sit down. shut up. read. it's time for a history lesson.

Yesterday: Bonnie's house after her birthday dinner.
Out of the corner of my eye I see Bonnie all over Henry. Right next to me on the couch. RIGHT. NEXT. TO. ME. Or at least, I think I do.
It's pretty much safe to say that I'm freaked out because I never would have imagined such a thing; he's practically her slightly younger brother. So I turn to take a proper look.
They're not doing anything like I thought they were.
In reality, Bonnie is trying to force his arm around me and he's giving her a good fight for control of his own arm.
"What the fuck?" I laugh semi-nervously. I laugh because I'm hoping Bonnie won't try to hook me up with Henry like she's done with Carly and Nicole. Nicole, luckily, dodged that bullet at the last minute.
I kind of feel sorry for Henry, seeing as Bonnie has put it up to herself to find him girlfriends, but I feel even more sorry for me.
I love hanging out with these guys. I have a tiny story with almost everyone in the room. Most of the guys are up playing Wii, and I'm sitting back, relaxed on the couch wondering why it took me so long to realize what being a teenager is really like.
With Henry, well... He stood up for me [out of pity, I'm sure] when Tony made fun of me on my birthday. He was really nice and made Tony call me afterwards and apologize. How sweet.
Tony---was an ass at first. But he turned out to be the sweetest, seemingly-ten-but-really-fourteen-year-old kid that I know. Despite making me almost cry on my birthday, I have decided that I like him. I'm weird like that. I sit next to him sharing time with Bonnie's new puppy. Both of us want to take him home with us.
Tony's older brother Mike is such a player. He's the one I'm most wary of. He will hit on anything with a two legs and vagina. Not kidding. And to this, there is no exception. On my birthday I seemed to be his main target. The new girl. Yaaaayyy. Uh, no. He's the one I hear most stories about, like hitting on a twelve-year-old and trying to get a ten-year-old's number. He just seems really....horny. With anger issues. He tries several times to get my attention. To at least look at him. Mostly because his locker is next to mine and all year I have avoided him like the plague. Yeah, that's right. I haven't said one word to him all year.
Then we have Eddie. A graduate of Player Academy. He's new. He's barely started----but making good progress. Eddie went to the Model UN conference with me and Bonnie. Although he wasn't in our group, we did kind of dance with him at the dance. Well. Bonnie did.
Strange thing about dancing. Whenever I see a guy alone on the dance floor, I instantly feel sorry for him. Ideally I'd go an dance with them but seeing as I lack major security in that area, I usually pull one of my girls and push them to him. So. I pushed Bonnie to Eddie. Now, he turns around making the weirdest face every times he wins on Wii because he knows it cracks the shit out of me.
Then...let's see. I scan over the room and see Olly. Olly is actually Hispanic, but appears Filipino. He's also Bonnie's boyfriend. He's super nice...when he wants to be. The friendliest of the bunch, I have to say. But Bonnie spends a lot of time yelling at him. He's whipped. Right now, he's wrestling Mike and I know I'm not the only one uncomfortable watching this.
And then the only black guy and possibly my best friend in the room: J. He's hyper, funny, strange...and a black skate border. I love him. Just, you know, not in that way.
Scan, scan, scan. I'm forgetting someone, I know...
Oh yes. Three girls I've never talked to.
In truth, I'm perfectly relaxed here. The only thing I really worry about---the only thing I EVER worry about is the questions....There's a point when the energy drinks wear off and everyone can't wrestle, or compete on Wii and everyone just crashes on the couches....That's when the conversations start. And the questions.
My most dreaded reaction is a conversation that will eventually lead to this being thrown at my face:
"You've never had a boyfriend? Or made out? Or ANYTHING?"
Nope. I look like I have, right? I also convinced people I was a pot head without meaning to, when in reality I'm a good girl.
Thankfully I make an excuse to leave when the first signs of dying energy appear. I'm disappointed that I left at nine, but also pretty content with how my night was. It was...tight.

i hate to like them.

Let's start off with what's fact:
I have an obsession with everything Disney, but have recently found myself stalking people stalking Disneyland characters, video taping the stalks and posting them on Youtube. Mhm.
And all the while I can't help thinking of how much I hate and detest the girls who do it.
They walk around all buddy-buddy with the characters playing along, laughing, making jokes...
How I'd like to ring their little heads off.
And yet...
DAMMIT, I like them. I mean as people, they seem like just the right amount of dork mixed with sanity for me to be awesome friends with them. 'They' [I quote because as of now I'm not sure how many there are...so far I can confirm only two.] visit Disneyland EVERY Sunday and stalk my favorite characters.
Especially Peter Pan.
Epic Peter Pan.
A specific guy plays him that catches the attention of many, many girls. And I'm one of them. I practically SWOON every time I see him in a video.
Creepy, right? Wait. There's more.
So out of pure determination to find a reason to hate these girls I search their deviant pages, livejournal, wordpress, whatnot...
They're me.
I can't hate them for their art. They're damn good. I can't hate them for their ability to visit the park every week. I live on the other side of the country, they live fifty miles from the park. I can't hate them for liking the same things I like or for playing along with the characters that I wish to meet or anything.
Because if I did, that would mean admitting that I have no life except cyber-stalking these girls I seriously want to be.
Even if it might be true.





UBERFREAKINSIGH.
This post will most likely be deleted. But I felt like ranting. So there you go.

why you should follow me.

I'm not just any blogger.
I'm THE blogger.
You know, the one that can't make up her mind about what race she looks like.
The neurotic teenager who gives dating advice to unsuspecting [or possibly too nice to mention] friends when she's never had a boyfriend.
The one who recently signed up for Youtube in attempt to find a new way to vent strange thoughts, but all too quickly realized it would take more time that she cared to share.
The art chick in that one documentary about the average American teen.
The one that writes stories, draws, paints, colors, sculpts and likes to pretend she's bad ass because she has an opinion when in reality she's really just a shy, chicken-shit introvert that spends way too much time watching and quoting Communitychannel.
Unique in her own way because she lives in such a small redneck town where she's starting to realize that she's not white and the reason everyone stares at her when she walks in is because they're all wondering if she can speak English.
Yeah. That's right. I'm THAT blogger.
The one you just realized has serious problems and are probably going to stay away from.
God, I suck.
And to my current six followers, if you're still following me that is, thank you!
:]

i'm gonna sound like a conceited bitch for a second...

I have always been afraid of a specific thought that I've always, always, always had. I've been afraid that if I said anything or even thought about it, it would never happen, for it is so fragile and delicate for me that I'm afraid I will jinx my luck and I will die without fulfilling this one great and over-powering desire of mine. Like the title says, I'm about to sound like a very conceited bitch for a second with my following statement:
I am going to be famous and adored some day.
And it's going to be for one of these reasons:

My writing,
My art,
My videos,
My acting,
or my massive movement
that brought tons of people together for a day of peace and faith in humanity
that no one will forget.

I know that these could be easily misinterpreted as things I wish I would be famous for one day. And they might as well be. But I can not deny myself the truth---- I wish to inspire many, many people. Of course it will be a long time before I can 'stumble' upon a huge JK Rowling effect and will have to settle with trying to motivate and inspire just one person at a time.
Now, I wonder.... I wonder if it's true. JK Rowling, Jamie Tworkowski, The Beatles, Stephanie Meyer and other people like Miley Cyrus, or the Jonas brother (just to name a few examples) etc., all have said that they never expected the fame that they have received.
I don't expect it. But I do wish for it.
My main focus has been writing, though. Ever since the third grade I remember writing. And I did it for the same reason that I began to draw---it made me popular.
Perhaps that's why I want to write. Looking for completion, looking for insight. Yes, yes I know I'm only 17 and I have much more to go before I can really see the big picture of life, but...
I like to think of myself as special. Different. Destined to be something great in society. Maybe I think this just to get myself through each day and the fakeness I endure. The circus that is life in high school.
I love the laughing. I love the picture taking. I love the partying, the texting, the social networks and the dating factor...but I search for something so deep and strange that I'm almost completely certain that I'm going to be great.
I mean, I just feel so lonely, like such an oddball----I must be like this for a reason. Well, the way my mind works anyway. On the outside I'm putting up a front like everyone else. Just trying to get by.
What will be of my life when I graduate? Ideally I'd be off to art school somewhere out of state. Fall in love. Be inspired. Write/draw. Become the next JK Rowling in the matter of success and maybe not so much in the way that she is amazing...
But I know, I can feel it.
It's... it's the yearning that I feel. It will not promise me an answer to this question, a filler to this hole, a line for the t, a dot for the i.... but my yearning will keep me going. And for now, that's all I need.

i have a girlfriend. but she doesn't know yet.

I totally hate going out with my next-door-neighbor/best friend. If I were white and we were around the same vicinity when it comes to weight, we could pass off as twins---something I find really annoying.
It was interesting at first to have someone who knew everything you were about to say, someone with similar interest as you, someone you could instantly relate to...
But then it just turned into something extremely boring, like most incredible relationships.
Only recently have I realized why this is though:

we have been dating for a while without even realizing it. (lacking all the physical
affection crap, of course...which might be the only thing defining the fact that
we are still only straight friends).

How did I come about this conclusion? Glad you asked:
As usual she texts me and asks to hit BAM (Books-a-Million for those of you too busy with lives to know what that is...and if you are sooooo busy, why are you reading this? Ohhhh! Gotcha!).
On our way, daylight sneaks away and stars come out as we listen to Owl City.
The car ride is silent. That's OK. We can handle silence.
We walk into BAM like it's a routine of ours...well actually it IS a routine. Sometimes we joke that in a couple of months, the employees will all know our names and totally hate us because we never buy anything and think of BAM as more of a library that you can check books out of with a fee...Someday when we walk up to the doors, they will have a sign addressing us, letting us know that we have been banned.
We take our usual seats over by the comic section, hidden away from people we wouldn't want to see, like, people we know, for example. Piles of books sit between us and time passes by.
I get angst-y. I can't sit still for too long. I want to leave. It's eight. Feels like nine. Gah.
We leave thanks to my whining.
On our route home I realize Owl City, night time, stars out, BAM, comfortable silence...and other night outings, Sonic drive ins, volunteering at the zoo... it's not fair.
I hate going out with my neighbor because they always end up being ideal dates for me. Only the person next to me isn't my dream guy---its my best and annoying friend.
I get agitated when I look over and see her and wonder why I'm not hanging with a guy like this. It would be so fucking wonderful for me.
It would, it would.
I'm not saying I don't like my best friend. I do, but I think we've already established the fact that I'm not a lesbian and even if I joke about it, it's difficult to picture myself being one.
What bothers me most about these outings is that I know that I've found a soul-twin... now I just need to find a soul mate.
You: Haven't we established that you have so much time left in the world to find a soul mate?
Me: Aye, we have. But wouldn't it be amazing if you found yours early in life? I can't help being a little idealistic. It's just who I am.

build your own edward cullen!

It's becoming narrower as we speak. The hole/chance/window of opportunity to be taken is quickly closing in. Soon everyone will have someone to talk about, to be with, to be happy with... and me?
Why, I'll fall back into my hall-glance-romances, of course.

Quick side note. For those of you who don't know what a
hall-glance-romance is, let me tell you: it's when you almost always catch a
certain someone's eye in the hallway and there's a mutual yet strange
understanding that there could have been something between you two even though
you've never spoken a word to each other...

God. I hate those.
But, the question here really is, when is my deadline?
ERRRR. OK, STOP.
YOU: Why do you have a deadline? There is no deadline to get a boyfriend in the real world. That just sounds like a bunch of high school bullshit...
Me: Well, it is indeed high school bullshit, but seeing as I'm still in high school, this is something for me to be concerned about...
Uber sigh.
It's happening. They're all getting taken. My options are falling like birds shot out of the sky. It happens every year, you know? Then the single ones left can't even date each other because the only people left are left for a certain reason. Either they're too shy, too immature, too annoying, or too afraid to even be in a relationship.
Things get annoying when this window of courtship closes and hanging out as friends soon becomes hanging out as couples and a third wheels becomes an awkward turtle.
OK, I know, I know:
You: Dating should not be considered a social test or a new trend. You should date because you like someone and feel comfortable with them.
Me: OK, I see your point. But try telling that to all the super insecure people of the world and see what they feel like. See how much they feel like an outcast and sometimes feel persecuted for not keeping up with this 'trend'. See how it hurts to be left out just because you don't have a 'someone' and how you get ridiculed when you confess to having little to no experience with this sort of thing.
You: ...
Me: Exactly. And in case you still don't understand, here's an example out of many that happened to me through my years at my school::
"So, you, me, and Justin should all go to the fair with our respected partners [that's right, this kid takes himself so seriously that he used respected partners in a sentence]," said Ray to Alisa at the lunch. I knew it was a group date. I knew I wasn't invited. I knew I wouldn't have anyone to go with. I knew I should have kept my mouth shut.
But I didn't.
I just wasn't thinking up to speed with the words propelling out of my mouth.
"The fair?? I want to go to the fair!"
Ray immediately shoots a stare at Alisa that tells me I am definitely NOT invited.
I knew I wasn't. I was just expressing the fact that I wanted to go. I wasn't inviting myself. But he took it that way.
Dammit.
I really need to go to the store and buy me a boyfriend.
A tall one. Not too skinny. Big enough to wrap his arms around me and keep me warm in the cold. Preferably with curly dark hair. Gorgeous blue or green eyes. Athletic...GOSH they should come in catalogs so I can order one custom made.
Ha. Build-Your-Own-Edward-Cullen.
Copyrighted to me, understand?

order of the race rainbow in my house.

I went out of state for the weekend. It was my cousin's Quinceañera----which they celebrated in the Little-Town-of-Nowhere.
It was cute.
Kind of made me regret not having one...except not. I had too many White friends and not enough Hispanics. Damn.
Later, my aunt found a picture of me and J in my camera. Damn x2.
"I saw your picture! I didn't know you liked black guys! Is he your boyfriend?"
Uhhhhhh. My brain is kind of frozen for a second. "Who?"
"The guy! The guy in your picture!"
Oh. Him... Wait. What?
"NO! He's like my best friend!" I spit out. J is like my best friend. Ever since sophomore year. But you know, it's not like I haven't thought about going out with him.
"Oh," my aunt laughs, "and here I was having a mini freak out...I was like 'Oh my god, she's into blacks!'" She proceeds to give me the same talk the rest of the family has already given me about how I should handle my life.
You know the talk, right? Be safe. Focus on the future. Don't go hoe-ing around.

...

Maybe not exactly in that context, but you know what I mean.
So, as she rants about the same thing I've heard millions of times (i.e.: You want your career to be related to art? WHHHATTT? You should be an accountant. They would earn more. ), I sit there and think about how prejudice my family is.
If you were to walk in my shoes for a day, you'd hear them complain about how white and black people are this and that and how Asians are just there on the side-lines.
It's kind of funny, really.
Kind of.
You see, this is how it 'works'(NOTICE THE QUOTE, UNQUOTE) in my household:

1. White people think Hispanics are annoying vermin who come and take jobs away.
2. Hispanics think White people are lazy fat people who complain but are
unwilling to work for it, and the Black people demand respect they haven't even
earned.
3. Black people cause more chaos, steer clear of White people and
get along with Hispanics a little better....and sometimes, they prefer Asians
over Whites.
4. Asians are like the best friends of the Hispanics and
intermediate in the human rainbow of colors. They are also the one's who live
longer. Everyone loves Asians.
5. Others are the other races people forget.
In other words: Other races don't really exist in my household.

My parent's are worried with which part of the rainbow I will choose for life. I am worried about how big...our family will be. We have a lot of family already, you know?

In the end, we're all nuts and it won't matter who I will end up with because I'm pretty sure I'll choose a Jew...
Which apparently is a race all on it's own now. (Oh my god. Ignorant people. Tisk, tisk. What has gone wrong with the world?)
Or I'll turn lesbian if I don't find a him soon.

why diet coke sucks ass.

My love life is kind of like drinking a diet coke.
It's starts off sweet, crisp, and feels good running down your throat (lolWUT?!)...
and then comes the after taste. Ew.
In short, I have none.
I try to pin down the reasons for why I'm a senior in high school and still single. There's no fucking way I'd write it down in class---you'd have to be a complete idiot----so I try to memorize them in my head. They go like this:
1. I'm shy
2. I'm a Hispanic girl who looks Asian but acts like a white chick...
3. I have little to no dating experience
4. I'm always crushing on the one's hardest to get
5. I attract younger kids...ew
6. and I attract old people...ewer
7. I attract short, dark, Mexican men who stand outside their houses leaning on their cars, drinking beer, blasting their radio loud with Banda music and wearing cowboy suits.
EWEST.
8. I'm very nit picky.
In my first period a potential boyfriend sits in front of me and when you slightly analyze it, it seems like a good match. He's taller than me, strong, super intelligent and an army kid. There's potential. But he's not...attractive enough (someone SLAP me...).
In my second period...well. same thing.
Third... he's a junior and pretty much taken.
Fourth: He's got the weird cute/hotness mix. I can not express to you how much I really, really want him. But he's a junior. And a pothead. Among other things.
Fifth: junior. babyface. enough said.
Oh, my. The way things are going I might as well turn lesbian.
But I'm kind of homophobic, so that might not turn out so well...
No offense to gays. It's just that... you know. You're weird.
BUT I LOVE YOU.
Actually, it is true that homosexuality is a strange thing. But then, so are many other things.
Take my friend, (we'll call her alisa) she's my best-friend-but-not-really-because-she's-an-airhead-with-low-morals-and-a-stuck-up-bitch-who-only-uses-me-to-gain-stability-in-her-friends-but-thats-ok-cuz-i-do-that-too. :]
The other day she made a comment about my REAL best friend an-overweight-sweetheart-with-a-big-heart-and-high-morals-with-a-good-head-on-her-shoulders-and-could-one-day-take-on-the-world-alone-if-she-had-enough-confidence-in-herself. We'll call her, Mady.
"I think Mady is a lesbian." Alisa said one day. I was totally thrown off by this. I stared at her for a second until she continued. "Well she only talks to you and Jesi. I've never seen her hang out with any guy before...or flirt with them."
"She's just shy," was all I could say.
I was trying to drop the subject. I didn't want to get onto the fact that I too, have not had a boyfriend my whole high school career.
Have I been asked out? Yes.
Why haven't I gone out with anyone?
As weird as it sounds....I'm kind of scared to.
Damn. I'm such an innocent asian-looking-white-acting-hispanic-senior-in-highschool-17-year-old.
Maybe I should turn lesbian...if you can do that...there must be a sign-up sheet somewhere...
ha.

an introduction. and well. i'm not asian.

He was playing around, like he always does. Our classroom desks formed a circle and we all faced the center. A single chair was there for our teacher to sit in. We were going to play a game. But not yet. The bell hadn't rung yet. I hear him say to the guy next to him, (in a joking tone), "Because you're the only Mexican here, I know I can say this: I HATE Mexicans!"
It was a joke. I thought it was funny, but---I still had to make something clear.
He was sitting across me and making his friends laugh, but I was quick and didn't skip a beat.
"WHAT?" I said.
They all stopped laughing and stared at me. It was the funniest shit I'd seen in a while. The shock in their faces was priceless and the awkward silence... it was like the icing on the cake. I caught them off guard real gooooood.
Suddenly they bust out laughing and our racist sits there staring at me in disbelief.
Finally he says, "I'm so sorry! I thought you were Asian!"
I laughed. It was funny. It made sense. I was used to it.
I've not always been proud of the way I look. I'm still not one hundred percent OK with it, but what teenager is? To this day, however, I like it. I like it a lot. It makes me feel unique.
There's only a good 15% of people who know I'm Hispanic when they first see me. That's not a lot, for those of you who don't know. I'm used to shocking them and speaking fluent Spanish, or giving away hints as to my race. Then they say things like, 'but....you don't have an accent,' and 'you speak perfect English,' or sometimes, 'but you act so white!'
I laugh because I have no reason to get angry. I like it.
But one of my Hispanic friends likes it more than I do. He gets a kick out of telling his friends that I'm not Asian. That I speak fluent Spanish. He makes it awkward. Gah.
The most recent one was a couple of weeks ago. We were sitting in class, he was on one side of the room, I was on another. He called me and asked me a question in Spanish and when I answered, he turned to the dude he was talking to and said:
"SEE?!"
How embarrassing. This dude was kind of shocked. I noticed he had been wondering it for a while, though. For some reason we always caught each other's eye. It was awkward and cute. I would actually feel that there was more to it if I wasn't bias and refused to like a short person.
Yes. This guy-that-didnt-know-i-was-hispanic-till-whatshisface-had-to-prove-it was cute. Cute face. Dresses nice. But he's short.
ER
than
me.
And most people.
God. I swear. THIS is why I have no current boyfriend right now...