Homecoming is coming up. Holy Rocket Jesus. I know I'm going to be going with a group of friends, and I know if I have a date, it'll be a "date" who is actually one of my friends, and will most likely be female. However, I can't help wondering if anyone is thinking of asking me. I don't know what I'd say if they did. In this situation, I think it'd be the thought that counts, you know?
It's not like I'm into anyone right now. I thought I was for a little, but nah. My life is devoid of romantic interest, and I don't like it. I sound like a super-whore, but I don't care, my life is infinitly more exciting when I have a cute boy to focus on. If a substantially attractive dude asked me to homecoming, I'd probably say no, but definitely kiss them at the dance anyway. Idk, it'd be nice to have someone new and interesting in my life.
Dear Mr. Right,
Now would be an awesome time to wait at my locker for me with a rose and a sign that says "Homecoming?". I'm just sayin'. I know you're out there somewhere.
-Jules
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
A Day With Only One Contact Lense.
This morning when I went to put in my contacts, the one in my right eye felt like it was stabbing my cornia. So I took it out, washed it, made sure I wasn't putting it in backwards, then put the lense in my eye expecting it not feel all stabbity-like. It did anyway. Well, insane people do the same thing over and over expecting different results, but I wasn't feeling particularly insane today, so I just took out the contact, threw the damn thing away, and went to school with one conact lense in.
The contact lense thing was the first of many inexplicable events to happen to me today. Here are the rest:
At school, I realized I had some extra clothes in my bag, so mid-conversation with Cassi and Qboy, who is gay but just doesn't know it yet, I grabbed the clothes out of my bag in one handful and was going to shove them into the bottom of my locker so I wouldn't have to cary them around all day. Unfortunately, I have tiny-baby hands which are not good for holding large clumps of clothing, so when I lifted the clothes out of my bag, a gloriously bright pink bra fell out of the pile and onto the floor. In the crowded hallway. Very obviously. Right in front of Cassi and Qboy. I grabbed the fucking thing and hid it from view within milliseconds, but the damage was done. Qboy is officially scarred for life.
In theater, I volunteered to perform a solo even though I wasn't scheduled to until Thursday. I was shaking like a leaf, but I sang the opening number to The Last Five Years as well as I could. Everyone said I had captivating emotions. I smiled and quietly thought to myself "bullshit".
At lunch, I went to go talk to my algebra teacher, in the hopes of somehow finding a way to lift my grade from its sorry state. He said he was shocked at my failure and asked me why I had bombed like I did. I told him the almost truth. The truth was that I was distracted and not focusing at all. The almost truth was that I was distracted and not focusing because of my friend that died about a week before the test. The one my father told me had died after Rosh Hashannah services. My teacher asked me who what when where how?? And I shook my head. I suddenly had a lump in my throat. I didn't wanna talk about my friend, and I certainly didn't want to get emotional in front of my algebra teacher. Which is exactly what I proceeded to do. I started crying, instantly felt stupid, apologized, and tried (and failed) to regain my composure. My teacher gave me a hug, and proposed that I take an alternate test to prove that I really do understand the mathematical concepts. He's a cool dude.
During debate class, I kept replaying what happened in my head. I spent the remaining school day on the verge of tears for absolutely no good reason.
At cheer practice, I started basing stunts, and considering this was only the second time I'd ever based, I thought I did pretty well. My arms are torn up though. My wrists are covered in "shoe hickies" aka bruises from girls landing wrong. Then I cheered a volleyball game because my coach doesn't know I'm failing math yet. She'll find out tomorrow though, and I won't be able to cheer on Friday's football game.
When I got home, I realized how completely ridiculous today was. I was sad, kept finding myself in odd/emotionally compromising situations, and had absolutely no depth-perception due to the fact that I could only see out of one eye.
Moral of the story? Life is inexplicable, and weird things happen when you can only see out of one eye.
The contact lense thing was the first of many inexplicable events to happen to me today. Here are the rest:
At school, I realized I had some extra clothes in my bag, so mid-conversation with Cassi and Qboy, who is gay but just doesn't know it yet, I grabbed the clothes out of my bag in one handful and was going to shove them into the bottom of my locker so I wouldn't have to cary them around all day. Unfortunately, I have tiny-baby hands which are not good for holding large clumps of clothing, so when I lifted the clothes out of my bag, a gloriously bright pink bra fell out of the pile and onto the floor. In the crowded hallway. Very obviously. Right in front of Cassi and Qboy. I grabbed the fucking thing and hid it from view within milliseconds, but the damage was done. Qboy is officially scarred for life.
In theater, I volunteered to perform a solo even though I wasn't scheduled to until Thursday. I was shaking like a leaf, but I sang the opening number to The Last Five Years as well as I could. Everyone said I had captivating emotions. I smiled and quietly thought to myself "bullshit".
At lunch, I went to go talk to my algebra teacher, in the hopes of somehow finding a way to lift my grade from its sorry state. He said he was shocked at my failure and asked me why I had bombed like I did. I told him the almost truth. The truth was that I was distracted and not focusing at all. The almost truth was that I was distracted and not focusing because of my friend that died about a week before the test. The one my father told me had died after Rosh Hashannah services. My teacher asked me who what when where how?? And I shook my head. I suddenly had a lump in my throat. I didn't wanna talk about my friend, and I certainly didn't want to get emotional in front of my algebra teacher. Which is exactly what I proceeded to do. I started crying, instantly felt stupid, apologized, and tried (and failed) to regain my composure. My teacher gave me a hug, and proposed that I take an alternate test to prove that I really do understand the mathematical concepts. He's a cool dude.
During debate class, I kept replaying what happened in my head. I spent the remaining school day on the verge of tears for absolutely no good reason.
At cheer practice, I started basing stunts, and considering this was only the second time I'd ever based, I thought I did pretty well. My arms are torn up though. My wrists are covered in "shoe hickies" aka bruises from girls landing wrong. Then I cheered a volleyball game because my coach doesn't know I'm failing math yet. She'll find out tomorrow though, and I won't be able to cheer on Friday's football game.
When I got home, I realized how completely ridiculous today was. I was sad, kept finding myself in odd/emotionally compromising situations, and had absolutely no depth-perception due to the fact that I could only see out of one eye.
Moral of the story? Life is inexplicable, and weird things happen when you can only see out of one eye.
Monday, September 27, 2010
If Ever, Oh Ever...
My life took a turn for the stressful today. I got the lowest score in the class on an algebra test, bringing my grade to a F, and disqualifying me from cheerleading any games until I get my grades up. Yay. And then I got promoted at work, which is awesome but means a whole helluva lot more responsibility. That and leaving cheer practice early every Monday so that I can get to work on time :/ my coach is gonna love this. Honestly, I want to quit, it's really becoming less and less worth it with every practice I go to. But I signed up for this, and I'm not going to screw over my team by just walking out. If I get cut, I'll act upset for a day so that I can hide my relief. But I hate this sport right now.
I honestly just want to press the pause button on my life. I need a break.
I honestly just want to press the pause button on my life. I need a break.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
I Hate Old People.
I just did evaluations for cheer. It's essentially a fitness test to see who's the most qualified to stay on the team. I ran 2 miles, I'm very proud of myself. Aside from that, I guess I did ok, I'm not very confident in my athletic/cheerleading ability, but I don't think I did as well as I could have. I'm sort of at the point where I don't care about anything anymore. Whatever happens, happens.
Anyway, after spending 4. and a half. hours. doing this fitness thing, I come home to find a group of obnoxious old people in my kitchen. I'm very tired, and very hungry, but I can't get any food because the old people are in the way. I really need calories in my system right now, because I just burned about a bazillion, but there are old people eating noisily in my kitchen whom I don't want to have to talk to or even look at.
I. Hate. Old People. Once you hit age 50, I gradually start losing respect for you, and by the time you're 60, I can barely stand to be in the same room as you. Age 70+ and I don't even want you in my house. Old people are old, wrinkly, fat, and eat weird food in a very disgusting manor. I cannot stand talking to old people, let alone looking at them. It's not a fear, it's extreme dislike, I find the elderly incredibly stinky and annoying and I'm too tired to deal with that.
I will never get old, I am determined to diein some tragic and theatrical manner at age 49. I will never get fat either. I will never get wrinkly or disgusting nor will I ever talk to anyone who is considerably younger than I am. It's not like I'm being racist, I just can't stand the idea of turning into a useless, gross-looking human being who talks too much and has no potential left in life. I hate old people, and my kitchen is full of them, and I don't want to deal with them.
So I'm hiding in my room, blogging about my disgust in old people and listening to my stomach scream at me.
I HATE OLD PEOPLE.
Anyway, after spending 4. and a half. hours. doing this fitness thing, I come home to find a group of obnoxious old people in my kitchen. I'm very tired, and very hungry, but I can't get any food because the old people are in the way. I really need calories in my system right now, because I just burned about a bazillion, but there are old people eating noisily in my kitchen whom I don't want to have to talk to or even look at.
I. Hate. Old People. Once you hit age 50, I gradually start losing respect for you, and by the time you're 60, I can barely stand to be in the same room as you. Age 70+ and I don't even want you in my house. Old people are old, wrinkly, fat, and eat weird food in a very disgusting manor. I cannot stand talking to old people, let alone looking at them. It's not a fear, it's extreme dislike, I find the elderly incredibly stinky and annoying and I'm too tired to deal with that.
I will never get old, I am determined to diein some tragic and theatrical manner at age 49. I will never get fat either. I will never get wrinkly or disgusting nor will I ever talk to anyone who is considerably younger than I am. It's not like I'm being racist, I just can't stand the idea of turning into a useless, gross-looking human being who talks too much and has no potential left in life. I hate old people, and my kitchen is full of them, and I don't want to deal with them.
So I'm hiding in my room, blogging about my disgust in old people and listening to my stomach scream at me.
I HATE OLD PEOPLE.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Word To The Wise...
THINK BEFORE YOU SPEAK.
Be really careful about what you say to people. And if you're going to tell an elaborate lie, be sure to keep track of what you say so that you don't contradict yourself and give yourself away. Don't let your anger run away with you. Vent as much as possible, but only to people you can trust with your life.
Mallory,
Same goes for bloggature. Be really, extra-specially careful when venting on the internet. Things you say have a way of getting to the people they're about. Believe me, I know. A few years ago, I had a blog like this one, except it was much more intimate and included the names of people I knew as well as extremely blunt posts. It was my diary, except online. I talked very candidly about how fake I thought several people at my school were, and I chronicled my adventures in emo-land. The thing is, I used actual names and talked about people as if they couldn't know what I was saying. Boy did that come back to bite me.
I got a call from 2 girls I had called out on my blog and was basically chewed out over the phone for being a bitch on the internet. I was also informed by several people I didn't even know that they were reading my blog too. It turned out that the majority of the grade above me was reading my stuff, along with a teacher or two.
The people I was talking shit about were reading my diary.
I took care of everything, but it still screws with my brain to know that people I had never met knew my darkest internal struggles and witnessed my constant lashing out at anyone who set me off in the slightest. So be careful.
With this blog, I'm not using real names, and I'm keeping it a secret that I even write it. Because I know if anyone from school read this they'd never see me the same way again, and I don't even know what my cheer coach would do if she knew how much I'm struggling right now.
So censor yourself, only a little. You're no where near as bad about that as I used to be, but I just don't want to see anyone get put on display like I was, because that was horrific. Just be careful.
Be really careful about what you say to people. And if you're going to tell an elaborate lie, be sure to keep track of what you say so that you don't contradict yourself and give yourself away. Don't let your anger run away with you. Vent as much as possible, but only to people you can trust with your life.
Mallory,
Same goes for bloggature. Be really, extra-specially careful when venting on the internet. Things you say have a way of getting to the people they're about. Believe me, I know. A few years ago, I had a blog like this one, except it was much more intimate and included the names of people I knew as well as extremely blunt posts. It was my diary, except online. I talked very candidly about how fake I thought several people at my school were, and I chronicled my adventures in emo-land. The thing is, I used actual names and talked about people as if they couldn't know what I was saying. Boy did that come back to bite me.
I got a call from 2 girls I had called out on my blog and was basically chewed out over the phone for being a bitch on the internet. I was also informed by several people I didn't even know that they were reading my blog too. It turned out that the majority of the grade above me was reading my stuff, along with a teacher or two.
The people I was talking shit about were reading my diary.
I took care of everything, but it still screws with my brain to know that people I had never met knew my darkest internal struggles and witnessed my constant lashing out at anyone who set me off in the slightest. So be careful.
With this blog, I'm not using real names, and I'm keeping it a secret that I even write it. Because I know if anyone from school read this they'd never see me the same way again, and I don't even know what my cheer coach would do if she knew how much I'm struggling right now.
So censor yourself, only a little. You're no where near as bad about that as I used to be, but I just don't want to see anyone get put on display like I was, because that was horrific. Just be careful.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Commiting Something...
I'm in one of those moods where you just want to hide under the covers until the world disappears. Honestly, just hiding like a kid, just you and the blankets, hiding as if it could make the troubles and scariness of life evaporate.
I'm steadily realizing that I'm absolutely terrified of commitments. Terrified to the point of procrastinating like a madwoman, and avoiding them if at all possible. And I'm not just talking commitments to lover-boys, I'm saying to anything. School, work, cheer. I don't want to be trapped by them, so I get by, barely, by only putting in the absolute minimum amount of effort until it doesn't feel like a commitment anymore.
The only thing I can commit to without even thinking about are friendships. I'll be a commited friend all day, every day, from here till whenever. But school? Goals? A sport that i know I should love but I just can't seem to find the space in my heart for? Fuck no. I know I should want to give each one my all, but if I give all of me to one aspect of my life, what will I have to give to the others?
I feel like I'm getting pulled at from each direction. At this rate, by the time I hit winter break, I'll be puking up my own stomach lining from the stress. Not even kidding.
I really, really need to stop trying to please everyone.
I'm steadily realizing that I'm absolutely terrified of commitments. Terrified to the point of procrastinating like a madwoman, and avoiding them if at all possible. And I'm not just talking commitments to lover-boys, I'm saying to anything. School, work, cheer. I don't want to be trapped by them, so I get by, barely, by only putting in the absolute minimum amount of effort until it doesn't feel like a commitment anymore.
The only thing I can commit to without even thinking about are friendships. I'll be a commited friend all day, every day, from here till whenever. But school? Goals? A sport that i know I should love but I just can't seem to find the space in my heart for? Fuck no. I know I should want to give each one my all, but if I give all of me to one aspect of my life, what will I have to give to the others?
I feel like I'm getting pulled at from each direction. At this rate, by the time I hit winter break, I'll be puking up my own stomach lining from the stress. Not even kidding.
I really, really need to stop trying to please everyone.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Kissing Boys.
Not to sound like a whore, but I like kissing boys. Actually, I just like kissing. As to with whom, gender isn't really an issue. Ok I do sound like a whore. Pshh fine I guess I'm just going to sound like a whore today. See, I like kissing itself, the action and reactions, not the metaphorical-philosophical-emotional connectivity of it. Honestly, a kiss is a physical action. When I kiss someone, all I'm looking for is physical action.
At that precise moment when our lips first touch, I'm not thinking "Wow, I'm so emotionally into this, I really hope our conversations after this are deep and insightful." Nah, it's more along the lines of "Yesss! Now please be good boy and keep your tongue to yourself for the first little bit of this." Sounds shallow, but I'm being honest. As things progress, I'm not thinking of any form of emotional connection at all. I really don't see how anyone could think lucidly about that sort of thing if they're that preoccupied anyway.
A kiss isn't a symbol of an instantaneous undying love, because a love that strong needs no symbol and couldn't happen that fast. A kiss is a symbol of "I like you this much".
I've sort of gotten to the point where I can only like someone "that much". I don't know what's holding me back, if anything, from letting myself like anyone any more than that, but it's just not happening.
And hey, it's not like I'm starved for "gettin' some", because I most definitely am gettin' some, all I really want here is some consistency.
Consistency ≠ friend with benefits, make-out buddy, or debate bus shenanigans.
Consistency ≠ Mwb, Agb, or any of these little almost-relationships I keep finding my way into.
Consistency = person who is the Tom to my Summer, the Mac to my Cheese, my best friend and worst enemy reincarnated in sex-god form. I know you're out there darling, and I know you're not in Hicktown.
At that precise moment when our lips first touch, I'm not thinking "Wow, I'm so emotionally into this, I really hope our conversations after this are deep and insightful." Nah, it's more along the lines of "Yesss! Now please be good boy and keep your tongue to yourself for the first little bit of this." Sounds shallow, but I'm being honest. As things progress, I'm not thinking of any form of emotional connection at all. I really don't see how anyone could think lucidly about that sort of thing if they're that preoccupied anyway.
A kiss isn't a symbol of an instantaneous undying love, because a love that strong needs no symbol and couldn't happen that fast. A kiss is a symbol of "I like you this much".
I've sort of gotten to the point where I can only like someone "that much". I don't know what's holding me back, if anything, from letting myself like anyone any more than that, but it's just not happening.
And hey, it's not like I'm starved for "gettin' some", because I most definitely am gettin' some, all I really want here is some consistency.
Consistency ≠ friend with benefits, make-out buddy, or debate bus shenanigans.
Consistency ≠ Mwb, Agb, or any of these little almost-relationships I keep finding my way into.
Consistency = person who is the Tom to my Summer, the Mac to my Cheese, my best friend and worst enemy reincarnated in sex-god form. I know you're out there darling, and I know you're not in Hicktown.
Friday, September 17, 2010
101th post!!
I didn't even notice that Cheesecakes was my 100th-post-aversary. So, in celebration of post numero 101, I give you a hundred and one things that make me smile, and will make you smile too.
1. Blogging
2. Cupcakes, especially when your friend gives you one right before math class
3. Funny, snarky teachers
4. Saturdays
5. Bows
6. Bowties/Fezes. Only when worn by Matt Smith tho
7. Doctor Who Marathons
8. X Factor auditions
9. Nail polish
10. Sharpies, and writing all over everything with them
11. Rockets
12. Rainbows
13. Double Rainbows... all the way!
14. YouTube
15. The Strokes
16. Domo!
17. Expensive cheese
18. Really expensive chocolates
19. Finding notes written to you from 8th grade
20. Hair bleach
21. The smell of cookies
22. Make Up
23. Opera
24. Singing opera in my kitchen while baking. It's a sight to see XP
25. Contact lenses
26. New shoes
27. Chinese Vogue
28. Having coconut bunny hair (soft and smells good)
29. Noticing boys staring at you
30. Feeling like you won an argument
31. Winning awards in speech and debate
32. Ears
33. Boys with pretty eyes
34. Freaking out the pro-audio techs at Guitar Center with an inexplicable knowledge of MIDI cables
35. Pearl Street in the summer
36. Falafel
37. the way Lush stores always smell
38. Urban Outfitters
39. American Apparell
40. Clement Street in San Fransisco
41. Dim Sum
42. Really good books
43. Dyeing other people's hair
44. Learning new words, like 'extraneous' and 'vex'
45. Watching Indie movies
46. Watching foreign movies
47. Watching shitty horror movies with jumpy friends and a bowl of cookie dough
48. Vodka and Sprite
49. Kahlua and Pepsi
50. Watching meteor showers
51. Pillows
52. Finding money
53. Laughing really, really hard
54. Running around dark hallways at school because the power went out
55. Fish
56. Japanese people
57. Fond Memories
58. Rings
59. My teeny-weeny-itsy-bitsy baby hands
60. Dinosaurs, and anything related
61. Inserting the words "holy" "balls" "jesus" and "mother" into exclaimations
62. V-neck t-shirts
63. Cute boys who can pull off a V-neck t-shirt
64. Having a V-neck t-shirt pulled off of you ;)
65. Crazy straws
66. Plaid
67. Little glass sculptures
68. Tinkerbell
69. Sexual Inneundo
70. Ice Cream
71. Gay men
72. Long phone conversations
73. When a friend paints your nails
74. Watching a sunrise frome the bus on the way to a tournament
75. Juicy secrets
76. Waking up and feeling pretty instantly (it's rare, but it's possible)
77. Dancing
78. Singing like a black woman
79. Praying in Hebrew
80. Knowing that some people never change
81. Chapstick
82. Drawing portraits with a vine of charcoal
83. Reminiscing with an ex about the good old days
84. Finding blackmail material in an old elementary school yearbook
85. Being pleasantly surprised by your school picture this year
86. Compliments
87. British accents
88. Musically talented people
89. Hotdogs and mac-n-cheese and sushi at the same dinner
90. My lighter
91. Crayons
92. Cigarettes
93. MTV
94. When there are no commercials on the radio
95. Mountains
96. Colorado Sunsets
97. Bagels
98. Lefty's Pizza on Fridays at B lunch
99. My amazing schoolbag
100. Kissing someone for the first time and realizing how good they are at it
101. Hugs from buds
<3
1. Blogging
2. Cupcakes, especially when your friend gives you one right before math class
3. Funny, snarky teachers
4. Saturdays
5. Bows
6. Bowties/Fezes. Only when worn by Matt Smith tho
7. Doctor Who Marathons
8. X Factor auditions
9. Nail polish
10. Sharpies, and writing all over everything with them
11. Rockets
12. Rainbows
13. Double Rainbows... all the way!
14. YouTube
15. The Strokes
16. Domo!
17. Expensive cheese
18. Really expensive chocolates
19. Finding notes written to you from 8th grade
20. Hair bleach
21. The smell of cookies
22. Make Up
23. Opera
24. Singing opera in my kitchen while baking. It's a sight to see XP
25. Contact lenses
26. New shoes
27. Chinese Vogue
28. Having coconut bunny hair (soft and smells good)
29. Noticing boys staring at you
30. Feeling like you won an argument
31. Winning awards in speech and debate
32. Ears
33. Boys with pretty eyes
34. Freaking out the pro-audio techs at Guitar Center with an inexplicable knowledge of MIDI cables
35. Pearl Street in the summer
36. Falafel
37. the way Lush stores always smell
38. Urban Outfitters
39. American Apparell
40. Clement Street in San Fransisco
41. Dim Sum
42. Really good books
43. Dyeing other people's hair
44. Learning new words, like 'extraneous' and 'vex'
45. Watching Indie movies
46. Watching foreign movies
47. Watching shitty horror movies with jumpy friends and a bowl of cookie dough
48. Vodka and Sprite
49. Kahlua and Pepsi
50. Watching meteor showers
51. Pillows
52. Finding money
53. Laughing really, really hard
54. Running around dark hallways at school because the power went out
55. Fish
56. Japanese people
57. Fond Memories
58. Rings
59. My teeny-weeny-itsy-bitsy baby hands
60. Dinosaurs, and anything related
61. Inserting the words "holy" "balls" "jesus" and "mother" into exclaimations
62. V-neck t-shirts
63. Cute boys who can pull off a V-neck t-shirt
64. Having a V-neck t-shirt pulled off of you ;)
65. Crazy straws
66. Plaid
67. Little glass sculptures
68. Tinkerbell
69. Sexual Inneundo
70. Ice Cream
71. Gay men
72. Long phone conversations
73. When a friend paints your nails
74. Watching a sunrise frome the bus on the way to a tournament
75. Juicy secrets
76. Waking up and feeling pretty instantly (it's rare, but it's possible)
77. Dancing
78. Singing like a black woman
79. Praying in Hebrew
80. Knowing that some people never change
81. Chapstick
82. Drawing portraits with a vine of charcoal
83. Reminiscing with an ex about the good old days
84. Finding blackmail material in an old elementary school yearbook
85. Being pleasantly surprised by your school picture this year
86. Compliments
87. British accents
88. Musically talented people
89. Hotdogs and mac-n-cheese and sushi at the same dinner
90. My lighter
91. Crayons
92. Cigarettes
93. MTV
94. When there are no commercials on the radio
95. Mountains
96. Colorado Sunsets
97. Bagels
98. Lefty's Pizza on Fridays at B lunch
99. My amazing schoolbag
100. Kissing someone for the first time and realizing how good they are at it
101. Hugs from buds
<3
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Cheesecakes
My little sister is telling me a story right now about her friend who ate cheesecake and then witnessed a four-year-old on a joyride. It's a rather entertaining story. She always talks, and I usually don't listen, but this one was worth listening to just for the sheer fantasticalness of her pre-adolescent innocent, naive, anything-can-happen way of telling a story. I miss those days...
I miss crayons :(
I miss crayons :(
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Stressy Ranty Thing
I'm sort of only writing this so I can sort out my brain.
I'm not ready for tomorrow. I haven't done any of my homework yet. I'm not emotionally prepared for the idea that this week is going to be starting in a matter of hours. This week is going to be busy and stressful, just like last week, and just like next week will be. Normally I'd be like "bring it on, homeboy", except I'm mentally and physically exhausted. I was soooo greatful it was the weekend because that meant a break, but I really haven't had a break all weekend. I've been busy and all over the place and I haven't had any time to just chill. I need time to sleep in and watch tv for hours on end, because that's besically the only way I can get my brain to relax. MY BRAIN IS VERY UNRELAXED. I feel like I want to puke.
I'm realizing that cheer is basically half of it all. Without cheer, I'd be much, muchhh less stressed out. It's getting to the point where I don't even know if it's worth staying on the team anymore. I've had fun and cheered a few games, and I've put a lottt of work into it. I know physically, it's helping a lot and it's going to make me a much better dancer (dance is my first true love). But with the crazy time commitment and strenuous work outs and snarky girls and constant fear of my coach, I'm really considering quitting. Like, I already have a plan worked out on how to quit.
It's starting to feel like the dance team I was on in 7th grade. I had fun, but it was the same basic idea. We got strong, we competed, we smiled a lot. It cost a ton and we had to do crazy long rehearsals (3 hours on pointe, 4 nights a week. that sort of thing) and our choreographer and coach was a little psycho. But cheer is twice as stressful, costs a lot too, and and my coach is a little more than psycho. It feels like dance team again, except I quit dance team at then end of the season when the coach told me I needed to lose weight.
Everything about this year feels like 7th grade again. Agb is in my life, my grades are slipping, and I'm stressed to the point where I'm having panic attacks and am seriously afraid of ulcerating my stomach. The only thing that's missing is that I'm not cutting myself, and at this point who knows, one argument with my mother could set me off. I hate this. I'm usually a really happy person, but right now I'm genuinely unhappy.
I'm under so much pressure, and I know at some point something's going to have to give. Either cheer or me. Because I won't quit work, and I can't quit school. I don't want to quit cheer, but at the same time I do. I feel like I have to. I know I should, for the sake of my sanity. I mean, I will never love cheer the way I love dance, but dance will never make me strong the way cheer is. I wish I could just make something go away!
I love that cheer is improving my physical strength and jumps and tumbling. I want to be all cute and fit. And I love being able to relate to certain girls on the team in a way that I wouldn't be able to without cheer. I love being able to cheer games every week because it feels like performing. I know if I quit it, I'll regret it and miss it. But I can't help realizing how much happier I was the year after I quit dance team.
If I knew I could quit cheer and still be buds with my friends on the team, I would. if I knew I could quit cheer, but have some way of retaining all that graceful athleticism, I would. Because at this point I want to. I really want to. I know I'd get over it, and I know that no matter what I do, the snarky girls on the team will remain snarky towards me. I know I'd eventually get used to not being seen as a cheerleader. I know I would be able to survive somehow.
But I like my uniform, and I like being able to do a toe-touch whenever, and I like knowing sidelines and combos and vocabulary. My friends tell me I'm really good at cheer, and one told me I was born to do it. I like being spirited and stuff. But I can be spirited from the stands. I know what it's like to be on the field now, and honestly, I think being in the stands is a little more fun. I just don't know what to do.
I've been waiting for things to improve, but they haven't. Do I wait a little longer? Will I last a little longer? Which do I choose, cheer or my sanity?
I'm not ready for tomorrow. I haven't done any of my homework yet. I'm not emotionally prepared for the idea that this week is going to be starting in a matter of hours. This week is going to be busy and stressful, just like last week, and just like next week will be. Normally I'd be like "bring it on, homeboy", except I'm mentally and physically exhausted. I was soooo greatful it was the weekend because that meant a break, but I really haven't had a break all weekend. I've been busy and all over the place and I haven't had any time to just chill. I need time to sleep in and watch tv for hours on end, because that's besically the only way I can get my brain to relax. MY BRAIN IS VERY UNRELAXED. I feel like I want to puke.
I'm realizing that cheer is basically half of it all. Without cheer, I'd be much, muchhh less stressed out. It's getting to the point where I don't even know if it's worth staying on the team anymore. I've had fun and cheered a few games, and I've put a lottt of work into it. I know physically, it's helping a lot and it's going to make me a much better dancer (dance is my first true love). But with the crazy time commitment and strenuous work outs and snarky girls and constant fear of my coach, I'm really considering quitting. Like, I already have a plan worked out on how to quit.
It's starting to feel like the dance team I was on in 7th grade. I had fun, but it was the same basic idea. We got strong, we competed, we smiled a lot. It cost a ton and we had to do crazy long rehearsals (3 hours on pointe, 4 nights a week. that sort of thing) and our choreographer and coach was a little psycho. But cheer is twice as stressful, costs a lot too, and and my coach is a little more than psycho. It feels like dance team again, except I quit dance team at then end of the season when the coach told me I needed to lose weight.
Everything about this year feels like 7th grade again. Agb is in my life, my grades are slipping, and I'm stressed to the point where I'm having panic attacks and am seriously afraid of ulcerating my stomach. The only thing that's missing is that I'm not cutting myself, and at this point who knows, one argument with my mother could set me off. I hate this. I'm usually a really happy person, but right now I'm genuinely unhappy.
I'm under so much pressure, and I know at some point something's going to have to give. Either cheer or me. Because I won't quit work, and I can't quit school. I don't want to quit cheer, but at the same time I do. I feel like I have to. I know I should, for the sake of my sanity. I mean, I will never love cheer the way I love dance, but dance will never make me strong the way cheer is. I wish I could just make something go away!
I love that cheer is improving my physical strength and jumps and tumbling. I want to be all cute and fit. And I love being able to relate to certain girls on the team in a way that I wouldn't be able to without cheer. I love being able to cheer games every week because it feels like performing. I know if I quit it, I'll regret it and miss it. But I can't help realizing how much happier I was the year after I quit dance team.
If I knew I could quit cheer and still be buds with my friends on the team, I would. if I knew I could quit cheer, but have some way of retaining all that graceful athleticism, I would. Because at this point I want to. I really want to. I know I'd get over it, and I know that no matter what I do, the snarky girls on the team will remain snarky towards me. I know I'd eventually get used to not being seen as a cheerleader. I know I would be able to survive somehow.
But I like my uniform, and I like being able to do a toe-touch whenever, and I like knowing sidelines and combos and vocabulary. My friends tell me I'm really good at cheer, and one told me I was born to do it. I like being spirited and stuff. But I can be spirited from the stands. I know what it's like to be on the field now, and honestly, I think being in the stands is a little more fun. I just don't know what to do.
I've been waiting for things to improve, but they haven't. Do I wait a little longer? Will I last a little longer? Which do I choose, cheer or my sanity?
Saturday, September 11, 2010
I'm Ok, Thanks For Asking :)
Cassi! Look what I got!! Your hair looks really red in the one picture, I like it :) That java chip smoothie tasted like pure sex, we must get back to that coffee shop. Also, note the creepy looking kid in the backround XD
So today was pretty awesome. I sang the national anthem with the elite choir at my school for a parade, then I hung out with Agb. We kissed on top of a mountain. Then I came home to find Xavier on my bed!! Look how shiny he is. There's also a tile I painted. It's ok I guess, kinda boring but oh well. Xavier turned out awesomeeee <3
So today was pretty awesome. I sang the national anthem with the elite choir at my school for a parade, then I hung out with Agb. We kissed on top of a mountain. Then I came home to find Xavier on my bed!! Look how shiny he is. There's also a tile I painted. It's ok I guess, kinda boring but oh well. Xavier turned out awesomeeee <3
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Crying In Public
You know, I'm definitely here for anyone who needs emotional support, 24/7, regardless of whether you live next door or across the Atlantic. But not once today did anyone ask me how I was feeling. I guess everyone I was talking to just kind of assumed that I'm peachy keen because I offered to help them deal with their problems. I'm not pissed, just a little frustrated that no one's given me an opportunity to deal with my own emotional damage today.
Guess what? My friend died. And my father knew, and didn't tell me for almost a week, but then decided the best time to tell me was this morning, right after services ended. Hey dad, your timing is shit. I immediately started crying in the middle of temple and had to escape to the car because I hate crying in public. Would anyone like to know how I'm feeling today? Fuck it, I'm telling you anyway.
I'm shocked, and sad, and wrought with this feeling of gnawing emptiness, and worried about my friend's family, and I miss him, and I can't even think of him without tearing up. And I'm angry as hell that my father knew for almost an entire week and didn't have the courtesy to tell me, and embarrassed that I actually cried today for the first time in forever.
And it would have been just a little comforting to have been able to say all of this to someone in person, but no one asked, so whatever.
Guess what? My friend died. And my father knew, and didn't tell me for almost a week, but then decided the best time to tell me was this morning, right after services ended. Hey dad, your timing is shit. I immediately started crying in the middle of temple and had to escape to the car because I hate crying in public. Would anyone like to know how I'm feeling today? Fuck it, I'm telling you anyway.
I'm shocked, and sad, and wrought with this feeling of gnawing emptiness, and worried about my friend's family, and I miss him, and I can't even think of him without tearing up. And I'm angry as hell that my father knew for almost an entire week and didn't have the courtesy to tell me, and embarrassed that I actually cried today for the first time in forever.
And it would have been just a little comforting to have been able to say all of this to someone in person, but no one asked, so whatever.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
The Game
Not THE GAME, cuz THE GAME is obnoxious, and btw you just lost. This is a different game. I like to call it the "make bad decisions and laugh as you do it" game.
This game involves one player, moi.
The rule is, if I know I should be doing homework, or practicing my aliyah for next week, or practicing my solo for tomorrow's mock auditions, or doing that project for US History, then I absolutely must not under any circumstances actually do any of that until at least 11pm, by which time, I'm tired, and will half-ass it all anyway.
And here I am wondering why my grades are this low this early in the year. Unfortunately, the game is sooo much fun to play, I do it every night. Fuck studying, there are depressing books to read and pictures to draw. It's already 10:27... I told myself I'd start early tonight, at 9... ha.
At this point I'm just sort of stalling because I really hate chemistry worksheets and I couldn't care less about the 4th ammendment, which I'm supposed to be making a poster about.
Tum ti tumm...
I think I'll go work on a portrait :P
This game involves one player, moi.
The rule is, if I know I should be doing homework, or practicing my aliyah for next week, or practicing my solo for tomorrow's mock auditions, or doing that project for US History, then I absolutely must not under any circumstances actually do any of that until at least 11pm, by which time, I'm tired, and will half-ass it all anyway.
And here I am wondering why my grades are this low this early in the year. Unfortunately, the game is sooo much fun to play, I do it every night. Fuck studying, there are depressing books to read and pictures to draw. It's already 10:27... I told myself I'd start early tonight, at 9... ha.
At this point I'm just sort of stalling because I really hate chemistry worksheets and I couldn't care less about the 4th ammendment, which I'm supposed to be making a poster about.
Tum ti tumm...
I think I'll go work on a portrait :P
Monday, September 6, 2010
She's Done It Again
Weeeeeeeell I've done something stupid. Even I didn't think I could get this stupid pretaining to matters of the heart. It's not like I expected to see a movie with him, or for him to ask me if we're officially "dating" and for me to say yes, even though it's not Facebook official and I'm not sure how long my stupidity will last. And no, I didn't get back with Mwb, this is a different guy, one with whom I have about double the history with, if that's even possible. Cassi's met him, actually. Let's call him Annoying Ginger Boy. Agb from here on out. He and I have already lived through a world of stupid. But today added to it. I was stupid. Not horrifically stupid, infact, I know exactly how to un-stupid the situation. I just don't know if I want to...
Friday, September 3, 2010
Eh-scap-ayy! (Escape)
I cheered my first football game last night!! It went great!! A few people told me I did really good! Yay!
Tonight I went to my friend's house.
It was fun at first, but after a while I started to get a headache and a tummy-ache, and I realized I was starting to have a panic attack. I haven't panicked since 8th grade, so it really scared me, and I devised a plan for my dad to help me fake a reason for him to come pick me up. My plan worked and I got home and calmed down. I love my father.
I don't love the way my anxiety took hold of me and I lost control over it. I'm usually very in-check. I mean, I'm loud and outgoing, but my emotions are always under my complete control. I never cry in front of people, I never get angry enough to raise my voice, and I never show large amounts of fear. Tonight I kept my shit it line until my father could help me remove myself from the eyes of my peers, but what if I can't do that next time?
To me, any public signs of emotion=vulnerability and an opportunity for people to take advantage of me. I don't get emotional, I just don't. I'm too good at lying and acting to let people see the way I may be feeling for real.
Luckily, I had an escape this time.
What if the next time I get an attack, I don't have a way out?
That scares the shit out of me.
Tonight I went to my friend's house.
It was fun at first, but after a while I started to get a headache and a tummy-ache, and I realized I was starting to have a panic attack. I haven't panicked since 8th grade, so it really scared me, and I devised a plan for my dad to help me fake a reason for him to come pick me up. My plan worked and I got home and calmed down. I love my father.
I don't love the way my anxiety took hold of me and I lost control over it. I'm usually very in-check. I mean, I'm loud and outgoing, but my emotions are always under my complete control. I never cry in front of people, I never get angry enough to raise my voice, and I never show large amounts of fear. Tonight I kept my shit it line until my father could help me remove myself from the eyes of my peers, but what if I can't do that next time?
To me, any public signs of emotion=vulnerability and an opportunity for people to take advantage of me. I don't get emotional, I just don't. I'm too good at lying and acting to let people see the way I may be feeling for real.
Luckily, I had an escape this time.
What if the next time I get an attack, I don't have a way out?
That scares the shit out of me.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
I stole it from Cassi
If I were a month, I'd be July
If I were a day of the week, I'd be Saturday
If I were a time of day, I'd be 3 am
If I were a planet, I'd be Raxiccoricophalipetorius (Doctor Who reference..)
If I were a sea animal, I'd be a shark!
If I were a direction, I'd be forward
If I were a piece of furniture, I'd be a chaize-lounge
If I were a liquid, I'd be kool aid
If I were a gemstone, I'd be alexandrite
If I were a tree, I'd be a christmas tree!
If I were a flower, I'd be a daffodil
If I were a kind of weather, I'd be the dark clouds that the sun shines into
If I were a musical instrument, I'd be a uekelele
If I were a color, I'd be neon pink :)
If I were an emotion, I'd be bliss
If I were a fruit, I'd be a lemon
If I were an element, I'd be cobalt
If I were a food, I’d be sushi, because then I'd be amazing
If I were a scent, I'd be pumpkin pie
If I were an object, I'd be a mirror
If I were a body part, I'd be eyes
If I were a song, I'd be the sickest song you've ever heard
If I were a pair of shoes, I'd be shiny oxford stillettos
If I were a relationship status, I'd be it's very complicated
If I were a kiss, I'd be gentle and passionate
If I were a smile, I'd be genuine
<3
If I were a day of the week, I'd be Saturday
If I were a time of day, I'd be 3 am
If I were a planet, I'd be Raxiccoricophalipetorius (Doctor Who reference..)
If I were a sea animal, I'd be a shark!
If I were a direction, I'd be forward
If I were a piece of furniture, I'd be a chaize-lounge
If I were a liquid, I'd be kool aid
If I were a gemstone, I'd be alexandrite
If I were a tree, I'd be a christmas tree!
If I were a flower, I'd be a daffodil
If I were a kind of weather, I'd be the dark clouds that the sun shines into
If I were a musical instrument, I'd be a uekelele
If I were a color, I'd be neon pink :)
If I were an emotion, I'd be bliss
If I were a fruit, I'd be a lemon
If I were an element, I'd be cobalt
If I were a food, I’d be sushi, because then I'd be amazing
If I were a scent, I'd be pumpkin pie
If I were an object, I'd be a mirror
If I were a body part, I'd be eyes
If I were a song, I'd be the sickest song you've ever heard
If I were a pair of shoes, I'd be shiny oxford stillettos
If I were a relationship status, I'd be it's very complicated
If I were a kiss, I'd be gentle and passionate
If I were a smile, I'd be genuine
<3
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