Mixed

What feelings am I supposed to have about going back to High School? It's not just any other high school either but the one I came from. It feels like 90210 for me.. well just that this is in East LA. To answer that question and to put it easily, my feelings are mixed. This isn't me going back for another year of having a set schedule of six periods and nutrition and lunch and the fourth floor and walking up the hill after school. I actually don't know if I can really handle it. I really don't even know if it's even a good idea. Even though it's a different experience to go through now, there's a lot of looking back I'm going to do and a lot of reliving I want to try and stay away from. The problem is, as much as the teacher's, the school, the administrators, and the student's may have changed, I haven't. That is a definite answer. I'm solid when it comes to that and perhaps that's one thing that I know I'm secure and stable about, it's hard for me to change so I don't. It may not show, but I'm thinking the same way I have when I first stepped foot in there, I feel the same way and have quite the same amount of perspective and reasoning, if not more now, just as before. This is one challenge I'm excited to take. It's a challenge I'm nervous to take. The teachers and counselors and administrators who helped me get to where I am now are there and the thanks I have for them will never go unending so maybe, perhaps, this is one way I can give back this time around. -- I waited to get out of high school when I was in it. Now only after one year, I'm going back. And this time, it's with a new incentive, outlook, and an unexplainable amount of gratitude I need and want to give back.

No

I got a text, it's really late. Who is this, what do you want, and why now. This is ancient history that's not about to repeat itself. Ugh. I miss him. I don't care how mad we get at one another or annoyed or irritated, I really miss him. And I really don't want anything or anyone else. I guess that's why I get so bitter sometimes. People either try to replace other friends and do it on purpose and it just really doesn't pan out that way. It just doesn't work. Yet they still try. Next thing you know, they're failing while they try so hard. No, I do not want to go out with you. No, I do not want to "kick it" with you. No, I (definitely) do not want to "blaze it" with you. No, I do not want to! No, I do not want you. No! Do you not hear me?! I don't get how people who cheat get off of this stuff. It makes me sick just thinking about it. There is no thrill to it, there is no reward for it. There is on the otherhand the guilt you have to live with. I do not need nor want any of that. I still miss him. And that's all I will keep doing, because when it comes down to it, at the end of the week, with only a Saturday shared, he's the one person who makes me happy, despite everything, it's him and just him.

Blank

So I guess change for me really doesn't work out the way I want it to. I tried the being single thing. Didn't work. I tried the being mean thing. Didn't work. I tried the be the kind of person other people are-- you know the mean, cold-hearted, cheating, betraying, bitchy kind of people. Didn't work. That latter one was there for kicks, it's just not in me to be! Anyway, I went for the bedroom. I wanted a blank slate. So what did I do? I painted my walls white. Plain white. Glacier white to be exact. Before that though my walls were green, lime green. My walls were filled with deflated balloons, high school flyers, magazine pages, and his name written all over it, literally. It was from our high school's pep rally, he was a straight A kid and his name was up on our school's gym wall, an old or maybe I should say ex-friend took it down for me. Well nonetheless, after being tired of looking at all that stuff I took it all off . I didn't want anything to look that made me remember anyone nor anything I didn't want to. One by one my lime green walls were bare and the marks left by what had been up were painted over with. This summer was for me to move on and to start new. But what am I exactly stuck with now? I am left with a fourth of my wall that is BLANK. Nothing, NADA. I can't come up with anything at all to put up there. I wanted change and that's not quite what I got. I noticed going through all my things that there was a lot I didn't want to throw away. I hold on to things a lot. And I mean ALOT. Then when I realized I was doing it, a thought came over me that I don't like forgetting things nor some of the people I've met. And when I do push myself of all the problems I have with holding grudges and remembering the wrongs done to me, it really does come down to one thing: I can't let things go. Well at least that's what I thought. I threw trashbags away of things that I didn't want to remember and pictures I didn't want to see again. Then it came over me again, I use to do this with everything. With my pictures online and my multiple blogs and diaries that are all over the place. My life is messed up and I write about it anyway. I write to remember what's happened to me and to recall past feelings I've been reluctant to feel again. Luckily now I can just reflect on them instead of taking action on them. I hope to figure this white wall out because it seems to be a barrier each time I look at it-- and I don't mean that in the literal sense.

Crushed

He's disappointed about his birthday and well, I'm just disappointed. Sometimes he acts like I am the immature one and to some extent that's true... yet I've come to understand that I'm immature to petty things. Things that either don't really matter or he finds not to matter. Feasible I suppose for him being a guy and all but nonetheless that is what it is: on some level he has to be in the right. I have to say though, the top is a lonely place for someone to want to be in. To his birthday though, previous years he's enjoyed his birthday more. There was his birthday of 2004--he is turning 15-- where I read him his birthday card in bed and beforehand a gigantic balloon I give him disappears to Athens, Greece on Cornwell Street by our school as we walk to catch the 605-- by all means necessary I do need to add that we were at the top of our youth, juvenile, young, naive (well I was) and we had no problems, and well at least that's what I thought. Then there was his birthday of 2005 where I was either a bad "girlfriend" for not writing down what I did with him that day or being an awful one writing down things I was doing behind his back. Anyway, that was the year he broke up with me. Awful birthday feedback for me in this case. Oh! But what's this? With the flickr account I have, I got to retrace his birthday gifts that day and it was the Cookies and Cream Ice Cream Cake with the Soccer Bag-- he was playing soccer that semester, "Happy 16th Birthday Diego!" is the writing on the cake in yellow. Next was his birthday of 2006. This was during the time where I stopped writing literally in my diary and instead on a Microsoft Document, now updated and entitled, simply, "memoir". This was also the year where I get invited halfheartedly IF AT ALL by his friends to a birthday party for him. Of course who would want me there? I was the "girlfriend" who and oh do I quote, "is not going to fit in". Well of course I would be lying and exaggerating if the girl who said it wasn't just in my class nor sitting right in front of me whispering to the other one. And he wonders why I didn't go that day, "you were invited?" -- yeah it surprised me too. Feel the sarcasm, please. I guess he really was more blind then than he is now. Oh and there was his birthday of 2007. I saved up working during summer and I went out to buy him a nano i-pod and an "Everyone Loves Our Trojan Engineer" cake that I ripped from one of his most worn t-shirts the school year and summer before. Well, not to be cold-hearted or ill-worded, but that was less than two months after the big "it" happened. So now we are down to this year, 2008. His birthday on the 19th was two days ago. And he's disappointed because it didn't feel like his birthday. There was no opening of gifts, oh, but there was a cake as he says which at least made it seem like a birthday. And I was cold and "a punk" for not asking him to come inside. But you know, he did say thank you for the dinner and the movie so that makes it all fine. Again, he was disappointed though. To be honest, I did and do feel bad and guilty that I couldn't have made his birthday any better. Now I'd love to recall my birthdays from 4 years ago until now but well, that's where the "I'm just disappointed" part comes in and what a waste of space that would be. In the essence of ending this entry though, let's just say that there was me one day on my birthday. I woke up early because he said he was coming. I plucked. I shaved. I took a shower. I dried my hair. I brushed my teeth. I put on make-up. I straightened out my hair. I picked out clothes to wear. "I'm here, come outside". I go outside. I walk. I open the door to his little red car. "Happy birthday!". He leaves. Yes, but you're the disappointed one I forgot and this blog is not supposed to be about me. Anyway, what would I know about being disappointed.

Late

It's late but I have to say I'm more than content right now, I'm happy. I get and like chemistry-- which is the summer class I'm taking right now. Likewise, I'm losing weight and getting fit while at it. Nice to know that the gym can take my nerves and stresses away as I blast on about thirty-five minutes of music every other day and sweat the rest out. My room is coming together too. I've made lists, I've got my schedule down, my books ready for fall, sufficient grades, I like my hair cut, I have my new box of make-up. I like my positivity too-- odd much? Very. And this week is dedicated to One Tree Hill on Monday and the library or at least studying and blogging and the gym. Last week of summer school is here and yet with that, only two more weeks away from fall quarter. Here we go again. At the least, I know what's up this time. I'm liking this... then again, I hope it's not my hormones playing with me since it is that time of the month. Ha, I guess that's just a little too much information. Oh and I have my second blog up. No stresses, no drama, just grillz. Get it? Yeah, it's all about having braces!