NEW FRIENDS NEEDED – APPLICATIONS OPEN

I owe you all a proper post. After this semi rant-rant.

So I’ve been on grade eleven camp for the past  four days, and the point of this camp is for the grade to bond, because we’ll be leading the school next year and stuff. We’re supposed to get to know people who we didn’t through the randomised groups we were put into, and then we’d learn to work with each other and a thoroughly fruitful experience would be had, yeah?

Nah.

So what actually happened on camp? For me, mostly everything that should have happened. I talked to people that I had only had my own formulated opinions about, and I got proven wrong almost every time. I had a 16 1/2 year old boy run down a hill with me on his back after I had hurt my ankle, and he just kep running and asking if I was okay.This boy that I thought hated my guts. Wow, surprise right? I got a couple of those – pleasant surprises.

But I also go some other surprises.

I guess they don’t count as surprises if I really knew that it was coming in the back of my mind, but the surprise came from the extent to which it happened. Confused? Let me fill you in.

So at school I used to sit with these people.  Three girls,  three boys- one of which who used to be my boyfriend for all of 2.5 months(wow [sarcasm]) , let’s call him Remy, and one who was my best friend that we’ll call Autumn (? questionable definition). Now one of the other girls that we’ll call Hazel is dating Travis, and Autumn is dating Seth (who in turn hates my guts, and only Jesus knows why because he doesn’t even know). Also in that group, Alaska, a lovely sweet girl who never gets involved in much and lives really close to me (so I’d rather stay on her side seeing that if a bear was chasing me, her house would be nearest to mine), and Audrey, who is overly brash and loud, but is basically a part of my family. Now that you’ve been introduced, let me tell you what happened:

Basically, as heard by 9 different eye witnesses,  Seth (hates me) and Travis (apparently hates me too?) along with Hazel, bitched about me for a whole 40 minutes, and called me several things, including 1)  backstabbing bitch who was never good enough for Remy – did I mention Seth and Remy are twins? 2) crazily inferior to Imogen (who calls herself my friend) , Seth’s new girl-girl, and 3) apparently smack-talking Autumn, all the time yeah?

WELL GUESS WHO JUST GOT RE-INTRODUCED TO HERSELF? ME!

I spoke to both Imogen and Hazel, and both seemed oblivious to any of the things said. Imogen apologised for not speaking to me, and told me she’d never want to ruin our friendship-cute hey? FACT TIME: NOT JEALOUS. Hurt that Imogen didn’t even make an attempt to speak to me about something involving the two of us after a month of brewing? Yes. Well, I was.

I don’t really care much now, but if they’re reading, these people know who they are.  Also I changed all of their names because I think mine are cooler except Travis. Travis is kinda ‘eh’.

Well, I’m in the business of looking again. New friends needed. Applications open.  Application closed to deadbeats, put downers, plastics and bitches.

-Scoot xx 

Scoot on ~ where social insecurities go to hide

So today I thought I’d write to you from my IT class. Being one out of the three people in my classroom environment filled with predominantly oestrogen, my class can be defined as territory for the brave. Okay, maybe I’m being a little exaggerative, but you need to hear me out.

As of now, I have science as my last lesson of the day and I’ve done no homework, I’m going to skip public speaking so that I can get a ride to ballet only to be told that I’m pointing my feet the wrong way and “not to worry, it’ll get better in time”, and then I’m going to get home and be swamped with homework and probably sit on the couch closest to the wireless router in my house and browse instagram, tumblr, and Facebook until my cows that I never have had the desire town come home.

But apart from all that, I have to deal with now. Right now, it is 12.29 pm GMT +2, and I am surrounded by 15 people currently (and hopefully for some or other person) equipped with otherwise shaped genitalia and RAGING HORMONES THAT I CANNOT ACTUALLY DEAL WITH.

Let me be enraged for a minute: IT IS NOT EASY TO BE THE FEMALE OBSERVER! I mean, you’re probably thinking, “Come on Scoot, it’s not that bad.” But let me tell you, THAT IT IS.

To be honest, the title of this post wasn’t planned coherently with this post but the more I write, the more it does. My IT class is full of expectation. Seriously: there are 15 boys to whom the perfect girl is fair skinned, thin, fit, fun-loving, smart, athletic and all in all, Christmas morning.

So, what does that have to do with anything? Well, once the guys are done feasting their prying eyes upon the protruding exterior of my incredibly intelligent IT teacher, they tend to look around them. And on several occasions, I’ve been told that Ashlyn and I aren’t Christmas morning. We aren’t up to scratch, not good enough.

But this is where it stops.

There are so many beautiful human beings – ale and female alike- who aren’t Christmas morning. And why would they want to be? Christmas is a capitalist ploy to extort consumers out of anything and everything in the shortest time frame possible. Maybe they’re Independence morning – loud, and over acknowledged, yet looked over at the same time. Maybe some of these people are new years day, because they bring fresh hope, yet always seem the same as the previous. Or maybe, just maybe, some of these people are nights, and don’t fit into the moulds of perfect mornings. 

But how would anybody know. Nobody ever asks.

Now, a class mostly full of penises, (in my opinion the plural of penis is actually peni but hey, whatever the English language says goes), some things are bound to appear. If you’re ashamed of your legs, then these boys will probably reassure you that you should be. It’s the way it goes sometimes.  Or, sometimes, they’ll tell you what I got told mid-2013:

What is actually wrong with you? Because I’m not gonna lie to you and tell you that supermodels have nothing on you or that you’re the hottest girl in the school, but I’ll tell you this: you have got to get over yourself. Because your body is fine and if you keep going about like the world is gonna end if you don’t transform into someone else- it’s probably going to end.”

A 16 year old boy told me this, and I couldn’t be more grateful.

There really are only so many things you can do: live, or die. Both happen, but only one is guaranteed to it’s full potential. (PS IT’S DEATH.) You have insecurities? Get them out. Because not everybody is lucky enough to be dipped into enough testosterone daily to be  reminded of why he or she shouldn’t have them.

All my love,

Scoot xx

Scoot on ~ the grade 11 imposed hiatus

SCOOTON IS BACK!!!

Hey guys! After about a week and a bit long hiatus, I’m around again! Let me present you with some simple facts that I’ve learned in the short week or so that I’ve been back at school:

  1. School is still school. You can dress it up, mark it down, give it ribbons, add electronic sign boards, get new security guards, appoint new teachers, DO WHATEVER. School is still a place where you get taught things, 50% of which you’ll forget should you go a year without looking over them. Regardless, it’s happened. Oh well.
  2. Math is STILL MATH.  I don’t know what I was hoping for when I got back to the hell pit. Maybe I was expecting a new teacher and a sudden vast understanding of this whole number thing. Guess what? NOPE! I did get a new teacher though – one that doesn’t tell me to practice my trig to become a plumber.
  3. People don’t change. And I know this is pretty generic, but I’ve found out most recently that it’s true.People change some of the things that they do, but they themselves do not.  If someone was -for lack of a better word- mean, at one stage, then the chances are that sooner or later they’re going to be mean beyond the point of being excusable. Can I utter my words of advice? Especially if you’re like me,  put yourself first. You may be a lazy selfish ASS at home, but when it comes to other people, you might be a people pleaser. STOP. Forgive them – for yourself.
  4. SCHOOL IS OVER IN A YEAR AND A HALF FOR ME. That is scary and that is all.
  5. I think too much. About stuff that’s strange. Random stuff. Like why one teacher looks like a vampire and sometimes wears his wedding ring (?) on his pinky finger. Also, about this blog, and when I’m going to write, and what to write. And about ballet, and how people can be really bad drivers. But that’s all in the scheme of things, in terms of the way things go.

I really have to go do some math now, OR I SHALL BE FAILING ELEVENTH GRADE.  That’s bad, if you were wondering. I’ll be back sooner rather than later, dependent on the life stuff and other things you don’t care about. Go forth and prosper! 

All my love,

-Scoot xx

Scoot on ~ 11th first day jitters

So the school year in South Africa starts tomorrow, and I’m going to be in eleventh grade.

ELEVENTH GRADE!!!

If there was ever one first day I was afraid for, it’s this one. Apart from my first day at my ballet studio, this probably takes the cake.

Yes, I know, most of you probably think that I’m mistaken. I went through first grade like a kid on steroids. I could not wait to get away from my mom and dad and finally get into real school where my big sister and brother were. I seriously thought that all the other crying kids were SO petty, and needed to get over themselves. I loved the idea of school, so much. So much! And first grade wasn’t awful, but being the only kid in the class who could read fluently, it had its setbacks. I had a lovely lady as a teacher though, and met some cool people who I’d meet again in 8th grade – which is the start of high school in SA.

Most of the people in my primary school went to Northcliff High for grade 8; and all I wanted to do was get away. I went to Parktown Girl for grade 8, and that was when I made the official switch to Scoot from my actual name, Shalom. (This thing keeps correcting that to Avalon which would have been an awesome name too :P) I made it my goal to talk to everyone, hoping that they wouldn’t all hate me as much as people in 7th did. Lucky me, most of them just did it in terms open so I wasn’t confused. 😛

I think that grade 8 was the time that I started noticing people for what they really can be, and I stopped being so foolish XD It was an interesting ride, and I left that school too, funnily enough.

I then moved to Northcliff, and met some people, and went about the same 8th grade strategy for 9th. It worked, more fake people, though. I guess some of them were alright, like Jess . And so I carried on, through 9th and 10th, so why should this be any different? Here’s why:

In South Africa, your report in 11th grade determines whether or not you get accepted into university. I need a bursary. So this year means endless work, and I have dance on top of that – I’m going to be trying to do the Cechetti Intermediate foundation exam, after a grand total of 7 months of dancing. XD The future for me is now, and it’s affecting me so hard that I cleaned my room.

WHAT
WHY

It’s funny, I suppose I have a habit of not doing what I have to unless I’m scared or anxious. Bring on the panic attacks!

I’ve never been able to sleep the night before school started. For 10 years, this being the 11th. Well, at least I’m consistent in one aspect.

All my love, especially to that one amazing viewer from the Russian Federation who I’d love to leave me a comment or something!

-Scoot xx