A Few Art Project Portraits...

They'll look best if you click them. =)

Hello From Math Class?

Next to me, is a very strange boy. His name is, for my purposes, Mappy. Mappy and I have the good fortune of being trapped in a year-long math course together. While I was browsing my own blog, checking comments, he demanded I make a post. I had to write something deep. I had to mention he was here.

And so he is. Dark hair haphazard across his forehead, falling onto the lenses of his glasses, flat blue eyes peering out in an amused fashion. He's got the tendency to fidget, it's really quite irritating, but I can deal with him. He's one of the only friends I find in this cold, unfeeling sea of faces...And he just left.

He's got a kind of lumbering step when he moves, a half shuffle as he makes his way back again. He's pedantic, he's brilliant, and he just stabbed himself with his own pen. Apparently, it hurts. Who would have thought?

There's something else that hurts. The realization that this is the last real class of my Math 10 experience, and more than likely is the fact that it's my last class with Mappy and the rest of the math class troupe, mainly Sailor, Fauntleroy and Stravinsky. (Sailor is a sea cadet, Fauntleroy is a rich brat, and Stravinsky has strong musical talent.)

Mappy says I need seventeen paragraphs. And a picture. And that I need to sketch him. But I don't think I'll do that. I think I'll leave this here, open ended and thoughtful, perusing the future of my high school career.

...I'm listening to Rite of Spring. Stravinsky. Woo.

Just Noticed...

That I actually had some comments. I should address those.

No, this isn't private, if it was private, I'd keep a diary under my mattress like the other girls. It's okay. You can read it. You can link to it. You can comment on it. You can love it or hate it. It's all good.

Bleeping Bleepy Bleep!!

So I'm doing a project on censorship in popular culture, and so far, I've learned nothing except how much I don't like it. What if I had an idea that could change the world? What if I was a revolutionary? A visionary? But what if the way I thought to do it, and the way I wrote it was obscene to somebody somewhere. What if, heaven forbid, I offended someone?

Well that would just be awful, eh?

Yeah.

You know what.

Screw you, censorship.

You can't imagine the best parts of humanity if you don't have the choice of exposing yourself to the dirty, vulgar, obscene places. Of exploring them and delving into them as deep as you can. If you understand everything horrid, you can truly comprehend what is good.

But that's up to you, I'm just one opinionated girl.

This Is My Life

So, after an unwelcome surprise visit from my mother yesterday, and an hour or so of hiding in the attic bedroom, I came back to Mirror's place. We had a fun night, but today was unsettled in the house. Sister's been in a foul mood. So we cheered her up while everyone else was out and Baby was sleeping.
Never thought I'd see this!

Mission accomplished.
She looks super grown up here...

Shoe Ninja vs. Bathtub Pirate

So, the Family has officially acquired their new dwelling, and I'm so excited. We went to see it tonight and my heart just raced! It's the kind of house I live for, so old fashioned and comfortable. The tub made me ecstatic, it's the massive claw-foot kind I left behind when I moved from my childhood home. This has been a good day.

Mirror's Room
Together with Mama and the kids, we're standing in what may be my favourite space, his new room. I'm thrilled about the view from here, but I wish he didn't look so nervous about the window. Sure, there's a little bit of space around the screen, but I'll kill all the bugs for him; I'd do anything for him.

The light in this room makes me ask myself how I could want to be anywhere else. It's the warm orange glow of a sun aching to set on a long spring day, and you can tell she's been fighting with the rain clouds too long. The aura of light catches the orange in his magnificent blue eyes. I can even see myself reflected in his pupils, and I'm smiling. We're going to make memories here.

Shoe Ninja

So, the reason I say I'm an orphan, is that my mother threw me out a while ago. And my parents are divorced. My dad never calls. I don't think I've spoken to him since February, and I go weeks without hearing from my mother.

But when I moved, I didn't get all my stuff. I had one pair of my shoes. One pair out of maybe twelve. And last night, it rained, hard, and walking to Mirror's from the bus, I got drenched. Fabric sneakers became completely unwearable, and this morning, they still hadn't dried.

So I called my sister, and had her leave the front door unlocked. Like a creeper I snuck into their garage, avoiding the kennels where the dogs barked and yelped at me, ducked across the floor in my sock feet, and grabbed the two pairs of shoes I could see. What I heard? A rustling. Panic, overwhelming panic. I didn't know if they were getting up, or if they were already on their way towards me. All I knew was that I did not want to be caught. Like lightning, I bolted out the door, and threw myself in the car, screaming at Grandma...."Drive! Drive!"

Yeah. I had to steal my own shoes.