Look At This Photograph...

...Every time I do it makes me laugh. I've been looking through old photos of my friends lately (on Facebook, where else?) and it baffles me how much everyone's changed.

My hippie friends were hipsters in grade nine. Skinny jeans, patterned hoodies, straightened hair, and headphones have morphed into flowing skirts, cosy shirts, cute slightly unruly waves and curls, and knitting needles (they're also old ladies now). The boys with super short hair once had hair that extended down their foreheads and the backs of their necks. Brown hair was blonde or, in one case, purple. Weight has been lost for the better, weight has been gained for the better. Quiet Christians have turned into party-hardy rebels. The annoying, horny boys are... still horny... but are now bearable to hang out with. Friends have been cut off with hair, and adorned with new wardrobes... even with one specific t-shirt. The arts have brought unlikely comrades closer than anyone could imagine. The creepier freshmen are the centre of attraction as seniors.

I finished my class production at 10:00 on Friday night. I hugged people, squealed excitedly with people who I never would have considered a friend less than two years ago. The girl who was scared to take the bus after 7:00 in middle school sat in the local diner and drank milkshakes with her friends until 11:00 and wanted so badly to accompany them to the party that followed. I told someone who I once spent half-hour long periods glaring at that he was great.

Things change so quickly, and I need these friends for more than just nine more months. In 3/4 of a year, I will be going to university. In 3/4 of a year, I will be leaving most, if not all, of the people I have grown so close to. I will likely say goodbye to my family and hello to a brand new frightening world of post-secondary education. The next step towards real life.

Reality. Why don't we escape that for a minute and consider my quite unrealistic goal of snagging the boy I like. A Herculean task with several steps... the most important being... "They end things." It's a terrible notion considering how happy he clearly is but, I don't know, there's something within me that just wants him. Speaking of relationships... if EVERYONE AT THE SCHOOL knows that two people are into each other and they're both just waiting for the other to make the first move, why don't they just collectively agree to get together? I mean, they made out at a party like 3 weeks ago, and the guy has already gone through the awkwardness of asking her out... over a year ago. So why don't they just stop being stupid and just sit down and have the conversation already? Everyone is just waiting for them to become a couple at this point. It's funny that as soon as the play ends my life becomes nostalgia and high school gossip. I am so lame

Major assignments completed: 9
Days 'til Christmas: 19

Weight lost: 32 pounds

Every Step

There's nothing like researching your billionth French project of the semester to drive you back into your blog.

Hello. I'm sorry about my absence for the past month. Between the school play and work and my incredibly dense workload for school, writing these little things has failed to be a priority. Anyway, I'm here now. =)

My life has officially become a bagful of stress. Top of my list right now? The lead in my section of the play that I was so excited about fell ill last Tuesday and I have not seen him in any sort of healthy state since. I was going to say that I haven't seen him period, but I have. Leaning against a doorframe, pale white, shivering. My director made him go home immediately. "So what's the real problem?" you might ask. "Just let him get better and find a suitable understudy." The problem is this: The casting that my teacher did was absolutely perfect. I may not be 100% my part, but he so was. Not exactly a compliment considering his character is a creepy, murderous, manipulative lunatic (he's the madman in Poe's The Tell-Tale Heart)... but it just works. Trust me.

This is the second time this school year that he's gotten really sick. His immune system is completely shot and it's gotten to the point where I'm more worried about his general health than his return to school. But let's not forget to acknowledge that this could not come at a worse time. Not only are we performing a play in which he is one of the stars in two weeks, but our school's 8-person improv team starts their season next week, and, you guessed it, he's a vital aspect. They're one of those teams that's developed a balance. When the full team's there, they are twice as good as when one or two are missing. God.

OK, so it's now about two weeks later and I'm finally finishing the blog. Sicky Boy is better now (his cough and insanely runny nose are the exceptions) and the aforementioned improv team made finals. Sicky Boy wasn't at prelims, but he's gonna be there. It's good to see him better now just because he was so miserable when he was sick.

I don't even want to talk about the complete and utter ridiculousness of my other courses, or the complete ridiculousness of my customers at work.

What I do want to discuss is my completely irrational new attraction. I've really known him for a little over a year and I've never been remotely interested in him... even as a person in general before. Suddenly, just as my whole life gets complicated, he becomes interesting to me. Very interesting. This not-my-type, very much taken boy who will never look twice at me is pretty close to the centre of my attention. I want to be around him all the time and he's a comfortable person to talk to and he makes me smile and he's always thinking what I'm thinking and I panic when I realize a time will come all too soon where he won't be around anymore because one of us will be out of this town (asyndeton, bitch -- Firefox dictionary doesn't know that word, but he would). I, on a regular basis, find myself hovering, trying to decide whether or not to reach out. I would give nearly anyone else a hug without any thought, but hugging him for some reason requires a bunch of calculation which usually equals "don't do it."

Life is difficult. This is why I HATE falling for people.

Major assignments completed: 9

Days 'til my third SAT: 3

Weight lost: 30 pounds

Takin' Care of Business

I wrap several slices of what is likely turkey (but honestly, I haven't a clue) as my co-worker, Jon, a Francophone who is intimidatingly bilingual, sings "She Will Be Loved" by Maroon 5 off-key and off-tempo. I roll my eyes but am nevertheless amused. He drops his stack of meat into a tray and notices it makes a funny sound. He proceeds to do this repeatedly, beckoning over our co-worker, Justin (another Francophone), and seems disappointed when neither of us seem to find the noise nearly as amusing as he does. We finish wrapping the meat and I serve potato salad to a particularly impatient customer.

Welcome to my second day at my new job. I have a name tag now, and my two co-workers who have shared my shift for both today and yesterday are becoming quite comfortable around me. As he rescues me from yet another stupid error, Jon teases me about my inability to wash the display windows without knocking stuff over. Justin makes a joke that I barely understand in French at my expense and then, laughing, says that he's not going to attack me with a box because he doesn't "know if it's dangerous." It's gentle, friendly teasing and since it's how all the deli workers treat each other, it makes me feel comfortable and as if I'm fitting in.

I'm just realizing now, much to my own amusement and probably to the amusement of my co-workers at the time, that the last thing I said to them contained a bizarre mistake. I called our boss the name of her boss, which must've appeared very odd indeed. My boss and her assistant are both quite nice and I've learned enough from both of them to run the cold food side of the deli pretty much unattended... I just need to learn how to do so efficiently.

Quite nice or not quite nice, I find the prospect of talking to her about my play commitments quite daunting. I have to ask for 3 days off in the beginning of December, and that's after asking for 2 full Saturdays off in November. All for the play.

The play's worth it, though. We were planning the set and how we're going to work Poe into the show so that he can knit everything together, and we all got so excited. This show is going to be the BOMB and will make Ms-High-and-Mighty-Director-Girl feel like not giving us the show for high school review feel pretty damn stupid about it.

Somehow with all this work, though, I'm already watching season 7 of Red Dwarf. Let me note that last time I blogged, I was on season 3... and that was pretty much Sunday. I think I may be addicted and I'm probably just going to watch the whole series all over again once I'm done. I can't even get over how much of a nerd I am.

Anyway, since, for some reason, I decided to blog at 11:40 at night, I'm going to head straight off to bed right after posting it. Ta-ra!

Major assignments completed: 7
Days 'til my second SAT: 14
Weight lost: 21 pounds

Wax Paper Cuts

After over a month of job hunting, I have finally landed myself work. I've been taken on by the local grocery store -- I'll be working as a deli clerk: making sandwiches, arranging displays, slicing meat, wrapping meat, selling food... It's a good first job. The uniform is horrendous but that's to be expected. My first shift is on Wednesday... and I've gotta say this new workin' girl is terrified. Here goes the beginning of my employment experience! Help!

In a less positive aspect of life, the director of the other drama production this year has refused to give us the opportunity to be reviewed... even though their cast and crew is entirely made of undergrads... while we're all seniors. Don't get it. Gah.

Speaking of drama, I adore my teacher:
"hi ladies.

Glad to hear you went out after our chat. I was there far too late and got pretty much nothing done. BUT the good news is that the play is cast and that I will be relying on you two heavily for many things. RE [high school critic program], I will talk to you tomorrow about this. I will be there for improv at lunch if you wanna drop by OR plan to hang around after school FOR THE NEXT TWO MONTHS!!!

MWA-HA-HA-HA (evil, malevolent voice)
K"

Do you have a drama teacher that sends messages to her students that are that awesome? I think not. =)

I have to start getting down to work on my college applications. With 10 planned, it's definitely going to take awhile. But until then, I'll sink into my Kaley Cuoco Monday Two-Show Marathon: 8 Simple Rules at 9 on YTV, and The Big Bang Theory at 9:30 on CBS. It's party time, kids! =)

Major assignments completed: 6
Days 'til my second SAT: 17
Weight lost: 19 pounds

Straight as an Arrow

I remember when I was 13, I'd sit up at night and wonder what would happen with my family if I turned out to be gay. Not that I had or have or ever will have anything against gay people, but I sure wondered if it would make things complicated.

Turns out I wasted a bunch of time... I am definitely not gay. Since then, I've had crushes on a whole variety of guys. The jock, the nerd, the brooding bad boy, the nice guy, the gay guy (don't ya hate it when it turns out that way?)...

Anyway, I'd always known I was straight but once puberty fully kicked in and I was into guys because it was chemical and not because it was socially expected, I confirmed it for myself.

The reason I bring this up today is because there's this guy at a local restaurant who works the bar and I'm totally in love with him. He's there every time I go to the restaurant and he's adorable and cheerful and just all-around nice. Obviously he has to be nice (and flirty) 'cause he's a waiter, but I've seen him talking to his coworkers and he's the same way. Now obviously I'm not thinking about him in terms of a prospective romance, he's in his early twenties and I've got limits age-difference wise. Plus the likelihood that a guy like him is single is zero to none. But I was talking to my dad (let's clarify that I'm a totally Daddy's girl), and mentioned it in passing because he's never gonna talk to this guy. When I'm explaining why I would never go for him, my dad says "Well, he can't be that much older than you." This will stand true as one of the biggest "dot dot dot" moments in my teenage life. It takes my dad a few minutes to realize he's just encouraged his 17-year-old daughter to go after a college boy in his early-to-mid twenties.

So apparently hot bartender boy just sent my hormones for a ride because I was watching Red Dwarf tonight (hello, I'm your friend Ubergeek.), and the last guy who I would ever find attractive on the the show (well, second to last, maybe... I'm not about to fall for an android), Rimmer (played by Chris Barrie), just looked so sexy to me. There's something about him being all in black and taking on a looser personality...

He's just so sexy in this episode, I can't even explain.

In other aspects of my life, my drama teacher has finally decided that our class could do a production, thank God. I was starting to get a wee bit scared. We're doing a medley of Edgar Allan Poe short stories and I'm so excited. I'm stage manager which means I run everything which is TERRIFYING but just so amazing at the same time.

I have the second job interview of my life tomorrow. I'm up for a cashier job at my local grocery store. It's a good a first job as any and I really hope I get it. I just need to not get nervous and not get freaked out from my potential boss's seemingly upright personality. Wish me luck.

Major assignments completed: 6
Days 'til my second SAT: 19
Weight lost: 19 pounds

Those Damn Marks

Tip to life: don't let me know how important mid-term marks are for getting into universities the same day you let me know that my mark in English (the one class whose average you HAVE to include in what you send to the unis) is absolutely appalling. Don't get me wrong, I know some people would KILL for a 76. But I cannot deal with a 76. The schools am I applying to will not accept a 76. I have a little over a month to drag this pathetic mark up to something passable. Meaning basically the pressure's on to get perfect on absolutely everything until then.

I wish I knew that I was screwing up because I'm slacking off. But I'm NOT slacking off. The fact that I am working my butt off and pulling these kinds of results TERRIFIES me. You have no idea how badly I want to get my average adequate and fly off to Halifax next year, but I'm starting to get really scared that that's never going to happen.

I wish that was the only notsome in my life right now. But then there's the fact that I definitely applied to six places and didn't get hired at any of them. Let me emphasize that I applied at a MOVIE THEATRE. I'm trying to work out how I could be doing so poorly right now and I... just can't. I need a job... and I resent the 'rents a bit for discouraging me from getting job experience when I was a bit younger... because now I can't get ANYTHING.

So basically it's time to focus. I'm going to put my all into my English presentation tomorrow. Then I'm going to spend the next two and a half days studying like mad for my SATs (I'm going to do a practice test on Friday, I'll let ya know how that one goes.) I'm going to dive into every character that is required of me in my drama class. And I am going to figure out whatever my goddamn French teacher wants from us if it kills me. And that's all before this weekend.

Am I looking forward to creating a PowerPoint presentation, filming a movie, celebrating Thanksgiving, and doing my SAT Reasoning Test all in one weekend? Not exactly. Will I do it with all the joy I can muster? Of course.

As stressful as it will make my life, I really need that job. Shit.

(Oh, another lovely note: I just discovered that my fears on the me-sister-mum front are confirmed. That is all.)

Let's end this positively. When I go to Prague in March. I will know my roommate. It'll be my friend of nearly 9 years. <3

Major assignments completed: 3
Days 'til my first SAT: 3
Weight lost: 15 pounds

Sicky McSicky-Sick

Since I was 15, I've been calling the state of being sick "Sicky McSicky Sick." I wrote that in my agenda today (because for some odd reason I feel compelled to remind myself that the reason why a date is blank is because I was sick), and my friend read it out with the most incredulous look on her face. It was then I realized how absolutely ridiculous the phrase is. Sicky McSicky Sick? Really? I don't even know where that came from, I just know that whenever I'm sick, that's what I call myself when I'm notifying people. Why are you notifying people, you may ask. Well, it's the information age and what else are you really going to write in your Facebook status or on Twitter.

So comes the logical next topic. If you read my last blog, you'll know I recently went to NYC (I'll talk about that in a minute). What I didn't know when I got on that bus is that I would be sentencing myself to two days of bed rest because EVERYONE WHO GOES TO NEW YORK CITY GETS SICK. Legit. Everyone in our group came home sick or working on getting sick. My sickness came to be partway through period one at school... and it sucked majorly. I hate French as it is. So I ended up lying on my parents bed watching mindless TV for two days straight... and teaching myself how to play Beatles Monopoly. OK, I guess that part was awesome.

So. NYC. I had an awesome time. Sure, I got rushed around like nobody's business and I really learned who I can only deal with for a day and a half max, but I saw all the sights (hellooo, M&M World in Times Square?!) and got shown around by a hilarious, repetitive tour guide who was terrified of bees.... Oh yeah, AND I saw two awesome shows. Wicked and Billy Elliot. Both fantastic. Wicked was just as amazing as I was expecting and I had absolutely no complaints. <3 Billy Elliot... the lead boy blew my mind with his dancing (not so much with his singing) and his best friend had me dying with laughter. Yay, cross-dressing comedy!

Anyway, I'm pretty much better now... and am still amusing myself with television. I realized earlier today that even though I'm in love with music and theatre and musical theatre... I haven't been watching Glee. What?! So right now, I'm watching a boy in a wheelchair lead "Sit Down You're Rocking the Boat" from Guys and Dolls. Love. Quality television. This is after watching an absolutely terrifying episode of Ghost Whisperer. To think, world, I could've gone my whole life without seeing Jennifer Love Hewitt's eyes and mouth stitched together... and then seeing another much more creepy woman with the same ailment. I swear to God.

Theatre. Gah. This won't be my last rant about the disaster that my drama class is becoming. We have the best teacher. We have the best class since 2006 (they were amazing -- their production was entirely unforgettable, I still remember every second). We have two great scripts. We have some pretty damn good resources. So could you tell me why we seem to be not doing a production?! I admit that I'm not the class's strongest actor. I mean, there's a reason my film group put me on camera op and editing. But I am a theatre lover and I can see that my class has the talent to do it, even if we don't have the usual amount of time to pull it off. And I know that I can measure up to that talent if I work at it.

How the fuck did our year end up being the academically fortunate one that gets ripped off for everything else?

Wow. I ended this kind of cynical.

Major assignments completed: 3
Days 'til my first SAT: 7
Weight lost: 15 pounds

Summit Has Some Thinking To Do

I hate Twilight. Let me clarify that RIGHT NOW. However, I was looking back and forth between Stephenie Meyer's crapola and the CW's new series The Vampire Diaries (which, while it is what Meyer ripped off of, obviously only is on TV because of the success of Twilight), and I noticed that the CW seriously has it going on over Summit. Not only with the series they chose to bring to screen, but with the vampire-ing of their main actors.

Twilight: By the end of week one of Bella/Edward, we've got a super creepy vampire who is "vegetarian" and self-loathing and reads Bella's thoughts. Neither character has any development really, except, OH WAIT, they're both stunning. Good for them. Edward is, at this point, stalking Bella due to blood lust. Speaking of stunning, let's put the spotlight on Twilight's stars becoming vampires. The actors playing the fang-tastic (please don't misunderstand and think I am complimenting ANY character-building with that pun) characters are all absolutely gorgeous. When Robert Pattinson first appeared in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, I understood the phrase "my jaw dropped to the floor" for the first time. Their characters are supposed to be equally beautiful. But somehow, these make-up artists have managed to make them all hideous. HIDEOUS. I do not understand.

The Vampire Diaries: By the end of episode one, I'd say we're about 3 or 4 says into Stefan/Elena. Stefan also stalks Elena. But you legitimately believe he is being protective, not obsessive. OK, the fact he's interested in her because she's the twin of the lover he had when he was alive is weird. I like that he does not invade her thoughts, but eavesdrops. His disappearing act is much less creepy than Edward's "I, um, watch you sleep." And the human-vampire transformation? Both Stefan and Damon are, um, I'll let A Very Potter Musical's Darren Criss describe it for me: "super-mega-foxy-awesome-hot." The effects to show their vampire side are also WAY better. I will take Stefan's blackening eyes over Edward's sparkling chest ANY day.

So Summit? You've got some homework to do. Choose the better, more original series to adapt next time and give your stars some better hair and make-up.

In Phili news, I have my first ever job interview in the next week. Hello, I am freaking out. I have, what, fifteen minutes to convince this woman that I am worthy to serve coffee at her café? I don't mean that in a sarcastic, rude way, please note, I'm honestly super nervous. If I get this, I will be at an actual establishment actually serving actual multiple customers working with an actual cash machine. And if I do well, I'll be making customers actual coffee. What?!

I completely forgot that I have to write a Willy Wonka story this weekend. How do you work Willy Wonka's personality into a story in which you reveal how he discovered the never-ending gobstopper AND that it's a hardcore drug AND that his factory was just one big cover-up?! Impossible, I tell you!

I've been endlessly watching 8 Simple Rules for the past week (taking advantage of how little homework my teachers have been giving me... knock on wood) and I actually cried while watching the episode right after John Ritter's death. Gah, it was just so sad. I've decided that I'm actually going to get on studying for my SATs soon though... so I actually, y'know, pass them and have a chance at getting into NYU.

It's redonkulously sad that I have run out of stuff to say about my life this quickly. I'll get to making it more exciting soon. Hopefully I'll have freaky customer stories soon. *fingers crossed*

Major assignments completed: 0
Days 'til NYC: 11
Weight lost: 10 pounds

Uni Fury

I'm basically writing this blog to try and straighten out my thoughts and in hopes that someone will find this blog and give me some advice so that I won't waste my time.

At this point, I am applying to (count 'em) eight universities:
Boston University (Boston)
Carleton University (Ottawa)
Concordia University (Montreal)
Hofstra University (Hempstead)
King's College University (Halifax)
New York University (New York City)
Northeastern University (Boston)
Ryerson University (Toronto)

...To be continued. (Help me.)

Travelling

Just got home from the bee-ootiful United Kingdom --> the Isle of Iona in Scotland and London, England.

Why is travelling so hard and complicated?! Why did I have to take two planes, a cab, a train, two ferries, and a bus to get to one island across the Atlantic. Logically, shouldn't I have at most required one plane and one ferry?!

Next to a particularly dumb Air Canada teller-person-lady, I think that the complicated trip was the reason why my luggage's path got so goddamn screwed up. I arrived in Iona on Saturday. My clothes arrived on TUESDAY MORNING. That is a problem. We should not be living in a world where a girl has to walk around in the same 2 shirts (and pairs of underwear *cough*) for over four days.

Also: Why must I have to take THREE subway trains in London's Underground to reach my accommodations?! That was so difficult and so embarrassing and SO inconvenient.

I love going abroad, don't get me wrong. But the way we travel is in dire need of fixing.

The Fred Phenomenon

Anyone who has ever used YouTube knows who Fred Figglehorn is. He's a 6-year-old character created by a kind of obnoxious 15-year-old from Nebraska named Lucas.

The teenager's tools? The popular internet site, a personalized t-shirt, a hand-held video camera, and video-editing software that is able to heighten the pitch of his voice. Extensively.

About a week ago, Fred broke the million subscriber mark and for the past few months has been gaining subscribers at a rate of about 10 000 a day.

The epic question is, of course... why the hell is this guy so popular? Honestly, it has been proven by multiple spoof-makers that what he does is not particularly unique and it doesn't require much creativity.

The formula for a Fred video? Hold a camera above your face and run around a lot. Incorporate random screams. Refer to really bizarre sounding people in your character's life who have the same deep voice, without discerning between gender or age. Talk about things no six-year-old should know about.

The YouTube community is loaded to the brim with fresh talent. People who actually put days of effort into their videos. There are YouTube users whose videos could go on forever and you'd still be watching. Face it, after 2 or 3 Fred videos, it gets a little redundant and tedious. How, then, is it fair that Fred has over a million subscribers and most of the most talented have at most 100 000?

To Lucas's credit, he is a quite good actor. Regardless of his personal channel and appearances where he has used his real voice, there are still tons of people who believe that there is a disturbed six-year-old out there running around with his druggie mum's camera.

However. The fact is that Lucas's newfound fame is not really deserved. Running around filming yourself screaming and then raising the pitch does not exactly indicate creativity or talent.

His standard of comedy should be below the lowest, but instead is raised up high. What is our society coming to?