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.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

life's restart button, yo.

"If you two don't get boyfriends by time you're freshman at college, I swear..." Jesi trailed off when saying this and Mady and I laugh at it.
We saw it as a joke. But I knew there was some truth to the tone she had used. It's true, Mady has never had a boyfriend. It's true. Neither have I.
The difference is, Mady doesn't seem to have much experience with boys.
And I, pfft. I only beat her by a grain of salt. I have almost little to nothing of experience when it comes to relationship.
Now, let's take flirting. It's definitely different from the word "relationship". When it comes to flirting...I still don't have all that much experience.
But I have some. Unfortunately, flirting doesn't go to far thanks to my immediate frigidness.
Now, why am I frigid? Why am I so cold?
J is always telling me this. Prom night, when I let it slip that I've never had a boyfriend [i was too tired to care and hoped the others were too buzzed to remember...doubt it] he pointed out how he'd come on to me before and I did nothing about it.
And I admitted it with a simple, "Yeah, I know."
Because I did know. I do know.
"Actually, I've hit on you a few times."
"Yeah, I know."
J is honest. I like that about him. And I like him. A lot. I like that he's a black skater who's totally passionate about skating [and like it or not, race plays a factor in this. He said so himself.] His personality is terribly close to mine. We could be movie critiques together. We might share similar beliefs. It's all too easy to talk to him. It's all too easy to have a hilarious time with him. He's a hopeless romantic. As am I. I could probably attempt to deal with him and his heavy emotional baggage if we were in a relationship. Thing is...I don't want to be in a relationship with J.
I'm just...not attracted. It's not even about race as most people would think. I like his personality, he makes me smile and is so sweet and romantic.
"Oh my god, I love your dimples! I love seeing you smile! I could die happy right now just by seeing you smile!" he says to me in the car.
I know I should have responded with something just as sweet. But I couldn't bring myself to.
All I said was, "Awwww. Thanks."
LAME.
Then there was the time where he admitted to falling so low at the beginning of high school that he planned a shooting in his mind. He looked at my horrified face and said, "BUT I'D NEVER HURT YOU! I LOVE YOU!" and kissed my cheek. I went and made fun of how sudden that was.
I feel horrible. I know he's sweet. I know he's nice.
[And before you get the wrong idea, he doesn't like me like that. He's a natural flirt like that.]
What bothers me is that he's just one example. When other boys say similar flattering things, I don't know how to respond. I mean, I love the idea of being complemented and flattered, but I don't. know. how. to. handle. it.
I only just started acted like a semi-normal teenager about a year and a half ago. I came from a secluded, shut off from the social world and on lock down in my own house because of political/parental oppression! And suddenly I seem to have fallen in a world with drinking and pot and people who've had at least three relationships already, hooked up, had sex...have done so much.
And here I am. Trying to make sense of it all.
My parents are separated and my mom is asking for divorce. My dad is starting a new life with a new family. My sister is growing up. I'm heading off to college.
And I'm terribly inexperienced when it comes to what my niche of "friends" have done.
I'm a late fucking bloomer.
Where do I stand? What do I do next? Where do I go?
So far I'm trying to detach myself from certain friends. I'm trying to start over.
My way.
I just kind of wish I knew what my way was.

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