it's disturbing how much people can mean to you only after such a short while. it made me wonder why we wasted so much time during elementary and high school. the semester was everything ugly and everything great about what life is supposed to be.

i just tried to spell out "since" and wrote "Science" instead. ugh.

since the semester finished a week or two earlier than the regular school's first semesters, i visited what i like to think of as my old high school once or twice before i had to come back for real. i remember sitting in the cafeteria during someone's (whoever i was following) spare, and watching the mouths of near-strangers move. everyone else seemed good friends with everyone else. someone asked me about the semester, and although i wanted to tell them everything about it, it was too hard and i didn't want to bother. talking about it did it no justice. i couldn't even attempt to put into words the impact it had on my life. it's something you have to be shown to know. i just said ".. good". i remember trying to remember everything that had happened in toronto because i didn't want to forget how it was. i wanted to relive the moments. i didn't want to spoil them by sharing with people who just wouldn't understand, who would laugh at the wrong places and think it was just about science.

• that we knew everything
• that together we could figure out the solution to any problem
• that we'd save the day
• that somehow it was meant to be
• that life was vivid and new, fresh and open

it took an acoustic guitar and a couple of maracas for me to remember how things used to be.

i want to surround myself with the ecclectic, the hopeful, the desperate, the creative, the brilliant, the caring, the nurturing, the cynical, the wise, the naive, the radical, the soulful, the angry, the spirited, the enthused, the passionate, the people i remember, the ones i miss the most.

i am the poster girl for birth order theory. everything that's ever been published regarding the "youngest-child syndrome" is expressed in my personality.

not only am i the youngest after three siblings, but i'm the only girl after three boys.
it'd be much different if i were a boy born after three girls. it's a strange mix of feeling like the only-child and the baby. will i forever feel like i have to prove myself to the world?

it's been said that i was only born because my dad, with no sisters, had always wanted a daughter. that three was an odd number, and my mom wanted all of us to have a friend. four kids would be a lot to handle, but since andrew was such a good baby they figured they'd be able to manage a fourth. even my birth ..

it's in seeing my peers moving on. even towards those who are going into first year, i feel it.

i'm the one who's leaving yet i feel like screaming for them to wait up. it's not that i'll be in a spot by myself, it's that i'm not the one who is going first. being left behind.

i want to be the one who's going first, further. i keep having the visual of all four of us sprinting to the neighbour's house when we missed the bus, way back when we still lived in carrying place. when we finally caught the bus, i would sit in the first available seat and cry. not because i was upset we missed the bus, and not because i was embarassed. not because i was tired or mad at the busdriver for not seeing us.

when we were running across the grassy field, my three brothers were out in front, and despite my best efforts to catch up, the distance between us would grow. i was always chasing their backs, lugging all my baggage along with me. they seemed to move so easily, but i was clumsy and slow, short and so much smaller. it was so hard to see once i started to cry, too hard to breathe, to keep from falling down. being left behind was the worst thing in the world. i just wanted to be able to look back and know there were people following me, watching me go as far as there was to go.

tonight i had a second dinner at tomasso's with victoria, dave c, kelsey, and jessica r.

vic is going back to the u.s. on wednesday, otherwise i most definately would have suddenly gotten too tired to go.it was alright. despite the fact that the three other people there were ones i rarely talked to, and that it was at tomasso's (aka black hole of mostly annoying spcss workers).

a lot of people i had forgotten i went to school with were there. it was almost shocking to see their faces ("they still exist?!"). high school doesn't seem that distant, but some individuals really seem so ridiculous and cartoonish that my brain refuses to believe they are real people.

she showed me pictures of her visit to north carolina and the trailer park chris p's family is setting up.

this summer feels like it was wasted. i realized that i've felt crappy pretty much the whole time. a general feeling of melancholy. i didn't earn any money, i didn't gain any real experiences. i didn't help pack up the house any more, all i did was finish the charts. i didn't get my pilot's licence, i still haven't even written that stupid thank you note i'd bought almost a year ago to mrs.mayhew yet.

being so blobbish makes me even more lazy. i wouldn't have even changed out my pyjamas or taken a shower if i didn't have to meet victoria tonight. i can see how anyone would want to be in my position, but that would be because they earned it. i on the other hand, never cease to amaze myself with the number of hours i can waste doing things i don't even remember doing afterward because they were such a waste of time.

and as i've been saying all this summer: ah well.i guess that's the problem. i have this feeling like i need to relax. i'm so stressed out. but the more i relax the more stressed i get. i guess i'm just confusing stress with restlessness.

i worry about julia sometimes.

she had posted a cryptic post and i wanted to know what it meant. it probably would have been easier to read her secret blog, but since it's a secret blog, i doubt i'll be able to find it. i feel strange putting so much effort into something like that anyway. so i looked at her other site, and i guess it's about missing her boyfriend.

i told her at camping how i felt, and she listened very well. and i suppose she can't help how she feels. but from where i'm standing, it just doesn't seem healthy.


but then there's the whole debate about journals being journals and some posts that are only there as outlets to vent through, and other ones being public messages..

i guess i'm just glad i told her what i thought, but i hope everything isn't as crazy as it seems to me sometimes.