The Three Types of Populars- and me!

Popular Girls

I can sort the ‘popular’ girls at school into three groups. There’s the Sporty Populars, the Snobby Populars and the Slutty Populars.

Characteristics of a Sporty Popular:

§  Good at sport (obviously)

§  Loud

§  Annoying

§  Talk to others in a patronizing tone of voice

§  Talks in class

§  Always orders around other kids, especially during sport

§  Rude

§  Think they’re amazing at sport (and everything else)

Queen of the Sporty Populars at my school: Abby-Rose (see above)

Characteristics of a Snobby Popular

§  Come from well known families

§  Parents are well liked, usually members of the school community

§  Complain about the school uniform

§  Have doting followers

§  Wear expensive make-up and clothes

§  Gossipy

§  Have high-self confidence

§  Outgoing personality

§  Bitchy

    Talk in class ALL the time

§  Can be attractive

Queen of the Snobby Populars at my school: Sammi (see above)

Characteristics of a Slutty Popular

§  Most are hot

§  Wears slutty clothes

§  Modifies the school uniform to look slutty

§  Blabs on and on about boyfriends

§  Bitchy

§  Wears a ton of make-up

§  Rude

§  Talks in baby-voice

Queen of the Slutty Populars at my school: Steph P (see above and times sluttiness by 1, 000, 000, 000, 000)

So why am I writing about this? I thought I should introduce myself a little, and what better way to introduce myself then talk about who I’m not.

Who am I?

I’m a bit different from most people. I’m socially awkward (like most bloggers), find it hard to express myself in person, have two friends (though I’m friendly with the Super Nice Nerds- I HATE the Super Stuck-Up Nerds) and belong in the tiniest friendship group in the school.

I call my friendship group.. drum roll... The Freaks. Coz we are. Kind of. In a nice way.

My friends are Thing One, Thing Two and Biffle. They are my bestest, bestest friends! Biffle is unfortunately in another country this year, but will be back next year.

Why are they freaks?

Thing One is freakishly tall- she's taller then all the students (and most teachers) in the school.

Thing Two is a freakishly smart... hell, she's a freaking genius! She's only 14 (she skipped a year and her birthday's in November, so she's not 15 yet) and she is doing year eleven maths (while she's in year ten), as well as advanced English and Science.

Biffle is freakishly into running. She wants to be a marathon runner in the Olympics. And let me tell you- she will be! Biffle runs approx. 5 to 10 kilometers every morning before school, and has training four times a week, after school. She whips butt at school cross-country and has broken all the cross-country records at our school- and our school is 138 years old!!! That's a hell of a lot of people, and Biffle's beaten them all!!!

So how am I a freak, you might be wondering... Who am I kidding? You don't need me to write down how messed up I am! It's kinda obvious... and if it isn't then I'm a better actress then I thought!!!

But, just for the hell of it, allow me to bare my soul to you!

I was admitted into a psychiatric ward when I was thirteen... Not much else needs to be said. I was admitted into a fucking psych ward!!! I won't go into too many details there, but it was a real low in my life... depression does that to a girl.

Going back to a lighter subject… I know this hasn't exactly been a 'funny' post' (which I aim to do and forgive me if I ever go for a cheap laugh... I'm learning!) but I just wanted to introduce my friends and classmates so when I blog about them later, you'll know who I'm talking about.

Hugs and kisses!

Juni

Parents and their Priorities

Everyone has priorities in their lives. I do, you do, everybody does. But stupid me thought that my parents’ number one priority was the safety of their child- me. Or my sister. Clearly, I was wrong.

Our balcony is really, really worn through because six years ago (when it was built) my dad forgot to do the grouting. Oops. Anyway, now it’s really, really water damaged and we have to get it fixed. And to save a few bucks, dad decided that we could pull up the tiles ourselves.

So my job was to throw the tiles down off the balcony to the ground below- may I take the time to mention the balcony’s on the second story? It was boring as hell, but I was being a good daughter and doing my job.

Then disaster struck. As I stepped on a tile-less space, my foot went right through. In less then two seconds, my entire leg was hanging through the hole, with my butt stopping me from falling. Holy shit.

My response? Cue loud, embarrassingly high-pitched scream. I would have sworn (loudly), but my parents wouldn’t have approved. Anyway, only a thin piece of water-damaged wood that I had just proved was not capable of holding the weight of a sixteen-year-old girl (and I’m not heavy, people!) was what was keeping me from falling down from the second storey to the concrete below!!!!!!!

My dad’s reaction? He called out to mum, who was on the ground below, “is the light okay?” because underneath the balcony there’s a light- our outside light- that he was afraid I'd knocked down. In actuality, I was about a meter across from it (possibly more). My mums Mum’s reaction? "Don’t move Juni! (wait for it) Let me get the camera!” I know right??? Caring parents, much???

Now I have an embarrassing photo of my leg sticking out of the bottom of the balcony that mum texted to ALL my aunts, uncles, grandparents… sadistic bitc woman. And I have the knowledge that a fifty dollar outside light means more to my dad than the safety of his own daughter! I mean, he’s blind! The least he could have done was check I wasn’t bleeding, dying, or in severe pain! It’s not like he could see me!

Anyway, that little fall ended up costing my parents almost $500 dollars extra… oops. It’s also left me safe in the knowledge that my parents’ priorities are completely and utterly about my safety.

Love Juni!

Scarred for life...

Yesterday something happened that has scarred me for life.

I was looking for my old pink Barbie roller-blades in the garage (not for me, for my cousin Ella- I swear!). I was determined to teach Ella to roller-blade because I used to have so much fun doing it, and wanted her to learn!

Anyway, I needed the Barbie skates, because even though they’re ten years old, they’re the safest ones we have for learning to skate, because they’re the ones with three wheels- kind of like the roller-blade version of a tricycle.

Anyway, I found one and was digging around the big cardboard box for the other one and found it, only to look in and experience a horrific sight- one that is burned permanently into my mind.

Inside the rollerblade was a dead mouse. Now, that in itself is okay. I’m the one that goes up into our roof to dig around the insulation for the stinking nests of dead mice (that have been poisoned by my heartless parents) that stink out the whole house (I don’t blame them- if I was killed, I'd want to stink out my murderer's house too). So, no it wasn’t the face it was a dead mouse.

It was the fact it was a bloody FOSSIL! Literally! It was so OLD and so DEAD that its whole body was stiff, it had no fur, it looked like its skin was some kind of hard leather, you could see some bones, the big (seriously, surprisingly big) teeth, empty eye-sockets… it almost looked plastic!

I’ve seen loads of dead mice. Some have been pinkies (baby ones that have starved to death in the nests in the insulation because my parents kill their parents), some have been half rotted with maggots, some have been missing appendages, but seriously- this was the most DISGUSTING dead mouse I have ever seen.

My reaction was similar to the cat above. I widened my eyes and stared at it with enough horror that my sister (who was with a couple of her friends trying to attach wheels to a surfboard... don't ask... with some of her friends) asked me, “What’s wrong Juni?”

I was in shock, but I still had enough common sense to realize that mum would be mortified if she realized I had blurted out in front of a couple of my sister’s friends that there was a freaking dead mouse in my old rollerblade so I quickly mumbled, “err- nothing. Just… a spider.” Which was enough to cause my arachnophobic sister to scream, even though she was around six meters away from me.

Ella tugged on my arm as I continued looking horrified into the rollerblade and the movement caused the rollerblade to shift and for the mouse to shift so it was touching my fingers!

Cue horrified scream and rollerblade flying up in the air. Unfortunately, instead of throwing the rollerblade away from me, I threw it straight UP! I think it’s obvious what happened next. The fossil-leathery-dead-thingy-gross-mouse landed in my HAIR! (and the rollerblade narrowly missed my cousin, who you may remember is five years old and standing right next to me).

I had no idea what to do. So I did what anyone would do. I started screaming and thrashing wildly, shaking my head from side to side like a lunatic, trying to get the freaking thing out of my freaking hair. Unfortunately, it got a bit tangled in my struggles. Kind of like the spirit of the mouse was trying to punish me for my parents’ sin (of killing it with their poison) by grossing me out to the point of collapse. As I realized it was stuck, my screeching intensified.

This caused Sophie and Jemima (my sister’s friends) to come over, wondering what was freaking the fuck out of me, whilst my sister screamed “is the spider alive?”

“Get it out of my hair!” I screamed. Sophie and Jemima saw it, realized it wasn't a spider and started to both laugh and exclaim “that’s gross!”

I shot them my best ‘no duh!’ look, and realized they weren’t being helpful and rushed inside to find mum, yelling over my shoulder, “don’t let Ella go on the road!”

I managed to find mum who went to find some gloves to put on before she took it out of my hair, leaving me almost in tears waiting in the bathroom for her to get it out of my hair.

Yep.

It doesn’t get that much more scarring then that.

Except, maybe, the fact I put an extra pair of old socks on Ella’s feet and let her still use the rollerblade.

5-Year-Old Cousins... how they shock you

Today my little cousin Ella came over. Well, technically we picked her up from after school care and took her to our house... semantics... She's five years old and super gorgeous! Anyway, Mum had a headache and left me in charge of Ella. 

This is us:

 Just Kidding.... I WISH that was me!!!

This is reality....

I went through the usual routine that I use when looking after her... And by routine I mean that I offered her excessive amounts of junk food (I'm sixteen, and not a mum~please don't judge me!) and grabbed her Moo to cuddle with. Btw- Moo is Ella's rabbit who lives with us. 

Ella thinks that Moo is a girl. When we got Moo we thought that too, but as Moo grew, out popped a pair of testicles. And he started regularly humping the guinea pig. Only the male one, though, oddly enough...

  

Anyway, back to the main part of the post... Moo was on his back on my bed and Ella was next to me, when I decided 'what the hell? It's time she knew the truth!' So I pointed to Moo's testicles and said, "look Ella! Moo's a boy!" (rabbit penises are hidden away and you can't see them unless your rabbit is excited, and most likely humping your guinea pig)  

Her face looked horrified and I swear her eyes got shiny. She was looking at me as if waiting for me to say 'just joking!' and horrible thoughts rushed through my head. 

Ella had always reacted strongly and negatively towards people who accidentally called Moo a 'he' or a 'him'. And then I started thinking about how her mum and dad had recently divorced (by recent, I mean the process finished recently. The actual process itself has been long and messy, stretching over two and a bit years) and that she hadn't seen her dad (who had moved back to Turkey) for nearly six months. And then, because I obviously think too much, I started thinking that she viewed males as non-permanent figures in her life, and would now hate Moo.  

So I chickened out and plastered a fake smile on my face and laughed. "I'm just joking El! Moo's a girl because-" I hesitated, looking at Moo desperately, when Ella pointed to Moo's testicles and said confidently,

"We know Moo's a girl because she has two pwivate's like me!" it took me a few seconds to realize what she was talking about, when it hit. My five year old cousin was connecting a pair of rabbit testies with a female genitalia... You know- the two lips of the labia? 

I was horrified. Shocked. Stunned. So I did what any other sixteen year old girl would do (haven't the foggiest what a guy would do). I nodded and kept my fake smile plastered to my face. "That's right El!" I told her, my voice not the least bit squeaky (it might have been a little. I mean, she's five!!!) 

But Ella hadn't finished torturing me yet (sadistic five-year-old!). No, next she said, "boys like uncle Iainy (pronounced E-knee. It's our younger cousins' nickname for my dad Iain) and Andy puppy only have one." and she pointed to my black Labrador, stretched out on his back, soaking up sun. Well, she pointed at his penis. Then she opened her mouth again, but I was done with this conversation. Done, and regretting bringing it up in the first place. 

So before she could start comparing, I don't know- Moo's nose to my boobs (both are small)? I butted in with, "let's put Moo back outside and grab some ice-cream!" 

To my relief she nodded and picked up Moo. That was the last time I ever told Ella ANYTHING was a guy not a girl! For all I care, we can change Moo's name to Miss Pinky Pinkerton- I am NOT going down that road again! Ever!