Summer update

From my journal dated July 23rd 2012 (age 18)

So I just thought I’d check in here, even though I don’t have much to report at the moment. It’s been exactly 2 weeks since my knee surgery now and I’ve pretty much completely recovered. The past 2 weeks have been blissfully free and lazy. I’ve read quite a bit, watched quite a bit of Gilmore Girls with my mom, obsessively checked my new university’s Facebook pages, and begun using a stationary bike we set up on the deck.

My friends (aka Alice and Steph) have been working a ton so I haven’t been able to see them much.

Oh, and today I got my English 12 exam mark: 88%… Decent but I’m secretly a little disappointed (hearing about Stephanie’s 99% doesn’t help). I mean, I like English and writing, so it’s kind of sad to find out that I’m not too good at it.

And speaking of writing, I was awarded another scholarship for $5,000! The catch is that I now to have to follow through with my project proposal which was to write a blog this coming school year, in French. No pressure or anything…

And I still have another four whole weeks of NOTHING before the epic road trip to my new life.

But, for now, this is my life and my mom’s calling me for dinner. Catch you later!


Knee surgery

From my journal dated July 11th 2012 (age 18)

All I want to do at the moment is run. Run as fast as I can until my lungs gasp for air and my legs feel like Jello. It’s been too long since my body felt that way.

Two days ago, I had knee surgery. My knee had been bothering me since November 2010 and I was so eager to play sports again.

But now I just feel embarrassed and regretful because they cut open my knee and didn’t find anything wrong with it. They couldn’t find even the smallest tear in my meniscus, which is what they thought the problem was.

So I had surgery for no reason and there’s still something wrong with my knee. It’s painful, literally and emotionally, and so frustrating.

And I’m now worried that the surgery will have wonked up the rest of my muscles in my leg, which will cause other things like my back to be disaligned, and, in general, just cause me problems.

That’s all I really have to say about my knee at the moment. All I can do now is hobble around on crutches and pray that I will be healed one day.

Sailing & Faith

From my journal, dated July 9 2012 (age 18)

My sailing trips. How can I begin to describe what they mean to me? Yesterday I got back from one of the trips where I volunteered as Bosun’s Mate. The job of Bosun’s Mate really challenged me to work hard and also to become a leader and a role model.

I celebrated my 18th birthday on the trip and it’s funny because on the day itself I didn’t feel older, but now that I think about it, I do feel older. On the trip, most of the trainees were younger than me and it felt a little strange to have them look up to me for direction. I guess I’m used to being the youngest, to following quietly. Here I was challenged to become a leader.

It’s the atmosphere and community that I particularly love about these trips. Living so close together, it is impossible to hide who you truly are and it is scary for me to reveal so much myself, and yet it is so amazing to feel accepted for who you truly are. A recurring quote and even theme of this last trip, and I guess of the trips in general, was: “You can only be loved as much as you are known.” I feel like that is one of the main things I will take back from this trip. I will try every day to be myself completely and to open up and be honest with everyone.

Another quote that epitomizes what these trips are about and what they’re striving to teach is: “Love your neighbour as yourself.” These two quotes are the quotes I would like to live by.

And so where does faith come into this? Perhaps I will talk more about my history with God in another entry, but for now I want to say that I believe in God, I really do. Calling myself a Christian though, I find harder to do. I struggle with believing that Jesus was raised from the dead and that there is a heaven and a hell. And yet I truly believe in Jesus’ message and the way of life he preached. To love God and to love your neighbour. The crew on the ship are examples of the strong, selfless, caring, and loving people that Christianity creates. And I went want to be like that, truly I do.

And so I struggle on. I cannot believe that homosexuality is a sin and I can’t take the Bible literally. But faith is by definition a struggle and I want to believe so badly.

An Uncomfortable Experience

From my journal dated June 26th 2012 (age 17)

So I’m going to write about what happened last night. In many ways I don’t want to talk or think about it because it’s such an uncomfortable memory, but at the same time, I feel the need to express my emotions about it all, even though I don’t know what these emotions are.

Anyways, first off I don’t want you (whoever you are) to get the wrong impression of me. I’m NOT a “party girl” or the type of girl that fills her journal writing about boys. But, these things are new and confusing and are happening to me so they’re on my mind and that’s why I’m writing disproportionately about them.

So last night I went to a party; a party I wasn’t too keen about from the beginning. I ended up going downtown with Alice and she had some alcohol that we drank in the basement of the Hotel B- but it wasn’t very much honestly. Then, we went to the club where the party was and we waited outside for an hour (in line). It was frustrating. Oh, and I saw Arianna and Katie E., some old elementary school friends, which was very awkward. The beginning of a number of awkward and uncomfortable moments during the night.

Yes, in fact, if I had to describe my night in one word, it would be; uncomfortable. The party, once we finally got into the nightclub, was the definition of “not my kind of party.” It would have been more fun if I have been drunk…

So Caleb was waiting there with Sean, and Caleb asked me if I wanted to dance and I said Sure, and we went to the edge of the dance floor and tried to dance to undanceable (for me at least) music. Alice, my a safety blanket + buffer at this event, had disappeared, and Caleb and I were standing an awkward metre apart and both of us were looking over our shoulders, too afraid to make eye contact.

Thank goodness that moment only lasted around 5 minutes, but even that seemed like forever.

Anyways, Caleb and I split up for a bit and I found Daniela, Callie, and Katherine and we girls headed out onto the dance floor. This time though, we were in the middle of the mosh of dancers and it was INSANE. I have never, not even at any other dances, been so close (physically, obviously) to so many people. It was hard to dance and most the time I just felt like I was being shoved. It was fun for a minute, then uncomfortable, then a little ok, then a little fun, and then UNCOMFORTABLE. Because then Caleb found me (Alice and Sean were there too). And because we were so squished, it wasn’t long before he had his arms around me from behind.

I didn’t really mind that his arms were around me (well I did a bit) because it did feel a little nice to be wanted in that way, and also his being there prevented me from getting shoved so much. But the whole time I was trying to suck in my butt and arch my back to prevent my butt from rubbing his crotch which made me feel uncomfortable.

By the way, if you’re my daughter or another relative who’s reading this, forgive me, and believe me when I say I’m embarrassed enough for both of us. Anyways, the next hour or so was spent dancing, sitting at the table in silence, or hiding out in the bathroom. At one point, I sat in a booth with Caleb and he put his arm around me and it was nice and we tried to make conversation but it was interspersed with awkward silences when we were both trying to think of something to say.

I should mention that another thing that made me uncomfortable was when, more than once, I heard a friend of Caleb’s say to him (when I was right beside them) “just go for it man. Just go for it.” In regards to me. Well that just made me feel like a piece of meat, same feeling as when can Connor was telling/urging us to kiss.

What scared me/ excited me was that I could so easily have kissed him. So easily. I’m sure he likes me (he was literally following me around) and I was a little tempted to kiss him. But as you probably know, I haven’t had my first kiss yet, and I didn’t want to waste it on someone who I was beginning to realize, I was not attracted to. But I also wanted to want to kiss him (if that makes sense). It felt so nice to feel wanted; I’ve never had a guy like me before.

Anyways, by 1 a.m. I was ready to call it quits. Too loud, too many people, most of whom were drunk, and just too uncomfortable. Much to my chagrin, we ended up taking cab (for which I had no money) and when we stopped at my house, Caleb got out and walked me to my house.

This is a moment when people kiss, at least in the movies. Anyways I was just so done and wanted to be alone, that I just gave him a quick hug and practically ran around the side of my house. I couldn’t help but slam the gate. I felt icky and like I wasted $25 and most of all I felt, you guessed it, uncomfortable. If something good came from last night, it was learning definitively that I don’t like Caleb, although I do like him as a friend.

Anyways I spent today alone, slowly trying to feel more like myself. I went for a nice long bike ride, I bought a pair of jeans, and I worked out at the gym. I was feeling a little better, but then, he texts me: “Hey.”

ACK! Can’t he tell that I didn’t have fun and that I don’t like him in that way and that we have no chemistry and nothing to talk about? Well, apparently not.

So I didn’t know what to do or text back, so I kind of ignored him. Harsh? A little, but I really just wanted to be left alone. If he texts me again I’ll have to be more clear…

Well forgive me for writing such a long, and probably painfully detailed entry. But from whom am I asking forgiveness? This diary is to be read by myself, and myself alone, until I die, or until I decide that I’m famous enough and have developed enough unshakable self-confidence that I can make this diary public.*

I have also promised myself that I won’t read any previous entries until this book is full, or until ten years have passed. So, again, you must forgive my error-riddled entries because I have not read them over at all.

Ok now I’m just rambling so I’m going to go to bed now. Goodnight!


* [note from current self]: that or publish it anonymously

While the pill kicks in…

From my journal dated June 24th 2012

So I’m not going to lie; I’m mostly writing this now, at 10:20 p.m. on a Sunday night because I hope it will help me kind of practice my writing before my English 12 exam which is tomorrow morning.

And forgive me if these words sound slightly slurred or jumbled; I just took a sleeping pill and I’m waiting for it to kick in. I took the pill because I have a huge and important day tomorrow and want to get a good night’s sleep and not be up all night fretting and being anxious.

Because there is lots to fret about; this English exam is worth 40% of my final mark and I need a high mark to keep some of my scholarships.

And I am anxious about going to a party called “Rock the Boat” tomorrow night. Caleb asked me (yes, a boy asked me out) and though it’s not my kind of party (nightclub, dubstep, drunks, etc) I decided to go.

I’m mostly nervous about seeing Caleb again because I haven’t seen him since the night of his grad and I kissed him on the cheek when he dropped me off. I have no regrets about that, but now I’m worried that he might expect something more tomorrow night. The thing is that I still feel that I don’t know him enough to decide whether or not I like him “in that way.” And a club party with electronic music blasting in your eyes (sic) isn’t the best way to get to know somebody.

Anyways, I feel the drugs kicking in now… Wish me luck for tomorrow! I’m going to need all the help I can get!

Pathetic Fallacy

Continued from my journal, dated June 22nd 2012

As I’m writing this, I’m looking outside and it looks hella gloomy. Rain is pitter-pattering on my window and the whole sky is one giant cloud. And it’s like 13 degrees Celsius. Did I mention that it’s June 22nd? And that it’s been like this for weeks?

Now I know what you were thinking, because I’m thinking the exact same thing myself: Why am I writing about the weather?

Because everyone’s talking about it and it’s just so darn depressing. This is summer! This is freedom! Let’s go to the beach, oh wait, we don’t want to die of hypothermia.

In school we learned a lot of “literary devices.” One of them is called “pathetic fallacy” and it’s when the mood or action of the story matches the weather (or, really, it’s vice versa). Anyways, I’ve always wondered why they call it “pathetic.” Personally, I think it’s quite an ingenious literary device that can be used quite effectively to make the reader feel a particular emotion or to build up suspense or what have you. And why is the weather considered a “pathetic” conversation topic? I mean if you’re at a party and you bring up the weather, people give you that kind of “that’s-a-really-boring-and-overused-conversation-topic-and-we’d-rather-talk about-something-just-as-superficial-but more-exciting-like-our-bathroom-renos-and-Brangelina” look.

I honestly have no idea where I’m going with this rant; I think I’m just bitter and bored, due to the weather. In the story of our lives, does God use pathetic fallacy?

Best Friends

Continued from my journal dated June 22nd 2012 (age 17)

I won’t spend much time ranting about how amazing and smart and ambitious and thoughtful and passionate Stephanie is. Because I can go on forever. If you want to taste of it, you could read my essay titled “My Spark” that I wrote for a scholarship application. But really, so she’s so friendly and enthusiastic, and she never fails to brighten my day, and her passionate activism for world issues – especially environmental ones – inspires me to make a difference as well. In short, I’m so lucky to have a friend like Stephanie.

But there’s something I’ve always known about Stephanie, and that is that I need her more than she needs me. (Not by much though, she often mentions how I’m her rock, always there for help and support). What I really mean to say is that she will move on before I do, because she can’t let links to her past weigh her down, as she strives to change the world. And she’s destined for greatness, of that there is no doubt. Neither of us would have believed in Grade 8 that she would become one of the leading youth activists in the city, founder of a climate action group, lead in the school musical, taking multiple AP courses, playing Metro level soccer, and heading off next year to Stanford.

I’m not being bitter here; it’s just kind of sad that it’s all ending and my closest friend in the entire world will go off and make new Stanford friends who are smarter and more accomplished. We have sworn that will keep in touch, and I’m pretty sure we will, but how can ever be as close as we are now?

I have shared with Stephanie some of my deepest and most personal thoughts and fears. We ended both prom and grad nights together, sharing breakfast at 4am at Lily’s Diner and watching the sunrise on the C. Street Bridge. Those hours we spent together are so sacred to me; we just talked and talked about everything and anything.

I love Stephanie with all my heart, but I know it’s time to move on – she is destined for something greater, and I just hope that I’ll be able to make new friends at university.