I'm in. I'm in. They accepted me. I'm going to Alternative next year. I'm so happy. I'm off to do something productive before I burst.

My weekend has been different. Dad and Erik went up to Fernie for "the boy's weekend." Mom and I stayed home. Last night I went with her to her drumming group. It was horrific. I think I may have experienced the final death rattle of this particular group.

They talked for an hour before they began playing, and this group seems to have a lot of issues. One woman in particular makes me grind my teeth in anger.

Anyway, it wasn't a pretty sight, and sadly when they do actually play they sound pretty decent. They have two gigs coming up, but I don't think they will all make it until the summer.

The really terrible thing is, that band is my social circle.

That simple fact is frightening. These women have been around me since I was in elementary school. I've been attending practices, and going to gigs. Pretending that I was cool because I knew the band.

I used my mothers band as an excuse not to have peers. My mother used her band to pretend that she was social. My father used her band to pretend that he had friends, that he too, was cool.

My brother was the only smart one in this whole ordeal, he avoided the drums and the drummers at all costs.

So, what am I to do now? I'm not sure how to answer that, or if I even want too.


Today, I slept in until noon, so I wasn't able to go see the African Drumming down at the Children's Festival, which really is too bad. Apparently they were amazing, but when I woke up I just didn't have the energy to pull myself together.

Mom and I went and visited Grandma instead. Then we went on a movie binge. We rented Girl with a Pearl Earring and In America. We went to A&A to get dinner, then returned home to watch the hockey game. "We" won. My mother is a fanatic.

We only managed to watch In America after the game. It was amazing. I highly suggest you rent it. Amazing, the girls in it are unbelievable, and the story is too.

Tomorrow we are going to watch Girl With a Pearl Earring, go to the Lantern meeting (uugh) and hopefully purchase some airline tickets to somewhere other than here.

On the upside, if the past is any indication, by all rights I should have spent the day on the couch writhing in pain. I didn't. *big huge too good to be true smiles*

Monday is coming very soon and I feel like I'm crawling out of my skin with anticipation.

I can't remember how I managed to write things before, but lately the most detailed thing I've written is the shopping list. I feel brain dead, but only when I think about it. Actually, thinking about it now, it might just be guilt.

I'm very busy, which is excellent. Tonight I have to finish covering my creature in chicken wire, for the second time. Then go to work.

In about an hour I will be writing my Circles unit test, and I had such high hopes for this. I'm sorry if I've explained before, but the test was supposed to be on Tuesday, so I studied for about an hour on Sunday night. I was so excited, because I figured that I'd do really well. Turns out they switched it to today, and I haven't had any extra time to study.

Last night we had an Amanda, an Amber, a clown and the neighbor's cat all hanging around our house. The cat was by far the most entertaining, she spent the entire evening pacing around our yard catching mice, then letting them go, then catching them again. My mother is freaked out, these mice are the size of my fist. It looks like she wants to get another cat now.

I have my Alternative interview Monday at Three... or some time very close to that. I'm way too excited to be nervous at this point. I guess that's a good thing.
Speaking of Alternative, they were in last weeks FFWD, and the article was written by one of the English teachers(who is also a music critic in her spare time.) They were also on the little local SHAW news channel. The 30th anniversary is this year, so everyone is making a big deal out of it. I think I'm going to like the principal.

It's nice out again, and the boys are going away for the weekend. Mom and I are having a lazy slacker weekend, though I doubt either of us will be lazy.

So, I've been putting off writing this, because I'm not sure I want the entire world to hear about this, but also, I know that if I stay quite it's even worse.

That being said, I'm having definite issues with one of my teachers. This is pissing me off, because the number of good teacher I've known is dwindling, especially in comparison to the bad teachers I've had.

So a teacher, who will remain nameless is playing favorites. I am the favotrite. Which at first is okay, because if you'd seen the rest of the class you'd understand too. I am the only one is two separate classes of students that has any interest in the subject at all.

Okay, fine whatever, I'll pretend it's not happening. I'll bask in the extremely easy credits for a class that I shouldn't really be allowed to take.

Then, he compliments me, all the time. About everything. My talent, my marks in other classes, then my appearance. Then he tells me I remind him of his wife.

What the fuck? Is that supposed to be a good thing? I'm thinking "alright, this is just me, being paranoid. It's just because I don't trust men. I'm imagining all of this. It's. Not. Happening."

So, I start being distant. I avoid him. I stop working on specific projects. I stop going to both of the classes. (I am in period one, but most of the time I go to the period three class as well, because spares suck and previously there wasn't anything better to do.)

Then, last week sometime. Tuesday I think, weird things start to happen. At the end of the class he takes me aside on my way out. I'm pissed off, because things weren't going well that morning. Then he says, and this is a direct quote, and I know this because it played over and over and over in my head all through math class.

"I have a prep next period Karyn, why don't I call your math teacher and then you and I can discuss what to do with the rest of our class."

What is that supposed to mean to me? I mean he's always asking what he should do with the class because is is a fucking horrible teacher. What am I supposed to think about that?

I bolted right after he said that, because alarm bells went of in my head, and my rabid feminist tendencies kicked in and I freaked out.

So, now I don't particularly want to go to that class again. Ever. However, I've worked a deal out with another girl in my class so that I'm never ever alone. I've also figured out how to lock myself in the dark room, so I can still go in there and develop stuff by my self. It just pisses me off.

If he does anything ever again to make me the slightest bit uncomfortable I'm going to a counselor because I refuse to let another teacher ruin my trust in teachers.

So, if you have any other suggestions I'd love to hear what ANYONE ELSE think about all this.

I have returned.

My father is still mostly oblivious. My mother is still mostly pacifist. I am still in the middle. There was a moment Sunday afternoon where my father was no longer oblivious because my mother was no longer a pacifist and I had to yell cowabunga to get them to stop shouting.

Things like that are what make me tired.

All in all, the weekend was exactly what I needed to get me going again. This evening I studied for the first time in months. Amazing what nearly failing two unit tests for two different subjects in the course of a week will do to improve ones sense of doom.

I read a few books this weekend:

The Curious incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon. It was amazing, I highly recommend it. I learned a lot about Autism.

Luna by Julie Anne Peters, which will be officially released on May 26th. It was also pretty good. It's narrated by this girl who's brother is transgendered and is becoming a girl. It's quite informative, etc.

Sister Slam by Linda Oatman High, Terrible. Absolutely awful. Really cool concept, too bad the author was writing for four year olds.

Right now I'm in the middle of Miss Smithers, by Susan Juby, which is the sequel to Alice, I Think. I suppose it has a lot to live up too, but it's not that great either.

So, that gives you some idea of what I did with my weekend.

My laptop has a virus.

I watched an episode of The Passionate Eye all about "Sex, Drugs and Middle Age" or something exactly like that. My father is frightened that I was so interested in it. The general idea of the show was anti aging with a lot of emphasis on viarga. I'll laugh if I end up teaching sex ed one day.

I am in a sour mood. My family is flailing around madly and I am on the edge. It's like skating around the ice playing crack the whip and I'm at the end of the chain. But no body will let go.

The Folk Fest business is becoming the center of my universe. The worse things go the more stressed my mother becomes, the more work I have to do and the worse it all looks from a distance.

I am tired. Point. I am completely exhausted and therefore I am creating crap. My lantern looks like a robot, and I am frustrated to such an extent I could cry. I would mention details, but only one person reading this would actually understand, so I'll spare you.

I have come to the conclusion that the 5 hours that I spent today accomplished very little, and I need to take it all apart and put a different skin on it. This will not be fun.

I feel like I'm drowning. I have so much on the go it's overwhelming. I'm having trouble breathing again, which isn't helping things much.

However, I feel amazing. Today I was happy. H.a.p.p.y. It felt wonderful.

Everything is piling up. I've been going steady and it just keeps adding on top and the piles are huge and not going anywhere because I can seem to settle on one project for various reasons. I like being busy. I like feeling overwhelmed, that I have a sense of purpose. Defense mechanism I suppose.

Today I took the day off, something I've also not had in a long time. I went and met Nico, or rather she met me, at the train station and then we went to the graveyard over by the Stampede grounds. I was cursing my self, and trying to restrain my self from muttering "god damn it." under my breath while Nico hurtled over the headstones. I. Left. My. Camera. At. Home. How stupid is that. There were some really amazing shots, if you can get past the industrial park that surrounds it.

I climbed trees today, which brought back so many memories of last year. I seem to be in a permanent state of nostalgia. I don't know why but,

Today I was Happy.

Today
8:45

School:
CommTech: make Emily is my God t-shirt.
Math: Write level test 4 and 5 for the circle unit.

11:17

Get in car with Mom and drive to Alternative.
Hand in application.
Drive back down the street to Sheri's, kiss her babies, play with her babies, possibly have a bit of tea. Remember how much I want a little Kai of my own.

1:30

Drive home.

2:00

Gather up everything we need in a wild frenzy. Pile it all into the car. Drive to Brians.

Spend many many hours sitting in his dark crowded basement on the steps with his dog while he and my mother spot weld.

5:00

Go home. Eat in a crazy rush. Gather things, once again. Run out the door and into babysittee's car.

5:30

Begin babysitting gig with small nearly potty trained, three year old boy with a cold/possibly flu. Joy.
Watch ToyStory
Watch Finding Nemo
Plead to get child into bed.
Read to him.
Put him to sleep with my reading.
RETREAT to the basement.
Watch About A Boy.

Return Home.

SLEEP.

Tomorrow: Hijinks with Nico.
Sunday: Lantern mania.

Also, simply because if I don't say it now you probably won't ever hear it;

Math is fun. It's like puzzles. It will be over soon though, and I will once again return to hating it.

I find it odd that all my anxiety related issues have gone away. I know what I'm doing, I have a plan. Now that I've decided what I'm going to do in High School, where I'm going to do it and how I'm going to do it, I have no trouble at all looking at Universities. I'm actually excited. I've been reading the really amazing book of Canadian Universities and I'm liking Mt. Allison in Sackville, N.B. I loved it when I was there in the summer, though the only part of Sackville that I saw was the local WENDY'S/Tim Hortons conglomeration of a rest stop, and the university.

My mother wants to move, completely and desperately. It will pass though. However, today, or maybe yesterday, she said, "Grandma would hate it if she knew we had stayed her all this time just because of her." And it's true. She would hate it and we have stayed.

I'm enjoying the anxiety free, panic free, almost completely stress free time I'm having. This evening after work I designed a Emily Hanes/Metric t-shirt that I'm going to try to print tomorrow or Monday, or sometime in the near future. But hopefully tomorrow so I can wear it on Friday and Saturday and Sunday, and show my complete and total idolization of Emily. I really should have it saying "I think Emily is HOT" on the back of it, being that it's possibly my only catch phrase. But I don't really think that would be all that appropriate, considering the amount of Emily's that I know.

Tonight I played a game with Nico which involved me guessing what her Friday afternoon activities are going to be, and her giving really, really vague hints. Apparently I will be shocked, confused and then I'll realize that I shouldn't have expected anything else from her. However, I'm sure it's dangerous/destructive/and(or) stupid.

It's melting. My hair is being seriously shaggy. I'm liking it.

I made everything but the wings on my dragon tonight, regarding the frame. So far it looks pretty decent. I can't wait to get it built though.

I spent an hour and a half listening to the same 30 seconds of percussion recording, through my headphones, sticks in hand, trying desperately to decode the beats and make it something manageable for my poor mother and her floundering band.

I am making another zine for CommTech. I have no idea what to do. I know what I want it to look like, but that's about it. I need content. CONTENT!

I didn't go to Drumheller today, as was planned. It was snowing, and there were, alas HEAVY SNOWFALL WARNINGS. Today at Safeway our cashier said Merry Christmas to us. Sheesh. For a minute I actually though I'd missed an entire six months and it was suddenly December.

Today, there is snow on the ground, but yesterday it looked like this.

I've been having really strange dreams lately. Last night in my dream I was hit by a car, because I fainted, because I had CO2 poisoning. Then we (my parents and I) went to my school, which wasn't actually my school, it was the prison without stalls around the toilets. We consulted 4 teachers, my social teacher, my English teacher, a strange man I've never met before but I assume him to be a math teacher, and Mr. Ung. It was mostly like a parent teacher interview, except that these aren't my teachers anymore, and I had a broken leg, which didn't look or feel broken, and we were discussing my injuries rather than my grades.

Yesterday during my nap I had a dream that I was five again and curled up in Jonah's lap and he was hugging me with the best hug in the entire world.

I went to sleep at 12PM this afternoon and when I woke up half an hour ago at 3:30 all of the snow was gone.

I stayed home today. My mother is falling apart. She hasn't slept in over three days. My brother hasn't really either. Last night he was okay and then all of a sudden he was screaming. This happened right after dinner, so dad rushed him off to the clinic thinking he had an ear infection. Mom and I rented Love Actually, because she needs to chill. When they returned home Erik took his antibiotics and then proceeded to sit on the couch crying for about half an hour before mom coaxed him into bed and we finished watching the movie.

My intent today is to keep mom from burning out and to get the laundry done. Trouble is, I'm burnt out myself. I need a nap already and it's only 9:30. Pathetic.

Today I am the mother.

My knuckles are dry, peeling and now, many of them are cracking. This is unpleasant to say the very least, but however, I did not make any attempt to stop it when my hands were simply too dry from the many many times I've washed my hands in the past few days. Now, that they sting every time I clench my fists, I am too stupid to go find hand lotion and the self-destructive side of me doesn't care.

My art is going to be in a show. A real show, in a real gallery. Nevermind that I did this particular piece over a year ago, and never mind that it's going to be in a children art show, and nevermind the fact that I am nearly an adult.

As for details. It's at the Triangle Art Gallery, which is directly beside city hall. It's called Beyond the Fridge Door and it runs May 20th till June 4th. You can go see it Tues-Friday from 11-5, Sat from 12-4. I'm not only shamelessly plugging my work here, but I'm also encouraging you to go see the really awesome stuff that kids create. I went last year, and then a few years ago, it's really quite cool.

More later.

Squeeeeeee! *Jumps up and down* They just played Whisper by Slovo for me on CKUA!!!!!!!!! AND she said my name right!!!!

Someone taught me how to lose myself. How to concentrate so hard on the body that the mind subsides. He died about a year ago. I keep thinking I see him sometimes and it seems weird that he's doesn't have a body anymore. My mind is always full and he taught us that for character development the key was to forget who you are. He was my seventh grade drama teacher. It seem like such an insignificant role in my life, but I still remember him more prominently in my mind that many of my other teachers. I can't remember why I never took drama after that.

I used to forget who I was, I'd remove myself from the picture and invent a character from the ground up. I would wake up early in the morning and begin, just as if I were applying makeup I'd want to be that day. I'd stay in their mind set for days, picking up mannerisms and traits that were never detailed, but still that were never my own. That's how I coped. It was like cutting. If I couldn't let people see me, they couldn't hurt me.

It made complete sense when I was twelve.

I'm afraid I have nothing to say. Except that it's over and my old regret is that I still have not participated in a high school party. I was invited this time, but I declined, simply because I don't want to know where the enemy sleeps, I have no interest in getting drunk or the impending hang hangovers, and the whole idea of it makes me very nervous.

The contrast between my mother when she was my age and me is immeasurable. She was a hippy, she dated many boys, many of whom I've met, one was particularly nice. He had a wonderful puppy and little kittens were playing in his bed. He died of leukemia a few years ago. She went to concerts and partied and was constantly surrounded by people.
I don't understand where I came from and I don't understand where she went.

Tonight my father got under my skin. Everything he said and did made me grind my teeth. He forgets about my mother and I don't respect him as much because of that. He is aloof and self absorbed. He didn't notice that she cleaned the house so he could have a kitchen party tonight and my mother is angry. Silent.

Paul Mounsey is pulsing through the house despite it being nearly midnight. I want to go for a run but my body abandons me on such endeavors.

Today I was slapped by a boy. Instantly I hated him. I hate myself for simply letting him. I hate that I didn't retaliate, that I was too tired and to complacent to do anything about it so I went to class with my stinging face.