The Things I've (Grudgingly) Learned.

     No one likes to admit they've learned their lesson. The only reason they ever do is either because they're forced to, or to willingly appease others. But it's never for themselves. Lessons are hard to learn, and when we have, often times we don't even want to voice aloud that we have; mostly, I believe, do to the fact we are embarrassed that we even HAD to learn. Lord knows, humans are terribly proud creatures.

     And no, readers, this is not an arrogant rant about how I've "changed" all my friends with my righteousness and other assorted bullshit, this is a grudging acceptance of the lessons I have recently learned, or the value in those I was previously taught.

     Lesson One, that I would have NEVER thought would ever have any merit to it, was one I learned in High School. I actually learned it from Show Choir, in high school. A small side note--REAL show choir is not like glee, it is a hell of a lot harder. Don't knock it 'till you try it, yeah? But anyway, this lesson I learned, standing on stage--front and centre--during a six hour rehearsal, tears of sheer frustration, stress, and rage streaming down my face. Not one person said a Goddamn thing to me about it. No, allow me to correct myself. The choreographer at the time, while measuring our placements on stage, glanced at my face one time, and then snapped to the lot of us: "SMILE!"

     Is it selfish of me to believe it would have been kinder for her to have asked what was wrong? Perhaps. But it wasn't that moment I learned the full extent of the lesson. It was a few days later, when in the office of the choreographer and organiser, that I was given this advice: "If you smile, no matter how bad things can seem, they will feel and seem better, just because you are smiling." At the time, I was offended. I still am. Because of the stupid show choir competition, in which you are graded on your smiles, this is the advice they gave me for my life's problems. Oh yes, I'll keep this in mind if I get hit by a car. When the frenzied driver comes out to see if I am alright, in between coughing up my own blood and attempting to move my mangled legs, he will see me smile, because that will make the situation so much better.

     Alright, so I'm a tad bitter. And melodramatic. But you all knew that anyway. That lesson, better worded by Liza Minnelli, (Smile, though your heart is breaking) actually rings true. Just as at each show choir practice I would slather a grimace on my face, red with anger and exhaustion, each day I make the effort to smile. Not that I'm depressed, or even sad most of the time. But a smile does more for everyone else than it does for me. It can reassure a friend, or an old woman looking weary while passing you on the street. It can inspire or spread to others. Not going to lie, it can also confuse, embitter, and irritate people, but at least you are, in some small way, inspiring them to feel something.

     An added note, this is not a dig at show choir. I thoroughly enjoyed the experience, it is just VERY demanding to one's schedule and sanity. Join knowing this, and you will survive.

     As for the lesson I've been recently taught? Being open to the sexual orientation, ideas, opinions, and life decisions of others does not necessarily make you open-minded. Taking an open interest in trying things does. Both are a form of open-mindedness in some sense, but you need both to truly be so. Sometimes you may be surprised at yourself, and things you may actually like.

     Just one more added note. I have a lot of friends that I would call close. I love them all. I sometimes whine about the lengths I go to in order to be with them. I did myself a favor and listened to all the things they do to be around me. I was humbled beyond belief. My friends mean so much to me, and I can only hope they can stand me as long as I want to be their friends. I can't always understand their decisions or what they are going through, but I can always try to be there for them. All I can do is the best I can do. In this world, love may come and go (GASP! Chloe, you are a romantic and believe in true love, what are you saying?!), children, jobs, careers, passions, may be present or not, but if you don't have friends, you will never find nor make it through any of them. Make sure you are there for them so that they will be there for you (no matter how obnoxiously loud you try to learn a song on the piano in the room next door).

How I preach. Ugh. 

But I love you  guys. Shout out to mah Bruthahs.

Less than three (<3). 'Till next time.

Chloe.

The Non-Verbal Implosion.

     I am officially disgusted with the world. And more significantly than that, with my friends. I was never a very aggressive or assertive person. Come to think of it, I've almost always been the one to apologise. Very high self-confidence, very low self-worth, I'm afraid. I always feel as if I needed my friends far more than they ever needed me. Now I'm drowning in evidence of it.

     I am just so sick and fucking tired of bullshit excuses. I hate being late, I always have been. I'm a punctual person by nature, and, accompanied by my slightly impatient tendencies, my reactions to my friend's lateness become that much worse. I hate when they think they can pull that crap with me. If you think I'm exaggerating, I'll give you a few examples:

     1. Being made to wait an hour and forty-five minutes for someone in the Eaton's centre

     2. Routinely being forced to wait for my friends at meeting points to hop a bus together. Times ranging from ten minutes, to forty-fucking-five.

     3. Having a party time set for a certain hour, and then knowing none of your guests (despite the fact that they're your closest friends and have no where else to be) will be there for at least another two to four hours.

     4. No one having a clue what the fuck is going on when because either a) they don't answer their phones or call back after seeing that you've called or b) their stubborn refusal to check their goddamn email despite the fact you've told them to upwards of ten times verbally, and to their FACE.

     5. Having friends either be late to, or generally skip a presentation date at which--both of you being in the same group--they need to be. This of course either results in the losing of marks, or shortening of time in which you may present, causing further loss of marks because all of your information cannot be conveyed.

     6. Being regularly mocked to my face about my stern sense of punctuality and morality, while their excuses run somewhere along the lines of: "Oh, I run on African time!" this garners laughter from the other, much less pissed members of the group.

     Bottom line? I hate it. It makes me feel like shit. All that any of this says to me is: "Oh, I don't care about you enough, and don't even value you as a friend enough to have the courtesy not to waste your time. I don't take you seriously, and the world is obviously running on whatever fucking clock I want it to because I'm obviously more important. Plus, I just don't really want to see you all that badly. At all." Being late and apologising for it is one thing, especially if it only happens a couple of times. But when it is every single time, to the point where you just don't feel it necessary to apologise anymore, let me tell you something, you are damn lucky it's me you're doing this to, because I know not a lot of other people would take this crap.

     And I BEG you, do not blame your lateness on other people. If you're getting ready at someone's house, and they are notorious for being late, leave without them! Don't be a suck like me and waste your goddamn time. I would rather leave them behind even if they offered me a ride and took the goddamn bus if I knew they were going to make me late. Nothing is more disrespectful or outright insulting than being late. It really shows exactly how little you care.

     What's that? You're late because you don't know the bus route? FUCKING GOOGLE IT, BITCH! Nothing is stopping you from planning ahead--after realising you do not, in fact, know it--and searching it up so that you know. So that you don't get lost! Jesus Christ people, how hard is it to look up directions?

     Furthermore, if there's even an INKLING of a possibility that you can't make it, cancel one day in advance, at least. Don't call, no, scratch that, text the person an hour before you're supposed to be there that you cannot come. And if you're going to do that, at least have the fucking courtesy to call them and say it to them in your own words, why all their plans have gone to shit. You can't tell them just then? Fine. Email them or call them the next fucking day.

     Readers might think, in their minds at least (no comments, so I assume), "Wow. This girl really needs to talk to these people."

     Well, guess fucking what, This Girl is so annoyingly and completely afraid of confrontation she can't even say it to their faces. In fact, This Girl won't even dare bring it up for fear of losing the friends that obviously don't give two shits about her. Fancy that. Instead she has to vent and suffer silently on an online blog that no one reads anyway. Alone. Seeing red she's so blindly pissed.

     What's wrong with her? Oh yes, that's right. Nothing. She'd going to continue on with her perfect life, sitting up on her "high horse".

It sure is cold, and sure is fucking lonely.

Till Next time, when I'm not quite as blindly pissed, and after I've regretted posting this.

Chloe.