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Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Am I amusing to them?

Either Fates hates me or Fate really enjoys seeing me squirm, jump up and down in frustration or etc. because seriously when does this ever happen to normal people?
Last week I got into a heated (very loud and public) argument (fight is more of the word... there was some pushing) with...
Boy Who Walked Away.
Boy Who Broke My Heart A Year And Some Months ago.
Boy Who Apparently Harbors Short Term Memory Loss Because He Acts Like Nothing Happen!
Boy Who's In Two Of My Classes But Hardly Acknowledges Me!!!
UNTIL NOW.
Or should I say then?
Anyway, like I was saying we got in a fight. About what you say? Get this, A BOOK.
Yes, I your crazy/lovable/wonderfully confused blogger got in a fight with her crush for two and a half years finally grew some balls and had a more than one syllable conversation (correction: fight) with the boy of her dreams/nightmares over. A. BOOK.
In the words of my idol, Jessica Darling: Susan Falludie Bullshit!
I mean how dumb and twisted not to mention hellishly ironic is that???
A lot. To much to seem even the slightest sane for reality. Though I must admit reality has never been my strongest subject of expertise. Oh hell what do I know about reality anyways? Nothing. Zip. Zero. In fact I'm pretty sure I lost the sight of reality at the age of three. So maybe the whole scenario could have been predicted.
Enough of my babble. Here's what happen as I witnessed and lived through it:
Scene: Nine something in the morning (I'm sorry I don't look at the clock every second). My AP Lang class had begun and in walks the teacher announcing to us all to find the other people in our book group (earlier the teacher had given us a list of five books to choose from and we had to pick one to read, test over, then have a group discussion with the other people that had chose the book as well).
If I had been smarter and thinking with my heart I would have read the Holocaust book that caught my true attention but no. Unfortunately, I happen to be absent the day my class originally picked their book for which they had the disadvantage of choosing a book that they picked on their own terms and not of their friends (everyone couldn't talk to their friends and negotiate a mutual book they were all reading) but this is where my advantage was. My teacher had already made a list of kids who picked a book and she let me an this other girl that hadn't been there pick having seen all the names of the people that had already been placed in reading the books. So naturally, like the sneaky devil I am, to a gander at the names under each book and eventually found Boy Who Walked Away, looked at the book he chose to read and chose the same one seeing it as a ploy to talk to him. Okay, mind you this had been like what? Four weeks ago? Five? I have no idea and don't give a crap. All I can do to explain to you readers is that I was, in a way... under the influence... of love.
I know, gag me.
But I was under the influence of the idea of talking and even if that didn't happen I was at least near him in a confide circle with him. Anyway this desion had happen before I had ever came up with the resolution and getting over Boy Who Walked Away. So of course that day I was paying the price for my actions and ultimately my opinions, tendency to voice them out, and that big red fat arrow pointing down on me that says Victim on it that only Boy Who Walked Away can read!!!
Back to scene: My AP classmates eagerly go and find the people in our reading groups and line up the chairs in little circles having at most five people in each. In my circle, other then Boy Who Walked Away and I, are three girls, lets call them... Strawberry, Glasses, and Blue Eyes and one boy, let's call him BOB.
Strawberry: So guys who liked the book? She flips her Strawberry blond hair.
Glasses: Heh. It was alright.
Blue Eyes: It was kind of confusing but okay, I guess I'm just sort of indifferent.
Strawberry: Me, too.
BOB: I really liked it, actually.
Strawberry looks at Boy Who Walked Away who is right next to him. He's wearing a dark gray Polo, jeans, and flip-flops he wears almost everyday (so I've noticed, sue me!). He's seated in a relaxed, imposing position with his arms crisscrossed against his chest that I could imagine a king of a mighty land could pull off. Strawberry: So what about you, (insert his name here)?
Boy Who Walked Away: (Makes a bit of a face.) I hated it. It was completely a waste of not only my time but of everyone elses time that had to read this god for saken book!
I should mention my mouth had begun on the pretence of forming a disbelieving O by this point and my eyes had become involuntarily shrewd-like. I don't care who the person is if anybody bashes a book that I really took a delight in reading right in front of my like that I will not be afraid to speak my mind. Oh shall had keepith thou mouth shut and haveth become invisible.
Strawberry caught my look and possibly remembering how much I had told her while reading the book how I really liked it, asked me next for my opinion of the book.
Strawberry: Have anything to say to that, (insert my name here)? DO you want to say anything against (Boy Who Walked Away)?
I should have said no and maybe I would have if not for Boy Who Walked Away had looked straight at me where I was sitting right next to him (he moved his desk next to me! I did not desk stalk him!) and give me a smirk-grin that reminded me a little creepily of It Started with A Kiss Zhi shu when he thinks Xiang Qin is just a little dimwit with nothing to say and no guts to speak against him then Boy Who Walked Away leaned against his chair with both arms relaxing under his head and said,
Boy Who Walked Away: Yes, (insert my name here) what do you think?
That's when I the sheep puffed up with all the pride I had and blew it in the face of the lion He Who Walked Away.
Me: I really liked reading this book, actually. I said with a bit of a prissy tone.
Boy Who Walked Away: Really? (one eyebrow up the other down)
Me: Yes, really.
Boy Who Walked Away challenged me: Okay, why did you like it so much?
Me: I loved the way the words just flew out of the page... in a continuous stream.
Boy Who Walked Away interrupted: She complained too much.
Me: She was trying to get her point across... and to tell you the truth the way many of the women in Muslim societies are treated like -like property!- is a point that should not be taken light-
BOB: You're a feminist, aren't you?
Me: A little bit, I guess. Especially when I'm passionate about something in particular-
BOB: Yeah, you seem like it...
Boy Who Walked Away said to BOB: Shut up. You're not in this.
Everyone in the group besides myself and Boy Who Walked Away gape at him.
Boy Who Walked Away: One of the other things that also annoyed me: She blamed her religion for almost everything! I was like: Really?! Are you serious!? This woman is unbelievable!
Me: She was at a lost for most of her life! ...Religion can seriously mess up a person if pressured too much! I felt connection to her while reading this book... be-because-because I also have felt doubts of G-God and the devil-
Boy Who Walked Away: Her story was incredibly too long!
Me: But-!
Boy Who Walked Away: It put me to sleep and I for one hope I never have to meet her one day because surely I would have to slap some sense into her and for having me read her terrible novel!
Me: But-!
Boy Who Walked Away: And what was with that mother of hers?! Letting herself being beaten by her mom. Hell, if my mother ever did that to me-
Me frustrated: (insert his name here) I can't believe you!
We were both yelling (he, letting his overbearing, arrogant self unleash and me, just a loud speaker)and the whole class including the teacher had stopped talking amongst themselves and were now staring at me and Boy Who Walked Away fight. My teacher, in fact, was looking clearly amused and a bit fascinated. The woman probably had never seen two teenagers get into such a heated fight over a book before.
Finally the teacher announced that all the groups were to write together a summary of the book they read and read it to the rest of the class that didn't read it. Our group managed to do this while Boy Who Walked Away kept contradicting my opinions and making me flustered and more frustrated the more. No matter what happen between us I would always become a weak minded sort around him and he knew he was weakening my stance on the book but I refused to let him win so I kept on fighting him.
Once we finished the summary that was very short and did not do the book justice whatsoever Strawberry asked all of us who wanted to go up in front of the class and read it.
Glasses: Ugh. Not me.
Blue Eyes: I rather not.
Strawberry: Well I don't want to do it.
BOB: I'll do it!
Strawberry, Glasses, Blue Eyes: NO!
Strawberry: You were in detention for the past three weeks during school-
Glasses: I doubt you read the whole book, BOB.
BOB shrugs.
Boy Who Walked Away: Whatever, I'll do it. (Takes the paper with summary from Strawberry.
Strawberry: Uh, NO. Definitely not you. (Takes the paper back)
Boy Who Walked Away: What? Why not?
Strawberry: You've spent the whole class hour telling everyone how much you hate this book.
Blue Eyes: You'll probably end up forgetting about the summary and go up there and start bashing the book.
Boy Who Walked Away: That's ridiculous.
Me: I'll do it if no one is going to do it.
Strawberry: Okay. (She gives me the paper)
I start to get up but then feel a hand on my shoulder pulling me down into my chair. It's his hand.
Boy Who Walked Away: Oh no way! If I can't go up there she can't go up there! That's completely unfair!
Strawberry: I think it's safe to say that (insert my name here) is more reliable than you, (insert his name here).
Boy Who Walked Away: Biased!
Strawberry: No your biased!
Boy Who Walked Away: Yes, and (insert my name here) is, too!
BOB: I said I'll do it!
Boy Who Walked Away and Strawberry: NO!
It was right around that time that I snuck away from Boy Who Walked Away's vision and hurried to the front of the classroom to give our group's summary.
When Boy Who Walked Away noticed he stood up as well and then...
Crossed him arms against his chest like an imperial lord...
And then...
Leaned against the wall facing adjacent to where I was standing...
Just like he used to do in freshmen year.
Always, always at the beginning of class he did this and would do it throughout class if our teacher in ninth grade didn't tell him to sit. I haven't seen him do this in any of the two classes I have with him so this was the first time he did this for a while.
At that instant I felt like I was in ninth grade again. When these kind of scenarios weren't so rare and completely surprising.
I wanted so badly to walk over to him and slap him for reminding me of the old days... and then I wanted to kiss him for just the same reason.
Thankfully I still have some tiny grip to reality enough to not ever do that!
After swallowing the hard clump is my heart I began to read under his shrewd gaze. I made a point to reading every single word and not add anything to it just in case Boy Who Walked Away noticed and tried using that for material for another fight. Once I was finished the teacher, obviously thinking about my and Boy Who Walked Away's fight earlier asked me then:
Teacher: So, do you have anything to add to the book. Was there anything you liked about the book, hated... what?
This woman wanted me killed.
I began repeating the reasons to her of what I told my group and mostly Boy Who Walked Away.
That was when Boy Who Walked Away started shaking his head at me from across the room.
He was just so distracting! Finally before I could finish saying all my reasons I got aggravated enough to throw up my arms and say:
Me: DO you have something to add to the book, (insert his name here)?
Boy Who Walked Away: (Grinning and smirking.) Absolutely.
Me: Go ahead then!
I made my way across the room and right next to him where my chair was but instead of sitting I chose to stand up and look at him condescendingly with my arms crossed, too. A minute passed by before I became distracting to him when I started to shake my head at his views.
But like always he was much smarter and clever.
He stopped in mid-sentence on his rant...
Turned his whole body to look at me...
And said...
Boy Who Walked Away: You. (He pointed at me with his finger even though I was right next to him.) You sit down. (And then pointed at my seat.)
Me: (Speechless with my mouth agape.)
Classroom: OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH
I push him. And grudgingly sit down with no worthy comeback.
And now we haven't really talked since.
But today we got new assigned seats and somehow... in Fate's dimented mind... Boy Who Walked Away sits in back of me now!
Fate just doesn't want me to get over him even whenever I have such an appealing new crush now...
WHY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Saturday, October 9, 2010

UPDATE!

I got a car.
I got a car.
I got a car!
I GOT A FREAKEN CAR, PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Heh, who would have thought.
Just two weeks ago I got into a very heated argument with my father in the car, and like usual when my dad and I are alone in a confined space. I bring of the C word.
Car, not the other word.
Every time I bring of the fact that I am a teenager who is car-less my dad and I enact world war 3 with me crying hysterically and him pretty much saying my car will end up like my siblings past cars (which he paid for most of them), in the car graveyard. That's when the water works start to come because everyone who knows me and my sibling know that I am nothing like them but my dad -who in a way doesn't really know me (language barrier)- cannot believe my promises that I most likely not end up crashing my car like some senseless teenager. What i see is my dad continually stereotyping me for my age as well as my gender. When my older siblings were my age they were the definition for senseless teenager, in fact I can already see their picture with beers in their hands and possibly my douche of a brother praying to the porcelain god wearng smudged up makeup and a mini skirt.
I actually do have a picture that I could lend to Webster.
They partied at clubs when they were still underage as well as drank and considered C's on report cards as the best they could do.
I am nothing like that. But does my dad see that? NO. And can I accept that? NO.
As I have seemed to witness recently I am a strong believer in my rights as a human being, not so much of considering to be a politician because politics disgust me, but to the point that I let my injustice speak, practically sing out of me when I feel rightly wronged, especially if I am passionate about the subject. And I've been waiting for my car for almost two years, I was as passionate as anybody could get.
So I cry because in a way I know my father and he and I share certain aspects of our personality which is stubbornness and at the time I believed my dad would never get me a car.
This is where I felt I was rightly wronged, because my being the total opposite of my siblings also means that I do care about my grades and my future. I never get in trouble at school, I am a freaken homebody who reads for fun, I have never done drugs or drank alcohol and I am still a virgin. Most parents would kill to have their teenager share the same history as me. I do this mostly by choice because admittedly I do sort of put myself on a pedestal and the last person I want to disappoint is myself but I still thought at the time that I deserved a car.
No, wait... not just a car but my freedom. To a teenager cars are not just a piece of metal with a motor and wheels but a passport to freedom which most of the time they do abuse the freedom. Which my dad thought. He knows that all in all besides my occasional hysteria I am a good kid but he thought everything would just go down hill for me if I got behind a wheel and went crazy in the teenage sense. But that was never my plan, car does mean freedom for me, freedom from my parents, my house, my childhood. Except it does also mean I finally get to find a job which leads to having my own money so I can buy what I want and not have to ask my parents for this and that. I also won't have to inconvenience them with my errands. I also need to grow up.
Let's face it, I am going to collage in the very near future (year and a half) and if I am forced to go to a school out of state with no experience of the outside world I am going to fail in life. My parents have me pampered and sheltered and other kinds of verbs and frankly I need to get a reality check because I am not going to be living with them after I graduate. I harbor too many aspirations to resort ending up like my older sister who still lives with us.
I need to grow up!
I also need to be away from my mother whenever she's in one of her moods.
I tell my dad this concluding it all with slamming the front door with a extra hard bang when we finally get home. My dad orders me never to do that and I retort that considering how I feel and his actions concerning my mother whenever he and my mother get mad... I have every right to slam a door.
Finally he says, If you think having a car is going to make everything perfect than I'll get you a car!
Oh, right. I was sick of the argument. You'll get me a car, SOON! And went into my room.
I said soon because this had been the word my dad usually used when discussing the time when I would finally get a car, so I was mocking him the only way I (as nothing like a rebel child) could end the argument with a sort of satisfaction.
But my dad surprised me, the next week my mom called me from her work and said I should start looking for a car because they were going to buy me one.
I started crying again I was so happy.
I guess persistence is key.
My father bought me a dark jade new beetle which I named The Bubble or Kuwaii(Japanese for cute). I guess all the waiting wasn't such a waste because ever since I was a little girl I wanted a new beetle!
Now, homecoming. You know the game, the parade, that dance? I didn't go to my last one sophomore year but when I asked one of my best friends if she might want to go she said, "Sure, it will be fun." This was surprising for me because she was the reason why I didn't go last time because I knew I wouldn't have any fun without her and she hardly cares for dances but she said she would go and I didn't have to convince her like past dances. What was even more surprising was when my other best friend said she would go to. Her parents are pretty strict and they don't like the idea of her near guys at night but she asked (pleaded?) and they eventually gave her permission to go to the dance. It was fun for the most part. I danced like I was alone with the door closed, minus a few booty shakes because I didn't want any guys staring, and had a good time with my two best friends I was called beautiful by two of my guy friends and I surprised my ex best friend with me dance moves.
Though eventually I did get stabbed in the toe which left me handicapped for the rest of the night (Long story with me cursing my own heels and yelling "Shit!" on the dance floor. During the time I was sitting at one of the tables with my friends the song "You're Hot and You're Cold" by Katy Perry came on and I started singing to it because this song reminded me of my crush from my last entry (boy who walked away).
And now here's the evidence that the universe likes to see me suffer.
Right when I started to sing along to Katy Perry I see my long lived crush for the first time that whole night.
At least for what I could see he didn't have a date but just to get on the universe's nerves I continued to sing up and loud to Katy Perry's words until by the end of the song, he disappeared. Admittedly, I didn't care if he heard me sing along to the song (it's weird with us, he has no problem with grabing my hand in the midst of comparing to his friends these two books our reading group's book and another reading group's book. With one of his hands holding the smaller book and the other holding my hand which is holding the bigger book. When he did this I was frozen stiff, he was so close if I had turn my head and tilted my head just a few centimeters forward I could have kissed him but instead i pulled my hands away from my edition of the novel and let him hold it to compare the size of the two. I didn't want him to touch me). For all I was concerned he could have not have existed. You see, for over the past few weeks I have been focusing most of my attention on this one guy (the same guy I mentioned in one of my past posts) and pretty much I have been trying me hardest to put forth my feeling on him than on the boy who walked away. In a way I am not solving anything with shifting my feelings onto a new guy (well not so much new I've liked him foe a while) but right now... what can I do. I'm starting to talk to this guy and I think I have a chance with him if we get to know one another better. Who knows...
After Homecoming my friends and I all convinced my parents to find the nearest burger place so we could get something to eat because our school was too cheap to get anything to eat for the dance besides a water cooler and we were starving. All night, in the back of my mind I couldn't once stop thinking about food.
Hey, I only had a freaken lean pocket after I woke up that day. Could anybody really blame me?

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Me and My Usual Craziness

I smell like dog.
I've spent three hours with a bunch of dogs and puppies for this dog adoption Petsmart was having in my city. I volunteered to walk and play with the dogs for volunteer hours for a club at my school. It was fun hanging out with friends and I only managed to step on a little piece of poo the whole time there.
On recent update: Summer has passed which I spent for two weeks in Mexico half in the cute tourist city of Puerto Vallarta and the other half in my grandparent's small town in the country which I got to bring my best friend with me and two girl cousins of mine who are close in age also went.
I've spent about a month or so in school so far and here's my schedule:
Ceramics 1
AP Language and Composition
AP Environmental Science
Choir
Algebra 2
AP World History
That's right, count them, I'm in three AP classes. Originally I was only going to be in one which was AP Language and Composition because I assumed it would help for what I would plan on majoring in once I was in college, which it will... if it doesn't totally ruin me and my spirit for writing in the process. Yet once I was at in enrollment I became too overly cocky when I thought about how my A in U.S. history never budged and then came to the conclusion that I would transfer into AP World History than take regular World History. Why the hell not? I asked myself rhetorically. Later after school started I was later convinced by a few friends that I should also transfer into AP Environmental Science instead of regular Environmental Science and seeing as how i was only one of the three juniors in my class, the rest being sophomores I decided that I would indeed switch into the notoriously easy AP class that was filled with more juniors and seniors than sophomores. No offense to 10Th graders all and all.
And in conclusion: AP Environmental is an okay class that I have a barely there A in yet I shall admit this now that AP World, after my first quiz in the first weekend of school, swiped that smug little grin off my face and answered my mainly rhetorical question at enrollment: Why the hell not? Answer: Because life isn't all "Sunshine, lollipops and rainbows", sorry Leslie Gore. But then again it is "my party and I'll cry if I want to". But I am glad to tell you that after two F's and one D on a quiz I am finally beating the system. I got a C this last Thursday and I have no doubt that later I am going to be making A's.
I mean I need to be making A's this year, I have no choice. Junior year is the year colleges are going to be mainly looking at because that's the last completed year a person has finished when colleges are accepting them in senior year. Plus, after my calculations of my grades I would need to make straight A's this year and my senior year to at least have a 3.3 GPA.
Ha, how funny that the number 3 is my life number in numerology.
Ha.
On other news: I finally spoke to the boy that broke my heart in freshman year. Only took a year and one month to do it. I think that deserves a round of applause, I mean that's quicker than never, right? And believe me... never was a definite possibility.
It was yesterday at school after my sixth hour class of AP World History which I shared with him and AP Language & Composition (tell you that complicated story later) and after two weeks of avoiding each other quite awkwardly I finally, agonizingly, spoke to the boy. I was in the hall outside my classroom, he was a few people behind me, alone, with no friends hanging around to discourage me and so I chose to slow my pace to snail-like speed until he was close to my side. My heart was beating rapidly, my brain wouldn't stop rambling things like, Do it! Just do it! Open your mouth and do it!!!! He can't ignore you forever and you can't ignore him forever either! Do it! For Lord's sake!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!, and I also felt light headed for the most part.
But then I did it, I spun over to face him and said in a very high voice, my little girl voice that I usually use for adults I don't know or know that well and when I'm shy, "Hi, (insert his name here)!" With a bright smile on my face.
I was smiling to cover the fact that this was one of the most mortifying things I have ever done in my life so far.
I admit I caught the poor boy off guard and had sucky timing as well because he was on the phone then and about to make a call. "Uh, hi..." He managed to respond to me, a surprised expression on his face.
And then, because my damned overly politeness I harbored, not wanting to interrupt his call, I left it at that and resumed my way towards the disgusting school buses that my parents insist on making me use as transportation to getting home because sadly I still don't have my car.
Once I had gotten on the bus and found a seat with an underclassmen I mumbled, imagining that I was talking to him, "Was it as awkward for you as it was for me?," my imaginary crush then answered, "Yes, it certainly was."
I stared gloomily out the window the rest of the ride to my house.
Later that night I went with my friend to my school football game that they were having against my school's arch rival. For hell's sake we both wrote our school's mascot's name on our cheeks and for the first time I got into the game and screamed and clapped and danced when we made a touchdown with the rest of my high school. I don't know what got into me last night. Maybe it was the energy raging within the crowd, maybe it was the Powerade I was downing during the game (the concession had no more water and I didn't stand in a mob of sweaty people and a tall boy's butt against my stomach that was in front of me the majority of the time for Lord knows how long, for nothing) or maybe it was the two cute Chinese exchange students that I was looking at and were also looking at me that gave me that energy. All I know is that I reached a higher octave in my voice when I was yelling. A senior boy painted in our school colors in front of me on the bleachers turned around after one very high and long one and looked at me in bewilderment for a second before yelling, YEAH! and high fiving me in the process.
Huh, who knew being part of the crowd could be so fun?
After my school won and my friend and I were getting into my mom's car a group of the other school's students were yelling to no one particular that my school was stupid and that their school was still the best. I was on such a high I rolled down my window and called out to them, "U suck!" this was funny because the school involved the letter U because the school's name put much definition in the first letter of their school name. They had a giant U on their football field, too.
That was really weird for me to do, what was evev weirder, though, was that my mom called out similar things, too, to them.
Well, that's a story to tell my future kids if I ever have any.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

The EOI's are coming! The EOI's are coming!

Ah, the EOI's. For those of you that don't know what they are let me bear the pleasure on informing you. The EOI's are a series of tests that my school takes over several courses that starting in my year everyone has to pass in order to graduate and be able to harbor a parking space in senior year.
So you can imagine the many freakouts in my school over these tests.
The EOI's are generally easy to say the least on the subject yet just the shear possibility that anyone could fail it if ill prepared scares the bejesus out my upper middle-middle class school. I personally can admit to contributing on this said "freakout". So in order to have high test scores and not have their students go through a meltdown my school holds classes after school in order to review for these notorious examines.
And of course because I'm just a natural goody goody that actually gives a crap about her being able to graduate (and being able to have a car space senior year) I attend these Review sessions. I usually pass these state examines but because I have a horrible teacher in Geometry I am forced to work extra hard in the Review class, especially considering the fact that even though for some the class is meant for as a review of what we have supposed to have already learned... it actually my first time really working on the material.
So you can imagine my intense (and very reasonable) fear of bombing my Geometry EOI and having to take it again next year!
But do you know the real actual reason why I thought my thoughts in this said subject were so vital I just needed to blog it?
It's the people that were in the classroom that the Review sessions were being held.
First let me tell you my school harbors a very vast large amount of students and there are a lot of people taking Geometry but only like close to 20 people attend each class. I only saw one guy from my own Geometry class attend which was kind of surprising because I had no idea this guy gave a crap about his grades but he is an athlete and I guess he just doesn't want to retake the test again next year.
And the Teacher that reviews the material with us is just superb, when I didn't know how to plug in a problem for a trigonometry question and she personally when through it step by step and made sure I understood completely I just about got on my knees and kissed her feet and cried, "Where have you been all my life?!?! I think I love you!!!"
I didn't, of course. Mainly because I don't want the woman to get a restraining order on me because (God, bless the woman!) she also teaches Algebra 2 and I am so going to request for her in junior year. I'm just a bit sad that I didn't have the luck to get her for a Geometry teacher sophomore year as well...
But still I know for a fact that there will be many people from my class that will not pass the EOI and are probably not going to get there senior parking spot.
I just think that it's just really sad to think that there are many teenagers that don't care and only think of the now and here instead of the future.
I guess that's just one of the many of things that separate myself from the average kids in my school.
Because I know that my future is bright and no matter what happens I will always contain the perseverance to not give up and keep charging on to my ultimate dream: of becoming a famous author and seeing the world.
I know I sound retarded but it's true and I just felt like letting it out.

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Freaking Out!!!

I'm at a serious lost right now. I am slowly and steadily freaking out with my grades right now. I have 7 more weeks of school and my grades are like this:
Pre-AP English: C+
Spanish: B
Stagecraft: A
U.S. History: A
Geometry: C
Astronomy: B
I had an A in Pre- AP English Lit. now because I got a C on my last persuasive essay... a C on a discussion group... and a C on a vocab quiz. I have a 79 in the class. I AM PISSED OFF. I need an A in that class. I mean I'm planning on majoring in some type of Literature and I'm going to be in AP Lang. in junior year which is incredibly hard.
All I can say is I'm in deep shit.
Not to mention there is no way in hell that i will be able to raise that C in Geometry because the teacher is just plain a horrible teacher.
As for Astronomy I think I can raise it to an A by the end of the semester and as well as Spanish if I really knuckle down.
I know for a fact my A in History and Stagecraft won't be going anywhere. Yet my goal for the end of this second semester was to have all As. I can't help but feel a bit discouraged by how much my grades are suffering. At least to my standards.
I really want to get into a great liberal arts college and my greatest fear right now is to look stupid in front of everyone and not go to college. I want it, I can almost taste it... but will I only ever imagine going to college? I'm a struggler through life, always have been. In weight, in social interacting with my peers, and academically. When I was younger I was a bright kid, a smart one. But in middle school I sort of let more then my personal life fall but also my grades. I just didn't care and now I'm suffering the consequences because I let my brain go into mush back in the day. My best friends are almost straight A students. One of my best friends has only one B and the rest are straight A's and my other best friend has two B's and the rest are of course straight A's. It seems like I'm always trying to catch up to them but then get even more behind once I think I seem even a little closer on their level. They both tell me I'm doing great and applying myself but still I'm freaking out. I wish every class was like History. I mean all you need to do to achieve an A is read the text book, which I do and I haven't had anything lower then an A all year. Yet Pre-AP English doesn't have a text book and you can't really read a Geometry text book (doesn't matter we have only opened a text book in that class twice!).
It sucks and I'm trying, right now all I can do is hope my best is good enough to at least bring that C in Geometry and Pre-AP English to a B.
Did I mention I have terrible luck?

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Self Worth

I just finished reading The Indigo Notebook and it was very inspiring. Not to be such a bookworm (let's face it i am) but I can't help but just feel overjoyed when I read a book that really makes you think about your life and your choices you make. I've come across a few, like the book Wicked Lovely which got me appreciating tattoos and completely changing my idea on them. Wicked Lovely ultimately got me wanting to have a tattoo one day. It was then after I read A Great and Terrible Beauty that I realized I wanted to become an author, that was a definite life changer. Now the Indigo Notebook has got me thinking about helping others in different countries who are less fortunate then the U.S. I've decided that in the future I want to volunteer in the Peace Corps. I mean it makes sense, right? I always have loved to volunteer for things in school and helping out when I can. It gave a good feeling helping others. There was this time recently when I decided to help my best friend volunteer at this Chinese New Year's Celebration and I helped out with blowing up balloons and painting little kids faces. I enjoyed every second even when my hands started cramping up from painting so many faces but I didn't let it bother me. The whole day was fun and I could just feel my spirit feed off this good deed and feel better about myself.
All my life I have been sheltered and cared for by almost everyone... I mean my parents are in a good place financially in their lives with a good home and food always in the fridge. My older siblings are now in their 20s and don't need my parents anymore which sort of makes me the only child now which means I get an even better life then they did because my parents only have me to think about. I go to a pretty good school in the dreadful suburbs and I'm pretty smart. In a way I am fortunate but I still take it for granted. Something tells me that by joining the Peace Corps will help me grow up and live and survive independently and help people. I decided I want to do that after graduation. I don't know exactly when but sometime in the near future. It will definitely surprise my family and friends but I hope it will help them see me in a different way and find some sort of respect for me afterwards and not just see me as "a spoiled, useless, inconsiderate brat" like know they do.
Most people think I'm a snob or Gothic (even though I don't only wear black) or just a bitch but I'm glad to say they're people who see a pretty good kind hearted person who just wants to feel some self worth in her life.
Crap, am I rambling???
Whatever, I just wanted to let out what I thought...
I mean isn't that what a blog is for?
List of What I Want to Do Before I Die:
1. Publish a novel
2. Graduate High School with at least a 3.5 GPA
3. Go to a great Liberal Arts School OUT OF STATE
3. See the world
4. Join the Peace Corps
5. Find Happiness and Self Worth

Friday, January 29, 2010

Resolutions

Life's never been on my side to say the least but this past month have been pretty good. I've done everything I can to stay true to my resolutions:
My school work: All my classes have been fine and good yet sadly I do have a C in Spanish which considering that I am Mexican is sort of embarrassing (not my fault I am too much drooling on my desk to listen (note: I don't really do that!) to notice what she's saying most of the time but no worries it's a high C so I can easily bring it up if I start getting some sleep during the night. Oh, and I almost forgot. Guess who got an A on her last test last week in Geometry??? ME! Thank the Lord He heard my prayers for the first time in 17 freaken years!
My weight: Well, i don't have a scale or anything but my legs do look better in my skinny jeans (at least that's what my mother keeps mentioning) which isn't so surprising since i was on the treadmill all freaken month. This week alone have I not been on the tred on account of last Sunday. My friend and I were at my house spending the day together to work on our project. When dinner time came my mother walks into the den and asks if we want pizza (i guess she felt being generous because my friend was there and I had been on the tred consistently every night for the past month). We said sure and so she gets us two large cheese and veggie pizzas and I practically eat about 75% of the veggie pizza (I know WTF??? But I hadn't had pizza in the longest of times). Anyway, I completely went over board so after an hour more spent on our wretched Lit. project about The Grapes of Wrath... I run on that tredmill like a rocket! I actually am so into the whole thing I go over my 30 minutes and do almost a whole hour (NON-FREAKEN-STOP!!!) while my best friend just watches me go with popped out eyes and gaping. I'm practically a waterfall by the time I finally get off and I actually fall to the ground and rasping water to my friend and so she runs off to get me some. Once she hands it to my I chug it down like freaken dear life and then I have the audacity to ask more and being a helpful friend she gets me more and then I chug it down again at an even faster speed while my friend begins to warn me to slow down... But do I listen? Nope.
And boy should I.
I assume most of you are have already predicted where this is all going to lead... huh? Well, I obviously didn't.
By the time I get halfway finished I suddenly feel a... sort of clomp in my chest. Like a brick almost, stuck in my bloody rib cage! It almost hurts. It does make me begin to panic (and my friend too when she notices my scared expression) to the point that i have to lay back down again and start to feel the water actually gurgling in my throat!
And then I get that bittersweet taste in my mouth...
And I'm like "OH, SHIT!!!" and i run towards the bathroom and to the toilet just in time to barf water and veggie pizza.
Of course my mother sees all of this to the point that I have to yell "Go away!" and kick the door shut in her face which she only opens it a sec later to watch some more, the weirdo. Later in the car when dropping my friend off to her house she tells me she only "forced" herself to watch me because she wanted to make sure I didn't faint.
"Last thing I want is for your head to fall in the toilet and literally drown in your own barf!" She tells me shrilly.
I just accused her of enjoying the view because she use to be bulimic when I was in elementary until something happen to her jaw which unable her to open her mouth really, really wide. I said to her "Just admit it, mother. You liked watching me barf my guts out. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if while you watched me you had the sudden urge to throw on a cheer uniform and pom poms and start yelling "That's my girl! Like mother like daughter!" To this she actually laughed and called me crazy.
Well... like mother like daughter.
Looking back the whole situation was quite funny if I do say so myself. I mean I did (not intentionally like my older sister claims to differ!) put myself into the situation.
And last but not least... boys: This, sadly yet not surprisingly, I have only increased. You know the boy that walked away? Yeah, I'm still thinking about him and it's been about 8 months since I've spoken to him. Pathetic? I know you don't have to tell me. And what's worse is that my stupid school is having their first Sadie Hawkins Dance! WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?!
Oh, bejesus. Too bad there's only one boy I want and I already know what his answer would be. I'm surprised every time I see him he doesn't run away screaming.
I hate love and love hates me.