Saturday, October 9, 2010


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?