I’m still on hiatus (AKA mostly permanent leave of absense from this blog), but I had some thoughts about something I don’t feel like I could express anywhere else currently, seeing as I think here is the place I’ve ranted on about my opinions on “big” things the most.

If you don’t know about Storm Stoker, google can easily tell you their story. Storm is a baby being raised by their (I choose to use “their” instead of him/her because quite frankly, there are many more gender identities in the world than simply male or female and I feel it would be inadequate to try and force someone who may fall outside of that gender binary to fall into it) parents to be “genderless”. This means that they are keeping Storm’s biological sex secret with the exception of a few select people (Storm’s two brothers and some others- hey, that rhymes).

This story has been met with plenty of backlash (just read the comments on any of those articles google finds you). People have said that this child is being set up for teasing. People have said that this is just going to confuse Storm. People have said that this child is going to grow up to be the social construction of whatever their birth certificate says regardless and that this is just pointless and unnecessary.

I personally have done plenty of research and thinking about gender (pretty much every day) and it’s different expressions and identities and so on in the past several months since an anti-bullying PSA I was assigned back in February and the friends I was working with and I were talking about different reasons that someone may get bullied. Gender expression was one of them, and although we changed our PSA topic and made an anti-suicide/depression awareness video instead, I thought maybe, considering my dreams of becoming Prime Minister, I should educate myself on the diversity there is out there.

This is pretty much a mishmash of my thoughts on this news story. Please forgive any spelling errors and the fact that this isn’t really edited and being in point form.

– In defence of being set up to be called “it” or being teased- Storm’s parents aren’t raising the baby to feel as though they have to keep being genderless all of their life. Storm will choose when they feel ready who they feel that they are.

– Are you calling people who actually identify as genderless or neutrois or genderqueer or androgynous or people who were born intersex (commonly refered to as “hermaphrodites”) living social experiments? Would you call a person of a “minority” race a living social experiment? We are all individuals, and no human experience is the same- we are all, in our own way, different. We each have the oppourtunity to step out into the world every single day- who are you to say that one kind of different (which does not in fact hurt anyone unless you choose) is worse than another kind of different? And I’ve said so many times that all that should really matter about someone in regards of respect is the mere fact that we’re all earthlings- we breathe the same air and see the same sky and moon and stars. We know what it feels like to be alive, and we are all valid. We are human beings, and we should be treated with respect as such.

– Technically, by growing up in these gender binaries (male and female), we are living social experiments. Each generation challenges them more and more. There once was a time when women weren’t allowed to wear pants. Where it was considered the natural thing to do. Where women weren’t allowed to be dominant political or familial figures. And we are still living in a society where men can’t wear dresses (with the exception of kilts, and even then I’ve heard a fair bit of people in my own culture teasing that kilts are womanly) and where the clothes section of the store and the public bathrooms and the toys available with McDonald’s happy meals are segregated by gender. Even bicycles, and hats, which in principle have nothing to do with gender, are labeled “men’s” and “women’s”.

– “We are all born naked and the rest is just drag.” (Honestly I don’t know where I first heard this quote so apologies for lack of credit.) We weren’t born with makeup on our faces or a pair of boxers on our… well, parts. Who are you to say that the shape of someone’s genetalia should determine who they should be?

– Let’s imagine Storm is biologically female. If you are so confident with the idea that Storm will grow up preferring pink, liking to have long hair, a nurturer, or whatever else the picture of “girl” is that we’ve painted is- then why are you so afraid of being proven wrong? If Storm chooses that this is the image that best aligns with their picture of who they are, then Storm will choose this. And maybe you could be right. And Storm’s parents are open to whoever their child decides to be.
Let’s imagine Storm is biologically male. If you are so confident with the idea that Storm will grow up preferring blue, liking to have short hair, a provider, or whatever else the picture of “boy” is that we’ve painted is- then why are you so afraid of being proven wrong? If Storm chooses that this is the image that best aligns with their picture of who they are, then Storm will choose this. And maybe you could be right. And Storm’s parents are open to whoever their child decides to be.
Let’s imagine Storm’s gender identity falls beyond “male” or “female”. Let’s imagine that deep down, Storm feels as though they are honestly someone without a gender identity, or neutrois (gender-neutral), or androgynous (a combination of male and female), or bigender (sometimes feeling male, sometimes feeling female)? Or some other sort of gender-variant human being? Then Storm recieved the knowledge when they were young that it truly didn’t matter what gender you felt like deep down anyways, because Storm’s parents approved of whoever they would be.

– Setting up for confusion: no. What are we, trying to train children to “know their place”? This isn’t a world striving for gender equality if we need to tell children who they ought to be. They will feel in their hearts who they ought to be. It seems as though we’re being forced into “naturally” being some way, which contradicts the whole point of being what feels natural. If it’s what comes naturally, then why does anyone need telling what to do? Why are men and women directed to different bathrooms (when really, we’re all trying to relieve ourselves) and different clothes sections of the store (when really, we’re all just finding ways to cover ourselves and keep ourselves warm)? Why does it need verifying if it goes without saying?

– Storm’s parents aren’t taking away their child’s identity. They are giving their child the freedom to choose who they truly want to be. If we are truly this way (as in knowing a boy or a girl when you see one because of how they present themselves) naturally, then how come it’s society that has to paint our blank canvas for us when we are young and know no better? And why do relatives that don’t truly KNOW us as well as we do send us as girls barbie dolls from a young age and them as boys toy cars? Why was my brother given a GameBoy first, when I would have liked one just as much? (I realize that I have a couple of relatives that read this, so I’d just like to verify that if you’re going to buy me something insanely expensive for the next gift-giving holiday, a blackberry or a deposit for my post-secondary education would be awesome. Just sayin’.)

Each baby was brought into this world a blank canvas. Why are you keeping the paintbrush away from them?

Alex Violet



May 30, 2010

I feel like I need to take a bit of a hiatus from blogging.

Reasons why:

a) I’ve become one of those obsessive people that checks her email constantly for comments on blog posts and then the actual wordpress website to look at how many page views I’ve got and how many subscribers I’ve got TOO OFTEN.
When I was in sixth grade, I was an internet junkie too, and I figured if I couldn’t make my way socially through school, I’d make it through the internet. But I’m in HIGH SCHOOL now. High school years are supposed to be the years I remember for the rest of my life, and I’m just spending too much of it distracted through things like blogging and polyvore.

b) If I want to write about my life, I’ve got a journal for that. And I can say more without worrying who I’ll offend or anger or shock in a journal. My journal is private.

(Side note: My journal is currently close to being filled up. (220 full pages of my journal are written, plus a sentence on the 221st page. I keep purple journals with snap-button closure things on the edge since I like to tuck things like tickets or brochures in the pages. If anyone knows where -Canadian stores- I can buy a journal like that, let me know. Or you can, *ahem, people who know me live* maybe buy one for me as an advance birthday, Christmas, or other gift-giving holiday gift? *Imagine a puppy-dog pout here.* *No, wait. A small baby kitten meowing. Or Puss in Boots from Shrek with that face.*)

c) It’s time consuming. (1:09 AM as I write this.)

d) When I try to catch up with people on the phone about my week, *cough, cough: DADDY* they already know what I’m about to say because they read my blog. So conversation isn’t quite as fun.

e) …

Alright, I can’t think of an (e) right now, but I think you catch my drift.

I love to write, but right now, I’d rather focus on writing my novel, or in my journal, or in English class (really the place where grown-ups want you to write).

I don’t think I’ll stop blogging for good. I’ve just got so much going on in my life and there’s quite a bit that I’ve realized today.

I’m not shy. I’m not quiet. I’m not the student everyone thinks I am. I’m loud and act crazy and that’s who I really am, because I feel great when I act like that; I feel like me. If I sit down to type about my life for the trillionth time (I’ve got my journal and all my friends to talk to.) what happened this week, it actually TAKES AWAY from what really happened that week, if you realize it.

And sometimes I’d just prefer to have a journal that you can actually hold with your hands, open and read the words I wrote so long ago. Somehow it feels more… real.

I’m happy that you like my writing (if you didn’t, I doubt you would’ve read this far) because writing IS something I care passionately about. But I hate having to repeat myself to so many sources because it’s hard to keep track of what I’ve told to who. I hear way too often, “I know, you told me already.”

Anyway, I feel like going anti-technology for a while because it really sucks up quite a bit of my life. If I feel I’ve got something I really feel I need to share with the world, maybe I’ll interrupt the hiatus to write something.

But right now I need to work on my life rather than trying to sort out everyone else’s, or even philosophy in general. I’ll still look for meaning in everything… just everyday things. If I get too obsessed with having to have an opinion on everything and analyze everything, I think I’ll go crazy…

So just, long story short: I can’t handle blogging right now so I’m taking a break. I don’t know for how long. I might post something little (like a sonnet or a paragraph or a picture) every once in a while to let you know that I’m still alive. But whenever I post something, it probably won’t be very frequently.

If I know you in person and you REALLY, I mean REALLY want to read something else I’ve written, let me know.

Thank you for reading,

Alex Violet.

Enter title here.

May 23, 2010

HORRAH FOR EXISTENCE!!Fashion Trends & Styles - Polyvore

HORRAH FOR EXISTENCE!! by DinosaurMuffin on Polyvore.com

Simple day.

Slept in until about 10-something after staying up until 2 AM-ish to write in my journal.

(I wrote TWENTY pages of my journal, my record being NINE.)

Went on polyvore.

I plan to go play the Sims 3 after this, as I haven’t played it in a while.

Everything is all good.

That’s about it…


I plan on finally getting around to writing more of my book tonight. (I try to stick to writing about vampires when it’s dark out. It’s just easier and I feel more free to write what I please when everyone’s asleep and there’s no chance they’ll walk past or get curious about what I’m spending so much time on. I don’t know why, but I really feel much more comfortable with letting my close friends read it than my family…) I planned on writing a lot last night but I spent that time writing in my journal and decided it was far to late to try to get my laptop all set up.

Yesterday Papa (grampa on Mother’s side) visited us and we all went to the Sears to get Mathew a suit for his Grade 6 graduation. (If you’re confused by him having a Grade 6 graduation, it’s because the elementary school we both went to in the neighbourhood only goes up to Grade 6.)

We’ve got pictures of him in his suit that I took from my phone.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

So YEAH. Life is FANTABULOUS. Thank God my school week is over. Thank God it’s the Victoria Day weekend. Thank God school’s almost over. Thank God my exams can’t possibly be worse than last semester. Thank God I’M EXEMPT FROM THE HISTORY EXAM!!!! πŸ˜€ =D

Alex Violet

P. S.: 55 days.

WHASSUP!!!???? :D

May 21, 2010

I’ve put together a couple (okay, WAY more than that) things (“sets”) on polyvore that I wouldn’t mind sharing.

"Streetlight people living just to find emotion..."Fashion Trends & Styles - Polyvore

“Streetlight people living just to find emotion…” by DinosaurMuffin on Polyvore.com

(Made today.)

UntitledFashion Trends & Styles - Polyvore

Untitled by DinosaurMuffin on Polyvore.com

I think I made that yesterday? No, I think today.

"Let's start a REVOLUTION."Fashion Trends & Styles - Polyvore

“Let’s start a REVOLUTION.” by DinosaurMuffin on Polyvore.com

Made today. I’m pretty sure.

"Are you making Magic?"Fashion Trends & Styles - Polyvore

“Are you making Magic?” by DinosaurMuffin on Polyvore.com

That one I did make yesterday. The picture’s from the movie The Secret Garden which is one of those movies I would watch over and over again when I was littler. I have the book, but I’m not very far. I sort of lost it, too…

"Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none." -ShakespeareFashion Trends & Styles - Polyvore

“Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none.” -Shakespeare by DinosaurMuffin on Polyvore.com

"Lights will guide you home and ignite your bones..."Fashion Trends & Styles - Polyvore

“Lights will guide you home and ignite your bones…” by DinosaurMuffin featuring Darcy Miro For Unholy Matrimony bracelets

CollageFashion Trends & Styles - Polyvore

Collage by DinosaurMuffin on Polyvore.com

I love pleasant surprises.Fashion Trends & Styles - Polyvore

I love pleasant surprises. by DinosaurMuffin on Polyvore.com

DreamFashion Trends & Styles - Polyvore

Dream by DinosaurMuffin on Polyvore.com

I'm really not so simple...Fashion Trends & Styles - Polyvore

I’m really not so simple… by DinosaurMuffin on Polyvore.com

UntitledFashion Trends & Styles - Polyvore

Untitled by DinosaurMuffin on Polyvore.com

(You’ve seen that one…)

For PathfindersFashion Trends & Styles - Polyvore

For Pathfinders by DinosaurMuffin featuring Darcy Miro For Unholy Matrimony bracelets

Listening gives us understanding and voice gives us power.Fashion Trends & Styles - Polyvore

Listening gives us understanding and voice gives us power. by DinosaurMuffin on Polyvore.com

If you can paint with all the colours of the wind...Fashion Trends & Styles - Polyvore

If you can paint with all the colours of the wind… by DinosaurMuffin on Polyvore.com

ALIVE.Fashion Trends & Styles - Polyvore

ALIVE. by DinosaurMuffin on Polyvore.com

Write to me from Neverland...Fashion Trends & Styles - Polyvore

Write to me from Neverland… by DinosaurMuffin on Polyvore.com

...But that was when I ruled the world.Fashion Trends & Styles - Polyvore

…But that was when I ruled the world. by DinosaurMuffin featuring Envirosax bags

BelieveFashion Trends & Styles - Polyvore

Believe by DinosaurMuffin on Polyvore.com

= me.Fashion Trends & Styles - Polyvore

= me. by DinosaurMuffin featuring Marc Jacobs shoes

(That one was made to represent me.)

so YEAH.Fashion Trends & Styles - Polyvore

so YEAH. by DinosaurMuffin on Polyvore.com

Look into this person’s irises; there are almost or exactly 50 pictures in varying sepia shades to make up the colour in her eyes. It took something like 3 hours…? I don’t know, this is an older one.

to never know hate...Fashion Trends & Styles - Polyvore

to never know hate… by DinosaurMuffin on Polyvore.com

That one probably about the same time.

I don’t take credit for any of the individual pictures, photos, artwork in them, etc. because I’ve made them into a collage (type-thing) or whatever. It’s what polyvore is sort of about. (There are also tonnes of fashion sets on my polyvore account, but really, I didn’t think anyone would be interested in seeing them.) If you want to see more, (I skimmed over a couple of art sets and there are plenty of fashion sets) just click on DinosaurMuffin. (That’s my awesome username on polyvore. Way more a success at being random than brilliantbroccoli – my blog URL.)

I suppose a lot of drama has happened in my life this week but I don’t care enough to dwell on it anymore. I’ve written a little about it in my journal (I’m not done the journal entry) and that’s enough for me. What’s done is done and only for the better. Everybody makes mistakes and whatnot.

I got called down to the guidance councellor’s office (again) sometime (I think this week?) since a couple of my selected courses for next year have been cancelled since not enough people signed up.

Here’s what I was SUPPOSED to take (the ones that don’t have levels I can’t remember the levels of):

11 University English
11 University/College Math (they had me switch down from University last time I went into guidance)
11 Media Studies
11 Student Leadership (A Students’ Council only course, since it was basically getting course credit for being on the SC.)
11 Triology: Anthropology, Phsycology and whatever that third one is that escapes my mind at 11:43 PM on a Friday night.
11 University Physics
11 Physical Geography
11 University/College Art (highest level available seeing as I’m an artistic GENIUS. πŸ˜› )

My backups were:

11 Drama
11 Art Store Course (I know that’s not the real name of the course, but it’s name escapes me right now and it’s more or less teaching you how to run a business in art: how to take inventory and such.)

BUT here’s the thing: the Media Studies got cancelled, much to my dismay. The Student Leadership course was cancelled aswell. The reason they called me down to have a chat instead of replacing those courses with both of my backups was because one of my backups was cancelled also. (Art Store was cancelled.)

So they switched me into Drama and I told them I’d do 11 (University?) World History from the 16th Century Onward. (Probably not the exact wording, but they’ve got something about it being from the 16th Century Onward in the title.) When we first were doing course selections, I remember panicking over which backups to sign up for, trying to decide between Art Store and World History. I’m really intrigued in history. The way I see it is that history is just like fictional stories you read or hear about, but it really happened and it happened, well, ages ago. And you could (or could’ve) met that person you’re reading about in that textbook or taking your picture by their statue. They were real and they lived life in the same world as you and I.
(I hope that makes any sense.)

Anyway, I’ve had a rough week with the exception of a school trip on Thursday to Toronto. We watched the play Romeo and Juliet at the Hart-something (Hartford?) Theatre on UOT campus. I absolutely adore how diverse Toronto is compared to my town. When I go walking in Toronto, you can see how different everyone is and realize that being different is normal in Toronto. You can be whoever the heck you want to be.

We were a half-hour late to the play (but somehow it didn’t start until we’d arrived) since our bus driver pulled the whole busload of anxious kids over at a rest stop (telling us not to get off the bus to go to Timmies’ or whatever) so he could have a little “smoke break.”

I said later about how unproffessional that was of him to an aquaintance. She told me I shouldn’t have such a negative view of people.

“I don’t have a negative view on people, just their actions sometimes bug me.”

“Hm. Food for thought.”

I took that as an invitation to keep talking. So I tried to (and failed) to explain my views on trust and mankind. (I don’t remember exactly what I said, but even I was confused by what I was saying, but it seemed she wanted to shoot down everything I was trying to say. It’s difficult to get someone who closes off their mind to other people’s opinions to understand. I have to admit, I am very stubborn when people try to change my views, but I still listen to them with an open mind and try my best to understand. Because understanding is the key to world peace. I wrote a very good explaination to why this is so last year in my geography class when we were working on spatial geography.)

Later, when I had my words together, I caught up with her when we were all walking back to the bus.

“I’m going to try to explain myself again if you don’t mind.”

She didn’t try to stop me, but still seemed reluctant.

“Do you know what unconditional love is?”

She mumbled something.

“Did you say ‘yup’ or ‘nope’?”

“No,” she replied.

“Okay, well you know how you love your family no matter-”

“No,” she interrupted.

“Well, can you imagine?”

A pause, and then, mostly mumbling, “Well, I can imagine, but-”

This time I interrupted her as she trailed off into unintelligible sounds again. “Well, what I’m trying to say is I have unconditional love for the entire human race.”

“I can’t understand that,” she muttered.

“I cannot hurt a single human being without feeling bad.”

That I can understand.”

“… No matter what they’ve done to me or to someone else, I cannot not feel guilty about.”

“Well, I can’t say I agree with it-”

“Well, you know, all I ask for is an open mind. All I ask. You don’t have to agree with my views, you just have to respect them… I don’t have to agree with you at all but I have to respect you.” I should have added, ‘as a fellow human being’ at the end but I still think I got my message accross… in essence, at least.

We ate at a really good Thai food place that day and I tried dumplings for the first time in my life. They were FANTABULOUS. I LOVED them. It was really filling, too. I couldn’t finish it so I let my acquaintance eat some of the rest of my rice. Some of us had “ice cream” afterward when we were walking back to the place we were supposed to meet the teachers and the other students at a certain time. (You know those big blue freezer things in the corner stores with popsicles and Dibs and stuff in them? Well that was our “ice cream.” I had Dibs. It was a hot day so I enjoyed it.)

So yeah. That’s more or less what life’s been lately. I’d write more and more often but things have been kind of hectic lately… (and I’ve kind of been focussing too much time on Polyvore)

I haven’t been to a Students’ Council meeting in a while since I haven’t heard anything on the announcements about meetings in maybe a couple of weeks and neither the SC President or the teacher in charge has asked me in the halls, “Hey, [insert my SC nickname here which I’m leaving out because it’s derived from my last name], you coming to the meeting tonight/at lunch/today?”

They used to do that all the time.

The one time I waited outside of the Students’ Council room at lunch on a Monday (a couple weeks ago) the SC prez. came to the door and told me there was no meeting that day, but if I wanted to help cut out capes (yes, capes) to give away free for the upcoming Cape Day (yes, Cape Day) spirit day, I was welcome to.

So of course, I did. And I talked to people I wouldn’t normally, telling them how “All the cool kids wear capes!” I was so excited for Cape Day. I was going to get my Harry Potter fleece blankie and tie it around my neck. And then Cape Day finally came!

… and I forgot all about it until someone asked me where was my cape.

So upon suggestion of a friend I took my sweater off and tied it around my neck/shoulders by the sleeves. When the SC prez and a couple of her closer friends came around to count Spirit Day Participation, I asked them if I counted and one of them said, “Sure [insert my SC nickname which I am leaving out because it is derived from my last name]!” enthusiastically. We probably could’ve gotten a LOT more Spirit Day Participation points if more people knew that tying your sweater around your neck/shoulders could count.

But who really cares, anyway? We’re (somehow!?) ranking #6 on the “Home Form Cup Leaderboard” which hangs on the wall outside the SC room. (The “Home Form Cup” is where homeroom classes get points for spirit day participation and competitions for fund-raising or something else. We did a Winter Olympics thing while the actual Olympics was going on. I recall that the Accounting class beat a Gym class even though the majority of the events we cycled through were athletic events. I recall them getting cereal-box cardboard medals. The homeroom with the most points by the end of the semester gets a pizza party or a sub party or something of that nature.)

So. It’s 12:39 AM. I’ve been literally working on this blog entry non-stop since yesterday.


Good night.

Alex Violet.


May 16, 2010

Okay, so I made this thing on Polyvore today and I wanted to share. It’s sort of a picture with a whole lot of embellishments then a speech about all the stuff I’ll do with my life. (I’m copying and pasting the description.)

UntitledFashion Trends & Styles - Polyvore

Untitled by DinosaurMuffin on Polyvore.com

Today you think I’m the quiet one in the back of the classroom.
I was the “smart one” you never got to know.
I was “good at everything,” a good artist, a writer, and therfore good at all else.
But I really was good at art, and I loved to write.
I shocked you when you saw me in drama class.
I didn’t surprise you by being on the students’ council.
It blew your mind, though, that I was writing a novel.
A fifteen-year-old high school kid from a military town, wanting to write a novel. Ha! Imagine that.
No, wait. AND thinking it would get published. Now THAT’S humour.
But then it gets published.
And you read it just to see what the commotion’s all about.
You give up halfway through because the writing’s too deep for you.
You think it’s a load of crap.
You make fun of it for all your friends and act like you were my best friend back in the day when people ask you about me.
And then I start getting into politics.
You’re not completely surprised, since I was always a “smartie.”
But you always thought I’d be more of a math teacher.
Well, you know what?
I got a 52 in tenth grade math.
So shut up.
You thought I was the quietest person in the world; you even voted me “quietest” for the yearbook.
Well, you know what?
I got a 90% in ninth grade drama.
It wasn’t because I was really good at acting like someone I wasn’t, it was because I was good at relating to people.
There was always so many dimensions to my soul and so many different sides of me that you never understood.
And as I gain steam in politics, you vote for me because you doubt anyone else will.
Then I win the election.
I keep reaching higher, and I keep making bigger goals.
The funny thing is, I keep achieving them too.
And you think I’ve somehow cheated at life, you can’t believe I did all this.
As you sit there in awe, watching me being announced prime minister of Canada on television, you think to yourself, “How the hell did she do it?”
And you just can’t comprehend it.
So all you can think of to do is turn to the hundredth guy who promised to be with you forever, and say, “I knew her when,”
Because you saw my face when. You knew my name when. You knew the name of my school and for all I know or care, what street I lived on.
But the truth is, you still can’t figure it out.
You can’t figure out how I did all this, publishing books and leading the world, learning and dreaming while you were publishing “BOOOORRRREEEEEEDDDD.” a thousand times as your facebook status.
When you gave up on dreaming, when you decided these dreams were out of reach, you stopped reaching.
But I never stopped reaching.
I never cared how impossible you told me things were, because I knew and know the truth.

You can’t just sit there and wait for things to happen.

Alex Violet

Camping last weekend.

May 13, 2010

Been a while since my last post, so here’s a general update on what’s been going on in my life.

I went camping last weekend with pathfinders, somewhere way up north in Ontario. (I live in southern Ontario.) The ride was more than two hours and on the way there Tigger (pathfinder leader which I must’ve mentioned at least a gazillion times) made me “navigate” since I got stuck with shotgun seat. (I didn’t want shotgun since there were other two other pathfinders getting a ride and I wanted a backseat closer to where the conversation was.)

It didn’t make much sense, Tigger having me “navigate.” Navigating was reading a list of directions she’d printed off of MapQuest prior to the trip, and reading and re-reading and re-re-re-re-re-re-times-infinite-reading these instructions (especially at every turn we took through towns and stuff along the way), even though she had a flipping GPS telling her where to go. Really, all this extra work was not necessary.

Normally I don’t trust in GPS machines in cars since I’ve heard bad things about what happens when somebody relies too much on it. (Like a driver being led right into a lake and not even questioning it until it was too late.) But this thing echoed me.

TIGGER: Okay, Alex, what do the directions say?

ALEX: [Reads complete directions word-for-word, punctuation for punctuation in a rather flight-attendant-sounding voice.]

TIGGER: [Insert random segment of the directions here, like turn left at whatever route number], right?

ALEX: [Repeats.]

TIGGER: What’s after that?

ALEX: [Reads out next direction, word-for-word, punctuation for punctuation.]

GPS: Turn left at [whatever street] in approximately [whatever] [kilometres/metres/whatever].

TIGGER: Is that what it says on the directions?

ALEX: Yes, Tigger, that’s what it says.

TIGGER: How far until the next turn?

And I’m hardly sensationalizing. It got annoying and everytime we had a pit stop, the GPS would be all, “Off route. Recalculating.” And then it would give us directions on how to get back on the road to the camp.

After we got back in the car, Tigger would basically have me read out all the directions we had yet to fufill, word-for-word, punctuation-for-punctuation.

We eventually arrived at the camp late. (Side note: Pathfinders in my group that came consisted of Brianna and a girl I’ll call Kitty- which was her nickname when we were in guides together. She doesn’t seem to be called that usually anymore though.) There were two guide groups there, and two of the girls were special. One of them had fetal alcohol syndrome, barely said a word, and quickly grew attatched to Brianna. The other girl we didn’t know had any issues until the next day when she wailed about having to go last to wash her dishes and dumped her hot chocolate in the still-being-used dishwater. (She had autism.) No one but one guide leader seemed to know how to react, so we mostly just stared or walked away while the leader chastised the girl.

We’d expected to meet a pathfinder from Madoc who’d be camping with us, but she didn’t snow. I mean show. Maybe that’s because she heard about what the weather would be like on the weekend.

That’s right.

It was pouring rain and freezing non-stop for the whole weekend until Saturday when it decided to SNOW. IN MAY.

The first night we slept in tents. Large green tents (enough to easily or maybe not-so-easily fit 14 people) with velcro-shut doors. They were pretty much built-into a hardwood plank-type thing which was elevated something like a foot (or a half) off the ground.

We kept waking up in the middle of the night (as in the wee hours of it) to the door being blown open and ferociously waving in the wind while a rain puddle was forming (the worst of the rainstorm must’ve been the night) at the foot of our tent. All of us were too freezing cold and half-asleep (don’t blame it on regular teenage laziness) to get out of our sleeping bags and shut it. We figured it’d be blown open again anyway.

I wore two layers of fleece pajama bottoms, two layers of socks, regular undergarments, a tank top, a t-shirt, a heavy sweater (the kind they sell at Zellers that say Canada across the chest), and my winter coat to sleep. A winter hat, too. Tigger also lent me a heavy fleece blanket and I had my sleeping bag and an improvised pillow (my yoga bag stuffed with clean clothes) and held my stuffed lion for most of the night. I was surrounded by the other pathfinders on one side and my suitcase on the other. I still couldn’t feel my feet and my fingers were almost purple most of the time, and felt too cold the next morning to change out of anything that wasn’t fleece. So I wore my pajamas for the next day. When I got my wash-up stuff altogether, I realized my deodorant had frozen in its container thing. That got a few laughs.

I didn’t need it anyway.

The next day we spent most of the time inside the building (where even after a LONG time of the maybe-twenty-or-fifteen of us sitting there, we could still see our breath prominently in the air) making crafts and stuff. No one wanted us to leave and there were rumours spreading around about all the guides moving into one tent since the autistic girl had peed on another girl’s stuff overnight and the tent was unbearably smelly. We left the building mostly just to do tie-dye (it was a time-travel themed camp) and cook grilled cheese for lunch on buddy burners (buddy burners = a small fire covered in a coffee can with airholes to let the smoke out) when it wasn’t so bad out. I still got raindrops on my cheese though.

One of the oldest girl guides told us about some guides apparently sneaking into our tent at something like 3 AM.

The Pathfinders are sleeping like BABIES!

“No duh, it’s like, 3 AM. I’m jealous of them.”

We ended up spending Saturday night in the first floor of the building accross the street where the Brownies and Sparks were staying. This building was HEATED. πŸ˜€

As soon as we walked in all of us could feel our bodies beginning to thaw and when Tigger (who was on the side of having us sleep outside in the snow to earn our “Winter Camping” badge in MAY) wasn’t looking, a couple of awesomazing Brownie/Sparks leaders snuck us (just the pathfinders, I think) some mattresses. The mattresses were about two inches thick, covered with leathery fabric and the best cushioning I have EVER felt in my LIFE.

Memory foam would’ve been jealous.

Dropping onto the mattress and in the same comfy fleece clothing, (minus the extra blankie) I slept like a baby. πŸ˜›

Naw. I don’t think babies actually sleep well.

I slept more like my dad does watching animated movies. (He told me he’s been caught snoring in the theatre before.)

Or like I used to in French class last year. (I did it very subtly and skillfully- pick a comfy position with your eyes invisible from the teachers and head buried deep into your work, like you’re concentrating on reading. Don’t do that during a lesson or when you’re supposed to be answering questions, though. That’s stupid for your grade and you’ll get caught.)

Anyway, I slept GREAT.

Until Tigger woke all the pathfinders up at like, REALLY SUPER-DUPER early (six-ish) telling us to get ready before all the guides did. (OMG I almost typed ‘die’ there. :S)

Of course I kept insisting I didn’t care about waiting in a line-up for the bathroom and just leave. me. be. When she asked if I was even listening, I said yes, and that listening and obeying are two very different things. (Which is true.)

I didn’t have to wait for a line for very long either since most of the guides were getting their bedding all together and stuff before changing and washing up. Also, there was INDOOR PLUMBING (!) for the bathroom we were using and plus a bathroom upstairs for the brownies and sparks we could use in case of emergency. (It was the kind with several stalls in it.)

Before leaving, I got basically every one of the guides and leaders to sign my autograph book (which was a craft we made at camp) and recieved a button-on-a-string craft from one of the friendly guides. (The one that said about the girls sneaking into our tent.)

(I’ve got her on facebook now.)

On the way home I figured out a card trick. I also won several times playing cheat on the first night. (Because I have the best poker face in the world and am very good at strategies for games that involve lying. Not that I lie on any occasion other than games like cheat.)

I had a BALL.

Alex Violet

PS I’ve got this new friend who moved to my school from a couple hours away. We’re going to be new BFFs, as I said to her. Today some girl asked “So are you guys like, twins?” She was a hundred percent serious and shocked when my friend said she just moved here. “It’s just that you guys look so much alike and you have the same haircut and everything.” I thought that was cool. Later, she suggested we go shopping and buy the same outfit just to freak people out.

Like I said, we’re going to be great friends. πŸ™‚

Later note: Long story short, we didn’t work out as friends.

Music Monday!

May 3, 2010

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Hey, guess what? A band came to my school today for “Music Monday.” I got out of art class and recorded something like 25 minutes of them talking about the music industry. They performed afterward and I got a couple photos with the band members.

I’m also following them on twitter now. I’m not going to say who the band is, since it would DEFINITELY give away where I live; it’s posted right on their myspace page twice and one of the band members tweeted it.

They’re relatively unknown right now, (recently signed and all) and even though they claim to have been living in a “hippie bus” while on tour and that they’re “broke,” I DO firmly believe they’ll make it big.


When they performed, it was like giving a thousand gummy worms to a six-year-old or waking up to a snow day. Walking into a surprise party! Clinically depressed people would happy-dance at the sound.

As soon as the show was over, the majority of the audience flooded out of the auditorium and I desperately wanted to get a picture with them. But a good-quality one, not just the kind you take at arm’s length. So, as fast as I could, trying to maneuver myself around the crowd, I climbed over four rows of seats until I was within earshot of the next friend I saw to take the photo for me. (J.- that one I do yoga with who’s in my art class too.)

You know those movie-theatre seats the you have to flip down to sit on? Yeah, well my auditorium has those, but made of wood and metal. (Just as unstable, if not more so.) On my first step, my foot was basically eaten by the chair, swallowed in between its wood back and metal flip-seat-thing. Dammit, it hurt, but I had to go on!

And I did. I got 3 photos with various members of the band (I think one of them’s the bassist or the drummer and the other’s for sure the lead singer). One was like two ghostly figures in the dark due to poor auditorium lighting, but whatever. The lead singer was really nice about everything- the type of person who walks around the crowd rather than have you maneuver your way around it. And then checks to make sure the photo turned out okay with the poop auditorium lighting (and walks out into good lighting for a better photo) before you leave and the lead singer calls out, “Have a good one!”

“Thanks, you too!”

When I got home, Mother was at work so I had to get into the apartment myself. But oopsie-poopsie, I forgot my keys. It’s not the first time, either, so I did what I’ve always done. I walked all the way up to Mathew’s school to pick him up. (The first time I forgot my keys, I planned it mainly because I figured he’d have keys.)

IN THE SCORCHING, SOPPING HEAT, STILL CARRYING MY BACKPACK AND LUNCHBAG. (‘Sopping’ is a word, right? It sounds appropriate to me…) I want to complain about it being so hot so soon, but then I look at the calendar and realize it’s May. (Thank goodness, I think. May is the one month that always seems to never come, at least to me.)

And when I got to the school, I was a half-hour early. So I just went on a long walk on the roads intertwining the surrounding neighbourhood and took some pleasant photos. Beautiful, sunshine-y day, why shouldn’t I? I really love the neighbourhood up on top of the hill, by Mathew’s school. It’s so humble, pretty, and homey. It’s the street at the bottom of the hill where all the bad things happen.

(I live in this little apartment complex hidden at the side of the hill. Don’t get me wrong, poop still happens here, but I’ve not heard any gunshots like there are farther down the street. A couple nights ago I had the window open and couldn’t sleep, so I listened in to the loud conversation going on outside. There was the teen mother living in the apartment above me yelling at some man, saying, “You shoot people, [insert name in which I’ve forgotten here]! Forgive me for not wanting to invite you in because at anytime you could pull a gun on me and my kid! I’m sorry, but I don’t believe in killing people!” She sounded close to tears and all the while I was telepathically cheering her on.)

On my way back from the walk, I ran into my mother who drove me back to the school to pick up Mathew and back home. When I explained what I was doing, I got an expected smile, sigh, and eye roll. πŸ™‚

I also took a nap for like, an hour when I came home. Got minimal sleep last night because I stayed up ’til, like, midnight-thirty writing my vampire story. (Page 71 now. πŸ™‚ )

That’s pretty much the gist of my life today.

I don’t remember if I made an entry yesterday, but that’s okay. You didn’t miss much. I relaxed all weekend for once. This weekend I go camping.

Alex Violet

P.S. Yeah, I do, actually, make a new paragraph for each sentence so it seems like I’ve written more than I have.

Haha, no. Actually, I do that because when I’m reading it over, I personally find it easier to understand. It’s like giving someone a page of instructions versus a page of numbered instructions. Plus, it adds effect.

Emotion, whatever.

P. P. S. I’m under the impression that there was no Students’ Council meeting today since I waited outside the SC room for five minutes and no one showed. (Not even to tell me there was no meeting.) I feel like I missed something significant… whatever. I’ve been to mostly all the other meetings, anyway. Can’t win ’em all…
Maybe it was for the best anyway because the weather’s hot- but it’s cooler outside where there’s a breeze. I spent some time outside during lunch with a friend (who’s an absolute RAY OF SUNSHINE!) from pathfinders I haven’t seen in a while and one of her other friends. I felt AWESOME afterward.