What the HELL is this blog about?

Hi. I consider myself hispanic. I act white. It's something I've learned to live with.
My blogs tell the story of an incredibly awkard, shy, neurotic, hispanic-white-acting, boyfriendless seventeen-year-old trying to fit into the world of being a "normal" teenager.... in a very, very white town.

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

"you have chubby cheeks."

"What do ya got in thur? Walnuts?"
"Ohhhhhh!" cries a junkie. He's right. It was an offense. A great a offense. Strong enough to make me cry.
In fact, I distinctly remember fighting off the urge to cry.
Robert doesn't understand how bad his countrified accented words hit me. He, Bill and Terrance all brought me to the point of tears while they weren't looking. All because of a god damn Kit-Kat bar.
So, I didn't wanna share. What was the problem?
"Huy! I been nice to ya. Why wont you gimme a piece? I haven't called ya Chubby Cheeks in a while."
Bill snickers. Fuck him.
"That's true. But I don't wanna share."
And so he proceeds to insult me. Bill and Terrance kick in.
I sit there and do the same thing that I always do. "I hate you!" I say and bury my face in my arms only look up every once in a while, laughing a little. I'm trying to play along with their jokes like it's nothing. After all, that's what they've done all year. Just teased me.
And I've teased back. A little. Not too much, really. At least I don't think so.
It's just that I seem to talk to these boys easily when they're not being assholes. But when they turn on me and begin to tease...I never know what to do. I don't dare tease them any more. These guys are used to being around rough girls with backbones who will swing their insults away.
I have no backbone. I have no smart ass comments. Not for them anyway. They'd easily swing down anything I say and throw even worse stuff at me.
I'm not used to that. I hate to say that I'm really fucking sensitive...but I am. I really am. Especially about my face and my cheeks.
Yeah, I have big dimples and chubby cheeks, thanks for noticing. Why do you have to be such a dumb ass mother fucking asshole about it?
It hurts. It hurts a lot for someone to point out what you consider one of your WORST imperfections. Especially for someone barely transitioning from UBER SHY INSECURE teen to almost normal.
God, it hurts to be ridiculed and mocked. And feeling so pathetically defenseless when it happens. I think that hurts even worse.

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