sundog

March 20, 2008

I am still alive, but barely

Filed under: Family, Friends, My Life, School, Self Pity — happychick @ 6.38p03

I’m shocking, I know, but school’s knocked me on my ass and posting here is below scratching myself on my list of priorities right now…

That said, it’s the Easter long weekend and what better time to take a step back and reflect. I think I’ll do a bit of a recap- “The year so far”

So Happychick’s entered her final, very daunting year of High school. She’s hoping to be accepted into the state’s second most prestigious University next year, provided she passes her end-of-year exams with some sort of success…

Going back to boarding at the beginning of the year killed me. The holidays had been so free, so easygoing (albeit monotonous). It was back to having dinner at 5.30 in the afternoon, back to structured study times and back to sharing a god damn room. I’m the single most self absorbed person in the universe and a total control freak- poor Casey cops a yelling every time something doesn’t go my way.

Being elected onto the Student Council was flattering (and we all know power corrupts) but it just meant more work for me and probably wasn’t the best choice in terms of my school scores and stress-related breakouts.

It’s Week 8 already, I’ve seen two cricket games, had 7 tests, kissed a boy, done a public speech, lost weight, gained weight, had to cope with the news of Nan’s most recent battle with cancer, dealt with the aftermath of my brother’s attempted suicide, bought a house, planned a trip to England, waxed my legs, made my best mate cry, had a school ball, lost (and then found) my phone, had a swimming carnival, fought with my Mum and thought about throwing it all in and becoming a hairdresser a total of 6.9 times.

The biggies here are of course BJ’s diagnosis with depression and his attempted suicide. When he told me what he’d done I was so angry– I was angry at my Mum, for lying to me about it. I was angry at him for following the same self-harming path our late father did. I was so mad at myself for having no reaction other than saying “Wow” about fifty thousand times, and Jesus I was angry at God or whoever it is that controls these things for adding this to my ever-mounting burden pile. I just kept thinking, I’m 16 years old for fuck sake. My Dad’s dead, my Grandmother’s dying, my brother’s trying to top himself, my Mum’s having financial problems, my schoolwork’s getting on top of me, my acne’s getting worse- when does it end? Will it end? Am I just going to explode one day, crawl up into a ball and cry myself into oblivion? The school shrink sure seems to think so.

The best thing about this blog I find is that I can rant and rave about my self-pity for as long as I damn-well like and no one can tell me my selfishness is getting out of hand.

The Ball was amazing, though. It was… fabulous. If I knew how to post photos I would, but I’m so technologically illiterate you’ll just have to imagine. I wore this stunning red strapless dress that (unbeknownst to me) actually made me look 2 months pregnant, but I looked so beautiful I really think I could’ve given Angelina a run for her money. I’m not really one for dressing up, you see. I wear Converse High-tops and jeans, t-shirts with silly slogans and a ponytail most days. The fact that I did look so stunning made me think that there really is hope for me yet- give it five years and a bit of exercise and I’ll have nice skin and enough money to afford good fashion, and the boys wont just think I’m that silly outspoken girl who doesn’t mind if you use your tongue.

I miss being able to do this each arvo. I miss having a life actually- schoolwork is so much harder than I’d anticipated and I’m really not coping. I feel like I’m the only one but the other girls assure me they’re struggling too, but it’s taking everything I’ve got and more to maintain a B-average, which saddens me more because I’d been a solid A throughout last year. I want so badly to get into Uni but if I’m being slaughtered in high school maybe tertiary education isn’t for me.

On a more positive note, I don’t have to go back to school for 10 whole days- and let me assure you, that’s a relief.

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August 23, 2007

“Except on Wednesdays, when I get rudely awakened by the dustmen”

Filed under: Family, Happy, My Life, School — happychick @ 6.38p08

So, I’ve finally realized what my Mum meant all those times she said “childhood is the best time of your life”, and “years pass with the blink of an eye”… It’s almost September. Anushka will be 16 in 23 days, and I’m not so far behind. I’ve applied for a couple of leadership positions at school for next year- I won’t talk too much about it in case I a) jinx it, or b) am unsuccessful and have wasted breath on the subject. School’s going well- in essence, it never really changes, which is why I appear so repetitive on the subject. I’m worried about my brother, though. He’s been going through all sorts of things lately, not the least of which being an uncertainty of his sexuality- Mum even appears to think he had some kind of Autism as a kid. We’re not like other siblings, BJ and I. We don’t fight, but we certainly don’t get along. We really are from different planets. That said, we are siblings. Deep down, somewhere, I care about him and what happens in his life. He reminds me a lot of my Dad, actually. Not that I remember him all that well. Dad was very similar- introverted, moody, but with good intentions underneath the façade. I just hope BJ doesn’t end up the way Dad was toward the end of his life. I don’t want my brother to struggle with inner demons for the rest of his life. We’re studying Macbeth in Literature at the moment. To be honest, I’ve never hated anything more than I hate this- not since that drawn-out episode with Bilson, anyway. At the risk of being struck down by God, Shakespeare really wasn’t all he’s cracked up to be- talented, yes. Eccentric, definitely. But not the literary genius that he’s renowned as. I’d rather read Bryce Courtenay any day. I’m to see GG on Monday. She’s a tough old duck, I’ll give her that- she’d have to be, I suppose, to have given birth to my Dad and endure all the horrors that family had the misfortune of being dealt. I don’t think I’d mind all that much if I end up a little like her- having a beard, however, might be more than I could take. I’m wondering if crossing your legs really does give you varicose veins. I’ve been finding myself crossing and uncrossing and then wondering if all this movement is, in turn, giving me varicose veins. Oh, the irony. How do they come about anyway? My step dad thinks I need a man. A few of my guy-friends seem to think so too. It’s times like these I feel like a 70-year-old stuck in a 15-year-olds body. I’d rather curl up and watch Robin than hook in with every boy who deems it necessary. Paul might have a point though- it’s been a while, and I’m wondering if I’ve lost my game. And that’s the update. They always say it’s the little things that make a person interesting, but reading back through this post, I’m inclined to beg to differ. P.S. I was thinking today about how much of our charity money actually gets to the poor people in Africa/Indonesia/Detroit. I enjoy the “sense of enormous wellbeing” I get from giving, but it saddens me to think of those who still aren’t getting.

July 25, 2007

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

Filed under: Family, My Life, School — happychick @ 6.38p07

Harry Potter 7 was fantastic. I read and read until my eyes went numb; determined to complete it before returning to boarding. My opinion aside, many have commented on the book critically, saying that it’s boring, or confusing, and less-intense than it’s predecessors. For me, however, it wasn’t only the book that made the whole affair so exciting. It was the lead-up. I could hardly sleep the night before, and I’m only a tiny bit ashamed to admit that I had my own private hourly count-down going on. It was the anticipation that made it worthwhile. It was the lead-up to it and the ultimate realization that there will be NO MORE HARRY.

JK Rowling is more than a talented storyteller- she’s a very economically smart woman. She knew as well as you or I did that she could have written anything- anything at all, and it would’ve sold hundreds of millions of copies. I can bet she won’t be all that disturbed at a few unimpressed teenagers- no, indeed, as we say it in Aus, “She’ll be laughing all the way to the bank”.

I’ve always wanted to be an author, from the very moment I could read. And the Harry Potter books gave me hope and reassured me that there are people out there who still do read- kids who can spare an hour or two away from the TV or the computer. And from the very moment I opened “The Philosophers Stone”, I knew that this was what I would aspire to.

In other news, I got an 89% on my Math test, I’ve not shed a single homesick tear since I’ve been back, and I’m going to go and see my Dad on Saturday, as this past one was the 7th anniversary of his Deathday. Mum’s unaware- she doesn’t like the idea of my going alone to the cemetery; “There are too many weirdo’s who hang out in that sort of place”- understandably, of course, but I’ll do it all the same.

But Human Bio calls, and I will return with another post relatively soon- that is assuming that there are those of you out there still interested.

June 18, 2007

EXAM RESULTS

Filed under: Happy, School — happychick @ 6.38p06

While I face a substantial amount of homework involving Wallace Stevens and his views on imagination and reality, I am also experiencing what can only be described as one of the proudest moments in my life. I aced my exams. Passed all of them. With relatively high marks, too. But English Literature is where I really excelled. It’s ironic, really. I finished the exam so early, and wrote much shorter essays than the other girls, that I was sure I’d all but failed. Not so, said my English teacher as she verbally drowned me in her praise. I’d topped the class with 84%. Topped. The. Class. I even beat J, who, if I’m honest, I’ve had the secret desire to defeat since… well, the first day I met her. And wasn’t her pompous-ass shocked when she asked me smugly “how I’d gone”… The teach said it had “given her a great treat” to read my exam and that I “continue to surprise her”. I mean, if she’d spoken that way much longer my ego may have expanded to unimaginable proportions. Alas, I did well. I did really well. And as much as I hate that girl who does better than everyone else and sets about making it known by the whole world- I am her. Okay, ego check. I only passed my Math exam with 67%- exactly what I deserved in terms of how much effort I put into it, and my Human Bio was a 76%, which is below my average. But Lit. Oh, Lit. It’s times like these those of you who think I’m decidedly “mature” and, dare I say “refined”- see that it is not so. Underneath it all, I really am just a competitive little kid hell-bent on proving herself to the world- but if I’m being honest, aren’t we all?

June 8, 2007

Friday Night Again- Listening to Taking Back Sunday in my Jammies.

Filed under: Friends, My Life, School — happychick @ 6.38p06

My Mum once had food poisoning- she said she thought she was going to die. She was curled up and rocking- I’ve never seen anything quite like it. Now, I’m not experiencing food poisoning or anything of the sort- but I am that kind of ill you simply cannot shake.

The ill that makes your head throb like someone’s cracked you with a cricket bat. The ill that has you writhing with stomach pain, feeling weak and… well, as if you’re going to die.

Okay, reading back over that it was a little dramatic- I’ve never handled sickness well, and being in the middle of exams makes things no better.

I had my Human Bio exam yesterday- an easy pass, although I’m disappointed that I didn’t study as hard as I could’ve, or should’ve. Maths is on Monday morning (*vomit*), English Lit on Tuesday arvo, and Media last on Wednesday.

I spoke to Shona the other day online. She’s dropped out of school and is moving across the country. I’m a big believer in a good education and it really threw me when she said she’d thrown in the towel. Thinking about it now, though, it was probably the best thing she could’ve done. She’s the definition of “alternative”- to put it bluntly, she’s a new-age hippie. I’ve had a look at the alternative school she’s thinking about enrolling in, and all I can say is- go for it. The place was made for you, and people like you- and I’m sure you’ll find a hundred kindred spirits.

The long weekend was a great break. My Nan lives near this amazing lake, and I made a point of going for a walk around it every morning while I was there. The great thing about morning walks, I find, is the utter lack of teenage life. None of our generation will get up before 11 if they have the choice. And so the majority of people I encountered on these “strolls” were the retirees- friendly and smiley and almost always replying to my polite “Good Morning”. It was interesting, though- my friend and I were walking to the shopping centre and we passed an older man going the opposite way. Out of habit I said hello, and Nush looked at me in surprise- “Do you know him?” she asked, after he had replied, and was out of ear shot. Of course not, I thought. It struck me then how distant people have become from one another. Maybe it’s the age of technology, with an iPod plugged in and a phone in hand (I’m not one to talk, mind you- I’m terrible in terms of my iPod taking over my life). Maybe it’s just the fear of invading another person’s personal space. I don’t know what it is, and can provide no insight- but it’s saddening, all the same. When did people become so isolated?

My Mum can be decidedly immature sometimes. It still trips me out to realize that this woman, whom I look up to so damn much, is human too and can really be an idiot when the mood strikes her. She says things that are clearly a ploy to make her seem tough/ funny/ independent. It gets me thinking, when do people grow up? Is there a stage in a persons’ life where they are fully mature, responsible adults? The answer is clearly no- and when I meet one of these fabled adults, I shall be sure to let you know.

Interestingly enough, the ex and I had a long chat online on the weekend. We haven’t spoken for months (not since the last time I was decidedly rude to him at his school). It was all a bit surreal. He had a lot to say, none of it particularly abusive or even important- but interesting all the same. We talked about the ex-friend and his spineless internet dumping of her- his reasons were alarming, to tell the truth. I didn’t need to be told she was a rebound that he used to “try to get over me”. I certainly didn’t want to be privy to a comparison of the two relationships- not only rude to her, but unpleasant for myself. That said, I was glad for a chance to apologize- I’ll be the first to admit I’ve acted like a twat since Christmas, and it’s nice to be back on “Speaking terms”.

To Jon- 6 months isn’t bad at all. Happy Birthday. My Mum always said I’d be lucky to make it to seventeen- we’ll see if she’s right.

What else is there to share? Life goes on, “much as it has this past age”, and things don’t look set on changing drastically too soon. My close friend Tarn says I should “make a move” on a certain male friend- I asked her why she thought so. It seems as though she too has fallen into the “I’m nothing without a boyfriend” trap- I told her politely that I’m not looking for a boy, and it’s true- relationships are so much hassle it’s not even feasible for me to waste my time.

But, should Ville Valo come along I would gladly change my mind- the man is divine and I wouldn’t give THAT up for all the Grape Hubba Bubba in the world.

May 18, 2007

Friday Night Catharsis

Filed under: Friends, Happy, My Life, School — happychick @ 6.38p05

Friday nights are my self-reflection time. I like to write letters to old friends or send texts to those I’ve neglected during the week. I write Journal entries and read books and generally take a break from studying. It’s hard not to feel overwhelmed by all that’s going on at the moment, so it’s good to have some time to just sit and do as little as possible. My Nan’s motto is to do as much as possible as often as possible, in an attempt to get the most out of life. The result is a high-strung 60-something woman who cannot see the beauty of a dewy lawn or take the time to acknowledge an elderly neighbor’s meek hello. That’s nothing against my Nan- she’s the kindest thing since Mother Teresa but her priorities are a little misconstrued.

This afternoon was devoted to a school-wide “Fun Run”. 1,500 squawking girls dressed in the smallest shorts they owned, some going as far as to turn up in underwear and a cape, all trekking through the suburbs on a five km “Hike Though The Hills”. For myself, it was a great excuse to get out of Human Bio and Dance, to get out into the fresh air, release a few thousand endorphins and wonder when exactly it was that the idea of dressing up like a twat and running though the streets became immature. It was more of an Un-Fun Walk, in terms of the lactic acid build-up I am now battling.

I’ve been noticing my despicable behavior toward the other girls lately- despicable being no form of an understatement. I’ll put it down to being stressed, what with those dreadful exams and school in general- the fact the my new Human Bio teacher is a moron makes matters no better. It’s no excuse I know, to be treating others so, and I must post about my cruelty once a month (at a minimum), but in doing so I get a tad bit more self-aware and can once again attempt to curb my disagreeableness. I don’t want to be a source of intimidation for the other girls- and I want to keep my friends.

Tomorrow morning Em is coming to pick me up. She and Mum have been friends for years, and she’s simply a wonderful person. The only apprehension I have about going to her place this weekend is that her girlfriend is more than a little rough-looking, in terms of not being happy until everyone knows her sexuality. I mean, it’s fine, you’re a lesbian- but there is no reason to parade around like it’s some kind of badge of honor. I’m clinging to the hope that underneath the façade she’s a genuinely nice person, worthy of Emma, and that the weekend won’t be a complete awkward disaster.

The ex and the ex-friend have officially called it a day- not to my surprise or displeasure. I mean, I can’t pretend that it makes me happy to see her heart broken (over the internet!), but then, I no longer care enough about the whole affair to be upset. I did message her, however- not having experienced it myself, I would assumed being dropped is a terrible occurrence- one that no-one should have to bear.

Cate has been giving me regular updates about the episodes of Robin Hood, as I don’t watch it at boarding. She has a love interest in her life; a boy, I predict, who will make her happy for a decent amount of time, if either one of them works up the courage to ask the other out.

As for myself, I’m in a decent state of catharsis at the moment- I’m quite happy to “plod along”, as Mum puts it, studying when I can, going for walks, getting in touch with my spirituality before I lose it altogether. I’m not sure of anything and I’m not sure I want to be. All I’m wanting for is a weekend that lasts a long time and involves plenty of adventures.

April 23, 2007

I went back, and I got closure.

Filed under: Friends, My Life, School, Self Pity — happychick @ 6.38p04

I went back. To the school, I mean. The school I swore I’d never go back to in my life. It was quite a gut wrenching experience. But necessary. Yes, necessary. I’ve now got closure. I’ve now come to the realization that I do not, in any way, shape or form, regret leaving. I went because C insisted. And, being the best best friend I could, I went. I walked the whole way in the stinking mid-day heat (thank god for sunscreen), and it kinda went from bad to worse. Pete was there. He tried to be friendly- or patronizing, I can’t tell which. I was a little uncivil. My mindset was that I wanted him to resent me as much as I resented him for telling all these horrible lies about me, and divulging the details of our intimacy to the world. I wanted him to ignore me the way I was content in ignoring him. But instead, he tried to start a conversation.

The first thing I noticed was his hair. It was long and scruffy- and oily, too. He obviously hadn’t shaved in a while and I felt like I was talking to Tom Hanks in Castaway.

I don’t remember the exact details of the conversation- or I do, but think it quite childish to write about it here. I just remember saying things in a tone I didn’t know I had. I wasn’t sarcastic, I wasn’t rude- I was cold, and that’s worse than either. I can’t think whether I regret speaking to anyone, even him, in such a manner, or if the “down-and-out” feeling I’ve got going on is from eating too much pizza and watching “Australia’s Got Talent”.

I’m glad I went, though. I needed it. It’s the dawn of a new era, and to all those jerks who were unnecessarily obnoxious and rude today- I finally got the answer I was looking for- and I have you all to thank.

C came over last night. We had pizza, and made “lists” (of which famous people we intend to wed and in which order), watched “Australia’s Got Talent”, and simultaneously fell in love with Jonas Armstrong of BBC’s Robin Hood. I have since added him to my list. Near Adam Lazzara.

She’s a really good person. Good, in the sense that, she does what is right. If she’s upset, she’ll tell you, not blame you. She has so many qualities I’m jealous of, and I’m glad that she’s one of the two or three people around here who don’t think I’ve changed for the worse since being away.

I no longer miss what I had here. I no longer yearn for the acceptance I thought I had. I’m moving on to bigger and better things. It’ll be a long steep climb but I’ll get there and I’ll soon forget all about this place, and the people in it who were unable to see past their own noses.

April 20, 2007

It’s ridiculous.

Filed under: Angry, Friends, Home, My Life, School — happychick @ 6.38p04

It makes me mad how much the kids here miss out. On everything. At school in the city last term, particularly in Maths, it really hit home how much I’d missed out on. I’ll never forget the look of pity that teacher gave me. We were doing right angles- something the rest of the state had learned at the very beginning of last year. I’d never seen a right angle in my life. I told her so, and she stared. Stared. In disbelief. At first I thought she was going to laugh- a hint of a smile traced across her lips, until she saw the “I’m actually not joking” look I gave her. Then her stare turned to cold pity. I say cold because, well, the woman is physically incapable of smiling (must be a thing about Maths teachers, right?). She had to teach me the very basics while the entire class moved ahead. I was pretty close to tears, as pathetic as it sounds. I just felt… stupid.
It’s not just school. I mean, the education is for shit in this town, but the basic facilities are lacking too. I mean, it was 38 degrees Celsius today. Convert that. It’s winter over here, btw. Winter. So, the people who own the local pool think “oh, yep, it’s winter- let’s close up the pool”. 38 degrees. In winter. We don’t get winter here. And so, it’s the school holidays. The pools, the only minute source of entertainment for the kids here is gone.
It just infuriates me. I can’t stop thinking about what a raw deal these people are getting. One day, when I’m older and a helluva lot wealthier, I’ma come back here. I’m going to do something- anything- for these kids. I don’t even live here most of the time, and it kills me. I can’t even imagine what it must be like for C- she’s lived here her whole god dam life.

March 31, 2007

Boarding School

Filed under: My Life, School — happychick @ 6.38p03

I live at a Boarding School. An all-girls Catholic Boarding School in Australia, to be a little more precise. By no means am I Catholic, or belonging to any other religion- in fact, I’m not even one hundred percent sure I believe in all this “higher power”, “Godly” stuff. But alas, there are few, if any, non-religious boarding schools that I know of- so it was a choice of Catholic, or… Catholic.

Although it’s my first year here, and I’ve only physically been at Boarding for a little over three months, it has occurred to me just how uncommon my situation is, and just how much insight I can give from an insiders point of view.

Back to basics- those of you who’re familiar with my blog will know most of the story, so I’ll sum it up for ya’ll quickly.

My Mum and my Step Dad are public servants, working in a little town no-one’s heard of and, if they have, it’s not for the “friendly community” aspect of it all. Put simply, my town is, well, there is no simple way to put it- it’s not a nice place to live. We knew that when we moved there over a year ago, and I know it even more today.

I spent three terms (a semester and a half) at the public high school in that town. I’d never go as far as to say it was a “bad experience”. I made a lot of friends, learned a lot about country town culture and, amid it all, fell in love.

Don’t stress too much, this isn’t about to turn into a soppy love story of any kind.

So, we come to the move to boarding. The problem wasn’t me- I wasn’t some sort of drunken juvenile delinquent sent away to school because her parents couldn’t handle her.

The town school itself was a joke. In desperate need of government funding, 23 teachers short, and no kind of order or discipline at all- surprisingly enough, Mum didn’t think I’d be all too safe any longer amongst the drug addicts, rapists, stabbings and teacher bashings.

So she shipped me across the state to live with my Nan. I spent the remaining term of year 10 with her, trying, not in vain, to catch up on the three terms of work I did not do. It really opened my eyes as to how far behind I was- how much I’d missed, and, in terms of worldly experience, how much I’d gained.

It was decided between us all that I couldn’t live with Nan for another two years. It wasn’t fair on me- living with my grandparents is a hell all of its own, and it wasn’t fair on them- the olds did not need to raise another teen.

That’s how I ended up here.

Boarding’s nothing like the movies, to start off with- I’ve never been in a pillow fight, no-one sneaks out to do drugs or have quickies with their boyfriends (well, not as far as I know, and I’d like to keep it that way), and, well- I’m not exactly sure how many other stereotypes the media is flogging off these days. Shoot them at me and I’ll let you know the degree of stupidity in them all.

What surprised me the most was the freedom we get- I don’t know if I was expecting some kind of jail- a juvenile correctional facility for farmers daughters and those with half and education- but basically, as far as I’m concerned, the carers, or “House Mums” are about as lenient as they get.

There are a few misconceptions I had about the whole “boarding” experience. The first one was that we pray. Which we do. But not so much as I had expected. We have mass every Saturday afternoon for an hour, prayers every Monday evening for thirty minutes, and every evening we have house prayers, in our respective houses, for about fifteen minutes.

Let me explain the “Houses”. There are 4 Boarding houses, each named after a female saint, for each year group. Eg, my house, Catherine, is for the Year 11’s.

So, as much as I’m sure you’re all exceptionally interested in my boarding experiences, I think I’ll leave you to it for tonight. xxhc

P.S. Mum rang me from Phuket tonight- she and Step Dad are getting another tattoo each on Wednesday… And a quick shout-out to her as it’s her 40th today. J

March 25, 2007

A Fringe- of all things!

Filed under: Friends, Happy, My Life, School, Self Pity — happychick @ 6.38p03

We were all a little bored yesterday, as one tends to get when stuck in the Boarding House with nowhere to go and little or nothing to do other than homework, when P approaches me and begins to fiddle with my hair. It’s not enough just to touch though, she has to launch into a “Oh Happychick, your hair is always the same, why don’t you try something new?” speech. I have begun to expect this from P, and so I laugh it off and continue trying to read my English book, Pride and Prejudice. But no, she persisted to tell me that I should cut myself a fringe, or- even better! That she should cut my fringe.

Now, I told you that we were bored, right? Well, here I was, feeling risky, and someone had just sent me an email saying, “Never regret anything that made you smile”.

She cut me a fringe. A fringe fringe.

It’s not hideous- in fact, when it’s wet, and if you squint really hard, you can almost see the “style” P was talking about.

I have a bit of a cowlick which also doesn’t help matters, and so, I have pinned it back.

The moral of this story is, well, I’m not exactly sure- but I must’ve leaned something, right?

It’s ironic really, my previous post, all about how I’ll “never let anyone tell me what to do”, or something similar- and here I am, sporting a fringe, of all things. I guess it’ll grow back though- and I’ll never let P touch my hair again.

To make matters so much worse, I’m drowning in homework, yet again, and have come down with a violent cold. Oh how I hate being sick. It’s quite ridiculous really, we get shots for basically everything, they’ve developed vaccines for every disease know to man, but I still have to suffer the pain of a flu two days before a test. Pathetic.

And so I will leave you for my sick clothes and my bed, seriously contemplating not going to school tomorrow.

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