Tag Archive | Darth Vader

My life would make a sh*tty movie

(c)TitineetMilou

(c)TitineetMilou

I’m standing in the subway, going over the Seine River, staring at a sparkling Eiffel Tower, my nose pressed against the door. It’s most unhygienic and people are looking at me weirdly. In my own fantasy world I’m riding towards a sparkly future, complete with unicorns and giant cookies. The train pitches forward and I collapse onto an elderly gentleman who looks at me as if to say “youth these days…” Back to the present. Ow, my ankle hurts.

See, this is what I do: I imagine that my life is a movie and that everything is going to turn out for the best. Of course this is a big problem because I very much doubt that Ryan Gosling or Ryan Reynolds ( why are they all called Ryan?) is going to show up at my door under the pouring rain, profess his undying love for me and present me with a giant bouquet of roses. Yes, I’m old fashioned, deal with it. Sure, there may be bumps in the road, sort of like in the Empire Strikes Back (anyone who doesn’t instantly know what I’m talking about should be… um… forced to go a week without eating a cookie (I’m being nice 😉 )): sure, the Empire owns the Rebel Alliance just like the Jets owned the Falcons last week and like any and every team who’s played the Giants, but in the end everything ends happily. Well, not happily exactly, I mean Darth Vader could have survived and spent another couple years teaching Luke how to turn on his friends and family, but I suppose it finished the best way that it could. Meanwhile, I’ve gotten off topic. Again. *sigh*

I’m afraid that my life would be rather more like Titanic though. Picture this: CT is, as always late. She runs down the hill to the metro station, hair unbrushed, makeup already smudged. She can hear the train approaching and she knows that there’s a very good chance that she won’t make it (knowing that she’ll be late for school if she takes the later one) so she puts on a final burst of speed and tears through the constraining ticket machines. The beeper on the doors sounds, letting her know that the train is about to leave. She won’t get there on time. BUT WAIT! There’s a hot dude holding the door for her! All is saved! She enters the train just as the doors shut, crashing straight into her [really hot] saviour. Oh oh, the boy has abs. Must. Not. Swoon. After pushing her off him, hot dude goes to sit down, but he keeps glancing at CT with a half curious, half perplexed look on his face. CT is just starting to think that he might ‘like’ her when she catches a glimpse of herself in the window. Yowser. She looks like a past date red pepper (and that is not a comparison that I make lightly believe me): hair sticking up in gravity defying ways, face a vermillion shade of red, weird grin plastered on her face, kind of like the Joker. And then she hears herself. Oopsy daisy, she sounds disturbingly like a parched dog. Well, that explains the staring! End of story.

That’s another thing; I sometimes talk about myself using the 3rd person, as if I were narrating my movie. Normally I don’t think anything of it, but a couple of weeks ago, someone asked me if I was schizophrenic. My answer had to be “nooooo… just crazy”. Quite honestly, if my life were a movie, it would probably be one like Attack of the Killer Tomatoes: under budget, with bad special effects, bad actors and just generally ridiculous. To make it short, my life would make a sh*tty movie.

Live long and prosper \V/

Yours sincerely,

The Mostly Confused Teenager.

Advertisements

*awkward singing* You’ve Got a Friend in Me

My friends are an extremely important part of my life. I haven’t always had them, and I guess that that makes me all the more grateful for the ones I do have. They’re always there for me, whether it’s to listen to me rant, help me with a difficult math problem (UGH) or buy me a pack of cookies and slip it to me in class when I miss lunch. I have the best friends in the Universe, and I love them all to bits.

From 1st to 3rd grade I went to a tiny country school  in Normandy with about 30 kids in total, ranging from 2 year old’s just starting to get weaned off their mothers to 12 year old’s getting ready to graduate to middle school. We were separated into 3 different classrooms and all shared a small recess court with a sandbox in the corner. Being a small number of students, we were all friends. We had our fair share of trivial yelling matches and feuds, but all in all, we were a tight knit community. That was before anyone had Facebook or anything, and the school was shut down by the government soon after I left, so I never found out what happened to a lot of my old friends.

I left in the middle of the year because my teacher suicided. No one knows why, but they found his burning car on the edge of a cliff. The school being so small, it affected a lot of people, and my parents decided that it wouldn’t be a good thing for me to stay. I moved to a larger school in the closest ‘big city’ about 30 minutes away. Although at first the kids there were all over me, they heard my story and left me alone. I spent most of the second half of 3rd grade pretending that I was a horse and galloping around the recess court. On second thought, maybe people didn’t interact with me because I was weird. Who knows?

In 4th grade I met 3 of my best friends and from then to 6th grade, I experienced my first sleepover, the singing and dancing around the living room, the long hours spent discussing important subjects such as why our 30 year old teacher wasn’t married yet (Was something wrong with her? Why did no one want to marry her? Ah, innocent minds. Of course, she did end up getting married and we felt very pleased with ourselves, as if we’d somehow engineered the whole deal). I love those girls with all my might and I’m glad to be able to call them my friends.

Then, at the start of 7th grade, I moved to Paris. What a shocker that was. I did not want to go. But I made new friends there too, and we spent our time walking around outside in circles until people cataloged us as the crazy girls who had a problem with standing still. We would talk on the phone until 11 pm (were my parents ever mad when they saw the bill) about cute boys that we had spotted during the day, or the sore throat that the principle had that made him sound like Darth Vader. I developed a lot with them, both mentally and um… *blushes* physically.

Last year, I had to leave them too to go to my first bilingual school, the EABJM, where I am now. And once again, I’ve met the most awesomesauce people. I love being able to mix English and French in a way that doesn’t work at all, spending math class listening to my friend make boat noises, and trying to get our fingers to go through the table in Physics because our teacher told us that there was an itsy bitsy possibility that that could happen. Hint: don’t waste your time. We spent hours trying, it doesn’t work.

Friends are fun. Friends are loving. Friends tell you your hair looks fine even though you have concrete proof that it looks like a bird got caught in it and wrestled its way out. Friends comfort you when you’re feeling down. Friends are crazy. Friends are like stars, even though sometimes you can’t see them, you know they’re there. You can make fun of your friends and they won’t care (most of the time ^^). Friends don’t care (and are grateful) that you’re not Sheldon Cooper. Friends will never give up on you, despite your weird obsession with cookies and sports. Friends are awesome.

Friends are people who you meet on your blog and feel instantly connected to. In a totally non creepy way. I’ll leave you with a quote from a certain philosophical little kangaroo in Winnie the Pooh: “Friends can be new, Friends can be old; all of them are as precious as Gold.”

Live long and prosper \V/

Yours sincerely,

The Mostly Confused Teenager.