It’s Tortilla Time| Hi I’m Tori and This is my Story

This is an extremely accurate example of the face that I feel like making.

My site stats have been ridiculously low these days. Has my life become that mundane? Are my posts lacking in comical value? Should I get arrested? Should I document the humorous doings of my mother more often? Should I continue to write ireful posts about she-who-shall-not-be-named? Those have been lacking as of late, and I do acknowledge this and apologize.

I blame Pepe.

I blame that little bastard for everything, global warming included.

I suppose I haven’t been completely faithful to you, blog. You see, there is someone else.

Meet the saxophone. That stupid contraption has been consuming much of my life as of late. I have a test on Thursday that I should probably practise for, as I play alongside a partner. If I make a mistake, however minute, it has the potential of fucking them up, as well. My partner has already politely instructed me to LEARN HOW TO KEEP TIME, WOMAN.

I struggle to keep time and read notes, it’s one of my quirks.

My puffer has been my sole lifeline for the past week or so, as allergy season is here in full force. Tameaka and I share a common sensitivity to pollen and the like, so yesterday at a sleepover we passed a puffer around like a hot potato.

‘Here, give me another puff. Yeeeeeah baby, I feel good.’

It can be rather rewarding to clear your airways, you see.

I somehow managed to snag a summer job before my search officially commenced.

I will be writing travel collateral, which I am fortunate enough to be able to do out of the comfort of my own home. This is perfect for me; it gives me the opportunity to work at my own hours, sleep in as late as I desire and wear my pyjamas at my leisure. The pay is also better than I would receive working at minimum wage.

And the flexibility is a bonus. If the opportunity presents itself for me to go to Ohio for a weekend with my father and his replacement family, I will be able to go guilt-free.

This is my first experience with professional writing, and I’m sure that this will be invaluable for my future career as a journalist.

Mum- I can’t wait until Ben graduates high school so I can tell your band teacher what I really think of him.
Me- Oh? What are you going to say?
Mum- I’m gonna say, look, every time I’ve looked at you for the past five years all I’ve seen was a BIG HAIRY HORSE’S ASS.
Me- Yeah, much more effective than telling him that you disagree with his teaching style.

Do I look like somebody who worries about trivial matters in life? Because I don’t.

I’ll listen to my iPod at such a high volume that it can be heard across the street.
I’ll eat all the damn Splenda I desire.
I’ll continue to dart across the road with an obvious lack of concern for on-coming traffic.
I’ll wear socks that don’t match.

I just don’t worry.

My life is so unencumbered, and I sincerely hope that it remains this way. Happiness is my current lack of responsibility and commitment.

I don’t want to grow up.

And when age is inevitably bestowed upon me, I envision myself living alone, isolated from civilization, with no less than five dogs. I’m anti-social like that.

Me- Hey, can I look at some of your chem answers? I didn’t understand a few of the questions.
Friend- Yeah, sure.
Me- Okay, I need to see questions one through twenty-eight.
Friend- You didn’t get ANY of them?
Awkward silence.
Me- Hold me.

In English class today we discussed yesterday’s play. Not only was I unable to contribute to this discussion because I was asleep for the majority of the play, but I found myself attempting to fend off sleep yet again. I guess Shakespeare has that sort of effect on me.

I was revived, however, when I learnt of some of the events that I missed on account of my slumber. An infant was murdered? A student’s cell phone rang during the play? Actors messed up their lines? HOW COULD I MISS THIS, INTERNET?

Some could argue that this is karma seeking sweet revenge on me for snoozing through the play. I, on the other hand, remain unconvinced.

Maybe karma was the old man that fell on me on the subway on the way home. Maybe.

Today brought the dreaded Shakespeare play downtown, though I was fortunate enough to sleep through the majority of it. My slumber, however, was rudely interrupted by the piercing scream of Lady Macbeth, much to my dismay.

Macbeth is as surprisingly mundane in person as it is on paper.

Throughout the entire play I was unable to determine who exactly Macbeth was. I take it this is relatively negative for someone planning to take AP Literature next year.

My Mum calls her friend Lora yesterday for a chat, but instead Lora’s sixteen year old son answers the phone.

Mum- Hello Tyler, is your Mum around?
Tyler- I think she’s still sleeping, let me check.
Mum- Okay.
Long pause.
Tyler- Yeah, she’s still sleeping, I’d better not wake her up. She was out with Suzy last night, if you know what I mean.
Mum- Oh dear, you’d better not wake her.

Ben’s football practise is minutes away from Tyler’s house. Because Tyler is Ben’s best friend, Ben went there to pass the time during his lunch break.

Following Ben’s practise:

Mum- So did you have fun at Tyler’s?
Ben- Yeah, but Lora was really sick the entire time.
Mum- Yeah, she was out with Suzy last night.
Ben- Really? Well that’s not smart if she was sick…

I fucking hate rats.

Today I went to the mall with a group of people, most of whom I cannot stand. One girl, who I find particularly annoying, decided to purchase a pet rat. I didn’t think too much of it, I was far too occupied purchasing clothing and the like. I suppose some people are just partial to rats, I don’t know.

We were sitting in the food court, though I believe I was the only one not eating. Of course fate would have it that I sat beside the girl who purchased the vermin. She was concerned that the disease-carrying agent wouldn’t have a sufficient supply of air in the box that it temporarily inhabited. Her solution? Let it out and give it some air, of course.

I was visibly uncomfortable about her holding the rodent in the midst of the food court, let alone directly beside me. Everyone oohed and aahed over the seemingly adorable rat, passing it around like a hot potato. I looked on in disgust and kept to myself, hoping, PRAYING that nobody I knew would notice me.

Just as the girl received her pet following its travels from friend-to-friend, the mother fucker JUMPED out of her hands LESS THAN TWO INCHES FROM ME. My reflexes caused me to catch the little shit before it hit the floor, and I was visibly startled when I realized that the vermin was in my hands. It then leaped from my hands onto the floor where it began to run, as if running for its very life.

Out of utter mortification, I began to pursue the rat to prevent the occupants of the entire food court from witnessing it. Here was this teenaged girl, tearing through a mall food court in pursuit of a rat. A few of my friends (and I use this word lightly) began to join the chase. It was on.

I would normally hang back and allow others to diffuse the situation, but the truth of it was I COULDN’T ALLOW THE RAT TO WIN. A mere rodent couldn’t get the best of Tori.

People began to take notice. Some laughed, some screamed. It was, however, undeniable that chaos erupted in the path of this rat. The rodent then chose to seek shelter under the chair of an oblivious, rather portly man. Tameaka, trying her best to avoid worsening the situation further, calmly said ‘Okay, try not to freak out, but there is a rat under your chair.’

It was as if the rat comprehended the sentence fluently, because it then emerged from under the man’s seat.
As the man caught sight of the rat, he immediately leaped up as if fearing for his life and began to scream.

GOTCHA! Tameaka declared with tremendous pride as she apprehended the pint-sized escapee.

‘Oh my God you guys, I am never shopping with you again’ I proclaimed as I slowly reattained my colour.