Allison

Alas , it is upon us.
Christmas day.
My fourteen year-old brother gets so excited about christmas he makes himself sick. It's insane. I told him that this year he couldn't wake me up until after eight-forty-five. I need my sleep , you know.
Christmas also brings the never-ending stream of relatives. Don't get me wrong , I LOVE my family , and I'm very glad that everyone is happy and healthy and all that good stuff...but holy shit.
I cannot be related to these people! I simply CANNOT.
My grandmother on my mom's side , bless her heart , is a maniac. And a clean freak. Oh my god.
When she is here I feel like I can't even LIVE. Everything I put down she is rearranging and moving around and it gets to the point where she is practically suffocating me. She also tells me the same things like fourteen times (She'll say "Did I tell you that Jennifer is pregnant?" and then even if you say yes , she'll tell the whole story again).
My mom's dad is just....oh god.
He tells corny jokes CONSTANTLY. I mean CONSTANTLY. And when he's not doing that he's arguing about politics/controversial matters. I don't know really , my mom's parents are really great and stuff but I can't handle it for prolonged periods because they are always RIGHT THERE! IN YOUR FACE! And I love them and all but I'm sixteen and I need a little space and privacy of my own , y'know?
My grandfather likes computers and him and my dad are always messing with them and he wanted to come up and look at mine.
Thing is , he didn't ask if he could.
I don't have anything really scandalous or anything , but I leave my messanger on and the last thing I need is him talking to my friends or my friends talking to him thinking it's me. I also write a lot (fiction) and I love doing it but most of it is stuff I don't want people to read (ESPECIALLY parents/grandparents) just because there is swearing or sex or whatever and just generally stuff they won't approve of.
It stresses me out because ever since I was little I was always "the perfect child". Good grades , nice friends , sweet , kind , "All-American Girl" kind of thing. See , then I got a bit older and formed these magical things called OPINIONS. Them there things are DANGEROUS. And besides that , my friends are into a lot of stuff my parents and everybody else doesn't know about , and even if I don't do it , it's still a part of my life and they wouldn't approve even if they knew my friends did it.
I don't want to get killed/disowned/rejected/yelled at , etc , so I just kinda sit around and be quiet most of the time because my grandparents are like pressure machines.
"You should be a model!"
"Why don't you have a boyfriend?"
"You know, nobody will marry a girl who doesn't know how to [insert household duty here]"

I just keep my mouth shut because if I said what was in my head they would slaughter me. They are so old fashioned. They think I am the antichrist because I watched Queer Eye for the Straight Guy.
How terrible.

My dad's parents aren't so bad. They're a lot more open (and give us a lot more space). I still don't ramble on about my own thoughts in their conversations because they're much stricter with what they do believe in , and they're kinda mean.
I see a lot of myself in my dad's dad , which is weird because nobody else would say that. He doesn't say much either during family gatherings because I think he doesn't want to offend anyone.

I hate not saying anything and getting involved , but they are my family and I have to live with them for the rest of my life (or , well , the rest of theirs) and I'd really rather not get in a huge feud about my opinions because they're still all under the firm belief that I'm that goody-good sweet little girl I was when I was six.

So maybe that makes me a bit of a wuss , or a lot of one. But that's me. Someday I might just lose it and go psycho. I almost did when my grandfather was poking around on my computer.
It's practically a diary. That is MY stuff. My writing , my friends , my e-mails , and I mean , he just barges in and starts looking around for stuff.

My grandmother pokes around my room too. Looking in drawers for stuff. When I was fourteen I pretty much said "Look , you old crazy woman , stay out of my room and quit messing around with my stuff!!" I like my privacy. I like being able to write stuff or draw stuff or whatever and be able to have faith that people who aren't supposed to see it , don't see it!

But yeaaah...it was a good Christmas anyway!
I hope everyone else had a very happy holiday , whatever you may(or may not) be celebrating.
-Meekah

PS- LJ-Cut for the 2004 Survey.
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Take the Quiz and build your portrait!

Wow...that was fun.
-Meekah

Ten Things about me You Probably Wouldn't Know
1. I can't sleep without a bra on. It makes me uncomfortable.
2. Likewise , I can't sleep wearing socks. Ick.
3. 85% of my friends went to the same elementary school as me.
4. I cannot wear flip-flops. They hurt my feet.
5. I hate doing homework and hate studying , so if I can avoid it (especially studying) , I will. I wonder if I actually started doing all my homework and studying , if my grades would suddenly skyrocket. The problem is , that involves a lot of work.
6. When I was younger , I was paralyzingly afraid of dogs.
7. I hate milk. Unless it is in hot chocolate , I will not drink it.
8. I am addicted to butter mints, reese's puff cereal , hot chocolate , and goldfish crackers. (And just junk food in general). I can't help myself.
9. I often wonder how one is to get a "sense of style" , because I think being a stylist would be a deleriously fun job , at least for a day.
10. I graduate next year , and I have not got a CLUE what I want to do once I am through with high school.

And now , my friends...I have to go finish my homework which I have been trying to avoid.
Goodnight....!
-Meekah

Meekah's Adventures in Men
(Sounds like some sort of Sex-and-the-City-esque thing , doesn't it?)

Anyway , I was attempting to go through all my old entries and find out what episode number this would be , but I'm to impatient to do that...so...well , no more episode numbers. Anyway , I have a few little stories to share.
The Cowboy
Over the summer (Yes , this is LONG overdue) I went out to the Calgary Stampede , which is well , the stomping grounds of hundreds of thousands of Meekah's fantasies. (Cowboys. God damn cowboys and their hotness) so , well , it was a very good trip.
One day , she and her mom and her mom's friend were sitting in the arena , watching the cow-cutting (meaning herding-like activity , not slaughtering like I thought when I read the pamphlet) competition. Anyway , half of the arena was the competition , and the other half was where some of the other cowboys were warming up.
Along the fence closest to the bleachers , one cowboy and his horse were standing. And the horse was freaking gorgeous. (For a horse nerd like me , it's a big deal) so , I decided I would walk over and pet the horse. (It was Piebald (meaning , white with black spots , like cows) Very pretty horse , so I walk over and ask the cowboy if I can pet his horse.
Very pretty cowboy , too. He was about my age , and yes , wearing the tight jeans and the western style shirt and cowboy boots and hat....which made me a little weak in the knees.
So he says yes and we were just talking (about his horse) meanwhile I am STARING at his massive belt buckle (and yes , I was actually looking at the buckle because I wanted to know what it said).
Me: "Where'd you get that"
He gets all blushy. "I won it"
Me: "Where?"
Him: "Here last year"
Me: "Pretty impressive"
Him: "Thanks" (More blushing).
Very sweet guy. So then he decides it's his turn to ask questions.
Him: "So...are you a rider?"
Me: "Yeah"
Him: "I could tell. Girls who ride are always hot"
And that , my friends , is when I almost fell over and died. I also knew that was a really unattractive option , so I decided blushing was probably a better way to react.
So I found out he's from Montana , which is , unfortunately , a long way from where I live. I also never found out what his name was. But what a nice boy he was.
I love cowboys. Have I ever mentioned that?

And now , for my latest addition...
The Guy at the Shelter
For background , I am taking a co-op placement at an animal shelter in my town. It's really fun and I love working with all the puppies and dogs and seeing them all go to new homes.
However...there is a guy there...let's call him Bill , for privacy's sake.
He volunteers there most of the time , meaning , out of the four days a week I am there , he will be there at least two of them. Unfortunately.
Not that Bill isn't a nice guy...just that , well , he creeps me out. He's at least nineteen , and about 6'5 , so compared to Meekah the midget , he is gargantuan.
So the third day I see him , we're just chatting in the kitchen and I'm folding laundry and he is handing up dog leashes. He makes one into a noose.
Him: "If I was ever going to kill myself , I think I'd hang myself.
Me: No response.
Him: (looks around room) "There's not many places to hang myself in here , though"
Me: No response.
Him: "I'd probably do it in the shed. Those rafters are pretty strong"
Me: No response.

And then , there was THURSDAY. Oh lordy.
I was bent over a bathtub scrubbing puke off of a puppy (what a glamourous job , eh?) and Bill comes up behind me (and I mean literally , RIGHT behind me. And well...I did not like the pelvic alignment of that positioning either , to be frank). And then he just starts trying to give me a shoulder massage which , um , wasn't at all relaxing and/or comfortable.
Him: "You're doing such a great job...." (He goes on and on)
Me: "Look , I'm working here. Don't you have something to do?"
Him: (Rejected look)
Me: "Didn't (boss) tell you to bring bags into the food room?"
Him: No response.
Me: "Did you just leave the food out in the parking lot?"
Him: "Well...I thought maybe , if you weren't doing anything important , you could come help...?"
Me: "Look , I've got four more puke-covered puppies to bathe , and then I have to blow dry them all. You're a big man , you can do it on your own"

Then finally he left. It was weird because he was RIGHT behind me the whole time. And on Tuesday he kept staring down my shirt , which freaked me out a lot. He really does creep me out. Frightening.

And that's the end of that. More stories of Bill to come , I'm sure.

I'd post longer , but I have nothing exciting to post about.
Hugs from the boring-lifed one!
-Meekah

http://www.marryanamerican.ca/

If only I wasn't a minor...

-Meekah

There are times in my life when I tend to dwell on odd things.
Today , it was hair.
I went shopping with my friends , who are all either crop-haired boys , or straight haired girls. And then there's me , the one always referred to as "the curly-haired one". I wouldn't be surprised if more than half the people I know refer to me as that instead of using my name.
It's not terrible , don't get me wrong. I love my hair.
But none of my straight haired friends understand me.
I don't have my ears pierced , but if I did , I could never wear dangly earrings and my hair down , because it would get tangled in the earrings.
Pullover shirts with buttons always get caught in my hair.
If I happen to swipe my arm past my hair when wearing a watch , bracelet , or a shirt with buttons at the cuff , something will get stuck in my hair.
Some necklaces are also an issue.
The even bigger issue is the drying factor. On a good day , my hair will dry in five hours. Don't even ask about on a bad day.
Products are also a problem. Like I mentioned , they have straight hair. They just don't understand.
If I try to hold something up to me and it's on a hanger , 9 times out of ten I will manage to get the hanger stuck in my hair.
And I hate that.

But in other news , the rest of my weekend is going to be comsumed with:
-Looking for a halloween costume
-finishing my homework (Need to find someone to interview)
-Cleaning my room , which is horrendously messy.
-Possibly studying for the genetics test on Wednesday.
-Finishing sewing a skirt I started in August.
-Making a batch of cookies.

I know I'm forgetting stuff. I'm a bit scatterbrained.
-Meekah

Fears:
-Fire
-Being Buried alive
-Knowing you're dying
-Being lost (in life , not on your way somewhere)

Other excitement in my life.
-Ongoing battle with the one known as Chunky. (She is previously refered to in friends-only posts , if it doesn't make sense). She is..well...an idiot.
-New battle with a different friend. I get the feeling that this person is addicted to tylenol , and I don't know how to bring it up without them getting really mad at me. Plus they lie a lot. People lie to me a lot , and I hate it.
-I watched Moulin Rouge and Chicago today. (For the first time!!). Most excellent!
-I'm co-oping (with school) at an animal shelter! It is so much fun. I love hanging out with the dogs. They are all really cute. There is this one big one who is the most adorable , yet stupidest dog ever. He doesn't understand that milk-bones are for eating. There was a big litter of puppies too , but they all got adopted. But it was fun while they were around!
-Waiting for a CD to come on from Amazon.com. I should have gotten express shipping.

Such is my life. Now onwards.
-Meekah

Back to school...sigh!

My classes aren't really too bad , but with Co-Op if I miss a SINGLE day , I lose 10% of my final grade! Yikes!!

English and Biology are good. My teachers seem okay. (It's only the second day , but...they aren't ripping anyone's heads off)

Blah! I'm just very blah today.
Must go study for Driver's Test. NOW!

-Meekah (Who knows nothing about road laws!)

PS- A longer entry soon. I'm just really...BLAH at the moment!

Sometimes I find inspiration in strange places. I wouldn't say I'm easily inspired , but watching anything on a stage makes me want to perform. And being purely just a shower singer (Much to my parent's dismay) , It is a solely closet desire.

Watching Sex and The City makes me want to fly down a city street screaming out the window of a taxi. Watching Queer Eye , What not To Wear , or any makeover show , makes me want to be a stylist. Watching the Matrix makes me want to kick ass , do backflips , and wear leather.

But sometimes it's other things that inspire me.

The summer after sixth grade , I had a camp counselor who was the most amazing person. She was so nice to everyone , always smiling , and just everything I wish I could be as a person , a friend , a sister , a daughter , or anything in between.


When my friends are upset , bawling , or depressed because of something a boy did , it inspires me to want to be strong enough to , if it were to happen to me , to get rid of the boy before it happens.

When I watch Finding Nemo , and laugh at Dory , or watch Comedy Central and see a hilarious female comedian , I am inspired to be that funny , or to see the humour in all situations like they can.

And when I read this quote , I was inspired in a totally different way.

"I really hate it when strange men on the street say "Smile! You'd look so much prettier if you'd smile." I always feel like saying "Get Hard! You'd look so much more useful if you had an erection!" -Cathryn Michon

It's quotes like that , and the many other like them that I have tacked up all over my room , my school supplies , and in my mind that I want to inspire me to be a strong , independant woman.

But at the moment , this Strong , Independant Woman's mother wants her to clean her room.

I swear , it is just parental. They just like to make their children clean. I mean , do you think they honestly care whether or not your room is clean? I mean , they don't even have to walk in it if they don't want to? I can keep the door closed , and she'll never have to know it't here.

And yet , she acts like her life will be outrageously improved if my room is clean.

So , as I was beginning to clean my room , I found the University and College information packets I started collecting earlier this year in hopes of figuring out what it was I wanted to do.

I still have no idea. Sometimes I get to thinking about studying writing , journalism or that kind of thing. Other times I'll want to study science , like biology , chemistry , or forensics. Sometimes I want to be an engineer , other times , an artist , a publisher , a sculptor. Maybe a fashion designer , even though I have absoloutely no sense of style. Sometimes I wish I had the talent to be on Broadway , or any theater , the charisma for TV , or the wit to have my own column in some magazine. Maybe a photographer , covering fashion week in new york , or travelling the world with national geographic , or taking pictures at someone's wedding. I could be an interior designer , designing people's homes , or planning stores and restaurants.

And it's only after thinking about all of this , I think I should just run off and join the circus.

I wish it were that easy!

-Meekah