"WAKE UP, GABBY"

Those are the words which woke me up from my bad slumber two mornings ago (and by morning, I mean 3:00 pm). It seems that a bunch of my buddies thought it unacceptable that I was to be found sleeping at such a time, when the sun has passed its zenith, that sort of thing. So you know what they did? They barged into my house and yelled at me. I could distinctly hear The Prom Queen's voice above all the others (hence the "WAKE UP GABBYYYY!"), but I could obviously hear others, some yelling obscenities which are sure to make anybody wake up. One of the group even had the guts to storm storm up to my bedroom whilst I was dozing and see the array of (free) horror movie posters on the wall, and the messiness of a normal teenager's room.

Truth be told, I suppose it was time I woke up, but still, they were not able to respect the fact that I had gone to sleep at 8:00 that morning, and it seemed utterly ridiculous to them that I should be sleeping while they had Rock Band set up at Devlin's house.

I guess they really needed a plastic-guitar guitarist for the band.

Fifteen minutes later, all woken up, I was at Devlin's house applying my not-so-epic Guitar Hero skillz to Rock Band's flimsy guitar on Jet's "Are you gonna be my girl?". The Prom Queen's a-singing, the Hippie's a-shreddin', and the drummer's, well, a-drummin', and we pulled off some ill "Unison Combos", which I think means that we hit the notes at the exact same time or something.

Before all you critics have anything to say about the nerdiness of playing cheap plastic instruments and trying to mimic real rockstars even though we've got nothing on them talent-wise, I'd like to refer you to the pillar of sanity that is XKCD:

And it was fun. It's even more fun when you have someone who really can't sing, like me, but luckily, I stayed on the guitar for most of the time, only stepping up as the singer for "Black Hole Sun" since I was the only one who knew the song.

Memorable quote:

"Me: Damnit! We only lasted two minutes on Foreplay!"
"KateS aka Prom Queen: Don't worry Gabby! We'll last longer this time!"
"Devlin, walking in: WTF?"

Anyone like cherries? I have to climb on top of the shed-thing in the back and pick some cherries from the cherry tree, but there's always way too much. So if you like cherries, I don't think anyone would mind if you came and gathered your own little stock, make some pies, or something. They're good cherries. Usually.

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Ulysses Grievous Hawt Spectre Citron Ophilia Philharmonic Eyeless.

La voie de raison

Je m'excuse, mon cher public, de m'exprimer, pour la toute première fois, en français sur mon blogue. Il y a certains d'entre vous qui seront absolument incapables de comprendre ce que j'écris. Il y a en d'autres, et je pense que vous serez la majorité, qui comprendront un peu, juste assez pour ne pas être totalement perdu. Ensuite, il y aura une ou deux personnes qui seront capables de comprendre tout ce que j'écris. Mais malheureusement, il n'y aura personne qui sera capable de comprendre ce que je veux vraiment exprimer en mes mots. Telle est la façon dont le blogue fonctionne.

Si vous êtes du premier groupe, vous êtes foutu, et ça ne sert pas à grand-chose d'essayer de continuer. Babel Fish et Google Translate seront des outils superficiels.

Si vous êtes du deuxième groupe, vous pouvez essayer de comprendre, mais je pense que vous allez vous ennuyer.

Si vous êtes du troisième groupe, peut-être que vous serez content d'avoir un peu d'air frais dans votre face.

Pourquoi est-ce que j'écris en français?
Plusieurs raisons.

Cela doit faire plusieurs années que j'ai réellement écrit quelque chose en français qui a de la qualité, et qui n'est pas juste de la merde qu'on nous dit d'écrire dans les classes de français à l'école. À vrai dire, je pense que je n'ai jamais écrit quelque chose en français de mon plein gré. Alors, voici ma chance, non?

C'est bien connu que les langues latines sont des langues expressives. C'est pour cela qu'en anglais, on les appelle les "romance languages". Donc, il est parfois plus facile, et ça fait plus de sens, pour moi, de m'exprimer en français, mais je ne le fais jamais.

Pourquoi aujourd'hui?
Je ne me sens pas très bien. Ça passe, ça passe, mais quand même, je suis rempli d'angoisse.
Mes raisons ne sont pas très évidentes. Disons qu'autour de moi, je vois de l'angoisse partout. Surtout dans mes amis, certains de mes amis, qui eux, passent des mauvais quarts d'heure chaque jour, et parfois, chaque nuit. Je ne les comprends pas très bien, mes nouveaux amis, j'ai de la misère à montrer de la compréhension avec leurs problèmes.

Et pire encore, c'est la façon dont ils agissent qui m'angoisse. L'exemple le plus évident, c'est de la façon qu'ils s'expriment à travers leurs mots, dans leur blogue, avec les conversations que j'ai à travers MSN, etc. Quand je les vois en personne, ils ont un air carrément différent, plus souvent que pas, content. Mais j'essaye de percer leurs façades, car je sais qu'ils utilisent cette technique pour se dissimuler du monde.

Le problème, c'est que moi-même, j'ai de la grande misère à m'exprimer de la façon dont je veux m'exprimer en personne. Je ne serais jamais capable de dire tout ce que j'écris maintenant en personne, je me trouve incapable de dire ce que je veux dire devant les personnes avec qui je veux le dire le plus au monde. Car je regarde leurs visages, (enfin, certains d'entre eux) et je ne suis pas capable de m'exprimer. Je me renferme.

Et cela, c'est très, très angoissant.

Ah oui, c'est aussi angoissant que je me trouve le soir sans rien à faire, et que je passe des nuits blanches à angoisser, dans mon lit, et tout seul, marchant dans la nuit.

Au revoir, je ne signe pas, car ma signature est en anglais.

From day to day, summer (vocal rendition)

Yes, my first "vocal" blog. Unfortunately, it's just a reading of my previous blog post. It's a test of sorts, to see what I can do with it.

If everything works out right, expect my next blog to be entirely vocal, probably not scripted. A step under vlogging, but a step above writing (I love writing, however, so I'm not abandoning that, that's for sure.)

From day to day, summer

You know, sometimes you just want to do something, it's not exceedingly weird, but just weird enough that people question "Why?". Well, today was no exception. It would have been weird had my plans succeeded, and had not a number of factors come in to ruin my plan. For it was almost a plan, too, I had things calculated in my mind. And I had a stopwatch.

The plan was drafted late last night with my former associate, Juzeebull. Let me tell you a little bit about Juzeebull. No, I won't be mean. Let's just say... she's not the best person for the job. Sure, I've seen people arrive thirty minutes late before, but I mean, they had alright excuses. "My cat was on fire" is not a good excuse. Oh believe me, I love Juzee's cat, it's just, that, well, he wasn't exactly on fire, or running around the house throwing up, now was he, hmm?

Anyways.

I'll give you a brief overview of the plan.

The plan was to call into action the following:
1. Meet up with Agent Juzeebull at the designated Subway Station, at 2:00 pm.
2. Explain the rest of the plan to Agent Juzeebull during the alloted transportation time.
3. Provide Agent Juzeebull with the designated materials, which consisted of a pen and a stack of blank paper.
4. Rendez-vous at "a Starbucks on Queen Street", where subjects #1 and #2 should already be present, and totally unaware of our mission.
5. Find a suitable table not too far away from the table at which subjects 1 and 2 would be seated, pay attention, study, observe, and take notes on said subjects.
6. Due to lack of disguise, it would have been an open mission, and the instructions would have been to ignore the subjects should they attempt to engage in conversation, which they most certainly would have.
7. After our recon mission would be done, the mission would be over, and any normal social interaction could proceed.

Things that went wrong with the plan:
1. Agent Juzeebull was late, which almost made the entire operation have to be aborted.
2. There are quite a few Starbucks on Queen Street.
3. The subjects were not present at any Starbucks at the designated time of 12:00 pm. In fact, we were AHEAD of the subjects. It seems that subject 1 decided to sleep in. The fact that subject 1 lives 1:47 away from my house could have also jeopardized the entire operation.
4. I insisted that it was to be a COVERT operation, and Juzeebull did everything possible to spill the beans.

So, yeah. It was a total failure. In the end, me and Juzeebull just walked around the Eaton Centre for a little while, and on the pretext of an optometrist appointment at 5:30, we parted ways. (It was another one of her little tricks, she "forgot" that her appointment was actually tomorrow.)

Maybe it wasn't a total failure. I don't know. The subjects came and visited me later on in the day. They were both totally drenched from the rainstorms that occurred throughout the day. Subject 2 insisted with fervor "DON'T LOOK AT ME!!!", which makes me question why she would even bother knocking at my door if I wasn't supposed to look at her. Tell me, was I supposed to wear a cardboard box over my head and wait as you handed me the 2112 pin (which I do appreciate, actually), and then try and talk through the box, just so I couldn't see your oh-so-ruined locks of golden hair, Sonata?

Besides, I think it serves the subjects right to be soaked from the rainstorm. I think it's a sign from the heathens that you don't mess up my beautifully crafted plans.

Oh, and the pin has this picture on it:

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Ulysses Grievous Hawt Spectre Citron Ophilia Philharmonic Eyeless.

A Blogger's (Mis)Adventure

Most revered audience,
I have prepared for you another late-night style blog, where revelations of the mind would not normally take place during the daylight. I suppose I should hurry, sun's gonna be up soon.

You see, this night, I was hopeful for... well, an adventure, no more, no less, with L. Unfortunately, I suppose plans can change in a snap, and this most hopeful event was called off a couple hours before rendez-vous.

At it's most basic level, this made me sad. I had been looking forward to it for a little while. It's been stressing me out, many things have, naturally.

So, at the predisposed time of the rendezvous, I decided to have myself an adventure. Except, well, it's not really an adventure.

There are times where I just want to walk forever, you know, the classic scene, leave everything behind, leave the past, and just walk ahead. One step at a time. So, well, that's what I did. I walked, walked, walked. Toward the lake, really, but I stopped at Bloor. Bloor and Christie. Sound familiar? Yes, so I walked around, and into the maw of Christie Pits. It's an eerie place at night, especially since they'd closed the gigantic lights. I sat on a few benches.

And then, I continued, along Bloor, listening to, quite aptly, A Momentary Lapse of Reason by Pink Floyd. On the left, some Mexican restaurant blasting loud music, on the right, a karaoke bar, on the left, some guy playing electric guitar on a corner, on the right, the massive Honest Ed's.

Now, I don't want to go into alllll the details, but I guess in two hours worth of walking, a lot of things happen. I chanced upon a mattress lying on the ground just a couple of houses down from L's house, and since I was tired from walking around for a while, I dozed a bit on it. Quite an experience, I must say.

And then I passed by L's house, which is in fact quite a shrouded house, surrounded by foliage and all.

But anyway, I suppose it was time for me to go home, so I walked back up Christie, aaaaall the way up to St. Clair. On the way there, I met a bunch of homies from middle school just lounging about, so that was a nice little reunion.

Now, for the most action packed part of my little adventure: As I cross St. Clair to the north side, a car that looks a bit smashed on the side almost collides with me as I cross the street. Whatever, doesn't bother me too much. So I keep walking along St Clair, and the car drives past me, honks once, and turns on the next street, and stops the car. I just walk by quickly. He turns around, drives on St Clair again, honks AGAIN, and turns on the next street, and stops the car! I walk faster now, and make it to Arlington, but he's back on St Clair! He honks at me once, but unfortunately, he can't turn on Arlington, since it's a one way, so he keeps going. So I go up Arlington, and make it safely back home. I was expecting to see him rumbling down Arlington, but it seems he'd given up on stalking me.

Well, the sun's come up now, and I know I'll have trouble sleeping... And I have to spend all of today studying for my World Issues exam, which will be a pain. And very boring. And I'm still a bit... depressed, for lack of a better word, about things that haven't happened tonight. It's a sort of longing. I don't know, I won't describe how I feel into too much detail on here, it is, after all, a public blog.

Farewell, my most revered audience.

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Ulysses Grievous Hawt Spectre Citron Ophilia Philharmonic Eyeless.

Depuis L'Automne

Well, when I feel a little better, I'll be sure to make a blog entry about prom night, but for now, I'm really not feeling it.

There's something I love right now, it's the storm outside. It's magical, though it's really dark, the thunder is booming, the lightning is flashing, the rain is pelting, and as I'm listening to Harmonium, it's a bit enthralling, making me forget.

I had to wake up early today to go write the french exam, and it was just awful. The room, it was suffocating, I almost felt like I was going to pass out right there. I finished about 35 minutes in, and had to correct the lazy teacher (hypocrite, I know) on a couple questions which made no sense.

The rest of the time, the only thing I could do is sit and wait at the desk for what seemed like a long, long time.

Though I am sick in a little more than two ways, I still think I'll go walk outside after the storm's done, whenever in the night that happens to be. It's really pure and all, after a big rainstorm, and you can just feel the energy all around you.

So a few nights ago, I couldn't sleep at all for the whole night, I spent it twisting and turning in my bed. It was on a hot day, that's for sure. You see, my room kind of sticks out of the house, and it's not very well insulated, so during the winter, it gets really cold, and during the summer... Well, since it's at the top of the house, sticking out, it gets really, really warm. So it makes sense that I couldn't sleep. Luckily, I found the old AC-fridge-machine thing, and I put it on the window (it's a pity though, now I can't go sit outside on the roof), so it keeps my room nice and frosty. I hope it doesn't guzzle up too much energy. And it's kind of loud, but the drone helps me sleep.

As I walk around the house, I usually see the cats just kind of lying there, looking all chill. And when they're smart, they go downstairs where it's nice and cool.

My outlook on life at the moment isn't the most positive, but, well, as Monty Python puts it so well:

Always look on the bright side of life,
Always look on the light side of life.

So that's it folks.

Dear Kate Spade

Your wallets are neat and convenient and all, but they're a bit overpriced. I could make one just as good for 1/20th of the price, customized and all.

Yours truly,
Kaleidoughscope.

P.S. This is my actual blog post.

So today was a thoroughly enjoyable day, I woke up a little later than I wanted to, but it wasn't trouble because my acquaintance was late as well for our meeting. After exploring Mini-Stonehenge, BoldLewin and I decided to be on our merry toward Cedarvale Ravine, since it is, after all, a very nice place for frolicking. On our way there, we met a very nervous and stricken Sonata just coming out of a convenience store. After our little greetings and farewells, we marched off to the ravine, went through it (I must admit, it was a nice day, and a walk down memory lane), and ended up at the Forest Hill Village. During the ravine, I displayed my Jesus-like prowess in the form of object levitation, picture to be posted.

After some coffee or whatever, the Eaton centre was just a streetcar and subway ride away. For the first time, ladies and gentlemen who consist of my blog readers, I entered Abercrombie & Fitch, the store. Yes, I am publicly stating my entry into that store, but you will no doubt be relieved to know that I did not actually buy anything, I merely stood around, was used as a sort of reacher-ladder for clothes too high on the shelves, and sat on the nice comfy leathery couches whilst BoldLewin stood in an ever-increasing line of people waiting to try the little outfits they picked out in the changerooms.

Did I ever tell you, dear reader, one of my common habits? When I have nothing to do, and I'm just standing around waiting or something, I take out a deck of Bicycle cards from a hidden pocket in my coat and just play around with the cards.

So after a nice romantic lunch consisting of gooey cheap-quality Ontario poutine, there was some more shopping at the Eaton Centre. I myself bought a little something at The Body Shop, this very nice moisturizing cream, made with hemp, and I think it smells divine. Others would dislike it, but it's right up my alley. I love it.

So, after a not-so-tearful goodbye at a subway station, me and BoldLewin parted ways, where I returned home, took a little nap, and finished off some applications for summer school.

Yes, summer school.
I'm taking three courses, which will be a bit of handful, but I'm very happy with the way it turned out.

I'm taking Writer's Craft and Anthro/Socio/Psycho Grade Twelve over Virtual School (yay! I spend much time on the computer anyway).

Aaaand I'm taking remedial Advanced Functions for another easy credit (since I didn't go to half my classes, and failed every test, and did NO homework whatsoever during the course, I'm pretty happy I pulled off a 45).

Well, that's another blog entry for the day, have a good night folks.

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Ulysses Grievous Hawt Spectre Citron Ophilia Philharmonic Eyeless.

P-M-A-T

P is for prophase, the first in four
M is metaphase, there's only two more
A is anaphase, the separation of the core
T is telophase, where you will have one daughter cell more.

I thought it was absolutely brilliant anyway, I mean, writing a song for a culminating science project? Awesome.

So, my day was alright, I went to school to do a little presentation to my APS (Anthropology, Psychology, Sociology)(it's such a pain to have to say this everytime, because of course no one knows what APS stands for till you tell them) teacher, coincidentally, about "the blogging subculture". Yes, I argued that bloggers were part of a subculture, and she seemed to like it, so that was nice.

Because Ms. Birrell was done walking around asking people about their subcultures, she decided that the class should get back to painting the mural near the staffroom. In a bold and daring move, I perfected the art of escapism, vanishing around the corner of a hallway on our way to the mural to "vanish" myself downstairs in the guidance office. You must understand, I'm a terrible artist (my 26 in IB art last year speaks for itself), and I really didn't feel like blessing the school with some half-assed drawing of some stick-people holding hands chanting "EQUALITY YEAAAAH!". Apologies to my group members who did in fact stick around to paint.

So yes, in the guidance office, I met with Mr. Hartill to see if I could schedule some summer school classes. He was doubtful at first that I'd be able to do three credits, but everything turned out just fine! He printed like a dozen pages of paperwork that I will have to get to sometime soon. I'll be working with the catholics (gasp!) for my Writer's Craft course, which I will be taking online.

If my blog posts suddenly start looking nicer and wittier, and more literary-ish, you can thank the Pope.

And then remedial Advanced Functions will be a bit of a doozy, though it's only a month and a few hours per day, and if I show up to class and do my homework, my mark will be high, and considering I haven't done ANY homework at all this year in math, much less come to class, it's a win-win situation! Less time spent on math, good grades nonetheless!

... Oh gawd it's not, Math during the summer is just awful.

Well, sleep time, dawgs.

Piece.

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Ulysses Grievous Hawt Spectre Citron Ophilia Philharmonic Eyeless.