Fear

~~*NOTE: THIS PESSIMISTIC TALE IS NOT FOR THE FAINT HEARTED! IT CONTAINS A SLIGHTLY CREEPY STORY! AND MY IMAGINATION! AND MY IMAGINATION IS NEVER GOOD WHEN IT COMES TO SLIGHTLY CREEPY STORIES! IT'S OKAY, YOU CAN READ THIS TALE IF YOU LIKE BECAUSE IT ISN'T ACTUALLY THAT SCARY BUT IF YOU GET SCARED OF SMALL THINGS, LIKE DOGS THAT BARK LOUDLY LIKE I DO, YOU SHOULD PROBABLY NOT READ THIS.~~*

So. I totally just scared myself. No, I mean I scared myself.* Literally. I was just sitting on the couch yesterday, minding my own business, reading a book and half listening to my Aunt's conversation with my brother and sister. So, I guess not really minding my own business. I zoned in when my brother began to tell a short story he read (I don't remember who it was by. Let me know if you want to know and I'll ask my brother) about this guy in an insane asylum? And this woman went to visit some relative of hers there, and she met the guy and she was like, why is he even here, he seems completely normal. And she asks one of the employees and they go: oh, yeah, he strangled a woman on a bike one day and he's been here ever since. So anyway, she goes home but she keeps writing letters and trying to get him out and stuff because she thinks he's sane or something? I don't know. Anyway, finally he is released from the asylum and he tips his hat and smiles and says goodbye to the employees and stuff and walks away all happy to meet the woman. And about 20 minutes later, he walks straight back in, still happy, still smiling and admits himself again. And down the street there's a strangled woman in a ditch! Spooky, eh?

Now, when I heard this, I was like: what a psycho! That's creepy. And then we got into a conversation about the Twilight Zone. But anyway. Like most scary things, that story wasn't so scary during the day time. But last night, it was super late and my sister and I were watching all these Gilmore Girls episodes (oh hush, I like the show, okay?) and she [my sister] goes: "I think I might sleep here tonight, (meaning the lounge), because I'm too tired to go back to my room and plus, that story today kind of freaked me out." WELL. Zoom, goes my brain, straight to that story! All the details flooded my mind! How happy he was! The strangling! The way he tipped his hat! And I just about freaked. Don't worry, I played it cool. Cool as a cucumber. Cool as a cat. Cool as a cucumber-eating Cat. Yeah, I just capitalized 'cat'. That's how cool I was. I was just like, "oh yeah, I might sleep here too because it's really comfortable here on my couch." But really I just didn't want to sleep in my room alone. So I raced to my room and grabbed my blanket and then ran back to the lounge room with my heart slamming against my ribcage and all I could think was 'holy crap he's right behind me and he's going to freaking strangle me and oh my Lord, I can feel his hands on my neck!' As you can see, I was a little over imaginative to say the least.

ANYWAY. So I set up a bed on the couch and just as I'm getting sleepy my sister gets up and tells me she's moving back to her room. Because she has this thing where she can't sleep unless she's on her bed. And there was no way in hell I was going to stand up and move back to my room because the guy would grab my legs and pull me under the couch. So I just said goodnight and stayed in the lounge. I thought it was no big deal. I could get back to sleep right? Hell no. I spent 30 minutes whipping my head around the room every few seconds to make sure nothing was going to eat me. Or strangle me. Or abduct me. Or murder me. Or whatever. So after about the fortieth time of practically breaking my neck from checking over my shoulder, I got the courage to move to the other side of the couch where I could see all around the room. I then spent about two hours keeping guard. It was probably around 3 or 4am when I finally dropped off. It was the scariest two hours of my life. I swear. My mouth was dry, my legs to shaking, my hands were clammy and my senses were like, ten thousand times more alert. But I'm still alive. I am such a survivor.

And here's the thing. The story itself isn't that scary. It really isn't. It was the details that freaked me out: the tipping of the hat, to be specific. It gives me chills. I don't know why. And the other thing was that I conjured up the image of the guy - in my mind, he is wearing a bowl hat and plaid jacket (God knows why) and...this is such a weird thing to write...he has no eyes. Yep. No eyes. I mean, where his eyes should be? Just black holes. And he's still smiling. TELL ME THAT DOESN'T CREEP YOU OUT. Why do I do that? I kept telling myself, don't picture him, don't picture him, don't retell the story to yourself, don't retell the story to yourself, picture daffodils, picture Bambi, picture daffodils, picture Bambi. And what do I do? I picture the guy. I retell the story. Daffodils what? Bambi who? What is wrong WITH ME? Eyeless??

Back to my first line, I literally did just scare myself. I went into the bathroom to wash my hands because I just made meringues* and my hands were sticky and I was thinking, oh, holy macaroons, if there are any holy macaroons out there please don't let him be in the ceiling watching me. And then I turned around and found myself face to face with myself in a mirror. I jumped about a mile and let out a tiny squeal. Therefore, I literally just scared myself. I can't believe I just told you a whole story and told you a creepy image just to end up with me scaring myself.

Anyway. I'm really sorry if I scared anyone out there. I know that might sound silly because I get so pathetically scared of such things but if I did, I apologize. Try not to send any excessive hate mail, 'kay? Again, sorry.

And on that super happy note, I bid you farewell.

P.S You know what is entirely weird? I think I'm actually going to read the story. My brother has it in his room somewhere. Why would I want to read a story that has scarred me for life?? I read somewhere that we watch scary movies and read stories because it gives us, like, an adrenaline rush? And its like a controlled fear? So I guess that makes sense. Because I have this theory that we need an adrenaline rush every now and again. And I'm too scared of heights to actually go skydiving or whatever even though it's on my List of Things to do Before I Die.  Look how important that looks, all bold and underlined and italicized. Read it in a booming voice, just for me, okay? Oh, right: I'm too scared of heights to actually go skydiving or whatever so I guess I need to read scary stuff in order to get my dose of adrenaline.

PP.S Do you think I'm crazy? For being so scared of this? And being scared that he gonna like, grab my ankles or watch me from the ceiling? I don't know. I have a really, really, super over-active imagination so maybe I just over-scare (word?) myself.

* I used a lot of italics and underlines and even a bit of boldness in this post because I really felt the need to show you guys the seriousness of my fear. Actually, I use italics and underline and bold and capitals a lot because I like the dramatic touch.
* I make super good meringues. Seriously.

Teachers

Oh, you guys - I am so sorry. Lately I've just been posting whiny/rant-y(?) posts. I just...have a lot on my mind so sometimes I just have to get it out, you know? I am sorry though, so please, if you are sick of my rants skip this post! This is an advanced warning!

So. Teachers. Two days ago my geography teacher gave me back my exam - 58%. Yep. I know, I'm a regular Einstein eh? Well anyway, he had one end of the exam and I had the other (as he was passing it to me) and he wouldn't let go. So we're just standing there like some kind of frozen tug-a-war and I'm giving him this look like 'can I have my exam or what?' And he gives me the most infuriating look and goes: 'Less novels, more geography.' Now, I don't know if I've mentioned this before but I am a big reader. I can read 2-3 novels a day. I absolutely love reading, and not just teenage books. I've been reading adult books and old books for a long time. So I guess I'm kind of well known for it in my year level. I bring books to school too, that's why my geography teacher knew I read a lot.

Now. Onto why that comment he made bothers me so much. What does he know about me? I'm just a face that he sees a couple of times a week amongst the hundreds of faces he sees every single day at school. It was really just the way he said it, so smug and warning (if that is possible)...argh, I can't explain. But what does he know about me or my study habits? I studied hard for geography. I'm not saying I did my absolute best, but I tried. I could have done better (see my post on studying for exams) but I did try. I learnt and memorized every single thing on his revision list. But geography simply doesn't interest me and things that don't interest me just fall out of my head. I  don't plan on taking geography next year and most of the things they teach us just don't matter. At what point in my life will I be held at gunpoint and told to label a diagram of a billabong? Yeah, okay, I get the whole general knowledge-current events thing but seriously? The stuff they teach is useless. And by the way, is that even allowed? Are you even allowed to tell someone to stop reading good literature?

Back to my teacher - I really can't explain. It just made my blood boil. Excuse me, but I did not read for two weeks in preparation for exams. Granted, I did not replace much of this spare time with studying but I certainly didn't read and that was hard for me. Reading is one of the few things that relaxes me and if you ask me, that's important in a time of stress...say exams?! And "less novels, more geography"? WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN? Does he mean prepare more for tests? Or does he mean in general, start replacing novels with textbooks! Explain yourself Mr.M because I don't understand. And judging from my classmate's scores, maybe our personal interests aren't the problem, maybe it's the teacher. (Ooh, touchy subject.)

Ahem. So that was the one account that really got me thinking. I was planning this post in class (no wonder I practically fail exams) and it sounded  a lot better in my head. But as soon as I start writing I just go off on a rant. Sorry. But teachers in general are really starting to bother me. Personally, I think the role of a teacher is more then just teaching. They are also role models. The role of a teacher has many factors:

"To actively promote inclusion, equality and diversity; to create a safe learning environment for all students; to work within the legislative requirements and codes of practice, all in the terms of the Teaching Training Cycle':
- Identify Needs
- Plan and Design
- Deliver
- Assess
- Evaluate"

If you feed a person's sense of curiosity and nurture that desire to learn then we will want to learn. If you present material in an engaging manner, ask us questions and let us THINK not regurgitate...then we will not stop learning. Having said that, my teachers just don't seem to be doing this. They teach us to memorize, not think.

Oh, man. I just reread that. I sound like such a bitch. This is coming across the wrong way - I'm not saying it's all my teachers fault. I take responsibility, I should have studied harder and put more time and effort in. And many teachers are good - great, in fact. I appreciate their time and effort and all. But...ugh, do you know what I mean? Some teachers just really...bug me. The way they treat students. For instance, I'm obviously having trouble in geography. But instead of blaming my love of literature why not just give me extra help in class?

Oh, I sound like such a whiny brat. I'm sorry. I really hope this makes sense.

See ya.

Exams

Guess who finished exams? ME! Granted, I can't say I'm confident about all of them but the point is they are over. No more. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Zero. Until, you know, November for end of years but whatever. So for the past couple of weeks I've been a little stressed. Because for the first week I was like: okay, time to study! I'm so going to ace these exams! But I couldn't bring myself to study. I can't explain it. I had nothing else to do, my books were set out, I was totally ready to study...and I just couldn't. I would open a textbook, read a line and just stop. Then I'd feel guilty about not studying and guilt is the worst feeling. I think my guilt-factor is a lot higher then others. For instance: my mother used to have a rule where we could only watch two television programs a day. One day, I watched ten minutes extra. I was so overcome by guilt I immediately went and told my mother who obviously didn't care and was kind of like, um, ten minutes? So? Anyway. So I felt really guilty about not studying.

As for the second week, well, that was actually exam week. This was the exam timetable:
Monday: geography and English
Tuesday: maths (technology free) and science
Wednesday: maths (technology active) and history
Thursday: french and religion
So. On the Sunday before exam week, I studied geography. To be honest, I didn't really study English because I can kind of get good marks without studying. I'm a real humanities person. Then on Monday night, I studied maths and science, Tuesday night I studied maths and history and on Wednesday night I studied french and science. Here's how I think I went:

Maths: fail, fail. I can't grasp the concept of maths, simple as that.

Geography: pretty good.

English: good.

History: good....but my teacher is an incredibly hard marker. The class average is fifty. I got 51% on my practice history essay. I don't mean to sound conceited, seriously, but that was a good essay. History is my best subject and I have to admit, I was a tad devastated with the mark. But I think I do pretty okay on the exam. As long as I'm in the class average, I can tell it would be a good score had any other teacher been marking it...does that make sense?

Science: fail. We did chemistry (oh, remember my post on chemical equations? Pretty much sums it up), motion and electricity. All of these topics are like maths and science combined. You do the maths....pun intended.

French: not great, but okay.

Religion: fine. Religion is like English.

Alright, I've been debating on whether or not to post this as it's pretty boring - I mean, it's just about my exams. That is kinda lame. However, it is my blog and I get to whine and brag if I want to, so suck it up! But because I am generous, here is a picture I hope will make up for the boring post:

Oh, like that didn't make your day. I think I'll do a post on Twilight some other time but not now because I'm lazy. But I have to say, I actually really like Robert Pattinson. NOT TWILIGHT. Do not misunderstand me. I like Cedric Diggory and Robert Pattinson. I'll explain further in the Twilight post.

Now I'm going to get something to eat and continue watching Clueless online.You know what I just realized? Her teacher is Vizzini from the Princess Bride! I totally love that movie!

Adios!

I hate being shy

I've been shy my all life. I mean, really shy. People always smile when they talk about being shy, like it's just a phase that kids grow out of. But to me it feels like having a mental illness. I'm so scared of what to say and if I say something wrong that I end up not saying anything at all. And if I do say something longer then a few sentences, everyone looks and is all: 'I've never heard you talk this much!' And it just shuts me up straight away and I feel painfully self conscious. And then I worry that people think I'm a freak or a snob or stuck up. It makes me worry to the point of stomach aches and anxiety. It's exhausting. I loose friends because of it. I barely talk to my family. Social events are agonizing. I can't be with people and I can't go off on my own because then I feel guilty for being so anti social. I feel hopeless.

Whenever someone at school talks to me, my stomach clenches up and my palms go clammy. It's ridiculous. I mean, it is REALLY RIDICULOUS. I'm fifteen. Fifteen. It's pathetic. I hate it, but it's not like I hate being alone. I feel lonely sometimes, sometimes it just hits me how alone I am. But in general, I'm okay. I'm okay with spending lunchtimes in the library and hiding from parties - but no one else is. People come up to me to start pity conversations, my parents tell me to talk to more people, my teachers say I need more self confidence on my report cards and that I need to speak up in class. I can't have a conversation with my dad anymore because he interrupts me about 5 words in to lecture me on speaking loudly and clearly. And he lectures LOUDLY and CLEARLY so everyone can hear and it's just awful. I wish people would just drop it. I'm shy. That's all there is to it.

I'm really not making sense, am I? I've felt that my shyness is causing me to miss out on life and friendships. And I have had many people assume that I am snobby because I'm shy, which hurts my feelings. I have a few friends but it's not like I eat lunch with them, it's more just class friends. And I mean, I loosen up with them. I'm okay when someone approaches me and I get to know them. I tend to surprise people when they get to know me - they never expect me to be sarcastic or 'crazy'. I think they like that side of me a lot better which makes me feel bad again. If I wasn't shy, how many more friends would I have? Friends who knew that side of me?

I have a hard time asking for what I want, speaking to strangers, expressing my opinion in class, and calling anyone on the telephone. I know that sounds sort of lame, but shyness is taking away my life. I can't do anything. I can't cope.

 Geez. I'm just sick and tired of being shy. It's exhausting.