Monday, December 27, 2010


For the past few months, I have grown to realize that I really am the only family that I have.

I've never really had a normal life as far as my family is concerned. When I was around 4, I remember my dad kicking my mom out of the house. I remember sitting at the top of the stairs as my dad yelled at my mother, and she left for good. As the door shut, I ran to the porch, just to get one last look. I felt like my life had ended.

My parents had broken up since my dad had put the pieces of the puzzle together, and realized that my sister, wasn't my sister at all. My mother was notorious for meeting strangers, and handing out her phone number. Afterwards, when someone would call, she would claim that she didn't remember giving them the number. This should come to no surprise, since she had a brain aneurysm at 18, and was left with severe short-term memory loss.

My dad knew that my mother was seeing another man, or at least he had a hunch. And after they had their third child he had gotten verification. As my sister got older, my dad realized that she was quite tall, and she had blond hair. My dad is 5'9" and my mom is 5'5". Both of them have black hair also. It didn't make sense. My dad knew who the other man was now.

My dad had had a paternity test done. He was not the father. This led to their separation. My mom left her two sons for her new man. And my dad had just raised a child for 3 years, and come to find out, it wasn't even his.

I had visited her on weekends for a long time, since my dad knew how much I loved my mom. He knew that I was her favorite, despite her leaving me. I remember she would call me all the time. And since she had such terrible memory loss, she would call me A LOT, because she would forget that we just spoke on the phone a few hours ago. Knowing that I was on her mind often, made me feel better about her not living with me.

After a while though, my mom and my sister's father, as well as my sister moved into a house after living in apartments for years. My mom's fiancée had accused me from stealing from his home when I was around 10. After that he prohibited my mother from talking to me. I never heard from her again. It wasn't for quite some time until this really began to sink in.

The next year a friend's mother had proposed that I move in with her. Now, I know that she didn't just ask me, and see if I would do it. I know my dad had asked her if she would. And the thing is that no one has ever told me that, even though I'm smart enough to figure it out.

After moving out with family friends I realized that my dad gave me up. My dad didn't care about the past 11 years. The only thing he cared about was living his life the way HE wanted. I was a great child. I can only remember a small handful of times where I really made him mad.

But my disobedient older brother was the one he decided to keep. He decided to give up the perfect child who was destined for the stars. I bet it was for one of those stupid reasons like he just wanted the best for me. Honestly, his life has been a downward spiral since I left, and it's unfortunate.

As far as I'm concerned though--I don't have a family. I just have me, myself and I. That is all I will ever need. I'm not going to allow the poor life decisions of other people define me.

If people weren't pulling me in 8 million different directions, it would be easier for me to truly convince myself that I only need myself. As for right now, I couldn't feel more alone.

I can't wait for someone to come along and remind me of what it's like to feel alive.

Thursday, December 23, 2010


It was a typical summer day. The sun was shining, and there was a slight breeze. At the time I was 8 years old.

As a child, my dad let me go anywhere, alone. I decided I was going to go the public park about 6 blocks down the road. I walked since the bike I had last summer had broken. Like any other visit to the park I immediately sat on a swing. I began to go as high as I could go, feeling the wind in my face, and listening to the sound of the swing creeking. For one reason or another after I got tired of that, I'd always find myself just sitting there on the swing, hardly swinging or not swinging at all reflecting on my thoughts.

It wasn't that I was racist or anything, but whenever I saw black people I had always stared a lot. It was strange to me, and I didn't quite grasp it. I went to a Roman-Catholic Elementary School, therefore, black people were foreign to my culture. Not only that, mentally handicapped people were obscure in my mind. I just couldn't comprehend why they couldn't act like 'normal people.'

I sat on the swing, thinking and rocking. Walking down the path, toward my location, I could see two black boys. Thet appeared to be larger, and older than me. I stared a little, and tried to act as innocent as possible, since I was kind of terrified of black people. As they got closer, I must have been laughing to myself, in between staring (which I didn't realize that I did, until now). The kid came over to me, with his friend behind him.

I began to get incredibly nervous. I was just unsure of how to act, how to portray myself. The kid piped up in a slurred, almost uneducated voice, "You making fun of my brother?" He had a serious attitude problem. I treated him with respect, since that was how I was taught to act no matter what the circumstances.

I replied with, "No, I wasn't. I don't even know your brother."

I was thinking that this all must have been a misunderstanding until he said, "My brother is mentally handicapped. It ain't right that you're makin' fun of him."

In my head I remember thinking that this kid had to be retarded. His yellowish eyes looked in two different directions. In my memory, he was slightly hunched over, and seemed to be drooling, with his mouth hung open like a barbarian. He even had an irregular breathing pattern that only seemed to be noticeable due to the peculiar weezing noise he made.

Now in fear, after taking my first good look at his brother I said, "I wasn't making fun of him. I'm sorry if you thought I was. I didn't even notice." Those were just about my exact words. Since I was genuine, but clearly appeared to be kissing ass, he wasn't happy and left with his brother.

At this time, more fear had set in and I waited a normal amount of time, and then started on my way home, where I knew I would be safe.

I was within 2 blocks of my house and had just crossed the street to the side which my house was on. I had turned with complete paranoia to find that him and his brother, were riding on bikes behind me in the street. For the next block, I told myself that they were just passing me. Before I knew it, they were completely caught up with me.

Without even thinking about it, I had opened my mouth. "My house is right up over here, so you can stop following me," I piped up. In the scariest cluster of disoriented seconds in my entire life, he had come up behind me, jumping the curb with his bike, silent.

I had frozen. He was close to me, looking me in the eyes. His eyes were similar to his brother in the fact that they were yellow. This extra dark completion only enhanced the yellow which glowed from his scleras. He said in an aggressive voice, "What did you say?"

Stammering, I attempted to mutter the words once again. I was unsuccessful. He drew his arm back, and before I knew it, he had punched me in the face. Like a sling shot, his hand drew back slow, but it retracted with multiple times the force. He had hit me on the left side of my face. He had knocked me to the ground. He quickly left on his bike.

It was my teeth more than anything else that hurt. Yes, my cheek and jaw were throbbing also. I had ran the last 20 yards or so to my house crying, and wanting to die. I thought, how could I have had allowed something like this to happen? I had a revolting taste in my mouth, and could feel bits on my tongue. In time I had realized that two of my teeth were chipped in the event. Not many can say that they know the bitter taste of bone marrow, but I can.

I have been looking forward to getting my braces off for years. I've always plotted how I could go about exposing them for the first time since I got braces. When I get them off in a few months I'll be excited but when I smile in the mirror I will still hate my smile. I don't know if I'll ever be able to overlook the chips and love my smile after my braces are removed. As far as I know, almost 5 years of braces will be worth nothing because I will still hate my smile.

No, Lady Gaga, I will not show you my teeth.

Friday, December 17, 2010


Upon filling out applications for college I thought about the varieties of applications that exist in our world. We have those that are crucial and those which may be considered unofficial.

I suppose that college applications fall under the category of those which are crucial. In college applications not only do you need to accurately and properly fill out information, but you need to effectively represent yourself and set yourself apart from the masses. I wrote my college essay while pulling an all nighter. I was on my 4th cup of coffee, and it was around 4AM. I write my best when I am under pressure and need to make a lasting impression. On Monday, I will hand in all of the necessary forms, as well as my essay to be sent to colleges. I wrote down my information confidently, and I will hand it in the same way.

Second would be the job application. When I applied to GAP Outlet, I did it as if I knew I were the best candidate. Like the college application, this falls under the category of crucial. I felt similar when I wrote up my resume. I just had to make sure that I impressed myself. Who is going to take a chance on you if you don't take a chance on yourself.

And yet another form of an application that I've had experience are those which involve the government. In order to do anything in the court system, an application must be filled out. In order to get any kind of specific reissuing of a document, you need to have the correct application. This brings me to the importance of filling out the correct application. If you need to apply for something, take your time, writing down your information may be time consuming, and needs to be taken seriously. I take these kinds of applications very seriously. Although our government may seem like a joke, when it comes to dealing with you, the citizen, they do not have any time to fool around.

And lastly, we have the only form of an unofficial application which seems to have become extinct. Years ago, before MySpace died, there was such a thing as a "Boyfriend (or Girlfriend) Application." At the time, you would post a blog, that would be visible on your profile. The title would say "Boyfriend Application," or whatever based upon your sexual orientation. This would be something that you would compose. It would be a specific variety of Yes/No questions, and short answers, based upon what you were looking for. When it came to filling out these applications, it was done with care and time.

This application was one that seemed to be a conglomerate of the other three applications. The task was to represent yourself in the best light possible. The position would be becoming this megahottie's boyfriend or girlfriend. The documentation would be the little piece on your profile that said In A Relationship, and linking the person's picture in your heroes section, and saying how much you love them.

Paper work is exactly what it sounds like: your work, on paper. It's as simple as that. It doesn't take quick wit, and beauty to make yourself known in this sector of life. All it takes is a pen and a dream.

Friday, November 26, 2010


As you may or may not know, my birthday was November 23rd. Snooki's birthday happens to be the same day. Miley Cyrus' happens to be the same day and year.

This year is a milestone for me. I turned 18. While there are many amazing, life-changing things (or so people say), about this age, is seems like I could care less about them. Now I can drive after 9, I've been doing that since I started driving. I can buy my own cigarettes, finally, but I've been smoking for a year. I didn't buy lottery tickets, or porn, or go to a club (Outrage doesn't count since you just need to know the right people to get in there).

On my birthday I had a field trip to go New York City, to go to art museums. It was great, I love New York City.

I looked like a tranny, but let me tell you, there wasn't a single man who didn't check me out. I was the center of attention. I was the ring-leader to the fashion circus, that is New York City.

I spent most of the day with Elizabeth and her brother, Victor. This was slightly unexpected since Marilyn was on the trip, but she had other friends on the trip, and she knows how hard I've been crushing on Victor for the past few years. Elizabeth has an appreciation for fashion like me, she wore 5" heels to New York, even though she knew we'd be doing lots of walking. I appreciate that, since I looked hot as shit.

We had a lovely time, we bonded like never before. I'm glad to see that I have someone at my own school, who has an appreciation for similar things--and lives by it. She's like the Regina George of my school. And although I may be male, I'm like the Cady Heron. The difference in this story is that we work together to be powerful, instead of feeding off of each other's power in order to get ahead.

Her brother makes me speechless. In terms of me being Cady, he is my Aaron Samuels. I obsess over every little conversation, every little notion, every little glance, every haircut. When he smiles, I melt. When he talks to me, I get tongue tied, and insult him like a 6-year-old girl. There is one small detail though. He isn't officially out. Everyone questions his sexuality, all of his friends are girls, and his best friend agrees that he flirts with me, frequently, and hard.

In all honesty, I feel like Elizabeth and him have spoken about me, and she know. He flirts the same in front of her. She lets it happen. She even seems to encourage it, when I make jokes at him about liking me, which never fails in making him red, and flustered. I had just hoped he would tell me he liked me, since it was my birthday.

I'm a sucker for that corny shit.

In the end, it was a great day, Aneta got me a brand new Timex, which is exclusively sold at J. Crew. It's valued at $150. She remembered how much I wanted it, and I haven't thought about it in ages! She did good, I couldn't have had asked for a better gift.

Although Burlesque didn't come out at midnight, it was great since I finally got my phone replaced.

My teenage years are approaching their end. Let's see what else this age has to offer. Unfortunately, I don't think it's companionship.

Monday, November 15, 2010

No Phone; No Life

Coming from your typical, media-obsessed, texting-addicted, teenager, it should come to no surprise that losing my phone has broken my life, and has made my life almost impossible to live.

I had the day off, this passed Friday. I decided I would take a trip to Amsterdam, to go see Ronnie. We had went to Outrage, and before going inside I had switched jackets. I had thought nothing of this until we had gotten inside and I realized I didn't have my phone on me. Once again, I thought nothing of if and figured it was in my car, and I carelessly left it there. Leaving Outrage, and getting in the car, we had searched like crazy, for my phone. Neither him nor I found my phone.

On a quick side note, I did not go see Ronnie, because we wanted to get back together. We hung out because we were both wicked horny, and wanted someone to grind on and make-out with. His kissing hasn't improved...


When I had gotten home, I tried to tray calm and collected about losing my phone, so Aneta and King Arthur wouldn't tease me about my reaction (although, I'm sure they're find something else to tease me about).

The next day, Charles' birthday (which he decided to get a hideous tattoo for), Charles informed me that Aneta was furious about the fact that I went to Outrage, then drove home. Um, hello?! I didn't drive until like 4 hours after. Allegedly, "it was obvious, that I wasn't able to drive." Are you kidding me really? But this pussy ass bitch didn't wanna mention it in front of Kind Arthur, so I brought it up for her.

They were both against me, and I didn't even hide that I went too Outrage. They both told me how unsafe it was, and asked me to promise to never do it again (even though I never did it in the first place).

Aneta always complains that everyone thinks she's dumb, and uninformed... but the thing is, she is. She opens her fat mouth before thinking, and just goes off of her gut, which completely lacks proof, logic, and common sense.

The past three days I have felt lost. I haven't really been sure what to do with myself, and I think I might actually study or something completely lame along those lines.

Aneta just said dinner is ready, she made one of my favorites because she knows I'm the Queen of grudges. She now knows that I'm a winner, and she knows that I can't be beat. She realized she was wrong, and since she won't admit it, it appears that she's kissing my ass after I got in trouble with her.

I'm just thankful that I lack a gut to go by.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Public Speaking

In my Public Speaking class, we generally give a speech every week or two. The first topic we wrote about have to either be a personal experience or pet peeve. Of course I chose pet peeve, since most people chose to write about a personal experience.

In this speech, I wrote about some fashion faux pas which perturbed me. I wrote about three particular items, for a good reason.

The first of the three included overalls, I do not like how they provide no shape, and make one look like a sack. The second would be over destroyed denim, I don't like how sloppy and unintentional they look. Buying and making distressed denim are very different. The third would be crocs, and I'm not even explaining this one since they're clearly disgusting.

In the end I told about how I had met a woman at GAP, and she was in all three of these items. I judged her and didn't even want to talk to her, I continued with saying that she turned out to be very sweet. In the end I wrapped up with the fact that, I shouldn't judge what people wear.

The next day I was informed by Elizabeth, that everyone was offended my my speech, despite all the laughter in the room. They're a bunch of country bumkins anyways. They know nothing about fashion, and wear the same outfits every week. They're so unoriginal, and boring. Needless to say, when I spoke with my teacher about this, and she agreed with all of those assholes.

The next speech had to be a speech to entrain. I was really nervous since I knew I would be judged before even opening my mouth. I wrote about Senioritis, which I knew we all could relate to... tons of laughter, and great smiles. I succeeded, I got a much better response than before, but a similar grade of an 88, like the last one.

Thirdly, we had a demonstration speech. I skipped out on this one since I had Senioritis. haha, This speech, fucking sucked.

And tomorrow I have to give my fourth speech, A Book Report. I have no idea how a book report could be a speech, but I'm gonna do it. I looked up a book on SparkNotes, The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison. My speech is done, and I didn't even read the book. But she said she wanted the book in class, so I had to waste $15 on this PAPERBACK book. wtf.

I don't read, but I may end up reading this to get my money's worth. It's about a beauty struggle essentially, so it totally fits me, perhaps I'll enjoy it.

The other day I really wanted to possess blue eyes, since I feel like I could be prettier with them... and that's exactly how Precola, the main character feels.

Turns out, that a class I've spent all year hating, finally has something good coming out of it.

Friday, October 29, 2010

Prince & Trick

Last weekend, was similar to most. But just two small things made it a little more than average.

A week ago, today, I had gone to GAP to pick up my check, and headed straight to the bank after. My bank is open until 8PM, so I had all the time in the world before I had to be there. Around 7:30, then I arrived, the parking lot was packed. This was mostly due to the fact that there is a grocery store next door.

As I got out of my car, which was parked in the third-to-last spot, I strutted myself down the deserted parking lot. I was wearing a silver and black sequin vest, my hair and makeup were picture perfect. Usually, this goes unnoticed.

As I was halfway through the parking lot, I saw a beautiful man, in skinny jeans, combat boots, and a black peacoat walk out of the bank. He had a perfectly buzzed head, and was around the same height as me. As I got closer to him, I noticed he gave me the up-down. I would catch his eye, and turn as if I didn't notice (bashfully). As he walked past me, he turned his head and looked at me and in a sexy, whisper-type voice said, "damnnn!" I smirked, and shook my ass just a tad more.

As I was about to enter the bank, I hear him whistle, and holler, "SEXY!" I looked back at him, Trick, and he was standing in the parking lot as if he wanted me to go back. I just winked, and went into the back. Mostly everyone says I should have gotten his number.

Was it wrong of me not to get picked up in a parking lot, at night, by an older man?

On Sunday, I had a lovely 7 hour shift at GAP. As usual I went on my break, got some subway, and ate alone. It was nothing out of the ordinary. I finished eating, and decided to go have a cigarette outside of the food court and break tradition. As I walked past, some tables, I hear a girl say "Heyy!" She was blond, tan, and had pink streaks in her hair. The boy she was sitting with was all flustered, it was clear she was his hag.

The followed me outside, "unintentionally," they claim. Prince and Princess had introduced themselves to me over a cigarette. Prince wasn't a smoker. Prince was a senior at a nearby school, so he seemed ideal. After he left, I was talking with Princess.

She continued to ask me if I thought Prince was cute, and so on. She made it seem like she was asking for him, so I just went all out, and said was I felt. I was completely honest, which is crazy because I'm kind of a compulsive liar.

They added me on Facebook, and he had a status up that was posted an hour after meeting me: "so, I really like you and think you're amazingly cute ha :)" Princess had posted on this ans said "i know who this is about" Being flirtatious me, I posted a status saying, "It would be vain of me to think that your status was about me, but I hope it is :3" I'm really vain... go figure.

He messaged me that afternoon, after school. He asked if my status was about him, and I was like, well do you think it's about you. He modestly said he didn't know. I told him yes. THEN he proceeded to tell me that he's seeing someone, and he didn't mean to send the wrong signal, and that his status had nothing to do with me. Um, okay, hoe. You were drooling all over me, you had to have your hag talk to me for you. Check yourself before you wreck yourself, bitch!

I'm not going to reflect on this in sum, because all I wanted was to feel wanted (by hotties), and that has happened despite me turning them down, and vice versa.

Be careful what you wish for. ;)

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Lock Me Up

Again being nice has gotten me nowhere, fast.

Today Charles had to drive me to school, because I let Madame Dupont borrow my car to go to the doctor. As always we were a little late to school, despite the fact that he know how much I hate to be late to school.

Anyways, he was also supposed to bring me home from school, because he needed me to take him to get his oil changed, and bring him to his boyfriend's after school. So I was going to do just that. I guess he just went to get his oil changed after school, and never came and go me, or let me know what was going on. Everyone got to see me wait in the rain as if I were some noob who doesn't have his own car, when in fact, I pay for my car entirely myself.

Madame Dupont picked me up from school since Charles is the most unreliable, asshole of a human being that has ever set food on this Earth.

I did something nice, I let Madame take the car, willingly too. I wasn't even mad that she needed it. But Charles had to rain on my parade.

I was so nice. SO FUCKING NICE.

I'm sick of being nice and getting nothing in return. I know I've done a lot of fucked up shit in the past, but for real? I've done plenty to make up for it, and gotten it handed back to me and then some. My horoscopes have also been very uplifting and delightful lately.

Whatever, whenever I get in a little argument with someone lately, I have to be the one to back down, which is completely out of character for me.

I want to dish it out so bad, like a big steaming pile of BITCH on a silver platter.

Saying things that don't exist.

Monday, September 20, 2010

Easy A

Yesterday, I went to the movies and saw Easy A, it was $10.75, and more.

Lately I've been doing a lot of thinking about the word SLUT. Yes, a word defined as a woman with morals of a man (1).

I've always wanted to be some kind of whore, tramp, hussy, trollop, or slut. I've always wanted to be that wanted. I've always wanted to be so obviously wanted, just by my aesthetic and reputation. Unfortunately, I feel no need to stray away from who I am or my look. It's not in the cards for me, unlike most gay men.

I've always been allowed to express myself. I can look on an old polaroid from pre-school. I can see the day exactly. We had a discussion about bunnies, and we all went around and said something about them. I said, "Bunnies like to hop." I can only imagine how bad my lisp was before I hit puberty.

The teacher (who was ironically a whore herself, proven by the fact that when I was in 4th grade, she was fired for sleeping with the new, married, Principal) posted these quotes with polaroid pictures of us all standing on a step-stool. In the photo I'm grinning huge. I have my hands folded on one knee, which was raised. I was wearing a white undershirt, that fit a little too snug, as a regular shirt. I had on baby blue shorts that went half-way down the thigh, and knee-high socks with a purple and green stripe on the top, and Barney on the side.

Looking back, I think: I've always been gay.

I've always been obsessed with fashion, and I was always encouraged to be if I so wanted. I loved 3LW and Kelly Clarkson. I would practice singing. All of my friends in the neighborhood were girls. I played with Bratz dolls. C'MON.

Everyone always knew I was, I just didn't give official confirmation until I was in 6th grade, when I was introduced to public school and learned about sex. I told my friends I was sexually interested in men. It was like history. I think the only reason gay men go through a "slut-stage" is because they need to suppress their sexual desires for the least bit of time. Seeing as how I never had to do that, I've completely avoided this stereotype.

As bad as I want to be a whore, I'm glad that I come off as a stuck-up, cold-hearted, disinterested bitch, and completely unapproachable.

I'm a five-star fag, would you expect anything less?

Thursday, September 9, 2010


When life gives you lemons, make lemonade...
When life takes your money, make more of it...

Just my luck that I have to be born into a place where I have to struggle with my own finances at 17. What happened to the day when mommy and daddy took care of everything, and you just knew everything would be alright. Since the age of 14, I've had to work to get anything I've wanted. Sure, it has taught me a ton, but it hasn't allowed me to enjoy my teen-hood.

Making $150+ a week at my age seems impressive, I know, and I should be more grateful. But when you know you're going to have to put your car on the road yourself, insurance and all, You start to panic. When you have to pay $300 for your senior page, that everyone else's parents pay for, it makes you stressed, and upset. I have to pay $100 for my own senior trip, and i have to get my own prom tickets.

I've been dreaming of a prom outfit for months, and it kills me inside that I know I'm going to have to go to S&K like everyone else in the United States to get my tux, because I'm so broke. I bust my ass to stretch my money, and make things easier for other people by paying for myself.

I bought all of my own school clothes this year, to make things easier for Aneta.

I feel like she isn't even grateful.

And if my cunt of a manager knew that I deserved hours more than people like Bovan who lie and cheat, I'd be thrilled. It's true though, good guys finish last.

I promise myself that when I run my own life, I'll always be able to live comfortably.

Money makes the world go round. That doesn't sound quite right? Does it?

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

I Am Caesar Smithe

Late last night I decided that I really am Caesar Smithe, all of my qualities lately have owned up, quite fully, to the more outspoken qualities I possess.

Last night, I told off Alejandro, who hasn't quite reached the point of dead, like she who must not be named. I have been a very good friend to Alejandro, and his complete lack of effort in our friendship has been pissing me off for a little while now. He can be such a sweetheart, but such a whore.

Alejandro isn't the only one who's been getting on my nerves lately. One of my co-workers, Nigel. Nigel is a know-it-all. He is a men's specialist, and feels overly-entitled as such. He does great work, don't get me wrong, but he thinks he's such hot shit. He's just your typical, black faggot, who think's he's fashionable and has snaggle teeth. His boyfriend is ugly. I've also been informed by other mall employees that he's known as "The Slut of" here in the area. You must be proud. Just remember Nigel, I've been Employee of the Month before, and you haven't... I'm better than you.

He told me in confidence, how many people he has slept with, so I will not expose that truth, even in anger. But let's just say it's more than 10 people (I'm choking laughing).

The third person to fill me with rage lately is my Mother.

A few days ago, my half-sister added me on Facebook. I haven't seen her since I turned 10. I haven't seen my Mother since then either. I would love to see the both of them. But why should I after they allowed Potter (the douche my mother is engaged to), to dictate who they spoke to. I guess I was a little too VIP for the list. Why now? Am I finally good enough? Was it my mother's idea, or my fat, half-sister's? Regardless, I'm still hurt, and I'm not pleased.

And with that said, I don't just feel, I act. I really people think that I'm an ass who curses too much. I'm honest, and I don't lose any sleep.

And I'm going to get what I want... as Caesar Smithe.

Monday, September 6, 2010

Summer Ends

In two days I go back to receiving my formal education. Ya, fucking, hoo.

This summer, I got my act together. I got my license and in about a week, I will be putting my very own car on the road. I will be independent and not worrying about anything, and doing what I want, on my time, with my money.

I bought all of my own clothes for school, and I took on fully my portion of the phone bill. Unlike Charles, I can handle bills, and take care of a checkbook. I act my age when necessary, and I've never been in a hurry to be older than I really am.

In about a year I will be heading off to school, I won't be home, and I'll actually be able to call all of the shots in my life. I can't wait.

It seems that a recent affair has led me to be baffled between my dream, and a romance. Love awaits me in Atlanta, where if I go to school there, I'll have to choose a completely different career path. My dream awaits me in Manhattan, the center of commerce where I'll have to open myself to a whole new network of people, and go to the school that I've dreamed of going to for the past year.

At times I feel that if I choose my dream job, I'll be so in love with my job that I'll end up being alone in my house with my millions, and a hairless cat. And now that a lover is making me question my dream, I feel he may be worth it. Maybe he's the new dream.

Through growing up, I'm still faced with some of my teenage issues and childish desires. I don't think I'll ever stop being so unrealistic.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Diane Dies

Today is one, of two days, that I got off from work this week. I decided to sleep in really late then go out with Diane later on. And I did just that.

Diane had come over sooner than expected. So instead of doing my hair, I just threw it back in a hat, and it looked fine. I took my time getting ready... doing my make up and getting dressed, since Diane had told me that she didn't mind how long I took.

When I was done getting ready we left quickly. We were on our way to her house. We were about 1/4 of the way there when Diane said, "I would have waited for you to do your hair, you didn't have to wear that hat that doesn't match."

I replied, "I wasn't in the mood to do it. And who are you to tell me what matches, you think your stupid heather grey cardigan matches everything."

She made a remark about me saying I was going to put some gel in my hair. And I explained, and I don't use gel, I only use hair spray. Diane began to raise her voice, and told me that I did say I use gel.

I got loud back at her and said, "Listen CUNT, you're wrong! I don't use gel, I don't even own fucking gel. You're FUCKING WRONG!" The car came to a screeching halt. She told me go get out. I did, and on the way out I said, "See you next Tuesday, BITCH," and slammed the door as hard as I could.

As I got out I noticed skid marks.

I only had a 30 minute walk home. It was beautiful outside. I enjoyed it more than anything I had done with Diane in the past few months.

No one has heard from Diane, since I saw her. Maybe I should be worried. Not being able to admit your wrong does have a price tag. Death.

Her cold sausage fingers texted me to try and win me over. I just kept sending her "Goodbye" in different languages. She left me a voice mail and claimed that I raised my voice first and I was being immature. She's just thick-headed. She always has to get her way. She should know by now, that in our friendship, I have always gotten my way before she ever has.

This bitch is dead to me.

Friday, August 6, 2010

Mr. Hilton

Mr. Hilton, you must be worth a trillion bucks...

A few days ago, a random guy added me on Facebook. Turns out he goes to a local high school, so I decided to keep him in my friends list, since he was obviously gay, and decent looking. He seemed really typical, nothing special. But let me tell you, I'm guessing his pictures are outdated...

On Wednesday, August 4th, he came into GAP Outlet, to come visit me. He had never been to the mall which my store is located, which was surprising since he didn't live that far away. Mr. Hilton looked much, much, more stylish and attractive than his photographs made him seem. He swiftly came up the side of the dominant column of the second "I wall" (a word used to describe the front display on a wall separating men's and women's), where I was working on separating newly marked down graphic tees from the ones that were still full price.

The night before he had told me he didn't like my hair (my hair). He told me it was too high and wasn't interesting. He told me it was boring, basically. I got over it, or so I thought. For some reason, Mr. Hilton's critique stuck. I haven't had hairspray in my hair in a few days. I've been wearing it forward (my hair).

This kid may seem like a prick, but you ain't seen nothing yet, bitches!

While the operator was clearly peacocking, he up-down-ed me. I thought nothing of it, people do it all the time. If only you knew how good my ass looked in these jeans, or so I thought. Before I could finish soaking up the looks in my mind he spoke, "Your jeans don't fit." I was like, mother fucking bitch say what?! Then he looked down on the 1.5" heel on my tan boots. He wasn't winning any points.

That night he IM-ed me and apologized profusely. He claimed, "I was really nervous." Who the fuck in their right mind insults the hottest piece of ass they've ever laid eyes on?! But whatever... after lots of guilt and conversation, we made plans for him to come over, today, at noon.

Aneta and Madame Dupont decided to go to the beach, leaving me alone with Mr. Hilton. We were talking the whole time except the last 30 minutes of his stay. At one point he said to me, "I"m definitely bigger." I laughed, climbed off of him, made myself visible (as did he), and I said, "Think again." His eyes lit up, and he bit his lip. He climbed on top of me, and kissed me...

Mr. Hilton, I like the way you push and glide.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010


Alejandro is a beautiful man, with a wide jaw, and an even wider heart. I could gaze into his green eyes until I go blind. He drives me mad, and there's a terrible delight in my heart when he's around...

Yes, I am aware that disappointment lives around the corner from perfection.

When I first met Alejandro, I expected him to be just another work of art I could be best friends with for a night, but as the days progressed, we just clicked. We share everything, like real best friends do. He thinks I'm beautiful, and I think he is as well, but we both know we aren't compatible, so the lust is enough for the two of us.

Alejandro was dating Xavier, who hardly deserves a name as far as I'm concerned, up until three days ago. Alejandro has just moved into a large city in the South-Eastern United States, and feels like at age 20, he's too perfect and freshly out of the closet to be tied down at this time in his life. That was his reason for leaving Xavier, who thought the sun rose and set on Alejandro, and was then deceived. Xavier wasn't very interesting anyway, in my personal opinion.

Alejandro told me he was going through a hard time, and didn't think he'd get back in the ring soon. In such a context, soon, means less than 48 hours. My stupidity is showing, I know.


So two nights ago, he decided he was going to invite Alejandro's Man 1, over. They drank wine and "watched a movie." In gay language that means, make out and fondle one another. I can tell he's having a real HARD time.

The next night, last night, he invites Alejandro's Man 2, over. He's a hairdresser, who met up with him an hour late, and made him walk up a hill to meet him because he's a mother fucking pansy. Anyways, Alejandro let him stay the night too. Alejandro had to go to work this morning with hickeys up and down his neck. And it showed all day. Wear them like the trashy, rebound badges they are.

What makes me so upset is that someone who came out of the closet only a few months ago knows more gays than me, and has more gays who want to be with him. I guess us gays who can't help but look like gays will never be victorious.

I struggle more, and have it ten times harder than the "straight-looking" gays and yet they always seem to be less proud. And they seem to receive more affection.

Don't wanna kiss, don't wanna touch.
Just smoke my cigarette and hush.

Saturday, July 31, 2010


I've been missing in action for a little while. My computer broke weeks ago, and I haven't been able to write. Though I may not be able to tell about all of the adventures I have had, I can recall a few that have created milestones in my summer.

One weekend, I was with Diane. We went to the new grocery store down that road that just opened this summer. And we decided, that I needed to dye my hair, spice it up. So she and I decide to get bleach and go blond. We both went blond that night, but I went blonder. I loved it.

The next day I went to work and everyone loved it. Not a single person had a negative word to say (out loud that is). I felt great. When I got home that night though, I was deeply discontent. I hated it. In a panic, I called Diane, and she and I went and bought black hair dye. Once you go black, you'll always go back.


The next event would be Mr. Yves Lazzari. Every year, this church in my county has a "Festa" and I go because when I went to private school in elementary school, that church was affiliated with the school. Diane and I went all three days, and it was wonderful. On the second day I picked up Italian pastries for Aneta and ran into Yves. He was tall and had a thick Italian accent which corresponded perfectly with his high cheek bones.

That night, I get a message on Facebook, and to my surprise, it was Yves. We were already friends. That night we had spoken on the phone for hours and had gotten to know one another. A week later he snuck me in his house, and we had a romantic night together (wink wink). He was a good kisser, but I ditched him.


Thirdly and lastly, is a story about the park. One of my favorite parks is called Stein-Metz Park. I spent the day there tanning and hanging out alone by the pond, just to have some Caesar time.

A little girl named Africa, comes up to me and attempts to give me a flower (which was just a yellow weed). I told her I didn't want it and she left. Shortly after, Africa comes over again and offers me yet another flower (which was just a different weed, that was white). I denied her gift once again, kindly. She interrupted me mid-sentence and scolded me, "TAKE THE DAMN FLOWER." I took it and she scolded me again as I attempted to set it next to me, "KEEP IT!" I kept it and she left me be. Adolescence is beautiful.... right?


Tuesday, June 8, 2010

My Tears Rolled Into The Ocean

The tears I shed, and the sadness I occasionally feel just roll into a pit of previous emotions, much like water of the rivers that flow from the mountain tops, and are forgotten and blurred once they reach the ocean.

When I am struck with emotion of mostly any kind, it is fueled by sadness and desperation. Every previous event gets brought into my mind, and begins to escalate and create a more extreme emotion than that originally generated. Only I know how to please myself. I search for something with my eyes closed.

The Greeks thought that hope was evil personified. Seeing as hope is usually a wish against the grain of life, it comes to no surprise that Greek Mythology tells us this. Despite that some mythology states that one must not give up hope, since it calms all of life's other evils. On a day-to-day basis I open Pandora's box. Seemingly, nothing comes out except dust, and nothing is exposed except a dead spider, and a web it once called home.

I find myself released when I'm alone, or when I'm around those who know little of, or about me. When I'm in my bed alone at night, I think of happy things, all of the great little things. I don't feel how I was mistreated, or how I should have retaliated when I didn't. When alone in public, I almost feel notorious, since people see my standing freely, and seeing what I have portrayed myself as without other people near, forcing my image to become a shield.

I heard two people talking behind me in the hallway this afternoon after Algebra II and Trigonometry. The one girl said to the other in a confusingly sarcastic voice, "Work it! Work it girl!" Her friend replied, "He's so stylish though," and something else implying I was attractive. And the other said, "Oh I know." Once again I received the recognition that I should get, being my own personal character.

When I'm with people who are forever part of my life, I feel like they know too much and have invaded or violated a certain human right I have to my identity. I wish I could be as shut off as you, but I'm not.

Frequently, legislation is passed, and they fulfill their duty to make laws. It seems as if the President has a difficult time correctly carrying out these laws, and at times not even carrying out said laws. I am the President.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Everyone Builds Credit

Today was as average as could be, I was scheduled at GAP for 4:15-7:15. A blip of a shift. I had planned to get a ride from Aneta, but she was unable to do it since she was still at work, over 20 miles away. Simply, I had no ride to work.

I even called Diane, but still, no ride available.

Around 3:30 I finally worked up the courage to call. A voice answers the phone, "Thank you for calling GAP Outlet in Rotterdam Mall. This is Stacy, I can help you." I could hear the generic happiness and enthusiasm that accompanies answering the phone there.

I was relieved when I hear Stacy's voice. I was so glad that it wasn't Hugh. Despite the fact that I am seeing him more and more as a real human being, he still intimidates the shit out of me in terms of an employee-employer relationship. I told Stacy the truth, even though I heavily contemplated faking sick. I can fake sick pretty damn good too!

She laughed and exclaimed, "It's Okay! Employee of the Month!" She called me by it as if it were my name.

I smiled and said, "But I still feel terrible, you know?!" I really did just feel terrible about the whole thing. I had never called in a day of my life until today.

She comforted me with,"Everyone builds credit. And here, you've done just that. It's completely excusable." At the time this didn't seem very comforting to me, and I continued to just spill apologies out of my mouth. Looking back on it, it meant a lot to me.

I have learned that over the course of 8 months, I've been awarded Employee of the Month which people who have been there over a year haven't even gotten. I've built friends and healthy co-worker relations. And I have established a great reference. I've sorted clearance for hours. I've done other's floor plans single-handedly. I've delivered some of the best customer service that store has ever seen. I've earned it all, by working my fucking ass off!

Seeing that I have no one to thank but myself really takes any fear of independence out of me.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010


At times I must admit that the games in life (because that is all life is composed of) really exhaust me.

Today after school, I had detention with Profesora. It was alright despite the fact that her room was ridiculously hot. I got home a few minutes after five, and took a nap since I was going out with Diane, late tonight.

Once I awoke from my shower Diane was over, and Charles and his faggot-ass "friend" were over. Diane told me that she said I had detention--she has to be the stupidest friend I have. Fucking A. Then she said that Charles opened his fat mouth (for something other than food for a change) to say, "He got caught smoking on the stage." Apparently Aneta believed him. She's pissed about that.

Aneta told me Charles is the biggest liar she's ever met. If she's sticking by that statement, I think Aneta is the most naive, foolish, desperate woman I've ever met.

The other day I was informed that someone posted an ad on Craigslist for me. And undeniably, someone who say me at work, had indeed wanted to meet me. He's 48. Right there he was untouchable territory. But apparently I'm an idiot and I can't handle anything myself. I think Aneta thinks I was going to give it a go. Sorry, I don't want to end up with 4 failed marriages, and several affairs in between.

Aneta was mad at Charles the other day, but after I got out of the shower they were dancing. Are you serious. I know why Kind Arthur doesn't understand them and got out of dodge. Charles said he could take care of Aneta all on his own, have fun with that burger boy.

I'm still having a bit of a personal struggle still. I feel ugly and unwanted 99.9% of the time. I'm just a try hard with over plucked eyebrows, too much makeup, and too much gel in his hair. I'm just waiting for a revolution.

Friday, May 21, 2010

Not Worth Europe

Today was an eventful day to say the least.

This evening, was King Arthur's Uncle's funeral. At the funeral Aneta seemed to be segregated... and he stayed with his family and left her alone all night. His family glared at her all night. To make a long story short she told him off. She then proceeded to drive home without him. His brother had to bring him to the house, and tonight he is spending the night at mommy's.

This evening after everyone left, Diane, Aneta, and I sat to watch The Ugly Truth, to get her mind off things.

During the movie Charles called yelling at me to get my name out of his mouth. Lately he's been spending all of his free time with his "straight" (meaning closeted) friend. Which I don't care about, I just don't understand why he won't tell anyone they're having an affair, or that he wants one at least. He even jumped up and down one night when he called--COME ON! He told me he heard everything Diane and I were "saying," which I actually didn't say anything. I wanted to talk to Diane about them so bad, BUT I knew she'd open her big mouth so I didn't say anything. And it's not like I could tell many other people because most of the people who know aren't anyone I'd want to chat about it with.

Then he told me he wasn't going to bring me to work anymore. And he said "He shouldn't have gone to Europe then!" while on the phone with Aneta. After he got off the phone, Aneta explained things. She told me that when she told me she'd let me go to Europe, that I had to choose between that and a car. SHE NEVER SAID THAT! She continued to say that the money she acquired was originally for a car, and she never said that. I am so nice when people give me stuff, if she told me it was intended for a car, then that's what I would have asked for.

And I mean this with every bit of my heart: if that had been the case, I would have gotten that car and signed a contract that I couldn't leave the country until I turned 50. I would give up everything from that perfect trip for a car. I have never regretted something as beautiful as the French countryside, The Italian Alps, Big Ben, even my new friends and Sebastien. I'd repeat the 11th grade if it meant I could change my decision.

I don't think I can ever look back on that trip the same way again. I never seem to make the right decisions despite how much of I pushover I am to my family. I don't even know how to take off this bulky invincible exterior and let someone in and be a real human being. I'm so tired of trying to be me... and failing every time.

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

National Honor Society

Today at my High School it was the day of the National Honor Society inductions. This means a ton on smart people talking about themselves and how great they are, and recognizing themselves as being a member of an academic hierarchy.

The four qualities are in their logo as CSLS, standing for character, scholarship, leadership, and service.

The first quality CHARACTER deals with personality mostly, but integrity (BARF) also. Most of the students up there have none. I do know for a fact that one of the boys being inducted even let someone give them head in their car in exchange for a ride. Francois was inducted too. His best quality is that he beats off in class. Whatever, I could think of a million people that have more character, GOOD CHARACTER, that are more worthy of being a member.

The next quality, SCHOLARSHIP tell us that the student has maintained a ridiculous GPA since the beginning of ninth grade. This also tells us that they've dedicated too much time and effort into good grades, and have diminished their social life. I get decent grades, and I'm definitely not going anywhere. Who is to say that just because someones GPA was off one quarter that they have less character, leadership, and service than another person?

The third quality, LEADERSHIP is one that I have the biggest problem with. The student that gave the speech on it has the least leadership in the school that I could possible fathom. She's just a cross-eyed, wall flower who doesn't answer questions voluntarily in the class room, and spends all of her spare time at church when she isn't at K-mart, working. I must admit though, the new inductees did posses this quality strongly.

Lastly, we have the quality of SERVICE. Don't you just love giving up insane amounts of your free time being nice and giving back to your community? I DON'T. These kids do so much to help out and it's great and all, but it's like geeze, get a fucking life. If everyone gave up some time every now and again we'd have plenty of people to help out, who cares if some people want to do it all. It's their choice. One of the people inducted is volunteering 40 hours a week over the summer and she's proud of it. I don't even want to give up 40 hours a week and get paid for it.

Most of the kids were dressed to a tee. But as Marilyn spoke one one girl's outfit, "She looks like she has a burlap sack wrapped around her." Trust me, she wasn't the only one who looked a fool. This cult is a joke in my eyes, but I'm proud of Marilyn for getting in since she meets the criteria in a healthy way. It'll look great on her college resume.

You don't need NHS to be famous, so I'm lucky.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

The Texan

It was late Sunday night, and I had been home for several hours before my phone rang. The phone caught me completely off guard, and I didn't even have time to have the usual "I hope this is something interesting," thought. I looked at the phone, and it was Sonian--a reoccurring lover.

I met Sonian in 2008, when I still used MySpace. We had completely innocent interactions when we first began talking. But as time progressed, our conversations did too. I noticed eventually, that every conversation become more stimulating. I could feel my emotions being attached to him. Every time he texted or called my heart would beat faster each time. But come summer's end, our two-month foundation had dissipated into school books and real life.

As I grew socially in school, I wilted socially on the Internet. And I began to drop friends accidentally, and it was a downward spiral from there. But every now and again I would call Sonian and see how he was, or he would randomly pick up the phone and call me. Even though I knew it was real, I was skeptical.

It was near Christmas when I first told him I loved him. We would talk for hours and hours. He and I would discuss our futures together. We would talk about how perfect our love would be with perfect jobs, living in New York City, and never being sad or upset another day or either of our lives. I found every word that left his lips intriguing. I thought everything he said was ridiculously, overwhelmingly, adorable and sincere.

When he got a hold of me a few nights ago, he started with the charm immediately. He told me he had something to tell me, and of course I told him I was all ears, and that I was ready when he was. And he replied, "No, Guess!" I knew he had something cute to say. But I couldn't help but think he wanted to call for phone sex. But I had remembered that he told me he planned to go to New York City after graduation (this year). So I used that as my guess.

Conveniently I was right. He told me he was going to be coming for a week sometime after June 5th, but before the end of June. Less than a month. We spoke for another hour and the forever burning embers caught one small tree on fire, to ignite a forest fire that put any fire in California to shame.

It was more beautiful than ever to be able to say I Love You to him again. This reoccurring romance might have a chance to try to be more than a virtual forest fire. The only reason it's note-worthy is because we didn't break contact. This love has taken it's toll...