Eighteen

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.

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.

P-O'd

This morning I woke up to a feeling on my face. If I remember correctly, I felt something crawling on my cheek, and I swatted at my own face several times. Then I felt it on my finger, and then I felt an extremely painful sting, or bite of some sort. At this point I'm flailing my arms, and now nothing is on my hands. I'm sitting up in my bed, and I can hear a bee buzzing. I shake out my sheets and run upstairs to attend to my finger. My left middle finger has doubled in size. I killed that mother fucking bumble bee that bit me. That's what you get for waking me up at 5:50AM.

Then I wore a t-shirt today because nothing fucking looks good on anymore. Not to mention my make up looks like fucking shit.

Then at school, no one seemed to be in a good mood. I got fucking yelled at in Art today for doing homework when people use his class as a study hall all the time. AND I'm ahead of EVERYONE on the current project. I was scrambling to get work done during classes all day, even during my lunch.

Later in the day, Mr. McWhite had to brag to the whole class how Stephanie was the only one who received a passing grade on the quiz from the day before. Too bad the diabetic cunt lied to him before class, and told him she had to go to the nurse to check her blood sugar, when she really wanted extra time to study for today's quiz. That bitch's mom is a lunch lady and her dad is a mechanic, she's not going anywhere in life. Go into a diabetic coma plz?

Mr. McWhite, you are the most obnoxious, oblivious, instigator I've ever met in my whole entire life. Go to hell.

Then at work, this arrogant prick, Bovan, did NO work. Another associate and I ended up doing most of his run backs, and helping him fold down his sections of the store. Do your damn job, and don't you dare for one second condescend to me about not getting GAP Cards. I may not get GAP Cards, but at least I can manage my time and prioritize how I'm asked, you inefficient fuck. The douche bag doesn't even know that everyone knows that he's hooking with Stacy, the second assistant manager. The jewelery store bitch told everyone she saw you two kissing in the parking lot--real classy!

My finger is almost completely back to normal not, And I'm fucking scared to sleep in my own bed because of damn bumble bees. There better be something good on TV, because I will kill myself if there isn't.

Artificial

The Nark is on full alert today during US History. She thinks I'm behaving in the computer lab doing as I'm supposed to. I'm just trying to prove her oblivion despite the fact the fact that she thinks she's like God in that she's all knowing.

She's standing and pacing around the room like she's so innocent, but she's not. I've seen and experienced her true colors. I know how she talks to her husband, and treats him like a second-class citizen. Marilyn has filled me in, and knowing how she was in Europe DOES NOT help her cause.

I know just how to get under her skin, so I have no problem deflecting her condescending attitude. She likes to be in power. I take her out of power to see her vulnerable because I know that is exactly what she doesn't want to be.

In school, I know I act similar to how Narcotics Police act. But I have different intent. I act how I do because it's who I am, but she does it for the reputation of for some kind of notoriety. She's a woman of God, and she follows the church--so you know there has to be a contradiction near by. Haha.

I have never needed a cigarette so bad in my life. School fucking stresses me out. I don't even have a pack right now, otherwise I'd "Go to the bathroom," and have a cigarette on the stage.

Europe III

This is my third and final blog on my trip to Europe. We move on to romance...

It was in JFK, that I first met Sebastien, who is Marilyn's cousin. He was clearly aware he looked good seeing as he flipped his hair when he came over. I knew the only to intrigue him is if I was the only one not interested in him. So I waited for him to introduce himself, or have Marilyn do it. He wanted to be my friend, because I seemed to be on his wavelength (when in all honesty, I think mine is slightly above his).

We became friends in London, when on the way to Piccadilly Circus. He stole my camera to take pictures, and he took the fist picture IN EUROPE with my camera. It was cute, but overbearing. Over the next few days it was just some gay jokes that progressively got more serious--on both sides, and increasing amounts of conversation.

We roomed together in Florence, with Aaren. We sat up and spoke all night. We even chatted while in our underwear (getting dresses, but that doesn't sound as good) before we got ready to go to the Club.

The next day we got gelato, I remember, I got mint, and he got coffee. I told him that I almost got the same flavor. He said do you want a taste. Here I am thinking that I have to use my spoon... he lifted some up. For some reason, I said You can try mine as well. I don't even know why I acted this way to be honest. And we fed one another gelato on the streets of Italy. There were several other times too. It's a shame that no one could have documented it.

While at dinner in Assisi, he tried to kiss me over a plate of spaghetti, and I realized that this was all too perfect.

One the last night, in Rome. Sebastien roomed down the hall. After I made him over that night into perfection, he was supposed to get settled down for the night then come to my room to hang out. He never showed up and went to go see where he was and he wasn't in his room. I found out he instead went to Brittany's room. I went into Liz and Samantha's room, to look out the window, into their room, and I saw them kissing on the bed! I got upset and Gretta, and Marilyn comforted me. While comforting me I formed a scheme.

I knew how Sebastien would act. So from there I told Gretta and Marilyn to act like they hadn't seen me since room check. I went back to Liz and Samantha's room and told them to interrupt them and say I looked in the room and got really upset and left. I told Aaren to say he thought I was in Sebastien's room. I stayed in the Southern Girls' room, and hid in their closet. Everything went according to plan. But after not finding me for 20 minutes, he went back to Brittany's room. I went to "bed" and had Aaren interrupt again and say he found me...

Sebastien came in and "woke me up" and wanted to talk to me, we went and sat in the lobby and chatted for quite some time. I told him how I felt about him, and how I know I don't want to like him. And he was like telling me he's not gay at all. BUT HE TOTALLY IS. He basically broke my heart, and I think it was because I made it seem like I didn't wanna like him, when secretly I totally just wanted to get married right then and there.

We hung out in the Airport the whole time on the way back home. And probably would have on the plane, but I needed time with Marilyn more. We even got money exchanged just so we could bet espressos in LHR. When we were back in JFK, things really seemed different. It was the first place we ever met. We went to Starbucks together and got cinnamon scones, and he got a coffee with it. I told him how cinnamon scones were my favorite, and he told me, "I'll never be able to forget that now," and giggled while he took a bite

When I first said goodbye to him I gave him half a hug which was more than a friendly bro hug. And after the goodbye chit chat, and he had to walk the other way to his car, it felt like he looked into my soul when he said goodbye. From there until we got on the bus, I didn't look back. And when I was getting on the bus I actually looked, and he was no where to be found. I think it was best that I never know whether he looked back or not after.

Europe II

This blog on Europe will tell you about some of the new friends I made.

Since I've already told you about Marilyn in the past, I don't see any point in elaborating on the ridiculously unhealthy amount of fun we had. I even told her mom (also my US History teacher), The Nark, what a queef was, and I didn't even offend her. Marilyn and I had a great time taking pictures in the shadows of Italy, and searching for dress shops. We gallivanted through a romantic park in Paris as if we were a couple and smoked a cigarette. She and I will always have one thing in common--disliking The Midwest due to it's boring landscape.

Next on the agenda would be Gretta. She and I bonded the whole time. She looks like she stepped straight out of Eastern Europe. We made fun of the world and endlessly called each other perfect. When we were in Italy, people who were selling faux leather jackets kept trying to sell them to her. I pretended to be her boyfriend to one guy, and he said, "I'll give you 2 free coats, and you'll be my girlfriend!" Another offered her 50% off. And we were joking about 100% off, another vendor offered her 150% off. They were going to pay her to take the fucking coat!

Third I have Brittany. She is from Newfoundland. She clicked with me immediately, we went for late night strolls in each neighborhood to smoke with her friend. When we were on the overnight train, I was feeling homesick, and she sat in my bunk with me for a couple of hours, and talked with me. We really got to open up to one another. Unfortunately in the in, she ended up disappointing me.

Then we have Aaren, oh Aaren. He was quite possibly the only straight man who I've ever enjoyed their company. He's a freshman, and he was interested in broadening his horizons and understanding the gay culture, he even smoked a cigarette with me, so he earned points there. He let me do his brows too! On the last night, he was bragging about his body to me, and let me feel every muscle of his body. And let me tell you, he is so fucking sexy, I can't up it in words. YUM!

Samantha and Liz were from Newfoundland like Brittany. You'll hear more about them in the next blog. But these girls are so sweet, they danced on a table in a club in Italy with me, and even built a fort in their hotel room with me.

Last if Sebastien, but he's basically the whole theme of my next blog on ROMANCE.

Oh, School

Last Friday grades closed for the 5-week progress report. Yesterday, teachers revealed grades to students.

I knew I was doing well in every class but Chemistry. I haven't don't a single assignment in these past 5-weeks. I knew I would be failing, but I didn't really give a shit because I knew I could turn the grade around. Well I found out that I have a 19--yes, that's out of 100.

I have never in my life failed a class on a report card, but failing on a progress report never gets back to colleges, THANK GOODNESS. I'm going to get a 91 on the report card. I did first quarter.

My teacher, who is the most outrageously ridiculous woman I've ever met, freaked out because so many people were failing. She was saying hot disappointed she was in us and blah blah blah. You're the teacher, clearly you're doing something wrong too.

Anyways, she loves a good joke, and instead of explaining the notes she prefers to tell us stories of her daughter's friend, and she stupid-ass husband. She flirts with Reg, the captain of the wrestling team, like it's her job. Reg and all of his friends make fun of her, and she tries to make fun back, and be cool. She's bizarre to begin with, with her over sized polo shirts, 80's do, black moccasins, and her speech impediment.

I'm just going to work, I needed a break that's all. I have a fool-proof strategy, so I don't really care. I'm going to be staying after school with my friend Marilyn a few days a week since her mom is making her.

"I know that I must pass this test, so just pull the trigger."