I'm Not Going To School

Here is a flowchart, important segments in bold:
Two Assignments > Three Weeks > Boredom > Bitchiness > SI > Excessive Bleeding > Mess > Uncomfortable Conversations

• I'm not going to school. Why? BECAUSE I HATE IT.
• I'm not going to school. Why? Because I'M BORED.
• I'm not going to school. Why? Because I have grade nine math skills and am taking MCR3U.
• I'm not going to school. Why? Because I've been working on this assignment for three weeks and it's been done for just as long.
  
• I'm not going to school. Why? Because with great boredom comes great bitchiness.
• I'm not going to school. Why? Because I hate it when people touch me.
• I'm not going to school. Why? Because I don't fit it.
• I'm not going to school. Why? Because bleeding is a great way to cut through the boredom, which leads to the bitch.
• I'm not going to school. Why? Because as much as I like bleeding, I don't feel like taping layers of gauze to my wrists and sitting through the whole day like that.
• I'm not going to school. Why? Because the school is dirty and I don't have enough PRN's to go everyday.
• I'm not going to school. Why? Because PRN's aren't meant for everyday anyway!
  
• I'm not going to school. Why? Because I'd rather stay home and deal with my mother than spend the day THERE.

What Would (Imaginary) Larry Say?

WELL YOU KNOW WHAT I'D SAY TO THAT, JUST GET IT DONE. JUST GET YOUR FUCKIN' DIPLOMA AND GET TO UNIVERSITY, YOU'LL LOVE IT THERE.
High school is about more than an OSSD imaginary Larry, it's about growing up and being social and finding a niche. Anyways, fat lot of good that advice is, it's at least 1.5 years before I get to university! So I'm not about to spend 1.5 years going to a place I hate for six hours a day. What makes you so sure university is going to be my big break huh? Everyone thought Triangle School would be great, "Oh Kat, you'll be starting a new school and your academics will change..." "Kat at least you won't be a Ward" "Kat it's a school full of people like you!"

SO YOU'RE A BITCH.
What?! What?! That's not helpful! That's not even a question! Ugh. And yes, it matters if I'm a bitch! I don't want to be cruel to other people, especially not to their faces! I'll be to cruel to them in the privacy of my diary!

SEE AGAIN, I THINK YOU FEEL TOO MUCH OF A NEED TO PLEASE PEOPLE.
Oh my god, is this the exact same session as last week? Who knows!? There's a difference between needing to please people and not wanting to be cruel.

HOW C-
Yes! I'm small! HAHAHA. Small people have full sized emotions! Just because I'm a lovely young woman here doesn't mean I'm incapable of being a bitch! Are you going to keep asking me stupid questions or actually help me out with this?

I DON'T THINK YOU'RE BEING A BITCH.
How do you know? Were you there? Are you social worker to some of the people whose feelings I hurt? Are you actually a skinny black woman who was guest teaching the class? If you were, did you not notice the way I made faces and slammed my skull into the desk whenever you introduced a new activity?

SO WHAT?
Can you ignore what I'm saying even more? Is that possible? Being a bitch generally doesn't mean being nice to other people! And it's not a great feeling either! God, I was so mad-

"GOD" NOW HUH? HAHAAAA-
Shuttup.

SEE NOW YOU'RE BEING A BITCH.
Very funny imaginary Larry. What were we talking about?

YOU WERE SO MAD.
Stop laughing. Stop!

I CAN'T IMAGINE YOU MAD. YOU'RE FEISTY THIS SESSION.
Feisty? What, because I'm a small asian woman I don't get mad I'm just feisty? Do I have spunk? Ugh. I was mad, I was really mad for no reason! I was incredibly bored and then incredibly angry and I took it out on other people and that doesn't feel good.

YOU DON'T NEED TO FEEL GOOD ALL THE TIME.
I didn't say all the time, I said I didn't feel good at that moment. Do normies feel good when they take out their anger on other people?

YOU'RE NORMAL.
Uh huh, that's why I'm here talking to you.

YOU ARE NORMAL, THIS IS WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT, I DON'T WANT YOU TO BECOME A PROFESSIONAL PATIENT.
I'm not becoming a professional patient, I'm becoming a professional. Difference, hello? If I was becoming a professional patient, I would have new symptoms everyday. But I don't. I read about new symptoms almost everyday, but you don't see me thinking I have DID or a pneumothorax or leukemia when there are people arguing in my head or I have trouble breathing or a collection of bruises for no reason.

...wow that pretend session really pissed me off. Anyway, that's what I'm Not Going To School.

Things I'm Grateful For

Yes, I'm actually doing this. I've been thinking about it a lot lately, so I might as well write it down.

1. Big Bunny
2. Speedy
3. Lolo
4. Lola
5. Pauline
6. Christine
7. Nelson
8. Valerie
9. Vanessa
10. Michelle S.
    
11. Never having to shave my legs
12. Only getting my period every three months (even though I know that will backfire on me later)
13. Having a slight natural curl in my hair
14. My supersonic metabolism
15. Slender fingers, even though I have to get all my rings custom sized
16. Coupons
17. Sales
    
18. Sales where you get a discount off last ticketed price
19. Juice from concentrate
20. My job
21. Living in Canada
    

Signs The TTC Wishes They Had

"CHEW WITH YOUR MOUTH CLOSED"

"ON YOUR CELL? SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

"KEEP YOUR BODY AND YOUR SHIT TO YOUR OWN SEAT"

"BUTT THE LINE AND DIE"

"YOU WANNA TURN YOUR MUSIC DOWN LOSER?"

"BLOCK THE DOORS AND YOU CAN GET THE FUCK OFF THIS VEHICLE"

"NO, I DON'T WANT TO HEAR YOUR LIFE STORY"

"UNWARRENTED FLIRTING IS FORBIDDEN UNDER TTC BYLAW 1: JACKASS PROHIBITION"

More to come!

My Lola and Lolo 'n Me

This is my Lola.


This is my Lolo.


This is me.


We three have 18 years of history. There are so many things I'll never forget, like Lola's magical roll of umbrella stickers. There were so many umbrella stickers it was like a sticker wonderland. I remember them exactly, tiny umbrellas with a rainbow design and an iridescent layer on top.

Soon after I saw the Forgetful Allergist, I checked the back of a CRUNCH bar and declared I couldn't eat it anymore, because it is Made on Equipment That Also Processes Peanuts/Nuts. Today I ate the first CRUNCH bar I've had in years, and boy I miss when chocolate bars had two wrappers. I forgot to try to eat around the letters though.

Lolo and I used to play so many games. I of course preferred Ice Cream land or whatever, because I really, really like ice cream. But Lolo liked to put together puzzles on top of giant pieces of cardboard we'd slide under the couch for safekeeping. We also played Wheel of Fortune, because to this day they still watch Wheel of Fortune followed by Jeopardy every weekday. (Channel 8, 7-8pm.) Man I suck at Wheel of Fortune, but Lola always figures it out first! And then we all gripe about how stupid the categories are. "Thing," honestly. That was one of them, the category was thing at the word was Honesty. Okay it's a THING, but it's not a tangible THING. God.

Once not long after they moved to the Moorehouse House Lola gave me this magnicent Polly Pocket mansion. I still play with it, even though I'm 18 and they don't even make Polly Pocket's the size anymore. They're not POCKETsized, they're like purse sized Polly's. And their names aren't even Polly. Anyways, it's on my shelf.

I remember when they lived in the Blue House, everytime Lolo and I got in the elevator he would tell everyone that I was his granddaughter and really smart. And when we used to go to the factory, all the Filipino ladies would look over and go, "TINAAAAAAAAAAAAAA" and start gabbering away about how tall I was (lies), how pretty I was (truth!), how cool it was that I used to hang out at the factory...(kinda). I liked walking down to the "river" which was really a useless sewer drain that was dry half the time. And climbing up into the boxes and ditching my shoes somewhere and running away or poking at the giant fish tank. Lolo used to take me into the secret room where he mixed the secret recipe, and we'd both put on a lab coat and I'd adjust my hairnet, which was always falling out of place, and I'd hop up onto the chair and point at everything and ask a million questions. Or he'd go into the walk-in freezer to get/put in stuff, and I'd stand at the door faithfully because I was terrified he'd get stuck inside.

OH MY GOSH! At The House, the laundry/bathroom/pantry/darkroom is in the basement right? I used to tiptoe very carefully downstairs and yell BOO! behind Lola and she'd jump and swear in Tagalog and I would giggle for like, half an hour. Then while she was doing the laundry I would slip in between the wall and the water tank and poke around the pantry, staring at the wonders of diced/sliced/crushed pineapple and jars of nails.

And every night I slept over at The House, (last time was in early August this year) I'd listen very carefully through the wall to hear Lolo's snoring and Lola's litany/rosary, then sneak downstairs for more lemonade.

There's a lot more, but I want to go downstairs now. Bye!