Midnight Impulse

learning experiences and impulsive decisions


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Firsts are always the worst

So today I went on that ski trip I wrote about last week.  I got a very basic 15-minute lesson from my history teacher who loves the outdoors (which was incredibly embarrassing because I couldn’t stay on my feet).  He decided to get me and another girl a trainer while he took care of supervising my friend Skillet, who’s apparently skied once before.  I was upset about this at the beginning because I was slowing everybody down and I felt like I was being gotten rid of, but in the end I was really glad I was put with an stranger to give me lessons rather than my teacher whom I have to see everyday.

I.  Was.  Awful.  My god.  I wasn’t afraid of falling but my rented ski boots hurt like hell, my rented helmet got sweaty, and I found out the extremely painful way that I have zero leg muscle.  My thighs and calves were on fiiiirrreeee.  I have to say I’m proud with the fact that I didn’t fall down once when I was with the instructor (which I joked about later with History Teacher [here on out HT] saying, “I stopped falling once you left).  I can’t say the same about the part where I threw myself down into the snow because I was too tired.  Eventually my non-leg muscles hurt too bad and the instructor suggested I walk down the slope.  So I’d skied a third of it and walked the rest.  *Sigh*.  Overall, I didn’t NOT like it and I definitely didn’t hate it.

Later at home in the shower I realized this was basically my first time actually skiing, which reminded of the truth that I live by: The first time will always be the worst.  The first time you drive, first time you play an instrument, your first kiss, and your first ski session will not go amazingly.  It’s ok to suck.  You won’t be perfect from the start.

Also, all that stressing out I’ve been through over the last week over the fact that I don’t own a pair of snow pants wasn’t worth it.  I wore a pair of knee socks, leggings, and sweats on top and while those got wet, I was alright.  Waterproof gloves, however, are a must if you want to keep your hands attached to your wrists.  I wouldn’t have made it without a pair.

Trip highlights:

  • Skipping a full day of school on a Friday
  • Applying knowledge from my Conceptual Physics class into the real world (Physics teacher’s reaction when we told her: “You’re scaring me now)
  • Screaming out “FUCK!” in front of History Teacher when I fell for the third time

 

Goodnight, all.  I hope I’ll be able to walk tomorrow morn 🙂

xx, Addie

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Ski Trip — Clothing advice?

We’re going on a ski trip this Friday with the P.E. coach and the very attractive History teacher.  I’ve only skied once before, in the 7th grade, and considering that was the only and last time I went, you can tell it didn’t go too well.  Anyway, class trip and hot teacher and inexperienced skier.  I have no idea what to wear (#GirlProblems).  I’ve been asking my more experienced friend and she’s saying as long as I can keep warm, it’s fine.  I don’t own a winter jacket or ski pants or thermal underwear as the internet says I should.  There’s really no point in buying all this stuff if you’re only going once though, right?  People keep saying the plae we’re going to doesn’t have any clothes rentals, and even if they did, most probably wouldn’t even fit.  Gah, this is such a middle school-y problem to worry about.  I guess I just don’t want to embarrass myself and I always feel especially self-conscious when my clothes aren’t fitting properly, let alone constantly falling over because I can’t SPORT (any and all sports.  Can’t do them).

*Sigh*.  Plus there’s an odd number of skiers that I’m close with.  It’s five of us girls, and two know how to ski and me, my friend Skillet and another girl, my definitely-not-a-friend, are the inexperienced ones.  The not-a-friend is shoving her way in with Skillet and I’m not too happy with the arrangement.  Ski lifts have only two seats!  Ugh.

Excuse the childish post

Addie


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Unwanted Visitor

I would’ve never noticed the girl if it weren’t for my friend Skillet.  I sat down with my tray at our lunch table and she asked me how I feel having the girl there, jerking her head forward.  “Who?”  “_____’s sister.”  “She’s here?!”  I asked without turning around.  Apparently the older sister of a girl in my class had come for a little visit today.  She graduated last year and I’ve never been so glad to have someone leave my life.  She would glare and laugh whenever she came around me because–get this–of political tension between the two countries that we are from.  She refused to speak to me and made me feel like shit about myself the whole year.  I ended up drained over the summer, feelings of weakness coming over me every time I remembered her cold harsh eyes and the way I felt around her.

I thought I was over it, that I was stronger and could deal with her.  But immediately after understanding that she was sitting two tables behind me I got that feeling again.  My lungs felt constrained.  My breathing was just the slightest bit shallower, and my fork just that little bit less steady in my hand.  The only time I saw her face was as I was exiting the cafeteria.  And there she was.  Glaring at me from across the room.  Was this her constant state of being?  Was I the only person she ever looked at?  It seems impossible that literally every time I looked in her direction she’d be already there, her gaze fixed and full of hate.

She’ll apparently be here for my graduation (for her sister).  Fantastic.


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Pissed for no reason

I was upstairs in my room listening to some music when my mind decided to create a ridiculous situation where I get pissed off at my best friend for trying to give me “helpful” (critical) advice and one of my teacher for always saying I did my project wrong.  So now I’m sitting here all sour faced and angry at SOMETHING THAT NEVER HAPPENED.  I put myself in a bad mood because of an imaginary thought.  It’s like waking up after having a dream-fight with someone and feeling mad at them until you remember it was all a dream.

My existence is pointless these days.

I have 99 problems but apparently this fake one must now take full control of my mood.

Thanks brain.  Thanks a ton.

Adelaide


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All the Wrong Thoughts

School started today.  After having spent basically the entire break daydreaming about a certain someone, seeing him today for the first time reminded me that he’s a real person.  It’s a strange feeling, but it kind of hit me how he isn’t who I’m imagining, that he wouldn’t do or say the things I make him say in my head.  All this, however, came after I had to resist every urge in my body not to walk up and kiss him on the cheek.  WEIRDEST.  FEELING.  EVER.  It felt like the natural thing to do!  I wanted to walk up and greet him with a kiss on the cheek because he just looked so pretty that I could barely resist.  But I did.  I have no intentions of starting the second semester off with something that weird.

On some level I feel guilty thinking about his so much.  Isn’t it strange how you could think and think of a person and they’ll never even know it?  You can obsess over them.  You can wake up and go to bed thinking about that single being, imagine a whole life and a million scenarios with them … and they will have absolutely no idea what’s going on in your head.

I guess I feel bad thinking about him the way I do–he’s not mine.  He belongs to someone else at the moment.  And he can’t be mine.  If I was older or he was younger or if I was thinner at least.  *Sigh*.  My chest heaves when I hear his footsteps clacking loudly down the hall.  Making eye contact with him makes me nervous.  I am always suddenly and horrifyingly aware of how awkward I look just standing there, not knowing what to do with my hands, when he’s speaking to me.  I hang on his every word.  Today my hand brushed up against his and I noticed he has dry skin.  I’ve got some infatuation going on.  At the same time, I am not the least bit jealous of his girlfriend.  They make the cutest couple, and he’s always genuinely happy when he speaks about her.

Some days I wish I could be with him, others I want to just get to know him.  To unearth him and know all his opinions.  Every day, however, I wish him and his love interest (as he calls her) to have a wonderful future together.


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Church on Monday

The original Green Day song was titled “Church on Sunday,” but we’ll just have to make do with our circumstance.  Today, January 6th, we celebrated Armenian Christmas by going to church in the morning.  Christmas isn’t usually a big deal with my family because we do all the present-giving and food on New Year’s, so there’s never anything special left to do on the 6th.  We were planing to stay for the sermon for an hour and a half till 1PM, except it was so freezing cold inside we left forty minutes in.  We lit up candles in the–warm–candle room and went out for lunch in the city.

Now I can’t recall the last time I discussed faith or my opinion of it.  I’m not a religious person.  I was baptised and raised religiously but never managed to believe a word of it.  I found loopholes and a lot of things seemed completely illogical so I was always asking the adults around me questions they didn’t have the answers to.  I guess I “came out” to my parents a couple years ago, to which there was much uproar.  My mom is very religious, so she still sometimes tries to tell me interesting stories about miracles and how wonderful faith is.  I listen to her; I appreciate how she tries; and I respect her faith.  But I could never see myself being like that.  I think once you’ve already developed doubt in god it immediately disables you from ever fully believing again.  

I can’t make up my mind on what I do believe in.  A part of me hopes that there is some sort of afterlife, that death isn’t the absolute end…except I know in my mind that we are just organic bodies with no meaning or purpose other than to procreate.  And yet I believe everything happens for a reason.  I believe in reincarnation–the Before Sunrise version of it, at least.  It’s that in the beginning there were a number of souls, say a thousand, and as the population grew and grew, these souls split up over and over again and were placed into different people.  This explains why you meet people that remind you of others you know–or even yourself.  It’s that feeling you get when you meet a “a kindred spirit.”

This is where my confliction lies: I’m too logical to be agnostic but I seek too much meaning to be an atheist.  I should just refute my belief in everything outside of my own brain and take on solipsism.  That’s the coolest of all beliefs.

Sorry I’ve just put you through reading about my hippy-dippy personal mythology.

Take care and Merry Christmas,

Addelaide