It feels like my whole world is spinning out of control and yet nothing is the matter. Everything is perfect, maybe that's the problem. Or maybe things just aren't as perfect as they seem, even to me. Let's go over the facts: School, going great so far, nothing to complain about really, a couple of my classes are boring but that's not really a choice, I have to take them for my honours degree. Extra-curriculars, I'm very involved this year which is a good thing in my books. House, we seem to be mostly getting along, at least the core of us, and Heather and I are getting along awesome so I have someone to talk to within my house if needed, not that I couldn't talk to the others but it's still nice to have someone to single out. Friends, I haven't talk to some of them from home since school started but that's because I haven't had a computer and one of my housemates *couKYLAgh* has been on the phone 24/7. Family, going great, my Mom brought me up homemade pie the other night and my Dad installed some blinds for me in my room. So what's the problem? Beats me. All I know is that I feel as though I have no control and nothing can bring me back to reality that things are going great and not to be so depressed. Maybe next Friday is a good idea, but is it worth it for such a little time? I feel as though to smile I have to lift a 50lb weight off my chest first... and yet I smile anyways. I stare at my finger and try to remember that someone out there can tell me what's the matter... I just can't figure it out for myself this time. Don't worry though, I'll put on a happy face and when you ask I will say I'm just fine.

This is a statement I hear on a very regular basis. I hate this statement. In fact, it is one of the most offensive things a person can say to me. It's based on assumptions, not on truth. People ask me what my parents do, am I supposed to lie? I am proud of my parents, proud that they have accomplished what they wanted to do. My Dad is a very successful lawyer, does this in any way reflect my monetary status? People ask me what kinds of cars we have, and then accuse me of being rich because of them. I'm sorry, but my name is not on those ownership papers, I did not shell out the money to buy them all. Yes, right now we only have 3 cars at our house, there are 3 drivers, that should be all that is important, not that my Dad drives a Porsche and my Mom drives an Audi. My car is an Acura, do you know why I have it, do you understand the family dynamics that got me that car? No. Don't assume I am rich because of the things my parents buy. I have worked hard for everything in my life, I worked just as hard as everyone else for university. Instead of having to impress the OSAP people I have to impress the worlds biggest critics, my parents. My brother fucked up his education so now I am the prodigal child, I have no choice but to do well. In my house a C is bull, a B-, almost good. I worked two jobs the summer before university so I would have enough spending money for the year, then to hear people complain come the end of the year and accuse me of only having money because of my parents income brackets, unacceptable. I had money because I worked for that money and I didn't squander it all on alcohol. This summer, I worked a total of 584 hours. So I should expect to see quite a large sum in my bank account, and I am proud of that money. I never once had a sick day, never once had a vacation, I worked hours of unpaid overtime, and gave 100% every time I sat at that desk. So you're right, I do have money, but it's MY money, not my parents, and I am by no means rich. My parents won't just hand me over the credit card or give me money, I have to work for it. Yes, they pay for my education, but in return I give them 8 straight months of hard work. So you can scoff at me, say I'm spoiled, say I am rich, call me whatever you bloody well want, just know you aren't right.

I had a long conversation with Mike tonight, until about 2am, and then I went into my room, crawled under the covers, turned on my movie and tried to sleep... but I can't. I am broken. I thought I had finally cured my insomnia, watching a movie as falling asleep works as a deterant to my overactive mind and therefore I can fall asleep easier. It stopped working. I thought talking to Mike even, and being all warm and happy inside would do it to, but that didn't work either. I am broken. I just want to sleep!!

PS. I miss my shirt, good thing it smells good lol

Maybe I'm writing this because I have had so much time to think recently, maybe I'm writing it because I only got 3 rocky hours of sleep last night, in any case, I am writing it. I have had what one might call a "bad life" when it comes to self image and popularity. In elementary school I was the ugly fat kid, and then upon entering a private high school I felt like the degenerate who just never fit in. When I left Appleby College it kind of felt like I had a new start at life. I was in better shape then I had been since grade 4, and finally understood the meaning of "sexual persuation". I suppose Mike and Emily brought me out of my self conscious bubble, changed my life forever, they know that. I received a whole new outlook on life, and while I had always had an air of independence about me, suddenly I realized that I deserved to be me. When I started at Iroquois I had just gotten back from Australia, a trip that opened me up to so many possibilities in the world, so many paths that my life could take, and so there was never a moment I didn't walk around with a smile on my face, showing the world that I believed in the power of happiness. Believe it or not I was a little reserved upon beginning my new school, I knew nobody and nobody knew me. I made a few random friends but nobody I really clicked with, until that day. I made some of the most amazing friends in my two years at IRHS, and I truly believe that each and everyone of them changed my life in a certain way. There is never a moment now that I don't walk into a room with my head held high, smile, and turn to the person next to me to make a new friend. Don't get me wrong, I have not overcome my huge issues with self image, I still look in the mirror and see the ugly fat kid that I used to be, but I realized that some people see me differently, and while I can't understand it, they just love me for who I am. I give a lot of credit to a few people in my life, they have made me the person I am today, and for that, they will never leave my heart, even if they leave my life. Most people look at me and don't understand my life, you can't read a book by the cover. If you could then the day I walked into Baillie House my life never would have changed and I would have never become the person that I am today. Remember, it's not what you look like, looks are the farthest thing from important, it's who you are, and how you got there. Ten or twenty years down the road we will all have wrinkles, but it's how you got them that matters. I will never look in the mirror and see wrinkles created from years of smiling and think negatively of them. So please, next time you look at me don't look at what I appear to be, look at who I am, you may be surprised.

I suppose I am only writing this post because I feel obligated to write something now that I have Internet again, even though I really don't seem to have anything to write about. I think it has something to do with walking to and from school every day, it gives me time to think, even though I am usually with a house mate. Especially since I haven't really had much to think about recently, I am starting my second year at University and all my courses are still in their intro week so we haven't really delved into anything of any particular interest to me. My profs seem as nice as they can be, [for people determining the fate of my future that is] and as usual I have already made friends in my lectures and tutorials, and yet, somehow I am just devoid of emotion right now. I suppose that my life is so serene and peaceful that I have no reason to vent my anger or even share my delight. Don't you all worry, I am sure that with time I will become a little more stressed and will have some interesting stories to share, but for now, I suppose my life is, well... perfect. Wow, that's a hard word to use.

Now, for something I learnt in my first week of school:
When two adult male rabbits are left in the same cage together for any length of time the dominant male will eat the other rabbit's balls off. Bet you didn't need to know that, me neither. It was part of a documentary we watched in my Sociology 204 course called "Roger and Me" it's by Michael Moore in the late 1980s. It is actually pretty interesting but I won't bore you with any details.

Not wanting to leave an empty canvas I am going to attempt to fill the space.. somehow.

Approaching the cobblestone pathway I could see through the steamed windows little children playing, and adults sitting around the fire, sipping wine, and I imagine talking politics and world affairs. Subjects that just don't tickle my fancy. I walk up the stairs next to their front door, to my one bedroom attic apartment. It's quiet, as usual, but I like the quiet it allows me to think. Sometimes I think about the past, and other times I dream about the future. Someday I hope to be a teacher, but not the normal kind of teacher, I want to be like my grade 1 teacher. She turned our classroom into the "Learning Jungle" and you needed to know a password just to get in. I don't remember it exactly but it had something to do with respect. I never used to want to be a teacher, I wanted to be a firefighter. But my mom explained it to me that women can't be firefighters it's a man's job. I would be far too weak and fragile to participate in such actions. Then again my mother wasn't much more than a housewife. I know there are those housewives that do so much more than cook, clean and watch the children, but my mother wasn't one of them. She dropped out of high school in grade 10 so that she could marry my father, have children and work on that perfect American life. You know the one, 2.2 kids, a minivan, a house in the 'burbs with a white picket fence and a dog named Buddy, the perfect family. Or so it should have been, if my father hadn't of been such an asshole. Every night I would hear my mother's screams, her pleas for mercy as his hand smacked across her already tender flesh. He would drink non-stop and we could always hear his drunken walk as he stumbled up the stairs each night, a regular at the local bar. My younger brother, Nicholas and my sister Mary would crawl into bed with me every night. Terrified for the day his drunken rage brought him into our room, or until he beat our mother senseless. One afternoon after another argument my father had stormed out of the house. Creeping up the stairs I inched my way to my mothers bedroom door, set slightly ajar I slowly pushed it open and slithered into the room. Mother was lying there, crumpled forward over her legs, one knee bent up to her chest, and the other bent beneath her body. I thought this was the end, he had finally beaten her to death and next he would be after me. I lowered my small frame to her side and stroked back her matted hair, through her swelling eyes she looked at me. Her eyes showed so much sadness, so much pain, not just physical but emotional. Her high school sweetheart was no more than another abusive husband; her "perfect" American family was no more than the real American family. It was on that day that I realized, life isn't what you want it to be, sometimes you can't control your future, you just have to role with the punches I suppose, whether they be physical or emotional.

Well, it's been a long week without any Internet and therefore without posting any blogs. You've all missed me, I have felt it, I really have. I realize I haven't really said anything in such a long time and I should have so much to say and yet I am blank.

I started my classes today, 2nd year of university, two majors, one of them is honours and one general, and yet I only have 3 hours of classes a day and nothing on Fridays! It's a great life. My two classes today were both just the introductory lectures so nothing was really covered, nothing of substance anyways besides course breakdowns.

I moved in last weekend, the weekend of the 4th. It was a long week, none of my housemates had moved in yet and we had no cable or Internet. On the Saturday night I slept at home because the house was kind of creepy and empty, then on the Sunday I slept at Mike's place after an AMAZING World Cup Hockey Game at the ACC, Monday Jen spent the night here with me and then I toughed it out for the rest of the week! Things are great now, my housemates are here and with some minor exceptions we all seem to be getting along. It's going to be a great year... oh, and my room looks awesome!

My Grandpa had a bit of an accident this weekend, I hate when these things happen. It makes me sad about the future, not that I can prevent it from happening. He was going out on Saturday morning, as he always does, to wash my uncle's car and never made it past the outside door steps. My Uncle went to check on him 20 minutes after he had gone outside and found him sitting down unable to move. My Grandpa has always had trouble with his knees and we are fearful that he keeps suffering mini strokes, anyways he had a leg cramp and was unable to move. It took another 45 minutes just to get him up the three steps and inside the house... I love my Grandpa.

Unfortunately the creative juices just aren't flowing tonight, I will post later.

Well, today has been a day from hell, even though it's my last day it has been absolutely dreadful! Early this morning I was just cruising through the Friday motions, checking messages, entering date, etc. Then, I decided to clean off my desk and discovered to my absolute horror a nice big pile of Stewart Title Policies! (When you buy a house you have to title insure it, so every client that comes through the office gets a policy) Anyways, I was under the impression that all reports had been finished up to this point, the rack that holds unfinished files was empty, the spot where the pile of Stewart Title's go was non-existent, so I had [apparently] stupidly assumed that my last day would be a piece of cake. *Eeehh* (<--that's a buzzer sound) NOT EVEN CLOSE TO A GOOD DAY! I have been rushing around killing myself to try and get these done, had an "oh shit" attitude all day to top off my sadness (not a good combo) and now I have relinquished myself to an "I don't give a shit" attitude. I have talked to Mike on the phone, which actually probably stressed me out more, I attempted to talk to Cassy on the computer but kept getting distracted by the tight ball of nerves sitting inside of me... and now, I am posting my last blog from work. I had so many things I wanted to write about today, instead... I have decided to complain. All those out there who read this, I am sorry for my bitterness... I shouldn't be leaving on such a negative note but, *meh* what can ya do. Moving tomorrow, game on Sunday *woohoo!!* and then who knows when I will have internet. Peace.

Today is my second last day of work! And while I am excited, I really am, and yet it's kind of bittersweet. I was getting used to this 9-5 drone and my hefty pay cheque every couple weeks. I will miss my money!! I am going to look for a job when I am in Waterloo but nothing will compare to the cash I rake in working here 40 hours a week. Also, once I leave I can come back and work on random weekends or evenings with no obligation to be here for a certain number of hours or days, there is so much work to be done they want me to come in even when the office is closed to try and catch them up... and, I get paid under the table... WOOHOO NO TAX! Okay, I'm a loser, but money is essential in my world, I spend a lot of it! Unfortunately, I won't have an assistant if I come in on weekends, she has been sent on her merry way, and won't be returning until possibly next summer.

One thing about my parents really bothers me sometimes, other times it's a blessing in disguise, however, it usually just gives me the whole "Princess" appeal which I have really not pushed for having but seem to keep acquiring. You see, my parents, mostly my Dad, want the best for me. Last year I moved into my dirty (but soon very loved) dorm room at University and after a couple days called my parents to ask them to buy me one of those $15 egg carton foam things for my bed, the mattress was killing my back. So, you would think they would happily run down to WalMart and pick me up this cheap and simple yet effective solution to a sore back. But no. They show up a few days post-phone call with a massive Sears bag towed behind them. Being the sane one in the family I think to myself, wow, they bought me a lot of foam... or maybe it's chocolate cake!! It wasn't either option. They bought me a feather bed to go on my mattress... very comfortable, but unnecessarily expensive. To top it off, my Dad had the nerve to say around his friends in his "joking" mannerism how Princess Ashley had to have the best feather bed... NO, I WANTED FOAM! *Arg* Then today, my Mom informs me that they are going to Home Depot to buy me some metal rack thing for my closet in Waterloo... all I asked for was a piece of wood to be cut so I can put my shoes on it! I bet the thing will be incrusted with diamonds. Or not. At least they care... right?

They do care, we have spent the past two evening/nights in Waterloo painting my bedroom a nice bright cheery colour so that I won't become lonely and depressed down in my basement room lol. It's nice though, I really like it, and I can't wait to get all artistic on the walls with my acrylic paints. I was thinking tropical theme... sound good?

Last night after painting I drove on into Toronto to meet up with Andy, Arno and The Rock and a couple of their friends for some drinks and basically just a good time. Arno and Rock leave today back to France, kind of sad :( But I promised Arno I would come visit him... I even wrote it down, so he is going to hold me to it, I guess this means I will be making another trip to France at some point, not that it's a bad thing, just wasn't really on my list of upcoming destinations, I have too many places I want to see for the first time, much less a country the second time, although he is in a part I haven't been to, so that could be interesting. We had a lot of fun though, and I stayed later then I should, I almost fell asleep a good couple times on the highway driving home. I'm glad I went though to say good bye to the boys. *sniff* I hate when people leave!!

I will probably get to post tomorrow from work describing tonight's escapades, hopefully I will be going shopping with Em so I can see her one last time before we part (although nothing can stop me from driving to Peterborough), and I want to run by Hannah's house just so I can see her and Sarah one last time before leaving... I also have to give her some copies of the pictures from the zoo... there is the most adorable one of her and Mike! I am going to miss her, I wish she was just a little older so I could bring her to school with me for like a weekend. We'll see. Anyways, as I was saying. I am going to post tomorrow about something and then I will probably be offline for a little while. I am moving on Saturday and don't know when I will have Internet again. Plus, even if I do have Internet, I am going to see Mike play soccer on Sunday in London then going to the WORLD CUP HOCKEY GAME (Russia vs. Slovakia) with him in Toronto, probably won't be back in Waterloo until mid to late day on Monday.

I had to run a quick errand for the office, as I was pulling out of the parking lot a woman ran up to my car and asked me to roll down the window. Knowing if the infamous "stop light lady" who gets in your car when you're stopped and makes you drive her places I was slightly tentative about rolling it down, but I did. She started to cry and explained that she was very embarrassed but she was staying at a battered women's shelter because her husband abused her and could she please just have $1 or $2 to buy a coffee and muffin from the local Tim Hortons. Usually I don't have cash on me, I happened to have some change in my wallet and a $5 bill, I took out the bill and handed it to her. Her face lit up, she handed it back and said "are you sure?" I said "of course." She left, with tears still streaming down her face. I don't know if she was telling me the truth, but I don't care. If she was desperate enough to go up to someone's car window and ask for money in one of the most unforgiving cities around, then $5 is the least I could have given her. Strangely, giving her the money made me feel bad. It made me think about all the people in Toronto that I don't give money too, I mean I can't give it to everyone, but how come her? Did I only do it because I was afraid, or do I actually care about other people, why her!? I guess I'm just having a bad day, anyone who knows me or even reads my blog knows that I have been battling with some sort of an illness, today is a bad day, I'm not doing so hot... but that's okay.

Also, anyone who has been around me this past week might have noticed that I am a lot happier, it's because I started taking my pain killers again, for my shoulder. I stopped because of something a friend said to me about it, but realized that they didn't really mean most things they said so why believe this thing? I'm doing better though, I can move my arm without debilitating pain, and there isn't a constant stabbing reminder of it when I'm just resting.

On a happy note, my parents told me last night that I can play hockey this winter, just not varsity. They have been stalling on signing my forms because of my shoulder, but I basically told them if they don't let me play then I will do it without their permission since I am old enough to sign everything myself. Their only criteria was that I play low-end house league, which is fine, I don't really have time for anything else this year with all my other obligations (all of which I am really excited about!!)

I didn't mention this as a post yesterday because I wanted to make the one about my Grandpa be more special, so I thought I would jsut throw it in now :). On that same day/night it was Sean's 19th birthday. Originally there weren't any real plans for us to do something for it since we already had a party, but K rang me up mid-day and asked if I would be interested in coming with them to East Sides for a post Strip Club drink and meal before the boys carried on to the rest of the bars. It ended up being, K, Sean, James, Richard, Dave and I at East Sides, small group of us but a lot of fun regardless. After we grabbed Tom from the train station (at which point James decided to press his white ass up against my car window lol) and then head downtown to park by Dave's place. K and I followed them to the first of five bars -The Queens Head- then they continued on to the rest alone. It was a lot of fun, and I do have pictures... duh! But that roll is still in my camera, so I won't have them ready for a while. I dropped K off at home and we had a sad good bye, I am really bad at good byes... I miss you already K!! :(

This post sucks I realize it's like 15 year old ramble lol. Oh well, don't like it, don't read it haha.