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.