Stupidity doesn't suit you.

Okay, remember back in elementary school when the determining factor for who was your best friend was a sticker from a school apple? Those ones that advertise the farm from which the fruit originated, the ones that you gave to your best friend of the day, week, etc. Fickle we are, at that age especially.

But the thing is, we don't really ever grow out of that--especially girls. Well, at least, not when we reach high school. High school adolescents, for all our talk of independence, our insistence that we are old enough to do insert-here, we still manage to retain a sense of juvenile possessiveness for certain things, like our friends. Oh well, whatever.

There are things that the internet is actually neither the time nor the place to say, surprise surprise.

eg. Nothing to do?

I'm at Johnny's house, and his four friends are here being retarded. They are all relatively dirty looking and at the same time, really hilarious and typical guy-ish. Anyway, there's not much going on, and I think I'm going to read crappy inaccurate tabloids and wonder if I'll ever end up in one.

in the midst of midterm week.

So far, the Spanish midterm is done. One-half of the APC midterm is done. The APW midterm is done. The math midterm is DONE. My next one is English. Blahh. Oh well, that's not until next week, so it's all good.

I went to see 27 Dresses with my mom today. My dad and sister went to see Alvin and the Chipmunks. 27 Dresses was basically like junk food--empty calories, but so good. It was predictable, the plot was easily recognizable, but it was cute anyway. A chick flick for sure, and Katherine Heigl + James Marsden had good chemistry. I think I'm going to get the DVD when it comes out, because it was very Wedding Date-esque, honestly very heartwarming. Speaking of Wedding Date, there's an illegally burned copy of it somewhere in this house, and I suddenly want to find it and watch it.

i started a fire for you... and now the whole world's on fire.

i think.. i do this too easily.


By the way, this is about to be an insecure pointless little vent.


























is this an asian thing?
to move on from one guy, get over it for a while, and then do it again with a different guy? Anyway, i wish people would just tell me straight up why. None of this overrated excuse business. i am chock full of insecurity and i'm like my ANALytical English teacher x 2000 with this stuff. I overthink EVERYTHING. I delve so deep into it that I drown myself in a deep sea of anxiety and what if's and paranoid reasoning. Kind of. I know all of those things people say and how you're not supposed to go looking for it it's supposed to find you, etcetera, but i can't help it. and i know that i've made others feel like this before, in this unrequited position, but it really is very sucky. and i don't know what to make of it, or what to do with this one. another one. there's always one, isn't there? i just wonder what it would like to have it work out, what all the shouting is about, and i really would just like to be part of something like insanely awesome amazing tingly warm cool. that would be fantastic. and i want to feel pretty. i'm so sick of my inferiority complexes with just about everyone and i just can't stand it, i know all about how you're supposed to think you're beautiful so other people can think so too but i don't know how because everything gets to me. absolutely every little comment. i'm so sick of it i want to be the one that exudes confidence, but how can i? there's too many fucking pretty girls and it just heightens competition to impossible to meet levels. idk how to deal. idk how to over come this and i dont know how the fuck i'm going to do good on my midterms. any of them. except maybe like.. english.

WIZARD!

This morning, I went tiara/dress-fitting with Kimmi and her mom. It was very fun, and inspirational. I went home with many ideas and gave my mom a fright because expenses for that kind of thing are bound to be high. Then, went to see Juno. It was really good in a calm way. Like, there was no loud, seat-jumping conflict, but there was subtle drama here and there, and, the best way I can think of to describe it was "artfully pieced together".

Then, we went to Pete's and played True Colors. It wasn't revealing in any sort of scandalous way, just good plain fun. All in all, it was a good night.

i ain't got no crystal ball, i had a million dollars, but...

A certain someone says that they don't care, they just want something. Everyone knows that is definitely the vaguest, least accurate thing you can say. Because just about no one, at least not anyone with a certain amount of self-respect, would ever just settle. If we all just wanted "something", "anything", then it wouldn't be this hard. The truth is, we have this ideal in our minds, and that is the 'something' that we want.

Like you can say that you just want to be in a relationship, you don't care with who. So the next day, you discover someone you've never considered as anything before suddenly likes you. You'll find yourself completely contradicting everything you said just yesterday, and start forming a montage of excuses as to why you can not be with this specific person. Why? Because this person is probably not the one you dreamed up in your mind. That's why.

They do not resemble the image you conjured up in your mind of the person you want to give your affections to, they do not fit in the picture you imagined, so you automatically push them away. But what do we do with those missed opportunities?

Is the next time we face a similar situation, this time on the other end, karma?

And what do we do about those around us who pressure. Pressure. Pressure. Pressure us to be a certain way, like what they want you to, do what they want you to, the hypocrites who demand too much but reciprocate half-heartedly.

I'm very tired. School wears me out--never getting enough sleep.

So, I'm not quite sure what I'm talking about anymore,

but i'm tired of giving up.

calorie induced temporary joy

I always convince myself to eat things I know I'll regret eating later. Always. If I spent even a quarter as much time thinking about chemistry that I do thinking about eating and not eating, I'd probably be a chemical prodigy and recite Lewis structure and gas constants like the alphabet. Too bad. Today, I bought a pretzel that smelled like semen. Then, I had a cookie. Then, I spent the next two periods feeling guilty about eating the cookie. I got home, ate half of a chocolate bar, and felt bad about eating more than one block (it was a Hershey's) like I said I was going to, so I burned it off on the treadmill, only to eat it back during dinner.

And then, some days I'll make a million excuses about why it's okay to indulge. And I'll promise myself to go running so that I'll burn it off. By the way, tread milling isn't as exhilarating of an experience as I thought it would be. It's more just the same thing as running outside, only minus the scenery (that you don't really enjoy anyway because usually I'm either too tired or too into the running part), the feeling of actually getting somewhere, and recently, the numbing sting of wind and cold.

I didn't go to drama. Planned on playing translator for my grandma, but got home too late anyway. The interim principal is a perpetual nagging oppressor. I miss the drunk one. Well, at least this guy isn't threatening to google our myspaces and punish us for things over which they have absolutely no say in.

School is tedious. I need another vacation already. Well, I guess I'll have to adjust my sleeping pattern sooner or later. It's really not good to go to bed at 12 a.m. and wake up 5 hours later. Not that I don't press the snooze button as many times as possible anyway. My circadian rhythms ( a roughly-24-hour cycle in the physiological processes of living beings) are all messed up, probably from sleeping at 4 a.m. and waking up at 1p.m. all the time. They're supposed to work according to the sunlight-- you sleep at night, wake at day. But over breaks, I'm practically nocturnal.

I've been reading Valley of the Dolls. It's really very addicting. Everyone takes pills in the book. Oh, and I gave myself a French manicure--embracing my ethnic stereotypes. It came out better than I expected. Still, some nails dried weird. Speaking of which, the Sally Hansen Insta-Dri Top Coat doesn't exactly "insta-dri" the nail. But it's a good top coat.

I wish everything in school could be typed. I think I would learn so much better, since then I'd actually be able to read my notes. Plus, in the time it took me to type that entire sentence, I probably would've only written down a quarter of it.

I wonder what it would be like if my parents just let me go out all the time without asking for an M.O. all the time.

Boring? Naaaah.

So besides that, progress is at a standstill.

Determination, Motivation, other words that end in 'ation'.

Speaking of ending, this vacation is at it's end.
The school district really should put in better consideration of its students' needs. Such as the fact that the majority, save for the overachievers and whatnot, have probably put whatever work they were assigned to be done at the very last possible moments of the vacation. So, I was thinking, while reading some things, that I've been "blogging" since I was ten. My habit of creating fake cyber-dentities began at the age of 8 when I was still obsessed with Sailor Moon. I bought the book Valley of the Dolls around the same time, maybe a few years later, and am only now reading it for real, instead of the juvenile skimming of pages for interesting bits. The thing is, I have never actually been able to maintain a blog--as in, I'd start one, post in it daily, sometimes more than once a day, and then, a few months later, I'd forget all about it and start another one, always hoping that this time, I'd stick with it.

I'm pretty sure I have at least seven livejournals out there, a bunch of Xangas, plenty of Bloggers, a TypePad account, a Moveable Type, etc. I'm pretty sure I must have registered with every weblog site there is. Oh, and let's not forget Vox. I really should start writing them down someplace. Someplace that no one will find...

Anyway, recently, I embarked on a hunt for these long lost relics of my internet past, and found a number of them. Most of them are filled with emoticons (:) and :-p frequented the jumbled, rambling paragraphs--the rambling part hasn't changed) "lols" and other phrases I have since stopped using in blogs. It's hard to believe that it's been so long, but the archives do not lie. Although most of them aren't exactly things I want other people to read, it's always amusing to read what you wrote in the past. Like when I found my journals from first grade. They would contain words in the first few pages, and quickly submit to my scribbles and drawings, the pages filled with outlines of my palm.

Through the years, a lot more than my writing style has changed. Oh, but to pause on that for a bit. Everyone I ask claims that there is a specific way I type that separates me from everyone else. Something about the way I "talk" on AIM. I don't know what it is, and neither do they. Oh well. So, tonight, coming back from Uncle Y. (dad's side)'s house, I was thinking how instead of becoming more wild, the New Year's Eves have become subsequently quieter with each passing year. I guess it's because everyone's getting older, and to the majority of the parties involved, "older" means a stronger desire for "peace and quiet". Not that I really mind, it's just that I miss the bubbly and the increased loudness (being that my family is never quiet by normal standards) that New Year's usually brings. I guess it's because Johnny's family was away again this year. It's always louder when they're around.

Speaking of, I'm pretty sure there's a blog out there somewhere from a New Year's Eve a couple of years back, also spent at my cousin's house.


In addition, I used to make lists of all my resolutions. I'd have so many, I would fill a page front and back. This year, I'm not sure I have even one. At least, not one that I'm sure I'd be able to actually keep. Oh, there's the usual of course--lose 5-10 pounds, eat healthier, sleep earlier, try harder in school. The latter I might actually try to stick with. There are AP tests with my name on it that I'll need to actually haul ass in order to pass.

What the hell, might as well make a list for tradition's sake:

- The usual (see above)
- Finish Anna Karenina, A Confederacy of Dunces, and other great classics I've put aside in favor of trashy, guilty pleasure reading.
- but never neglect my reputation for reading the dirtiest book in class.
- Stop procrastinating
- .. or at least, decrease procrastinating. No use in quitting cold turkey.
- Just say it. Instead of deliberating in my head for painful seconds about whether or not I should say it, whatever 'it' is.
- but DO think more before saying stuff to parents--
- try to pick less fights; better to stay on good side, of both mom AND dad.


With that, I'm going to end this and go read Valley of the Dolls.

oh, and last one:
Learn how to punctuate titles already.