I hear a voice say don't be so blind. It's telling me things that you would probably hide.

Currently Listening To: Moist- Underground


I watched the movie Thirteen again for the fourth time in total. The movie is so disturbing, yet so realistic it isn't even funny. I can relate to so much of it, I can understand so much of it, but there are parts that I don't understand. How can someone at the age of thirteen go through those sorts of things?

I can't imagine doing the things she does at her age. Grade seven for godsake! When I was in grade seven I was playing with Barbies. Not getting my tongue pierced, or smoking drugs and drinking alcohol. I didn't even think about those things until the end of grade nine.

I suppose it has something to do with where I grew up. Living in Canada is a lot different than the states. And living in rural Cananda is even more different. I don't think I could live in the states. It's a lot more scary than I can even imagine.

My Mom made a comment about how my friend Stephanie turned out the way Tracy in the movie did. When I was living in Oshawa she was my best friend. We did everything together. Sleepovers, movie nights, shopping, everything. Wherever she was, I was. I sort of blame the way she turned out on myself. If I hadn't moved away she wouldn't have turned out so crappy.

I went to visit her March break of grade nine. She was smoking and it really made me look at her differently when I first got there. Of course she was hiding it from her parents. Oh god, if her step dad ever found out she'd be outta the house in seconds. I stayed there for the whole March break, my Mom let me, of course, it was Stephanie, sweet Stephanie, just like me! Wrong.

We went out to a friend of hers' house, and they started smoking up in her brothers room. Of course, wanting to look cool, so did I. We used a Bart Simpson doll to make a bong, burned a hole in the top of his head, stuck a pipe in his side, filled it a quarter of the way with water and away we went. Of course I had never been high before, so I kept asking "Am I high yet? What's it supposed to feel like?" And she answered that if I was reeaally happy, then I was high. Of course I was really happy, I was high.

Then a few days later we took the bus to another friend's house and hopped into a 21 year old guys car, picked up two more girls and drove to his house. He mixed us all drinks and we got drunk at his house. I don't remember who's idea it was, but we all decided to pack the three, three paper joints into a bag, the rest of the alcohol and hop back into his car and go for a drive. We were all drunk, so it sounded like a great idea. On the way down the apartment elevator, I found it funny to push all the buttons before we got off. (Minor detail I could never forget).

Anyways, we drove around the back streets of Ajax, stoned out of our minds, and drunk off our asses. Finally on our way home we were just hitting Oshawa when a cop pulled us over. Now we weren't speeding, and we didn't look suspicious, but there were four of us in the back seat of his car. Bad idea, there are only seatbelts for three, oh and look at that, none of us were wearing any. (I had thought about putting mine on, but when I couldn't get it to work I gave up. I didn't care right?) The officer said that he had to take one of us from the back home, because that way it was legal, and he couldn't just leave us like that. So my drunk ass friend, who had puked blood on the way home by the way, decided to raise her hand and say that we lived the closest! Grrr, stupid move. So we packed it into the back of the police car and he took our addresses and phone numbers, full names and parents names etc. I don't even think he noticed we were drunk or high. (Though I'm sure we stank! To this day I'll never know why he didn't catch us, or say anything). When he dropped us off my family was already there to pick me up. We were so out of it that we thought it would make the situation lighter if we had the police officer wave to her mom through the kitchen window. Duh. Anyways, when we got inside my little brothers, Mom, Dad, her mom, all there. I made a b-line for her room and sprayed myself down, and tried to calm myself. I packed my things and came out and there was my Mom and Stephanie hugging, her bawling her eyes out and my Mom telling her how much she loves her and how she needs to change her life before she goes downhill, etc. (Obviously it didn't help, or she didn't care because she is still the same way as far as I know. AND she isn't even living at home).

So the whole point of my story was that I can totally relate to the movie, even if the movie is 5 times worse. I suppose everyone is supposed to go through some sort of small stage in their lives where they experiment with something or another, whether it be alcohol, cutting yourself, drugs, smoking, lying, stealing, an eating disorder, what have you. So that's why I blame myself, if I hadn't of moved away she might not have gotten into the things she did.

But then Dad made a good comment too. He said maybe it was a sign that we lost everything and had to move away from Oshawa. That way I wouldn't have turned out the same way as she did. I mean it's not exactly a nice thing to say, but it's true. Maybe I would have. I'm not as strong as I am now. I mean, you're more easily influenced when your in grade nine, or seven for that matter.