Let's Dance to Joy Division

This week has contained nothing but copious amounts of stress. It's now November, which means it's the end of the first marking period. The end of the first marking period translates to only one thing for me and that's "holy shit". Various forms of the f bomb occasionally get thrown in the mixture depending on how creative I'm feeling that day. I take on the appearance and mannerisms of Gollum. If you were to ever pass me in the halls, you'd see a little angry sleep deprived Asian girl mumbling foul words under her breath. See stress this is what you do to me...

In other exciting events in my life, I contracted an eye infection. Meaning I couldn't wear my contacts all week. And because I wouldn't dream of wearing my glasses in public and would rather fumble haplessly around the school... That's exactly what I did. This proved to be a win-lose situation.

Win: I had a viable excuse for ignoring people in the hallway. If I can't differentiate between the faces of my friends and my eighty year old history teacher, then how am I supposed to acknowledge you in the halls?

Lose: I was accused of being either a. drunk, or b. just plain stupid. If on the odd chance someone would in fact try to talk to me. I would have to get extremely and uncomfortably close to their face, just so I could identify whom I was speaking with.

Lose: The process of copying board notes was next to impossible.

Lose: My lack of vision combined with my non-existent coordination = frequent and embarrassing collisions in the stairwell.

Also last week was my schools annual ~Pep Rally~. Cue the confetti and school spirit. I have really nothing to say about that other than it was really loud and awful. One of the kids in my class brought heavy duty sound blocking (I'm a construction worker) type headphones and his Nintendo DS. Honestly I think he had the right idea.

I leave you with a hipper than hip downloadable playlist.

Wet Cement

Dear Summer,
I hope you know that you're an asshole for leaving me. Or maybe I'm just an idiot for taking you back (not that it's much of a choice anyway). This happens EVERY SINGLE YEAR. You show up uninvited in June, and then leave just like that come September. You're a selfish individual, but you don't need to do this. Just think of all the good times we've shared the past three months. The late nights followed by waking up at noon, the countless beach trips, and the infinite amount of hours we spent just lazing around. Did that mean anything to you? I wasn't even planning on returning to school this year. You promised permanent residency in a seaside cottage. Just you and me. No work, no school, no responsibility. I was perfectly happy knowing that I was going to frolic in fields and bob in oceans for the rest of my blissful existence, but I can feel things changing. The days are getting shorter, and the air's grows chillier each day. You lied. You're a pathetic excuse for a season. I can't believe I fooled myself into thinking that I could formulate a civil relationship with you. You're lazy and unreliable. It would have never worked out. Now as I patiently await your return I'll be hanging around Fall, Winter, and Spring. You won't be missed. I hope you're miserable.
Most unwarmly,
Leah

Now there's an angsty breakup letter I never had the pleasure of writing. I've personally never been screwed over THAT bad, but this isn't about me. It's about you. More importantly it's about ME helping YOU combat your post-summer depression.

Things I hope will raise your happiness meter (even if it's only a fraction):

Youtube - maps, How To: Wake Children Up Pleasantly, Duet With Myself, OMG you look SO hot, 100 YEARS / STYLE / EAST LONDON, Puppy wants Pizza!, LOLcats, the travelers., The TV Theme Medley, AUDREY TAUTOU SCREEN TEST AMELIE SUBTITLES

Vimeo - I'm Comic Sans, Asshole, Too much candy, Foolishly Seeking True Love, MARCEL THE SHELL WITH SHOES ON, GOOGLE STREET VIEW

8tracks - broken drums and tambourines , Songs That Make You Turn The Volume Knob Clockwise , Secrets from the wind

If it's any consolation, seeing what everyone's going to wear on the first day of school's always fun. Coming into my 11th year of schooling, I've seen my fair share of first day outfits; some more memorable than others... Everybody's so eager to make a good first impression. They all want to show off their new clothing and haircuts. I think everyone secretly hopes that over the summer they've undergone a miraculous transformation so that once they return to school people will start treating them with respect and new found appreciation. At least that's what I delude myself into thinking, but I could be just over-analyzing things...

I've already had the pleasure of starting school so this Tuesday won't nearly be as awkward and uncomfortable. Okay yes it will be, BUT I'll be fully prepared. For everyone else starting this week, I wish you godspeed.

Black Swan

And so the countdown begins. Exactly seven days from Monday I will be in school. Exactly seven days from tonight I will be contemplating creative ways I can contract a severe imaginary disease prohibiting me from ever leaving my bedroom. I received my schedule Wednesday. You know what I love? Being the first to show up to a class and then having the pleasure of praying someone you know walks through the door. Wait... I stand corrected *praying someone you "LIKE, and can TOLERATE" walks through the door because there's honestly nothing worse than being stuck in a room full of people you despise (the story of my life).
I'm going to sound like a major asshole, but I've broken it down into the types of people I cannot stand to be in a class with

• That kid who asks numerous times to have the instructions repeated
• That kid who needs an additional five minutes to copy down what's on the board
• That "know-it-all" kid who smugly raises their hand for every question and then does a silent cheer when they get the answer right
• That kid who asks "aren't you going to check our homework" because they're the only kid that completed the assignment
• That kid who doesn't do any work during group projects

Just thinking about this raises my blood pressure. The idea of having to see all the people I so successfully avoided all summer five days a week, makes me reconsider taking an anger management class. Why can't you rage quit life...

On the flip side, I went shopping with my friends yesterday and I now know what I'm wearing on the first day of school. I find that the mornings are a lot less stressful when you plan ahead because the days I blindly choose my outfits also tend to be the most humiliating. Coincidence? I think not. I woke up one morning five minutes prior to the time I was supposed to be leaving the house. In a quick haste I threw on a pair of shorts and an old t-shirt. Which in retrospect doesn't sound too bad. It's no fashion statement, but hardly an outfit I would be embarrassed of. I failed to notice that the shorts had a gaping hole in the crotch area. I looked like a homeless prostitute. So the moral of that story kids is if you end up procrastinating your wardrobe choices you'll find yourself questioning why people are offering to buy you lunch or asking you if you're experiencing "any problems at home".

A Love Story… In Milk from Catsnake on Vimeo.

After all that angst I feel like I should make it up to you with this overly cheery and cute video. Kind of...

Imagine

This year's going to be different. This year I strive for straight A's. This year I will stop all procrastination nonsense. This year I will be friendly and approachable. This year I will say hi when I see people in the hallways. This year I will be organized and put together. Freshmen will pass me in the halls and look at me with gobsmacked awe "just who is that extremely poised and sophisticated young woman" they'll wonder, and people will reply "Oh that's Leah she's really going places. I mean have you seen her color coordinated subject binder?" I'm going to be "that kid". The kid you all envy because you can't possibly compete with their perfect academic performance. "I've graded your physics tests and I must say I'm quite disappointed. While the majority of you failed this exam, one student managed to score a 100%". The teacher will then proceed to shoot me a knowing look that acknowledges my scholarly excellence. My peers however will shoot me icy death glares, hoping that that will wipe the smug smile off my face. Hey nobody ever said that being a proclaimed genius was easy.

This is as personal as it gets. I just let you in on my most secret hopes and dreams. The image I painted for you is quite different from the disturbing and unglamorous reality that is my life. Everyday I trudge into school half awake and dressed most inappropriately. Sometime after first period my eyesight fully adjusts so that when I look into the mirror I'm hit by my glaring wardrobe choices. I.E; Inside out clothing, mixed matched socks, uneven shirt buttoning... you catch my drift. I show up to every class red faced, extremely out of breath and every so often I'll start wheezing and clutching my throat. From an outsiders perspective one may think that I was experiencing an asthma attack, but no these are just the inconvenient effects of A. Being extremely out of shape, and B. Having no concept of time management. My sunny disposition is close to nonexistent. I have never in my life been described as having a warm personality. In fact most people often compare me to the arctic circle, as we're both frigid and most unfriendly to anything living. On the rare occasion I'll go out of my way to make friends and be sociable, but it just feels so... wrong. As far as my academics and studying habits go just travel through my previous blog entries.

• Reasons why I'm awake at 2:00AM writing my English paper that was assigned two weeks ago.
• Playground Love

I really could try revamping my entire personality and transforming my slacker ways but I'm already in too deep. I have college for that, but I'll cross that bridge when I get there.

On the topic of school... I'm in the need of a new backpack. For the past years all I've been using is a shoulder tote and quite frankly this year that's not going to cut it. If someone could lend me six hundred dollars I'd be more than happy to sign a contract promising you seven years of indentured servitude.