposed to have known. I admit, there are times where I am the biggest eavesdropper in the vicinity. This usually happens when I don't have my i-pod blocking out every sound around me. You just hear those snippets of crazy gossip that make you think: "ZZZZZZoh my god, this would be perfect in a story/poem/msn conversation." I mean, c'mon, at least if the book's published and no one knows it's you, you can get away with it (though it may arise some very philosophical questions among your group of friends as to how you're not the only ones to experience similar tragedies...which would then lead you to an inexplicable fit of laughter).

All in all, an autobiographical novel can either be very satisfying... or very catastrophic. Too bad that I prefer the allegorical representation of my life enhanced with magic and fantasy rather than the direct and dry journal-like quality storytelling. Unfortunately (or fortunately), this means that many people won't get the metaphors/irony/blunt truth of certain characters I create for my own diabolical amusement.

As usual before Christmas time, the teachers find it appropriate to load students with work before the holidays. It seems that as soon as one finishes a project, 3 more are assigned. And tests. Oooohh gotta love those tests!!

But who can't handle a little work? Pff... in a week in a half there won't be any more school until January, so what's a little work beforehand?

The answer is that it's a big deal., But what's worse than that (to me, anyway) is group projects. Oh, my god, I may sound like such a manipulative control-freak loner, but I very, very, very, very, very much prefer to do work on my own. Because at least I know the work will get done properly. My chemistry partner generously decided to finish a whole section of our research paper by herself. I was ecstatic, until I realized that it was PLAGIARIZED. I almost started crying. Her paragraphs were copied word for word from an two internet sites, and they weren't properly cited either. So now I am extremely put out and pissed off. I managed to write a civil email to her hinting that if she does not do it properly, I will do the section myself and take credit for more than 3/4's of the project. The best part: this is due on FRIDAY.

If that weren't enough, there's the completely useless religion class I keep ranting on about. Projects, tests,  more projects... honestly, English and Chemistry are my top priorities, so I quite often "screw" the religion papers. I can't wait 'til Français comes around, because apparently the teacher is a big useless tool. And boys in basketball class are complete ball hogs. Ughh.

Crisse d'incompétents...

*Edit* : Okay, so she didn't plagiarize on purpose. I talked to her, and it  was an accident. I over reacted. Sorry... :P

It's the time of year where one goes through what I like to call an "end of year" crisis. Suddenly your very motives in life are questioned (by yourself), and you simply cannot trust your own judgment. You ask yourself if you have a point in life, what your friends meant when they bought you that salad from the cafeteria, what the itch in the back of your throat means hoping it's not some obscure form of strep throat. All in all, you fall apart in a single day, to be reborn the following week, on the brink of insanity.

So, to use a Dane Cook quote loosely...

"Everybody's dead quiet, but you know everybody's thinking the same thing: AHHHHHH! NOOOOOO!"

It fits in perfectly with this time period because you rarely see the symptoms of this "end of year" crisis. Unless you're the friend of that one dude who runs around the school cawing like a crow... then you know something's up.

It is also an era when you re-organize your list of priorities. So my list has in fact changed somewhat.

1. Love.
2. School.
3. Basket-ball.
4. Writing.

Notice once again how "social life" is no where to be seen. I believe that this is a recurring theme within my life cycle. Sooooo no parties for me. Not that it's ever been a focal point for me... I'm not the house party, get drunk/high on crap, get knocked-up and feel like shit in the morning kind of partier, if you catch my drift. I'm more of a "let's get a close group of friends together, get hyped up on Red Bull and candy and play truth or dare in my basement" kind of partier. Which was in fact the kind of party I held at my house last year. We still talk about it today.

On another note, I officially quit my job as cashier. Tonight was my last shift, and I am relieved that it's over. It wasn't horrible or anything, I just want to concentrate on those 4 priorities. They are my future, after all, so I better narrow down my multi-tasking.

I entered a local short story contest a few weeks ago. The award ceremony is in a week and a half, and I really can't wait. I actually loved the plot that came out of my head. And of course, it was based on a song; Surrender, by Billy  Talent. Man, it would be a huge confidence boost if I walked away with a prize. I also plan to enter another short story contest from a teen magazine, and one from a local newspaper. Meanwhile, the novels are being composed slowly but steadily. The ideas are all in my head, and written on random loose bits of paper stacked up in a binder. The dream will never die!

I think someone needs some sleep.

Alrighty. Thanksgiving weekend is finally here, and for that I am thankful. Only thing is that it'll be my first holiday shift at the cash, which promises to be terribly exciting. Oh yes, I can see it now.

Customer: Excuse me, miss, but where is the stuffing?

Me: If you couldn't find it, it means that it's ALL GONE. Hear me? G O N E ! See, if everyone was as smart as they think they are, they wouldn't come on a Saturday to do their shopping. They would have come when I was working Wednesday night while I literally waited 10 minutes between each customer because it was so dead.

Customer: ...

Wooow. In English class, I was talking to this girl who used to work as a cashier at a grocery store. I told her I was working tomorrow and she wished me luck.

"Yeah, I hope you don't get things thrown at you."

I did a double-take. "What?!"

"I got stuff thrown at me once," she admitted.

The hell? Isn't that like, abuse or something? I swear if someone ever threw crap in my face, I would jump over the counter and claw their eyes out. Well... I probably wouldn't, but I would definitely include some colorful language in my reprisal.

So this week was a pretty bad one overall. My only highlights were basketball, my date with my good  girl friend, and being with ze boyfriend. It's just one of those periods of time that occur after a few weeks of perfect days. It's a reminder that states: "Hells ya, life can still suck for you."

I wonder how many people there are in schools who think that religion classes are utterly ridiculous. I admit, at the senior levels of high school you learn more than the basic Christianity stuff (even then, you sill study the damn thing), but c'mon. If I wanted to know more about other religions I would honestly look it up on the internet. And don't get me wrong! Of course I do enjoy learning about different cultures and such. I guess I'm just kinda sick of the teacher. I wouldn't mind taking the class if I had mature kids in it. Thing is, I'm aspiring to be a doctor. I would gladly take another science class instead of the religion class to get a more valuable credit. But my uncle made a very good point; it's always good to keep an open mind and learn how other people think. So with his wise words in mind, I will now stop complaining and suck it up like a good girl.

There's probably going to be some very good stories tomorrow. So... until then, have a good Thanksgiving! (Or not, if you celebrate it in November or something ..)

Petty childish mind games. Aren't we all tired of them, already? I mean, by the time you're my age, you'd think the immaturity would have dwindled a little bit. Yet, as I look to my peers, I find that very few are in that stage of adolescence where they are closer to adult than child.

Why is that so?

It is stupidity like jealousy that makes me want to ditch almost every girl friend I have and just chill with the guys. I mean, seriously, the guys are even fed up with the shit our girl friends put us through, not to mention the crap they put themselves through. Life is one big soap-opera with them.

I am not naming any names. I am not declaring any circumstances. But enough's enough. Grow the hell up, people. Don't be pissed at your friends because they have boyfriends or girlfriends, or if they decide to go on dates with those boyfriends or girlfriends before you even invited them to a birthday party you're hosting, and that you said you never wanted.

Now you're probably asking: Why [ insert blogger's name here ], why in the scheme of things are you still their friends? Why don't you just pull away and never go back?

My answer: You're a smarty pants, aren't you? Here, take a cookie.

Truthfully, that is what I'm doing. And my life's slowly getting better. Until, that is, they accuse me of never being there for them anymore. Then the whole cycle will commence again. I wish my school wasn't so small. Maybe then it would be easier to mingle with other groups and evolve different personalities.

Maybe most of the people I know are schizophrenic.

So the news gets even better. Along with having OSIIOD (please read "Clumsy is the new black" for definition), it seems that I have another similar handicap. It's called "Challenged knifing abilities", or CKA for short.

CKA usually occurs in the early hours of the morning, particularly after a bad night's worth of sleep. The setting of the incidents rarely varies case from case; a dark lit kitchen, granite counters, a bagel and a knife. What appears to happen to the victims of such a disorder isn't clearly defined, as it depends on the individual's level of stupidity. 
 
The following case is merely one of the most severe that have been recorded within the past few months.

A young girl walks into her kitchen at around 7 am. She eats her cereal peacefully, reading "The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants". When she is done she decides she wants cinnamon raisin bagels. She fetches them from the freezer in her garage and is stunted when faced with an odd obstacle; the bagels are frozen. She thinks the problem through carefully, setting out a logical train of thought leading to the most intellectual solution.

She takes a meat knife and proceeds to attempt to separate the pre-cut bagel in two equal halves.

After a misplaced stab was thrown at the bread, the blade slice through the crack and proceeded to tear the skin between the girl's thumb and forefinger.

Does she inform her parents of this injury? No. She feels too dumb to do so. Instead she hides it from them and proceeds to play 5 games in a BASKET-BALL TOURNAMENT, ALL DAY.

There's only one thing to describe this awful incident:

EPIC. FAILURE.

Goddamn! This thing might need friggen stitches! I mean, I obviously told my parents after the first game when they noticed I had wrapped my left hand in a white bandage... it hurt like hell! I could not catch the ball properly.

Overall, it was a crappy day. Now I'm off to get some sleep, and I won't be awake before 10pm tomorrow morning.

May some higher being protect the disgraced from themselves.