"Vindication!"

Music: the artist “Neverending White Lights” from the album “Act 1: Goodbye Friends Of the Heavenly Bodies”.

Elizabeth and I have known each other for a very long time. In all actuality, we’ve known each other since the age of five. Technically, that’s over twenty years. (holy shit, Liz-a-Bee!) We attended both Elementary school and early High school together, until she had to move to another city and attend another High-school.

Elizabeth has been keeping me posted via text messages on my cell, regarding the latest developments in Canadian “reality television”. This, based on one very specific purpose, since she watches television, and I haven’t voluntarily picked up a T.V. remote in over a year and a half, and have no intention of doing so in the near future, and also the fact remains that I currently don’t even own a television, from personal choice.

This is largely the result of having much more important things to waste my time on. Like blogging. Or writing my novel, creating my artwork, and reading books. Or working my day job. Also, it’s due to the fact that I find most of the television programming out there utter tripe, stupid, and wholeheartedly unappealing to me.

The particular programme she’s been sending me updates on, has the contestants battling it out in a live in scenario where they are fighting for the right to become the newest MuchMusic V.J. (MuchMusic is the Canadian equivalent of M.T.V., for all my American comrades reading.) I’ve watched a segment of one episode at a friends house.

Now... I’ve a little story for you all. Scootch a little closer children, and hear what Miss Linds has to say. Grab some pillows and some munchies. Ya comfortable? Ok. Good.

I was self-conscious as most early teenagers are; in particular, due to numerous reasons, including molestation at the age of 13, (which threw me mentally off kilter for several years, like you wouldn’t believe) I was overweight, wore glasses, was gentle, quiet, relatively friendless, shy, and musically/artistic/literary oriented child and teenager, and therefore a prime target for the brunt of many cruel jokes and treatment from my “peers”. I’ve never had spectacular self-esteem about my appearance.

I may have hated how it was then, but it made me into the person I am today.

Elizabeth will have to speak for herself. She was always the more confident one of the two of us. It stands to mention, that apart from Aiden Varga, Elizabeth was my only “real” friend in elementary and early high-school. After she left, my “nemesis” Ryan and I became fast friends,(probably due to the fact that we were both tortured for various reasons by our peers) and my collection of people that qualified as human beings expanded from grade ten, onwards.

We were learning our sexuality, being angsty and confused, and rattled by hormones, we were also being surrounded by “new” boys, the ones that came from other schools, that we hadn’t met before. Everyone’s been through the same shit in high-school, so I’m sure this isn’t much of a shocker, and doesn’t require more explanation.

Enter one Mr. Erik Bartek. “El Suave”. Styled black hair, olive complexion, fairly cute face, Nice clothes. He was the guy that other guys would hang around with, wanting to be like, and the guy that the girls would moon after. He was “hot”, and he knew it. Gad did it make him arrogant. The stupid posturing and cliques of adolescents in high-school.

Ugh.

I don’t think I ever really “Mooned” after him, though. I noticed him, but I wasn’t like the scrawny, “pretty” popular chicks. I don’t think I even made a blip on the radar, other than “the geeky, fat girl” to make fun of. It was something I’d become accustomed to.

I was the choir nerd. I was the arts geek. It was only until later on when I’d proved myself repeatedly to be a talented vocalist, in late grade 11 with repeat solo performances in front of my peers, and winning “Best singer” the following year,(though, I don’t hold that in much regard, considering it was the “Grad Survey”) that I was acknowledged by anyone in my grade, really, as a peer. Or even as a person.

The old saying goes: “Children can be cruel.” What it should be is: “Children ARE cruel.”. They just don’t know any better.

El Suave came up to me at the Halloween Dance, (where interestingly enough, I dressed up as a dominatrix. Including a whip. *smirks*) in Grade eight, and asked me if I wanted to dance. Stunned that he would ask me, I replied “Yes” and his retort was to laugh at me, and say “Hah! Why would I want to dance with a fat cow like you?”

After the initial shock and extreme hurt at such a wanton and cruel statement, all I could think was “Well why the hell did you even ask me then?”

My physical response was to kick him as viciously and hard as I could in the shin with my knee high shit-kicker boots. He went down. Hard. The bastard deserved it.

It shouldn’t stick in my brain, but it did, as a stinging example for me as to how NOT to treat other people. That, coincidentally enough, was the first and last dance I attended in High-school, other than my graduation banquet dance. I didn’t need the bullshit tossed at me. I didn’t need more random acts of cruelty from my peers.

It’s not something I dwell on, usually. I had my own successes. By the time I graduated high-school, I knew a third of the students in the school by name and talked to them regularly. That was enough for me. I had stopped giving a fuck as to what I looked like to other people, and developed my own personal sense of style. I was sick of the posturing, and the cliques. I had friends that I loved and trusted. (And still hang out with to this day.) I didn’t disregard people because of body weight, size, race, intelligence, age or culture. I was open enough with all of them. They just had to give me a chance, because I would give them a chance.

I don’t look fondly upon high-school, and am contemplating not attending my High-school ten-year reunion in 2008, because of the attitudes of the people there that left a sour taste in my mouth for the majority of my time in my secondary school, until I became someone of “notice”, and therefore worthy of their attention.

Erik Bartek, Mr. “El Suave” was a contestant on the MuchMusic V.J. Search.

“El Suave”, *just* got kicked off a few nights ago. He was the weakest link, Goodbye. He was voted off of the island. He wasn’t the next American (or Canadian) Idol. the Canadian public saw through his phony facade on the little silver screen. They saw through the machismo, the pretty boy looks and the cheesy acting, and picked up on the arrogance he seems to have refrained from leaving behind in highschool. I’m absolutely-fucking-thrilled.

In my opinion he got through the auditioning process strictly because of the fact that his audition video was him with a piece of paper with the “Much” logo printed on it taped to his cock while he bragged about how he “good he would look” on screen. I mean, Fuck, man. Someone that made decisions in the auditioning process actually bought that bullshit?

Here’s a tip for you, Mr. Bartek: Karma, is a bitch.

I refrained from writing anything about you while you were still on the show, to give you a fair chance with the voting public that might “Google” your name, and because I gave you the benefit of the doubt, hoping that in 8 years you might have grown up, just a little. However, from your behaviour on the show, you haven’t really changed at all. How very disappointing.

I refrained from writing this, to be fair to you, and give you the chance you “won” with the auditioning process, even though you weren’t fair to me 8 years ago. You had five years to apologize for treating me like shit and the only reason why was because I was different. You never took the opportunity to do so, and instead chose to laugh at the cruelty you inflicted upon an innocent person.

Now, it’s open season.

Egocentrism and arrogance isn’t something that should be rewarded. You had your 15 minutes of fame, and then the giant hook yanked you off from stage-left. The country got to see your inner machinations, and they did not approve. For once, reality television has proven itself useful, and now, it’s my turn to laugh at you, Mr. Bartek.