I just wanna take a bath/there’s a love letter in my chocolate bar

I remember absolutely nothing from my wisdom tooth extraction. I remember a group of dentists (or would you call them surgeons? dentist surgeons?) swarming over me as they put the IV in me, the nice lady dentist person told me I’d fall asleep pretty quick. I remember thinking i’m totally not gonna fall asleep. I don’t even nap. They took my phone and my music. And then after that, nada.

 

I don’t even remember ending up in a different chair or a different room but I do remember laughing my head off. My sister cried when she woke up from anesthetize. I laughed. I laughed in the car and a little bit on the couch at Mom and Steve’s place. I made my Mom promise to record me while I was all dopey on drugs, but of course she screwed up and didn’t do it. I wasn’t surprised. She’s late, she just forgot, she overslept, she didn’t know how to, she just didn’t feel like it, she would BUT-it’s the same excuse for anything.

So what have I done for the past 3 days , secluded from the world? All this time on my hands to do-I don’t know, maybe my college applications due next month?

I’ve been taking baths.

I watched Jaws, in the bathtub, which I wouldn’t really recommended. Then I watched Chicago. I’ve been living in this happy bubble (bath) where I’m neglecting the fact that I need to email my AP Lit teacher because he expects emails from his students all most everyday, I need to actually study the map of the U.S (hey-it isn’t my fault. The school system has failed me), there’s a midterm for UCSD Bio on Friday, I’m taking a test on “The Things They Carried” when I return from school, I still have to do all my math homework and yada yada. It’s really funny, because this is my last year of high school, and I’ve been messing up more than I ever had in school. Instead of doing my work I spend more time curled up in a ball. I daydream about college, but can’t get myself to actually apply or write a personal statement. I complain about not having enough time, and when I do I fail to rise to the occasion. Maybe I’m lazy. Maybe it’s because I’m depressed. Maybe I should eat the extra dark 77% chocolate bar in my bag with a love poem in it.

This is not the year to start getting involved with a boy. What’s the point? He wants to stay in our city, and I’m itching to leave. What’s the point of starting anything if in eight months (considering I don’t screw it up/ I have enough money to go/AKA if all goes according to plan) I’ll be busting outta there in Sacramento or San Francisco? One second I think he likes me, the next second I think he really likes my best friend. They hang out a lot,  I get jealous. Real, BURNING, jealousy but I don’t say anything because I don’t want to be that girl. That girl who’s 30 minutes away at her Mom’s fiancee’s house in bed, while her best friend is watching Stranger Things” with the guy who literally told this girl he liked her on Monday. He didn’t say because she was pretty, beautiful, smart, or funny, he said because she was kind and caring and sweet and knew just what to say to pick him up when he cuts himself down. I like that better than a guy thinking I’m pretty, but at the same time, my insecure ass wants him to say I’m pretty.

I wish that I wrote more. I should write everyday. Life is spinning by pretty quick. Being seventeen is a blur. All of a sudden all the pieces are coming together and it’s sink or swim.

 

 

 

Advertisements

i haven’t slept since school started

I shared a big plate of carne aside fries from Cotijas  with a boy.

I raced today, didn’t get a medal, but it didn’t matter.

I haven’t been sleeping, even though I’m really tired.

 

The boy we can call Bear. I don’t know what Bear see’s in me. He was into this completely gorgeous, blonde (now blue haired), big blue eyes, perfect skin, girl who moved away a while ago, but is coming home at the end of senior year. I look nothing like her. He’s so perfect. This isn’t going to work.  I’m not Hannah.

 

Running sucked and it didn’t. I tried for the first mile, then the last mile I just set my own slow pace. Recovery is a long process. I don’t know if I’ll ever be where I once was.

 

I wish I could sleep. I’d feel better. My head would be clearer. I’d look a lot better.

 

I’m so tired during the day, but at night I’m completely restless.

 

I haven’t been writing much. There’s so much more to say.

 

stop drinking coffee at 4 in the afternoon

my eyes are incredibly heavy and my body is impossibly awake. It’s only 1034 pm on a Tuesday, but externally I’m crashing. I killed it at practice today. I ran my heart out. I was right up there with the Varsity pack as we ran through sprinklers while our coach timed us for our 800s. My sports bra was inside out. I’m on my period. But I made it a point to intentionally pass Ryan and Ethan. I felt vengeful. Z and I once spontaneously showed up at Ethan’s house bearing jello just so we could say hi to his dog.

Z’s fantasy:

We show up at Ethan’s house. We get to pet his dog. We all play cards. We make jello. We all hang out.

What actually happened:

Ethan is on his phone giving us one word answers to questions we ask him like: “Yes.” “No.” “Fun.” “Yeah.” Z and I sit on the floor patting his dog and talking to it. We sit there for about 15 minutes in an uncomfortable silence; I give up trying to break the ice. Ethan says he has to go to a robotics meeting, so we leave. Ethan hops in his car and we watch him drive away. Z checks her phone a couple minutes later and SnapChat tells her he’s back at his house. Must have been a quick robotics meeting. 

  I haven’t run in four days; legs are the painfully good kind of sore.

There is this one song I’ve been listening to on repeat: Sea Creatures by SOAK. I’m in love. It’s been filling my summer mornings and nights. I listen to it when I walk the two pups down the street. They’re really dumb. Sammy always ends up peeing on Oscar because Oscar likes to smush himself right up beside him.

In six days I’ll be in San Francisco.

A couple days ago I went to the mall with a friend I haven’t hung out with in three years. So much has changed with the both of us, I don’t think we’ll ever be as close as we used to be. Too much time has passed.

I got home at midnight from a party. We were playing UNO. It was brilliant.

I want to sleep.

I want chocolate.

Tomorrow is my permit test.

 

Reasons to never go outside: ever

Thursday I went to the movies with an odd number of people. Seven people. My friend Z hates odd numbers. I honestly didn’t think that she’d show.

I have another friend who I can always count on to be brutally honest. We were in my pool, resting our elbows on the blue tiles while our bodies dangled in the water, when I turned to her and said: “Hey, can I tell you something?”

“You’re bisexual.”

“WHAT.”

*************************************************************************************

After lots of deep thinking and self analysis I realized:

She’s right.

*************************************************************************************

But back to the point of this whole thing: it’s safer to stay inside on the computer than face the outside world with actual people.

I suck at hanging around large groups of people. ESPECIALLY if I am NOT close to you. If I’m not close to you, I’m just going to assume you hate me.

(what a whiny pessimistic teenager ^^^^^^^)

((you’re right))

Z, K, and I met up at Smashburger with two couples, and me being the quiet one-mostly stayed quiet. In situations like these I either feel really awkward and uncomfortable or I say something and get talked over because my voice is so soft. When I do talk: everything that comes out feels dumb and/or pointless or I start thinking lovely thoughts like:

WHY AM I ON PLANET EARTH !?

Yay anxiety and depression!

The movie was Spiderman. The highlight of the movie was Z and I having a popcorn war in the theater.

When everyone was leaving, I saw N look over at me a bit strangely. A sort of: what are ya doing here look or maybe it was more of a: I cannot figure this weird quiet girl out who only talks to people she knows really well and sort of blows off other people.

I’m not trying to be rude, mean, or exclusive-just when I reach out-I feel like there’s already a wall up there. Like the other person already assumes I’m a waste of time. I know so many people who do, so what’s one more?

I have some issues.

But let’s talk about tonight. Tonight I went to a concert. I went to go see my friend’s ban play. K and I were laying out on the grass on top of this big purple blanket I brought, taking little sips of a cappuccino even though it was 5 pm. Bear had been texting me earlier that day. I have to admit, I was kinda excited to see him. We aren’t really close, but I’ves always wanted to be close to him. He’s a really sweet empathetic guy.

Bear and SeSe showed up, but by that time our blanket was crowded with Meg and her brothers friends. SeSe and I are not really friends. He’s the funniest. Life of the party. That kind of guy, but every time I look at him I remember how in the 7th grade he turned to me one day and said:

“No one is going to remember you. You’re so quiet.”

Thanks, I know.

So it was kind of awkward. We couldn’t really talk to the much. The music was really loud ( we were sitting closet to the stage) plus our backs were to them since there wasn’t enough room for them to sit by us.

SeSe only talks to me really when there is no one else better around. See I know this, because I know him. He wants to talk and flirt with the pretty girls. And I’m not a pretty girl.

I always feel like the outsider in groups. I just never feel like I fully belong there, and secretly I know that other people are wondering what the heck I’m doing there. I ask myself the same thing a lot.

Dancing was fun, even if you are a white girl with zero rhythm.

I just wish I didn’t feel so alien in my own body.

A boy from my school was staring at me at the dance floor, but I don’t think it was meant in an attractive way. Like I said: no rhythm. Like I also said: not pretty. I was sunburned today on my face too.

Bear and I hardly talked too. When everyone was splitting up after the last song was played at 9:30 I just turned to him with a smile and said: “Bye.”

That was about it.

We talked a bit at Subway, but mostly K and I just talked to each other. Or Z. Or we kinda just listened in silence.

We’re both socially awkward.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

11:42 pm

 

I’m laying on the couch, downstairs.

I can’t sleep.

It’s 11:45 now.

I just snuck upstairs and made myself a cutie and peanut butter snack. I was extra quiet, and I did it all in the dark. I accidentally grabbed Dad’s peanut butter, Jiff, instead of my regular one. I knew it was Jiff by the smell. Sweet, sweet, chemically, plastic. I stealthily crept back in the cupboard in search of my all natural one.

We have a large glass window upstairs that pretty much covers our entire wall. I could see the slough from my house, my old middle school, tons of apartments all lit up like it was Christmas, Seaworld, the moon, I could see flashing colors of cars driving by; the world at night is a lot more colorful than it is during the day, or at least I think so. I felt oddly safe eating my cuties and peanut butter with a fork in the secret cover of complete darkness. It felt like I was the only person awake in the world right now. A lovely thought.

Hello friend

It’s me

Do you remember me?

 

It’s 12:06 am.

 

From rapunzel to alice in wonderland

GOOGLE CHAT W/ MY HIGHER SELF

Higher self: Who do u think u r?
High self: U can’t post twice in a day!

HS: U annoyed the world enough today, my friend. Just go back to alternating between watching “Reign”, reading “Eat, Pray Love”, and wearing your pajamas.

Me: No I really want to blog. Because my life is just so incredibly interesting and this helps me feel less lonely. Plus isn’t everybody interested in the life of a seventeen year old girl who mostly just goes to school, procrastinates too much, does homework until midnight, freaks out about the future, can’t afford college, & worries about everything?

HS: Lol guuurl

HS: U got some problems

*************************************************************************************

The other day my friends’ and I were discussing what disney princesses we would be. S would be Jasmine, for obvious reasons. A would be Ana from Frozen, E would be Mulan because she does jiu jitsu and is badass, J would be Belle, and I am Alice in wonderland.

Who isn’t a princess, but that’s kind of the whole point.

Flashback to when I was thirteen discussing disney princesses with a “supposedly” friend. We walked every morning to school together, along with our old friend Scout. This girl, let’s call her Em, said that she was Sleeping Beauty ( I remember feeling disappointment because I’d secretly wanted to be Sleeping Beauty), Scout was Pocahontas, and I was Rapunzel-because I was “locked up in my own life”. I remember letting this sink in and then-

“Wait-what? What do you mean by ‘locked up in my own life’?”

She gave me an incredibly vague answer, but I could see it on her face. Oh sweetie. You’re just so naive, not so subtle, always rambling about unimportant things, you don’t know what you’re doing honey; You just don’t get it like I do. You’re not really “here”. 

And no, this is not me assuming anything. She used to say things like this to me. That’s why she was a “supposedly” friend. Back hand compliments. Snide to point out that she was in a few higher classes than me. I didn’t know as many things as she did. I was just annoying and in the way. I know all of this, and I can’t help but say I was a tiny bit relieved when she moved away. She didn’t like me that much.

Now I’m Alice in Wonderland. Alice was also off in her own fantasy world, curious about everything, small, like a little girl, & a dreamer. I’d rather be her than Rapunzel.

It’s true, I have to admit. One foot on Earth, the other in space. I often mix my fantasies with reality-and I prefer it that way. Call me a dreamer, call me a fool, but I’d rather be ‘up there’ then ‘down here’.

What the hell does it mean to look like a jennifer ?

The school nurse keeps on thinking my name is Jennifer.

I asked my friends: “Do I look life a Jennifer?”

S: Yes

K: I can see it

M: Totally

N: Yeah

J: Nope

Hopefully we’re talking about Jennifer Lawerence right?

I saw the school  nurse later at Pure Thai. My Dad picked me up at lunch to take me home. I’ve got a stuffy nose and sore throat. No fever, but I felt oddly warm. I asked him if we could grab some Thai food on the way home, and the nurse was there waiting to pick up some fried rice. I’d seen her just about fifteen minutes before hand so it was a little awkward to say the least. We all stood together and made small talk. She’d told me she’d seen some students on her way over here, but she pretended not to see them for peace of mind. I wonder if she thought I was lying about being sick just so I could eat some Pad Thai at my house.

And today I’m home listening to Bored by Billie Eilish. Except I’m not bored. I’m enjoying Netflixing episode after episode of Gossip Girl, and laying curled up in my bed.

My teacher slipped me on a note on Monday telling me to “Find my voice” during our class discussion about “East of Eden”. I didn’t say anything during the discussion. Public speaking really freaks me out. I know that I could speak up, if I really had to, but I choose not to. I feel like I’ve disappointed her. Today was supposed to be another class discussion on it, but here I am.

Also there’s a race today. J would have actually been there since her sister’s running. It would have been fun to hang out with her and A. I can’t see myself sniffing and coughing through the two mile though.

Monday night A texted me that she was coming over. It was 8:30. I sent back: Ok! You ok? Immediately she called me. She was crying onto the phone that she was with her boyfriend and they were stopping by my house. Several scenarios flew through my mind: parents getting a divorce, cat died, her boyfriend and her are splitting, something happened to her brother….

I sat outside of my house and waited. I vaguely saw them walking down the hill in the dark; I ran over to meet them. A smiled, but she had tears in her eyes. I gave her a hug and she brokenly exclaimed that Chika had died. Chika is the cat. Her first and only pet. I held her and told her I was sorry. Me, T, and A started to walk. T was holding her hand, my arm was around her shoulder. We went to the park and talked. I don’t think anything I said was really making her feel better. She kept apologizing for her eyes welling up and for pulling me out of my house. That’s my best friend for you; always apologizing for things she doesn’t need to be sorry for. It was a sad night.

 

This Saturday I’m going over Steve’s house for the first time. I don’t know what to expect. Apparently Saturday Steve and my Mom are dining with my doctor (her boss) and husband. So my sister and I will stay alone at his house. It’s kinda weird that it’s only going to be the second time I’ll be seeing him and I’m already “moving in” to his house. I don’t know. We’re going to some country club on Sunday for lunch? My Mom kept reminding me on the phone to

“Make sure you’re back at your Dad’s house by 12:30 because I have a very very important and expensive hair appointment at 2.” 

She keeps calling me and warning me about it. Yes Mom I get it. I will hopefully be back at 12:30 from the refugee center, but no offense, it’s a lot more important than the grey hairs you’re getting highlighted. Okay?

 

I’m feeling kinda lonely right now. I wish I had someone to cuddle with. That’s so cheesy oh my goodness. I’m watching too many rom coms. Help me.

Procrastination at it’s finest, The city of San Fran, & 2 am phone calls

I have math homework to do, half a book of East of Eden to read, two chapters of APUSH to read, essay questions,; to make it short: a whole lotta stuff. And I have all of tonight, and all of tomorrow. Except all of today all I’ve accomplished to do that’s even close to school related is look at my math homework. (Read: LOOK AT IT), and read 30 pages of E & E.

I hung out with M for a bit.

Last night, I swear to you, I planned on doing some actual work. Some family drama went down, I got a little dramatic, I admit, so I went over to Z’s house to vent. How many friends do you have that you can just call, and they come home to listen to you, then go back to a bonfire?

I love her.

Kahlil called me last night at 9. I was in bed, reading E of E, getting ready and cozy for an early night of bed. This entire week I’ve been waking up at 6am on A’s brothers couch, going out and exploring San Fran and colleges, and returning late at 10:45 or 11. So I was ready for a nice night of purple flannel pajamas. I looked at my phone, (the reason of my procrastination….problems, along with the computer ((the computer that I type on as we speak & Netflix on too)), and answered. We do this thing where we call each other out of the blue and catch up, not talk for many months, then do that whole thing again.

Everything we talk about is just a big soup of weird, funny, life things. I can’t say anything specific, because nothing ever was.

Weird thing: but Friday at the store I was buying some weird organic dairy free juice (wow girl, so ironic. You bought this after you had cheese and crackers, but now you’re dairy free?) and as I was walking down the aisle with my earbuds in some man saw me and said: “Clear the runway! Little girl coming through!”

Little girl? How old do you think I am dude?

According to a lot of people: young. I’ve got a baby face, and I’m short. Everybody exclaims from time to time: “You’re so cute!!!!” when I don’t even know why ? Or how?

I thought I was going to write more about San Fran and such, but I’m getting a bit tired. I will finish this episode, then I swear to God I will almost finish E of E. And maybe call Kahlil back, because he called me again.

Olive Oil in my hair/Kansas City in my earbuds

Wednesday 3/22/17 11:41 am 

I’m sitting on the bathroom floor right now with a shower cap on my head and some thick sticky olive oil smothered all over my hair…

A bitch gave me lice.

I hug too many people. It’s a problem. I hug my friends, I hug my English teacher, I hug my family (sometimes). I shudder to think about how many people I’ve infected. Or how many people infected me. The ultimate question of WHO DONE IT !!?!? is impossible to answer.

Thursday 3/23/17 

I contemplated skipping school today. I know it’s paranoia and all the lice are gone (I washed my hair with QuitNit 3 times, used dishwasher soap, olive oil, an evil small comb, blow dried and straightened my hair), but my head feels itchy still. Even though there’s nothing, absolutely nothing, there. I can feel the ghosts of the dead parasites crawling on my head.

I admit. The track meet may have had a tiny, really really small, slice of a reason on the pizza of Don’t Go To School Today That’s A Good Idea.

But I did.

And I’m proud. 6:21 on the mile? Not bad for someone who’s still trying to recover from sophomore year. Freshman year I was one of the best on the team with a 6:01 mile, Sophomore year was just, well, embarrassing. This year? I’m getting there. I died a little inside on the two mile though.

My sweet friend ,Z, came to the meet. I love her. She came to my last XC race and brought me some pasta she had cooked because she knew I’d be hungry. IF THAT’S NOT TRUE FRIENDSHIP I DON’T KNOW WHAT IS.

I walked home, got frustrated at my Dad for only saying this when I came in the door (tired, sweaty, unbelievably tired):

“Go do the dishes.”

It’s never: “How’d it go?”
It’s never: “How are you?”

“How was your day?’

“Wish I could have been there!”

“Good job!”

“How was school?”

It’s either:

A) Do the dishes

B) I noticed a sock on your bedroom floor this morning

C) Get your laundry out of the dryer

He doesn’t care, and he doesn’t bother to pretend to be interesting in anything I do anyway. It’s okay. I’m over it.

Friday 3/24

I met a cat named Knives. No lie. I can imagine all sorts of fun that could be had with a cat named Knives.

(Holding Knives) “You guy’s I’ve got Knives!”

“Would you like to meet Knives?”

“I like Knives.”

“I love Knives.”

Ariel and I buried our feet in the wet sand and watched the ocean water after we had our fun with Knives. I was happy our coach sent us on a beach run. Nobody else actually went in the water but me. And when I say in I mean completely under. Everyone was worried about getting their hair wet, but I just dunked under that freezing cold water and came up for air. I feel alive in the cold. I love it as much as I love Knives.

I went to the beach a second time that day with K, J, and A. We had to cross many cliffs to get down to the water. I was wrapped up in my fuzzy red heart blanket because the wind was pretty brutal. I looked like a weird burrito type thing, but I was warm. The waves down there were a lot harder and a lot more dangerous than the ones at the other beach. We’d kneel on the sand and wait to see who’d get knocked down first by the biggest waves. We found sand crabs in the dirt. I went under the water a few times, but I was extremely cautious. The tide was high and I couldn’t see the rocks, but I knew they were around where we were.

After we got tired of this we walked 0.9 miles to StreetCar Merchants of Fried Chicken, Doughnuts & Coffee. It took us half an hour to walk 0.9 miles. That’s just sad. A and I belted out songs the whole way: “Wrecking ball”, “Don’t Stop Believing”, “Hello”, “We’re All In This Together”; J didn’t sing but K joined in. The pedestrians were highly amused, which just made us turn it up a notch.

I got a Cafe Au Lait, the only coffee I get besides a Hazelnut Latte, along with J & K. A felt like some hot chocolate (though to be honest, that girl already runs off sugar).

Saturday 3/25

I was supposed to drive up to San Francisco today with a friend, but it’s been changed to tomorrow. Gives me more time to pack though. Today at this outdoor hiking clothing store my Dad goes to to get this special grey shirt with “special buttons” (???) (even though he doesn’t even hike) the cashier man made an interesting comment. He asked us if we wanted bags, we said no (they cost 10 cents a bag, usually) and he said: “Are you sure? We have….paper bags….” (pulls out a paper bag, with flourish, and a deep voice). I blinked. He said:
“I was channeling my inner James Bond…”

Me: “This paper bag, should you choose to accept it…”

Nobody laughed.

I got another Cafe Au Lait today. I drank it at 3pm at the mall. Which explains why I’m writing all this at 1:24 am on Sunday 3/26. At 7am sharp I’m being picked up to begin the drive down to San Fran. I’m bringing my notepad to document more interesting stuff.

As of now caffeine runs in my veins, Kansas city in my ears- listen to it please. I beg of you.