Right. Ooooooooookay. I should be doing homework. Yeah I should, I will after this entry.
3 things to talk about. One, Chinese New Year, Gong Xi Fa Cai to anyone reading. Ivy’s laaaaaaate she should be here, it’s 8:14. Rar, nevermind, can’t be helped. I’ll start my 3-margin-pages and if she’s not on when I’m done, I’ll SMS her. Meanwhile I’m going to use precious time to whine and complain, and rant in general.
Pete. He’s… he’s not the sensitive sort of guy. He says he is, but he also says not to me. I know it sounds like I’m shifting the blame, but I just want to clarify my innocence in the scenario, to whatever degree that’s possible. The first memory I have of Pete was him laughing in my face when I was crying. Happy memory isn’t it? Elvis had slapped me into tears (asshole,- I’ve yet to get all of my vengeance but he’s really not so bad now that he stopped calling me John Schlong) and Pete made note of it to bring it up and laugh hysterically every time he saw me.
Year 9, last year. Pete and Steve teamed up on me to tease me about everything they could find, from intelligence (or rather stupidity) to absent-mindedness, if that’s counts. I remember them calling out "WELCOME" "TO" "AUSTRALIA" "JOHN!" across science, and they were always dicks to me. Pete then sat next to me one day writing about how I’m an idiot, I retaliated and proved I was far more intelligent than he gave me credit to, and from there we got closer in an untrusting sort of friendship. He was always violent, proving his superiority, and yeah when we became closer to breaking a sort of barrier, it was either one of us (generally me) that crossed a line and prevented that. It was a defensive instinct after all the times Pete’s hurt me, we make fun of each other, I’m not entirely willing to give him the chance to hurt me more. I know I shouldn’t hold the past against him if we’re working to the future, so I’m going to give him more chances, and try myself, to be a good friend.
Issue 3. CJ’s, aka cockjocks, aka speedos, aka those underwear looking bathers guys wear. I’ve been forced into them for, wait for it… water polo. Of course the more correct term is Anti-drowning practice, but it’s really not helping much. I feel like vomitting in the pool, I can tread water for about 3 seconds and I just swallow so much water (and air with it) it leaves me feeling like I’m going to explode. It’s so horrible, my legs are absolutely exhausted, they are aching terribly and if I don’t go to bed soon I’m going to start screaming. Ouchie! Waaaaaah they hurt. Most guys in Trinity would call me weak, but I’d rather be weak and remain alive and hanging for dear life onto the edge of the pool, literally. And they expect me to swim out there and toss a ball around. Pfft.
Mr Scott says he doesn’t want to have to write that letter home saying they found me at the bottom of the pool, but apparently by training I’ll be able to swim 100m without stopping. I would like to see them try to make me do 30. No, actually I wouldn’t, that would kill me. Well… At least there’s some comfort in knowing I’m not the worst swimmer in Year 10. Sure, Pete beat me by 5 seconds. I’m used to losing to him, but Richard hasn’t made it all the way (I might be better than him!) and Jacob Sonags sounds like he’s worse. Then again, he’s the guy who doesn’t know how to whisper (literally I think) and browsed porn on the school computers. Apparently he eats a tub of butter every day too, but I’d rather not rely on rumours. Aaanyway, Richard and I have yet to drown, I can stay above water without my hands now (even if it is for less than 3 seconds) and even if I do come out shaking and unable to think or move properly. I was too tired to stand, though I could, but it really was quite pathetic having to sit down or lean on things. Meanwhile my legs ache moooooooore and I guess I’ll just have to endure this again on Friday, and then again on Wednesday for the next 6 weeks.
Oh, if I die, make sure Ivy knows 3 things. I told Pete just in case.
1. I forgot.
2. I’ll tell you later.
3. I’m an author, and like all authors, my writing portfolio can be found in my desk.
By the way, don’t you just love The Da Vinci Code?
Ivy’s still not on, I’ll try and do some work but I’m so tired right now… Damn I hate Anti-drowning lessons. Ah well, ciao, hopefully see you later.