YES I’M DOING THIS POST ANYWAY

I know you’ve already seen all the damn posts that you’re going to see, but you haven’t. I’m screaming at my computer as I type this because I have a whole lot of emotions right now and most of them will result in punching things and people, and I’d rather not.

So today is Friday, and many things happen on Fridays. On Fridays I go to school, usually super early to get to the dance practice at school for the Matric Dance Committee (people who org anise the prom) and then I go to class, and eat tonnes in class, and stay confused 998% of the time in math, and then I go to English Olympiad Tutorials and then walk to the taxi rank or bus stop and take public transport home.

And today DID NOT HAVE TO BE DIFFERENT.

But it was. And I’m sure that by now, wherever you are, you’ve already seen plenty of the beautifully written Valentines Day posts featured on Freshly Pressed or some or other spot for terrific writing. Let me assure you now that this is NOT one of those places, and also that I’m writing currently without thinking to all of the one person who viewed my ramblings over the past 72 hours. No matter, there are things that need to be said, or more accurately, typed, and if I do it any faster I’m probably going to have crippled fingers through tonight’s school dance, to which I’m going because I am a member of the organizing committee, *cringe* or have a few spelling errors *DOUBLEMEGATRIPLEFIVETIMES CRINGE*. On with the nonsense:

  1. I DON’T HATE ROMANCE. I think it’s important to get this out there, because today, anyone who doesn’t really appreciate the over-commercialization of a day created by the Italian Pope Gelasius the first. He proposed to make Saint Valentine the patron of the new celebration he created to replace the Festival of Lupercalia which was held annually, and if people out there still think I’m an “Arrogant love hating little b**ch who can’t find a boyfriend in time and just hates everyone who is happy”,  they could learn to research, and that’d be great.
  2. I’m actually quite a sucker for this love thing. I’m a softie, extremely warm-hearted, and I genuinely love people. It’s my nature, and it won’t change – it cannot. I handed out people anonymous/ secret admirer roses, and some of the messages were  ” I wish you knew how much I loved you” and it was lovely. It’s all fine and dandy to be in love, and to be happy, but to be dead honest, I DON’T KNOW WHAT THE HELL THIS ROMANCE THING IS ABOUT. And maybe I’ll find out one day, but it’s not today or tomorrow, so if people would get the hell off of my case about that, that’d be great.
  3. You know what else would be great? IF PEOPLE STOPPED TELLING ME THIS “you could have had a valentine…” STORY. I BLOODY HATE IT. I’m not defined by whoever gets me a rose on a Friday morning, okay? I used to have a boyfriend. Now I don’t. Problem? I THINK NOT.

So to everyone who’s calling me and everyone who feels like this “haters”, do me a solid and don’t be around me for the next couple of hours or I’ll probably bash your face in 🙂

Happy Friday, internet users. And may the odds of finding the ring be ever in the big bang of games that is your favour.

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

Scoot on ~ professional embarassment

Why hello there 🙂 I’ll have you all know that I wrote my last exam on Thursday and I am officially done with 10th grade…hopefully forever :/  Regardless, I’m alive and my friends are alive and you’re alive, so life is good maaaan 🙂

So while going ahead my usual useless being, I fell. On the road, while walking to the gas station, I fell flat on my knees in front of a petrol attendant. And he asked me if I was going to marry him. Hmm.

I have a tendency of getting myself into awkward situations that leave several people embarrassed. I guess that it should embarrass me more, because it’s not every day that a fifteen year old covered in dust falls to her knees in front of a very friendly man named Sipho and  nearly proposes to him. I’m fairly certain that it never happens. Except with me. This isn’t the first time I’ve almost proposed to someone, actually. The first time was when I was showing my friend Gillian the cottage at my house, and then I slipped on a piece of cardboard and ended up in proposal position in front of the plumber. I’m starting to believe that this whole muscle memory thing is real.

I don’t get embarrassed anymore. Not when I nearly propose, at least. I guess you could call me a professional embarrasser. I have this tendency to stop feeling awkward, ans just make everyone else wish that the ground would swallow them up. I suppose it comes with practice.

It’s not always helpful, contrary to popular belief. I know, that phrase is well overused, generally because it’s not popular belief. Regardless, when you reach the point where you can literally no longer embarrass yourself because of how often you do, it’s sad. And then you realise that you can, because you go about your regular embarrassing life, and embarrass yourself more than you humanely thought possible. Well, probably not you, but still.

Anyway, without further ado, here are some non-proven ways on how to embarrass yourself less. Coming from me, you should probably do the opposite.

1) Accept the embarrassment.  Look, if you embarrass yourself enough everyone else will either willingly or forcefully deal with it. But if you can’t, then you’re just gonna look like a noob. And let me get this straight, there’s nothing wrong with noobs. Just do you, I guess.

2) Learn how to recover swiftly. I have a dance which involves slowly putting your hands in your pockets…it usually embarrasses me more. But see point 1. I really think that a smile is good enough.

3) Stop reading this and go do something! Sorry, just my lack of life coming through.

Anyway , that is all for today, hope you all have a lovely Friday 😀

All my love, all the time

-Scoot xx

Scoot on ~ vague primary school memories

I don’t know what they call it where you’re from: Elementary & middle school, junior school, that horrible place before high school – whatever. Here in South Africa, it’s primary school, and it’s seven years that’s crazy hard to classify.

I guess the second you get out of seventh grade, you really just want to be out. I mean, it’s high school next, it’s insanely amazing, and it’s gonna be just like the movies. You’re gonna have a High School Musical, and you’re gonna find your very own Troy Bolton, and you’ll be even prettier than Gabriella, and you’re gonna defeat all the Sharpay’s, and you’re going to have friends as loyal and lovely as Kelsey, and I’m going to stop referencing High School Musical, because I’m starting to creep you out…

Anyway, there’s always that thought of ‘The Big Scary Teenagerism’. For most people at my school, you turned 13 the year you were in seventh grade, and you had a huge party, and at the end of the year, you go to your last school dance and you talk about all the boyfriends you had from 3rd till  7th grade, because that’s what counted. You talk about how stupid you were when you were younger, and you forget that you were ten three years ago. That was grade seven.

For some people, grade seven was different. For me, grade seven was when I realised that I didn’t really have any friends, when I tried to fit in with everybody, when all I wanted was to be part of just one group. I tried everything: I cut my hair, I talked different, I even changed my school bag. I never got it though XD I never really was ‘enough’ to be part of those white teeth teens.

One thing I made sure I didn’t do was to promise to keep in touch. Because I knew what that meant. “Keep in touch” meant that you never really talked. It meant that I was going to become that aunt who you saw just per chance, maybe in the store or something. When you said you’d keep in touch, it mean’t that you were saying goodbye. I hated goodbyes. I think I still do, unless I’m saying goodbye to a 30-foot feet eating flying ant or something.

Anyway, this all leads up to one girl I’m here to talk about today. Her name is Avnit Giatt, and I used to be so so jealous of how pretty she is. I think I still am, perhaps to a lesser extent though. Avnit is (from what I remember from 3 years ago) of average height, slim bulid, brown eyed, and insanely beautiful. She’s talented as anything, and her voice makes you question all that you thought was influential before. Also, it’s pronounced Av-Neet.

Avnit moved to Israel two or three months ago, and she’s still as beautiful as before. Only thing is, I promised to keep in touch. I promised. I never did, and now she’s in the Middle East, at least 5 hours away from me in a plane and closer to a million days away on foot. I won’t lie, I miss her.  I miss the way she’s genuine and true, a bout how she loves abundantly and hasn’t been sucked into society. Or that’s what I think.

I hope not, but I wont ever really know, seeing that I kept in touch. All I did was like a Facebook photo or two, and grant a wall post to ask permission to write this. Avnit, if you read this, I wanted to let you know that I think you’re amazing, and I love you. I truthfully do.

What I do know, is that I’m not going to keep in touch anymore. I’m there, I’m everywhere, I’m either whole heartedly going to contact a person or not at all. Because that’s all that really matters: whether you do, or you don’t.

Do you?

All my love, all the time,

-Scoot xx

Night 122

*** Oh, yes, I write too 🙂 please read & drop a like or comment 😀 I guess if anyone enjoys this I could add this to my regular rants 😛 Thanks lovelies 😀

All my love all the time

-Scoot xx ***

                                 ________________________________________________________________________

Today is Wednesday. It is the first Wednesday of the week long mid-term break.

It’s the 122nd night that I cant sleep.

I turn in my bed, looking for a comfortable spot to rest my head, something that should feel warm, natural. No, that’s not this. This feels alien, so strange–like something I don’t experience often, and for a good reason.

I try to lie on my back, facing the ceiling, and find myself contemplating the odds of the roof collapsing on me, the odds of anything collapsing on me, the odds of the odds being Ever In My Favour.

I think about the days that I used to try to fall asleep, as I turn onto my side. My bed creaks as I do. It says more than most people know, it speaks. Honest, it does. It tells me that those extra sandwiches weren’t worth it, that tomorrow’s going to be a sad day at the scale. So here, now, on my right side, I close my eyes.

I close my eyes to see exactly what I tried to avoid by doing so – I see the truth. My truth at least. That’s what the therapist told me once. “Your truth can sometimes hurt you, so it’s best to look deeper, for the real truth.” As if. As if a ten year old would understand that.

My closed eyes choose not to grow heavy, but rather to fill me with panic and fear, as I contemplate tomorrow.

It seems simple enough, this sleep thing. Simple as taking candy from a baby, simple as counting to three. Simplicity that’s too complex for me to find.

I turn on my left side, facing the wall, with one major thought in my mind- a first for me. I turn and think of tomorrow.

Tomorrow will be night 123.

Scoot on ~ having no clothes

“I can’t go out, I  have no clothes.” 

Something said far too often by people who actually just have too many clothes to choose from, that they feel so overwhelmed and get struck with temporary blindness, causing them to be unable to see their masses and masses of clothing. At least that’s what I think happens.

I personally have never been a victim of no-clothes-itis but it hits some people pretty badly. Take my best friend for an example: I went to her house after school because we had an arts evening that night. So she opens her cupboard and says “I have no clothes.” And considering the fact that she lives with her dad, and only 30% of her collection was at mom’s house, it’s relatively understandable.

Except for the part where she ACTUALLY HAD CLOTHES.

I used to think that when somebody said that they had no clothes, it meant that they HAD NONE. I guess I learned not when I was about 12 and somebody said that they had no clothes, so I proceeded to chuck every article of clothing out of their closet and say “You sure?”

Don’t get me wrong, I understand what it feels like not to want to wear the same thing twice. And it’s really not coming from a viewpoint of somebody with lots of clothing. I literally have one pair of shorts. I mean, yes, it feels like you’ve worn absolutely everything. But let me be the very first to assure you: YOU HAVE NOT.

I guess there are loads of things you can do…I mean I don’t know, I’m just a random tall kid who lives in a pair of jeans. I guess accesorising is good…and mixing and matching…and trends…and a whole bunch of other fashion stuff I don’t know a flying fart about. But people do, and I guess learning from them is good…unless if you’re a lazy ass like me who’d just rather wear jeans.

I think clothes are so frustrating, I mean I hate that clothes are a thing. Not because I’d rather be naked (Sweet Baby Jesus NO) , I’d hate it because things cost money and money…well it’s money. Egh.

I think that everybody has a sense of style, and I also have no clue what I’m talking about, so it’s really best you take NOTHING I say about fashion into consideration. Except this: PLEEEAASE DO NOT FOLLOW THAT TREND SEVENTEEN MAGAZINE PUT OUT THAT SAID THAT WEARING YOUR HAIR UNDER A HUGE CHUNKY NECKLACE IS COOL!

That’s it really. Sooooo I guess I’ll go have a look in my not so full but most definately NOT empty closet now. I hope you had the  most stellar of days and that you go forth and prosper in whatever else you do today. 😀

All my love, all the time

Scoot xx

Scoot on ~ sleeping and the lack thereof

 

It’s a well-known fact that teenagers should sleep. Whoever came up with that fact obviously hasn’t met the internet–supposed that they’re still alive, and if not…well God bless his or her soul.

Anywho, about two nights ago I went to bed at around 4 am, only to find that the sun was already rising, leaving me to consume my 3am ice cream in much despair, because of school in 3 hours and other ridiculous things that I believe nobody should have to ever worry about. I couldn’t sleep (duh) and I couldn’t figure out why either. It’s like 4 out of 5 voices in my head wanted to sleep, and the other one was thinking things like, “If tomatoes are a fruit, then is ketchup actually a smoothie? And also, does thee colour orange have the name of the fruit, or the fruit the name of the colour?” 
You see I’m not crazy. I know some people will beg to differ, but I’m not, I swear. I’m being serious here, I’m wouldn’t surprise you with any euphemisms (i.e. I’m just special, or I’m different) if I meant I was actually batshit crazy. I don’t have voices voices I’m my head, just regular voices in my head voices. (Say voices fast 12 times. 😛 )
These voices aren’t always helpful, and neither are the things that people tell you to do to help you sleep. Well, not for me anyway. So I’ve come up with a list of:
Things That DO NOT Help One To Sleep
  1. Counting sheep. Who in the hell came up with this? Seriously, like where does this come from? Because somebody decided that an adequate,appropriate way for someone to fall asleep would be for them to count some wool-making, cloud-looking farm animal. What?  Why would anybody want to think of a sheep if they’re having trouble sleeping? Maybe it’s the “soft and fluffy” mentality. But still, no ways.
  2. Trying to dream.  THIS DOESN’T WORK! I can testify, from about six years of experience. You want to dream about bunnies? Good for you! You think  planning your dream before you sleep is gonna help you out? WRONG. That does nothing but leave you in this half-awake half-dreaming state, and it’s awful. I’m not talking about lucid dreaming here, because that’s actually quite cool (For those of you who didn’t know, lucid dreaming is being able to control your dreams by being awake in them. Here’s how:  http://http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lYSX51xBkos‎ 
  3. Lastly, Crawling into bed. Granted this helps whenever you need to be studying, or doing something important, but the moment you get into a bed to do what a bed was made for (sleep if you wondered, naughty :O ).

So in conclusion, I’m tired. And sleep is SO necessary right now. But maybe I can go another day…them Youtube videos keep me up anyway..

All my love all the time

-Scoot xx