ALL beginnings are new beginnings.

What a great day. What a super-fantastic-jumpingupanddown day.

1. Shop: I have a 73 average!

2. Geography: Well, hopefully I didn't fail the test, like a third of the class did.

3. French: Okay, this was incredible. That test I thought I failed? I got perfect. *utter breathtaking shock* I'm gonna shut up from now on until I actually know I failed. I then spent the remainder of the period cutting and stapling my sweater.

4. Music: obviously amazing. I have to take music in grade ten. It's the only thing I look forward to at school.

5. Lunch: Strawberries!

6. Bio: Test postponed! Alicia and I wrote letters.

7. English: I actually listened to Gordon today. You know, it's astonishing the amount of tripe spewing from her mouth. If you take the time to listen, you never know what you might learn about our species. That wore off though, so Marisa, Jocelyne, and I devised evil plans for the future.

8. Photography: I love this year. I really really do. I have a light-tight canister with two undeveloped rolls of film in my locker, seeing as I had to leave. It's great though. Whoo.

9. Guitar. We were both in full form today, and had some great conversations about the awesome power of the metronome and the awesome blandness of the bilge on the radio. And did you know that Ken wotsisname of the MSO conducted some for Frank Zappa?

Neil: Every time I hear that song [Comfortably Numb], I think of Bob Dylan. And I don't know why, but it's really funny. You know who it was that put that idea in my head?" *insert long and very entertaining story about what Frank Zappa said about Bob Dylan or to Bob Dylan or about/to a Bob Dylan imitator* Yeah, so that's why I think of Bob Dylan when I hear that. And all that to say, there are a lot of songs written in the relative minor of D.

I could go into how small the English-Speaking Montreal community is, seeing as Sara and my father (who has started taking guitar lessons. Isn't he great?) are now connected in more ways than two, although they have never met. I won't.

If you look at fiction through the ages, a number of interesting patterns begin to surface. What I like the best, however, is the advent of the Fantasy genre (happens to be my favourite, and is NOT EVER to be confused with Sci-Fi in my presence). Fairy and folk tales from once upon a time often run along some variation of this: poor person becomes rich person (often because of their cleverness or kind nature). Obviously, when times were so harsh, many people wanted to escape from reality by imagining that this was possible, that if they were lucky or nice or smart, they could rise above their humble beginnings and live happily ever after.

Fantasy is a story set in a different world. Not a different country. Not a different social class. A world new and yet-unspoiled by human greed. Writers and readers have come to a silent agreement that the tales of success in this world are no longer; instead, we dream of some miraculous rebirth, some way to start over again. We've given up hope for our own world.

Dear Master Noran: I need your blogdress.

Autumn is.