exoctic tea parties, perverts, sex, and highlighters.

I couldn't imagine fufilling the expression "Keep your friends close but your enemy closer" any more than I am now without actually doing some physical harm to make it even MORE true. If any of that makes sense.

I can't tell if I'm feeling disgusted right now because it's morning and I haven't eaten yet or because of what happened last night. I think it's a little bit of both.
So last night after another night of wandering the city and asking myself why I continously invite people that I KNOW will bother me, we went back to Ingrid's dorm and played the game "Pervert" in which you confess what you've done and therefore move closer and closer to the middle of the board labeled "Pervert" and if you get there first, well, you win. I was totally ready to lose.
Surprisingly I didn't. :O Which, if you've played this game [totally bought in a porn store that we checked out while roaming downtown] you would know that this means you've at least experienced SOMETHING. And one again: I...don't really think I have. Unless I've had like an outer body experience or something.
And because my mind is strange in so many ways, all I could compare it was an "exotic" tea party [though there was no tea], later to be followed by drawing on each other with highlighter under a black light.
ANYHOO. The learning new things about people [like the fact that most were totally not virgins and maybe only three of us actually were [[there were twelve of us]], or that Victoria had a hell of a lot more sexual experience than most of us, or that the cutesy Ingrid wasn't so innocent at all, or the fact that Sullie really IS a sort of sexual deviant as I had suspected before] wasn't as bad as having to deal with Victoria.
She's my frenemie. She might already know this, she might not. IDK and IDGAS.
She's the type of girll who will definitely defend her friends till that end and this I admire most about her. She's loyal and loving and sweet and adorable...but she's also an attenion seeker.
Not to say that I'm not, but her personality being so dominating seems to always be pushing me away from the lime light which always reached ME first [after Ingrid of course, because DUH, Ingrid is the best. Semi sarcasm there, but mostly truth...and that's what's sad about it.] and so she MUST have it.
For example: Sullie departed from the group, sat alone and I went to talk to him. She came running up saying, "Oh, Sullie! Don't be alones!" And her ginourmous boobs totally threw me quite a few feet away from both of them. Literally. No joke. I was close to giving him a hug and then here she comes and shoves me away. With. Her. Boobs.
Kind of like what she did with Audrey [without the boobs]. She started flirting with him and grabbing his attention as much as she could after we had kind of hit it off [as friends].
But the thing that bothered me most was when it came to Sullie.
Actually, I think I should just dedicate a whole post to Sullie. But it might be too late for that.
Let me explain about Sullie:

He's twenty-one.
He's thin.
He looks like Shaggy off of Scooby Doo.
He looks eighteen and LOOKS/ACTS innocent but is actually a total shaggster. This adds to his appeal for some reason.
And I like him. I do. A lot.
But ever since day one I've been able to show everyone how much I like them. Except him. For some reason or another. Maybe because he was intimidating in that "Shit, he keeps catching my glances" way.
Grr.
It's strange how my feelings work for him. It's like when we're around a group of people and their attention is away from him and I totally have a chance get closer to him, I throw it away. And when we're alone, I throw it away. He just seems like the goofy type when we're alone together and like a literal teddy bear that I can't imagine doing anything with except hugging the life out of him. But then. Later on. When he's in the spot light and he's making funnies and when I notice other girls noticing that "Hey, this kid may be a but goofy...but I'm totally attracted to him." That's when the flames come out [not that I do shit about it].

All I'm doing is pissing myself off. I'm making myself uber jealous and with a great need and want to take him away to a far away corner where I can have him all to myself [even if we never do anything] on ONE DAY...and the next, when I really DO get that chance...I don't care for it. At. All.
WHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHYYYYYYY???!!
I'm so fucking pissed about this. I don't understand myself. And everyday I look forward to seeing him hoping that when I do, something in my mind will click and explain to me why I feel this way. I mean, I wish that once and for all I will either BE OVER HIS ADORABLENESS/sweetness/cute eyes/clear-need-of-a-lot-of-glomps-from-me OR that I will finally get that butterfly, light hearted feeling I used to get when I looked at Paul and KNEW, just really KNEW that no matter what I'd always want him whether we were alone or in a room with large people [Cheesy as hell? I knows].
ANYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYWAY.
What sucks is that I don't think Sullie will be at school today. I doubt he has classes.
Fucking SHIT.
>:[

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.

my college geometry teacher is boho. [first day of art school]

[Disclaimer: no pictures are mine.]

It's amusing as I walk in to see that my teacher must be around his late twenties/early thirties and has an absolute boho look. I can tell you that from the second I saw him, I knew he'd be one of my favorites.
He wore a light blue polo that FIT, plaid skinny jeans, he had curly sandy hair and a braid headband on.
Freakin' awesome.His physical appearance is not really close to this, but his personality seems to be able to relate to this...kinda. Only without the suit underneath. Replace it with a polo and imagine him as a guy that has to have done weed at some point in his life.
Our geometry class consists of eight people today. Incredibly weird...especially after twelve years of being in a crammed class room and extra students trying to find empty chairs and bring in new desks from other rooms.I've already committed my first "Freshman" crime in which I went to the bookstore to ask where my class was...No one showed me the other side of the building before! D:
Oh wells. I liked my awkwardness. It's quirky, I guess---- and I tend to get on people's good side with it...most of the time.
So, after that: the two hours to blow off between classes began. Thing is, my friend Danielle and I live forty five minutes away from school and since we're not complete idiots, we decide to save our gas and sit outside and eat.
Our Geo Teach came out to have a smoke, attempted to make small talk, [I believe] and then continued to smoke his cigarette in silence. And after that he left.
I should have said something. I should have not been silent... but, oh well. For some reason this doesn't bother me as much as it would of a few months ago. (I think I'm progressing?? :D)
Danielle came back from the bookstore with a sketch pad like a total art nerd that she is and lent me a piece of paper for me to begin as well.
It was nice. I liked it.
Only a couple of minutes later, however, we moved into the student lounge after we realize we're going to melt in the heat. [stupid hot, dense, over-bearing weather]
And then came the disappointment.
Our teacher for our next class was MIA [nerd-speak for missing-in-action].
With nowhere to be found, Danielle and I resorted to our quiet selves and doodled away, listening in as a loud group of kids talked about everything that I hate about the Internet.
Example? E n c y c l o p e d i a d r a m a t i c a.
*Cringe*.
Needless to say that this class lacked the enthusiasm and warmth I felt in my geometry class. And the teacher. Who never showed.
Sooooo, after waiting for about forty-five minutes someone finally came in and took roll. After that we were allowed to leave early.
Jesus Christ. I hope my first impression of this class is wrong. I hope it is soooooooo wrong.
Tomorrow more classes await me, more people to meet. I really hope I DON'T meet people that remind me of the ones I left behind in high school.
I meant technically my school is more of an art school than a college.
But still. It's not supposed to be high school all over again.
Pretty sure I'd die if it was.

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!
:]