And The World Keeps Turning (High Schools and Such)

I’m in a very rant-able mood right now. Studying for the science test and those Trig functions can wait. *turns If I Die Young louder* Alright.

This week and the following week are basically most of the high school open houses, and the High School Applications will be handed out next week. Well, I’ve got a problem. I don’t wanna go to high school. Reason? It’s like what some memes on the Internet say (or was it someone famous then the meme-maker: “I don’t want to go to heaven. None of my friends are there.” I do want to go to heaven, but you get my idea. None of my friends are going to the high school I’m going to. I sound like a snotty brat. I’m sorry. I apologize, I don’t usually do this. I’m usually as annoying as Spock would ever be.  I mean, the change is pretty big.  From this class of like, thirty people to this damn huge school. I do want to go to that school. I mean, I know what I want, and the high school is a part of it. But to think, in less than a day, from a group of normal, happy and slightly insane elementary/middle school (depends which country you live in) student to people who has to worry about their schools and their futures. I do think about all the big topics, but I’m just–you know what, I think there is a psychological term for it. Oh yeah. DENIAL.

I know everyone in the class is excited for their futures. But, I mean, can’t we just like, wait? To be the happy and carefree little kids again, not alone in this neighbourhood foreign to me with none of my friends there (thanks for leaving me with those idiots. No offence.), but huh, I guess I’ll have to snap back to Miervaldis or even Lemminkainen (…I’ll explain later. Or never) or something and be all logical and face this. I am not emotional about this, to be honest. IB is what I want, McGill’s what I want, also a large, quiet place facing the Gulf of Finland.

And I’m sure everyone else is having their wild, without-end dreams for their lives too.

Still, I wish there’s a uber important, or memorable thing before we graduate. Maybe the apocalypse, like the “Calamity” in the Hetalia fanfiction Gutters. Or the whole class could team together and defeat the titans trying to breach Wall Toronto (fine.) or something. Or we are actually timelords who can travel through time, or just freeze the time on one random day. I’m slightly crazy now, I know. Maybe in an alternate universe, we’re actually doing that. Or we’re immortal, and time is just a measuring scale for us. Then we can just sit on the roof and watch the apocalypse. No high school, no worries (Hakuna Matata indeed), no nothing. Just us and the whole big class.

Okay, I should probably shut up before someone decides to stick a rag in my mouth or cut my fingers off from annoying them or something. But at the end, let’s all raise our Nestea cans:

To our future.

To everything we’ve wanted.

To high schools and dreams.

To _____ ________. (Our School name)

To us.

 

You may drink  your Nestea now.

(Catherine, you may wack me on my head then drag me away now. This rant-box is all yours.)

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Break

  Heh. Hi, my name is Catherine. I think I was mentioned multiple times on this blog. I am here to give you poor souls a break from Jessica’s awful (just kidding don’t kill me Jezz) ranting. Somethimes I follow, and then she says something really complicated, and then I lose her completely. She is ranting right now how she doesn’t rant. Ironic.

Hi! I’m Vicky, but you can call me Victoria. Wait. Was that supposed to be the other way around?.. I definitely agree with Catering (Shhh! Don’t tell Jessie!). Ummm..I have no idea what to say now soo umm..back to Catherine!

  Please, welcome me back with thunderous applause. Yes, yes, I appreciate your devotion. I think I have some kind of complex with trimming/cutting bangs, because whenever I get my bangs trimmed/cut, then I get all sad and moody like I’m on my cycle or something of that sort. It confuses my emotionally repressed mother, I think (no, she’s not actually emotionally repressed. I just like to mock-insult people). A few weeks ago, my mom confessed that my mood swings that have to do with my bangs/hair confuse her and that I should stop as soon as possible. Not happening.

  And one more thing. Today, Jessica challenged me to name all of the Harry Potter books. I am obsessed with Harry Potter and its huge fandom. I’m not even going to deny it. But I am ashamed to admit that I could name every one except for the third book. It was like there was a bloody MEMORY BLANK there. I could remember practically every detail from the books except for the Prisoner of Azkaban. I feel so bad, because Sirius is one of my most favourite characters. So I wrote his name on my wrist because I was informed by an anonymous source that writing something in the inside of your wrist makes it incredibly important. Is that how you spell incredibly? I can’t remeber how to spell anything. Yeah.

  I’m sorry to say that your break is over. Welcome back Jessica however you want, be it applause or tomatoes (don’t waste them. Eat them instead, they are surprisingly tasty) or paint or grapes or socks (then she will be a free elf) or rocks (preferably ant-sized pebbles that aren’t aimed at her face). I think Vicky is very impatient and wants me to stop ranting. ‘But I don’t want them to get mad at ME, for ending the break!’ she says. “HEY”. Yeah, I don’t think I was supposed to say that. She’s making these strange gorilla/constipated/giving birth noises right now. And denying it agressively. She says ‘NO, just FINISH IT ALREADY.’

ENJOY YOUR LIFE AND HARRY POTTER. Yes, I’m done now. Gosh, don’t get your knickers in a twist.

My Goal in Life

Life goal:

One day, I’ll grow up and go to university and leave Toronto (don’t get me wrong, I like Toronto fine). I’ll go study at McGill. and major in Life Science. After I graduate for university, I’ll go to medical school. After that I’ll take up a residency, and/or a fellowship.After, I’ll get a job and try to accumulate a large amount of money–I am a financially destitute student and would like nice things .

Then maybe ten, fifteen years later, I will move to  a place where most people I know wouldn’t know that I’m there. They wouldn’t even think that I’m there. Maybe they think I’m a Megalopolis-Oriented person?Only my closest friends will know where I am. Tallinn, Estonia seems like a good place for that plan, although I’m always taking suggestions.

How might that play out? A flight from Toronto to Stockholm, then a ferry from Stockholm to Helsinki, then train from Helsinki to Tallinn would be fine (yes, I’m aware–thank you  Google–that there are ferries straight from Stockholm to Tallinn, but YOLO).

Then maybe I’ll travel through Europe. From Reykjavik to Santorini, and Lisbon to Istanbul. Why not? My friends could join us,then we’ll have a party at 2 a.m. on a remote Northern European island in the dead of winter or something.

Then I’ll go to the closest Arby’s, and buy five cats for five Deutsch marks.

(At this point I’m no longer certain that this plan is not serious.)