Journal

So........ well I decided to make a journal page ( the effects of total boredom during an uneventful summer vacation), drafting my totally boring uninteresting life onto the world wide web . Oh well where do I start......

Oh and I noticed that new pages don't allow you to make posts but just type one long essay, so I guess I'll just have to add on to this long list everyday, bit by bit.

Anyway back to my life..... well at this moment I'm super hungry, hadn't had breakfast in about two weeks now, which is not so bad considering I've spent the last 3 school years skipping breakfast in order to rush to class, in which looking back now didn't make much sense since I always ended up late everyday. For instance I remember my first day of form 3 in high school (which is grade 9 for those using the american system) I woke up early, ate a good breakfast; more like choked it down while gushing down a glass of orange juice, and hurriedly got dressed then ran off to school.

To my luck, just as I run through the school doors the bell rings, haha I'm just sitting here thinking of how much of a wuss I used to be back in those days actually worrying about what teachers thought about me, not wanting to get sent to the principals office and definitely not wanting my parents to be called in. Oh yes back to the story, well since it was my first day in that grade I had a bit of trouble finding the homeroom, and after about five minutes I finally made it to class.

So there I am standing at the door, I made one swift rap on the door and walked in to approach the teacher to explain my situation on how I couldn't find the class etc. thinking we can get all this behind us and start a wonderful new school-year afresh. Oh well that's what I get for thinking the best in everyone, the woman literally went on a rampage shouting at me to get out of her class saying "you think you can just come in here late and waltz into my classroom on the first day, GET OUT!!!!!."

I was in so much shock I could do nothing but obey, not even getting the chance to explain myself. Then five minutes later she comes outside the classroom where I was sitting to shout at me once again asking me what I was doing sitting down here, shouting at me to get inside and asking what I was doing outside, well from her attitude i didn't hold her behaviour that day against her, I simply ruled that it must've been that time of the month for her. So that's how my school-year started out that grade, exactly how I wanted it, to be humiliated in front of the entire class on the first day.

Needless to say the rest of the school-year was pretty much uneventful, I made some new friends, made many new enemies, two years flew by I became one of the popular kids at school, skipped classes to hang with the girls, locked ourselves in deserted classrooms, got caught, evaded the punishment, got to know some really cool teachers, and also got to know some other teachers who seemed to have a stick permanently stuck up their butts. But those teachers knew not to mess with me after our initial confrontations, because I would tell them like it is, no strings attached, you give respect then you get, simple as that.

I think I would miss French class the most, not because of the wonderful insight of the language, but because that was the place one of my best friends and I used to get high off of hand sanitizer, insulted and cursed each other in French, then insult the other kids who knew less French than us and were always on our cases while our teacher watched in bemusement. It was also the bar where one would find the drinks whenever the teacher decided to call in sick (not that I would take part in such activities..lol), the arcade, playing games on the teachers computer, drawing funny stuff on the white board, playing catch in the classroom trying not to break the light bulbs, and constantly running (and screaming) from frogs whenever they invaded the classroom. And who could forget the teacher, who shared in our not so kosher jokes, made class fun and interactive and was all round fun and not so much at times. That class would truly have a special place in my heart.

So high school was not so bad, considering. But hey two good years out of five, all I can say is I'm glad to be out of that hellhole, but at times its a bit sad, I'm sitting here writing waiting for my results, then to be off to University in September, no matter where life takes me I know I'll be alright just by remembering the lyrics to that song that I'm sure all Canadians that watch tv know; "whatever it takes I know I can make it through."