Now What.

As you all know, January 16th is the day that we get yet another new Creative Writing teacher. Mr.Good will be replaced, being that he is retired, and can only teach 49% of the school year as a substitute teacher. There are hundreds of different rules and regulations that come with this mess, ones I'm struggling to understand. In all honesty, I'm nervous for this new teacher we're supposed to be getting.
Last year in my French class, we began the year with a new teacher as our previous one had moved away. Madame-I-can't-remember-her-name had just moved here from Texas, and was harboring a fugitive. Literally. She and her daughter moved here to get away from her husband, who was battling for custody. Not only did MICRHN fail us in the aspect of not being available, due to the brutal phone calls she had in the hallway with her lawyer, but she also failed us by not teaching us a thing. Although, I did get to watch the Toy Story in French at least six times, along with the Little Mermaid, and a movie about a naked boy.
Needless to say she was fired, halfway through the year. We then received a Mr.Dehaven, who was a decent teacher. He was very awkward, tall, skinny, and could easily have been directly removed from the nineties. I also didn't learn anything during his short stay. We finished the year with him, and I was as clueless to French verbs as I was when I began.
If all of that didn't prove to the school board that giving a job as important as a French teacher to Joe-Schmo on the street, they will never understand the importance of losing Ms.McKenna, and then taking Mr.Good from us, and more specifically me.
If I had my way, I'd keep Mr.Good here, working in the position he is in currently. As he is not just teaching, he's helping give students a different way of viewing life, and teaching each of us a thing or two about coping. Regrettably, I cannot have my way, such is life. Mr.Good taught me more in his short stay than most teachers have taught me in a full year. I'm glad that I had him as a teacher, even if it was for such a short period of time.

Bananaboat.

Ha. I fooled you. Trailmix had nothing to do with my last post. I didn't say the word trail, or the word mix in the whole post. I didn't even elude to the mixture f all things good minus raisins.
Unless, it could be a metaphor. My life being the trail. Mix being the "What if" factor of the post. You have no idea which one it is. It's completely up to you to determine the meaning of my writings. I'll never spell it out for you, nor will anybody else.
But! It is me, we're talking about here. My last journal write could have easily been titled "wondering..." or "Queen evil," but it wasn't. Not because neither of those crossed my mind, it was titled "Trailmix" for an incredibly simple reason. I was just eating trailmix.

Trailmix.

Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I didn't live in Juneau. If I had moved away when I had the chance, left this hell hole forever.
I would be tan. My hair would be lighter. I'd be some queen evil at some random high school. I'd know how to swim. I wouldn't be afraid of ticks. I wouldn't have the friends I do now. I'd be louder, more emotional, and more stuck-up.
None of that sounds terrible, until I think of all the things I'd lose if I didn't live here. My best friends, the support and craziness that comes with them wouldn't be there. I'd lose the love of my life. I wouldn't be me. I'd have become much more shallow. I wouldn't care about my family. I wouldn't be as unique as I am now.
As much as I absolutely despise Juneau, I wouldn't change a thing about growing up here. It helped make me who I am now. It gave me experiences that broke me and built me up, and it gave me the crazy to get myself through them.

What Inspires Me.

The little things.

In My Bag.

Assorted eyeliner, at least three
A water bottle, half empty, half full.
Coverup, to mask my flaws
Tacky lotion, that reeks of cupcakes
Heaps of change, congregating at the bottom
A paperclip or two, for nervous moments
Gum wrappers. Mint tin. Lipstick.
A mini papa smurf, the only man I love
Back up glasses, my favorite color
Pens and pencils, for the average school girl
Birth control, keeping me in check
Benadryll to calm my allergies
An iPod, to drown you out
Headphones. Condoms. Check stubs.
A hate letter, addressed to me long ago
A super duck, who defends me from evil villains
A small mirror, traveled from France
Marilynn Monroe, tiny and fire breathing
Blush to give my pale skin color
And eyeshadow, rarely used.
Remnants of yesterday, a randomness I can't control.

What I learned.

In reality, I suppose I haven't learned a whole lot. I lost a teacher that meant more to me than any of my other teachers ever have, I suffered greatly, I moved on like I was supposed to, and now I get to sit and wonder, like I'm supposed to.
Loss isn't easy for anyone, in any sense, but I tend to deal with it by letting go as quickly as possible. I grieve, and then I ignore. It's not the most healthy manner, but after all the suffering and pain, I know what I can and can't handle.
I have learned that you cannot take anything back. Each action is forever in motion, it happened and will never change. There is no going back, all you have now is the present, because you aren't guaranteed a future any more than you are to be a millionaire.
Lives change and grow separate from one another, but you find yourselves intertwined with people you're close to. That's where pain comes from, the hopes and expectations you have. In any case, each person sets themselves up for failure, and falls regardless of the expectation. Nothing is ever quite as it seems.
Although, the climb is worth it. Everybody falls, but not everyone gets back up and tries again. In my mind, everything will be okay with time. Pain dulls, the happy moments shine, and I let myself be taken away in the happiness, because that's really all there is to life.

Obese Pooh Bear.