Eight More Days To Go.

Officially, there is eight more days of summer left until my first day of high school. Feelings I have: scared, yet heart breaking, yet hyper, yet fine? I don't know how I'm feeling about high school. Are these feelings normal? I don't think the heart breaking thing is normal though. I think that getting front to front with my ex-boyfriends will be challenging. I think that having twelve weeks away from them or in other words Pizza-Face wasn't enough. I feel like I need more time, or should I face my fears on seeing their faces? It's all confusing. Not to mention even more stress piling up on my plate of...stressness? I don't know another word for a plate piling up with foods of stress.

Today was very mellow I guess. My mom woke me up from sleep saying she was gonna see Scott (her counselor). I went back to sleep then woke up at eleven fifty in the morning. The then dragged my body to the couch and decided to watch some Rupaul's Drag Race and eat my morning feelings. After ten minutes of waking up and trying to find a episode, my mom comes home and boots me off it. I did some chores, took a shower, and yeah...ANYWAYS. My mom has these weird bumps coming out of her chest, arms, face, and I didn't listen to her list of more "bumpess-maximess"? Anyways, her boss thought it was hives so she couldn't go to work today. She then went to the doctor and I was doing my makeup and she came in. She has hive from whatever the hell she has been doing.  I have seriously avoiding her so I don't get what she gets. Also she has been smoking like a chimney for the past month and I find smokers extremely disgusting. Not only because my entire family does it, but I can't imagine them dying...ANYWHO. I took pictures on instagram. Planned my school outfit, AND it was a pretty chill day. Except it's my anniversary with my best friend and we haven't talked in like three days...ten years went down the drain I guess. Maybe this is a rough patch in our relationship. Maybe she'll call me or just tell me I mean something to her IN A FRIEND WAY. I don't know. I guess my stress is already built up causing me to hug my sponge-bob pillow that I have had for seven years...awkward.
   

Groundation: Teenager's Word For "Banish."

So how do I put my day for you yesterday? Oh okay. Me being tired and wanting a nap, thinking I called my mother an idiot, I said it out-loud. Causing me to be grounded for a day without any electronics. I guess it was a reasonable punishment, if I argued with her even more. Don't get me wrong, I love my mom. She bought me a new stereo today without me asking her (probably cause my last one supposedly "broke" when she borrowed it). Though I feel as if she uses the 'groundation' thing like if it were drugs. It's like I'm always in trouble for something. I don't know if I did anything wrong sometimes. My mom and I argue a lot, my friends thinks its unhealthy for us, but I think that makes us closer. My mom and I don't see it, we say we are just to much a like. Hell, I rather be more like her then Adam (other words; the idiot; other words; my father). My mom is like an addict when it comes to grounding me sometimes. It's like I rather be in my room then hearing both of us yelling at each other. I know this seems like a selfish rampage with my opinions about life, but I need to get it out.
Though I feel as though I do have a lot of anger inside of me. Any teen would, but this isn't about hormones and stuff like that. My father is verbally abusive along with his girlfriend and I don't feel safe around him, my step-father killed himself ten months ago, mostly everyone in my family are alcoholics, I have barely any friends, there is a lot more, but let's say I have anger. I don't mean to rub it in your face. "Yeah, I can beat your ass any day of the week man. CAUSE I GOT ANGER!" No, it's not a good thing. You know why? Cause it comes out when I am around the people I love the most, and that doesn't turn out so great.
It's not like I am mad at you. I guess it's the fact that in my head, I think these people will love me even if I am mean to them. But that's not life. I can't let me anger out on people I love...for thou won't dust...love...me...back? Hah...Shakespeare talk...awkward.

Guy+Me=DISASTER.

I know you can tell by the title...you think I'm desperate. I don't consider myself desperate...I mean yeah, I have my flaws. Like...I make really creepy faces in photos that my friends take consisting my tongue sticking out and me forcing a double chin upon my...one chin? See for yourself: You wanna know the embarrassing part about this photo? My mom took it AND posted it on her instagram and Facebook. I should stop making the face like forever and save myself from humiliation, but I can honestly say that when people ask to take a picture of me, I smile and then they look at me like "Do the face!"...it doesn't make me feel good believe me.

Though we are not here to talk about my face, that is not the topic. The topic is just me with relationships. I am though an awkward person, I do get jealous of people who have relationships. Well, I mean. I guess when I had my first boyfriend in sixth grade, it was like take a shot of herion. Everybody knows who you are when your in a committed relationship, even if it was like an awkward...first...time....needless to say. You don't even have to kiss the guy in order to be popular. You just need know that when you walk down the halls at middle school with your "boy-toy" holding you around his arms, people notice. Then, it just doesn't work after that. People don't notice you. You go down the halls and you are no longer the queen around the king's arms. You are literally Anne Boleyn's severed head. Your useless. No offense, but I mean, I know people would pay thousands maybe millions for Anne's head but...no one did back then. She was back then useless...like me.

I guess you can say I am a recovering addict, I mean with relationships. It's not like I will date anybody, but if I see someone cute or I have liked them forever or whatever, I have to make them like me and date me! It's seriously disturbing. I don't admit it rarely, but it's the absolute truth. I will seriously pulled strings for them. I mean...how do I put this. Well, I try to friend-zone my crushes for a while. Hell, for my last boyfriend, friend-zoning him was just chatting with him on Facebook asking if he will be my husband. He said yes if your wondering. I don't know, I guess I then pull all the strings I have to do until they feel an intimate connection towards me. TO be frank, I am not a slut. Seriously! I know it seems like I am but I don't think a there for slut wears glasses and has braces...and also is wearing a Rolling Stones sweater with plaid pajama pants...let's be honest, it's my favorite thing to wear around my house. Those are my lazy clothes. I am though not a slut; but a prepster...is that worse?...nah.

But maybe if you got the time to know me...you'll like me. I feel as if I meet a guy who is cute and so called "the-one", I have change for this guy. I'm tired of changing. I don't want to be someone is not who they are. Just like the girls at my school, they wear these tight-ass dresses and literally paint themselves orange and wear their eyeliner all the way up to their ears. They wear huchy lipstick and they look fake. FAKE. I'm sorry if you are like this, but do you like wearing this? I'm sorry, but you look like the little girls on Toddlers and Tiaras. Is that you? Do guys really like it? They might say they do because they fantasize about having interactions with J-Woww and Snooki in their spare time, but they know you, therefore they don't like this. I feel as if someone from my school who does this will read this and pick on me the next day...hey...gurl...you look...nice.

As you can see, I'm a recovering relationship addict with so much baggage. Hope someone will deal with me. Thumbs up for safety.

Let's Take Things Slow.

Well since I have been on a writing binge for the past six months of my life, It's like if my hands are not on a keyboard or I have a pen and notebook in my hands, I will look like a tweaker. I guess I don't want to pursue writing in the distant future, cause I am not the best writer of our time, I just thinking writing and typing it all out into the world makes me feel like I am actually something and not just...awkward. I guess writing fan fiction in my room at one am wasn't enough for me...yes, I write fan-fic when I'm bored. Not like it's a bad thing, I am not writing sexual fan fiction or anything. I am not talking about my characters like on a sex-drive, I guess in a way this sexual reference is like they are mouth raping each other or something. I am single. And once I get a boyfriend, I hope to keep my writing life a secret so he won't find me creepy even though this is a coping with the feelings I have and I need to take them out on the world somehow...let's just keep this a secret how about that?
But I mean, I love to write. Writing helps me calm down. I like writing about people, my opinions, and what happened in my day...cause no one else listens?
But if I am gonna commit to this blog and the readers, I can't just list everything on my mind and in my life (well I can but I just don't choose too). So after a couple more posts, I mean if I like the feel of it, then I can commit about my life and stuff and I can express my opinions. Alright? Alright...

The Young, Reckless, and Slaved.

As of today, there is eleven more days until my first day of high school. That's ten days, eighteen hours, and five minutes. That's 260 hours and the extra five minutes are just there to scare you and it's there to tell you that you need to wake up because "this shit is real." My middle school experience wasn't the best time of my laugh. Sure, I had my serious boyfriend in the eighth grade, but surprisingly, that actually didn't last as long as I thought it would. I was always the laughing-stock. Hell, when I was in seventh grade, my best friend Lilly and her ex-boyfriend Noah left me in an elevator, so technically I was in an elevator all alone. You wanna hear the best part? The elevator was jammed. Yep, so I was in an elevator that was jammed and stuck there for twenty minutes until someone came and got me. I was an easy target too. Sure, this sometimes still goes. I mean, in sixth grade I had natural dirty blonde hair and shopped all my clothes at Goodwill and Buffalo Exchange and I was stuck in a 32A bra with cartoon animals on them, not to mention my underwear had days of the weak on them. The transition from sixth grade me to 7th grade me was I guess to much to handle. I had to get glasses in the middle of 6th grade because I could barely see the board from the back of the room, but since I never wore them at all because towards my twelve birthday, I realize what being hip was (or so I thought), my eye-sight got far more worse, causing me having to wear my glasses 24/7. Not to mention my hair in the seventh grade.

My dad has been dating a hair-dresser for almost three years. Needless to say, she does my hair when I visit him. When I was almost thirteen, I wanted my hair brown with a hint of blonde. Being her, she told me I needed to have my hair brown with just two streaks of blonde on each side, I went along with it. At school before this "experiment", people would call me a raccoon because I literally took liquid eye-liner and put it all over my eyes. It would get it all up on my eyelids, all over the base of the eyes. Needless to say, I was a raccoon. SO thinking this hair would look totally cool, no one bared to mention how much I would get teased at school for looking more like a raccoon. Get the drift:  You can see how much I struggled right? Not to mention how I look now, and as of now, I struggle and am so awkward around new people-let's say that I don't struggle as much as I did back then. I mean look at me. I look like a sad panda. Yes I know what your thinking, I do dwell on the past. Doing this makes me feel better. Sometimes I think that I have grown since I was in the fifth grade. I want to tell my future kids someday, "Sweetie, struggling is okay. That's life. Just don't struggle like your mom did." Yep, I know what your thinking, future parent of the century.

I guess I should be nervous for high school. I don't really understand why I am not as nervous as I thought I would be nervous in the beginning of the summer because I thought I would be so nervous but really-...but really I am a nervous train-wreck. Though I should really thank my mom for putting me in Summer Bridge. Don't know what it is? Upcoming Freshmen, thinking of taking something like this? Wanna "get prepared" for high school in the summer? One word: DON'T. If they say it is not like school at all and it's a fun little thing? Hun. It's school. Yes you get to know the school, but you have to do these labs and learn all this stuff that you already knew but it was stuck in your head until the first day of school and your like, "Oh, I remember that." I guess that's great in a way, but when you have to wake up at seven thirty in the morning...in July? I guess we then have a problem. I guess the biggest issue are your parents lying to you about this stupid three week course. Yeah, three weeks! Your parents will tell you it's fun, and guilt trip you. You realize parents are the ultimate guilt trippers? No, well they are. So here I was, thinking I would have fun until I almost shit my pants going into the front door of my new high school.

Well some positive things is that um...well...that's a little tough, but I'll try; I learned my two story high school like the back of my hand. I was there with my two best friends; Jackie and Lilly. Lastly...summer was just a restful one. And I have really changed in the past three years and I am ready to start a new chapter of my life. Cause these years will be with me forever...let's live while were young right?!...another thing about me, I never know the right things to say...well this is awkward.