Monday, November 30, 2009

Confusing Day

***WARNING: Crude language is used in the entry below. This may not bother many of you, but I wanted to say that so as not to offend anyone.***

Today was the first day back from Thanksgiving break. I thought it was going to be a horrible day, but it could have been so much worse.

I've always said that the worst feeling I experience on a day to day basis is the one that envelops me the moment my eyes open from the buzzing of my alarm clock. It's depressing, having to get ready to go somewhere that just adds stress to my life.

The day went pretty well, I can't complain. But now it's the evening, and I'm procrastinating again, and it's depressing me. I did my math, spanish, and AP Lit homework, yay. :) I have no cinema homework. But I have a lot to do still for my EMR class, I have to learn blood pressure all in one night. It makes me realize that I shouldn't be sitting here, typing this, but that I should be practicing how to take blood pressure.

SHAIDA. That's what's making my life a little depressing right now. I'm so bipolar towards her, I hate myself for it. She's funny, she's nice, she's smart when she wants to be. But she's also UBER lazy, and her hair is usually greasy and her teeth have plaque in it a lot, and that grosses me out. Plus, she practically wears the same clothing every day. It's kinda gross to me, since I'm much more of a hygiene freak than she currently is.

Plus, she didn't go to the study sessions for EMR, she just played on her Twitter account while I worked my ass off. And she's still in the same boat as me, which is unfair. Why does she get to be in the same boat as me, when she's done half the work as me?!! She doesn't DESERVE to be in my boat, my boat was so hard to get into, she can't just slip into it easily.

I'll try to deny it, but I think that deep down, I hope something happens to her in EMR. Not an injury or anything. But that she's yelled at for not going to the study sessions and getting some testing done like I did. I hope I don't get yelled at. I don't deserve it as much as she does, damn right. But I would be okay with getting yelled at a little bit if she got yelled at a lot. It would make me feel better, better about myself, and that I was smart. I would like that. It's horrible.

Moby Dick is a dick. I read tonight's reading assignment for AP Lit because it was only 7 pages long- a miracle. The book is sort of interesting, but why does fucking Melville have to be so intelligent? Why does he have to write SO deeply, so wisely, it's fucking annoying. It's killing my grade, because I'm a lazy ass. But I'm not smart, so I don't know what to think about the situation.

I have EMR testing tomorrow, for blood pressure. I think. I HOPE I DON'T. But there's a solid chance I might be. I have no clue. But Shaida will get tested too, and if no one scolds her for not passing any of the tests, then life is not fucking fair.

I enjoy writing this blog. It really gets things off of my chest. It makes me feel more at ease. The responsibilities I have still haunt me as I write this, but I feel like I can breathe again when I'm typing this up. It's nice.

I need to raise my grades. I need to fucking raise my grades.

I like using the word "fucking" in my writing. I've never sworn out loud before in my life, and I don't plan to for a good long while, because I take a lot of pride in that fact, but using it while I write this blog is nice. It makes me sound more mature? People may have controversial views on that.

I'm going to go do some English homework that's due on Thursday. If I can do that, that'd be nice. I'll feel better about myself. I'll feel productive. Another weight will be taken off of my chest. That's a wonderful thought.

After that I'll do my EMR notebook while listening to music. I MUST DO THE NOTEBOOK. Come on, me. I've got to do it. FINISH IT TONIGHT. That'll be great if I can; WHEN I DO IT.

If I can do that, things are looking up.

-Alina

Friday, November 27, 2009

Happy National Turkey Genocide Day...

I think Thanksgiving should also be called National Turkey Genocide Day. And everytime I think that, it makes me laugh and frown simultaneously (have fun trying to do that- it's possible! Hopefully trying to make that face will make you smile).

Thanksgiving was amazing. It is also officially my favorite holiday. It's a holiday that gives reason for everyone, child or adult, poor or rich, to put down everything, get together with their loved ones, and eat amazing food and be thankful for what they have. Isn't that incredible? I am an athiest, but in a sense, Thanksgiving is truly a blessing. I totally heart the Pilgrims for starting this tradition, even though I think a lot of Native Americans were slaughtered by them in the process as well, so that's not good...

If you couldn't tell already, I'm feeling better. Things have gotten better. Not in every aspect of my life, I mean that type of change rarely happens to anyone, but in general, my outlook on life is better.

I have some advice. If you're feeling down, go and watch a good hour's worth of home videos from your past. Regardless of whether they are good memories or bad, try doing that. Also, try to find videos that you specifically are in. When you watch such tapes, you sort of have an epiphany, and realize how much things have changed over the years, how much you have changed. When I watched my home videos, my heart ached for Seattle, for how happy my parents, little brother, and I were there. It was just the four of us and the Emerald City was our playground, and it was wonderful. The memories the four of us made there are the ones I will think of on my deathbed, permitted that I will be healthy enough to be able to remember them.

When I watched the videos, I realized how much life had changed me. And yes, it was life that altered elements of me; it was, and it will always be life. Life is a combination of things, I'm not entirely sure what the components of it are, but I have a feeling that I will know what they are when I get older, when my future experiences will wisen me about my surroundings even more.
I used to be very outspoken, naive, energetic, and happy. I was always laughing and smiling, and I was unashamed of my actions. My mom watched the videos with me, and she told me that she missed the old me. I miss her too.

However, I also noticed how I looked completely unrecognizable to the old me; now I'm plump and moderate-looking, whereas when I was nine, I was a toothpick, and I felt like I didn't have any attractive features (my mom nonetheless, says I was "beautiful" as a child as well, and I love her for that even more).

So I'm a little tired of writing. That happens with me a lot, sorry. It's just that I start writing passionately about something that's on my mind for this blog, and then I forget the purpose of my entry. And then my brain starts "hurting," and I loose my mojo. And then... wait, I'm listing off excuses. Um, okay I'm basically lazy.. :( sorry.

I will hopefully write on this blog in the near future. But seriously you guys, WATCH A HOME VIDEO. Please. Tell me what kind of effect the experience had on you. And make sure you haven't watched the video for a good 5 years! Or else it's not as impactful (is that even a word? It should be).

Oh, and for the first time, I wrote this while (whilst?) playing music- the Glee soundtrack, to be specific. I always hear about famous authors (cough cough Stephenie Meyer) writing with music playing in the background, so I tried it out, and it's very useful! I recommend it to everyone. It helps you write things that you wouldn't have the guts to say if you wrote in silence. Or maybe that's just me.

I hope whoever is reading this is okay, and that they're happy. I hope that someday I can find the strength to change myself for the better. And I feel incredibly stupid for saying that as well.

I DON'T KNOW.

-Alina

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Feeling Better

Today has been quite interesting, to say the least. It has been a mix of good and bad moments, and it definitely was unique day in a sense.

I woke up late. Got through history and physio. Managed to talk to the popular girl in physio, and I think she likes me. :) I'm trying to become friends with popular people you see, so that I will become more likeable and "cool." I really don't know how that's working out, but I think there has been definite improvement compared to my social status in the past years... exactly how large that level of improvement has been is debateable, however.

Snack came. It was Dance for a Cure, an awkward experience. Cinema class came. I was ridiculed by a stupid bozo who will never get far in life for a good forty minutes... I mean, he was making fun of me while I was doing all the editing for our film, which I wrote the script and I storyboarded for, how senseless can he get... he doesn't even know how to spell purse (he asked me yesterday how to spell the word). Frankly, I wasn't going to take that crap from anybody, I didn't deserve it one bit, so I came in at lunch, spoke to my Cinema teacher, and now he's getting a "Fail" for the project.

Honestly, the experience has left me feeling both degraded and empowered. I stood up for myself quickly after he started teasing me, and now he's going to suffer the consequences of his bullying through a sophisticated procedure, but his words still hurt. They sting and are forming a tiny scar in my mind, but I will not allow it to stay there. Some people say that words can be more destructive, hurtful, and upsetting than physical abuse, and they are so true.

I practically fell asleep in spanish and sufferred a cruel and depressing math test in Algebra 2. My friend called me afterschool and told me she's been cutting herself. She claimed she hadn't told anyone, and although we weren't the best of friends, she felt she could trust me. And she's absolutely right. I am the type of person that you could hurl the most shocking or unimaginable news towards and would not breakdown at the mention of it. My persona has always been crazy, awkward, weird, and occasionally amusing on a daily basis, but I switch to the most mature, collected, sophisticated, and logical individual in the room the moment something goes wrong (well, if it were a natural disaster, something I truly am terrified of and hope endlessly to never endure). So when she told me that, I spoke to her for almost an hour about it, learning that she hadn't done anything drastic or caused permanent or life-threatening harm, and that she thought that was okay. However, the moment we hung up, I called my father and spoke to him about it, and if the situation gets worse, I plan to immediately call my aunt, a family therapist, and follow that step with a trip to my school's counseling office, since they'll need to know what's going on.

I'm tired. I'm a procrastinator. I'm lazy. I feel like a failure at times, but not often. I love my family. I love my little brother. I love my parents. I love Canada. When I look at pictures of Seattle, my original dwelling, my heart aches. Seeing the crystal clear sky, bright blue and spotted with glorious white clouds, a striking contrast to the luscious, beautiful green grass and trees underneath it, I feel overwhelmed, and I feel the need to cry. I become speechless, and it seems my heart has leapt to my throat, since it misses the city so much. It's almost like I can sense the cool, refreshing wind spread over my cheeks, creating a familiar rose color onto my soft skin, and I have the urge to take a deep breath in and devour the pure, clean air that rushes into my lungs and brings life to me. The air there is like a cleansing, healthy drug of its own, one that helps me get high off of life. It's the most natural drug in the world, and its soul is beyond a description the human language could ever muster up. The feeling makes the hard lines of my lips, cemented into a stern line, crack and change into a smile, for it's impossible not to. Lastly, a single picture of Seattle brings back the memories of my past there, the days I spent in my hometown that were so joyful and perfect, the only explanation for the existence of such a place is that it must have come from a different world.

I miss it dearly.

-Alina

Monday, November 9, 2009

The Stupid Girl Who Couldn't Play Soccer

It's a Monday night, and I have no school on Wednesday. But the feats I must endure to get to that point with satisfaction makes my heart beat faster.

I have soccer practice tonight, but I don't want to go. To be frank, I never want to go. You can trust me to make some sort of excuse to get out of making my lazy butt get off the plastic chair in my room and onto a football field instead.

The thing is, I am not very talented at soccer. True, my team is going to the league championships, but I feel more like a burden than anything else when I'm on the faux grass field with my teammates. And plus, I have homework to do. LOTS of homework to do. Why? Because I procrastinate. A LOT. It's terrible, absolutely degrading. But it's a habit I'm not trying hard enough to break.

I suck at English. I'm taking AP American Literature and I'm a Junior and it's my only AP, and I suck at it. I think I'm getting a B, at best. My 6th grade science teacher, Mr.Lichtmen, or whatever the hell his name is, told me to surround myself by smart friends, because it was a positive environment to be around. So I did that, and all my friends are either geniuses, or they are smart enough to not take AP English, because they know they'll suck at it (like me). Last year I did well in Honors English, I got an A both semesters. But this year is depressing.

I'm so stupid. And I really don't want to go to soccer practice.