It's Been... Awkward

Have you ever been out on a date with a girl?
A girl you knew wasn’t really your kinda girl? Maybe she wasn’t into the same things as you, or maybe she wasn’t into anything (not even conversing.) However, due to unwritten chivalry laws you have to pay for it, so you may as well have some fun with it. Yeah? Me too. Just noticing after a long day of nothing that it is Thursday and consequently, blog-day, I figured I would tell you about a couple of those dates. Story telling never fails. So, here goes:

It’s during Fall Production, or Cinderella for those of you not familiar with the Drama lingo, Kelsey Koegler and I decide we are going on a date (at least I call it that because I’m paying.) We sit down in a booth and after looking through the menu for a bit I say “Oh good, they have Veggie burgers!”

Pause

Have you ever told a story that ended in “I guess you had to be there?” Well then let me spare you the time and just say:

Resume

…I guess you had to be there.

Having a comical personality those stories kill me. They’re a disappointment to myself, and the (hopefully) expectant audience. It’s most likely a giant coincidence that the stories, along with the dates both ended in disappointment. I mean, sure a date with someone you've only talked to a couple of times can easily go sour. But it is very strange when the people whom you’ve known for a very long time, the people you’ve chosen out of the crowd, your friends, have an awkward time with you (or me in this case.) I can have normal conversation with my girlfriend’s parent’s friends and have it not be weird but just yesterday, I was with two of my friends and we had planned to go for a walk to the playground at Nicholas Sheran Park. The entire walk lacked conversation and the same amount of conversation continued when we were swinging at the park. Why can I have a normal conversation with complete strangers but I can’t strike one up with some of my best friends? It can’t be that we’ve run out of things to talk about because soon after we left the park the words were flowing like wine.
Now, usually when I talk about stuff like this (I guess you could call it “deep stuff.”) I’ll have something for you. Maybe an answer to the problem you might share. Or at least a suggestion. Things are different this time, I guess it’s not that big of a deal for me and hey, maybe it’s not a huge problem for you. Either way, I hope it was thought provoking.
If you want some advice, check out Cush (that link will only work if you have iTunes.) He’s a Podcaster that I can really listen to, he’s got a lot of great advice for everyone. I’m sorry if this was a disappointment…think of it as a date.

-Teck

We'll get 'em next week!

P.S. Well, I've been doing this for quite some time now and I'm very greatful that all of you read and continue to read. Thank you so much for spreading the word to your friends and, in some cases, your family. The spreading of the word is actually what this "P.S." is about. I would like to ask anyone who I don't talk to often or perhaps at all, please contact me through E-mail or MSN if you are one of the people who continue to stick with me. (Teck.88@gmail.com) I'd really like to chat with you! Thanks for all the support, we'll see ya next week!

An Example of Immaturity

A very long time ago a few friends and I thought it would be fun to demolish an older looking bike that was left in the field at school. I don’t remember if we knew it had an owner or not but destroy we did. And the next morning we found ourselves in the Principal’s office, being asked: “Why would you do that?” We walked out of the office with that question on our minds, a sour feeling in our stomachs. The question remains to this day, I don’t ask it of myself much anymore, as I have grown mature enough to see the stupidity.
You’re probably wondering where all of this is coming from as it was only a week ago when I was telling you how much you mean to me and how much I’m going to miss you. Well, my Sister had to fill out her second statement for the police at the age of ten. The first report was because of some creeper following her home (I’m just gonna go on record in my parenthesis here and say that 30 year old guys who’ve “got it” for a 10 year-olds need to be tarred, feathered and left to slowly waste away in a horrible death.) The reason for her second statement was because when she was playing at the park with her friends a group of kids came up and stole the cell phone she was carrying. When she confronted them they said they didn’t have it. Which was the truth, but only because they had shortly before snapped it in half and thrown it into the field. My sister ran to my Aunt and Uncle who were close by who went after them. My family didn’t catch up to them, however, the Police did and the foster parent of the hoodlums agreed to pay for the cell phone.
The 3 thirteen year-old girls, along with a boy of the same age, were able to feel superior to my sister 3 years their junior for about 10 minutes. And in return had to deal with the Police, owe us over $300 and will probably suffer the consequences over the summer, assuming the foster-parents know how to do their jobs. It is very unfortunate that these children are, most likely, from broken homes and that they probably have never really had a chance. I wish that somehow there were something someone could do to prevent kids having to grow up thinking that being rude is the cool thing to do. I feel like a father figure sometimes with my sister and I worry she might get caught up in that group that will, unfortunately, last until the end of High school (don’t worry, their powers start to wear thin as you get older.)
Since I’m pretty sure that the influence I have over people is very little, if at all and even then it is only over people who are within a two-year range of me, I won’t drive this point over and over again. But, if you are looking to have kids in the future I beg you to make them see that making someone feel less significant isn’t an accomplishment. Or who knows you might just be the Father/Mother of the next school bully.


-Teck

Edited: We worked it out!

Looking Back/Thank You

On my journey to Wal-Mart about an hour ago I was trying to come up with things to write about. I haven’t had much time to think with all the stuff that is going on right now in this last week of school. So I just laid out a list of events that have been taking place:

I just recently got back together with my girlfriend Marie, which is going great if you were asking. She seems shy but she’s just as much of a goofball as I am.
I am currently going through a rap phase, which, aside from thinking, was my main reason for the trip to my workplace. I had to have Dave Chappelle’s Block Party on DVD. I just recently bought the soundtrack to the movie, which led me on to by Phrenology by The Roots (Great CD check it out if you like good (not-corporate/gangster) rap music.)

But of all the things that shot through my head when searching for a topic to write on the one I kept coming back to was school. At first I didn’t really want to write about it because all of my sentiment had seem to be used up in “This Blog is Killing Me” but this is the end of grade school. It is the biggest accomplishment for many of us to date, what deserves to be written about more at a time like this? After twelve years of going to school we have finally come to the end. And I thought: what better a way to finish it off but a look back on what started me off on this journey into the unknown.

First Grade: I had Mrs. Ramage and begged to hear her telling of “Boney Legs” (the classes favourite book) everyday. This is where I learned my months and how to count to one hundred.

Second Grade: I had Mrs. Wayne, a Philipino woman wouldn't stop reminding us how hard a time she had in her homeland and felt it necessary to throw hyperactive kids against desks. She went on and on about how hard life was for people back in the Philippines, which I think is about all I learned. It was quite the opposite from grade 1.

Third Grade: I had Mrs. Tamara, a woman with soft-spokedness that rivals that of our own valedictorian. And whose biggest defence against acting up students was to yell her whisper of “Don’t do that” which was about as effective as the League of Nations (sorry, I wrote a Social essay today and I’m slightly stuck in the mindset.) I learned cursive writing.

Fourth Grade: I had Mr. Lorenz, a bigger fellow who taught most of his lessons using cartoons. Computers were introduced to our school about this time and the word-processors made my cursive writing obsolete, I would never hand-write again.

Fifth Grade: I had Mrs. Graham, a lady who you knew by looking at her, had to be a gym teacher. The woman illegally pushed her religion on us forcing us to say the Lord’s Prayer everyday after O’Canada. ‘Tis a shame I didn’t know what I know now, I could’ve saved myself the breath.

Sixth Grade: I was sad to have Mrs. Zazula because the other sixth grade teacher allowed his students to make model rockets, which they would shoot off at the end of the year. I quickly found out that the rockets were the only advantage to having the other teacher and found home in my wonderful last year of elementary.

Shortly following my graduation from Coalhurst Elementary School my family and I moved to West Lethbridge and I took up grade seven at Hamilton Junior High (HJH.) This was a very hard thing to do because the only person I knew was James Inglis, and he went home every lunch hour. I spent most of the beginning of the year riding my skateboard up and down the sidewalk to the side of the school at lunch. And retreating home to cry in my room after school. After a while though, I found my passion in the Drama room. I let it all hang out and performed the crap out of any part I received. Comedy is a wonderful thing and my ability to make people laugh quickly made me many friends I still have to this day.

After three years at HJH my friends and I moved across the field to the Lethbridge Collegiate Institute (LCI.) I met with many of my best friends in the first class I ever had at LCI: Drama. And in that very same class found the inspiration to follow the path of a Drama teacher. Over the years my classes in Drama taught me to be more outgoing and meet as many people as possible. It brought me the life lesson I will always live by: Don’t care what other people think about. In my time at LCI I have completed many courses, learned many things and met so many fantastic people. Thanks to you guys I’ve come from knowing no one to knowing everyone, mind you it did take me 6 years. Thank-you to everyone who has ever taught me anything, or made me laugh or laughed at me. I will not forget any of you who have changed my life even a miniscule amount. High-School has shown me such a wonderful time and I write this in hopes that after I sign your yearbook tomorrow and the connection is broken you will know how great a time you’ve given me. At the risk of repeating myself: I Thank You.

-Teck

From the bottom of my heart

Think Before You Get Hit By A Chair

I am currently in the process of finishing off my last Social class ever. Throughout my Social 30 class this semester Mr. Gnandt has walked us through the material and every once in a while poses a question to the crowd of students. After about ten seconds of silence he will move on, answering the question for himself. The trick is that in the ten seconds many people become uncomfortable and will be more likely to shout out an answer they were too nervous to put forth before. This mind game is, at times, very useful in helping me understand the concept better thanks to the occasional intelligent answer. However, more often then not the person speaking, as well as the words coming out of their mouth are highly insignificant and only hinder my learning experience.
The following is a near-accurate version of something that has happened in Social 30:

Mr. Gnandt: So you think that the media gives you the knowledge you have about places outside Canada?

Idiot: No, the media doesn’t control what I know and don’t know about other countries.

…

You are either a complete moron or you travel all over the world catching up on current events in the time that you aren’t feeding me and my peers bullshit in Social class. I will assume the former as, if you were rich enough to do something like constantly fly around the world you would probably have a personal tutor and I wouldn’t have to worry about holding back my constant urges to hit you with a chair every time you open your mouth.
Now, since I’m not the greatest when it comes to Social I don’t answer many questions and I am not tortured as much by a stupid answer (mostly because I couldn’t do much better, unless the answer given, after peeling my head off of my desk, was “I wasn’t paying attention.”) I feel bad for those people who know the answer better than anyone but keep it to themselves. For example: I sit by our Valedictorian, Alix, and wonder what goes through her head when Mr. G throws out a question to his half-conscious audience. Maybe she’s sitting there thinking about whatever the hell she wants, (she is already graduating at the top of our class, putting in hundreds of volunteer hours and getting perfect marks in gym 10, all the while making time for her friends) she deserves it. Or maybe she’s answering the question in her head, and with her being the “soft-spoken valedictorian” she is her answer is rarely heard by anyone but herself. But more likely than not, she is wondering the same thing as the rest of us: How hard do you have to hit someone with a chair before they shut the hell up?

-Teck

She doesn’t need protection

This Blogging is Killing Me

I have been writing this blog for quite some time now (off and on.) Just for you (Jamie Hynes)! …Well, for you and just a tiny bit for myself, because here I can bitch about whatever I want and you will read it. Now I don’t mean to make you feel bad or anything, I love you! But with all this time spent, my column style writing has improved and, unfortunately, my essay writing is fading away. Recently in Social Studies, or as my wonderful teacher Mr. Gnandt calls it Life 101, I was handed the task of writing an in class essay to shape myself up for the final exam. This didn’t worry me much at all. Since “Let’s Talk Teck” began I’ve been writing more than ever so it should be a simple task! Or so I thought... My predictions were proved wrong as soon as my first few lines hit the digital paper.

” Conflict is inevitable, whether it is in the home between two siblings and a video game, or two countries fighting over the better ideology. Although the response in aggression is quite different (you wouldn’t put missiles in Cuba with your finger on the button saying ‘Just give me the controller and no one gets hurt.’)”
-Excerpt from the essay ‘Don’t Kill Over Spilt Milk’ By Terry Ecklund

SEE! I can’t help but write that way and I can’t wait until it’s the only way I’ll need to write. And since I am now, according to a slip of garnished paper, “eligible for graduation” it seems that time is approaching quickly. Yes! I “graduated” on Saturday and spent the whole week previous at Grad parties, which were quite Saucesome (especially for Cougle.) For some, the week was very hard to get through, what with the drinking and having to get up the next morning for school. However, in my case it was the complete opposite. I have been more tired this past week going to sleep at 11:00 and waking up at 7:10 than I did going to bed intoxicated at 12:30 and waking up at 7:00. Maybe I should just get drunk every night…
But I have to say: I realized during Grad Week that of all the things I’ve been through nearing the end of my High-School career (my last physics exam, my last time performing for LCI or my last Scandal Filled High-School party), in twenty years you will be all I keep in mind.

Thanks for making these years so easy to remember.

-Teck

Parents pass the make-out tent