Self-sufficient please/ and get to work!

I was a busy little bee yesterday. I cleaned my room and set up my grad present -- my mirror. It is fabulously gorgeous, but you can't see the frame detailing which is the best part. Oh well. You can see how I set up my old red suitcase and hugn my necklaces and earrings and put stuff in it. I am very proud of myself. Next job -- painting!

IplayedafungameandnowIhavemyownband.

Band Name: MidAmerican Energy Holdings Company
Album Name: ...and wickedness shorten life
Cover pictures: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wirclickwir/2217857499/

This was fun. Play this game here.

I'm not the ladykilling sort/ enough to hurt a girl in port

On Saturday I visited Concordia University, as they were having their Big Exciting Open House Day. My mom and I set out at the ungodly eight in the morning and drove to Montreal. I swear, I didn't sit down all day, except for the shuttle ride to and from Loyolla campus. I toured both campuses, all three residences (shared bathrooms... ew) as well as the Communications Studies building. Basically, here is how I sum up Concordia: It's way too cool for me.

Honestly, it's just so cool. The dorm I would (love to) live in is in downtown Montreal, one of the coolest cities on the planet, in Quebec (they speak FRENCH there. I LOVE french.) and I would study this amazing program with all this amazing technology and I would be creative and cool and awesome. If I could? Can I be cool like that? I don't know. See, with Concordia, it's the anti-Queens. Concordia is like, "I'm going to move to Montreal and live there and at the same time I'll be going to school". I don't know if I can handle it. I think it's too cool for me. But maybe... maybe not.

Tale of Two Kitties

There was once a kitty named Jack.

Jack was a very fat cat.

Jack loved to lie in front of the fire.

Yes, it was good to be Jack.

But, little did he know, his brother, Jubal was watching from high atop the couch.

Jubal, jealous of Jack's spot, decided to try to steal it.

Jack, enraged by this attack, fought Jubal.

An epic battle ensued.

They fought long and hard.

Finally, Jack emerged the winner, and enjoyed his warm spot by the fire once more.

That tune in your head

In my living room, at 5:00 precisely:

Me: It's exactly 5:00.
Mom: Yes.
Me: Sometimes, when I look at the clock, and it's right on the hour, the CBC news music plays in my head.
Mom: You really need to go work at CBC.

Here is your letter/ with everything I know

My friend pierced her lip and now we're in a fight.

She went out for no reason other that she felt like it at that moment and then decided to put a big ring through the middle of her lip. No thought, nothing.

So, the fact that I thing lip piercings are ugly aside, they aren't the best piercing to get. It creates a constantly open pathway to the mouth, I nice warm, wet place for bacteria to hang out. They kind of love it there. And lip piercings are complementary to this.

But it's not about the lip piercing. Not really. She just moved out of her dad's house and into an apartment with two friends. Her old house was not really the best place for her to be -- her dad had no authority over her anyway and he was a pretty toxic guy to have around. Mostly they kept to themselves though. But now she is living in an appartment with two friends. Even before we moved out, she had some habits I didn't approve of. Staying up all night many nights in a row just because, not getting work done until the last second, going out late at night... Everything has just been exacerbated by moving out. She has people over every night, including her DJ boyfriend who can sleep all day since he makes his own schedule as a musician for a living, but she has school. She only comes to class to hand things in, but she never comes otherwise. She stays up all night or sleeps for a couple hours a night. And I'm worried about her. She's never had that authority figure in her life to teach her some things. I am all for spontenaity. I wish I could be more spontaneous. But doing what you feel like doing whenever you feel like doing it isn't necessairily the best thing always. Sometimes you have to do things you don't like. Be responsible.

Which comes back to the lip ring. She's mad because I was less than supportive when I heard, and instead asked her if she had thought about this, considered the risks, the whole gateway-for-bacteria situation and you know, if she'd like it tomorrow. I just want her to take a bit more reponsibility for herself. I'm worried about her if she can't do that.

The thing is, I'm her only friend who pulls the responsibility card on her. Not that they're irresponsible - not true. My friend isn't even that irresponsible. It's just that when I suggest responsibility, she gets angry with me. She thinks I'm being a bitch, or a bad friend. Really, I'm just at my wits' end. I know we're growing apart, but I want to stay friends with her. I'm just a little afraid for her.

Stars, shine so bright/ much better than neon lights

So, I know that this is kind of the obsession of many right now and many are likely sick of hearing about this... Heath Ledger died. Like, he's dead. Am I the only one who was shocked?

OK, I completely understand the absurd side of this. He's totally not even related to me in any way. We've never even met -- except for that one time we almost did while he was shooting the Bob Dylan movie in Ottawa right near Insight Theatre practice, but anyway -- why should this affect me at all?

Well, you see, it just so happens that one of my favourite movies of all time is 10 Things I Hate About You, an adaptation of the Taming of the Shrew, but in high school. Yes, Shakespeare adapted for high school, very novel. But there was something about this movie. I laugh so hard, every time I watch it. I cry at the end every time. And it's pretty much because of Heath Ledger. He plays this guy who is paid to take out Kat -- Julia Stiles -- and is kind of the school rebel. Somewhere along the way, he falls for her. Drama ensues. Nerds and popular kids are made fun of. Keggers go down. There is very hot kissing in a pile of straw during a paint balloon game. Heath Ledger's character is so bad-ass, but so fragile all at once... and Julia Stiles is the same. I liked that she was this amazing, cool, gorgeous girl who read Sylvia Plath and didn't care what people thought. I looked up to her.

Anyway, on one of my Fantasy Lists*, Heath Ledger is #1 -- for "Boys I would most like to come be my Boyfriend". He was sweet, considerate, and completely smitten with her. Who doesn't want a boy like that, one who is adorably gorgeous on top of it?

So, I'm sad Heath Ledger died.

*Other lists inclued "Girls I would most like to be"** and "Marriages I hope to someday model my Own Marriage Off Of" (The coach and Tammy from Friday Night Lights).

**
Evey's list of Girls She Would Most Like to Be (If She had to be Someone Else):
#1 Ellen Page
#2 Natalie Portman
#3 Scarlett Johansson
#4 Keira Knightley
#5 Julia Stiles

These are all based off of their being in movies I would like to also be in. And also them playing cool characters. And also they themselves seeming pretty cool.

"Find a way to stall the cab!" "I'm sitting in it." "Good stall tactic"

I've always been one of those teenagers who got it later than everyone else. Out of the loop kind of a deal. When I found out my classmates were smoking POT in grade nine, I went through a week of depression. No joke - it was this incredibly feeling that the reality I knew and counted on was a lie (in grade nine, every little thing makes you question your reality). It's a good thing I didn't find out until later that people smoked in grade seven. I don't think my grade nine self could have handled it.

In any case, I get to things maybe two or three steps behind many of my classmates. Like going out at night, for instance. I'm a homebody. I love sitting at home in front of the TV/the fire/a good book/my pillow. It's my comfort zone. I especially love doing this with one or two friends. Sure I like going to parties too, but I like them to be in the house of a friend. Comfort zone. Last night I went to what is known as a "psi* party". Basically, lots of people, lots of loud music, lots of blacklight. I'm surprised I even got in -- it was a close call, lots of arguing was involved and the now semi-familiar looks exchanged between bouncer and DJ who is trying to get his girlfriend and her plus one (me) in to the show. It stresses me out, which just makes your chances even worse. Luckily I was with Kirsten, who has the DJ as well as the quick answers to everything.

I had a lot of fun, but I was up way later than I'm used to. I was up way past my bedtime (and I think I said that in front of DJ boyfriend, which makes me feel really stupid, and childish. I have no idea how I continue to function at this point (The proof that I'm not really: I wrote "fonction" intead of function. When I get tired, I sometimes type in french). Also, I have no idea where the weekend went. I got absolutely nothing done this weekend, which means I'll be up late tonight doing all the things I ran out of time for. The way the world rushes past me is astonishing.



*Psytrance. A kind of music.

We are the Earth Intruders

Sometimes, I find out how incredibly talented all the people I know are and then I feel really small for a while.

Tonight was the Art Show for all the arts students. I took a brief look upstairs at the pieces but I spent a long time in the grad art room, where 40 students in my grade displayed their art pieces from the year. I had no idea these people were so talented! Where do they hide all this talent? Why didn't I know?

Here are some favourite pieces from the night:

1. A mermaid dress. My friend made a dress for one of her independant pieces (under the sea -themed) that was empire waist with these amazing pieces like scales to make the skirt. "And it's in my size!" She said, "I'm definitely whipping this thing out at a party."

2. A picture of a face. There was this painting, randomly of a face, but it was weird and had all these dots and colours, and funky ears and I quite liked it. I later learned that it had been painted while the artist and her friend were really drunk. I feel like maybe I should drink up before I try my luck at painting again?

3. My favourite piece was this amazing, five feet by five feet canvas with 1 inch diameter circles on it. The were lined up perfectly, like a honeycomb. The artist explained to me that all the pictures had been taken from National Geographic Magazine, and she knew the story for each one. There were about 1000 circles on the canvas. "This one," she said, pointing to an arm, "is part of a really hot boy..."

I am super jealous of all this talent. Jumping up and down on stage saying silly things? Easy. Making a chez d'oeuvre like that? Amazing.

The saddest thing that I've ever seen/ smokers outside the hospital doors

I kind of miss my old blog. I really do. I had a great run over there. I started it as a way to keep in touch with my cousins and friends in Indiana, but when they stopped blogging so much and I stopped living vicariously through them, I realized I'd kept it up because I really enjoy blogging. It's true that the old blog was stagnating and was overly popular with friends of my parents, but it's still sad to let go. I guess I just have to wait a while to see if some of the old readers tag along for the ride. Maybe I will meet some new people too! Exciting.


In other news, a late Christmas present arrived for me today in the mail, which was very exciting. My mother ordered Doris: An Anthology for me for Christmas since Chapters stores often don't carry it. I'm excited, and it will make for some fab reading -- if I can wait until after exams. Who am I kidding? That's two weeks away. I'll wait until the weekend instead.

Wanna always feel like part of this was mine/wanna fall in love tonight

There is something so weird about teachers outside of school. As Angela Chase said, "It's so weird that teachers actually, like, live places." Also, "Maybe teachers have a hidden life. Where they're actually, like human. Where they have, I don't know, dignity. Or maybe not."*

So K**, my drama teacher, isn't like other teachers. Normal teachers. Sure some teachers want to be your friend, or say they care about your life, but honestly, we're creeped out about it. Then they turn out to be liars when they assign a truckload of homework the night they fully know we have an improv performance, or the night of music night, or something. That's why it's so hard to be a "well-rounded" student, I guess.

Ms K is not like other teachers. She gets it. If we're stressed, she pushed back deadlines. If we're panicking because of other classes, she has us spend a period on a group discussion, or guides us through some relaxation. I have ended up in her office having tea more than once, crying when I just really need to. She just gets it. And she really wants to help. This is how she is with her drama students, so when you're on the improv team, the team is your family and K, second mother. Sometimes I end up spending more time with the improv team than with my real family. We laugh together, cry together, win together... improv is like a support system for life, and K is the head of that.

So at Connor's Finals, when K won two sens tickets, the whole team offered to babysit. We made jokes about attacking her house and playing guitar hero with her kids. When the game came around this weekend, and K asked around to see who was babysitting, it ended up being just me. Never having babysat for two boys before, I was a little stressed. I'm a girl babysitter, I colour and play dolls. I don't know what to do with boys.

It was a little freaky to be in K's house. Her husband answered the door and showed me around, and I met her kids -- who were incredibly cute. It felt weird calling her "Ms K" in this millieu, but I didn't know what else to call her.

The evening went very well. I survived. K gave me a lift home and we chatted. She did a K check-up on me to see how I was feeling (exhausted) why I was feeling that way (umm.. dunno. Tons of stuff) and how psyched I was about improv (very). If I keep in touch with anyone after I graduate, it will be K. A couple of my friends as well, but mostly, I will send off an email to K every now and then, to stay in touch. You don't come across people like her every day.






*From The Substitute, which is one of my favourite episodes of MSCL.
**no name-hiding here. We actually call her K. Or Ms K. Or K-town. Some variation of that.

December is darkest and June is the light/ but this empty bedroom won't make anything right

Geez was it windy today. I'm glad I stuffed my mittens and music hat in my bag on a whim this morning because I really needed them after school. Brr.

Nothing really happenned today at all. The usual school, home, orthodontist deal. But I did read something very interesting in Fashion magazine (surprising, I know). Apparently, some study has been done that says that women tend to be bisexual! Here is the tidbit, recopied without permission - I hope no one sues me.

Straight, Gay or Flexible?
Recent research suggests woman may be "intrinsically bisexual" and the higher their libido, the more they desire both sexes. In another study, the female subjects -- whether they considered themselves straight or gay -- were physically aroused by erotic films of both men and women. In constract, the straight men were excited just by women, and the gay men, just by men.

This is my new small talk starter. I'm excited to see what people say.

We won't stop until somebody calls the cops, and even then, we'll start again and just pretend that nothing ever happenned

That is from a song by Kimya Dawson from the Juno soundtrack. I heart it... but less so when I can't get it out of my head all day. Just that one line...



This is the story of my quest for a digeridoo (and all before 9:30am). My sister was doing a summative (read: big deal, uptight) project on Australia for her geography class. I suggested she phone up my friend and ask to borrow the digeridoo someone randomly gave to her this one time. My friend, who had just moved into an appartment from her family home and also happens to be like the third daughter of our family, said yes, and we suggested we stop by this morning on the way to school to pick her and the intrument up and cart them to school.

Things started to go downhill at about 8:15, on our way to her appartment in the Market. Now, not normally having to drive in that direction, we didn't realize how dumbfuck the traffic would be. So we were late. After sitting in traffic for a few minutes, watching my sister try really hard not to have an anxiety/panic attack (she does have anxiety problems. Big ones) and my mom freaking out in her own way, I suggested someone call my friend to let her know we were late. Here is the rest of the story via phone conversations:

Call #1-
Me: Hey, we're running a little late, we'll be there soon.
Friend: Oh right! I forgot you were picking me up! Awesome, I'm running late anyway.
Me: *audibly rolls eyes* Ok, we'll be there soon.
Friend: Can you wait 5 minutes? I'm eating breakfast.
Me: Um, no, my sister is about to have a panic attack because she's going to be late for first period.
Friend: Oh, ok. I'll find the digeridoo and see you soon.

Call #2-
Me: Where exactly is your appartment? Which part of Dalhousie?
Friend: Um, problem, I can't find the digeridoo.

[about this point I felt like screaming at said friend but held off for fear of a nuclear-sized eruption in my car.]

Me: Ok, fine. We'll take my sister to school and come get you.

Call #3:
Friend: Yeah, we figured out it got left behind in the move. It's still in my house, in the room across from my room.
Me: Fine.
Friend: Well, I'll bike and see you at school.
Me: Great.

At this point we arrived at school, dropped my sister off and I let my mom in on the situation. I ran inside to hand in a summative, made an excuse about an appointment and ran out again.

Call #4:
Me: Do you have a key that I can get from you to get into your house?
Friend: My dad should be home.
Me: Great.

So my mom and I missioned back to her old house which was right on our way to school instead of completely out of the way like the Market is. Luckily I could shield my sister this time, but she would have failed her first period project if she'd had a panic attack because of that digeridoo. And my friend didn't even think to take a look to see if she had it when we asked for it two days before. Wow, I hate irresponsible, thoughtless friends, especially when they hurt someone I love.

"But I promise this: I won't go my whole life telling you I don't need"

In a community like a high school, every little event seems to be magnified ten times. I don't know if it's that we're teenagers, or if it's because we spend so much time together, but everything, no matter how big or small, seems to affect the entire class.

Last week, a student at my school named Ben Marsters died. He'd been battling a disease for many years -- the same disease his father had died of a few years ago. I think I was a lung disease, but I'm not sure. I have no idea because to everyone, he seemed a normal, healthy teenager. He went skiing all day a couple days of before he died. But "seem" is often not "is".

I was never very close with Ben. In fact, I'd hardly even spoken to him in our three years together at Lisgar. So when I looked on facebook last Saturday and saw three invitations to a group called "RIP Ben" I was confused. I thought Ben might be a friend's dog, or a television show character. Even when I saw the words "Lisgar student", "passed on" and "funeral", I couldn't seem to comprehend what was going on. I thought it was a joke. A huge, stupid joke.

I had forgotten the moment in bio class last year, when we did a lung volume lab. It was one of those labs meant to interest the bored students and "get you involved in learning!" or something like that. Each student got a turn to measure their lung capacity by blowing air throung a tube into a huge beaker full of water overtuned in a bigger tub of water. At the beginning of the class, Ms Middleton told the class that no one had ever emptied the beaker, so of course, all the teenage boys wanted to. The one who came the closest was Ben, who almost emptied the thing. We cheered and laughed and patted him on the back as someone joked "Of course the guy with the lung disease almost empties it!" The irony was funny then; now it's just sad, a bitter reminder of how unfair it is that such a happy, vibrant guy like Ben would be taken away, just like that.

Ben was in my french class this year. He sat at the back of the class with the other guys who weren't really sure they wanted to be taking Mme Kunstmann's intense french class. I didn't talk to him much -- he was a quiet constant, always there at the back of the class, a genuinely nice guy that everyone liked. Mme Kunstmann used to rag on him about missing class for soccer, along with some other boys in the class, one in particular was Ben's best friend. On my way to french today, I saw him walking with a friend of his, and I stopped him to talk for a minute. "You going to french?" I asked him gently. He and I have never gotten along. Our relationship has come to name-calling (by him), but today, we both knew it didn't matter. He replied, "No, not today. Don't tell her or anything. But she saw me anyway, I guess it doesn't matter."

"You don't have to come today," I said, and paused, "hang in there."

In the grade twelve classes, it was kind of like a bomb had gone off, but only our year had noticed. All the other grades continued on with their days, while senior students stopped in the halls, eyes watering, to hug fellow classmates. "Drive-by hug!" we'd joke, and sniffle. Even for students who hadn't known Ben very well, things changed. Most of us had found out before the first period assembly, but it was then that it really hit home. I sat in the main hall after the assembly with Davis, slightly shaken. "I didn't know him," she said to me, "but what if I had? What if someone I was close with died?"

All day, it kept coming up. Discussions would start out about summative stress and finish with "Why does it even matter? Why are we doing summatives instead of living our lives when we could die tomorrow and it would have been a waste?"

When someone as young as Ben was dies suddenly, as he did, there is always a huge amount of shock. As teenagers, we tend to think we're invincible, on the way up, getting ready for the rest of our lives, but if Ben has had any impact on me, it's been to teach me that there is no such thing as the rest of our life. It's now. This day could be all you get. Life altogether too painfully short.

Ben funeral is tomorrow afternoon, and even though French is canceled, I don't think I'll go. To me, it feels inappropriate since I barely even spoke with Ben, but I did sign my message on the card for his parents. And I wrote this bit, just to show that he did have an effect on me.

Call me up before you're dead/ We can make some plans instead

I like to think that I am a good friend. You know, that friend you can call anytime, day or night, the one who you can be completely open with. That kind of thing. This is one of the things I like to think about myself, along with other things, but I never really knew if anyone else thought it about me. Maybe people secretly avoid me! I have no idea.

But I'm glad that vibe of friend that I've been sending out into the universe has actually been picked up by one of my friends. Last night, Davis called me up from a 24 hour pharmacy:

Davis: Hi! I hate myself, I'm freaking out, and I need to dye my hair!
Evey: Um... ok. Come on over.

Now, that was a bit of a paraphrase on my part, but you get the idea. The result was a night of (yet more) procrastination on my summatives, listening to the Juno sountrack in my bathroom, and dyeing hair. I had never dyed anyone's hair before in my life. But I grabbed those gloves and that icky smelling hair dye and went to work. I think it turned out ok, but you'd have to ask Davis. Once all the blond was gone and we were done our cremes brules with strawberry, I sent a much saner Davis on her way home.



So, if you ever need an emergency hair dyeing and bitching session, you now know who to call.

Et je t'aime tellement que j'hallucine

The other night I dreamt that I was getting married. I was in love with this adorable guy, and we were only a little older than we are right now. There was this beautiful tent set up on the side yard of "my" house, which is actually my next door neighbour's house. I was dreaming it was the night before our wedding and he had snuck out of his house, away from him family, and I away from mine and we met in the tent. We stood together and kissed and talked for hours. We were completely in love. I woke up crying. It was weird.

The dust at dawn is rained upon, attaches itself to everyone

Funny moment of today:

The scene: A group of teenagers are standing outside in the freezing cold. One of them (me) is holding a camera in a shivering hand. She speaks in short, demanding sentences and points violently.

Evey: Ok, now we're going to do the snowball shots. Josh, get over there.
Josh: [walks across to the other side of the road] here?
Evey: Yeah. Everyone else, pelt him with snowballs!
Josh: What?!!
Evey: ACTION!
Josh was really, really snowy by the end of the day's shoot.

Today was the day that the cast and crew of the upcoming movie Beauty School (currently in production mode) decided to come together to do a huge day of shooting. We got a lot of scenes shot, but we also had a ton of fun. Some highlights include the fake fight Bailey and I had that was accidentally caught on camera, my cameo as the crazy mother, Josh pushed into a snowbank.

I feel like work shouldn't be that fun. We had just way too much fun.

Where, oh where, have the holidays gone? It feels like 3 days ago that I was sitting in class thinking longingly of the upcoming stretch of rest and relaxation, and now I'm desperately clinging to every moment, trying to forget all the work I haven't even started. More than stupid teacher/board politics, more than stupid grading systems, my biggest problem with the school system right now is break. About December 15, the grads started rolling in, more than any other year, I think. Everyone you looked, the school was lousy with them. They were laughing, they were gushing, they were that wonderful, beautiful thing we'd all forgotten, that word, what's that word, right, relaxed. Meanwhile, the grade 12 students all manically glanced up from their keyboards and 3am and shot a quick "sup?" before continuing summatives with one hand and cramming Christmas turkey down their throats with the other. Here's an idea, schools: read the calendar. No, no really READ it. Here, I'll take a minute and wait. See that stretch of time between Dec 21 and Jan 7 where you aren't open? That's the the Winter BREAK. As in, a break in work, a break in routine, time to decompress. Unfortunately, teachers don't seem to understand this. They figure that the break means more time for work. Honestly, this is the unavoidable by-product of a mid-term break. If they really wanted to give us a break, they would shift everything so we had winter break between terms.

...and that is my school board beef.

THE END. (for now)

"I wish the world was flat like the old days/ and we could travel just by folding a map"

Funny moment of the day:

Scene: My car, morning after New Year's Eve party. My mother is driving.

Me: So, I put on some psytrance last night, and it was actually on for like, an hour and a half.
Jake: Yeah, that was during that time everyone was just chilling.
Me: No one turned it off! Did you like it?
Jake: Um... I can't actually remember...
Mother: [pretends she has no idea what we were doing the night before].

So everybody put your best suit or dress on/ we'll make believe that we are wealthy for just this once

Happy New Year! I hope everyone enjoyed their evenings of the usual New Year's Eve fun and debauchery. As a certain blogger friend of mine said, "It's no fun unless you can't remember it." But I kid.

I wish you all a very happy new year, full of happiness, love, and friendship. Because what else do we really need? (Not that I wouldn't like to be more in shape, or anything...)