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Olena's Journal: July 15

Why did I think coming back to Smallsville Saskatchewan for the summer was a good idea? I mean, really – what was I thinking? I could be in Vancouver right now, taking a couple of courses to get ready for med school. I could be in Africa or Indonesia on volunteer work, doing something useful with my life. Instead I listened to my parents.

“You’ve worked so hard since you went away to school – you need a rest,” said my mother. Because it’s so incredibly restful to sneak out in advance of the passive-aggressive bickering when the other parent enters the room already occupied by one. “Your sister has really missed you; you should spend some time with her,” said my dad. Because we all know Katarina gets exactly what she wants from our parents, in thanks for saving their doomed marriage with her birth. “Your sensei would give you a job for the summer.” Mom again, and the only thing she was right about. What Mom doesn’t know is that I’m his equal in Aikido now, and his teacher in Kali, the new Art I picked up at UBC. It hasn’t even occurred to her to ask what those two black wooden sticks are that I keep in my bag. Then again, she may not have noticed them; after all, no good Canadian girl goes around armed, and if they did, I’m sure Mom would think of “armed” in terms of rounds per minute.

I tried to get together with my high school friends last night. We got there at eight – “Oh, the twins took forever to go to sleep, I couldn’t slip away until now” – and they all had to go by ten – “You know, you’re so lucky not to have a toddler who will have you up at five-thirty no matter how late you were out the night before!” Three of them, all laughing in unison. Since they graduated high school, their collective trips to Regina or Saskatoon can be counted on one hand. I don’t think Mandy has been at all. The farm and the twins keep her too busy.

Ugh. Anyway, the private dorm room I got comes open on August 15th. I’ll be there on the 16th. It’s only a month away. I survived a refugee camp in Rwanda last summer with Doctors without Borders. I can survive a few more weeks in a sleepy one-horse town where the biggest social justice issue is littering.

EDIT: Guys, I keep a livejournal so people can commiserate with me when I’m whining. Where is everyone? Surely that Guatemalan flu thing hasn’t got you all shutting off your computers? It’s just a few old folks in hospitals in Toronto, right? It’ll blow over like all the others.

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