Hold on to your hats readers, because for once, I am facing a legitimately new problem! *gasp* (In case you hadn't notice I just ate like a shitload of Twizzlers and I'm bouncing off the fucking walls on an epic sugar high rite about now).

For the first time in a couple months, I don't have a guy I'm crushing on at the moment. As of today, I have survived a week without internet boy. And while I still miss him like crazy, I feel myself getting a little stronger each day. For once, I got my heart battered and didn't feel the need to immediately rush into someone else's arms. I'm not feeling the need to "fill the void" like I usually do when this stuff happens. I feel like I'm adequately over it (which for the record, would normally not happen in a week, but I'd sensed we were ending a while ago and have sort of been preparing myself ever since); or over it enough to start a new relationship at least. And yet, I don't really want one. I like being single. I like being able to flirt with anyone and know that my options are unlimited. It's liberating and exciting.

The downside of single is that I find myself getting bored. I miss that outlet of teenage hormones that is "talking to" a guy. I'm not really feeling the need to try and start anything (lord knows I am sick and tired of getting emotionally invested in things that don't pan out; hell, you're probably tired just reading about all of it), and yet "dating around" feels a little too loose for someone of my minimal experience. The girl who always just wanted a boyfriend is now actually seeking a casual open relationship. Someone to text and hang out with and have fun with, without the drama and the labels. Think about it: you go out, have fun, do what you want, chat it up with whomever, and yet you know you've got that ego-boost of a backup person to chill with later. No drama, minimal emotional attachments, just fun. Right about now I'm going through a phase where I like fun.

So... I asked out one of my guy friends today. He's cute and stuff and he's asked me out before but I turned him down cause I was stuck in that "relationship" state of mind and I just don't see that happening with him. But anyway, we're gonna hang sometime this week. Nice, casual, no strings. Should be fun.

I'm not getting my hopes up too much given my recent track record, but I'll keep ya posted ;)

The Anatomy of a First Kiss

So I'm reading this book today called The Anatomy of a Boyfriend that my friend Hedieh lent me. It's rather smut-tastic. I relate to the main character's plight as she frets over this boy and as they go through their relationship. I can see what she's doing wrong even before she realizes it. I'm thoroughly enjoying the story. The only problem is that I can't seem to shake the thought of how much I wish I knew what it was like to kiss someone. I know this is a weird and trivial concern, especially among everything going on in my life right now, but the main guy in the story, Wes, explained how he'd never had any physical girl experience and how that lack of previous experience only leaves him scared and unprepared when he has future opportunities (if that makes any sense) and I just totally related.

Up until that point in the book, I felt like I had lived the story. The cute meeting, the witty banter, the getting to know each other - I've done that dozens of times. But the thing is, when I get to the part where they expect me to make a move, I have absolutely no idea what to do. Naturally, they don't know this, and the other party usually perceives this as me not liking them. The budding romance is then murderously stabbed to death like a rose chopped from the bush brutally with dull rusty scissors (or something to that effect).

Watching (or reading as the case may be) these two fictitious characters work through that awkward moment and then how the relationship took off from there made me really sad thinking of all the amazing Wes-like guys I could've had if we'd just made it through that moment. But it's like that's always the part where I get stuck. I mean, obviously I know that basically we put are mouths together and that is the structure by which it works, but aside from that I am completely clueless. I didn't exactly have friends in seventh grade when that kinda stuff was the girl gossip, ya know? I've always just kind of tried to maintain the attitude that it will happen when it happens (because it's when people try to force these things that the horror-stories come about). I guess I'm just getting impatient. It's like this big giant secret that the whole world is in on but me. I just hope that someday soon, the right guy and the right opportunity will come about so that I can solve that little mystery and stop obsessing.

Charlie Chaplin would be proud

I think one of my greatest skills is the way that it's the times I'm in the most pain that I make the most of my life. The greater the pain, the happier I am. Because I know that if I pretend to be happy, it might eventually come true. And that if I let that pain in, if only for an instant, I may never get control again.

Happened today. I did so much better than I thought I would. Day #1 without him. 10 months of constant communication left me terrified whether or not I could make it just a day without. But I did. I fought the pain with all my might and in the end, I won. I had a good day, and I was actually really happy for a minute or two.

But then I let it in. I re-read our last letter. Checked his blog to see if he'd posted some message about what a horrible person I am yet. And now, I feel like I can't breathe.

It's really scary to have no one. I don't know when I became so dependent on men. I guess I always have been, I just didn't realize it. I went from being a daddy's girl, to dependent on my best friend, to one crush after another without ever just being independent of male attention.
I'm making a few changes in honor of Lent. I'm giving up simple carbs and reducing my dairy. I'm taking up running on a daily basis again. I'm going to make an effort to do better in school, and at home, and to serve my community more.

I wrote this rather self-hating post a few weeks back (which I deleted shortly afterwords). I think it really made me acknowledge some things, and realize I have a lot of work to do before I can successfully face the big bad world.

I'm making a commitment tomorrow. To the universe (I'm not particularly theistic), to myself, and to you few readers out there. For the next 40 days, I'm going to try to not be so afraid of things. I will not be afraid of failure, or more importantly, success. I am going to give life my all, stand on my own two feet, and have faith that even if I get knocked down, I am strong enough to get back up again.

The Truth of the Matter

I know you have some great belief that you and I were meant to be.

That we will be together forever.

I hate to break it to you, but this is not true.

In fact it is impossible.

In two years,

in five years,

in ten years,

even physically together,
we will not remain the same people and things will not be the same.

It doesn't mean I don't love you,

It doesn't mean I don't value the time we share.

It just means that sometimes I think you forget your reality.


I hate to have to be the cynic in this relationship,

(and you the romantic, my what a gender-role-reversal)

But I grew up in a house where love was not a reality.

You will be the first.

But you will not be the only.

Holding my breath...

It's happening again.
I'm happy.
Life is good, great, fantastic even!
I have a cute boy who likes me, I know that I have a college I can go to next year, my family and I are getting along, I'm motivated in school, life is awesome.
So why is there this gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach?
The one that makes me hold my breath, knowing that if I so much as blink, it will all be gone.
It's really not even paranoia, just a matter of time.
The really sick part?

It will be my fault.

I mess things up. Always have, always will. I'm afraid to be happy. Afraid of success and of love. Because the second you surrender, and let yourself truly be happy, you're practically giving the universe permission to take it away.
Even if fucking up is stupid, at least it's within my control.

Cougar

I seem to have developed a slight crush

...on a younger man.

It happened accidentally.
He asked me to dance. And, in the dark, I mistook him for someone else.

Clearly, I need glasses

or to eat more carrots.

It was kind of my first time dancing "like that" with anyone.
Simply saying "yes" was the most uncharacteristically me thing I have ever done in my life.
I was probably possessed by alien zombie ghosts for a minute or two.
I honestly felt like I was watching someone far more courageous then me when it happened.

But I did say yes.

And I behaved more like a ho than I knew was possible.
Valuable lesson learned: teenage boys like hos.

A lot.

When I figured out he was not who I thought he was,
I wasn't sure whether to laugh,

or cry,

or die of shame.

So I just drank some punch;
And laughed.

A lot.

...Still laughing actually. ^-^

Even if it means he thinks horrible things about my morals, I hope he never finds out.
Cause I actually started talking to him.

And now I kinda like him.

Not to mention, thinking back on the dancing (without boring you with details), he was kind of adorable in the way he was.
Not to mention he likes me;

this is my number one desirable quality in a man.

If only I could get over the fact that he's younger. :/
It's not that he is so much, it's that he looks it.

I do not look it.

Not to mention I still really like the boy I thought he was.
Even though boy "A" seems to be kind of uninterested

...and a douchebag.

I hate douchebags.

They are so ineffective.
Especially in modern times.
I mean, even lemons work better.

But anyway...

angst, angst, angst

Why do I always get the confusing boys?
Maybe if I'm good this year Santa could pretty please bring me one I don't have to question.
That would be nice.


*writing style inspired by the thought process of one Miss Christina Spann

Every once in a while, creative genius sparks my fascination...

Real

This weekend has been amazing. The first time in forever that I had nothing, absolutely nothing I should be doing. I watched movies, did some catching up with an old friend, and even got to sleep in until 11 one morning. ...And then I decided to log into BYU, just on the off-chance that the grade for my Spanish final was up...big fucking mistake. Not only did I not pass, I got six percent worse then on my last final. I literally just stared at the computer screen in disbelief. I have spent six months of my life on that class - studied and slaved over a computer for hours, lied, cheated, battled, and stolen just to pass -and in the end it all means nothing. I guess that's just karma's way of saying "fuck you Katherine" because honestly, that's what I deserve after this weekend; clearly I didn't deserve to be that euphorically happy.

I began to cry. First it was just terror of my mom. How the fuck am I going to tell her? Because this unstoppable hurricane of tears, unmistakeable especially due to my unfortunately pale and rosy complection, is certainly going to give away the fact that something is wrong. I really thought that maybe this was it, that maybe now I would finally get to have a little bit of a life, that maybe for the first time since fall of sophomore year I would be ungrounded (I mean, I've even been getting along with my mom and everything); but I know this is going to be the last straw. At the very least I will be grounded until June, no phone, no car, no prom, and at the very most I could be kicked out outright. I'm literally just shaking in fear of what wrath I'm about to face.

The truly scary thing is the thought of the fact that there are scarier consequences for this than my mother. I may not get into college. I may not have a place to live in a few months, or a job to support myself, or a mode of transportation to get to my job, or hell, even access to a computer to make blog posts. I mean, I have always felt alone in this world, but I am just now realizing that in 174 days I will actually be alone. I may have just lost my entire future on one stupid semester of Spanish 3. Suddenly, I'm not waiting for a college acceptance letter, I'm just hoping for a space at the local community collge. Forget about being a journalist or an executive, let's pray that in this economy I can get a job as a waitress. Suddenly, I'm facing the fact that a future I was once so excited for might be gone- and the actual future has got me absolutely petrified. The future is no longer what I imagined, or hoped for, or planned. Because of one little mis-step, it is terryifyingly, undeniably, devastatingly real.

Endless Sky

Can't think, can't eat, can't sleep. I want the world to stop today. I want a day off from the madness. A day free of college apps and family stress and social drama. I want to go curl up under the covers and stare out the window at the cloudless blue sky and thinking about nothing, absolutely nothing.

I want a day where I don't have to be confused about everything. A day where I can get in my car and pick up my friends and go on an adventure. A day where I don't have to think about the boys I like or love or might like or don't like. A day where I can turn off my ever-thinking brain and just be open to the possibilities.

I can hardly wait for it to be summer again. We're entering that chilly late January period which means spring is just around the corner. I can't wait for shorts and tanning, and reading in the tall grass beneath the endless sky. For sunshine that tickles your toes. For possibility, for adventures.

18 is coming. In 177 days to be exact. I am both scared to leave the comfy pink cocoon of my life as it is, and excited to spread my wings - adventure is out there. I made a promise to myself the other day: I will never waste a day of my life. So many years I have spent, endless days in my room, wishing I could be out having fun, making my own choices.

I want to live. Not just exist, but really live. And when I finally get that chance I'm never going to let my freedom go to waste.

Not Studying for Finals

So this week something very important happened. After three long, desolate, nearly Saharan weeks, I got internet on my computer again. Naturally, it was time to cause a ruckus. But aside from annoying the shit out of strangers, stalking photo web-sites, and being indirectly cyber-bullied (no es bueno), I watched movies. A lot of movies. As a matter of fact I am contemplating spending the next four days of my very free life watching as many movies as I possibly can. And in a very non-traditional sense, I would like to review, not only the plots, but what I have learned:

• Obsessed (4) -In one sentence: crazy ass white chick tries to fuck up some black dudes life. Homegirl was a straight-up 51/50, no lie. Definitely not the greatest movie of my life, but it had some good moments of thrills and definately kept me entertained for a few hours. Lessons learned: the first time that sexy girl at the office tries to rape you, let someone know & do not be a chicken shit babysitter too scared to do her job cause you need to get back to your tech-fest.
  
• The Babysitters (5) - Not only is this one of the most twisted films I have ever seen, it is also one of my favorites. Basically this high school girl finds herself accidentally starting a prositution ring in which her friends/girls/hos/whatever-you-want-to-call-them babysit a married mans kids and then have sex with him while he's giving them a ride home (well not while he's driving cause that'd be dangerous; they usually at least pull over, haha); until eventually some whorey little freshman get involved and fuck up the opperation. The whole film is just this amazing post-grundge indie depiction of adolescence. This girl starts out as a tame little wall flower, and emotionless sex combined with the power and greed of money as well as the fear of legal trouble corrupted, jade, and cheat her out of her innonce and a normal life; and even in these incredible complex adult situations she finds herself in and no matter how grown up you come to believe she is, no matter how grown up any teenager is, by the end of the film you come to realize that she is in way over her head - teenagers can look, walk, talk, act, think, and even feel like adults, but they are not adults. There are so many more points I could make about this movie but honestly, if you can handle some rather crude language and sex scences I recommened watching it yourself - this film definately leaves you thinking.
  
• Passengers (3)- I was initially a bit upset because the summary of this film made it sound like a three but the majority of it's emphasis was on a rather unusual love story. Dispite some misrepresentation however, this was actually a decent film. Rather unconventionally cute love story about two people who seem as if they belonged together in any reality. The overly-chesy ending killed it a bit, but there were lots of good messages about coping mechanisms not to mention Anne Hathaway did a wonderful job.
• Sex and Death 101 (4)- Another movie that ended differently than I expected. It was not the best film I've ever seen (certainly a lot of unknown actors) but overall I like it. It discussed a lot of common themes about life and destiny and making your own fate with out being repetitive. So might argue it was slightly morbid, but I rather enjoyed the various plot twists. Worth watching.
• Water Lillies (5)- Aside from The Babysitters, this is the most fucked up love story I've seen since The Other Boelyn Girl. The basic plot is about the romanctic escapades of two best friends: Marie and other-girl-whose name-I-didn't-really-care-about-so-lets-call-her-Nan-cause-she-kinda-looks-like-my-fat-aunt, and this on-again off-again couple Floraine and Francios (did I mention this was a French film?). So "Nan" is quite obsessed with Francois who is yet another victim of the lustful Floraine. Throughout the film Nan's best friend Marie is enduring this personal struggle of realizing and embrassing her homosexuality as she falls in love with Florine. Florine is this epervescent temptress who we never really understand; she seems geniune at moments with her feeling for both Francois and Marie, but the underlying thought seems to be is that what Florine really cares about is Florine. Technically it would be inaccurate to say that both Nan and Marie lose their virginity, but they do both certainly loose there innoncence as they learn that love hurts, and sometimes no matter how desperately you beg and plead, even the most apparently perfect of people may never be what you want them to be - you can either take them as they are an accept the torment, or find the courage through your heartache to move on (and ultimately it seems your best friend will be their for you no matter what you decide). Not your standard family film (although for a French film, especially considering the subject matter, it was extremly tame), but it was definately intriguing.
• Sugar & Spice (3)- I'm going to admit, I am biased - I have never not loved a cheerleader movie (...well except for those horrible attempts at Bring It On sequels) nor have I disliked many surrounding popular kids. While this happy-go-lucky tale was definately more glitz than depth and a definate low in comparassion to scadal-rific classics like Jawbreaker and The Heathers, it was definately a decent teen film. The characters were relatively static, but they each had unique and well-woven quirks that intertwined to add some depth to an otherwise shallow plot. Not bad if you feel like a few well-knowns in a teeny-bopper flick.

I will probably add more to this list tomorrow when I finish watching a few, so stay tuned.