Wednesday, August 31

AHHH, a leaf!

Yes, that's right. The leaves are back. With a vengeance.

That means our dear, old friend, school, has made it's comeback as well. The days are now packed with preparations and shopping and supplies and new clothes.

And you all know you're excited for it. You can't deny that you feel the slightest desire to be back in the groove of things and back with everyone in the same place.

Everyone changed so much this summer and we're all going to walk into those doors on Friday, (Or Tuesday for everyone who doesn't go to Saint Macs, and who sucks) and realize the changes. I'm nervous and happy at the same time... I'm hoping grade 10 will be as good as gr 9 but I mean you really have no idea until you're done the year.

So here's my farewell to Summer. It was probably one of the best one's I've had in a long time. One of those defining Summers, you know, when you meet a bunch of new people, do a lot of soul searching and withgo a drastic mental-makeover on the way that you look at things.

I hope this year treats you all as well as last year did.

xox

Thursday, August 25

i don't care if you leave me anymore, because most times it feels like you're already gone

Look into the future
Look into my eyes and tell me everything's alright
Tell me where we're going
I'm so afraid cause I don't know
What's going on with my life

But it'll be alright tonight
Will it be alright tonight?
Are we doin' alright in old L.A. tonight?

Sitting by the ocean
Mapping out my plans of action, baby, they include you
I wish you'd send a message
Maybe I'm just better off not knowing who knew

But it'll be alright tonight
I'm gonna be alright tonight
Are we doin' alright in old L.A. tonight?

Those summer nights when I look in your eyes
I'm falling to pieces, pieces out of my mind
And I'll never know why
I'm falling to pieces, pieces

Who could you imagine such a thing could happen to you?
It's gonna be alright in old L.A.

Those summer nights when I look in your eyes
I'm falling to pieces, pieces out of my mind
And I'll never know why
I'm falling to pieces, pieces

It's gonna be alright in old L.A. tonight
-Ozzy Osbourne - Old L.A. Tonight

Monday, August 22

bet you were expecting something great

Well, I'm just too tired to deliver.

The trip was amazing. Nothing to complain about there. (For once) But waaay too much to type. So if you want to see pictures of all the nuts things we did, you can check them out here where I expertly organized them and made them all pretty.

You're just going to have to use your imagination about what happened. It's a lot more exciting that way.

Thanks for all the Bloggaversary comments too readers. Meant a lot to me.

Friday, August 19

happy bloggaversary!

Here it is people. One full year of truly amazing blog posts. One full year of Love Is A Piano.

We laughed, we cried. We wrote nasty comments. In celebration, I ask you to leave me a nice one for the occasion :).

And for my part of the celebration, I present this special post.

Why Saint John Sucks
A Suckumentary By Katelyn Andrews and Maria Lamprea
While waiting for Saint John Idol to start the other day, we had a fabulous idea. Why not go around and take pictures with our trusty cameras of why we hate our city with a fiery passion that consumes our souls? Sounds like fun, non?
So here they are, actual proof that living in our city shoud be considered inhumain.

We have such amazing scenery, no? Don't you just want to live here, wake up every morning to the scent of seaweed and toxic waste and look out your window to see industrialism at it's best too? Cus I know I sure love it.














Our engineers must have been geniuses in their time. But no, seriously, every structure in this city is boring and everyday. Like, oh my god, a bridge... that goes over a river. (Actually, it's the reversing falls... something amazing or something like that but who really wants to see it anyways?)














There is no 'Saint John Centre', (Note, they spelt Centre in French...) There is no Saint John City. Hell, we don't even say 'downtown' because it sounds so damn ridiculous.














Our folliage is truly remarkable eh? Actually, it surprises the hell outta me that even a little flower can grow in a place that endures 8 months of winter... Go flower power!















There are two many ways to get out of Saint John, and not enough ways to make people want to stay here.

Also, if you were having a bad day, do you know how easy it would be to jump off that bridge, roll onto the tracks and get hit by a passing by train? EASY I TELL YOU!














*Cough*Cough* Can you say lung cancer? Or asthma? Whichever is easier. For real though, the ammount of pollution we distribute into the air is disgusting. Again, here's where the industrialism comes into play. No one wants to live here but everyone wants to built a new power plant or refinery or goddamned call centre here.














We have such an abundance of artistes eh? I would call this very post modern! Cus you know, everyone in Saint John is so busy being such a tough-ass g-unit that they obviously hold no regard for the police force.














We litter more then we clean or recycle.














More than half of the population is overweight. Making Saint John Canada's fattest city. And Making the numerous McDonald's a second home for most citizens.














We think we're the next Hollywood. Which I'm sorry to say, but there is no way in hell. Like, what was the point of this sign? Seriously? Half the time the lights on it are burnt out. It's the but end of a lot of jokes and do you really think the tourists appreciate the mockery even more of having picked such a terrible place to come visit?

No.














We're a tad ilitterate.. wait, illeterate... no wait, illitraeta?














We're frigging lazy. Like seriously, is the only point of a porta-potty in the middle of the bridge just to make a place to go to the bathroom betwen McDonald's binges?














This is our idea of a mountain. No joke. Forget the Rocky Moutains here. That's (^) our Rocky Mountains.

All in all, Saint John is so damn awful that we grew tired of taking pictures of what makes it suck. Actually, we took one more.

While we were resting from the pure fatigue of it all, Maria, in an act of bravery, decided that it was all just too much for her and that she would rather be hit by a train then live in Saint John a minute longer.














How would you like to live in a city that caused you to contemplate suicide like poor Maria here?
Saint John, and it's overwieght, rude, illiteryate residents need your help! If you think Saint John sucks, or would just like to tell me how much you've loved my blog over the past year, the leave a comment below!

Thank you all!

Expect a post by the middle of next week, entitled; Nova Scotia Company Family Vacation: A Horror Story, complete with real photos!

Wednesday, August 17

with more hate and hurt then before

I hate you for what you did to me.

That's the first time I've admitted that. I knew I 'hated' you, I knew I despised you, and wished the worst upon you, but I could never find the words.

Someone told me that I keep everything in to the point of explosion. I know I do. I just want to cover up my sadness with a mask of smiles. I want people to look at me and think that I am happy and having a good time. I don't like being the type to mope or make a fuss. I think that if I go out and party or get drunk or have a good time, that my momentary happiness will be better than my overall misery.

Back to hating you...

You changed everything. You know that, right? I trusted you. I let myself trust a male, for the first time, seriously, in a long time. And you betrayed my trust... And you made me feel the fool.

And I covered the pain by acting like it didn't bother me. And I went out and met new and more exciting boys to get you out of my head. Which only lead to more problems as I've found out boys can. And now I'm back to square one, with more hate and hurt then before.

I don't think I can ever trust a guy again. I can't believe them when they tell me I mean something to them. I won't listen when they say they care about me. Or that they think there could be a relationship between us.

I know it wasn't that long ago, but it feels like forever.

I'm trying. I'm trying ok, to let it all out. This is my feeble attempt.

I can't think about you without crying. And I can't hear your name without having my breath catch in my throat.

You hurt me far worse then you can imagine. Far worse then I thought it was possible to hurt me.

And you moved on, and left my broken self lying here. And my idea of moving on is forgetting about it. That's all I know how to do. When people just walk out of my life, I try to forget about them. To tell myself that I didn't need them anyways. I've done it before...

I don't want to talk about it anymore. I don't want to talk about you. Or any other guy that I've felt something for this summer.

I tried. But I can't let go. And I can't move on. All I can do is what I'm doing. No matter how many people I hurt in the process. It's the only way I know how to rid myself of this feeling. This hate that's taken over and spread.

I'm sorry. But I hate you more now then I did a week ago, and in a weeks time, I will hate you double what I hate you now.

Monday, August 8

one little candle

Grasping my newest John Grisham and freshly updated iPod, I head for the bathroom in search of a long hot bubbly escape.

I run the water, cooler than usual, avoiding my cuts and scrapes. I lock the door, wanting no disturbances, which in my household is a rare feat in itself.

I drown out the world, drown out my thoughts, immerse myself into somewhere else entirely. I know it only works for the moment, like alcohol or toxins, but in the moment, everything is fine and I am ok...

A knock at the door. I sigh, take off the headphones and wrap the towel around me tight.

"What do you want?" I demand into the face of my mother.

"Why did you lock the door? You never lock the door. Is everything alright? How are we supposed to get in to use the bathroom?"

"You're not."

"What's wrong? You look upset. Are you sure nothings wrong?"

"Nothings wrong."

"Well then why did you lock the door?"

"Damnit mom, I just want to be left alone for like a half an hour! Can I do that? Please! I stayed home and cleaned all damn day for you and now I have to stay home again tomorrow to babysit for you, can't I just have a half hour in the tub?"

"Stop acting so annoyed with me Katelyn, I'm being reasonable here, you're the one acting out of control."

"Of course I'm out of control! Get out and leave me alone! Half hour, that's all I'm asking! Get the hell out mom!"

I slam the door in her face.

Knock.

"What?!" I yell, yanking it open.

"Did you eat today?"

"Yes mom! I ate today! I'm fine alright! Leave me alone!"

"You don't look fine."

"I'm fine!" I yell, pushing her out. "Go the hell away, I don't want any phone calls, I don't want anyone in here, just leave me the hell alone for once!"

She turns and looks at me funny. "You're pale as a ghost and your pupils are huge."

"Mom! Frig I'm upset because no one will leave me the hell alone!"

She ignores me. "You're not telling me everything. Are you on drugs? Are you stoned?" She peers into my eyes. "You've been smoking weed, haven't you?"

"Get out!" I slam the door again, locking it and ignoring her persistent knocks entirely. "I'm not some fucking drug addict mom," I yell. "But I'm going to end up one if you don't leave me alone!"

A simple half hour of quiet. In a house of three, two, discluding me, it shouldn't be so hard. I can't take this anymore... Even when I am alone there is no quiet, there is no rest from the constant rush of thought.

Why do things work out this way? Why, no matter how much I 'ponder' do things seem to make sense? Although, what am I expecting? Some sort of newsflash while soaking in the tub? The answer to all my problems to be spelled out in the soap duds?

A single candle lights my room as I sit here, alone. The flame is so peaceful, so solitary, so strong and sure of itself, wavering only for a moment before righting itself again.

I wish I were a flame. A bit more bright. A bit more radiant. A bit stronger and a bit more sure of myself.

My mom was right. I'm not telling her everything. I'm not telling anyone everything.

I'm concealing it all to myself like my solitary candle, burning for my eyes only in the dark of the shadow.

Tuesday, August 2

i love it when it rains because then no one can tell that you're crying

Here's my r.i.p. to the part of me that cared.

well, here we say sneaker: a memoir on my wild night


So, my first night of work turned out quite interesting. After working straight from 2:00-11:30, cleaning, clearing tables, serving food, and working my little hiney off, Chantal had the bright idea to hit on this guy who was attending the banquet we were hosting. (By the way, the banquet was for the Canadian National Archery Something-Something.)

"Merci! Bon soir!" we called as diners left the gym, fattened up from the steak and lobster buffet.

"Hey buddy!" Chantal hissed over at the guy. "Hey you, come here! Where you from?"

"Uh, Saskatchewan." He mumbled. Aww, he looked shy!

"Oh ya cool. Hey, do you have msn?"

"What?"

"M.S.N., Do you have it?"

"Uh ya..."

"Well want to give it to me?"

"Sure. Let me just write it down..."

He did, and as he walked away all I said was, "I can't believe you did that Chantal! You're nuts!"

Later, while in the kitchens, two of the other waitresses came running in looking for us.

"Hey, blonde guy wants you! He's out there!"

"What?! What did he say?!"

"He said, 'go find those girls who wanted my msn."

We made up some excuse to not have to help out anymore, then went flying out the large kitchen doors.

"Be cool," I whispered, "Act cool."

We strolled casually into the gym where he still was.

"Hey," he called over to us, walking up. "What are you girls doing tonight?"

"Working..." We both said.

"Well, take down this number and give us a call if you want to come drinking tonight with me and some of my buddies back at the university where we're staying." he said, pointing the the number scrawled out on his forearm.
I tried to convince Chantal, but she didn't think it was a good idea. So we agreed on calling the boys later on that night and seeing how long they were staying in town.

Chantal did, and they asked us to hang out Monday night.

So around 6:30 last night I walked down to Chantal's and we primped and dolled ourselves up for quite a while.

"Dad," Chantal called. "Will you drive us to the McDonald's in Millidgeville? We're going to hang out with some friends."

"Mom," I said into the phone. "Me and Chantal are going to the late show tonight, so I'll be home around 12:00."

"Hey," I said into the payphone about 20 minutes later. "Can we have a cab come to the Millidgeville McDonald's, heading to the University? Thanks."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"That's him!" Chantal yelled, hopping out of the cab. I quickly paid the driver and jumped out after her.

We followed Blondy (Brock) into the university and to the living room area close to his room. We were supposed to wait there for the other guy (Nolan) to show up, but he ended up taking for-ever. So we just sat around having random conversation, then Chantal ended up getting Brock to show us him dorm room, which was absolutely packed full of archery stuff, like bows and arrows and whatnot.














Brock demonstrates...

"Ew, what's that?" Chantal asked, pointing to a bottle of brownish colored water on the sink.

"Water, from your harbor. It smells pretty bad, wanna whiff?" He offered, holding it out to us. It did actually smell reaaalllyyy bad. I declined.

"Aww, You kept this?" Chantal asked again, picking up the lobster fork from the banquet dinner.

"Ya, souvenir."

"Well, we need to give you something to remember us by then!" I said.

"Here, sign this." He handed me his hat.

We both signed it, quite nicely, underneath, then we all decided to walk over and get the other guy because he still hadn't shown.

I paused for a moment while we were walking down the hall and Chantal and Brock kept walking. I turned the corner to follow them and came face to face with frigging make-out 2005!

"Jesus!" I yelled, scaring them both. "You guys just met!"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We got to the other guy's room and demanded that he got up and came out with us. Well, first we raided his fridge for popsicles, pizza and fruitopia.













Nolan and me.

"So, what are you kids doing tonight?" Asked some random guy, I had no clue who he was.

"Trying to find a way uptown!" I said, "Do you like, want to drive us there?"

"Sil-te-plait!" Chantal begged in French. (We'd soon found out that our French was quite astounding to these Saskatchewan folks.)

"I guess so, I have to go into town anyways."

"You're my new best friend," I yelled, almost hugging him.













Pat, my new best friend.

We all piled into the rental car, Nolan calling shotgun, and drove like frigging wild nuts out of the University parking lot.

"Wow, you drive like a fucking freak!" I yelled. Chantal nodded beside me. "I'm putting on my seat belt!"

"This is how we do in Saskatchewan eh!"

We got dropped off at the harbor Passage and walked from there to the board walk.

Then we:

-Went down to the dock-thingy and made funny movies in French.

-Had our group picture taken.













Me, Nolan, Chantal and Brock.

-Chantal and Brock got back to getting it on.













Muah, Mauh!

-Brock and Nolan insisted that we take their picture by the moose.













G-G-G-G-units!! (From Saskatchewan!)

-We then went on a search for a place to go pee. This brought us down around Saint John high and a random tour led by me and Chantal, until we came to the Opera Bistro. Fate had it that the girl working there also worked at the banquet with me and Chantal and let Brock use the bathroom.












The Opera Bistro was quite nice.

After that a lot of randomness ensued. We walked from uptown to the cathedral, (Which Nolan and Brock thought was pretty damn cool.) Then we walked over the sky-pass thing and showed them the North End. Chantal and Brock made out a bit more and then they decided to ride around in shopping carts.

My favorite Moment of The Night:

Chantal: Aww, don't walk in the grass Brock, your sneakers will get wet.

Brock: Sneakers?!

Chantal: Sneakers! The things on your feet!

Brock and Nolan: (while hysterically laughing.) You mean shoes?!

Me: No, shoes are like the category, sneakers are what you guys are wearing.

Brock: In Saskatchewan, we say shoes. But now we're going to say sneakers haha!

I also learned that "I'm going to beak ya for that." Means: "I'm going to make fun of you!"

All in all, it was a pretty nuts night. That's what I love about ya Chantal! You make me do stupid stuff haha, and your mom said I was supposed to be making sure you were good tonight!

Oh Well, I know you had fun...

Lots and Lots of fun.