We’re Almost There.

December 2, 2008

Like every other person, I frickin’ love it when that date rolls around on the calendar — the date that school (or work, for that matter) closes down for the holidays. Whether it be for Summer or Winter (it really doesn’t make a difference; a disadvantage for someone who resides in the Caribbean, though I suppose some people would think it’s an advantage), the anticipation of waiting for the countdown to shorten is a KILLER, and I can’t help but feel that as you grow older, you grow even more impatient. I have a tiny box on my sidebar of my laptop — a “Beacon Of Hope Box,” as I like to call it. This little glint of light in complete darkness counts down the days left until school closes. Right now, the date on it is set to the 12th of December, and it is victoriously declaring that there are “11 more days until Winter Break!”. Really, I just love that thing.

With me, you see, there is never a simple, boring vacation. I never complain about “being bored,” and whenever I see little kids whining over their boredom during summer break, it annoys me to no end. Last year, for example. Nights were not for sleeping — they were for either going out with friends or talking to friends. During school days, we tend to creep into our beds with dazed eyes at around 10 or 11 — even earlier in some cases — dreading “the early morning after”. During any vacation, nights are exciting and eventful. Going out to eat, or going to see a movie, at 2 in the afternoon isn’t nearly as thrilling as it is when done at 9 at night (or later, but let’s not go there). Everyone — even the people who suck at staying up late *coughRobincough* — gets a blast of energy. It’s amazing.

I remember one particular event during Summer… I think last year? Ed, Robin, Lanora, Tyler and I were going to go in one of those photobooths, to take coomemorative pictures. The thing was, the machine wasn’t working…no matter how many times we pressed the button to turn it on, it just wouldn’t respond. In a sudden burst of hyperactivity, I yelled out “DO ET ZE RUH-SHEE-AN WAY~!” (Armaggedon reference — Lanora would get it), and rammed a cleched fist against the selection keyboard. The screen turned on, and we all celebrated. I was in the midst of my “the Russian way ALWAYS works!” speech when the screen turned dark blue, resembling the “blue screen of death” which people get on laptops. A wall of Matrix-esque text appeared, urging to user to “Peform CTRL+X”, and the five of us dashed away before we were accused of sabotage.
(I didn’t break it. Really. It was… having a moment. Purely coincidencial.)
Ahem…
Naturally, there were tons more things which happened over Summer ’08 — too many to go over. I often find myself looking back on those days, yearning for the next time when Edward and I can have the infamous conversation…
Ed: No school tomorrow.
Me: Or the day after that.
Ed: Or the day after that.
Me: Or the day after that.
Ed: Or the day after that.
Me:Or the day after that.
…you get the idea.

So, until the 12th decides to joyously prance into the scene, I’m trying to keep myself here in the present –in the boring, paternal days — both physically and mentally. It’s a lot harder than it sounds, especially with the sudden onslaught of tests which has appeared on the battlefield which is High School. Still, I’m going to forge on, daydream here and there *coughcoughduringchemistrycough*, and try not to fall flat on my face right before the finish line. I can’t help but wonder, though — what are we going to sabotage this time around?

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Not alone.

November 21, 2008

Growing up, I was never the girly-girl.
I never wanted to paint my nails shimmery, light pink, and I never wanted to get the new limited-edition Barbie, which just so happened to come along with a horribly tacky “tiara” which was decorated with a few cheap rhinestones.
I can vaguely remember myself, age 7, talking to one of the “popular girls” at school. Charlotte was her name, I think. “If you want,” she told me, whilst flicking her soft light-brown hair back in a very stand-offish way, “you can hang around with us at lunch today.”
Us referred to the ‘popular grrlz’ back then. My memory is horrible — I honestly can’t remember who the group consisted of. However, I do remember not being the slightest bit interested. “Sorry!” I chirped in response. “I’m going to play Samurai X with Joshua in the field today!”
(We used rulers as swords. It was the most fun thing EVER.)
My childhood consisted of bruises and band-aids. I loved to roll around in the mud and I dreamed of climbing a tree so high that I could eat the clouds (yes, I’m serious). I also went through a very *unique* stage, of which I was obsessed with being a vampire.
Things haven’t changed much since back then.
I’m a lot less tomboy-ish (mind you, I can barely resist the urge to jump straight into a miscellaneous puddle of mud on some days), but I honestly can’t see why people would want to conform themselves to be… like everyone else. I’ll hear about the current trends — things like reading Gossip Girl, Twilight, all of that sort of thing — and I’ll just raise an eyebrow and plug my iPod headphones back in. Whilst people are getting wasted, I’m home talking to my friends online or over the phone.
When people are “dancing” at parties to the beat of the new Akon hit, I’m in my bedroom blasting electronica and pop punk, jumping on my bed and generally thrashing the place (hey, I need to have some fun, too).
The point is, I’ve never even been aware of the prescence of “peer pressure” or “expectations.” I go out there, I do my own thing, and I have a hell of a time doing it. It’s the way to live. I don’t like to talk excessively. I don’t like having people follow me… which is probably why I love to hang around unique individuals.
Robin, Edward, Nora, Mai… they’re the ones who I can be found with on a day-to-day basis. April is my homegurrrl in Canada. Megan’s in the U.S. Ash-chan is in Trinidad; however, she’s in the school which I transferred out of 2 years ago. (We still talk a lot.) They’re many more who I can talk about — but it would take forever, and I doubt anyone would like to sit down and read this for the rest of their lifetime. xD But anyway… they’re all different from me, in many different ways. Yet, simultaneously, we’re exactly the same. I guess you could say that we’re all strangely compatible with each other. They complete me — fo realz.
They don’t necessarily understand me — though I’d like to believe that they do — but, they accept me. And my odd tendencies. In my old school, if word got out that I was a hardcore liberal, I’d be immediately dubbed as some type of freak. I guess the fact that it’s a really “conservative” school plays a key role in that, and we *were* a lot younger, but anyway…
I now wear my beliefs and opinions right on my forehead (figuratively speaking). I don’t impose them on anyone, but if someone starts bashin’, I start thrashin’. I’m withdrawn but not exactly shy, I’m quiet but not very delicate (okay, maybe sometimes I’m a *little* emotional. Whatever.) I am a bundle of contradictions — and I have people around me who, knowing that, still accept me. I’m pretty damn stoked about it, if I do say so myself.
Now, as you can see, I’m rambling on and on, so I probably should stop. I supposed the best thing in this world is having knowledge that you are not alone. I hope that everyone can have that knowledge — even if it’s only concerning one person.