So this evening was Matt and my mother's birthday celebration at Bistro Praha and I am so full of Steak Tartar and pasta I feel like I might barf.
I really don't have much to say other than that was delicious, but that experience left me not wanting more.
I feel like I am going to die.
I am not sure why I am blogging right now, because as I type I am annoying myself and making my stomach queasy, but I do have a strange dream that is reaccuring to discuss.
I am back in Mckernan, the school I attended in the same class of the same people for ten years, and it is the first day of grade 7, 8 or 9. We get assigned to our homeroom and our lockers are outside. In some dreams it's not clear who our teacher is but it is always either Mr. Shaw (who was my homeroom for two years) or Mr. Oskiboiny-is that how you spell that name Kt? Anywho, one weird thing is that it is always on the opposite side of the school that I normally had a locker, not sure what that means but yeah.
We get our lockers assigned to us and I put on my lock on my locker and cruise to my first class. Then I get in there and I don't know anyone in there so I must have the wrong class. I then go back to my locker, and it's not actually my locker, I have forgotten my locker number. Then I look around at the locks and think I have found mine, and then I can't remember the combination. I am stuck in the hallway unable to get my books and don't know where to go.
Now in a way this a completely ridiculous dream, but it is also interesting, because I am in real life a very confident person, but in these dreams I am vulnerable, weak, and afraid. Exactly the opposite of the person I really am. It is also interesting how whenever I get my locker there is something in there, glued on the inside of the door. I can't remember exactly what it is every time, but I know the last time there was the front of a card I got when I was a little girl of a kitten with a big head.
I am not sure of the significance of this but it seems to be a reaccuring theme.
I have so many dreams about being back at Mckernan, I wonder if a child being in the same school with the same kids for that long is a good thing or a bad thing, it's not like I've kept any buddies from there really, I mean, I like them and if I saw them around I'd say hi and chat or whatevs, but it's not like they were all at my wedding. I may see them in my dreams or on my Facebook feed, but that's about it.
Strange, because I was so happy to leave my elementary/Jr. High school, but once I did I was lost. I spent grade ten completely wandering the hallways of my new high school that I was so excited to attend. When I was at Mckernan I was a bit of an odd duck, not a loner but just different from my classmates. I also didn't do as well academically. I couldn't get the math, and to make it even harder it was in French, everything was in French. I felt like the weirdest one in my class, like I didn't fit in.
So near the end of my ten years of French Immersion at MCK, I was so excited to get to a different school where I could be myself and meet other like minded people.
I got there and my world was completely turned upside down.
I have never discussed this before with anyone, but I hated life that first year of high school.
Several factors played into this feeling.
First of all, I had been with the same classmates for ten years, and as much as I said I just hated being with them year after year, they had become a huge part of my life as I knew it. Kindergarten to grade nine is a long time. All of a sudden I was in several classes with different people in all of them and some were better than others, but my math class was by far the worst.
So like I said, I had difficulties with math as a youngster. When I was younger, like six or seven, I wasn't quite that bad, I got most concepts like the other kids around me, but in grade 3 we got these horrible workbooks we had to do chapters and chapters of questions and it made me HATE MATH. I remember from grade 3 to 6 I spent my whole life doing fucking math. I hated it so I didn't do all that well. Then the test would come and my head was so jumbled with what I thought was right and what I thought I understood and even when I did know something it would be forgotten in the middle of one of these scary tests.
So I carry on failing at math through Jr. High, but by grade eight stopped caring about school work in general, especially math. I just decided one day I didn't give a fuck and started wearing that. I failed so miserably in math that they put me in the lowest level of math possible in grade ten- MATH 14.
If you don't know what MATH 14 is like, trust me, it's bad.
The first day we did a little worksheet that started with the equation 2+2=. I was like, oh my god, what have I done by not caring?
I look around the class, and the cast of characters included a pregnant chick who cut herself, a really gross guy that picked his nose and turned around to look at me all the time, a girl with a missing finger from the states, one guy who definitely didn't seem to even speak english and a few badly behaved stoner/slackers from the north side.
I remember hanging out with new friends in my other more normal classes and someone said something about being in math 13 , one above 14, and then someone said, "well, at least you aren't in math 14, that's where the retards are" this followed by laughter, and of course I laughed too, but I hid my book from those girls the rest of the year.
I was so ashamed of my having to do grade four math in high school that I hid this from most people, even lied to people about it. Now I wanted to do better, so I made sure to keep my marks up so I could get ahead.
So grade ten was payback for all the years of slacking off in math. I had to do long division and times tables again. It sucked. I was so hating having to sneak to that class that it made me hate school, when I was supposed to be loving my first year of high school. I just wanted to run away and hide. I almost wanted to crawl back into my cocoon of the same, it was comforting somehow. I missed it.
So I kinda went off track here and blabbed until I don't even know what I am blabbing about. Oh yeah, my fear of inadequacy especially in school. I kept having dreams of failing tests back in Jr. High, all through high school and into adulthood. Though they are less frequent now I have had many lately.
Sorry that was long and I really don't know the answer on this one.
I know I'll probably have these dreams forever, I guess I am forever scarred by French Immersion math.
I know I won't be putting my kids in ANY kind of Immersion program, whatsoever.
(One time Matt insisted we would have to put our kids in Madarin or Cantonese Immersion, and he pushed it just for the sake of argument and I got really mad and was like, I don't know if I can have kids with you... FUCKING CANTONESE???!!!)
Camera hooring.
Camera hooraying with Salem, who you can only see like a lump of velvety fur behind me, he was grooming himself. I love that boy.
Off to bed with me, I am going to work tomorrow!
See you pretties soon!
-E.
I am not sure why I am blogging right now, because as I type I am annoying myself and making my stomach queasy, but I do have a strange dream that is reaccuring to discuss.
I am back in Mckernan, the school I attended in the same class of the same people for ten years, and it is the first day of grade 7, 8 or 9. We get assigned to our homeroom and our lockers are outside. In some dreams it's not clear who our teacher is but it is always either Mr. Shaw (who was my homeroom for two years) or Mr. Oskiboiny-is that how you spell that name Kt? Anywho, one weird thing is that it is always on the opposite side of the school that I normally had a locker, not sure what that means but yeah.
We get our lockers assigned to us and I put on my lock on my locker and cruise to my first class. Then I get in there and I don't know anyone in there so I must have the wrong class. I then go back to my locker, and it's not actually my locker, I have forgotten my locker number. Then I look around at the locks and think I have found mine, and then I can't remember the combination. I am stuck in the hallway unable to get my books and don't know where to go.
Now in a way this a completely ridiculous dream, but it is also interesting, because I am in real life a very confident person, but in these dreams I am vulnerable, weak, and afraid. Exactly the opposite of the person I really am. It is also interesting how whenever I get my locker there is something in there, glued on the inside of the door. I can't remember exactly what it is every time, but I know the last time there was the front of a card I got when I was a little girl of a kitten with a big head.
I am not sure of the significance of this but it seems to be a reaccuring theme.
I have so many dreams about being back at Mckernan, I wonder if a child being in the same school with the same kids for that long is a good thing or a bad thing, it's not like I've kept any buddies from there really, I mean, I like them and if I saw them around I'd say hi and chat or whatevs, but it's not like they were all at my wedding. I may see them in my dreams or on my Facebook feed, but that's about it.
Strange, because I was so happy to leave my elementary/Jr. High school, but once I did I was lost. I spent grade ten completely wandering the hallways of my new high school that I was so excited to attend. When I was at Mckernan I was a bit of an odd duck, not a loner but just different from my classmates. I also didn't do as well academically. I couldn't get the math, and to make it even harder it was in French, everything was in French. I felt like the weirdest one in my class, like I didn't fit in.
So near the end of my ten years of French Immersion at MCK, I was so excited to get to a different school where I could be myself and meet other like minded people.
I got there and my world was completely turned upside down.
I have never discussed this before with anyone, but I hated life that first year of high school.
Several factors played into this feeling.
First of all, I had been with the same classmates for ten years, and as much as I said I just hated being with them year after year, they had become a huge part of my life as I knew it. Kindergarten to grade nine is a long time. All of a sudden I was in several classes with different people in all of them and some were better than others, but my math class was by far the worst.
So like I said, I had difficulties with math as a youngster. When I was younger, like six or seven, I wasn't quite that bad, I got most concepts like the other kids around me, but in grade 3 we got these horrible workbooks we had to do chapters and chapters of questions and it made me HATE MATH. I remember from grade 3 to 6 I spent my whole life doing fucking math. I hated it so I didn't do all that well. Then the test would come and my head was so jumbled with what I thought was right and what I thought I understood and even when I did know something it would be forgotten in the middle of one of these scary tests.
So I carry on failing at math through Jr. High, but by grade eight stopped caring about school work in general, especially math. I just decided one day I didn't give a fuck and started wearing that. I failed so miserably in math that they put me in the lowest level of math possible in grade ten- MATH 14.
If you don't know what MATH 14 is like, trust me, it's bad.
The first day we did a little worksheet that started with the equation 2+2=. I was like, oh my god, what have I done by not caring?
I look around the class, and the cast of characters included a pregnant chick who cut herself, a really gross guy that picked his nose and turned around to look at me all the time, a girl with a missing finger from the states, one guy who definitely didn't seem to even speak english and a few badly behaved stoner/slackers from the north side.
I remember hanging out with new friends in my other more normal classes and someone said something about being in math 13 , one above 14, and then someone said, "well, at least you aren't in math 14, that's where the retards are" this followed by laughter, and of course I laughed too, but I hid my book from those girls the rest of the year.
I was so ashamed of my having to do grade four math in high school that I hid this from most people, even lied to people about it. Now I wanted to do better, so I made sure to keep my marks up so I could get ahead.
So grade ten was payback for all the years of slacking off in math. I had to do long division and times tables again. It sucked. I was so hating having to sneak to that class that it made me hate school, when I was supposed to be loving my first year of high school. I just wanted to run away and hide. I almost wanted to crawl back into my cocoon of the same, it was comforting somehow. I missed it.
So I kinda went off track here and blabbed until I don't even know what I am blabbing about. Oh yeah, my fear of inadequacy especially in school. I kept having dreams of failing tests back in Jr. High, all through high school and into adulthood. Though they are less frequent now I have had many lately.
Sorry that was long and I really don't know the answer on this one.
I know I'll probably have these dreams forever, I guess I am forever scarred by French Immersion math.
I know I won't be putting my kids in ANY kind of Immersion program, whatsoever.
(One time Matt insisted we would have to put our kids in Madarin or Cantonese Immersion, and he pushed it just for the sake of argument and I got really mad and was like, I don't know if I can have kids with you... FUCKING CANTONESE???!!!)
Camera hooring.
Camera hooraying with Salem, who you can only see like a lump of velvety fur behind me, he was grooming himself. I love that boy.
Off to bed with me, I am going to work tomorrow!
See you pretties soon!
-E.
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