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Today was the
Monday of the school year. I feel like my brain is about to burst. There’s so much review work, research to find, lockers to clean out, blah blah blah. My head is full of thoughts about different classes, friends, and teachers, plus the book I’m reading, the story I’m writing, and my—
— love life. Time to practice driving; no, time to answer this text message; no, time to eat. I have all the time in the world to do all this. Why does it feel like so much?
Hey, Monday. Have you
The music is bumping, the lights are dim, people are sweaty and thirsty. I glance away from my circle of girl friends and see a girl in one of my classes talking to a guy. A
guy. But it seems just friendly, so I walk over.
“Hey,” I say to my friend.
“Hey!” she says back. “I want you to meet my friend.”
My heart seems to stop.
Moments later we talk and dance. We discuss music, school, friends, all that jazz.
Slow dance time.
He crouches down to my height, making me laugh.
When his hand would find mine, or when his arm stretched up as he “yawned,” knowing full well that
knew full well what he was doing. When his leg shook impatiently. When I sat, scared and shy. When he whispered in my ear,
“Tell me what happens!
“You’ll have to see on your own!”
“I think I know.”
Then, BAM. His lips on mine.
Shy smiles, red-hot faces. I glanced at the screen. Bella and Edward had their first kiss.
Ruined by an AIM conversation.
We “live too far, you know?”
. . .
One hundred letters,
One hundred numbers,
One hundred dots,
One hundred hearts,
One hundred stars,
One hundred suns,
One hundred moons,
One hundred smiles,
One hundred blinks,
One hundred heartbeats,
One hundred winks,
One hundred laughs,
One hundred tears,
One hundred goals,
One hundred dreams,
One hundred songs,
One hundred fears,
One hundred handshakes,
One hundred hugs,
One hundred kisses,
One hundred inside jokes,
One hundred wishes,
One hundred popsicles,
One hundred late-night calls,
One hundred lyrics,
One hundred secrets,
One hundred dollars,
One hundred pictures,
One hundred days,
One hundred words,
. . .
all in your hands.
I opened the door. He stood there with a dozen roses and a teddy bear in hand.
“Oh my GOD!”
After hugging him, putting the flowers in a vase and the teddy in my room, walking out to the car, and driving, we got ice cream and then saw
Friday the 13th
Heat rushed to my face as we held hands.
Parking lot, back seat.
Heat rushed to my body as he held me.
We whispered three words.
Our lips touched softly.
Again, “I love you.”
Then, he ignored me. Completely.
First day of summer, when I’m not even thinking about him, when I haven’t thought about him for a
time, when I was finally just about over the hurt of losing him, when the song
Gonna Get Caught
by Demi Lovato made me feel vindicated and powerful and like I was really and truly over him, and he really
be out of my head, when I was really starting to believe
“out of sight, out of mind,”
when I accepted the fact that I would
talk to him again . . .
I get a MySpace message.
He wanted to hang out.
He wanted to catch up.
He wanted to chill out.
I have no idea how I’ll feel upon seeing you again. We haven’t spoken, much less seen each other, in four months.
Valentine’s day. You ignored my calls, made me feel like crap, pushed me to the edge of breaking up with you. You want to “catch up” with a group of six people, hanging out? No.
, I said this:
Sure, although I don’t know how I’ll feel seeing you again. But I’ll never know until I do, right?
Sitting on the swing in my backyard, I look up at the sky and wonder what it would be like to fly, to get away, to be something different, to be somewhere else.
Lying on my back in my bedroom, I look up at the ceiling and wonder what it would be like to touch the real stars that, in front of me, are just painted on.
Gazing into your eyes, I look up and close mine before I cry and wonder what it would be like if this moment could last forever, if you and I could be forever.
The day came to hang out together.
And it wasn’t too awkward.
Seeing him again didn’t conjure up old feelings. It didn’t spur any hatred or romance. Seeing him again only helped me to see what I had already unconsciously resolved to myself. But the thought became almost tangible, it was so real.
I was over him.
And we could still be friends.
I could put the anger aside, rid myself of the grudge I was holding because of the pain he put me through. I could forgive all that and we could be friends.
But I will never forget.
I absolutely love music.
But I don’t just listen to songs for the melody. Sure, the instruments play a humongous part in making a song enjoyable. But what I really listen for is the lyrics. I love lyrics because I love words in general.
do you think I’m on this site?)
Some of my favorite lyrics are the ones that can make people think. Songs with deep or inspirational lyrics can make me feel something amazing inside.
As the saying goes—and I do not know the author of this quote—“
Music is what feelings sound like
Lyric of the day:
“Even in the Dark” Company of Thieves
"Those who seek no answers
Keep it from the table,
Ignorance is eaten up
When everyone must be fed.
This life is constant hunger;
See it in the dreamers,
Believe in the believers of
An end is kind of love
Find your calling,
Even in the dark,
You gotta find your calling,
Even in the dark,
Everyone must be heard,
Even in the darkness."
The message in this is easily spelled out.
Find your calling.
Do what you love to do.
Speak up about what you believe.
Imagine if you could be someone completely different than who you are right now.
You could get to
live in a different house,
have a different job,
have a different hairstyle,
different eye color,
A whole new, different life.
Anyone, and everyone, who plays
gets that opportunity.
More specifically, anyone and everyone who plays
The Sims 2
gets that opportunity. Those are the ones that let you age,
and you can choose to be
a child, teenager, adult, or elder.
It’s a sweet game.
Writing one hundred words is a challenge. Writing one hundred words is a challenge. Writing one hundred words is a challenge. Writing one hundred words is a challenge. Writing one hundred words is a challenge. Writing one hundred words is a challenge. Writing one hundred words is a challenge. Writing one hundred words is a challenge. Writing one hundred words is a challenge. Writing one hundred words is a challenge. Writing one hundred words is a challenge. Writing one hundred words is a challenge. Writing one hundred words is a challenge. Copy and paste isn’t.
I had nothing to write.
Those five words are intimidating:
Who I’d Like to Meet.
If I took the time, I’d be writing
a novel about that person.
Instead, I’ll write here about it.
I would like to meet:
a guy who’s loving, honest, trustworthy, smart, funny, and cute;
a guy who listens to me,
and talks to me,
whose kisses make my heart race.
I would like to meet the perfect guy:
the Chandler to my Monica,
the Noah to my Allie,
the Eric to my Donna,
the Edward to my Bella,
the Cory to my Topanga.
Is that too much to ask for?
So I haven’t written in a while, and I’m glad that this site lets people make up days. I’m trying to think of what I did on Tuesday. I know that it was a week since I saw my ex-boyfriend for the first time again. And I also know that that same day was the day that I met someone
. Granted, I didn’t get to talk to this guy a lot, but he was pretty cute, and funny, and nice, and apparently smart and “perfect for me,” as two of my friends say. Who knows
I didn’t know that smiley faces actually count as words in Microsoft Word. That is what I’m using to write these one hundred word entries—I do the word count, copy and paste, format the whole thing with spacing, bold, and italics, and submit my entry. But I’m a total perfectionist about it. If I preview an entry and the spacing is weird, or there’s one word that I think should go on another line, I need to restructure the wording so it all fits.
It needs to be eye-catching and perfect,
or it can’t be submitted.
Is that normal?
I’m seeing him again.
Plans for Friday: chill out with the group, play basketball, walk around, go to a friend’s house and watch movies.
Just like last Tuesday.
When I saw my ex.
And when I met this new guy.
According to my friend, this guy is somewhat interested in getting to know me better, as I am interested in him. He can be shy, but he will make the first move if I want him to, according to my friend. I'm somewhat shy and would want him to make the first move, too.
We’ll see what happens.
Go Ask Alice
by Ellen Hopkins are so scary, intriguing, juicy, creepy, and well-written to the point of just reinforcing my pledge to myself to be above the influence.
I am reading to keep myself less nervous. Because just
about seeing this guy puts my stomach butterflies in motion, even though I don’t know if I
like him or not because I haven’t seen him since last Tuesday and that was the first time I saw him.
But hey, I’ve always believed in
some kind of love at first sight.
Guess what today was?
Guess who was nervously excited all day?
at my friend’s house today like he said he would?
Guess who got her hopes up, and then they were crushed when he didn’t show up?
Guess who talked to this guy briefly
, later in the day, on XBOX live?
the sound of
his voice, and his laugh?
Guess who, apparently, thinks I’m pretty?
Guess who I
Guess who doesn’t want to get her
hopes up for tomorrow?
Guess who can’t
fall sleep now?
Did you guess yet?
So I didn’t see him today.
I have this song stuck in my head.
“On Top of the World”
Boys Like Girls
”Look up, the stars are fading
And I am still here waiting
To see you again,
Be with you my friend, when
The moon is gone forever,
I hope you're up there somewhere.
I'll see you again,
Be with you my friend.
Let's spend tonight
On top of the world.
We can do anything,
We can be anything.
I'll meet you tonight
On top of the world.
As real as it seems,
You're only in my dreams.”
Being single is great— and also sucks.
I get to check out all the cute guys I want when I go to the mall, or any place.
Then I see couples walking hand-in-hand, with the gaze of love in their eyes, and inside I wish I could have that.
I get to make jokes about wishing
was my boyfriend— no,
I even get to put my hands up when
But then I listen to songs and watch movies about being in love and I remember how it felt like, long to feel it again.
My mom’s birthday is the same as mine.
Once she told me she had a “birthday” resolution: that she was going to, very soon, quit smoking.
Four days afterwards
5 years and 7 months ago;
2,039 days ago today
And I was so proud of her.
Every month on my calendar,
the 22nd said “Mama’s quit day!”
In grammar school, I made her a card every month that had a circle with a line drawn through it, and a cigarette in the middle, the front reading “HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!”
or “I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!”
I still am now.
I’ve learned not to get my hopes up about seeing this guy. The first time I met him, I wasn’t expecting him at all. And when we were supposed to hang out together again, and I
him to be there, he didn’t show up. So when my friend says everyone is hanging out this Saturday— which means
may possibly be there— I’m trying to think to myself not to worry about if he’ll be there or not, what I’ll wear, what I’ll say, or if I should bring my gum and lip gloss.
I’m really trying.
I’ve been called weird. I have had a lot of those dorky moments, and I've said things that no one else understands. But doesn’t
I’ve been called crazy, too— “boy crazy,” because I’ve had
different crushes throughout the years. But hasn’t
I’ve been called desperate. But I don’t think I’m
desperate. Everyone has definitely been single before. And I just happen to
want a boyfriend. But I don’t
one to survive, at the moment. I'm only longing for love and companionship with someone else. But doesn’t
We're all normally weird, differently similar.
The plans have changed for Sunday now, and it’s “most likely” that everyone can make it.
getting my hopes up. I’m
thinking about seeing the boy, who shall remain nameless on this site, again.
I’m most definitely
thinking about what I’m going to say. I
go to the mall, buy a new top, and think to myself, “I should wear this on Sunday.” I have
pictured this guy smiling, laughing, talking to me. And I am most definitely
wondering about bringing gum and lip gloss.
Just so you know, I’m
Well, not totally.
I’m bringing gum and lip gloss.
Rich-text editor is weird. I didn’t have to keep putting in the HTML to make spaces or bold or anything, but then the result wasn’t in the font I wanted, which is Arial. I
the default font for this site. I’m not sure if it would stay Arial or Times New Roman once the entry was filed, because I didn’t try. I just reset my settings back to the normal way.
Sometimes change is good, or it’s something some people can’t get used to because familiarity is comforting.
So I skipped a couple days of writing. So I think I’ll update you on the situation with this “new” boy again.
I got to see him on the last day of June!
I was getting ready to hang out with a couple friends, and then, five minutes before I get there, I find out that this guy will be there. I was trying to just calm myself down. But the closer I got to my friend’s house, the more my mind would race with possibilities; would we talk to each other? Does he like me?
Do I like
So we talked. We joked. We laughed. We sang. We held hands. We played Hang Man. We said we like each other. We said we need to hang out a lot more often. We hugged.
And I floated home in my daydreams of seeing him again.
I am back in
, and I can’t
how much I missed the feeling.
His smile, his laugh, his voice, his eyes—
his eyes!— his shyness, his sense of humor, his personality, the way he’s himself in front of me . . . it’s quite amazing.
I love smiley faces.
So it looks like I have 200 words left to write. Well, now it’s 185. What should I write about? Hmm. Well right now it’s really July 1st at 4:27 in the morning. I cannot sleep because I just had an amazing day with awesome friends and a guy I now am officially saying that I like. I should just stay up another few hours until my mom goes to work, and then nap for a couple hours. But I think after I write these words, I’ll try to get in a couple power-sleep hours. This was a random entry.
I cannot wait for these upcoming events:
Getting five stars on every song on medium on GH2— TBA. Hanging out with
again— TBA. Starting and finishing my summer project— ASAP. Jonas Brothers concert— less than 2 weeks away. Workshop for writing— 2ish weeks away. July 2009 batch, where I will actually
a few hours away.
The site was weird during my May batch, and I wanted to finish it quickly so it kind of sucks. I consider this my first real batch that opened up a window into my life.
Hope you enjoyed reading it!
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