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.
>:[

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.
Sigh.
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
EVERYONE
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
one.
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
Pokemon.
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. :/

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.
Ugh.
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. :/

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.

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..
TICKLE ATTACK.
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.
Kinda.
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.

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.

dora the explora shouldn't be driving.

For more reasons than one. For example, she's like what, ten...eight? What would ten year olds need to be driving a car for? Also, if she were in situation in which it were alright for her to drive and it actually be legal, another problem would arise:

I'm not even sure how to describe this picture. At first glance, it's humorous to me. At second glance it breaks my heart to little pieces, then shreds those little pieces and pounds those remains until they become chewable and are then chewed, then spit out and pounded some more 'till they become power and are sprinkled on the ground where they're dampened and wet with urine...
So, I grew up in a community which had more white people than any other race until recent years. We've had an American flag held up on our porch until recently (its so old, torn and the color is washed out so it needs to be replaced) and my father has had his citizenship for a few years now and considers himself an American, as he should.
Thing is, I...I can't bring myself to say that I've grown up knowing and living the life of an illegal immigrant because

1. I was born here (This country)
2. I was raised surrounded by southern
white culture

But my parents are your typical story of the struggles of living in this country illegally...something that I am IMMENSELY proud of admitting (I'm so thankful at how far they've gotten and what they've accomplished).
However, I suppose that I can only feel empathy for that side of my heritage seeing as I have been granted the gift of living here without fear of deportation. Yet, that does not keep me from shedding tears along with my mom when the news comes up with more stories about struggling, poverty, discrimination and utter helplessness that comes with living here illegally. Who wouldn't?
I do feel ashamed to say that although I've always wanted to be some sort of activist in getting the world to understand what it's like to risk everything for a country that supposedly offers everything, I've never known how or what to do. This is also because of a couple of reasons:

1. I don't know how to do this effectively
2. I'm not even sure where I stand
in my own beliefs when it comes to the question, "Should we be doing more to
keep them out of the country or be doing more to get them out?"

But now that the Dreaded-Arizona-Law is getting so much closer to us, I reflect on my race and what I think I should be feeling.
I feel dread, for sure. But also confused about why I feel dread. It's not going to affect me and my family...yet it will all the same. It seems to me like stopping someone for their appearance/race is discrimination joining forces with the law, don't you think?
And then I start thinking. And my thinking usually revolves around these kinds of thoughts:

Apparently there are people who think of illegal immigrants as an unwanted
infestation of roaches and ants. It's just a notch above being a Jew. Hmm. Maybe
they should just combine the two and get it over an done with?...Yes, yes.
Get it over and done with. Off to the gas chambers!....oh, wait! No, no,
don't send them to the gas chambers, we're above that. How about
just chaining them up and keeping them as dogs? Yes, that's the more
human thing to do.

Yeah. I have very dry/sarcastic/douche-baggy humor. I suck.

Sigh. Then again, I might not really know what I'm talking about. I'm terribly dense when it comes to these matters. I like to lay in wait until something happens and I'm finally sure about what I've decided.
Unfortunately that takes a while to happen. A while to understand. A while to decide on something.
At least I know one thing, though.

Next time I have poison ready to kill an infestation of bugs, Imma hesitate a bit.