Alright guys. So I'm trying to collect empty tubes of toothpaste and chip bags as well as anything else that's interesting and it would be super awesome if you could send them to me. ; ) If you do, I'll draw for you or make you something awesome like my newspaper backpack.

Please? Pretty please?

So, I think it's fair to say that I've been fairly busy lately. I was at Richard Robinson (fashion school) partaking in a summer course, so not much has been scanned, and even less uploaded.

Now, it's story time again. And yes, it's gonna be long. So either park it or skip ahead to the bottom.

Okay, so... one of my 'friends' (he deserves no name), his best friend(we'll call him... Janet Jackson) hates me and keeps trying to seperate us. So janet Jackson keeps telling me that I'm a child, blah blah blah. Whatever turns you on. Hahaha. I'm talking to a mutual friend of ours (Katie White we'll call him), and he says that Janet Jackson and his girlfriend(Nicole Shertz-whatever) are perfect for each other, like butter and toast. Of course, I have a good 'comeback' to that.

"Butter is NOT made for toast...And anyways, butter is such a whore, since she can melt with just about anyone. And toast? Toast has nothing going for him, he tastes like carboard..'

So, that was my moment of comedy and also the reason why my MSN screen name says 'I can't. I'm busy being highly comical in the grocery store.' because ever since, I've been making food jokes.

So (it's my favorite word, can you tell?) I was in Toronto last weekend. And I went shopping. I could have pitched up a tent in that Mall and lived there forever and been happy. However, I did commit the ultimate sin against Fashion...twice. I bought...DUN DUN DUN...capris at Abercrombie and Fitch and a Tee at Hollister, both to which I object, but I figure that when I'm too busy (or tired from pulling an all-nighter) to come up with a killer outfit, that I might as well have something easy to wear. So there you have it. I've commited two deadly sins. Only five more to go. Wonder if food jokes could count...

What else is there to say...Oh.

On the note of Beer. Beer doesn't make you fat. It makes you lean.
Against bars, chairs, tables and walls.

Alright, back to bed for me.

This, for the record, is my attempt at being active while my computer is off having it's affair with my case. They're cute but it'll never last.

So, this past week has been pretty uneventful. I am still trying to reply to all my messages, but I have almost no time, so most people are getting the little phrase that's so overused, it's lost any meaning or emotion. " So, how have you been?" I actually do care, unlike, I think, most people. I am genuinely interested in the fact that you left your boyfriend because someone 'hotter' came along, or that life sucks because you can't get a job. And I'll tell you why, with a story.

Yesterday, my uncle, my cousin, my mother and I all went to go see the movie 'The Happening'. Some people liked it, whatever. There's this part where they're saying something about murder, and my uncle says "That's like you.." (or something of the sort, it was sort of an 'in the moment' type thing). So, I laughed, because everyone's dying, and say "Only difference between me and them (the victims), is that I would be the murderer, not the murderee."

Though that's so untrue, because the only way I'd ever kill someone was if I was turned into the Hulk or something. Unless you're a spider, and I can see you and have something to kill you with at hand. Then, you're screwed. No point in running. I will get you in the end. <insert very creepy evil laughter> like...buwahahah!!11!1 lame.

So, on a completely unrelated topic, I started working on my collection for next year (collection as in clothing... not voodoo dolls o; no one's supposed to know about those. So far, so good. Chelsea, my form, is very co-operative, though she needs to brush up on her converational skills. I can stick a pin in any part of her, but I can't get two words from her.

I haven't decided what my general theme will be, in terms of overall, but I may not use the pieces I'm working on to go towards my collection. I really want to make a pair of pants that flare right around the hips, just for the challenge, but yeah, that's boring. Who cares about my ass issues? (Do you think it's too small?)

one of my friends bought me a gorgeous. Gorgeous. Pair of white shoes, with a teeny heel, and they're pointy. And they're two sizes too small. But I'm currently stretching them. Little by little. They're worth the pain that guys are not! Whoops..shouldn't have said that. I'm only messing. But they are still worth the pain. The shoes...

Mmm, okay, I'm tired, so I'm done. Back to bed for me. I'm done relishing for this week.

So, despite the fact that (and I'm guessing here) one person out of everyone I'm friends with, actually cares what I think, I feel a need to sacrifice a little bit of my tendon to relish in my own image. Oh yes.

Yesterday was my birthday, and for the past week, I've been saying how bad it's going to be, because it always is, and has been, from the parties where I invite people that don't know or like me, because, if nothing else, I should bribe them to be my friends (with cake and 'loop bags' of course, cash means nothing to kids today). It all seems very boring, and it usually is, and they never end up my friends, because sadly, cake is never enough. All I got was a 'Thanks! We should totally hang some more next year' ( it just so happens, that my birthday is always at the very end of the school year) along with a sarcastic smile that chipped away at my heart.

Despite the fact that I predicted a horrible day, it started off fairly well. I woke up, rolled around in bed for an hour deciding what, dear god, I was going to wear. If nothing else, a birthday is an excuse to wear something spetacular.If you're bored now, you might consider just exiting the window, it doesn't get much better.Finally, I settled on wearing a shirt I've been given last year, for my birthday, by my mother's friend, from London. It's dark blue, and has a guitar painted (rather artistically) on it, and I love wearing it because it gives me an oppertunity to make many a perverted instrument joke.

My mother, though we haven't been getting along all that well, still managed to make me smile. She gave me five DVD Box sets, including the first season of the Gilmore Girls, a pair that many say we closely resemble. With each, came a little card, with a very special gift. I was reminded of being a kid, and trying to think of a present for someone, and I'd make a pretty card, and inside there would be a coupon for something, probably a back rub, because feet are usually smelly, and as much as I can love someone, I'm not a fan of smelly feet.So yes, she gave me cards with little coupon type things written inside. An example: a girls' night, meaning popcorn and a movie, redeemable whenever I want. I couldn't help but smile, it was too cute. And for my 18th, so there was significance.

I watched an episode, fixed my hair, and then grabbed the bus, but not at the stop I usually get on, because I was running a little late, and my bus driver...well..you could set a clock by his routine.

Getting to school was fine, even though I felt a little like a loser for going to school on the last day, when most people were just staying home, but I wanted to see people and there were a few signatures missing from my Yearbook (because I will probably need to auction it on eBay in a few years, along with a piece of my soul. Hoorah for starving artists). I get there, head to my locker, and there's no one there. Big surprise. Head upstairs, to my friend's locker, where every hangs out (I can't believe I just said that) and there wasn't anyone else there either. I'm not the most insecure person out there, but I did panic just a little. So, I tried location four, and what would you have it, they were there!

It was a miracle. So, I sat down, and started eating the cake my mom had bought me for breakfast. It is, coincidentally, times like this where I appreciate her the most, though she may never know so. In the hallway, sitting with the people I call my friends, I'm eating my cake, and people are all a having fun and blah blah blah, it's the last day of school. 'We TOTALLY have to get together during the summer!' And there it is again, that sarcastic smile I can't stand. Suddenly, I'm 12 again, in a country where I barely speak the language, and the girl I called my best friend, kicked me in the shins and exiled me from the rest of the group, for no reason other than it satisfied her need to do something.

Side note: This is not designed to make you pitty me, and if you do, well shame on you. Because the truth is, I may feel like an idiot, and a stranger, but I love it. It makes me different from them, and not just a clone.

To continue on, five minutes after I've sat down, and just as I'm finishing my cake, someone says 'We all know it's Nicole's birthday today, right?' I can say that I'm not self centered, but I probably am, and when I heard those words, I felt like myself again, unafraid of being different. Embarassing as it always is, they sang happy birthday, and I felt like crying I was so happy. Finally, someone had remembered me! I wasn't forgotten!

And now I skip ahead, to when I was outside, after our year end assembly, waiting for the bus to arrive. Trolling around, I got some people I knew well to sign my yearbook (an activity that was, in itself a feat), from art class (you know who you are ) and others I barely know, but that know my name enough to say hi in the hallways when we see each other. Some more cliched bullshit later, a few 'Have a great summer's and 'See you next year!!111!!1!'s I was on the bus home to get ready for two parties I'd been invited to.

I kinda of didn't feel like going to either, and being as I am writing this after the fact, though I had fun there, they've left a chalky after-taste in my mouth that I can't shake.The first party I was to attend was a 'Random' deck party, and after that, I had to go to a Masquerade, (it's times like this where I appreciate my MacBook more than a PC. Sorry PC, you lose out this time[for those of you who are PC users, I am referring to the fact that Macs provide spellcheck for everything]) to which I was accompanying a friend of mine as her <insert very very mean things> boyfriend (might I add that I am not prejuidiced against the male gender, but I do have issues with the way you guys avoid doing the things we like sometimes, so I guess it's my bad) because he had to 'work' and 'study' all night. I still love him all the same, but he definitely owes her one.

Anyways, sorry if this is boring, for anyone that's read this far.

I was stuck with what to wear, because I thought I'd be taking the bus, and I didn't want to carry a huge bag with a second outfit in it. I settled, after much contemplation, on a cream-ish colored skirt, that's way too cute, but is usually burried deep inside my closet due to the fact that it's a bit too haute couture for highschool (or so I think), with a peach colored tank, which somehow matches well. Just as I'm leaving to catch the bus (and be late to the party, stupid hair!) my mother asks where I'm going. 'The Bus?' 'Oh, it thought I was dropping you off...' 'If you want, but I'd like to leave very soon because I'm supposed to be there now.' 'Well, I have to find this receipt before I can leave, see I need to return some things..'

I spent half an hour looking for the receipts, which weren't where she said they'd be. I found two of the three, while she showered and got ready(I love her.. Haha). Finally, we leave, she drops me off, blah blah blah, boring. I'm at the first party, and they had to cut out a piece of my birthday cake because someone wrecked that area, whatever. So it became pacman shaped, which, if you knew me, would be funny, as Pacman litters my 'Research Workbook', as IB used to call it. Mr. Pacman wakka wakka's on many a page.

Again I apologize if this bores you and you're still reading. My mother picked me up an hour and a half later (with my father, who promptly wished me a happy birthday <33) so I could attend the second party while not being so late that it was rude. It was fun, even though I felt out of place. Who wouldn't? I was the only...ONLY...atheist in the entire church (yeah, big surprise? not so much ). The ONLY one. But that mattered very little, even as they sang a praise of thanks to God (who, unfortunately, didn't deserve quotation marks this time around, sorry if you're offended. don't send me to hell).

As I got home around 11pm, I thought 'I should still be out there having fun...' It was, after all, my one day that in and of itself excused my selfish behavior.I fell asleep around midnight, still feeling like I'd been gipped out of what I call a great night. I can't define what makes it great, it just sort of happens. And great nights leave a pleasant candy taste in my mouth that fades, but is entirely satifying while it lasts. And no, that was so not a sexual joke.

I am currently at my grandparents' house, using their computer (damn PCs) to tell you that despite the unsatisfied feeling I had and the calky taste in my mouth, today was better, by far, because when I opened my Inbox, there were SO many messages from Facebook saying that So-and-so had written on my Wall, to wish me a happy birthday. And that...made me feel like a God on Mount Olympus.

Okay, so tagged me.

1. Post these rules.
2. Each person tagged must post 8 random facts about themselves.
3. Tags should write a journal / blog of these facts.
4. At the end of the post, 8 more persons are tagged and named.
5. Go to their page and leave a comment telling them they're tagged.

one. Well, let's see.
two. I'm..from Quebec, Canada?
three. I speak english, french and spanish.
four. I kinda love taking random pictures when I'm on vacation.
five. I have an iPod video, that I've painted and drawn on?
six. Not so secretly, I play muds.
seven. I'm really really shy when it comes to meeting new people, for some reason, especially online.
eight. Hmm...Hey, I either want to go to Parsons in New York and study Fashion Design there, or go to a fashion school in Milan. Bet you weren't expecting that.

I'd like to tag...



I don't know why I'm doing this? Oh well.