Okay. Compared to highschool, art college is fucking GREAT.

Let me tell you.

K so people want to get together after class today and whoever wants to come can come. So we ended up with like, 12 people? There were supposed to be 15. The other 3 never showed. Anyway. We ate cake, which we had to decorate first. We put all the pressure on one guy and so he drew Megatron in icing. LMFAO. Then we ate Megatron.

The girl who's house we were at, her house backs onto an elementary school, so we hopped the fence and sat in the field until the little turds came out for recess and I quote "you can't be here because it's private property." Too bad it's a public school. So they ratted on us and a teacher kicked us out. Then we made a flag for our illustration class but I can't remember what the name of it was. It had a sick unibrow guy though. Then we had a crowd of stoopid children at the fence asking us questions.

Okay but THEN, best part ever. We play like, this game thing where we have one theme and everyone had one minute to draw a piece of a picture for that theme. Then all the papers get passed around until eveyone has drawn on each one for one minute. We came up with the funniest shit that can never be explained in writing. Uh. Our topics were masked warrior people, flesh-eating mermaids and pants collectors. I was like. "Where have these people been all my life?!"

Okay but what sucks the most about college is I'm not even 18 yet (November). And then I'll have to wait another whole year before I can even go to the bar with people. (FUCK.) Ohwell. We should have a party with our whole first year class at someone's house or somewhere and THEN we can bring out the booze!

Yup. Highschool's a snakepit. It sucks. Sheridan illustration is the best thing ever. Best. Thing. Ever. EVER.

It's like the world is slowly spinning out of control.
And no matter how hard you put on the brakes,
It just keeps getting worse, and worse.
We're just along for the ride.

You know, I'm still reading that book on Rwanda.
Yes, I know, I'm slow, forgive me.
Anyhow.
I'll give you a quick run-down.
President of Rwanda dies in plane crash.
That same day, fighting starts that will continue for 100 days.
Within a couple weeks, almost every country and organization have pulled out their people.
Doctors, nurses, politicians, etc, mainly white people from first-world countries.
Then the U.N. pulls out at least half it's troops, leaving about 450 soldiers in Rwanda.
Those 450 are only allowed to protect expatriates.
Three months after the genocide (it went for 100 days), the U.N. starts to make a report about what happened.

So that leaves me with one question,
What was the U.N. doing between the time they pulled out troops and foreigners and the time they decided to make a report.
What were they doing that was clearly so important as to justify ignoring an ethnic cleansing.
I don't know, maybe I'm wrong.

Something is seriously wrong with the world,
When half the population of a country can be convinced that is it normal, humaine, and they're duty to kill another group.
So normal that it is compared to and replaced with farming.
It becomes a job.
Instead of cutting bananas, you cut people.





And on a completely unrelated note, I have been cleaning my room for 3 days and I am still not done. I've cleaned my desk, my closet, my headboard, some of the clothes off the floor. I still have to clean my dresser and bookshelf (which looks like the aftermath of several natural disasters) and dust my shelves because the stuff up has been there for years and has never been dusty. How very sanitary! Also my carpet is old, nasty, grimy, and I would absolutely love a new one or even better, hard-wood floors, however that isn't going to happen. Ewwww.

Guys I totally ripped the butt of my pants.
I was hopping a fence.
Damned chain link.

Also the pain in my head at the moment is killer.
And I also squashed three pennies
and a nickle on the train tracks today.
Mmhm.
Me and my bro's.

Srsly. Growing up? Not gonna happen.

Since I took World Issues during the last semester of highschool.
I have a habit now of looking at the "Made in _______" label on things.
EVERYTHING.
There was a shirt for $5.00 and it was made in Bangladesh.
And I was like, "You know, fuck that. This is bullshit."
You can't even buy the material the make a shirt for that price in Canada.
So instead of actually paying money, we're gonna force children and women to work shit hours for shit pay in shit conditions.
I don't know what's happening, eh.
The human race blows me away,
in what we can do to other people and actually justify it in our mind's.

Also I've gotten hooked on books about real people.
I've read a book about a lady in China during the one-child policy.
A Jewish man in Bergen-Belsen during the Holocaust.
A man who acted as Saddam Hussein's son's double.
Um yeah that's it.
But I'm reading one now about ten men who killed during the Rwandan genocide.
And another one about a lady in Afghanistan.

I'm like one of those kids who reads the encyclopedia.
Except that I read books about people.
Because I learn things.
But it's not the boring "this happened on this date and then..."
Right.
It's like real people and the shit they go through.
'Cause we never really see that stuff here in Canada.
The breakdown of basic human rights.

Basically I'm a dork.
I don't care. I f'ing love these.

Lawls partttyyyy.

So it was really nice today.
And I brought my guinea pig outside to eat grass.
Should have known better.
See, my old guinea pigs would just sit and eat, they wouldn't run off.
Well, Frida, the pig I have now, well.
She took off.
I never knew a piggy could run so fast.
She ran around a tree a couple times then across the driveway before I caught her.
LMFAO I was so scared I wouldn't be able to get her.

Note to self - next time I bring her out, bring the cage top with her..







Update, you MUST read my story. It was terrifying. I kid you not.

So I left work at 8:15 p.m. today, Saturday.
I'm crossing the road and there's this guy on the other side.
He asks me for a dollar for the bus.
I say "I don't have one, sorry."
I really didn't have one.
So he's all "Oh okay," and starts walking down the road with me.
I have no idea who he is and he's walking with me, talking about the weirdest things.
I'm pretty sure he was drunk or on drugs or something.
He had slurry speech.
So he tells me my hair looks like lion hair.
He asks me if I smoke.
He asks me if I want to get drunk with him.
If I wanted to have sex with him.
He tells me it's good that I don't smoke.
I'm pretty friggen creeped out, right.
I didn't let him come closer that 1 metre.
He says "How old are you, 16?"
I say "No, 17," because I didn't know what else to say. o_o
So he's all, "Hey you wanna go out with me in a year, we can have lot's of great sex!"
Heh, NO THANKS BUDDY.
He says we could make a Russian-Italian family. Omfg.
He asked me what school I went to.
He asked me where I lived, I just pointed in a general direction where my house was NOT.
K, so this whole time I'm so scared he's going to rape me.
Especialy when we pass the forest.
He could just like, pull me down the hill and no one would see. D:
We were walking down a busy road, so I felt safer.
But even still. Scary.
Then I wondered what I would do if he turned down the next road and followed me home. o_o
Haha, I decided I'd go into Shoppers Drug Mart and hopefully he wouldn't follow me.
So yeah, he keeps walking with me.
He tells me he's 28.
That his name was -mumblemumble- I don't know what he said.
But that people called him George.
That he used to go to the school I went to.
(OMFG I should look for him in the grad pictures from years ago!)
He asked me about the bus routes, I said I didn't know.
So he asked me what I knew.
Then out of the blue he says (mumbles) this: "I wanna blowjob.."
Exactly what he said.
I'm pretty sure if he fucking did ANYTHING other than keep walking a metre away from me I would have run so fast.
Tehe. Also he was a smoker and I wasn't, so I figured I could run longer.
BUT. Then I had to turn down a road and he kept going towards his bus stop. Thank goodness.
And I walked really, really fast all the way home.

Like...he was nice enough, I guess.
Chatty but really, really creepy and dirty.

Also, he's the same guy who said "Hey girl, what time is it?" to me a few months ago.
And who waved at me a few weeks ago.
And I'm fairly certain he might have been the guy who was tripping out in the phone booth and screaming.

Next time I see him I'll be all "Hey George."
See if he remembers me.
Or if he was just really friggen drunk.

o_o

Well. The end.