Saturday, September 13, 2008
My eyes are purple. There. I wrote it. That’s the truth I don’t want anyone to know about me and why I wear those damn contact lenses. I can see just fine without them. The lenses are brown so that nobody will know I’m not human. Not entirely, anyway.
In Ireland, nobody ever said anything. My eyes were as normal as green eyes or red hair. I was as human as anyone else was. Twelve years is too long to still be angry with my father, anymore. He was the reason we left Ireland. The company he works for has offices in five or six different countries, and he was offered a new job in the Toronto office. I never had anything against Canada. I still don’t, even if I would like to go back to Ireland eventually. It’s just that my first day of school in Canada was when everything started going wrong for me.
On my first day at the new school, of course the teacher made me stand in front of the class and introduce myself. I said about two words before a kid in the front row said, “She talks funny.” And the girl sitting next to her said that I talk that way because I was from England. Not Ireland. And when the teacher asked the class if they had any questions for me, there was only one. It was asked my the girl who thought I was from England:
“Why are your eyes purple?” What was I supposed to say? I stood there, staring. Since nobody said anything, the teacher let me sit down and went on with her plans for the day.
At recess, I didn’t even bother trying to ask anyone if I could play with them. They would just laugh at my accent and funny-looking eyes. So what did I do? I sat by a tree and, as crazy as it seems, I asked it if I could sit with it. I didn’t hear any actual voice, but I was sure it answered. Someone from the other grade one class heard me, and that was it. Most schools must have at least one kid that everyone else picks on. Thanks to my eyes, at my school, that kid was me.
Now I have brown eyes. As far as anyone knows, anyway. If everything goes my way, no one will ever know any different.
Enough of that. Time for the present.
I haven’t left my room all day. Thought I would be able to avoid Greg if I did, but he came to my room a little while ago. He asked if I was sure I didn’t want to go to a movie, because there were some really good ones playing. Since there is only one theatre in the area, you really don’t get too many chances to see any of the movies. He was all cute about it too, the way he grinned, like I would be missing a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I’m almost certain he meant a date with him, not a movie I’ll be able to rent in a few months anyway.
It’s just that I’ve never been on a date before. That time I was set up hardly counts. The girl who planned everything thought she was doing us a favour. Neither of us were ready for dating. I’m still not ready. I’m just beginning to really live life on the human side of things. Even if it wasn’t for my eyes, a boyfriend is too much.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
I can’t live life on the human side of things if I hide in my room. I’ll figure out what to do about Greg if he keeps pursuing me. I can tell he does like me, though, which is just too weird for me to imagine. I’ve never even had any male friends, let alone guys who were interested me in the way I think Greg is.
But I’m going to live in the present. The unknown and the past are not what I want to think about, even if it keeps leaking in. Today I saw a door being held open by a lanyard that was hooked onto the room’s doorknob and the bathroom’s doorknob. Nathan, the guy who’s room it was, was in the common room watching TV. He said he has no reason to think anyone in rez would steal from him. I suppose that is true. And it’s fair to trust people until they give you a reason not to.
As much as I agree with Nathan, I could never do that. You could say that it’s because I grew up in Toronto, but it’s not like I’ve been given too many reasons to have faith in humans anyway. That could happen anywhere. Then again, Aaron is from Ottawa, and he locks his door too. Nathan grew up in a town with less than a thousand people in it. I’m pretty sure my high school had more students than that.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Forgot to do laundry yesterday (I miss you, Mom). I don’t know if anyone else will think what I did was funny, but I thought it was. I put my clothes in the washing machine right before going to class and switched it into the dryer during break. Benoit says that in college, an hour is really fifty minutes, so we get a ten-minute break in every two-hour class and leave before class is technically over.
Tuesday, September, 16, 2008
Met with my group for the presentation today. We’ve got to collect information on places like the Children’s Aid Society and Baldwin House. That’s the local shelter for abused women and their kids. Such a happy subject.
The meeting went pretty well, a lot better than I thought it would be. It turned out I have nothing to worry about with my age. One of them did ask if I started college early or if I’d skipped grades, but they believed me when I said I would be turning eighteen in two weeks. Everything after that went on as if we were the same age, or age made no difference. We spent almost as much time joking as we did making plan on how to gather information. Now I have to get the courage to call Children’s Aid to schedule a meeting with them.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Played poker for the first time today. There were come hands that I was sure were worth more than they were, so I was out pretty quickly. The whole time, I was worried that I might have to run to the bathroom to throw up, but it was okay. When they were laughing, it really was the “with you” kind, and they took the time to tell me what hands were worth what. I was still out first though. Maybe I won’t be next time. Or if we have a poker tournament.
As much as I hate clichés, the one about old habits dying hard was really getting to me today and yesterday. I may still be a freak, but I have to keep reminding myself that even if who I am hasn’t changed, a lot of things have. I don’t talk to trees, or anything else that people don’t normally talk to. It’s just that sometimes I can still hear the kids’ words from grade one.
“She’s not just weird, she’s mental.”
“What kind of person has eyes like that?”
“She must weigh only ten pounds.”
“I bet she’ll break in half if you push her over.”
But here, it’s never more than the occasional cute comment about my size and nothing more.
