weekend statistics

As you may know, over the weekend I was at "les Jeux Franco"... which are basically an excuse for a ton of students (all the cool people! and me) to go to workshops, be completely crazy, and hang out with a ton of students from all over the province! In order to explain my experience, I thought I'd use... statistics? (Math is totally important in my life okay.) 

As we arrived...

Number of people attending: about 650

(thumbs up for speaking French!)

Number of hours I spent in misery (aka on the bus): 2 1/2 (okay so I complain a lot. Basically the sole reason I'm happy my mother works at my school is because it means I can just get a ride from her...) 

During the weekend...

Number of lines I waited in: 15 (no exaggeration. There were A LOT of lines.) 

Number of super awkward conversations I had with people I had just met: 7 (considering I was there for 3 1/2 days, I consider this a low number and am accordingly proud) 

Number of Doctor Who fans I discovered: 5 (I found my people! Also, looking at my Facebook wall, I realised that almost everything there has to do with it. I am not subtle about my obsessions.) 

Number of times I drank tea: 0 (do you know how deprived I was?) 

(however, since I'd made a friend from the town, I did get an Ice Capp during the final show... a good reason to be social!)

Number of times I heard, "What? You're graduating? I thought you were in grade nine!": 12 (thanks world, love you too)

Number of times I fell over while practicing our dance routine (yes, I was in dance, don't laugh): 4 (thankfully none of these were during our big finale!)

(we won for best team spirit! we also didn't really have time to do makeup, so excuse the football stripes)

As we were leaving..

Percentage of people who were crying: 50 (not me) 

Number of random people I didn't know who hugged me: 5 (and no, this is not just people-I-did-not-recognise, these were literally people who I had never seen before...) 

Number of times a bus other than mine was called and I freaked out because I thought it was mine and they had left without me: 8 (there were a lot of buses)

And finally:

Number of times I laughed, made friends, and generally had fun: too many to count! 

How was your weekend? Did you ever do camps like this in highschool? 

hold on when you get love... you haven't had enough

By now, I'm sure it'll come as no surprise that I love music and anything that allows me to be loud and generally disruptive. For this reason, I love concerts- everyone else is even louder than I am! I mentioned here that I'd be attending some... and well, you already know how my Emilie Autumn one went (aka, it didn't)... but I never wrote about Stars. Or Marianas Trench.

Let's just say they went a lot better.

I'm calling this artistic blur

yes, it was in a church.  I don't think you can get any more special

I feel like this is a digeridoo... again, the coolness factor is through the roof

(Side note: The lead singer also wore hipster glasses. Be still my beating heart.)

we hid from the world inside a disco ball

...So that might have been the best night of my life. 

But the next one was almost as good. 

awkward selfies are mandatory

(This was taken during the first of the opening acts. I'll just say we ate chocolate the entire time and let you draw your own conclusions from that...) 

just so you know that yes, I really was there and this is not just my imagination

but seriously, I want these pants

and just as seriously omg he is so attractive, marry me plzzz

However, none of this compares to the fact that I put gas in the car for the first time alone yesterday. (BE IMPRESSED.) Why could this excitement not be spread out? Like peanut butter! OMG, it totally is like peanut butter- I always drain all the oil out, and then it doesn't spread at all... so it's like clumps of deliciousness... clumps of excitement? It might not be the most well-written metaphor, but it's accurate! 

...that might have been the most awkwardly written paragraph of my life. English teachers, feel free to disown me. 

On another note of awkwardness... the dancing. For once, I don't mean mine (even I can't ruin jumping up and down) but that of the main singers' of both bands... they might have been worse than me. (Except minus the falling down and bruises.) This was a great comfort- hey, if they're famous, I can't be that awful, right? 

...this is tired-person logic. It's after eight. Time for bed.

What amazing concerts have you attended?

dancing up a storm

Ah, highschool dances. Also known as "the misnamed event wherein no one actually dances, but stands around awkwardly bopping their heads and pretending that they're not too embarassed to dance."

Other than Kori and I, of course. We flung ourselves into the middle of the dance floor and... flailed?

Okay, that was just me. There is no false modesty involved when I say I can't dance. Some moves I tried to coin yesterday were named "The Jellyfish" (waving my arms like tentacles in front of me while jumping from side to side) and "The Octopus" (...pretty similar). There was also quite a bit of tripping involved- my knees are now black and blue. (I consider it a war wound in the service of Fun.)

Unfortunately, I didn't manage to get any photos (blame Kori, who refused to pose with me) so you'll just have to imagine my thrashing- but at least I have one glamourous bathroom mirror shot.

(Isn't that toilet in the background lovely? Actually, maybe it's a good thing- it makes me look extra gorgeous in comparison!) As you can tell, I maybe like purple a little bit. This was a perfect dancing skirt- it swirled and dipped and made even my most awkward moves look elegant. (I was also told that I made everything I did look princess-y. I would be flattered by this, but the bemused tone and snicker that accompanied it made  it a dubious compliment.)

I'm sure you're all dying to know: Did my flailing attract anyone? Did I meet any cute boys on Valentine's Day? The answer is... drumrolll.... no. (I didn't even end up going to the doctor's- I had to work.) However, my principal did give me a piece of fudge, so... there's that consolation. Really, chocolate makes everything better... in part because I need to go work out after, and exercise makes everything better too! It's like a double punch!

And my third consolation: At least I have Taylor Swift sing-alongs with my spare mates. However, watch out: when you start singing Miley Cyrus, this is what happens:

You fall off your chair and hit your head. KARMA, I'm telling you!

Oh, and just remember... in case you ever feel there's no chivalry in the world...

Happy weekend, ninjas!

how is this even dancing?

Last night, I went with a few people from my school to a dance. Now, as I've mentioned before, my school is SMALL. Everyone knows each other. We're all basically, if not friends, able to hang out peaceably without punching each other in the face. (Ok, so there are some people I would LOVE to do this to... but I am a nice person, so I resist. However, if she comments on my fashion sense one more time...)

This friendliness also means that our dances are pretty tame. (Well, only about twenty people come, so what can you expect?) However, when we walked into this dance, my eyes nearly popped out of my sockets. EVERYONE was grinding.

I just don't understand this. It's like, whoa. I don't even know your name, so why are you attempting to rub your junk in my trunk? GET AWAY FROM ME, FREAK. I am not that kind of girl.

If this has ever happened to you, this video might be helpful:

Or you could try my friend's plan, which was

1.       Smile innocently.

2.       Dance in the other direction.

3.       Elbow the offender in the face.

Has anyone else experienced this? What did you do? (Or maybe I'm wrong. Maybe it's actually super enjoyable. If so, please clarify this.)