Bounce

There was a time in Kyla Steeves' life when she was a bully. Surprisingly, the quiet girl who sat in class was not so quiet on the playground. She discovered the power of having a clique, not knowing the cruelty which resulted because of one. However, at this time Kyla did not know what a clique was, she was part of what was considered a series of clubs. There was the monkey bar club, the tree club, the under the deck club, so many clubs and so many opportunities to leave other kids out. Kyla would like to blame her unfriendliness on her one friend who exerted so much power over her. However, there was no excuse for the way Kyla chose friends in elementary and how she stabbed others in the back. The turnaround point for Kyla occurred in the fifth grade when she became friends with the new girl. At this point, she realized that it was much cooler to just have friends rather than being associated with the “pleather jacket” club. Kyla thought the club days were behind her until she experienced a clique on a whole new level at camp. There was the Lethbridge E-Free clique who thought they owned the place. Outsiders called them the "perfect 10" because the clique consisted of the five prettiest girls and the five best looking boys at camp. If you were not from Lethbridge E-Free, you were a nobody in their eyes. Of course the members were always nice but it was in a fake way, so there was no way you could even try to connect with them. As a result, Kyla decided that she was fed up with cliques and never wanted to be a part of one. However, during her freshmen year at Providence, Kyla hung out with a certain group of friends for most of the first semester. They called themselves the "quadpod" because there was four of them. This name was not used to reinforce their clique but to mock the fact that they kind of were a clique. Unfortunately, Kyla spent half of the year with these three others and quickly realized all the other people she was missing out on. Therefore, the quadpod eventually dispersed. It was not that they quit being friends altogether, it was that they didn’t need each other anymore. Amazingly enough, they didn’t need to be with each other every minute of every day. Today, Kyla prides herself on not belonging to a certain group. She is content with the fact that she has friends but they are not a set group who needs to be with each other all the time. Kyla is a strong individual who does not have to rely on a group to make her feel secure. All in all, Kyla Steeves would much rather bounce from friend to friend than only hang out with a single group of friends.

Blood-its in YOU to GIVE

About two years ago, my sister had this bright idea of donating blood on Valentine's Day. She is pretty cheesy and thought it was clever to literally give your heart away on this special day. Of course I was all for it, a little scared but incredibly excited. My sister is a donation slut because her blood type is O Rh negative which is considered the universal donor. Therefore, she feels that it is her obligation to go as often as possible. In fact, she and her friends have made donating blood a game. It has become a competition to see who can pump their blood out the fastest. Oddly enough, my sister has passed out because of this ridiculous game they created. However, for this one day considering that it was my first time she would not make it a race. When we got to the donation center I started to get extremely nervous. There is this lengthy process you must go through in order to donate blood, certain tests you must pass. I passed the first test which was to see if your iron levels were up to standard. It was kind of gross to watch a drop of my blood fall in a certain liquid. Next, I had to fill out an extremely long survey. This took forever but when I was done I had to sit through a short interview. This is where I failed. They discovered that I got a peircing recently so I was not elligible to donate blood. In fact, I had to wait a whole six months before I could! I was so angry that one tiny piercing stopped me from donating blood. As a result, I was forced to sit at a table watching my sister and her friend donate blood for the zillionth time while I could not even donate blood once. To this day, I have yet to donate blood. However, today I saw a sign for donating blood by the cafeteria. This sign is clear enough for me, it is totally directed at me to finally give my blood away. It is about time I find out what my blood type is. It is about time I get to save someone. It is about time my blood gets put to good use.

no offense

Have you ever been so offended that it brought you close to tears? A situation in which you cannot believe someone could be that inconsiderate? At the time you feel as if you are going to burst with anger, that it is going to take everything in you to stop yourself from going ape on that person. You simply just walk away knowing that your back will burn them more than your words. Well, I cannot handle these situations because as soon as I walk away I feel horrible. My guilty conscience grabs a hold of my mind and plays tricks on it. Instead of focusing my anger on that person who ticked me off, I channel that anger towards myself. Somehow I am able to convince myself that it was my fault all along. As a result, I sit there thinking of the type of apology I need to use when in reality, I have nothing to apologize for. As in all cases, that person who offended me never actually says sorry and I find someway to tell them that I feel bad and that I'm sorry. A couple days later I find myself reassessing the situation and realizing that I should actually be mad. However, it is too late to give that person the silent treatment because I already convinced them that I didn't care that they offended me. Therefore, if I acted mad towards that person they would be super confused as to why I am not speaking to them. Nonetheless, I do this anyways hoping that that person will have the brains to know why I am quiet around them so that they can just say sorry and we all can just move on. They never do. I finally reach the point of realizing that I am overreacting and I move on. That person will never know that I was ever mad at them. It's a crazy trend of mine.

True Thoughts of a MOH

The sand was cold beneath her feet. Why on earth was it freezing on a beautiful day in July? The weather didn’t look promising in the morning when the bride, mother of the bride and every bridesmaid looked out the farmhouse window only to see hopeless rain. With tears streaming down the bride’s face of seeing a ruined beach wedding, the mother of the bride and beloved sister tried desperately to calm her down. Soon enough, the clouds parted, allowing the sun to shine through and the maid of honour to sigh with relief at the sight of a thankful bride. As the day proceeded, however, the weather posed as a threat to her sister’s dream wedding. The wedding party had successfully managed to make it to their spots on the beach front thanks to the father of the bride pushing to get the wedding started. Unfortunately, a huge storm cloud was rolling in from the west causing the bride to panic frantically. As the sister stood there, smooshing her feet in the cold sand waiting for the bride, she thought of how disastrous it was going to be if the cloud made its way over the wedding before it ended. Silently, she laughed to herself, not because she wished her sister something as unfortunate as that on the most important day of her life but because if it did happen, her wedding could definitely top her sisters. It wasn’t fair that her sister got the camp wedding. Now her mother had pressure on her to have a traditional church wedding. All of these thoughts were running through her mind until she looked up and saw her sister walking with her father down the boardwalk. Honestly, she had never seen someone that beautiful. A very cliché thing to think at a wedding, but she thought it nonetheless. Her father shook the groom’s hands and although the maid of honour could not see clearly, she knew her father had tears in his eyes. Jealousy covered the sister’s heart; her older sister was the first to go, thus, getting the most emotion out of their father. She wondered whether or not her father would even cry by the time she got married. “Hallelujah!” he would be sure to say. The bride and the groom made their way to the altar where the pastor blabbed something about love. What a horrible sister she was. She had no desire to pay attention to the lovely words that came out of his mouth and when she looked down the line of bridesmaids, she and her younger sister on the end were the only one not in tears. What was wrong with the Steeves girls? Did they inherit some sort of cold hearted gene? As the pastor announced the couple as man and wife, the sister felt an ounce of an emotion at the thought of losing her sister but it soon passed. Why was she so cynical? Why couldn’t she cry like the other loyal bridesmaids? Why was she so concerned about the speech she had to make at the reception? Why did she keep asking herself why? Frustrated, she manually shut off her brain and continued the rest of the wedding as the robotic maid of honour. Thankfully, the nasty storm cloud seemed to pause above their heads until the wedding was over and everything was put away and then it down poured. The maid of honour thought what a beautiful wedding it turned out to be despite the threatening storm cloud, too bad her mind was elsewhere for most of it.

Jase

Jase and I have a special connection. I love being with him. For the past two years I have spent a lot of time with him. He takes me places. This summer he took me to work, waited until I was done and then took me back home. He will take me and my friends on random slurpee runs, shopping trips, and girls night outs with no complaints. He is extremely reliable, always there when I need him. Especially on those gross days where I hate the world, he'll take me for a ride and after I feel so refreshed. I like that he is always there for the hard times, it doesn't matter where I want to go, he'll take me. The thing is that my dad picked him for me himself, having my father's approval means everything. As well, my friends love him. In fact, everyone is jealous of him. I have a friend that wants to take him away from me every Thursday for three hours, and I can't let her do it, I never know when I want to spend time with him. The best thing about him is that he never talks, not unless I need him to, meaning he'll let other people know when I'm pissed off. Also, he'll listen to my music, and not say a word about it. He is truly the best. Is it illegal to marry your car? Because I think I just might.

Kyla

I have always envied people whose names have been used in a song. Any Stephens in this world are lucky because they made it in a Taylor Swift song, Hey Stephen or I wish my name was Brittany so I could star in a Forever the Sickest Kids song, Hey Brittany. Honestly, I want an artist to say Hey to me, or other Kylas in the world for that matter. Unfortunately, Kyla is not an extremely popular name like Stacy or Jesse. However, I am glad my name is not Stacy because I wouldn't want people saying that my mom has got it going on. On the other hand, every Jesse in this world has become the coolest guy because Rick Springfield gave him a girl that everyone wants. Well, I was about ready to give up on my dream of having my name in a song until a friend informed me that there had been a song released with my name, just my name, as the title. I was so happy until he told me who it was by, the Swollen Members. Instantly I was crushed but I checked the song out nonetheless. Back in the day, I used to be a huge fan of rap, so I thought, "meh, I'm pretty gangster, I guess it's appropriate." Hearing the song crushed my heart. Over and over I've listened to it and it has no relevance to my name whatsoever. What I could understand of the song was that it was about drug dealing, maybe. What a waste of a dream! This will be the only song EVER with my name in it and I don't even know what it is about. I googled the meaning behind the song and apparently the title was inspired by their friend Kyla who is an insane violinist and plays in the song. LAME! I want a second chance with this dream. Not fair.

Facebook Abuser

In response to my latest blog, I deeply regret having my Uncle Ryan who is really Uncle Rodi on facebook. I forgot how much this uncle likes to talk. Last year he discovered how to text. This would not necessarily be a problem considering most of us would rather text than talk on the phone, but he abused this power. Once he found out my number, he sent me a "what are you doing" text almost every day. Apparently, he did this to my other cousins and none of them responded. However, I did not know this so I answered every one of his texts. Fortunately, he did not start a huge text conversation after that, they ended fast, but he would consistently send me that text at the worst times. Often, it would be at six in the morning. At Christmas he told me that I was his favourite because I was the only neice that responded. I like being the favourite but after that I quit. Now he has moved on to bigger and better things, facebook chat. He never fails to pop up on my facebook daily with random questions. Unlike text, he is far more creative. Sometimes it will be "why aren't you in bed" or my favourite, "got a boyfriend yet". I love my uncle and think he is hilarious but when facebook chat gets slower and slower the more people you talk to, I'd rather he not be one of them. I wonder what technology he'll annoy me with next?