Hey look, another posts in only a few day :O I know you're all in shock and awe. I take no responsibility for the outcomes of your shock. Just saying.
I'm kinda tired, which means I'm slightly cynical. I'm gonna try my best to be super positive - or at least positive. Even then apparently I'm good at faking it. For example today I was super nauseous at work, and when my manager finally saw me (I work in a drive-thru) she asked what was wrong, I told her, and she asked if I could last another forty-five minutes (I was off then) and I said "Sure I've been lasting for six hours and fifteen minutes now" and she was shocked cause I sounded so upbeat on the headset (I thought I had sounded dead and in pain, but maybe that's just cause that was how I felt)
Anyway, back to where we were.
I had become a "Christian" (heavy sarcastic quotations) to make some little old lady happy. How utterly like me. Anyways, it wasn't really a heart changing commitment. My life went on as normal. I'm pretty sure I went home and watched a Harry Potter movie that day. Or soon after. I hardly read my Bible (in fact I found it kinda boring and would want to fall asleep). School started up again. Grade 8, first year of High School in that town so I was now in School 10. If I may - it was the worst year of school EVER.
See I was used to being the new kid. And the strange quiet new kid at that. Until now I had been okay at making friends. Not a master of it. In fact usually I changed how I acted to make friends. But at that school I was a fresh water fish in the salty salty ocean. It didn't help either, that my mom pulled me out of school for a month to go visit her in Ontario (she had moved away from Alberta to go live with live-in-Internet-boyfriend#3 Bryce) which was just like living with her all over again. But I come back to school, almost failed the first semester of grade 8 (not unusual but my mom was super angry that I almost failed. My fault of course). Right sorry, I promised not to be cynical.
In order to save time I'll sum up grade 8. I didn't really make a friend until after Christmas. I spent every lunch hour in the library (you could eat there as long as you didn't take your food to the books or the books to a table with food and if the food didn't smell bad) and I read a lot of books. We lived just out of town in an old house with no neighbours, no cable and no computer. I watched a lot of movies or we rented a TV series season from the video store. A girl spat in my hair once and put gum in my hair twice. She made fun of me for pretty much everything. It was too the point I was ready to go to a different school. Only there was no other school to go to. I think she was kicked out for the rest of the year. And then suddenly all of her friends were super nice to me and hating her. Honestly I don't think I will ever understand that. Grade eight was when I really developed a love for writing. In grade seven I had started writing, but grade eight was when it really took off in my mind.
The church I went to was really fun. It was a Pentecostal church - so different from the Mennonite church we went to with my Oma (grandma) and even different from the Catholic church I went to in Ontario. I loved it, but I didn't grow much. Not that it was that churches fault. They tried to help me, they really did. But I didn't really trust people, and I was super shy (or maybe nervous and hesitant is a better description) I did change slightly I'm sure but looking back I can't say how much. I remember trying to be this good Christian girl that was expected of me, and trying to fit that into my desire to have magic. I knew I couldn't have magic now, it was a big 'no-no' in the Bible, but I still wanted it in some way. I tried to write stories where the main character used to be a witch but now wasn't allowed to use magic. Or things like that. I'm sure some of my leaders at church weren't too thrilled whenever I told them of my stories. Like I said, they were trying to help me. They really were. I just wasn't open to it.
It was an awesome church though. I cried when we left it to move here. Back were I was born actually. My dad had a job offer with his brother in construction. We left pretty much as soon as my grade 8 exams were over.
We berried my Grandma (not Oma) that year. She had died when I was twelve and was cremated but my Grandpa couldn't (or wouldn't I don't know) barry her until then. I was registered to go to the nearest public high school (in this town high school started in grade 9 so I was starting my first year of high school for a second time) as our town has five public high schools, a traditional school (elementary, middle and high) a Catholic schools (elementary, middle, and high) and a Mennonite school (E, M, H as well). Anyway I was registered for one of the public schools but I really wanted to go tot the Mennonite school. The only problem was it was too expensive for a single father with a construction job to pay for. However at my Grandma's funeral one of my great-aunts, upon learning where I wanted to go offered to pay for me to go to the school I wanted. So I was removed from one school and put into the Mennonite one (this was all before the school year started though so it's all good)
We had also tried to find a church here. First we went to the Pentecostal church but I didn't like it. So instead of trying church after church we just went back to my Oma's Mennonite church. Which I had always thought was boring, and my view of it hadn't really changed much.
Such is life I guess.
I hope I wasn't too cynical for you today. But we are now in my favourite parts of life now. Cause from grade nine on, life has been pretty good.
Hollie.
Jun 27, 2011
Jun 23, 2011
No Boyfriend Nessissary
Hehe, so it's been a while since I've posted yes. I've been busy. Out of town, went to the states, my mom is living at my house. That would be the main reason I haven't been as faithful to my blogging as I should, I can't seem to get to the computer as often as I would like. But I am here now, posting now and fingers crossed I'll be posting again soon. -> Who knew what a commitment this would be. Seriously who needs a boyfriend, blogging takes up enough of my time ;)
It's funny but right now I kind of want to jump ahead and say all the amazing things that are going on in my life right now instead of jumping into the past. I said I wouldn't and I won't really - much. By the end of this I will be back on track, I promise. But then again, I can't really say what is going on right now because I haven't gotten to the beginning of what it was. Is. The beginning of what it is. Kinda frustrating I must say. So, I won't be staying in now, I'm sorry. Please buckle your seat belts as we once again jump into the past. I promise the better stuff is coming.
So I left off, in case you were wondering and even if you weren't, with me leaving to go visit my grandparents and my dad in the summer between grades five and six. So the original plan was spend a week with Grandma and Grandpa, spend a week with my Dad, go home. Plans changed. I started off a week with my daddy. That was fun I'm sure. I always had good times with my Dad. He wasn't one to yell or scream. And then I spent a week with my grandparents in Alberta.
It was supposed to be one week. But as any ten almost eleven year-old would do, I talked. I talked and I talked and I talked. And when on the phone with my mom, my grandma heard other things about how life with mom and Dean really was and it was decided. It was decided that I would be staying in Alberta and not going back to Ontario. Grandma and Grandpa gave Mom an option, either she came to Alberta, without Dean, or she wouldn't get to see me again. And for the first time in, well, in pretty much my entire life it seemed, she picked me over Dean. But she couldn't get out to Alberta. So, my Grandma and Grandpa decided they would go get her in October.
I started grade 6 in Alberta, which means I also started School 7. Until my mom came I lived with my Cousin Karen, her boyfriend, and every other week her boyfriend's two boys. I would live with them except for on Wednesday nights and weekends when I would stay at my grandparents so I could call my mom. I lived with Karen and family because they were closer to School 7. That was were I met Rachel. Rachel became my best friend.
Rachel believed in ghosts. I didn't. But she did so I did. And then eventually, of course I believed in ghosts. Why wouldn't I? But not only did Rachel and I believe we could see ghosts but we believed we could talk to them, communicate with them and fight them. Because most of these ghosts were evil and were trying to kill us, we decided. Again looking back I'm not sure if this was just some game for her (like my friends in grade 5 pretending we were going to a Canadian version of Hogwarts) or not, but I really believed it was real. And if you think of it, just substitute ghost for spirits (as I'm sure I would have eventually) and voila! I was heading down a New Age path.
It made sense to me. To live in this world of ghosts that I could kill (kill a ghost... the eleven/twelve year old me didn't quite realize you can't kill the dead or unliving but still....) cause I did have an imagination and fantasy was so much better then reality. During grade 6 Mom's second live-in-Internet boyfriend Aaron came and went. And things with him there were bad, and things with him gone were bad. With this baby step New Age stuff I was free to do whatever.
At the end of grade 6 I moved schools again. But this time because I had finished elementary school and was now in middle school. So I started grade 7 and School 8. I stopped talking with Rachel because we went to different schools now - and my mom decided she didn't like Rachel. In grade 7 it wasn't as bad as I was told it would be. I had a group of friends pretty much right away and what a strange bunch we were. I think there was five of us girls who all believed in ghosts and we believed our schools girl locker room was haunted and we were going to get to the bottom of it. We would say little "prayer" like spells before going in because it would protect us and such.
So I decided I would become a witch. A real one mind, not some fake Harry Potter wannabe. But a real witch. So one night I managed to wrestle the computer away from my mom (she was in bed) and I googled (yay for google!!!!) "How to be a witch" No really I did. I found one sight that sounded legit to my twelve year old mind (cause you know you know everything at the age of twelve). The only problem being was that it would cost $60 a month. I was twelve. I didn't have $60 period let alone enough money to pay $60 every month. And I was too much of a goody-goody and to scared to set up a fake account. So that ended my outwards searching to become a witch. But I'm sure, if I had stayed in Alberta I would have eventually succeeded.
I did not finish grad 7 in School 8. In February of that year my Dad, who lived a short Greyhound bus trip away invited me up for a visit over a long weekend. I said sure (anything to get away from home) and while I was there I begged him not to make me go home. So he didn't. He even told my mom because I was to afraid to tell her. She was extremely displeased. That's putting it lightly. If putting it lightly is like saying the sun is slightly toasty.
So started School 9. People there didn't believe in ghosts or spirits or saying spells to protect you. Or at least none that I knew of. So I stopped - but again it was more outward then inward. I truly truly was a people pleaser. And then in the summer between grade 7 and 8 (oh School 9 was an elementary school that only went to grade 7) something very random happened. I remembered going to Sunday School as a kid with my Dad and going to church with Carol in Ontario.
I wanted to go to church.
I told my dad as such and so we went to church, the Sunday before my 13th birthday. I ended up sitting next to this little old lady. And because I knew it would make her happy, like I said I was a people pleaser to the core, at the end of the service I responded to the alter call. Ta-da. Christian.
Dysfunctional or what?
Hollie.
It's funny but right now I kind of want to jump ahead and say all the amazing things that are going on in my life right now instead of jumping into the past. I said I wouldn't and I won't really - much. By the end of this I will be back on track, I promise. But then again, I can't really say what is going on right now because I haven't gotten to the beginning of what it was. Is. The beginning of what it is. Kinda frustrating I must say. So, I won't be staying in now, I'm sorry. Please buckle your seat belts as we once again jump into the past. I promise the better stuff is coming.
So I left off, in case you were wondering and even if you weren't, with me leaving to go visit my grandparents and my dad in the summer between grades five and six. So the original plan was spend a week with Grandma and Grandpa, spend a week with my Dad, go home. Plans changed. I started off a week with my daddy. That was fun I'm sure. I always had good times with my Dad. He wasn't one to yell or scream. And then I spent a week with my grandparents in Alberta.
It was supposed to be one week. But as any ten almost eleven year-old would do, I talked. I talked and I talked and I talked. And when on the phone with my mom, my grandma heard other things about how life with mom and Dean really was and it was decided. It was decided that I would be staying in Alberta and not going back to Ontario. Grandma and Grandpa gave Mom an option, either she came to Alberta, without Dean, or she wouldn't get to see me again. And for the first time in, well, in pretty much my entire life it seemed, she picked me over Dean. But she couldn't get out to Alberta. So, my Grandma and Grandpa decided they would go get her in October.
I started grade 6 in Alberta, which means I also started School 7. Until my mom came I lived with my Cousin Karen, her boyfriend, and every other week her boyfriend's two boys. I would live with them except for on Wednesday nights and weekends when I would stay at my grandparents so I could call my mom. I lived with Karen and family because they were closer to School 7. That was were I met Rachel. Rachel became my best friend.
Rachel believed in ghosts. I didn't. But she did so I did. And then eventually, of course I believed in ghosts. Why wouldn't I? But not only did Rachel and I believe we could see ghosts but we believed we could talk to them, communicate with them and fight them. Because most of these ghosts were evil and were trying to kill us, we decided. Again looking back I'm not sure if this was just some game for her (like my friends in grade 5 pretending we were going to a Canadian version of Hogwarts) or not, but I really believed it was real. And if you think of it, just substitute ghost for spirits (as I'm sure I would have eventually) and voila! I was heading down a New Age path.
It made sense to me. To live in this world of ghosts that I could kill (kill a ghost... the eleven/twelve year old me didn't quite realize you can't kill the dead or unliving but still....) cause I did have an imagination and fantasy was so much better then reality. During grade 6 Mom's second live-in-Internet boyfriend Aaron came and went. And things with him there were bad, and things with him gone were bad. With this baby step New Age stuff I was free to do whatever.
At the end of grade 6 I moved schools again. But this time because I had finished elementary school and was now in middle school. So I started grade 7 and School 8. I stopped talking with Rachel because we went to different schools now - and my mom decided she didn't like Rachel. In grade 7 it wasn't as bad as I was told it would be. I had a group of friends pretty much right away and what a strange bunch we were. I think there was five of us girls who all believed in ghosts and we believed our schools girl locker room was haunted and we were going to get to the bottom of it. We would say little "prayer" like spells before going in because it would protect us and such.
So I decided I would become a witch. A real one mind, not some fake Harry Potter wannabe. But a real witch. So one night I managed to wrestle the computer away from my mom (she was in bed) and I googled (yay for google!!!!) "How to be a witch" No really I did. I found one sight that sounded legit to my twelve year old mind (cause you know you know everything at the age of twelve). The only problem being was that it would cost $60 a month. I was twelve. I didn't have $60 period let alone enough money to pay $60 every month. And I was too much of a goody-goody and to scared to set up a fake account. So that ended my outwards searching to become a witch. But I'm sure, if I had stayed in Alberta I would have eventually succeeded.
I did not finish grad 7 in School 8. In February of that year my Dad, who lived a short Greyhound bus trip away invited me up for a visit over a long weekend. I said sure (anything to get away from home) and while I was there I begged him not to make me go home. So he didn't. He even told my mom because I was to afraid to tell her. She was extremely displeased. That's putting it lightly. If putting it lightly is like saying the sun is slightly toasty.
So started School 9. People there didn't believe in ghosts or spirits or saying spells to protect you. Or at least none that I knew of. So I stopped - but again it was more outward then inward. I truly truly was a people pleaser. And then in the summer between grade 7 and 8 (oh School 9 was an elementary school that only went to grade 7) something very random happened. I remembered going to Sunday School as a kid with my Dad and going to church with Carol in Ontario.
I wanted to go to church.
I told my dad as such and so we went to church, the Sunday before my 13th birthday. I ended up sitting next to this little old lady. And because I knew it would make her happy, like I said I was a people pleaser to the core, at the end of the service I responded to the alter call. Ta-da. Christian.
Dysfunctional or what?
Hollie.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)