Weekly Journal Entry
English-9b
Mr. Bates
Your name here
Q-What do you think is the best thing and the worst thing about living in a small town?
The very worst part, I have found, of living in a small town is the older you get, the more people you get to know. Like at first my world must have been pretty small, just Mom and Dad and my older sister. Same for all of us. Then maybe a few people your parents know are suddenly there. If you're lucky, a kid or two lives next door. And if you're a super lucky kid like me, you get to meet people like Baby and Princess Poo-Poo too. But then it is like BAM when you start school. All of a sudden you know 30 people your own age. Then 30 more and 30 more of all ages. By third grade you know everyone in the school. And some of their parents and some of their friends and the teachers, the people on your streets. It just keeps going on and on. There's 600 kids at this high school, there were only 200 in my elementary. So many new county kids. And you got to be so nice and happy and friendly to everyone of everyone all the time. That's tough, I think, even for the average person to accomplish. I don't know exactly everyone in town yet, but I'm pretty sure I will achieve that by the time I'm 20. That's like 8000 people, at least. I know people from lots of places. But here, I will know who is from where is from what. Some inside and all of out. The worst part about living in a small town for someone like me is everyone has always known who I am. And if any of their brains were starting to get forgetful, the news reminded them a lot this summer. I was everywhere.
The best part about living in a small town is clean air, I think. My one grandmother lives in Hamilton and the other lives in Toronto. I get home from those places and I'm always coughing for days afterwards. Blue skies here don't mean blue skies there. In fact, most of the times I have been to those cities, the skies are paler, greyer, even when they’re blue. But it's worth going always anyway. Everywhere you look in those cities, there are people you don't know. So many meaningless faces everywhere. My grandma in Toronto doesn't even know her next door neighbour! But who cares about that? Grandma knows everyone at MuchMusic and I get to go there ALL the time. They’re getting to know me too, remembering my name and a lot of them say, Wear that red lipstick all the time, so I'm gonna because who knows...future and all, right? I think I would like to live there. Live where I get to choose what people I know. I wouldn't have to know 8,000 people and they wouldn't have to know me. I could probably get away with knowing 800 in a big city like Toronto. And I could choose what they would know about me. But probably not now. Because it has all been brought up again. After twelve years. My face everywhere. National newscasts and papers for over a week. So who knows when they will do it again.
I feel like I can’t do nothing.
I don’t want this backstory.
Sometimes, Baby and Princess Poo-Poo are more real to me than my own parents. But this is not the time or place to contemplate them or that. I suppose that if you ask the right questions, sometime in the future, I will have to answer them.
Ugh. Tap it out. Erase. Delete. Conform. I can't. We have to write it in pen. In this irreplaceable notebook that you have given us. But I can rip this page out. Start over. Here we go.
The best part about living in a small town is the clean air. I love clean air. It's the best, don’t you agree? I go to big cities a lot and trust me, small towns have way better air. And water. And we have trees that are, you know, big and alive and giving us that air and they are beautiful to look at, don’t you agree? Me too!. I don't see too many trees in Toronto, when I go there, but the ones I do see are little. True fact. And trees are pretty important, so Toronto needs to get more. Like yesterday! Don’t they know we’d all be dead if not for the trees?! I’m getting pretty deep here, right?
OK, now the worst part about a small town is there’s nothing to do, don’t you agree? It’s so boring. I like listening to music loud sometimes, but because I have neighbours and I have to be nice and friendly, I can't do it as much as would like to...Actually, the worst part about living in a small town is the concerts. Who have we had here in the last year? Kim Mitchell. He might rock, but he's not cool,. Don’t you agree?
Ugh. I'm too tired for this. I can't possibly come up with anymore this late at night and meet that crappy full page, front and back requirement of yours. So, I've decided to keep the first page in. And this one too. It's probably close to the limit, but I'm not going to count lines and make sure of it or anything. Besides, I write too hard with pen anyway. You're a teacher and so probably smart enough to notice the imprints my writing makes on future pages. Smart enough to lightly scratch the pencil on a thinner sheet of paper and then decipher what I wrote anyway, I’m sure.
Uh-oh. This one. She's flagged. Might be trouble. What’s with the lipstick? Could be the suicide note.
High school's gonna really suck.
Maybe I will just lose this notebook on my way to class tomorrow morning. Or I could get my sister to do one of her cool hairspray tricks that she likes doing so much.
English-9b
Mr. Bates
Your name here
Q-What do you think is the best thing and the worst thing about living in a small town?
The very worst part, I have found, of living in a small town is the older you get, the more people you get to know. Like at first my world must have been pretty small, just Mom and Dad and my older sister. Same for all of us. Then maybe a few people your parents know are suddenly there. If you're lucky, a kid or two lives next door. And if you're a super lucky kid like me, you get to meet people like Baby and Princess Poo-Poo too. But then it is like BAM when you start school. All of a sudden you know 30 people your own age. Then 30 more and 30 more of all ages. By third grade you know everyone in the school. And some of their parents and some of their friends and the teachers, the people on your streets. It just keeps going on and on. There's 600 kids at this high school, there were only 200 in my elementary. So many new county kids. And you got to be so nice and happy and friendly to everyone of everyone all the time. That's tough, I think, even for the average person to accomplish. I don't know exactly everyone in town yet, but I'm pretty sure I will achieve that by the time I'm 20. That's like 8000 people, at least. I know people from lots of places. But here, I will know who is from where is from what. Some inside and all of out. The worst part about living in a small town for someone like me is everyone has always known who I am. And if any of their brains were starting to get forgetful, the news reminded them a lot this summer. I was everywhere.
The best part about living in a small town is clean air, I think. My one grandmother lives in Hamilton and the other lives in Toronto. I get home from those places and I'm always coughing for days afterwards. Blue skies here don't mean blue skies there. In fact, most of the times I have been to those cities, the skies are paler, greyer, even when they’re blue. But it's worth going always anyway. Everywhere you look in those cities, there are people you don't know. So many meaningless faces everywhere. My grandma in Toronto doesn't even know her next door neighbour! But who cares about that? Grandma knows everyone at MuchMusic and I get to go there ALL the time. They’re getting to know me too, remembering my name and a lot of them say, Wear that red lipstick all the time, so I'm gonna because who knows...future and all, right? I think I would like to live there. Live where I get to choose what people I know. I wouldn't have to know 8,000 people and they wouldn't have to know me. I could probably get away with knowing 800 in a big city like Toronto. And I could choose what they would know about me. But probably not now. Because it has all been brought up again. After twelve years. My face everywhere. National newscasts and papers for over a week. So who knows when they will do it again.
I feel like I can’t do nothing.
I don’t want this backstory.
Sometimes, Baby and Princess Poo-Poo are more real to me than my own parents. But this is not the time or place to contemplate them or that. I suppose that if you ask the right questions, sometime in the future, I will have to answer them.
Ugh. Tap it out. Erase. Delete. Conform. I can't. We have to write it in pen. In this irreplaceable notebook that you have given us. But I can rip this page out. Start over. Here we go.
The best part about living in a small town is the clean air. I love clean air. It's the best, don’t you agree? I go to big cities a lot and trust me, small towns have way better air. And water. And we have trees that are, you know, big and alive and giving us that air and they are beautiful to look at, don’t you agree? Me too!. I don't see too many trees in Toronto, when I go there, but the ones I do see are little. True fact. And trees are pretty important, so Toronto needs to get more. Like yesterday! Don’t they know we’d all be dead if not for the trees?! I’m getting pretty deep here, right?
OK, now the worst part about a small town is there’s nothing to do, don’t you agree? It’s so boring. I like listening to music loud sometimes, but because I have neighbours and I have to be nice and friendly, I can't do it as much as would like to...Actually, the worst part about living in a small town is the concerts. Who have we had here in the last year? Kim Mitchell. He might rock, but he's not cool,. Don’t you agree?
Ugh. I'm too tired for this. I can't possibly come up with anymore this late at night and meet that crappy full page, front and back requirement of yours. So, I've decided to keep the first page in. And this one too. It's probably close to the limit, but I'm not going to count lines and make sure of it or anything. Besides, I write too hard with pen anyway. You're a teacher and so probably smart enough to notice the imprints my writing makes on future pages. Smart enough to lightly scratch the pencil on a thinner sheet of paper and then decipher what I wrote anyway, I’m sure.
Uh-oh. This one. She's flagged. Might be trouble. What’s with the lipstick? Could be the suicide note.
High school's gonna really suck.
Maybe I will just lose this notebook on my way to class tomorrow morning. Or I could get my sister to do one of her cool hairspray tricks that she likes doing so much.
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