So, its sad to say... but I am moving my journal. I'm hoping this way I'll get more comments as my friends without a LJ can comment. If you click on the title of this entry, off you will go to my new home. Feel free to follow me there!
Later Folks!
Feb 11, 2010
Feb 1, 2010
I Hate Residence.
So I'm trying to watch 18 to Life on CBC. That fails. Apparently Residence has it set up so that the channels switch around during the day. This morning our channel 6 was CBC Kids. This afternoon it was the CBC that my show would be on - the regular CBC. Now all of a sudden its CBC News. That means I can't watch my show. Residence TV sucks.
I try, I fail.
So here is what has happened over the last few days of attempts with makeup.
Attempt 1
Attepmt 3
Attempt 1
Attempt 2
Attepmt 3
Attempt 4
This last one is for you Linette!
Jan 30, 2010
Make-up.
My Mom came to see me today and we spent the day out galivanting around and having fun. She doesn't usually get days off so today was kind of special to me in the fact that she would want to come all the way out here to spend a few hours with me having breakfast and shopping.
So we got to Erin Mills Town Center and the purpose was to find me a new, more stylish, and more manigable purse and wallet along with a new belt. We were in the middle of this beautiful up scale mall and where would you find us shopping?
Zellers.
That's right people, my Mother and I are cheep.
We eventually found what we were looking for and, having a few hours left to do stuff, we decided it was time for me to grow up. I AM NOT A GIRLY-GIRL! Being in the direction of business and Interior Design, I knew for a while now that I would eventually have to give in to the horror that is face paint. For all of those who might read this and know me, I hate make-up.
And so off we went to the Bay to see if I could find someone who would let me in on the little secrets of putting on a woman's face.
We found this one lady and she helped me learn how to apply all that aweful goop and powder to my face in a way that would be easy and would suit me. However, she was a right bitch when she found out that we weren't buying and that I was just learning the trade. In spite of her we left and headed back to Zellers.
I walked up and down the isles staring at all the choices lost and confused in a sea of colour that I knew I would have to somehow put on my face. Eventually I asked one of the women working there who helped me pick out my beginner's essentials. I apparently have wonderful skin that saves me from covering it with the snot-like substance they apparently call foundation and concieler. Thank which ever god or goddess for that. The lady pointed me in the direction of some sensitive skin blushes and eye shadows. Having them now picked out I was free to choose lip gloss, mascara, a new big fluffy brush, make-up remover, and some crazy facial mosturizer my Mother picked for me.
So. Now I'm sitting here... Make-up spread out in front of me...
I AM SCARED AS HELL!
How do I use all this?
So we got to Erin Mills Town Center and the purpose was to find me a new, more stylish, and more manigable purse and wallet along with a new belt. We were in the middle of this beautiful up scale mall and where would you find us shopping?
Zellers.
That's right people, my Mother and I are cheep.
We eventually found what we were looking for and, having a few hours left to do stuff, we decided it was time for me to grow up. I AM NOT A GIRLY-GIRL! Being in the direction of business and Interior Design, I knew for a while now that I would eventually have to give in to the horror that is face paint. For all of those who might read this and know me, I hate make-up.
And so off we went to the Bay to see if I could find someone who would let me in on the little secrets of putting on a woman's face.
We found this one lady and she helped me learn how to apply all that aweful goop and powder to my face in a way that would be easy and would suit me. However, she was a right bitch when she found out that we weren't buying and that I was just learning the trade. In spite of her we left and headed back to Zellers.
I walked up and down the isles staring at all the choices lost and confused in a sea of colour that I knew I would have to somehow put on my face. Eventually I asked one of the women working there who helped me pick out my beginner's essentials. I apparently have wonderful skin that saves me from covering it with the snot-like substance they apparently call foundation and concieler. Thank which ever god or goddess for that. The lady pointed me in the direction of some sensitive skin blushes and eye shadows. Having them now picked out I was free to choose lip gloss, mascara, a new big fluffy brush, make-up remover, and some crazy facial mosturizer my Mother picked for me.
So. Now I'm sitting here... Make-up spread out in front of me...
I AM SCARED AS HELL!
How do I use all this?
Jan 27, 2010
Philosophical Moments
I went on a little trip today. For the first time in apparently a very long time, King Tut is back at the AGO in Toronto. GUESS WHERE I WENT! WAY TOO COOL AND SO EXCITING!
However thats not the point of this post.
What is incredibly important about the AGO today, however, is the bus ride home. We were bumper to bumper on the Lakeshore. The traffic on the other side of the road going into the city moving swiftly and steadily. I over heard one of my classmates a couple seats behind me say "too bad we couldnt be on that side of the road". I had to laugh.
The first thought that went through my mind was:
The traffic isnt always faster on the other side of the median.
Isn't it funny how philosophical life can be? Or how much society has changed?
Think about this:
Once upon a time, when the ground was green and the sky was blue, we were so worried about having the better fields, the greener grass, and the fatter animals. We would bawlk over how grungy the meadows looked in comparison to our neighbor's.
But that was once upon a time.
So, in the not so distant past (more the present really), when the grounds were covered by black and the sky was a dingy grey blocked our by towering masses of metal and concrete, we were worried about getting from point A to point B faster than our neighbor. We yell and scream and carry on when the vehicle in front of us doesn't budge, or when the person beside us tries to get in front of us to take the place of the one not moving.
I think that we need to step back here for a minute and think about this.
Steffy
However thats not the point of this post.
What is incredibly important about the AGO today, however, is the bus ride home. We were bumper to bumper on the Lakeshore. The traffic on the other side of the road going into the city moving swiftly and steadily. I over heard one of my classmates a couple seats behind me say "too bad we couldnt be on that side of the road". I had to laugh.
The first thought that went through my mind was:
The traffic isnt always faster on the other side of the median.
Isn't it funny how philosophical life can be? Or how much society has changed?
Think about this:
Once upon a time, when the ground was green and the sky was blue, we were so worried about having the better fields, the greener grass, and the fatter animals. We would bawlk over how grungy the meadows looked in comparison to our neighbor's.
But that was once upon a time.
So, in the not so distant past (more the present really), when the grounds were covered by black and the sky was a dingy grey blocked our by towering masses of metal and concrete, we were worried about getting from point A to point B faster than our neighbor. We yell and scream and carry on when the vehicle in front of us doesn't budge, or when the person beside us tries to get in front of us to take the place of the one not moving.
I think that we need to step back here for a minute and think about this.
Steffy
Jan 26, 2010
Life Man... Life.
Dear whomever is interested in listening to me,
My boy has been telling me for the better part of a year to start keeping a journal. Is it sad that what has brought me to this point was not him but a movie? Julie & Julia has taught me a lesson: who cares what people think, in order to be in the right place at the right time you have to get up off your ass and be in the right place at the right time!
So. Here is the master plan. I am going on a trip. Not now, but this summer. A Pilgrimage if you will. I have come to the conclusion that I am sick of taking shit from people just so that they will like me; it is time for me to learn who I am! This could be tricky though... I live just outside of Toronto is a dinky little hick town called Brown Hill. Not much goes on there. I'm pretty sure the last big thing to happen there was the epic 3 or 5 day black out that happened all over Canada in what was it.... 2004? And before that was probably when Joanne Cash (Johnny Cash's youngest sister for those of you how don't recognize the name...) sang in the house behind us before it burnt to the ground and long before it was a house, but when it was a church and the house beside us was a hotel and the path through the park housed a train station and rail road.
I call that home.
In this home of sorts I am the person everyone wants me to be (or so I try to be). I do as I'm told and try to be game for whatever anyone else wants to do/thinks/feels/whatever. I am the person who usually tells them what they want to hear, when they want to hear it in hopes that they might like me.
Obviously my childhood sucked.
I moved form Mississauga area to Richmond Hill well into my first year of Kindergarten and I'm almost sure now that this is when my problems first started. I only attended the last few months of JK and so by that time (as all little kids have an instinct for survival and so they form 'clans' and go native on us...) the rest of my class had already chosen their friends and I was classed as the outsider.
In order to understand my Kindy-years you have to get used to the idea that I was not a social child in Mississauga. I played most of the time with my brother, my aunt, my uncle, my parents, and this one particular boy whom I believe live just down the hall. To be totally honest if it wasn't for my parents friendship with the boy's parents, I probably wouldn't have played with him either. Oh, and I almost forgot, there was the boy and girl that were the product of the couple my parents met on their honeymoon flight.
So my Kindy-Years. I was the outsider that arrived later. The late comer. The slow one. As children often do to outsiders, I was sorely punished by my peers for this travesty. I remember one particular instance where I, Sailor Venus, was pushed aside to become the bad guys because Christina O came along (Miss. Popular herself in the Kindy Class) and decided she was to be Sailor Venus as she was her favorite. I was told that if I was really good and did as I was told that I MIGHT be accepted back as Sailor Mercury as the position hadn't been filled yet.
and so it begun.
It was this kind of thing that set me up for my Primary days of grade 1 to 3. At this point I was to become "The Crybaby". To this day I can honestly say that most of my peers from this point in my life still don't know my name but would recognize me if I were to go by the oh so beloved pet name the simplistic minds of our 6 and year-old selves had given me. I learned that if I did as I was told I would have friends to play with at recess. I was so excited for my very first true friend: Laura. Although she would decide that we were to go to her house after school and we were to play and do what she wanted, I didn't mind. I had a friend. I had someone who would talk to me and support me and stand up for me when called names. Then Michelle and John and Jj (at the time Sierra)entered my life. Three more friends!
Those were the days...
Unfortunately for me, I was about to go back to Kindergarten. Nearing the end of grade 3 my parents decided it was time to move. They now had enough money to buy and own their own house; the family home they always dreamed of. So it because that I was moved out to the odd little world I now call 'home'.
Grade 4 was a bitch.
As I said, I was about to get the boot back to my Kindy-Years. Having left Laura, Jj, John, and Michelle (to be called the Crosby Crew from here on in as that was the school we all originated from) I packed up my things and entered the hell that was Mount Albert. I had decided that this time things were going to be different. I was going to get to be myself, be strong and sure of myself, and not the Crybaby as I was at Crosby.
The first day sucked.
I remember getting there and feeling so ready, so confident. Mistake number one: I dressed up for the first day of classes; they don't do that in the country. Ok, so I took it; I put on a strong face, walked into that classroom, to the seat I was assigned, and said Hi to the boy sitting beside me. Tyler Pierson. I had just started talking to Doom in male grade 4 form. One of the most popular kids in our year. Needless to say, he didn't like my dress. So having screwed myself over I moved on to finding myself some friends.
Do you remember watching Recess? Maybe the Weekenders? Have you ever noticed that the 'popular' crowd, or the crowd that has the most fun, is made up of no more than maybe 7 people?
More grade-4-at-a-new-school logic. So what did I do? At recess I marched up to the group of 5 standing in the middle of the field and said Hi. They didn't like my dress either. And so it was, believing that they were the cool kids at the school, I did as I was told until they accepted me.
Most of this group stuck together until grade 8 graduation night. When we entered high school it didn't exist anymore.
I was a drifter in High school. I went from group to group, doing as I was told, in hopes that one of them might pick me up as a friend. It was at this point that i met my Matt. High school was a living hell. More so than my Elementary good times. I don't even wanna get into it.
Point is: I'm now in college. I'm starting to learn who my real friends are, and I can honestly say I'm getting sick of doing as I'm told. Shit is happening between me, the Crosby crew, my few high school friends, and the people here at College. Did I mention I'm staying in residence? Add a shitty roommate into the mix.
So. How do I be in the right place at the right time?
1) Leave my shitty roommate for one that I can get along with, supports me, and maybe even appreciates me a little.
Check.
2) Figure out why in hells name the Crosby crew is breaking apart and if it is worth fixing.
3) Figure out who my real friends are and who just doesn't give a rats ass one way or the other.
4) FIGURE OUT WHO I REALLY AM! (this is the most important step... I need to get my head on straight and stop doing what I'm told just so I have someone to talk to.)
5) Take who I really am on a trip. Learn something new. Explore the possibilities of my rebirth, so to speak.
6) Come back a new person =D
So, Whomever is interested in listening to me, give me an idea - a point in the right direction. Where in Canada's green country side should I go?
Whoever you are, I look forward to your ideas!
Steffy.
My boy has been telling me for the better part of a year to start keeping a journal. Is it sad that what has brought me to this point was not him but a movie? Julie & Julia has taught me a lesson: who cares what people think, in order to be in the right place at the right time you have to get up off your ass and be in the right place at the right time!
So. Here is the master plan. I am going on a trip. Not now, but this summer. A Pilgrimage if you will. I have come to the conclusion that I am sick of taking shit from people just so that they will like me; it is time for me to learn who I am! This could be tricky though... I live just outside of Toronto is a dinky little hick town called Brown Hill. Not much goes on there. I'm pretty sure the last big thing to happen there was the epic 3 or 5 day black out that happened all over Canada in what was it.... 2004? And before that was probably when Joanne Cash (Johnny Cash's youngest sister for those of you how don't recognize the name...) sang in the house behind us before it burnt to the ground and long before it was a house, but when it was a church and the house beside us was a hotel and the path through the park housed a train station and rail road.
I call that home.
In this home of sorts I am the person everyone wants me to be (or so I try to be). I do as I'm told and try to be game for whatever anyone else wants to do/thinks/feels/whatever. I am the person who usually tells them what they want to hear, when they want to hear it in hopes that they might like me.
Obviously my childhood sucked.
I moved form Mississauga area to Richmond Hill well into my first year of Kindergarten and I'm almost sure now that this is when my problems first started. I only attended the last few months of JK and so by that time (as all little kids have an instinct for survival and so they form 'clans' and go native on us...) the rest of my class had already chosen their friends and I was classed as the outsider.
In order to understand my Kindy-years you have to get used to the idea that I was not a social child in Mississauga. I played most of the time with my brother, my aunt, my uncle, my parents, and this one particular boy whom I believe live just down the hall. To be totally honest if it wasn't for my parents friendship with the boy's parents, I probably wouldn't have played with him either. Oh, and I almost forgot, there was the boy and girl that were the product of the couple my parents met on their honeymoon flight.
So my Kindy-Years. I was the outsider that arrived later. The late comer. The slow one. As children often do to outsiders, I was sorely punished by my peers for this travesty. I remember one particular instance where I, Sailor Venus, was pushed aside to become the bad guys because Christina O came along (Miss. Popular herself in the Kindy Class) and decided she was to be Sailor Venus as she was her favorite. I was told that if I was really good and did as I was told that I MIGHT be accepted back as Sailor Mercury as the position hadn't been filled yet.
and so it begun.
It was this kind of thing that set me up for my Primary days of grade 1 to 3. At this point I was to become "The Crybaby". To this day I can honestly say that most of my peers from this point in my life still don't know my name but would recognize me if I were to go by the oh so beloved pet name the simplistic minds of our 6 and year-old selves had given me. I learned that if I did as I was told I would have friends to play with at recess. I was so excited for my very first true friend: Laura. Although she would decide that we were to go to her house after school and we were to play and do what she wanted, I didn't mind. I had a friend. I had someone who would talk to me and support me and stand up for me when called names. Then Michelle and John and Jj (at the time Sierra)entered my life. Three more friends!
Those were the days...
Unfortunately for me, I was about to go back to Kindergarten. Nearing the end of grade 3 my parents decided it was time to move. They now had enough money to buy and own their own house; the family home they always dreamed of. So it because that I was moved out to the odd little world I now call 'home'.
Grade 4 was a bitch.
As I said, I was about to get the boot back to my Kindy-Years. Having left Laura, Jj, John, and Michelle (to be called the Crosby Crew from here on in as that was the school we all originated from) I packed up my things and entered the hell that was Mount Albert. I had decided that this time things were going to be different. I was going to get to be myself, be strong and sure of myself, and not the Crybaby as I was at Crosby.
The first day sucked.
I remember getting there and feeling so ready, so confident. Mistake number one: I dressed up for the first day of classes; they don't do that in the country. Ok, so I took it; I put on a strong face, walked into that classroom, to the seat I was assigned, and said Hi to the boy sitting beside me. Tyler Pierson. I had just started talking to Doom in male grade 4 form. One of the most popular kids in our year. Needless to say, he didn't like my dress. So having screwed myself over I moved on to finding myself some friends.
Do you remember watching Recess? Maybe the Weekenders? Have you ever noticed that the 'popular' crowd, or the crowd that has the most fun, is made up of no more than maybe 7 people?
More grade-4-at-a-new-school logic. So what did I do? At recess I marched up to the group of 5 standing in the middle of the field and said Hi. They didn't like my dress either. And so it was, believing that they were the cool kids at the school, I did as I was told until they accepted me.
Most of this group stuck together until grade 8 graduation night. When we entered high school it didn't exist anymore.
I was a drifter in High school. I went from group to group, doing as I was told, in hopes that one of them might pick me up as a friend. It was at this point that i met my Matt. High school was a living hell. More so than my Elementary good times. I don't even wanna get into it.
Point is: I'm now in college. I'm starting to learn who my real friends are, and I can honestly say I'm getting sick of doing as I'm told. Shit is happening between me, the Crosby crew, my few high school friends, and the people here at College. Did I mention I'm staying in residence? Add a shitty roommate into the mix.
So. How do I be in the right place at the right time?
1) Leave my shitty roommate for one that I can get along with, supports me, and maybe even appreciates me a little.
Check.
2) Figure out why in hells name the Crosby crew is breaking apart and if it is worth fixing.
3) Figure out who my real friends are and who just doesn't give a rats ass one way or the other.
4) FIGURE OUT WHO I REALLY AM! (this is the most important step... I need to get my head on straight and stop doing what I'm told just so I have someone to talk to.)
5) Take who I really am on a trip. Learn something new. Explore the possibilities of my rebirth, so to speak.
6) Come back a new person =D
So, Whomever is interested in listening to me, give me an idea - a point in the right direction. Where in Canada's green country side should I go?
Whoever you are, I look forward to your ideas!
Steffy.
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