I Don’t Know What To Write About

Inbar Levona


Hello North Toronto. You’re probably wondering “oh wow, what story does Inbar have for us this edition of Graffiti?! I bet it’s going to be hilarious.” I guarantee at least one of you blew out the candles on your birthday cake wishing for another brilliant anecdotal story by me (please not the sarcasm). I’m going to crush your dreams now. I do not know what to write about because my life is boring. Instead of telling you something that happened to me, as I normally do, I’m going to write my thoughts down in an eloquent manner, as being in grade 12 is detrimental to my social life.

Here’s a question I have for all of you. Google could not answer it, and neither could my friends at my parents’ Hanukkah party. What happens when you add powdered milk to regular milk? Does it become concentrated? Does it taste better? Is this an alternative form to making cream? I don’t have any powdered milk at home, but if someone does, then I will gladly take it off their hands to perform this experiment. I will report my findings to the world as soon as possible. I can practically hear the Nobel Prize scratching at my door so that it can nestle itself in between my “most improved in Computer‘s Class” certificate and 4th place soccer trophy from grade 3.

Another thing, why do people insist on dressing up their dogs? It’s mind boggling, and frankly inhumane. I understand the extra vest during the winter, and maybe slippers so that salt doesn’t get lodged in its paws, but parkas? Pants? Tutus? And what about all the competitions where you dye your dog’s fur and shape it into something to make your dog look like a robot or a flower? HOW CAN THERE BE PRIZES FOR BEING AN ASSHOLE TO YOUR DOG. It’s just so aggravating. If you have enough money to buy vomit-inducing pom-pom boots for your dog, you have enough money to donate to a charitable cause, perhaps my charity that I have just established on a whim; Urban Dog Fund – Saving dogs from stupid owners who dress them up in uncomfortable clothing.

I hope all of you had a nice holiday break. I can’t tell you what I did on New Year’s because I am writing this on December 25th, and I can’t tell you a nice Christmas story because I am Jewish. I just ate some quiche. It was delicious.

My mom recently bought flavoured cream cheese. Don’t get me started on Garden Vegetable. At night, I get hungry because I never eat at normal times (I’m sure many of my classmates can attest to this) so I tend to wander down to the kitchen and eat weird organic rice crackers with flavoured cream cheese. At first I eat because I’m hungry, but I don’t stop once I’m comfortably full. Being the gluttonous girl that I am, I eat those rice crackers and flavoured cream cheese until I feel like puking because I might as well take advantage of my high metabolism while I can. Then I feel guilty because there are far too many people who are living under the poverty line. It’s really a horrible cycle that’s causing my mental health to deteriorate.

Honest Ed’s is a great place. I hope you’ve been there. They sell Elvis Presley busts for $29.99. I was walking around, and an Elvis bust was placed behind a mirrored pillar, sending me into a state of shock, as I thought a pale man with too much blue eye-shadow was watching me. I bought 2 sweaters at Honest Ed’s, each for $5.99. I felt guilty, not because I had eaten as many as I could, but because blind children in Pakistan had probably made these. Do you think guilt is like a spirit? If I asked a rabbi to perform an exorcism, would he be able to remove the overpowering amount of guilt contained in my frail body? It’s a question worth asking.

I visited Honest Ed’s on a separate occasion with a friend. We visited the carpet section, and I slept on the pile of shag rugs for a couple of minutes. I will tell you this probably more than once, shag rugs are more comfortable than a mattress. There were 5 of them, all in assorted colours, piled atop one another. I was in heaven, with little nylon fabric anemone whispering reasons why I should buy all of the rugs there. I didn’t because they were 50 dollars apiece, but they are an investment I am considering to make.

I apologize for not being more interesting. I hope the thought of adding powdered milk to regular milk is enough to soothe your aching heart. If anyone does have powdered milk, please come find me and let me know, I am determined to find out what happens when I add it to other stuff. Maybe I’ll go wild and mix it with juice. Or soymilk.