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.

Sunday, August 29, 2010

they only come when unplanned.

My mother stared at me while I was looking out the window. I caught her and smiled. She returned it. I wonder if she could sense anything. Mothers are supposed to have extra special powers, you know.
Could she sense how pathetic I felt right then? Remembering the walk downtown and how it was such a perfect night... Running through the fountains. Getting wet. Walking around barefoot, drying off. And the laying on the concrete, looking up at the stars with the skyscrapers surrounding us. The breeze. The people I was with. How calming and peaceful it was.
It's such a bittersweet memory. It only happened weeks ago, yet I feel like it was an eternity ago.
The sadness comes in with the realization that a perfect night like that won't happen for a while. We tried going downtown again. This time Ingrid joined us.
I have nothing against Ingrid. Sort of. In fact I actually idolize her. But then again, who wouldn't? She and I have only just finished our first quarter and already she's taken over as one of the best artists our school has to offer. Yes, including the SENIOR artists. She's that damn good.
Also, people love her. Why?
1. She's petite.
2. She's got scenie-weenie hair.
3. Her style is
scenie-weenie/tomboy with lots of eye liner, colored nail polish, tight graphic
t's, chucks, skinny jeans and cute belts. Pretty much a style that you
could imagine Hot Topic generated before it became mainstream.
4. Her
attitude is perfect with everyone. She can be sweet and cute as can be with
cute sayings and jokes and, even though it gets on my nerves, she speaks
a few words of Japanese in that cute little anime voice and
LOVES HER. But then she can switch onto the
tomboy mode. Think
ninja. Think willing to play along
with everything. Think...juggalo. She used to be
Also, think cute little sister with the boy walk that other boys
would like
to spar with some day. Mhm.
5. She's a furry.
6. Very into
7. EVERYONE LOVES HER. And I hate to love her for
this. Am I jealous? Why yes. Yes I am.
And she gets along fabulously with Sullie. Let me tell you something about Sullie: he. is. adorable.
I want to be his best friend. And no, not because he's gay. Ha. He's not gay. ;]
Point is... I want to get close to this kid for reasons that will probably be explained later on, but... We can't. Because we have nothing in common. Sure it was amazing hanging with Sullie the first time we went downtown but now with Ingrid there. I'm in the back of the group and he's far off ahead of us with Ingrid and they're running around having fun and I feel like a fucking grandma.
SO what is the point of this blog post if all I'm doing is bitching about how I'm jealous of Ingrid? There are three, actually:

1. I am jealous of Ingrid.
2. It just goes to show that perfect and beautiful nights are always best when not planned.
3. There is a part two to this where you will learn more about Sullie and I will elaborate with stuff that's been going on. But you'll have to wait for it. I'm sorry, I have no more time to write. :/

Friday, August 20, 2010

southern lollipop cuteness.

It's Drawing class and we're momentarily on a break from drawing a fucking Kroger bag down to the smallest damn detail when Riley walks in with a huge lollipop and hands it to me.
"I was told to give this to you. I know you know who it's from."
"Oh my goodness, yay! A lollipop!" I'm a little too excited about this candy.
"You do see what's going on here?" Riley asks.
My goofiness is gone for a second and I say in a calm, low voice, "Yes. I know. And I'm trying to block it out of the moment so, just let it slide for now, kthanks."
She won't let it go.
"Oh, come on. Give him a chance. He's a nice guy."
Because I said I wasn't going to give him a chance? But she assumed it and next thing I know, she's coming up with a plan to help me shoot him down and shake him off.
The problem comes in when I think about it: do I really like him?
I love him, for sure. In that "omg that guy is so adorable and funny, he could be my best friend"-way. It's not the same way as I keep being told he likes me.
See... I see romantic potential. But only slightly.
He's a redneck. Nothing wrong with that. He's in culinary. He likes to wrestle and hike and is super sweet and has a bit of that southern charm that draws people to him automatically. But something draws him to me more.
Maybe the "cuteness"?
That's the problem. He's attractive. He's sweet. He's funny. He's awkward [lol, cute]...but I don't think we really have anything in real common except that physical attraction shit.
Meh. It sucks. Hard. Core.
I'm not entirely sure what to do. :/

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

a boy who is a dick moment.

I'd been sketching a guy that I thought was beautiful to me. He was similar to an actual guy that I kept seeing in the hallway and who I felt giddy about.
He's a son of a bitch.
I walk out of the lounge and pass their group. They were clearly having a convo and all look at me as I walk out. This is what I hear as I walk by:
"Oh HELL no!"
"Oh my god, You're so mean."
Two things that bothered me:
1. He apparently considered me scum. Doesn't really bothered me as much as
2. The girl who threw out the "so mean" line...threw out the "so mean" line. This, in case you are unaware, is the pity line.
I despise pity. I hate feeling like a weakling in need of defense from a girl who is only offering it because she feels a bit bad for wanting to or laughing at me.
Humiliating, really.
But the good thing is that it didn't bother me so much. I mean sure, I sat in my next class trying to fight off the tears and knowing that at any second I might burst out in random tears and shaking...
Thankfully the topic for our class was about stress and everything that makes it evident.
1. butterflies
2. shaking
3. mood swings
4. etc.
Our teacher is my reason for not breaking down over one little incident. He told us about his experience during the disaster. It made me feel so much better about what had happened earlier.
Here I was freaking out and wanting to cry because some girl felt bad for me and one really cute guy didn't like me.
My teacher spoke about all his troubles after the disaster and the stresses in his life after, while clearly close to tears...as was I. About to cry with him...FOR him. It wasn't even about me any more. While his story had a general good ending, it was a key element for me to get over my own little crisis.
He said that stress isn't about what causes it: it's how we handle it.
And you know what? I don't need to make a big deal about some gorgeous chick pitying the weird looking girl with big dimples. Pfft. What reason will I GIVE her to pity me? And the guy? Fuck him. I have a line building up of other guys who I already like as friends. All I need is friends right now. That'll keep me happy.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

art school, chucks and perfect flirting.

"That feels good," I say as I feel his fingers squeezing my neck and attempt to hold back a flinch.
It does not feel good at all.
My mind attempted to come out of confusion, to understand if what I'm feeling is relaxing me...or causing me pain---
It's causing me pain.
This guy can't give massages worth a shit. But I'll give him an A for effort.
We sit in the lounge which has two drink machines, a candy machine, a hot chocolate/coffee machine, a plasma screen TV with Wii. Our group sits in one of the middle tables, being the loud and perverted art students that we are. I never felt so comfortable with strangers before.
But...they don't really feel like strangers. I love this about art school.Two guys come sit beside me in a strategy that I've learned quickly about..
They do this to the giggly "noobs" and it's fantastic.
There's a lot of laughter, a lot of perverted jokes...a lot of teenage antics which make me laugh. And I mean really laugh. Not fake-painful-laugh that I've had to endure for most of high school pretending something was funny so I wasn't outcast.
No. Not anymore. I'm tired of feeling the need to pretend. I'm pretty much in college, dammit. And the people here actually seem really, really interested in me. And it's not pity interest because I'm so shy...I'm not really all that shy anymore.
It's not clingy-I-need-a-girlfriend-and-you're-the-only-one-nice-to-me-so-imma-stalk-you interest either. It's genuine interest. Hopefully.
Or maybe cause I'm still kinda new.
Point is: people seem much more accepting. Much more nice. Much more like able than others. And I love it.
-Bzzzzzzz-My phone kept vibrating during class. One text was from Jesi. The other from Bonnie.
I don't know what to do with Bonnie. She's been my friend for six years now and I have absolutely no reason to dislike her...Heck, she was one of the reasons for why I started to leave my shell during high school.
But... her text...her asking me to go get drunk at a party and try weed for the first time is not something I find enjoyable. It's not something I want to do. It's something I've told her I want to do...SOME DAY. As a freaking life experience and not something I want to do just to get it over and done with. I. Don't. Want. That.
And frankly, I just don't want to hang with her anymore.
It's not that I think I'm better than her all of sudden because I have new friends---oh hells to the nah. It's just...we have nothing in common, to be honest.
I always feel like I'm pretending somehow when we hang. Like I'm pretending to be someone else.
And I don't want to anymore. I want to be myself, my own kid. Not a leech in need of care.
She's part of my past. Part of something that I don't want to think about anymore. Part of something that I just want to tie to a balloon someday and let it fly.I don't want to dis her. I just want to move on.

Sunday, August 1, 2010

inception: HOLY SHIT!

I don't want to make this a blog about reviewing books and movies... even though I've gotten close to making it so....I hope that Inception is the only movie I review on here. [i really don't want to make it a review blog.] How can I explain the dream scape that Inception threw me in after watching it? I was in my own "Limbo" for a while, feeling once again like the ground had just been snatched out from under my feet.
My mind is easily influenced, that's for sure. Yet, it's not easily convinced. Does that make sense?
I'm the biggest believer...yet I'm my own biggest skeptic.
The movie suggests [or "incepts"into our minds] that the world we live in may be all just a dream. Who is to say it's not? Who is to declare it reality? What IS reality?
Too many questions arise. Too many doubts.
It really is an interesting movie to watch. So interesting that I felt the need to come on here and tell you all to go watch it. Because I'm lame and I have nothing else I want to talk about.
There are things going in on art school, though. :]
But that shall be a blog for later.

And Mimi: thank you for your response. It means a lot to know that you've thought about this as much as I have. And Mily: Lol. Yeah, your comment confused me a bit but it did make me laugh.