Letter to My Freshman Self

Dear Freshman Self,

First off, I know you'll doubt this is actually me. You. Whatever. Some proof? In the middle of eighth grade, you started a slam book and became closer friends with K. Within, you discussed boys, K's falling-out with M, and science class (in science class- you/we passed it back and forth like crazy; you'll be amused to discover that now, four years after the slam book, K and I have been assigned to sit next to each other in Bio II, and she still rants to me about stuff and things). It was like controlled gossip. Oh, not enough proof? God, I'm a hell of a jaded freshman. One of your friends- L- had a sex dream about your seventh grade English teacher, in the seventh grade. Enough proof? Yeah, I thought so. Now stop thinking about your teacher like that. Stop it. Stop. Okay, moving on- hey, I told you to stop!

Second off, I'd like to congratulate you. You've made it through the tough part, babe. I know you're not sure about it and that you've heard horror stories, but it's really so, so much better than middle school ever had a chance at being, and everything beats elementary school, right? (Elementary does have one advantage high school doesn't: nap time. It doesn't seem like anything now, but by senior year, you'll be begging teachers to let you nap. Spoiler alert, they won't let you.)

Seriously, though, high school will kick ass. There's a higher level of freedom. It won't feel like it at times- hell, it'll feel like they're giving you the responsibilities of an adult with all the trust and liberty of a third grader. And sometimes, that'll be true. Other times, you'll be having the time of your life. Between super-fun classes, friends, and... uhm... the school food (there exists a seniors-only tradition of throwing apples at the brick wall outside the cafeteria), the years will fly by.

Your freshman year will be a piece of cake, trust me. Everyone has the basic classes, and you'll throw in Career Management as well. The teacher is a silly old fart, and he'll have you draw lots of pictures. Easy A. Plus, you'll move in with Mother, and Mrs. A will start to take you to school! Yes, you'll have fallen out of love with her son by that point, you silly goose.

Speaking of love- freshman year, you'll be clear. Your friends will involve themselves with others, but other than an ill-fated, super-chaperoned movie date with McN (spoiler alert, you smash your fingers in the car door and spill nacho cheese on your way in), you'll keep on flying solo. Sophomore year, you'll screw yourself over. You'll say "I love you" without meaning it and because you're scared. He'll say it after, like, three days! And you'll break up after, like, two weeks! And then you'll go back to him, because you're a dumbshit. It'll all work out eventually, though. He's a dick, and you'll figure that out. Also sophomore year, you'll start to have a thing for BK. Yes, he was the first guy to call you a bitch. Yes, you and he made up freshman year. Yes, he has magnificent hair. Yes, he likes you, too. Yes, RD will call you crazy. Yes, you're crazy. BK is not for you, no matter how great the terrible hour-long television dramas he recommend are.

At the very end of sophomore year, you'll meet a nice boy. You'll be entranced with him. He's a junior. He's a loner. You'll attempt to Facebook stalk him, but you won't find him until summertime. You and he will be enchanted by one another: you'll stay up IMing on Facebook until 4 AM a few times! He'll suck you into his nerdy online RPGs! He'll hit on you with Star Trek references! It'll be wonderful. Have fun talking with him.

From there on, no more spoilers. I don't want to ruin a good time by spoiling the ending, and I don't want to draw out a lengthy, emotional explanation of how you'll get from there to where I am today.

By the way, make sure to put in the Governor's School applications on time November of your junior year! It's worth it. You'll have the time of your life. You'll make new friends. You'll figure out what you do and don't want that you do or don't have.

Oh, and make sure to remember to start putting in your applications on time your senior year instead of writing imaginary letters to your freshman self. Shit's important!

With much love and luck,

Your senior self

Broke Up

Oh, hey there. So Kirby and I broke up.

I'm starting my senior year in high school, and I need to focus. He's starting his freshman year of college, and he needs to not be weighed down by me.

We're better as friends anyways.

I broke up with him.

Relationship Types I've Observed

Better as Friends


Example: Bad Boy and I, Hammy and Ember


Description: One of the two is romantically interested in the other. The other is flattered by the attention- so flattered, in fact, that he or she begins to return the feelings. They date, but one or the other eventually realized they were only in it for the feelings they were getting out of it and that the two would be better off friends.

How long does it last? Three weeks to a month.

Only There for the Title


Example: Drummer and I, Bad Boy and Ember

Description: At least one of the two parties involved is in it only for the title of Boyfriend or Girlfriend. They don't find the other person irresistible; they just really want to be in a relationship, and it doesn't necessarily matter with whom. Eventually one or both parties realize that the whole thing is pretty much a sham devoid of any actual emotional involvement.

How long does it last? One to two weeks.

Potential for Sexytimes?


Example: Donkey and Ember, Whiny Bitch and I

Description: One party is emotionally involved while the other is simply looking for someone to easily manipulate into sex. It isn't always the male looking for sexytimes, but I have yet to see a female in that position (perhaps I'm just too young for my social group to have that happen yet). Generally the emotionally involved party ends up heartbroken regardless of if they give in or not (you'll be glad to hear that neither Ember nor I gave in).

How long does it last? It really depends on how long it takes for the sexytimes-craving party to make it clear that's what he or she is there for. A couple of weeks, maximum.

Stuck in Tar


Example: Xeno and HipsterGurl

Description: Both parties are emotionally involved in the start. Seems healthy, right? Then one party starts getting jealous of the other person's friends. That party is hurt when the other person doesn't talk on the phone for two hours a night. That party is jealous when the other person spends time with people other than mutual friends, and even with mutual friends if that's without the jealousy-prone party. The jealous party becomes an emotional wreck, telling the other person that this relationship is his or her life and that life would be meaningless without it and that this has been the only thing keeping that person sane. The non-jealousy-prone party is scared, and it takes him or her months to work up the nerve to break it off. Even after the breakup, the jealousy-prone party will pretend inside his or her head that the two are still in a relationship, much to the chagrin of every other fucking person around him or her.

How long does it last? Six to twelve months, depending on the level of clinginess and the severity of the threats of what will happen should the relationship end.

Who Are You?


Example: Guillermo and Crazy Bitch, Whiny Bitch and I

Description: These two don't know each other very well when they start dating. They weren't friends for a while first- maybe they met through a mutual friend, maybe they met at a party, but they haven't known each other for more than a few days when one asks the other out. Sometimes they hit it off and all is well, but other times one party or the other realizes what kind of crazy they're dealing with.

How long does it last? Two weeks to two months, depending on the level of crazy.

Forever Fighting


Example: The Calculus Couple

Description: These two never stop fucking fighting and nagging at each other. "Babe, how could you mess that up?" "Ugh, your hair is getting too long." "That wasn't rude, it was perfectly justified." It doesn't look that bad as text, but when it's said with the level of exasperated disdain these two manage, and when it's this constant (to the point that when someone asks a friend of the two where they are, that friend replies with "Off somewhere arguing about some stupid bullshit, I'm sure.") it's emotionally scarring even for those not in the relationship but simply in its general proximity.

How long does it last? If the two don't realize what's going on, upwards of a year.

-------

Well, that does it for now. No comment on the shape of mine and Kirby's relationship- it's going well, and I don't want to give that shit a description or a timeframe. That would just be depressing, you know?

Looking back at the examples and seeing how many of them include me makes this feel like the Taylor Swift song of blog posts.

Anyways, what kind of relationships have you been in, readers? Do you have any suggestions for additional types or subtypes? Reply with a comment!

Falling

Someone- though I certainly have no idea who- once said, "Love is giving someone the power to destroy you, but trusting them not to."

I've never given someone in whom I was romantically interested that level of trust. If things didn't work out, I didn't want to be left with a broken heart. And, invariably, things wouldn't work out (generally with me being the one to end things).

So when I got past that one-month mark in my current relationship without having qualms about the relationship or contemplating dumping him or anything of the sort, it struck something in me. For about a week, I distanced myself from the world while I considered the situation. I wasn't finding myself fantasizing about future relationships, I didn't find everything he did irritating, none of that.

I'd previously come to the conclusion that because my biological dad and my mother separated when I was two (and I haven't seen him face-to-face since), and then my mother and the man who raised me separated when I was thirteen, and then later my mother and her fiance broke things off, I have a bit of a commitment issue. I'm always looking forward, at the end, at what is going to wrong and fuck things up to permanently end the relationship. Because with every other guy, I'd caught myself doing that (if I hadn't already lost interest).

But with this guy... instead of picturing us fighting when it's time to go off to college, I picture us discussing things, and going to colleges near each other. He acts like we're going to be together forever- get married, have kids, the whole spiel- and it doesn't bother me like it always did with everyone else.

My "Type" (or: Why I'm Dating My Boyfriend)

My "type" has apparently undergone a drastic change. If, six months ago, you had described my current boyfriend (of three weeks so far) and asked if I'd date someone like that, I probably would have given an emphatic, "Hell no."

He smokes. He failed Biology. He isn't taking any AP classes. He used to be quite the right-winger.* He sometimes often mixes up "your" and "you're." He was Church of Christ for the longest time.**

But you know what? We've known each other for years, and have been good friends for a couple of those. A few months ago, I was going through some rough emotional times (including things that I posted on this blog and things that I couldn't quite put into written words) and he was the first one I thought to call, crying, when I needed it. He and I can talk for hours at a time on the phone. He can make me laugh when I'm feeling like shit. We have the same sense of humor. He knows that occasionally I need a bit of space.

Outwardly, we're very different. But if you look a little bit further inside, I think we match pretty well.

*He recently stated that he would totally marry Jon Stewart. So there's that.

**Now he's a very tolerant agnostic, probably agnostic theist if he had to choose, who frequently jokes about gay sex, Jesus, gay sex with Jesus, and everything else my friends and I are going to Hell for joking about.

My "Perfect" Guy

I swear, this should be the last guy-central post for a while, my darlings. The one I posted about last night? Yeah, I've been thinking about it, and no. See, that's what does me in: thinking. Anyways.

To entertain myself, I've been taking these quizzes to see what my perfect guy would be like. Of course, most of them require you to have a certain amount of knowledge about him anyways in order to answer the questions. Based on the questions and my answers, he's a vague idea of my "perfect" guy. (Random aside: it's weird to think that my future husband- or husbands, if I'm anything like my mother, hehe- is out there somewhere. God knows what he's going through.)

He's definitely good with words. Witty is a good word to describe him. He's funny, for sure. Not into slapstick, much more into smart and clever humor. And sex jokes. He's not the best kisser in the world, but it's enough to make me feel alive. He's tall enough for me to at least rest my chin on his shoulder comfortably while dancing. His friends are fairly geeky, but I like them and they like me. He wouldn't abandon them to spend all his time with me; the very idea of that is sort of offensive to him, really. He's probably good at math. Sexual enough that when I make an innuendo he'll be able to shoot one right back at me, but not so overtly sexual that it's uncomfortable. Definitely someone with whom I could talk about more spiritual things. He's open-minded enough not to mind my antics, but grounded enough to know when to pull me back into the real world. One of those guys that always seems to have reading material on him, whether it's a book, a magazine, or a news article he pulled up on his phone. He can definitely make it through an issue of Wired! A bit of a ponderer, a bit of a wanderer.

That's all I care to type up or think about for now. *le yawn* So much for "vague idea," eh?

Little Moments

Over the second semester of last year, there were... moments. Moments where I caught myself feeling way beyond what I probably should have. I don't even know this guy's favorite color. I have no idea what kind of music he listens to. But are those arbitrary things? Do they matter? I think they do, but I have no idea. I've known (well, known of, certainly) this guy since the seventh grade. We never really spoke a ton, even though we've had every math class together from the seventh grade forward. That changed last semester, though.

We were all hanging out in the science classroom before class. For whatever reason, I brought it upon myself to make fun of him (we're talking about the President here, the same guy I've been rambling about the last few posts). When the teacher said we were going to draw random seats, I said something along the lines of, "God forbid I get stuck sitting next to you," to the President. So, of course, I ended up sitting next to him for the first half of the semester.

I had the sniffles something awful, so I was rather noisy that first week of the semester. At some point, the President said, "Well, that's attractive," and all of a sudden something in my head clicked and I thought, "Oh, no!" a la Mike Birbiglia. I thought it would go away, but of course it didn't. By Valentine's Day, I was dating someone else, and when he asked if he could be my Valentine, I said no in a more snippy manner than intended. He just said, "Oh."

Before then, we'd joked all the time about how clearly I was desperately in love with him, and at some point he'd tripped up making a joke about babies and had somehow managed to imply that I was going to have his babies. (I'm laughing just remembering it- at first he stuttered, trying to fix it, but then he just went along with it, which was even funnier.)

After that, it was weird for a week or two. Eventually we got back to normal, though we didn't joke about being in love with each other as much. I go back and forth between thinking that it's because he realized I liked him and didn't want to egg me on and that it's because he realized he liked me and didn't want to accidentally seem too obvious.

One time in the library, we were sitting talking at one of the tables- our math teacher was off doing something or other and had sent our class to the library for a few days- and we were talking about all the books in my bag. I said something about how they weren't going to fit in my purse, and I believe I started pulling things out of my purse and stacking them rather precariously. Of course, my calculator (a lovely bulky TI-84 Plus, my little baby) fell, and he caught it against my leg. Either he held it there for a second too long, or my mind stopped time for a moment. The latter is incredibly likely.

And then there's the time we did a science experiment involving burning metal solutions to determine which metals burned which color flames. The teacher, being an advocate for general safety and not catching on fire in the classroom, warned us all to pull back long hair and long sleeves. I pulled my hair- which I'd been wearing down regularly (without putting any effort into it) since it was cold as fuck- up into a bun while the President pulled his sweatshirt off. Which, by the way, he looked very good in, but even better out of. He can really pull off a t-shirt and jeans. Anyways, he looked at me and said, "You look... different with your hair up." I don't remember what I did, but I probably shrugged or some such. When my dear friend... hmm, what shall I call her? Oh, I know, Luna! When my dear friend Luna came over, she (as usual) told me I was looking exceptionally sexy. So, of course, I said in a very clearly-joking arrogant voice, "Yeah, [the President] here thinks so, too." And Luna and I laughed. But I thought- I could have sworn- I heard him say something along the lines of, "That was the message I was trying to get across," or "That was the general point." It was a while ago, so I don't remember the exact phrase, but it was something like that. But I think I imagined it.

To quote the great Brad Paisley, "Yeah, I live for little moments like that."

Issues to Rival Those of a Magazine Rack

I'm going to try and go through all my relationship issues- and all my issues that may even vaguely affect my relationships- and get them out into words. I think it might help me feel better. Usually when I have something to write about, I start writing and realize that either a) what I'm writing about has zero significance whatsoever, or b) there's not enough substance to create a post around it. So, yeah. There are a lot of shitty-ass posts you guys get to miss out on purely because they aren't worth posting.

Oh, and maybe in the future I'll just print this out and give it to any male who wants to be in a relationship with me. Ooh, that's either the best idea I've ever had or the worst. Aww yeah.

Issue #1: I'm bound to stop liking him.
It has happened time and time again. When I found out that a guy likes me, it destroys all chance of me liking him. I have no idea what causes it. Theories include a) I enjoy the chasing ritual too much for my own good, b) I'm afraid of commitment, but my hormones make me like boys, c) I want a guy that's a challenge, so much so to the extent that I want the entire relationship to be a challenge, and me knowing he likes me just doesn't provide a challenge, and d) I'm so afraid of getting hurt that the minute it threatens to become a "relationship," I back off. My personal favorite is theory c, but I think deep down it's a mixture of all of them.

Issue #2: I fully expect the relationship to fail.
I just do. I don't really know why. I have a theory, though; they say that people's attitudes towards relationships are greatly influenced by what they saw with their parents while they were growing up. Whether that's true for everyone or not, it would certainly be fitting for me. My parents have not had the greatest relationshit history (see Issue #3).
 

Issue #2b: That, or I expect it to never end.
At first, this doesn't seem like an issue; it just seems like a little girl fantasizing about dancing with her Prince Charming. And, on a certain level, that's exactly what it is. (Shit, throat going dry, eyes watering, gotta go in a different direction...) However, it is a problem. I'm not going to magically have a happy relationship just because I want one. Everyone fights, and every relationship has its rough patches. I can't just expect that since I'm elated for the first five minutes, everything is going to work out perfectly. But I do expect that. Hell, for one example of what could go wrong, just check out Issue #1. Crap's for real.

Issue #3: My parental units... they're fucked up.
My mother and my birth father divorced before my first birthday. I didn't see him or speak to him until about a decade and a half later. I still don't call him Dad. My mother and the man I grew up calling Dad divorced the winter I was in eighth grade. It came straight out of the blue to me. I only call him Dad when I'm around him or someone who might tell him I call him by his full name when he isn't there to hear it. My mother was engaged to a very dependent man through my freshman year. She kinda sorta kicked him out of the house one weekend the summer before my sophomore year while I was at my "dad's." Speaking of "Dad," he married a gold-digging whore who led me to have suicidal thoughts and behaviors and refused to leave her despite the fact that he- along with my mother- had made a very explicit promise that we, the children, would always come first. Apparently what that meant was that we, the children, would come first until "Dad" got some fresh pussy. I can't believe I actually typed that. I'll be done with this topic now.
 
Issue #4: I can't decide about physical stuff and PDAs.
On the one hand, I hate couples who stand in the hall and make out. They're fucking annoying. They're almost as bad as those people who walk reaaaaally slow and in a line, blocking everyone who isn't daring enough to push through them Red Rover-style from doing something as simple as walk to third period. Yeah, I know, I'm refocusing. Back to what I was saying. I like the idea of making out, to be honest. Lips touching, hands running through hair and roaming the body... that all sounds good. Hugs, on the other hand, I find incredibly awkward. I hugged Pansy Boy good-bye every morning outside my first period class. I hated that shit. I look retarded when I hug people anyways. Now, a chaste kiss? I could probably make that work. But in public? It depends. On what? I have no clue. I have a feeling this is one of the ones that will work itself out in its own time, without the therapy necessary for Issue #3, hehe.

Issue #5: I don't want to have to say, "I love you." 
Maybe this is less an issue and more of a pet peeve. I don't really know; I haven't been in enough serious relationships (at the time of writing, I've only been in one, and I ended that after a month) to know if what I feel is normal. I have this major aversion to saying those three little words. I think this aversion stems from the fact that my first boyfriend, Pansy Boy, told me he loved me after, oh, I think it was two days. We got together through text over winter break. We'd known each other for maybe a week before the beginning of winter break. We flirted incessantly over Twitter and via text. He asked me out, we had a few snow days... we hadn't seen each other for weeks, and he told me he loved me. And I panicked and told him I loved him, too. I felt like I had to constantly tell him I loved him throughout the relationship. Looking back, even Pansy Boy can admit he was a needy bitch. But acknowledging it isn't enough. That crap has stayed with me.

Ugh, I think I'm done for now. Too much heavy stuff, and halfway through this post I had to run and complain to Rissa about the President (not Obama, the guy I've nicknamed the President for the purposes of this blog).

Emotions and Other Crazy Little Things, None of Which I'm Going to Mention are Called Love

I don't understand why... okay, fuck it, here's a song lyric really quick that seems to apply fairly well here:

I'm thinkin' maybe I can't have relationships, 'cause lately they're not makin' any sense... and baby, you're the one thing on my mind, but that could change any time. ~3OH!3, Double Vision

That's pretty much it for the past few months. I've been sitting here wondering if I'm even capable of having a legitimate relationship, nothing has been making any miniscule amount of sense, and it seems like even if He (and I'm not capitalizing to mean God, I'm capitalizing to mean whichever boy/man/male I'm into at the moment) is the only thing I can think about, soon enough it'll be someone else.

Also, you absolutely must listen to the comedy stylings of Dan Cummins. He is one seriously funny little bitch. That joke's called "Not Actually a Gender-Neutral Noun."

Relationshit Rambling

So there's this guy. Same guy I was describing last post. He calls me "m'lady" on Facebook, or sometimes "madame." He uses old words and lolspeak in the same sentence. I don't know him like I knew Pansy Boy or Macarrones or even the President. The extent of our interaction has been Facebook conversations. Over 3000 IMs and messages have been exchanged, according to Facebook.

But I can't make myself be rational like I usually am. With Macarrones, it was all, "I'm not attracted to you in a romantic manner, therefore we shouldn't date." And with Pansy Boy, it was, "I can't stand you and your sense of humor ninety percent of the time, and my life isn't a romcom, so we shouldn't date." With the President, it was, "You don't feel the same way. I get it. I'm moved on now." Edit: Bahaha, yeah right. "Moved on," my ass.

But with this guy, I can't be rational like that. I can't just say to myself, "You don't know him." And it sucks. I'm not good at just giving it all up and being happy, especially after the whole Pansy Boy ordeal and all my new little rules and self-discipline about using the l-word. I'd say, "Maybe he's here to tell me I have to break those rules," but, like I said before, my life isn't a romantic comedy. My life is a shitty indie film. There's a difference, and I accept that.

And at the same time, I don't even want to try to be rational. Anyone else in my situation would sit here and listen to Lily Allen and smile like a fool and say, "Fuck the work for my online class, I'm getting on Spiral Knights." But no. I'm me, so of course that wouldn't work.

The fuck do I have a blog?

By the way, the title of this post should link to the most awesome virtual mix tape ever for the state of my mind right now. You're welcome.

There's This Guy

Okay, so there's this guy. Boos from audience. A random crowd member screams, "Give us some real news!" Oh, shut up, George. Anyways, the guy. Yeah. Oh, all right, I'll tell you about him, if you insist.

One time he asked, "Why are we the same person with different genders? And operating systems?" It stuck with me (obviously). Absolutely cracks me up. Because we really are eerily similar. I don't really know if they're deep similarities or superficial ones; I can never tell the difference (you know me, I can hack the shit out of your computer and dress to kill, but I can't- yet- understand the human mind). But we are similar on certain levels.

He gets my sense of humor. I don't have to explain the joke or defend myself after saying something snarky. Wanna know why? He's the same way. When I say something without thinking, he doesn't make me feel like I really should've thought that one all the way through, darling. No, he just lols or luls or whatever it is he's doing that day. And I appreciate that.

He makes me feel just right, intellectually speaking. I don't feel like a genius talking to him, but I don't feel like a moron, either. That's very important to me- I don't want to feel like an idiot when I'm talking to someone, but I don't want to have to explain every other word or thought process. And with him, it's neither of those. It's like for one of the first times ever- and I don't mean to sound like a bitch here or to be snippy towards anyone else- I'm talking to someone I think I can relate to. He's about my age and on a similar intellectual level, from what I can tell. That hasn't ever really happened before. It's quite fun.

He has plans for when the zombies come. Really? That's just fucking awesome. There is nothing as absolutely hawt as someone who could survive the motherfucking zombie apocalypse. 'Nuff said on that.

He doesn't seem to mind when I swear. At least, I don't think he does. Unless him telling me that his parents snoop on his computer so to keep it clean was a lie and he just doesn't like it when I swear. Hmm. Now I'm paranoid. (I watched the Matrix for the first time tonight- can you tell?)

He seems to genuinely want to talk to me. And that, my friend, is probably the most important thing of all. 'Cause I want to talk to him, too.

The Origin of My Decision to Give Up Relationships for Lent: A Poem

You say that you love me
Then you push me away
It's a gamble, so random
Your emotions that day

Why are people so crazy?
Why can't love be true?
All I want is some loving
Some loving from you

You used to give freely
Now it's from push and tug
Your obsession, your interest
You won't call it "Love."