14 Golds, THAT'S RIGHT

I have to say...


I love being Canadian!

Said About Having Nothing

There's something to be said about having very little left. Something good, rather than bad.

For instance- When someone threatens to ruin your life, you can sit back and laugh, thinking "What life?" Maybe if I still had the friends I did a month ago (wow, it has really been over a month...) I would be a bit worried, because they could crack me. And through them, whoever was threatening the life-ruining could get to me easily. If my friends were a stronger shield, maybe it would make it so much harder, but they weren't. I know that for a fact. Because I've had my "life" targeted before, way back in grade 9. Because I had friends that wouldn't support me, they got through my first line of defense.

And don't say I'm blaming it all on them, I'm not. But isn't all our first line of defense, or at least one of them, our friends? And wouldn't we be their line of defense?

Now, because I'm being the first line of defense for a one-time friend, I'm being targeted again. But what do I have? What do I have left to break, shatter, destroy?

Very little. And what I do have, most of it cannot be touched- my family, for example. Because while my friends used to be my first line of defense, my family has always been safe behind me, only coming out when necessary.

These girls who threaten to ruin me, my life, my social status, and whatever else they think I have? They have nothing on me because I have nothing on me. They can spread rumors about me, but who do I have to worry about actually believing them? No one. They can come up to me and say things that aren't true, but I know they aren't, besides, I'm in the school for one class, and maybe another for baking. When can they get me?

Yes. They can do some damage, but indeed there is something good to be said about hitting rock bottom, or even near rock bottom.

All they can use are rocks. And the rocks are dead things of really no importance to me. Yes, they can hurt, but they can only hurt me directly, and I can deal with that better than having the rock hit me because my friends helped it along.

As If I'm Growing Off A Tree

Throughout my life, I've been threatened more times than I can count. One of the most prominent threats is "I will snap you like a twig." This is no doubt caused by my rather thin frame.

The utterance of threats towards me often comes from misplaced loyalty. I have never really had many loyal friends. Some of you who read this might know this from before, long ago, from a different blog entirely. Or you might have picked it up while reading either this blog, or Stealing Snowflakes. Or maybe you are one of those people who I've put my loyalty in, and found only hardship from it. Others, still, will only be learning this now, as I tell them. No matter. This is the truth. It is not bent or wholly damaged. I had and still have so-called friends that my loyalty has pinpointed. And once my loyalty has pinpointed a person, animal, object, it does not let go easily at all. It's a curse more than a blessing, I think.

Maybe it's more loyalty than trusting that is my problem. If not for my loyalty, many problems could be averted in many aspects- I would not tangle myself in another's problem to defend my friend, I would not have accusations of falsehood of my motives (since I tend to stand up for my friends, even if we are no more, they wonder why and deem my excuses- simple loyalty I am hard put to control, fake), and I'd not wish, dream, hope or expect others to be as loyal to me as I am to them, even after years upon years of friendship.

And then here is where it connects to today, instead of just being a random ramble (which would be fine, but if there is a purpose, why not use it?).

Today I stood up for a one-time friend who searched for any water-thin reason to run for the hills along with everyone else, and had found it in something I said in passing. She twisted my words, spun them into something I never intended, and turned on me. It was an attack that could have only happened had she been looking for a way to make it.

But yet, when someone decided to use the internet to insult her, I felt the need to step in and stay loyal to her though she had given me no reason to (for our friendship was marked and pitted with instances like the one above, and worse). And I got threatened for it.

The girl has threatened to "Snap me like a twig."

And me? I'm kind of looking forward to it. It will never happen, that I know. She will spread rumors, she will slander my name, she will giggle and laugh with her friends and taunt me, for that is her way, but she will not lay a hand on me.

I'm honestly curious here to know what it is like to be snapped like a twig, as I've heard the same threat uttered a hundred times, but not once has it come into effect.

Heart-Bound Copies Of Our Lives

We'll sit under the sun-lit canopy,
Just us, each other, you and me.
There we will tell stories of our hopes and dreams
and about running through forests and swimming through streams.
And when we come to separate, and there will come the day,
We'll depart each with books of stories that in our hearts will stay.

Dear Abby,

A while ago I was wondering where this one girl went. I loved her writing, and she seemed to actually understand me when no one else even bothered. Except, well, she found her reality, and I'm so happy for her.

And me being the silly person I am didn't get around to setting notices on for comments. Today, when looking for posts to put on my favorite posts list, I found her comment from, oh, 16 days ago? (gosh, that day seems like months ago!)

And here I was, thinking that maybe she was gone forever, when she seemed to be here the whole time. Silly, silly me.

I don't know if you got the comment I left today (so belatedly), but I'll say something here, too.

Hey Abby! I hope you haven't mistaken my no-response as ignoring you! I honestly thought I'd get e-mailed (like before, on Perfectly Imperfect).

By the way, you made my day!

The Things In Our Lives

Sometimes... A lot of the time... I look at something, anything really, and want to know what it's like to be it.

What is it like to be a star? Is it lonely, with the closest star to you so far away? Or do you have loud enough voices to speak easily? Do we irritate you with all our wishes? Or are you just sad you cannot grant all of our wishes at once? Do you contemplate forever what wish you will grant when you finally shoot off? Or do you do it on impulse, on the first person to make a wish upon you?

What of a cloud? Always changing, subject to the wind. How does that feel? Sometimes I wonder if the clouds see similarities in us, in themselves. We are always changing. We are subject to our own flow of life.

Or a rock, perhaps. How does it feel to be overlooked, forgotten about, stepped on, beaten down, until the wind and rain erode you to nothing? I think we all know how that feels, but how is it to have it happen every day of your life?

Or the teddy bear we used to be so fond of. They sit on the edge of the bed, or in the closet, or on a chair, or in a box, forgotten about. Sometimes forever. Sometimes until we realize we can't live without them. Do they feel used? Or are they just happy to be able to help us?

These masks on my wall, do they feel sorry for me? They've not seen everything, but they've seen the end result of it all. They've seen me cry, they've seen me wish myself elsewhere, they've seen me happy, even. Do they wonder what happened, where everything went, when they couldn't look upon me? Do they wish they could cry through their porcelain eyes? Or do they think me lucky I can express emotions in the way they cannot?

What would the things in our lives say, if they only had a way to express it in a way we'd understand?


I'd like to say it's hard for me to trust someone. Honestly, if it was hard for me to trust someone, I wouldn't be in half the problems I am in.

But I can't say that. Not truthfully. I trust people all to easily. I'll tell people things even though I know that in a couple of months, we won't be friends and they could very well spread it around.

But is that really trusting them? Or is it just me being... daring? Stupid?

I will tell someone something, knowing that I won't always be friends with them. Knowing that in a few months, we won't be on speaking terms. I will tell them knowing that, in time, they will believe they have every reason to spread everything I've ever told them around. I tell them knowing that they will spread it around, maybe even before we stop speaking- because I know their nature.

I know that Michelle will tell everyone she can find what I've told her in the dark of our sleepovers. I knew Rebecca would, and still does, tell people what I've said, done, thought. It's in their natures.

So what would you call this? Trust?

Maybe the truth is I don't trust anyone, but can't not say anything. It seems that way right now. I used to tell no one anything, and then I started to, and now I can't stop.

I really wish I had a classification. A name for this.

Option Sheets

So we got our option sheets today, and on them are a few new, interesting courses.

Figures, the year I graduate they decide to bring in courses I'd love to take.

But I guess it will all be decided when I get replies from colleges. Which might not be until after the option sheets are due.



Yesterday my foot got stepped on by a horse.

Just thought you should know.

Here We Go Again

Oh look, a name change.

It was only a matter of time.

I thought this up one day, way back... way way back. Okay, maybe not that far back, but it somehow does seem like such a long time ago. But at the same time, it feels like only a week ago.

It was back when I had friends. Got up in the morning, way too early and on way too little sleep (it's not a new thing- I've been an insomniac for a long time, I just didn't know it till maybe two years ago, or a bit more...) and was racing around the house trying to get ready to head to Weil's for my co-op.

I guess I woke up, looked at the clock, looked at my phone, pressed snooze, and thought "Here we go again."

Which turned into a short-lived comic strip (about two and a half pages. I was testing out my drawing style and seeing if I had improved since the last time I tried drawing- I didn't, by the way)

And now most days just seem to go this way. Here we go again.

Wake up. Press snooze. HWGA.

Spend the hour I've allotted myself (trust me, it used to be oh so much worse, I'd only have 10-15 minutes to get ready, if I was lucky) playing Country Story, the only real reason I go on Facebook, and checking out the many new book reviewing blogs I've come to follow (publicly, which I usually don't do, because no one believes you if you're not public about it.). Realize I have 5/10/15 minutes to get dressed before I have to leave. HWGA

Rush into class about a minute before final bell (I have learned how people who live right across from the school can be late for class!) HWGA

Sit alone on my FNS, listen to the preps-that-hate-me (there's a good kind of prep out there, I am sure, I just have yet to meet her) whine about how their shoes don't match their shirt, or giggle about who-slept-with-who, and pretty much dish out gossip and insults on their closest friends who happen not to be in the class (one of them is a twin who insults her own twin sister every day. Talk about sisterly love. You'd think they'd have some kind of super-love, being twins) HWGA

Go home for lunch, but eat very little (I dunno, I'm just not hungry by the time I get home). Go to school for 1-15 minutes (seriously, these past two days I've gone in, talked to my Co-op teacher for 1 minute or less, then left) leave for home, and spend the rest of my afternoon watching Gilmore Girls, surfing the web, and thinking about what I should be doing with my free time, but not actually doing it. HWGA.

Need I say more? I could, but I smell distinctly of horse, and it's past my new-set bed time (can you believe it? 9 PM is my bed-time now. I haven't had a real bed time since I was, what, ten? I'm 18. Put that into perspective. But it's the only way of me catching back sleep I've lost, and I keep losing every night because I wake up at least 3 times, more like 5-7)

Guh. Gah. Goh. Gih.

I might just enter Life's Just A Nightmare if I can write something that's not filled with brackets and is longer than 3 sentences.

The Hard-To-Understand: Leave Me Be

Well, I guess it's true- tragedy does show who your friends really are. Yeah, I think the whole best-friends-turning-ex-best-friends could count as a tragedy.

Sadly, I have found I have very few friends.

But I'm not all that sad, really. Don't ask me why. It's depressing, indeed, that there are so many people going behind my back, telling me one thing but doing another, supporting back-stabbing efforts, etc. But do I really want these people to be my friends? Not really. No. Not at all.

I can't even trust my own brother because of them. It's not that easy to not tell me if he's done something like before. He's not told my parents a bunch of things- why the garbage unit got broken, the fireworks tied to the power pole, the other, numerous, things he's done. Who's to say that when I leave today to go riding, he won't immediately call up all his friends and all my ex-friends to come over and party?

No. I do not wish to be friends with them. I wish to be gone, and I wish they'd leave me alone. For they don't seem to want to leave me be. Oh how they must obsess about me, whilst I just try to focus on school, my career, and what book I will be reading next. A lot of the time when I moan and groan about them is because, hey, Sara's at it again! Getting people to say things to me, or manipulating the people around me, or whatever.

I've just got this to say to them- "Leave me be, get on with your lives. I do not care to be your obsession or your friend. Go away. Grow up."

“Probably the most neglected friend you have is you. And yet every man, before he can be a true friend to the world, must first become a friend to himself.” - L. Ron Hubbard

To Fix What's Broken

If something's not broke, don't fix it.

What if something is broke, but you don't want it fixed anyways? Why does everyone continue to believe that you do want it fixed?

Why do they insist that it be fixed?

No. Right now, I don't have anything broke that I want fixed. I've got a damaged ankle I wouldn't mind being mended forever, I've got a damaged wrist (or two...) that could do with some fixing for the future.

But nothing is begging to be fixed. Nothing broken.

If what everyone thinks needs to be fixed was...

I daresay I'd break it again.

That's how much I love it being broken.


College Scholarships

So the math stuff? Not really "due" per se, just outlines for people who need them to keep up (heh... I don't know what he's talking about!). But now my mom's got me on this loose schedule of when we'll do math, which will probably fizzle out until the next time a crisis like this comes up. Yeah. Gotta love my family. We moan and groan about each other's procrastination habits while nurturing our own.

Every time I see a number beside my "professional" email, I think "OH MY GOD, IS MY COLLEGE ACCEPTANCE/DENIAL IN?"

But it always turns out to be some scholarship information from ontariocolleges.ca- some contest I'll never win, some essay to write that I'll flounder at, a form to fill out that I'm not even eligible to win the prize because I don't have a certain bank card (curse you, Scotia Bank- You've got all the contests, don't you? Or should I be cursing BMO for not hosting any??).

I mean, I'd probably try for one, but I honestly 1. Don't need it 2. Don't want to take it from someone who is looking at a 19,000 per year price tag on their education (my friend Abir, for example). My family struggles like the normal family (or around here, at least, where struggling is known community-wide, all but for maybe those houses on Scenic Drive) but my college education has a price tag no where near Abir's. 3,000 a year (or a little less, I believe) isn't all that much when you compare it to the price of becoming a doctor.

And I don't really fall on the real "financial need" category. Not getting a scholarship won't keep me from college, but it might keep someone else.

The Bad Side Of Procrastinating

Obviously I'm procrastinating because I'm posting so much.

I received In A Heartbeat by Loretta Ellsworth yesterday. I put it back in the package it came in so I'd be less tempted to read it right-off, but I'm still so tempted. I have to finish my Math module, and probably my Co-op and FNS stuff too. Gah.

This sucks.

New Layout

So I changed the template, and the name, but I'm leaving the URL the same for a while. Both because I don't have a URL in mind, and because I'm still using this specific link for things. Oh, and because I'll probably change the name and the template a thousand times in the near future, as is my way.

I need to decide what color I want to dye my hair, as it will be the color I will see years from now when someone decides to dig up my year book and embarrass me completely. Yes, grad photos are coming up. I still have short-ish hair. I hate the height (length?) right now, so I just keep it up in pig tails, and the occasional half-up pony tail.

I wish my hair was longer, just for this picture. Chopping it off was a good and bad idea. But hey, if I can get the color down pat (I was thinking blue, but the problem is I don't know how to get blue, as I would need a really good dye, say Special Effects, and I haven't found anything around here, even in the special dye stores for hairdressers only. I tried it before with Icecream but it bled out and turned silver, not sticking to the roots and barely to the rest of the hair) then (whoa, big bracket there) I will be set. I can curl my hair and not have to worry.


Okay, so it turned out to be FOUR things...

Three (or more) things...

-I woke up early (not unusual as of late, as I always wake up at exactly 7:11 AM every morning now, for no reason at all) and couldn't go back to sleep. As well, I wanted to take a shower before school as I was feeling pretty icky. Since today's a day 2, my class doesn't start until 10:05 (rather than 8:40). I usually sleep in till 9 (or later, as the sleep button is my hate-to-love friend). I guess I could have gone back to sleep, had I really wanted to try (by forcibly not trying... it's a very complicated line of thought that does sometimes work), but I really really wanted that shower now that it was in my head (note: even though I could have had one after my class!).

And then I get to class. The teacher isn't there. Turns out, it was a sign out. Not as mad as I would have been had it been a Day 1, but still kind of peeved cause now I'm feeling quite tired.

-I really want to change the layout and name of this blog. I thought it was clever and all-that for the first two days (after all, it came on my spur-of-the-moment decision to make a new blog, and I got it from staring at my Vitamin C Supplement bottle- come on! That's a winner in my mind!) but now it's wearing thin. And I don't like oranges. You might think that I do, by the look of this blog, but I don't. Actually, I hate them. Clementines, love them, the color, love it. Oranges? Hate 'em. It's a miracle I actually like the taste of the supplements. If you hand me a glass of orange juice, I will run away.

-I also really want to start a book review blog. I have been for.. oh golly, 3 years now? Or more? It's just, well, when I START something, I rarely ever keep up with it. I mean, my Trapped Inside story on Mibba was abandoned for months on end before I thought "Hey, I like this story, others like this story, and they'll probably find out where I live and knock on my door with pitchforks and flaming torches if I don't continue." I haven't regretted it since (well, except when Exams come, and homework piles up...)  So I'm pretty much afraid of starting it, then ditching it. I don't know why I'm so scared of this than other things...

Plus, If someone asks me to describe a book, I'm at a loss for words. And a lot of the time (well, as of this year, grade 12) I don't have time to read all the books I really want to read. Between November and the end of January, I read I think 2 books (other than Oryx and Crake, which was the English requirement and the source of my ban on books) and the books I did read I wasn't supposed to read- I was supposed to be a good little student and stay away from reading for enjoyment.

So... I think it's still under discussion in my head. Plus, I'd need a title. And I don't know if, if/when I get there, I can handle possibly giving a bad review to someone who personally asked me to review their book, or their client's book. If/when.

-I use brackets a lot. It's a problem. I know. I'm trying to fix it. Honestly.

Math Modules

Guess what I found out?

The math module 1 that I haven't started yet (I always put off the things I don't understand- it's a stress thing) is due on the 25th.

So I've got 2 and a half days to finish 9 units.

This is why I won't be at all good at the whole Self-Pace program at Westmount, and why I'm glad I didn't fall for the hyped-up perfect-school-of-all presentation they gave way back in grade 8. HP might be called a lot of crappy names, but it's a pretty good school with a good amount of cool teachers. And I can actually pass here and bring in Honors awards.

So there.

Back to working on my math module (half of which I don't get...)

EDIT: Okay, note, 2 1/2 days with school there, and Thursday I have riding (so pretty much from 3-8 I can't do any work at all) and then the whole insomnia thing (which, you'd think is a good thing- more time to work on math, but my mind goes to mush after a certain point, and I need to start making a really good effort of getting to bed around 9 so I can sleep by 10/11)

[x] Careful What You Wish For

Me and my dad didn't get along. From when I was in grade 7 till October last year. Just a couple of months ago. We just stopped fighting. Suddenly. Bam. One day we had our hands at each other's throats (whether this is just a saying or not, I'll leave it up to you to decide) and the next? We were hugging each other and never had another fight again.

I wanted people to care. I wanted my mom and dad to care, or at least show me they cared, despite everything. Because my mom used to care about me, she did. She used to take my side, because a lot of the time my dad was in the wrong. But then fights broke out between them, and she had to choose- me or him. I can't blame her for choosing him. I'd be gone in a couple of years, but she'd have to live with him forever after that.

So I was alone. My dad hated me because I wouldn't back down. My mom hated me because... Well, I could say because my dad hated me. Because she took his side. But maybe she didn't hate me because he did. Maybe she hated me because by fighting with him, I made her choose my dad's side because she couldn't choose mine with him around.

But sometimes, she hated me because he had spread lies to her. He told her things I never did, and she wouldn't believe me. I don't know why. So it was a combination of both.

So I guess I wanted them both to show that they cared. To take back the words they said (one I will always remember- "Thanks for showing me what a horrible mother I am. I have the worst daughter in the world.").

Mom hasn't changed. She's still the mom she was- she always cared when we were sick or hurt or upset, except that after she said those words quoted above, I stopped telling her things.

But my dad? He turned around completely. We're still getting used to this whole not-fighting thing. We're still trying to figure out what circumstances require a hug (and more often than not, we hug just to make sure we've covered it). Because if you knew the whole story, you'd know the peace started with a hug.

Now he's worried about the fact that I don't eat at lunch (I'm not that hungry when I get home, but this whole worry spurred a grocery shopping trip to pick up food for me alone, food for me to eat for lunch. I've hardly touched it because, well, I'm not hungry).

And then at supper today when I wasn't feeling well at all (mentally, physically, emotionally. Insomnia will do that to you) and he listed off what we were having for supper, I felt like being stubborn and morose and saying I wasn't hungry and I didn't want anything. He came back and listed off a few more items I could have- including "fresh baked bread." and I was silent as he left. When he called us out, I pointed out that it wasn't fresh bread, it was pre-baked and pre-frozen. Something that before October would have set him off for sure (it wasn't my intention to set him off, again, I'm a bitch when I'm all-around upset).

Instead he shrugged and amended his statement. I grabbed a few slices and turned around as he began to suggest something else, but he just stopped and said "Okay."

He also came up to me and told me what he does to help him sleep. I can tell he's worried about me, and he cares now. And I feel bad for making him worry. Some of the things he worries about are things I've been doing since forever, and he just seems to notice them now. I don't enjoy seeing him worry about me because of something out of his control. I've always been like that- I like the thought of someone worrying about me, in my mind it triggers as "I care about you," which triggers as "good," but I don't like it when they actually worry. I don't like worrying, and I don't want others to worry for something I've done....

Yeah. We still get on each other's nerves. We step on each other's toes and press each other's buttons. But it's more likely to happen by accident or just by not realizing what we're saying. And we're more likely to shrug it off than to explode.


What is the Definition of "right"?

I wrote half of this in F&NS class, and the other half on Facebook for some important people to read (which they wouldn't have read otherwise). It's choppy, messy, and it's my thoughts as they spilled out.


That is what a sign clipped to the top of the whiteboard in my Food&Nutrition Sciences classroom says.

It bothers me. Not because I believe I've done the "wrong" thing to someone recently (I don't think I have...) It's because I want to know what the definition of "right" is, other than the direction, and I don't. I can guess, I can contemplate, I can write down paragraphs of what I think "right" is, and maybe boil it down to a sentence or two, but I don't think I'll ever be 100% sure.

So, what is the "right" thing? If you ask around, I am sure you will get a colorful collage of different answers, especially in high school. You'd get a lot of joke-answers mixed in with the deep-thought, deep-dug answers as well as those in between the two extremes. You'd even be met with silent answers- the shrugs, the eye rolls, the smirks that hint that in their mind, you're off your rocker.

One of the most popular answers, I'd assume, would be that it depends on the situation. If I were to choose an answer and leave it like that, I'd probably say the same thing. But I'm not in the mood for such an answer that leaves so many ifs, ands and buts. I want the real truth. I want a definition of "right" that encompasses every situation, every if, every and, every but, and leaves little to no questioning.

The problem with "it depends on the situation" is that it gives no clear meaning to "right" or "wrong." With such a definition, doesn't it allow anything ever seen as "wrong" to be suddenly "right"?

Can the right thing one day be the wrong thing the next day? And vice versa?

Yes. That seems to be what it's saying. So, how do we boil that down. How do we make it applicable in a easy-to-read, easy-to-use form? How do we finally define what "Right" is based on this philosophy if "right" and "wrong" are constantly changing places? How does someone properly, solidly, and truthfully define it?

And there are always more than one answer, one "right" way to go. How do you choose? Here's where either you go to "Whichever one is most right," (which seems to me is begging the whole debate to start from the beginning) or "Whichever is right concerning you."

Which is pretty much to say (in my eyes) whichever answer will make you happy while still being morally well.

This argues the question of what if you're not self-centered? What if you somehow care about who will be hurt by you choosing what is "right" for you because it's "wrong" for them (which gives another pathway to another argument about what is "right")? Yes, you are better off, but what about them? You'd be feeling pretty guilty, I think, so was the decision really "right"?

What if either answer you chose would hurt someone, and you decided Hey, I can't take hurting anymore, so I need to choose what's right by me, instead of what's right by them? What if no one understood this, no one saw your effort to choose right and blame you for choosing wrong? Are you Right, or are you Wrong? Is the result chosen by how many people vote for either one?

Right isn't always as easy as following a rubric or answering a math question. It's this fuzzy grey area that just gets more fuzzy and shaded the deeper you peer into it. It's an argument that can and will go on and on forever. It is a question that has an answer much too complicated for daily use. It could drive someone insane, really.

So, what is your definition of "right"? What is the "right" thing to do?

Book Contests :D

So I've been entering a lot of book contests (if you know me at all, you know I love books :D )

I officially love The book Depository- it is a fabulous idea. So here's a link to a contest that can get you a book (under 20$) from there :)

[x] ends 3/6


You can win a book from Jan/Feb here:

[x] ends 2/28


 Sing Me to Sleep sounds good!


 A review by Flipping Pages For All Ages: [x]

And... The blog tour/interview! [x]


So many books to win at Steph Su Reads' Blogoversary Giveaway: [x]


Huge one here, with a great selection!


The Afternoons Off Continue

Again. I'm here again. I went to school for about 5 minutes and find out that Bassani isn't there. Therefore, I can go home.

I'm glad my house is so close to the school. Otherwise, I might actually be mad. I'm just a bit annoyed because I don't want to do anything I'm supposed to be doing, therefore I have nothing to do.


The Problem With Grad Is...

According to the preps in my FNS class, anyone who is thinking about not going to the grad party is crazy/stupid/etc.

And this of course includes me.

Because I'd rather not spend the last night of highschool with people I hate, with people who hate me, and with ex-best friends who betrayed me and threw me away.

Maybe I'll take my grad dress and go to the brow that night.

For Once, I Love You Because I Want To, Not Because I Have To

Because you are family, and it's not about having to love you, it's about wanting to love you.

And trust me, I do.

Pessimistic x Pessimistic = Fail

I once dated a guy who admitted to me that he liked me because I was always happy and optimistic.

Truth is, I'm quite pessimistic, or at least a realist. Yes, I'm happy at school, but its because if I'm not happy, then I get bugged and yelled at and no one ever lets it go. He had never seen me when I was really down, and never heard or read the things I said/typed when I was sitting alone in my room on a slow night. I reveal to some people how I'm feeling (less now, because of obvious reasons. I started closing up a couple of months ago really). He never asked anyone how I really was.

So I felt forced into being happy. You know what? I can't even remember how I came to like him. I think it was one of those temporary things, and the whole thing that he decided to ask me I decided to say yes.

He also hated one of my friends because she was a bit on the loud side (a lot of people hate her for this, she doesn't know/care though). I asked him what he'd do if I was as loud as her (which I could be, and still can be, because I tend to have sugar and sugar has a big effect on me) and he said he'd smack me.

Added onto that, he was a very pessimistic person himself. Never wanted to help himself, just wanted pity. I'm glad to say I'm better than him! (It isn't too hard, honestly!)

That "relationship" didn't last all that long. Ended in the funniest way, I think I will never forget it.

I decided I needed a break for the Victoria Day Weekend, a simple "We're not over, but I just need to figure some stuff out, so no lovey dovey stuff, please."

Came back on Tuesday to everyone saying me and him had broken up, that I had dumped him, and a few times he had dumped me.

What did I do? I went with it :) Greatest break up ever. He didn't even ask me about it until a week later.

The point of this post? No idea. Maybe it's attesting to the fact that I can't stand pessimistic people. Just as I probably can't handle dating a guy with an explosive temper (coincidentally, the one guy who I've dated who didn't have a temper lasted the longest). Maybe opposites do attract.

Imagination Station

So I've learned to not write Trapped Inside at school, as it makes me not want to write at home, and I end up changing the whole thing anyways...

Tuesday, I think, I was sitting in the library wanting to write (well, do anything really, except work XD) but not knowing what to write.

So I started writing a little scenario I've gone over in my head oh, maybe two hundred times since I was thirteen (and I'm thinking that maybe that's too little of a number!). Always evolving, terribly cliche, basically my imagination running amuck and dragging me along with it.

I just looked into my chocolate milk (which I only put a little bit of chocolate syrup in it cause I looked at the sugar content, and I had just watched a video in FNS about diabetes...) and I thought it was water, just a bit of a foggy water (nearly the same color as the mug). Wondered "Wait, when did I get water? ISN'T IT SUPPOSED TO BE MILK?" Panicked. Realized. Calmed down. Back to the post.

Anyways, it's a very very long scenario. And no, it's not all happy-happy oh my god, this is all happiness and gumdrops type thing. Some of it is rather disturbing.

So I wrote it in a way that if someone ever read it to critique it, they'd end up with a good hundred pages of typed critique for the five or so pages I hand-wrote. It skips, it goes on frequent tangents, reveals plot that is only added in later and is all for dramatic purposes in such a way that kills the drama entirely...

It might be the crappiest thing I've ever written. I also wouldn't be surprised if it was one of the best things I've ever written.

I'm looking forward to pt. 2. Which also includes a lot of aspects I didn't even bother including in pt 1. And I'm proud.

By the way, it's a VERY long scenario- takes up about 3-4 years (depends when I get bored of the eventual happy ending and want to go back to the drama and uncertainty of beginning parts) and then has a bunch of flash backs to the previous 17-18 years.

Right now? My current imagination is on flash-back mode because I decided, screw storyline in my head, I just want to imagine these parts and skip to wherever, whenever.

Ah. I love me.

The Good in the Bad

Something good comes out of everything. I truly believe this.

My parents are more supportive than ever of me, and they have told me numerous times how proud they are that I have my own ideas, my own brain, and don't fall subject to peer pressure- especially that I haven't fallen into the hole Sara has.

I might have lost a lot of friends, but I didn't lose myself, and I will always have family.

Something I didn't realize till recently.

Grad Photos

So Grad photos are coming up.

This upsets me.

One, possibly the most important thing, is that my hair has not grown back to the length it was before I got pissed off with it and decided, hey, lets chop it to my chin.

Of all the times for my hair to grow slowly, the period between then and now it had to do it.

And then there's the photos themselves. Sure, there's the traditional one-person photo, which was a given. But me and my friends kind of said "Hey, let's get one together!"

Started with probably me Sara and Becca way-back-when, when we were actually best buds (for the 4th, 5th and 6th time). Then me, Sara and Michelle.

Then Me, Sara and Rachel.

But we all can guess what happened THERE. lol. Huzzah.

So now I'm seeing if I can get Abir and Julia to have a photo taken- for NaNoWriMo sake...

As for my hair, I dunno. I might curl it.

Family Back Up

It wasn't exactly what I'd hoped, but my whole family now knows what all happened, and my brother understands never to allow it to happen again.

"'it'? What's 'it'?" you ask. I can't really say, but there's one less way for Sara to torment me, which is always good. I wished my mom would have restrained herself, but at the same time I can understand why she didn't. It's not just the deeds Sara's done towards me, it's the situation as well, which wasn't the most forgiving.

I think everyone's starting to understand that I won't ever be friends with Sara again. If we hadn't passed the point of no return the day this all started (or rather, the day it all ended), we have certainly passed it now. Or rather, she has forced us to pass it.

Maybe, maybe the day after it all came to an end, I would have eventually forgiven her. But then Thursday happened, and then it just continued to snowball from there. And then it landed now, where my family may forgive her after a long time (if I became friends with her again), but they'd be wary all the way, but the second I decided hey, maybe I *could* forgive her for what she's done, they'd tell me "Are you SURE?" and proceed to remind me of all the Why You Shouldn't Do It.

Despite what I might have said even half a year ago (wow, it seems like so much longer than just four months since me and my dad just suddenly stopped fighting, and I mean literally suddenly stopped. There was no cool-down time. It was just one day we were fighting, then the next we weren't and haven't fought again. This was before this blog was reborn) my family is a big role in my life. We might not sit down for family game/movie/whatever night, we might not share everything that happens on a day to day basis, and we might avoid family functions like the plague, but I don't think I could take Sara back, even if she crawled up to me on her knees and begged (though maybe my parents would accept that) simply because my family would have so much concern and doubt about it. That is, if I got past my burning (and growing steadily) hatred for my one-time Best Friend Forever For Life Fo' Shizzle DIGTR Did I Get That Right? *High Five* first.

(Yes, we came up with all that slowly over the course of what? three or four years when we decided BFF wasn't good enough. I decide to smile on that instead of frown, thankyouverymuch)

It seems all a waste now. Oh well.


It takes a bit, but I can put things in perspective.

What happened this weekend? What Sara did? Mattered more than a lot of things a couple of hours ago.

But I still believe in my Prince Charming. I still believe in my Knight in Shining Armor. And I know that if this still bugs me when I find him, he will make it all better. Because he will be more important than these girls who enjoy going behind my back, who enjoy trying to torment me.

Yup. It might be silly. It might be over-expecting. But one day, someone will listen to me and be on my side. Either that, or this all won't matter anymore.

These high school tufts set up by Sara and Rachel and everyone else? They won't matter. Those people, they won't matter. They don't matter.

It just takes a bit to put these things into perspective.

It doesn't work that way.

I'm closing my eyes and counting to ten slowly.

It works, except it's not good to do in the morning. I just fall right back to sleep.

Now I'm trying to answer my questions/whatever with a child-like frame of mind.

"I don't want to cry anymore"
"Then don't."
"It doesn't work that way,"
"Why not?"
"I don't know..."
"Then don't."

Except I haven't cried in days. It's just that feeling of crying.

Never Look Back

I'm probably hurting the most. I get that. I feel like I should be over this by now. I'm kind of ashamed I'm not.

But it does make sense. Sara and Rachel have each other. I've got Jenni who has problems of her own, and then I've got Michelle who isn't the best one to have, and then the list decreases.

I've got Abir and Jules, but sometimes that isn't enough, you know? I don't have someone standing beside me on the same boat as me. So... I don't know.

But I'm picking myself up still, moreso even. I'm getting there. It feels like it's been a month, a year. It's only been two weeks. Funny how that goes, huh?

This weekend will be good, which is why I'm not going to stay home. I'll be up at the cottage, silent, thinking. Doing things I couldn't do with them around. Being freer than free and seeing what I want to do, not what they always were making me do.

Add insomnia to the pot and you've got stew!

I'm trying to keep together a family that isn't mine, while dealing with being severed from it and replaced.

Emotionally draining? You have no idea.

My Favorite Memory

We lounged on the boat as it swayed with the tide. We let the sun beat down on our upturned faces. We smiled as we read and listened to music mixed with silence. We named the ladybug that nearly drowned, we commented on all the dragonflies landing on the water together for some love. We made up fantasies, stories. We told secrets and jokes.

It was cool, in a warm way. We had to take off our sweaters only to put them back on again. We stared out on the water, we looked out onto the other bank where a half-sunken paddle boat was barely hanging onto the ledge. We marveled at the houses that were two, three storeys and must have cost over two million. A little community of rich people in this small, fishy-smelling place so close to home.

Our upturned faces. The smile on my lips, the heat on my cheeks. The music blaring from earphones because we had no real speakers.

The smiling. The laughing. The carefree way we felt. We'd survived the first week of school, and we were spending the weekend as if it was summer all over again.

Before the storms and the winter came. Before icy nails clawed their way through us. Before we were trapped together, then broken apart, with weak, tangled strings connecting us, but no longer tying us together.

And if someone asked me what I missed the most, it wouldn't be the parties, the sleepovers, the crazy stunts. It wouldn't be the talk of dreams and futures and hopes.

It would be like the giraffe to me- the animal that I hardly think to answer favorite, but never is less.

It would be that day on the boat.

Where everything was new, where everything was almost perfect.

Where there was only one small vein of ice, one small spidery piece of web that was no match for the warmth of the sun.

Missing You

As everything on my blog, I put it in the right order, but it shows up backwards.

If it means anything to you, if the name "Ammietia" means anything to you, or if you just want to know, this is the correct order of the newest "Missing You" series.

[I Feel We Have A Connection]
[Dreams That Make You Cry]
[Trying to Be You without a Photograph to Consult]
[The Circumstance of Words]
[Won't You Come Back]  (but I won't force you to)
[The Golden Life]
[What You Are]
[The Better Question]
[One Day, Your Name Will Be In Lights]
[Return To Sender]
[Unconditional Belief]

Or maybe this is the wrong order after all. I'm sure you'll be able to find it out

One last thing, to finish off this feeling of being a creeper-

I don't think I'll ever forget you.

*sheepish grin*

So I went to the mall -alone- for the first time ever.

It's actually not that bad. I meant to go search for my dad's present (his birthday is on V-Day) but went straight to the books (because... well they're books!). I spent a good hour out of the hour and a half I was there looking at books. And I didn't have one person say "Can we go yet?" "This is boring!" "Gosh, you never STOP looking at the books!" and "I will drag you out of here if we don't leave now!"

:D It was good.

I never did find out what to get my dad though :P But I got myself a Booster Juice for a day well spent!

Family Therapy

So all the extra sleep I got Saturday night? (about 9pm-12:30 pm, with a few interruptions)

Gone. All because I'm playing therapist for a family that isn't mine anymore.

Once I leave the family, I learn more and more about them. Wow.

waiting for that person

I'm waiting for someone to ask what's wrong, listen, and say "Oh okay, I'll be here if you want to talk"

And not question that 12 years is being thrown away.

Yes. I know. It's 12 years. I know more than most people what's being thrown away. Don't tell me I shouldn't, can't, won't. Don't tell me you wouldn't.


And if I'm okay with it? Am I a bad person? No. No I'm not.

Still waiting for that person to come by.

Stuck in Syrup

I'm trying to move on, it's everyone else who's pulling me back.

Rick and Jenni are insistent that I be friends with Sara&Rachel. Since they are now their own singular entity.

I'm trying to not break down. I really am. Someone's got to believe me. They have to also believe me that I'm better off without the rest of "RST."

But it's hard when everyone is reminding you every day of the twelve years lost, and how "Stupid" this seems, and how one cannot just throw away 12 years.

As if this is my fault.

They chose it. I tried to stop it. But now I'm going along with it. It's healthier for me, if everyone would just let me start getting away from Sara&Rachel. Which everyone seems intent on not doing.

God. Now I have a headache, and red puffy eyes from a crying fit I couldn't stop and I didn't even start.

But I'm going to try even harder to bring myself to some kind of "okay" point, like I was when it first happened. This week is the week for that, and I'm not going to say anything about it to anyone. Which means this blog here will probably become my outlet. And because I can't be sure of the secrecy of this blog, I might just make it private for the time being.

I'll decide tomorrow.

Throwing Things

I'm getting better at controlling my temper- I no longer blindly chuck things at the wall/door/window.

But now I wish I was still able to blindly throw things. I now want to throw something every day, even when I'm not angry (at least, I don't think I'm always angry...)

I haven't thrown something blindly in months.

I've hardly thrown anything at all.

My old cellphone without the heavy battery thrice, a kinder surprise rubber toy meant for throwing, and a glass of ice cubes, back when me and Sara were actually friends.

Too little.

Want Me There

I don't want to go back there, to be friends with them again. I don't, other than the whole habit thing. They say that after a couple of days, smokers don't feel such a need to smoke anymore. It doesn't seem to be the way with friendships. I was fine for two days, and then everything crashed down. Now I'm on and off fine. It's not the most stable thing.

But I want to see that they're missing me. That they want me back. That they aren't moving on as quickly as they seem to be. Without me, they seem better off, like I knew they would. It hurts still, you know?

It hurts so much, talking to Jen. Cause she mentions them like its nothing. Like it's not stabbing me in the heart again and again and again. And I hate it. But I want to help.

Addictions suck.


Dying vs. Dreaming

I don't think I've ever wanted to die.

I've only ever wanted to sleep and never wake up. There is a difference. I don't want to die, I just want to be living in my dreams, "permanently dreaming."

Presenting my New Best Friend....!

Kay, join me as I laugh at myself.

Ha Ha Ha. LOL, LMAO and ROTFL.

So, I actually thought I'd make friends easily in my -one- class of the morning. Honestly, I did. I thought "Okay, I'll sit down and start talking."

This lasted until I stepped into the class and saw a bunch of people who I don't particularly get along with (at very little fault of my own, may I add). Of course.

In short: There's a new girl in front of me, but she offered very little information about herself even though I tried to talk to her, and didn't ask me anything back. There's another girl, but she doesn't look even remotely interested in the course. And she's a bit away.

My best friend in the class right now? The teacher.

Yup. You read that right.

Life isn't fair, folks. I knew this, but I still hoped.

I'm gunna go scream into a pillow now. KThxBai.


Okay, in the past hardly anything has come to me while I was just sitting and waiting for it. Sure, some things had worked out that way, but when I think about it, it tends to be the things that don't work out.

Had I just sat and waited for the co-op to come find me, instead of going right up to Weil's and saying "I'm here. I'm willing to work. I want to co-op here. Take me on, instead of the other co-op students you have lined up," I wouldn't have gotten it. But no, I did and I got it.

But when it came to working for Weil's, when it came to having them keep me on, I waited. Waited for a "Safe time," for them to tell me "Hey, we want you." That doesn't work, because they didn't know I wanted them to want me. I wanted to be there. So I waited and waited, then I went for it, and it was later than it should have been, so I had to settle for second place, and second place wasn't what I wanted.

So when I get nervous about the idea of going early and sitting down and hoping, wishing someone who could be my friend will sit down beside me, I have every right. I tried it before. It doesn't work. I wish it did, but it doesn't. Not for me.

The ones who are looking for friends, but are nervous or shy? They won't see that in me. They won't come up to me. No, they'll sit in the corner, or against the wall, hoping. But if all of us do that, no one gets a friend. I have to be the one to step forward. I have to say "Hey, my name is Ammie. What's yours? Is this seat taken? Why'd you take this class?" because if I don't, I don't know if anyone will do the same for me.

So I have to start it. I have to initiate conversation, I have to risk making a fool out of myself.

So yeah. Tomorrow, I'll go into class. I'll stand by the door for a bit, see if anyone's lonely looking, and if I find someone, I'll go and start talking. If I don't, I'll move to plan B- sitting somewhere near the middle and hoping someone sits beside me.

I will make Friends

My life is full of uncertainties. I know I'll make it through them, I have no doubt really. It's just... how? Or maybe it's just the details.

I don't know when my lesson will be changed to. I'll find that out permanently come Thursday, I guess.

But more pressing, because I know that no matter what I'll be happier on a horse no matter the lesson as long as it's not the same as Sare's, is the issue of school.

I know that a lot of people would want to be friends with me. I know that I could find a lot of good friends, if they just knew me.

That's the thing- if they know me. No problem. I can make friends with people who know how I am, but how am I supposed to get people to like me if they don't know how I am? IT all seems so silly. And I guess it's the same with them too...

As well, what if I sit beside the most irrational person on the planet? I'm kind of stuck...

Gosh. But there's no way to get out of it. And honestly? I don't want there to be one. I don't want to enter F&NS and see Laure or Ash or Michelle sitting there. I don't want to see someone I know sitting there so I can chicken out and just try being half-friends with them- because those people seem to be the ones who will always be half-friends.

I want a real friend. 100% friend. Mine. Not Sares. Not Raes. Mine and whoever else, but not any of my current or ex friends.

I want a new life kind of thing, and this is a small piece. It's no moving to WM from where I am. It's not leaving and finding a small town with someone desperate to hire. But it's a start, and that's all I need. I need a place to put my foot forward and then I can go from there, I think.

No. I don't just "Think". I know. And maybe I already took that first step. Now I just have to find the courage to take another step, another step in the right direction, the direction that requires a little bit more courage, a little bit more determination. A step in the direction I know I truly want to go, instead of hanging back and finding an easier path.

Take that step. And if it happens to be small, if it happens to be scary, if it happens to be on a patch of shaky ground, who cares? Because at least I took it. At least I have another step to take from there, and I don't forever have to be on this small, scary, shaky piece of ground.

Not like I was. Not like the ground I just jumped off of.

I will go forward. I will say hi to someone Wednesday in Food and Nutrition Sciences. I will ask questions, I will smile and I will laugh. I will.

I will do all these things. And most of all: I will make a friend.

I will make friends.

Baking for my Family

If my family actually ATE baked goods, I might make them more.

Just an observation.

You Know You're Cool WHEN...

For the last (even less than a) year, even the exam review dates had nothing going for them.

Take last year- I had just returned from running away (which I always knew would be temporary, I needed to leave for a while though) very early from my ex-boyfriends house where the night before, he had tried to put some moves on me. A night that would not be erased (or even faded) from my mind even to my day. And then I don't know where I spent the rest of the day afterwards, but I wasn't in a very stable mental mode, and... welll...

Then today- where I'm going early in hopes of avoiding my ex best friend forever because she'd probably go later. BUT, she might just go early to avoid me because I'd normally go late. No doubt, though, she and my other friend had either A) a sleepover, or B) are meeting each other there, which means they'll probably be later.

And because of that, I'd better throw some socks on, and make myself look semi presentable just in case I do run into them and leave. Elaborate more later. Possibly.

xoxo kisses!