Blog Address Change

Attention followers!

I'm changing my blog address to: http://squidluuu.blogspot.com/

All posts and comments will be imported to the new blog, and all my posts will be there from now on.

I will delete this blog after a few days.

Thanks :)

Read more

Losing It

I think I'm slowly losing interest in Mr. Smiles. (If you don't know who I am talking about, you should go back to the October entry titled "Mr. Smiles." You should also probably read "Rocket Science.")

Perhaps part of the reason I was so obsessed was because he was mysterious. I can't help but be curious about the unknown.

But now that I've unraveled the mystery the slightest bit, I find that I am no longer eager to know more.

Oh, I will always look upon his smile and think that it's gorgeous--there's no doubt about that--but I won't let my heart stop at the sight of it.

Life goes on.

Read more

You Can Look But You Can't Touch

Our class went to see a museum exhibit today, and I couldn't bring myself to stand near him. I tried to stay as far away from him as possible.

And I have no freaking clue why.

Maybe it's because he makes me nervous. And I felt like he was looking at me. Like, when he came into the room where we all put our backpacks, I felt like he was staring at me. And even while we were walking around looking at all the ancient artifacts, I thought he kept glancing over at me.

Or maybe this is all in my head, which really wouldn't be surprising.

This is making me so frustrated. Why can't I just act normal around guys?

Read more

Boy-Watch Lingo

Okay, I am officially making boy-watching a sport now. And all official sports must have written rules, so here we go--the cardinal rules for boy-watching.

Rule #1:
Be discreet. DO NOT be caught boy-watching by the person/people you are ogling. Wear sunglasses if you must.

Rule #2:
You may never refer to the person you are watching by their actual name or any nickname that is easily decipherable by the public, and especially not the person being watched. Hence, Rule #3.

Rule #3:
Persons being watched should have bizarre/obscure nicknames. The more bizzare/obscure, the better.

For example, my favourite boy-watching target is called "Mona." This comes from Mona Lisa, which is referring to his Mona Lisa smile. No one would ever be able to guess this.

Hint: giving this person a girl's name is a good idea.

Rule #4:
Speak the lingo.

You should never say, "He's the one in the blue stripes." It would be much better to say, "Sky tiger." Concise, yet descriptive. Abbreviations are your friends.

Here are some words that you may want to use:
Tiger=stripes
Cheetah=polka dots (although I don't think guys wear polka dots?)
Mad=plaid
Paul/Jack=something that a stereotypical lumberjack would wear; red & black plaid/checkered
Ralph=polo shirt
Zippy/Z=zip up sweatshirt/a sweatshirt
BD=button down shirt
Earl=t-shirt
Knit=sweater/long-sleeved shirt
Machines=jeans
Max=slacks
Marilyn=blond hair
Hershey=brown hair
Night=black hair/dark hair
Rose=red hair
Jimmy=skinny person
Half-full=slightly chubby person
Lemon Squeezy/Lemon=chubby person
Eiffel=tall person
Briefs=short person
Pisa=leaning/slouching
Parked=standing
Duck=sitting
On the Ringer=talking on the phone

Colours (basically, anything that is commonly perceived to be that colour):

Bloody=red
Pumpkin=orange
Banana=yellow
Grass=green
Sky=blue
Grape=purple
Cheeks=pink
Wood=brown
Sharpie=black

etc, etc.

Miscellaneous:
Apple=someone you're interested in
Venus=girl
Mars=guy
Lambda=gay
Buried Treasure/Sunken Ship=ex-boyfriend/someone you've slept with

So here's an example of how I might describe Mona to my friend: "Mona's the Eiffel Marilyn in the Bloody Tiger Ralph and Machines. He's Parked next to that Jimmy Venus who's On the Ringer. Definitely an Apple."

Okay, so that's kind of ridiculous, but it's loads of fun.

Read more

Rocket Science

Okay, so I have terrible stage fright. Public speaking is probably one of my greatest fears ever.

But in spite of that, last night I went to a poetry slam and gave an impromptu performance.

And guess what my poem was called? "Sudoku Master." Yeah. You know.

I promised myself (and some of my friends) that I would talk to him. I mean, the semester is more than half over. I don't have much time left to get him to notice me. I can't just sit around staring at him like I do normally.

So, yesterday, I talked to him.

When he came into class and after he had sat down and gotten settled in his desk, I said, "Hey, how's your rocket science class going?"

And he said, "Sweeet." And smiled. And there was an explosion of rainbows and sunshine in my brain. Anyway.

Then we continued talking about it and he revealed that he would be launching a rocket on Saturday morning. Too bad I can't be there to see it.

And then a bit later, we were talking about who skipped lecture, and who sits where in lecture. And I said to him, "You always sit in the front!" Because he does. God, I would never sit in the front.

And he was like, "Yeahhh." SMILING. SMILING. SMILING.

I said, "I saw you asleep in lecture today." He laughed and imitated himself slumped over in the chair. SMILEFEST.

He's simply dazzling (and no his name is not Edward and he is not a vampire).

Oh, and did I mention that he looked exceptionally stunning in a fitted black sweater? Like, more stunning that he usually does? (If he gets any more stunning I swear the world's going to explode.)

His eyes look hazelish, and he has long eyelashes, like many guys do. He's gorgeous. He is god-like.

My goal is to be his friend by the end of this semester. Because I'm pretty sure that I won't ever see him again after this. The university is huge, and there's like an infinite selection of classes. I don't think I'll get lucky again. I feel like there must be some purpose in us being in this class together. I don't know what it is though.

He looks lonely though. So maybe I'm just supposed to talk to him and wipe away the stress and sadness in his life, just for an hour, twice a week. Maybe that's it. And you know what? That's perfectly okay. More than okay.

I think guys are more complicated than rocket science.

You dazzle me, Sudoku Boy.

Read more

Give and Take

Give and Take

Long time no see, babe
Long time no see
I don't know where you been,
But it wasn't here,
No, it wasn't here.

I'm wondering where you've gone,
Why you've vanished from my sight.
No news is good news, they say
But I want news from you.

All of a sudden now you're here
And I can't contain my surprise.
I think if you knew how much I missed you,
You'd never leave again.

You're my miracle of the day,
Then you've the nerve to take it back.
I don't know where you've gone,
But when are you coming home?

Read more

Mr. Smiles

I think I may have found the BEST smile in the world.

And the guy who owns it? Yeah, he's in my class. It's extremely hard not to stare at him the whole time.

Sometimes I see him smiling or laughing to himself, and once I said something and he turned his head away like he was trying to hide his smile.

A couple weeks ago, I had a newspaper sudoku on my desk, and he had just walked in the door. My friend sits between us, and she wasn't here yet. I was so immersed in my sudoku that I didn't notice him standing behind me looking over my shoulder. Then I heard: "So, are you a sudoku master?" (Greatest pickup line ever. Haha.)

I nearly had a heart attack. I totally wasn't expecting it. He doesn't talk much, almost never in class, and here he was, talking to ME. I was gobsmacked. Then I managed to blurt, "Oh no, I just do them for fun." Which probably made me seem like a huge nerd, but it was better than not saying anything at all. I think.

And then today, I had a midterm, so I got to lecture really early. I walked in just as the other class before me got let out. I was walking down the aisle toward my seat, looking at the ground and trying not to get trampled or step on people's feet. Then all of a sudden I looked up, and there he was, right in front of me.

At that exact moment, he looked up too, and for a second he looked a little surprised. Then he smiled and said, "Oh, hey." It was grey and cloudy outside and I had a midterm in five minutes, but that smile of his made everything go away.

I mean, HE SMILED AT ME. At me. He recognized me. Acknowledged my existence.

I nearly melted right into the carpet. But instead, I smiled back and said, "Hey." Because how can you NOT smile when a gorgeous guy-who-could-be-a-Greek-god is smiling at you? Exactly. You can't.

That smile stayed in my head all day.

Unfortunately, sometimes he looks kind of stressed out and sad. Whenever I see him like that, I want to say, "SMILE, damn you." Sadness doesn't belong in anyone's life, but especially not in his. Anything that can make a smile like that disappear has got to be pure evil.

I want to make him smile again.

Read more

To Hell With Inhibition

I was reminiscing about fun times I've had at camp, and it made me think of him.

We haven't seen or spoken to each other in four years, and this is the first time I have thought of him again. He's always been nestled in the back of my mind, and sometimes when I see people on the street, there's a small flash of recognition but I've never put a name to it.

Unfortunately, I've had to add him to my long list of regrets.

He was flirty and obnoxious and cute, and I don't think I realised those things back then. He was just a boy (okay, a good-looking boy) that made me feel nervous as all boys did and still do. I look back and feel flattered that he flirted with me, a dorky self conscious girl.

I remember during lunch, I got up for a drink, and when I came back he was sitting smugly in my chair. I told him to get out of my seat, and he responded, "Why don't you just sit on my lap?" Of course, being about 12 or 13 at the time, I didn't reply, but instead tipped the chair so that he fell out. How romantic of me.

During camp, we got to work with cars. I knew nothing about cars (still don't know anything), and he knew everything. He patiently taught me the names for the different types of wrenches and showed me how to use them.

But perhaps my favorite memory is the day of the ropes course, which happened to fall on my birthday. We were putting on the harnesses, and there were so many buckles and straps that I had no idea what to do with them.

He saw me struggling with it and came over. He took the end of the longest strap which was supposed to go along my waist and walked away until it was streched out.

"Spin towards me," he said, and I did. I had been too naive to realise that if I had spun a little further, I might have ended up in his arms, which had probably been his intention in the first place.

After that, I climbed up into the course, which crisscrossed through the woods, high in the trees. Just when I reached the top of the highest tree, all the campers began to sing 'Happy Birthday' to me. I came down, embarassed, and he was there holding his arms out, offering me a "birthday hug."

And I declined it. To this day, I regret it, and I expect that I will regret it forever. My paranoid nature causes me to be wary of everything and everyone. I'm too afraid to jump because I don't know if there's something to catch me.

I guess the one good thing that came out of this is that I finally realised how inhibited I am. I want to change that. I want to fall in love, whatever that is. I want someone to hold, and someone to hold me.

I want to stop living in this shell. And so, from now on, I'm stepping out. I know I may have my heart broken, but it's already been broken, so I have nothing to lose.

Read more

Two Poems

I wrote these while I was waiting for class to start.

Pointless

You pull me in, you pull me forward
and I am surrounded
by your arms around me.

I pull you down, we fall together
one above and one below,
so we can flow as one.

All points touch, only one point to make
we surge together
and take another breath.

The hardest thing is waking up,
to roll over and see
that it was all a dream.



Mona Lisa

Did you know,
did anyone ever mention to you,
that you have the nicest smile?
You brighten up the room,
brighten up my clouded life--
just for a split second.
And you duck your head and laugh,
but you don't need anyone
to laugh with or at.

I like your smile,
but I'd like your secret too.

Read more

Scary Story Time

Okay, so my friends and I were sharing stories about scary/creepy things that happened to us. Now I'm totally freaked out. >.<

Here's mine:

I remember I was reading a book on my bed, and then my family decided to go out to eat. So I set the book down on my nightstand, which is on the left of my bed.

We came back a couple hours later and went back to reading. Except my book wasn't there. I thought it had fallen off so I looked on the floor and under the bed and everywhere, but I couldn't find it. So I just gave up and got a different book.

A couple weeks later, I was cleaning my room, and I found the book. It was wedged between the wall and my bed on the right side. I have no idea how it got there. There was no one in the house, and I'm pretty sure my cat is not that talented.

And about a month ago, I was sitting in my study which has a bunch of large windows that face the front yard. I heard scratching and thought it was just a branch scraping against the window. But then it got louder and it sounded like something was trying to claw its way through the outside of the house. I tried looking out the window, but it was pitch black, so I couldn't see it at all. And then it just suddenly stopped.

Now I keep my blinds shut at night.

-clings to teddy bear-

Read more

The Truth About Guys

Boys=Jerks

This is probably the most important (and truthful) equation ever. Screw algebra.

Boys + Their Friends=Jerks

Therefore, the first equation is further supported.

All boys are inherently jerks. Maybe you know this really nice, really sweet guy. Well, he's a jerk too. They all are. Just some of them are jerks underneath, and some...not so underneath.

They're even worse when they're with all their friends. They feel the need to be "macho" and do stupid (and sometimes) cruel things to prove that they are manly. And possibly impress you, the bewildered female. He's always been so sweet and caring, but all of a sudden he's ignoring you and pushing you away when you try to join in, almost as if he's embarassed to be seen with you. Studies have shown that this is typical guy behavior.

The best thing to do in this case is to go out and have fun with your girlfriends. Then when you're alone with him again, you can tell him about how hot shirtless [insert actor of your choice] was in that movie you went and saw while he was ignoring you. This is sure to annoy him, and may lead to an argument.

When arguing with a boy, never bring up things that he did/said in the past. Boys have remarkably short memory spans, similar to goldfish. They will not know what you're talking about and claim that it never happened and that you're just making it up. Or that you're dragging in things that have nothing to do with the argument at hand. Instead, you should just distract him by looking cute. Then you'll kiss and make up and you'll have won the fight.

In addition to having short memory spans, boys also get jealous easily and are fairly possessive creatures. You are like a piece of property to him. Obviously, this is unacceptable. YOU must be in control. This takes a massive amount of training, but you will get there eventually.

Read more

Redemption?

It's surprising what you can't tell about a person just by looking at them.

It's even more surprising what you can't tell about a person after meeting them twice and talking to them for an hour each time.

If you read my last entry, you know that I'm currently trying to get over a guy. So basically all cute guys interest me more than they normally would.

Well, I met this guy who I thought was pretty friendly and nice, and we were talking about having lunch together (not as a date, just as friends). And then I talk to him on facebook, and it made me have second thoughts. Honestly, his attitude on facebook was so drastically different from when I talked to him face-to-face that I actually wondered if it was him that I was talking to.

He was just...offensive, to put it mildly. But I believe in second chances, so I'm hoping that he'll redeem himself if we have lunch together.

That is, IF we're even going to have lunch.

Read more

50 Reasons Why

So, if I were to tell you the whole story, we'd be here forever and you'd die of boredom. But basically, I used to have a crush on this one guy for a really really long time. And then I confessed to him and he said that we "weren't meant to be." Ouch. Yeah. So we don't really talk to each other anymore. I've trying to get over him for a long time, and I was getting pretty good at it too.

Then I saw him yesterday.

And it all came flooding back.

I was like, "Damn you." I worked so hard to get him out of my head, to the point where I almost never thought about him anymore, and then one glimpse ruined it all.

So I spent last night agonizing over him, trying to figure out exactly what my feelings were and blah blah blah.

And I made a list of 50 reasons why I should get over him. They're all pretty good reasons too. So hopefully those 50 things will keep me from making the same stupid mistake twice. And if they don't, well, then I really am the biggest fool in the world.

Read more

Crossing the Finish Line

I'm proud of myself. For once.

You know why?

Because I FINALLY finished writing the sequel to my first fan fiction. It's all posted and everything. I'm just happy that I went through with something. It's so rewarding to read everyone's comments.

It was 33 chapters long. I think the first one was 30 or something.

Anyway, I'm just overjoyed right now. If I had it all printed out on paper, I would hug it.

<3

Read more

Abyss

you cut me
with your words,
trying your best
to tear me down,
to crush me,
and you forget that
I am blood and bone.

you cut me
deep into my skin
in an attempt
to break me,
to mold me,
and I resist
till I am stone.

you cut me
and you're surprised
when I don't bleed,
but I am
only what you made me,
and now I go
under and alone.

Read more

Brick Wall

I never imagined that I would think of my Monday morning lecture as an escape. It used to be that I would go to school and wait for the hours to drag by until it's time to go home again. Now it's the opposite.

Friday night I went out with three of my friends for dinner. We laughed, talked, and just had a really great time. Last night, I went out again with two of the three and it was a great night too. Sometimes just sitting around talking about random things beats any other kind of entertainment, especially if you have interesting/weird friends. Which I do. So it was great. We laughed a lot, something I haven't done in a while.

I got home and went to tell my mom that I was back, and she gave me this strange look. And then she asks me if maybe I know why my friends asked me to go along with them. I said, "Well, because we're friends and we usually don't get to hang out together." Obviously I would want to have dinner with them. And to my complete astonishment, my mother suggests that maybe (since one of them is a guy), my girl friend wanted me to go along with her because she thought it would be too much like a date if she went by herself. For whatever reason, my mom thinks that all of us like him. I have no idea how she got that into her head, but I was so insulted that I just walked away without saying anything.

Today, I had to drive back from this event I went to, and I wanted to stop by the grocery store, but I had never driven through that particular route before. The whole time my dad was sitting beside me yelling at me and telling me how incompetent and stupid I was, and that just made it worse. I mean, I know I'm bad with road names and I have no sense of direction. Some people just are. My dad's practically got a gps system in his brain, so he really doesn't understand why I don't know which way is north and why I don't know exactly where we are and where we're going at all times.

Honestly, I was so pissed of that I just wanted to drive the car into a wall.

So we go to the store and blah blah blah and we get home. I'm sitting there in front of my laptop and my dad just barges in and starts telling me that I need to make a goal list for myself. Because in his opinion, if I just plan out everything in my life, things will work out perfectly.

"You need to know where you're going."

I have no fucking clue where I'm going, thank you very much. And thanks to what's happened so far in my life, I don't even know where I WANT to go. Like I said, I have no sense of direction whatsoever.

Right now I am even more pissed because my dad said, "Do you even know why you went out with them (my friends) last night?"

I said, "Because we're good friends and we don't hang out."

Apparently my mom brainwashed him because he said, "Don't you think there's something special going on? Why did you even go?"

Because they're my fucking friends, that's why. God. How controlling do my parents have to be? I mean, they've already pretty much controlled everything else that's gone on in my life, and now they're trying to get between me and my friends too? How unfair is that? It's not even any of their business.

So basically my parents think that I'm coming between my friends' budding relationship, that I'm stupid, incompetent, and completely hopeless.

Right now I really want to get back into the car, pile all of my belongings into it, and then just drive into a wall going at about 100 mph. I don't even care anymore. I hate this so much. I just want everything to go away, but it won't.

So if you don't ever hear from me again, that's what happened.

Read more

A Rainy Beginning

My first day of college was, well, WET. And cold, and slightly windy. It rained all day, and I had to carry this big 'ol umbrella all over the place. I accidently left it in the cafeteria and had to run back to get it. I stepped in a giant puddle that soaked my jeans up to the shins, and I nearly fell going up the slippery steps in my wet flip flops.

And besides being wet, it was stressful, not exactly exciting, and also very lonely.

I came here thinking that I would be able to make a lot of new friends right away, which is usually what I do when I go somewhere full of strangers. Not so. Perhaps it was the rain, but I couldn't seem to bring myself to approach anyone. I thought I'd gotten over being shy. Apparently the problem has only gotten worse.

I suppose this is the drawback of a large university--it's large, HUGE, and this is what makes it so damn complicated. I find myself wondering if I made the right choice.

Read more

Crushed

I can feel you
pounding,
pounding me
down
with that look you're giving me,
with the things you're yelling at me.

I can feel you
hammering,
hammering me
down,
and I think
if you crush me again
I'll become part of the floor.

You still don't think
I've been defeated,
but the truth is
I've been broken for a long time.

And there's no way
to mend me.

Read more

The Psychology of Boredom

I just finished a 434 page book that I started last night (or rather, this morning) around midnight. I have played with my makeup stash, built a sculpture out of bananas, and lurked on Facebook for half an hour.

I am completely and positively bored out of my mind.

I keep thinking that maybe I should call up one of my friends and we can go somewhere and do something fun, but I know that won't happen.

Each summer, pretty much the day school gets out, I fall off the proverbial grid. I don't call people, don't email them, don't text them...I just stop contacting them. Intentionally. It's like this: you see the same people day in and day out, and you listen to them chatter while you're trying to eat your sandwich in peace, while filtering out bits of conversation and trying not to jump in at the wrong place. It's all very tiresome. So in the summer, I detach myself from my circle of friends and quickly find myself out of the loop.

Not that I'm really in the loop during the school year anyway. I'm always the last to hear about things. I have learned through experience that in order to be up to date on all the latest gossip, you have to be nosy. You have to eavesdrop, Facebook stalk, whatever it takes. I don't do those things. I don't really like to gossip; I feel like it's a violation of privacy. Each time I open my mouth to say something about someone, I always think, "What if someone was saying this about me? How would I feel?" And usually this is enough to make me shut my mouth and sit in silence. Unfortunately, many of my friends live for that kind of thing, and all of their conversation revolves around whatever the latest scandal is.

I, not having any interest in all the drama, just sit there. People don't pay much attention to me because I don't seek it. I don't do dramatic things just so that people will think I'm interesting and talk about me all the time.

I don't really mind. Sometimes it's nice to be a wallflower.

Read more

Booth, Bones, and Dex

I've had a lot of time on my hands recently, so I've been watching the shows that I've always wanted to watch but never had a chance to. Namely, Bones and Dexter.

I find myself absolutely fascinated by Dr. Brennan's unwavering logic and captivated by Agent Booth's charming smile. And I admire Dexter's urge for real justice.

Some may think it strange that a girl like me can sit there calmly, snacking on a bowl of potato chips, while dead bodies and blood spatters flash upon the screen. Most would find it disgusting. I did too, at first. Once I got past the disgust, I became intrigued.

I wish I had people like Booth, Bones, and Dex in my life. I would sleep better at night, knowing that these noble souls are prowling, searching for the truth.

Read more

Momma Mia

My parents are getting a divorce. Or at least planning on it, though the planning has only gone so far as to determine that they are getting divorced.

I honestly cannot say how I feel. Relieved would be a good word. Happy? Maybe a little bit.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out that my parents don't get along, and that I don't get along with my mother. I actually don't know why it took them so long. They've been fighting forever, and I'm really really tired of it. Especially when I get involved, either voluntarily or involuntarily.

It's probably better this way, except financially. Financially, it's pure suicide.

I'm not going to cry over this. I didn't when I found out, and I'm not going to. Because the truth is, I really hate my mother. I don't think I can even describe her in words. You may be thinking, "Well, hate may be too strong of a word. She is your mother after all." No, not so. In this case, hate is a perfectly good word to use, perhaps not even strong enough. Besides the fact that she gave birth to me, I don't really think it would be appropriate to call her my mother. Mothers are supposed to love their children and support them and encourage them. All my "mother" ever did was control me and everything I ever did or thought about doing.

When I look at her, I feel disgust and loathing. She's a monster.

Read more

Control Freak

Forward. Almost.

I finally got over the whole not-going-on-vacation issue, and was getting pretty excited about going to university this fall, and now it just seems like everything has been thrown off balance.

Stop.

Everything has come to a complete standstill. Each day is just like the one before it, and all of them blur together into one long, torturous day that never ends.

I can't sleep. Can't think straight. Maybe I can't think because I can't sleep.

About ten days ago, my mum began acting as if my dad didn't exist. Stopped talking to him. Stopped coming to dinner. Just. Stopped. Later, I found out that she had apparently accused him of not "respecting her," which is the pot calling the kettle black. If it's anyone who doesn't get enough respect around here, it's my dad. And sometimes I'm the one who does it, and it makes me feel bad.

I don't think my mother feels guilt. If she does, she certainly doesn't act on it. In fact, it seems like she never feels a bit of remorse for the hurtful things she says to other people. She doesn't apologise, because to her, it's all someone else's fault. She doesn't accept apologies either, like some sort of malfunctioning vending machine that refuses to take your bills or give you change.

We tried to get her to come back to us (even though I don't think she deserves it at all). We brought her plates of food; they came back untouched. Has she been eating? I don't know. I don't care either. We came back from Father's Day dinner (without her because she wouldn't go), and I asked her if she ate, and she said yes. So I said, "What did you eat?" And she looked away from the TV screen, her face an eerie blue from the light, and she said, "Why do you care?"

I don't care because she doesn't want me to. I don't want to. I don't need to.

I think it's better this way--less of her shrill voice nagging at us to do this, do that. Less of her yelling at us to do something and then complaining that we're not doing it right. Everything is different now. My dad and I go grocery shopping together, he makes dinner, I bake cookies. We chauffer my sister to her sports activities and whatnot. And she stays holed up in her room, only coming out when she needs to. When she does, we avert our eyes, mumble something and go in the opposite direction. She's like Medusa--look at her and you'll feel her wrath.

I feel like I've taken her place, and part of me says that it's not right, that I am The Elder Child, not The Mother. But The Mother seems to have given up her place in this household, and she is now merely Another Person Who Lives Here, someone who is occasionally whispered about. The other half of me, the rational half, tells me that I am only doing what anyone would do. After all, the groceries don't buy themselves. I am only doing what I must.

But it is killing me to see how she treats my dad. All he is doing is trying to be nice to her, and she just turns her back and walks away. I want to grab her by the hair and tell her how selfish she's being, how disrespectful. Tell her that if she wants respect, then she has to start giving it. But each time I venture into her bedroom and open my mouth, some stupid thing like, "It's hot outside today," comes out, and then I just lose what little courage I'd mustered up and cower as she gives me a scathing look for interrupting her peace.

But one day I will stand up to her and tell her all the things I've been bursting to say for years. This is a new era--we are escaping from her grip. It used to be that she dictated everything we did. If she didn't want to do it, then we just didn't do it. Well, it's not like that anymore. Even the small things, like going to dinner without her, are teeny steps foward. Away.

We are doing what we should've done a long time ago: getting in control of our lives.

It's our turn to steer.

Read more

Golden Rule=Crap

I don't even know where to begin. It seems like everything's an end these days.

So let me start with this: my sister made it onto her school's cheerleading team. This sentence is very simple, is it not? Seemingly innocent. Oh, but it isn't.

Because along with this came a whirlwind of woes. She goes to practice for hours on end all day. She's taking courses in the summer so she is always doing homework. If there's one thing you need to understand about my sister, it is that she is a complete workaholic. She is capable of sitting for an entire day in front of a book and doing math problems. I swear she doesn't know what the word "fun" means. Most unusual for a teenager. Unheard of.

My family had been planning a trip to my birthplace for years, and of course, I was excited about it. I'm turning eighteen this summer, and we were originally supposed to take a weeklong vacation so that I could see the hospital in which I was born and whatnot. Well, it also happens that cheerleading camp has been arranged in intervals which makes this vacation impossible. Normal parents would say, "Oh, let's just go without her. This is your eighteenth birthday after all, and we have been thinking about going there for years." But no, my parents decided that they wouldn't leave without her, so thus, we are not going. Anywhere.

Do you know what that says to me? That is telling me that I am not important, or at least less important that my sister and her stupid cheerleading. And ever since she was born, that's how I've felt: inferior. It's just like when you give a child a new toy--they immediately begin playing with it and ignoring all the other ones. And as if that wasn't enough, they only pay attention to me when I'm doing something wrong. I feel like I'm tiptoeing through a mine-field.

And you know what else? I don't get any respect. I run around all day, packing my sister's lunch because she's too busy to do it herself and because I think that being nice to her will make her be nice to me. Like the "Golden Rule" says. Well, you know what? The "Golden Rule" is a sodding pile of crap. Whoever made it up must've been living in some sort of imaginary uptopia because my sister merely complains about how I didn't put enough mayonnaise on her sandwich or that she doesn't like yellow mustard. Not a word of thanks. And even if she does say thank you, she doesn't mean it.

It's the same with the word "sorry." She steals my clothes out of my closet all the time, claiming that she has "nothing to wear," which we both know is absolutely untrue. She has tons of clothes, and as she frequently informs me that my clothes are "not stylish," I don't understand why she would steal them from me. And every time I catch her doing this, I yell at her, and she says, "Sorry." Which, of course, has lost it's entire meaning by this point. She might as well say, "Lawn clippings" or "Ostrich." They are all equally meaningless. And what's more, my parents never do anything about this. They just laugh because, oh, it's just the most hilarious thing ever and she's their precious little angel that can do no wrong. Ha. She could probably cleave someone's head off with a hatchet right in front of their eyes and they wouldn't believe she did it.

I don't really know what it is that I'm trying to say. I can't even think straight, I'm so...angry. Frustrated. Humiliated. Cheated. And I feel like I'm always being punished for everything. Everyone's too busy caring about my sister. My parents are too busy hating each other.

Sometimes I wish I'd never been born at all.

Read more

Deadly Sin: Despair

Graduation is a mere two days away.

I'm anxious. This is sort of a bittersweet ending for me. There are a lot of people at my school that I can't stand, and this will be good riddance. But then there are the ones that I miss a lot, even though I've barely been out of school for a week. And I can't help but wonder if I'll ever see them again after I go off to college. And even if I do, they'll be different. We might not click, and the only thing we'll have in common is the past.

I don't like getting hung up on the past, but I can't help it. It's no joke when they say that hindsight is 20/20. It really is, but for me it's mostly the bad things that stick out in my memories. I wish it wasn't that way, that I would remember just the good things, but I suppose that's how I learn from mistakes.

I guess the thing I'll miss most is the certainty. The familiar rhythm of waking up, going to class, coming home, etc, etc. But now it'll be different. New people, new place, new...everything. It's like being the new kid all over again, except this time everyone's new. So I know I'm not alone, but why do I feel like I am? I feel like I've been coddled and have had someone holding my hand my whole life, and now all of a sudden they're letting go and shoving me into this strange world that I don't know anything about.

Let's face it--I'm scared. I know what I want (vaguely), but I don't know how to get there, or if I ever will. I know that I have to take the next step, but I don't know which direction to go in. All of a sudden, there are just too many choices. And there's no way to know which one's going to take me the way I want to go, and there's also no going back.

Sometimes I wake up thinking that this was all just a dream. But it isn't. It's my worst nightmare.

Read more

Here Comes...the Graduate?

So I spent forever last night trying to figure out what I'm going to be wearing for my piano recital/graduation. We're required to wear a white dress and light colored shoes for graduation, but I don't happen to own any. My mum's too cheap to buy me some, so I have to wear something of hers.

First of all, my mum has a warped fashion sense (don't they all?). Second, most of her clothes are as old as I am, or older. Those two things combined make the most horrible wardrobe crisis you could ever imagine. Except I don't have to imagine it...I have to WEAR it.

She found this very matronly-looking white dress with little clear seed beed flowers sewn on it that could have been a wedding dress for like...I don't know, a flapper from the 1920s or maybe a Jackie Kennedy dress. It's cut just above my knees, and it has a scalloped V-neck collar. (The dress in the picture above sort of looks like it, shape and style-wise.) And the shoes...well, my mum only buys SENSIBLE shoes, so I guess this pair isn't so bad...for her. They've got a thick, maybe 1 inch heel and they're white slip-on sandals with a sort of lattice pattern. I don't really know how to describe them.

But anyway, I made myself look somewhat less matronly by adding a belt and a matching bracelet (this is what I will be wearing to recital). Oh, and did I mention that since the dress is sleevess, it makes my arms look fat? It does. Very much so.

The thing is, I can't wear the belt or the bracelet to graduation because it'll show through my hideous white gown. I'm not even sure which is more hideous--the gown or the dress. Let's just say I plan on bringing a change of clothes.

Read more

Deadly Sin: Wrath

--Readers, this message is not directed toward you. I was just angry and needed to rant.--

You've spent my entire life putting me down and telling me that I can't do this or can't do that. You are the reason that I have no self-esteem whatesoever. Why are you encouraging me now? Did you think that you could make up for what you did?

I just want to hear you say that you're proud of me for something for once. You say it all the time for HER, but then again, she's the perfect child. I'm just the trailblazer--I do everything first so that she can come along and do it perfectly a few years later and then everyone forgets that I did it first.

This is stupid and really trivial, but it's really unfair how she never has to eat tomatoes because she doesn't like them and she's allowed to make a huge fuss about how "uncomfortable" her clothes are and refuse to wear them. I just do what I'm told and yet I still get in trouble for it. Is it just because she's younger? What the hell do you want from me?

And another thing, why don't my report cards get put on the refrigerator? I mean, it's not like I care that much about it, but if you're going to put them up, either do both or none at all. You're sending me such mixed messages. I don't know what to think.

It's so obvious that you favour her. I don't know who you're trying to fool when you say you don't. You're not even fooling yourself. We all know it.

I'll bet you're so glad that I'm leaving for college. I bet you don't want me to come back. Then you can pretend that I never existed, and you can have your perfect little child all to yourself where she'll never be corrupted by my unseemly and imperfect ways.

I'm not asking for you to treat me like you treat her; I don't want that. I just want you to be able to see that I'm special in my own ways, and I want you to be proud of that and show it. I want some credit for what I've done, and not just for the times I screwed up, but for the times I did a good job too.

And even if you can't do that, I want you to try and understand me. I want you to listen to me. Did you ever notice that I never come to you and talk about whatever it is mothers and daughters are supposed to talk about? How can I? All you ever do is interrupt me and start lecturing me and telling me some stupid story about when you were young. GET OVER YOURSELF. I'm not you. I'm my own person, and maybe if you actually shut up for once, you'd know what kind of person I am and what kind of person I want to be. If you're not going to listen to what I say, then don't even bother asking for my opinion or whatever. It's a waste of my breath.

If you ever read this, you'd probably just deny it and then accuse me of blowing things out of proportion and BLAH BLAH BLAH. It doesn't matter what you say. You can't hide the truth.

Read more

She's Got Talent

I'm sure you all know about Susan Boyle right now (the lady who tried out for Britain's Got Talent). She's amazing, she really is.

But it's just stupid how hyped up people are about it now.

A woman who isn't exactly supermodel material can sing like a Broadway star. So what? Are they trying to say that ugly people don't have talents? I thought it was so insulting the way the judges and the audience were like "OMG" when she started singing. And how people are asking if she'll get a makeover or whatever.

Which only shows how shallow our society is. Ever since middle school, we pretty much learn that beauty=popularity.

But you know what? No one is beautiful forever. They're going to get old and wrinkly just like everyone else. All those models that make millions by wearing bizzare clothing (honestly, who wears that out in public?) and having their pictures taken so they can be on the cover of a magazine? They'll get old too. And then they'll be exactly like the rest of us, except it's probably worse because they'll have been stunning at some point in their life.

But who cares? It doesn't make them better people.

Susan Boyle deserves some respect. Let's give it to her now.

Read more

Deadly Sins: Pride, Envy, and Gluttony

So, I went to piano lessons today, and once again, my teacher told me that I needed to cut my nails.

I cut them before I went to lessons. They're shorter than they've probably ever been.

And they're ugly now.

I'm proud of my nails. As silly as that sounds, I am. I really like them. I paint them all the time and sometimes people compliment me. It makes me feel pretty, which I usually don't.

I normally feel all schleppy and yucky compared to the other girls at school. They're skinny, they have cute clothes, cute shoes, cute...everything. I don't know how they do it. I mean, I shop at the mall too. Why don't I look great?

I'd just like to feel pretty for once, you know what I mean?

Or at least, I'd like to be happy with myself, which I'm not. I find fault with myself all the time, and I constantly wish that I were someone else.

Like, I just noticed that I gained a few pounds over the last couple of weeks, and it's starting to show. As virtually all of my shirts are tight t-shirts, this has become a real problem when I'm trying to figure out what to wear (I'll tell you about my closet next time I post). I only have so many sweatshirts and jackets to cover myself up with, and it seems like I just can't find clothes that draw attention away from my stomach. I look like I'm pregnant. Seriously. It's sickening. I'm a total glutton. (And by the way, why isn't vanity a "deadly sin"? Or does it count as pride?)

Anyway, after I totally pigged out yesterday, I thought, "This has GOT to stop. I'm walking down the path to obesity. I don't want to do that." So I read some magazines, and I decided that I'm going to eat healthier and eat smaller portions.

This morning, I had a vanilla yogurt with yummy granola. For lunch, I had a pita wrap and apple juice. For snack, Sunchips and applesauce. And then came dinnertime.

I lost it. I've been used to eating a lot, so I guess it was a real shock for my stomach to suddenly find itself not completely full all the time. I was starving. I made myself a HUGE salad and ate a whole bunch of other stuff. And I STILL feel like I want to eat something. It's like that Pringles commercial: "Once you pop, you can't stop."

Oh, God. Pringles. Agh. See what I mean? This is bad, really bad. But tomorrow, I'm going to stick to it. And the next day. And the next. And I'm going to stick to it forever, because I want to be healthy.

And let's face it. Summer's almost here--people are breaking out the flip flops and the shorts are following. I want to be able to go out in a t-shirt and not worry about my stomach sticking out. I want to be able to wear my bikini when I go on vacation.

And I kind of want some ice cream, but I'm going to resist the temptation and just pretend that I'm eating it...

Read more

The Pasta Conundrum

I don't think I've ever been able to finish a pasta entree at a restaurant. Ever. I don't think I ever will.

It's just...too much food.

I mean, I like fettucine alfredo and all, but when there's that much of it? I just can't handle it.

At every Italian restaurant I've ever been to, they start you off with some sort of bread basket. At Olive Garden, it's the breadsticks. At other places, it's that yummy, freshly baked bread that comes with the rosemary dipping oil. It's delicious--and free--so of course you have to say yes when the waiter asks if you'd like more bread. Even if you swore that you were giving up carbs so that you can look good in your bikini. Screw that.

And then there's the salad. Mmm, everyone loves a good salad. Especially when there's that shaker full of Parmesan cheese sitting there...

Not to mention that at some restaurants (like Olive Garden) the salad and breadsticks are endless. No joke.

If you're eating with someone else-- say, your entire family--the salad might not even be yours. You might have ordered soup as a side, but you're eating the salad just because it's there and y'all planned it this way so that you could have both the soup and the salad.

So by the time your actual pasta entree arrives, you're pretty much stuffed.

I just don't understand why my penne in marinara sauce has to come in a large basin in quantities large enough to feed an entire African village for a week. Like, sure it costs $18.95 or whatever, but couldn't they give you less and charge you less? Because after I finish, oh, maybe one-tenth of it, I have to decide whether to let the waiter throw it out or take it home and then throw it out myself. Because let's face it, leftover pasta is just not that appetizing.

The last time I went to an Italian restaurant, I ordered their special meatball sub. And guess what? I didn't finish it.

What else is new?

Read more

You Can't Trust People

Oh. My. God.

Why am I so gullible? Like, why do I just believe that people are really who they say they are? I know I'm not supposed to believe it. I'm supposed to assume that they're all pedophiles or whatever, right?

Right. Which I do. Until we start talking about the smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, and then I'm like, "Hey, this person thinks that the smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies is like, orgasmic. They can't be evil, right?"

Uh, wrong. Everyone likes cookies. If you're reading this and you're thinking, "Um, actually, I HATE cookies," then I suggest that you run because there are a lot more of us than there are of you. Just saying. Anyway, evil people can like cookies too. Anyone can like cookies. So obviously I can't judge people by that.

But I didn't KNOW that before this happened.

I just don't have common sense. Or maybe I'm not paranoid enough? Well, I certainly am now. I think I finally understand why my mother told me not to talk to strangers online. Obviously, I didn't listen to her (who does?).

Anyway, the point is, you just can't trust people. Like, if you meet someone who seems REALLY NICE and REALLY FUNNY and EVERYTHING YOU EVER WANTED IN A PERSON, they're probably not who they say they are. On the other hand, if you meet someone who is just a total jerk, they're probably really a total jerk. Because why the hell would you pretend to be a jerk if you aren't one? Why would anyone do that? I have no clue.

I really have no faith in strangers.

Read more