Flashback of Crack

What the heck, Tego. O_______O You are SUCH a guy.

Q7.The colour and type of bikini you’d want a girl to wear?
Tegoshi: It’s fine if she’s naked (laugh) (I’m sorry. I like the normal pink or white swimming costumes)
(credits to hellomichi)

My jaw literally dropped when I read that. No wonder everyone calls him Ero Ouji. I never fully understood why that nickname exists until… this happened. Naughty boy. XP

I often wonder why I even like him. I only know the idol part of him — and that’s the part I like. Take all that away and you’re just left with a feminine-looking regular guy who lives and breathes soccer. He’s been saying in interviews that he’s not entirely his true self during work. I think I get what he means now.

He’s constantly being watched and filmed, so he can’t just act how he wants. Image is everything in the entertainment world, and as shallow as that sounds, it’s the truth. When he’s working as NEWS or Tegomass or whatever, he does things that fans want him to do. That includes, but is not limited to:

  • making kissy faces at the camera
  • kissing other boys
  • sitting in people’s laps
  • being carried princess-style
  • dancing like a slut
  • dancing like an idiot
  • having his hair all fluffed up and perfect
  • wearing makeup for concerts and photoshoots
  • crossdressing

He’s been trying to tell us that he’s not like that in his free time. Does that mean he’s fake? Yes and no. Not necessarily, I don’t think. I can see that he really likes doing what he does, and that to me makes it all real. A lot of people think he’s really girly, but unless you’ve been following the guy for a while, you won’t know that he’s actually pretty guyish. Except for his face, which is just pretty. :P

I’ll use myself as an example. At school, I’m naturally very quiet, composed, and mature. Some people have called me sophisticated, and EVERYONE thinks I’m smart. That’s how others see me. But I don’t see myself like that. I’m not a smart person at all; in fact, I hate it when I’m called smart. No one knows about every question I have about myself, my friends, family, future. When I’m at home, I can drop my guard and act however I want. My brother is probably the person who knows me best; he knows loud I can be, how much of a child I really am, my laziness and many dumb moments — but even he doesn’t know everything about me. Only I do.

I don’t know, I think it’s rather obvious that Tego doesn’t hang out with his friends while looking like this:

I still love Yuuko so much, by the way. ♥ I heard that Tegoshi dressed up in a pink yukata and geta and lipstick with a giant flower pin thing in his hair at the last Tegomass no Ai concert, which simply NEEDS to be in the DVD.

Slightly off-topic, but I’m starting to think Tego has issues with his dad. He talks about Tegomama all the time in interviews, makes it obvious how much he loves her. But what about daddy? It’s almost as though he doesn’t exist. Honestly, though, what father would be okay with his son doing THAT up there, along with all the other questionable things Tego does in JE? My own dad doesn’t seem to like it very much when I adorn The Pest’s hair with one of my headbands. (Hey, I don’t have a sister, so whoever’s available~ :P)

You know, speaking of my dad…

Last week I used The Old Man’s credit card to order a whole bunch of schoolbooks through Amazon (which totaled $70, stupid shipping ^vv^). Maybe, just maybe he won’t notice if I sneak his card for one more purchase…

NEED THAT NEW ALBUM NOW DAMMIT.

. . .

Aww, man. D: My copies of The Oedipus Cycle and Le Petit Prince (for the AP English and French summer reading) came in the mail today.

That means I have to read them. DDD:

And I think I regret letting Daisy recommend me for the Bioethics class. I just got the textbook and, flipping through it, it reads like a computer manual. Wait, it’s worse than a computer manual. At least those have diagrams. TT-TT

I only have until Monday to complete Operation: Become Pretty. That’s when they scheduled me to have my senior portrait taken, so I need to look my best by then. Let’s have a little checklist:

  1. clothes
  2. learn how to wear makeup and not look like a tramp
  3. no more glasses
  4. hair
  5. sparkly teeth

I think that’s all I can do for now. :/ My last chance to look good in a school picture and I’m not screwing it up!

And I get to see some of my friends again! ^_________^

Thinking about school pictures and my friends makes me want to finish that entry I meant to write in June but didn’t. :P Lazy lazy lazy, I am.

I COULD just forget about it altogether, but I only have a year of high school left, and I want to look back at this journal someday and be able to smile at the crazy stuff that happened. And this IS primarily a personal journal, after all. This will be really long and uninteresting to anyone but me. So, um, just skip it. ^^

I’ll pretend that it’s still June, which was when I started this entry. I already have the beginning part typed out and it would be a shame to erase all that, wouldn’t it?

How much can I remember, I wonder?

(Warning: gigantic, rambly, boring life entry. No, seriously. It’s huge. And ALL ABOUT SCHOOL. :D)

Lesson learned: Never paint your nails with mustard yellow nail polish. As a matter of fact, just don’t use mustard-colored anything.

D:

All my friends had been easing into the summery mood by painting their nails with bright colors. Cappa’s are hot pink, bordering on scarlet; Tamara’s are a really fluorescent green; Yaz’s are chartreuse, I think; Angel’s are a pretty turquoise blue; and a couple other people shared the same bottle of blue-green polish for the athletics banquet. I usually sit with Cappa and Tamara at lunch — except for those few days when I was dragged against my will by Adele to the Honors table, and when I was being rebellious and sat with my sophomore friends — and when I noticed that they both had neon nails, I was struck with the urge to make mine neon too.

Me: So we can all match. :D

I hate doing anything to my nails because it’s a hassle and looks stupid. Especially when girls stick tons of things on them (Koda Kumi: her nails are absolutely ridiculous), making it impossible to use their phones, and now that I have contacts I would totally end up ripping my eyes out or something. DX I’ve openly laughed at girls I had seen struggling to press the right buttons in their cell phones due to their outrageous nails. But our days at school as juniors were numbered, so I thought, “Oh, why not?” I picked yellow because no one used yellow yet.

Now I see why.

IT’S SO UGLY. DDD: Makes my nails look diseased, as Mama so delicately pointed out. Ehh, whatever. It’s not like people particularly care about what I do to my nails. The Old Man makes fun of my fingers because they’re stubby. D’:

It turned out that I went through the trouble for nothing, because I didn’t even sit with Cappa and Tamara at lunch Thursday.

You know what? I’ll start from the beginning, June 10. Thursday was a pretty wonderful way to end the school year (before finals, that is). It was a day filled to the brim with events that I never saw coming.

1st period — GYM

This was the official last day of gym class, because there’s no such thing as a gym final in my school. Well, except for freshman year. Not something I want to experience again. D:

But we didn’t even do anything for gym. The teacher decided that since it’s the last time we’ll have her, we can have a study instead of class. I love gym and all… BUT A STUDY IS SO MUCH BETTER.

I probably should have spent the period reviewing for finals, but like always I did nothing productive whatsoever. It’s a mixed sophomore-junior class, so I was able to talk to Yaz for the full forty-five minutes. She gave me unhelpful advice about Markus. It had been his birthday a few days earlier, and even though I’d wished him a happy birthday every year for the past four years either in person or through AIM (he’s the sole reason I even have one), for some reason, I didn’t do it this year.

No, I didn’t forget. I had sat in front of my laptop, the little mouse cursor hovering over the SIGN IN button in AIM. But I didn’t click it. I never did. I don’t know why, but I chickened out this year. I didn’t feel too guilty about it, though. He probably would have thought I’m a creepy obsessed chick for remembering.

That very night, I had a dream — and Markus was in it. Can’t remember much about it, just that the doorbell rang, Markus was there, and he gave me his typical gigantic bear hug. I think I was crying. Not really sure.

So, all this meant that missing his birthday affected me way more than I thought. Yaz listened to everything without interrupting, and when I finished she said, quite bluntly, “You like him.”

I felt slightly bad afterward for snapping, “No, I don’t!” at her, after she had listened so patiently.

I DO NOT. I really don’t. Not anymore, at least.

…do I? D:

/conflicted

Oh, and that was also when the artwork in this entry happened.

While trudging up the countless flights of stairs with to our next classes (me to Religion, Yaz to English; both on the fifth floor), Yaz started asking me about Daisy. Every one of my friends know that I don’t like him, but none of them know why, not even me. Anyway, Adele was on her way down from Daisy’s class, and, overhearing his name, she accidentally let slip something she wasn’t supposed to tell us yet. And when I questioned her, she only clapped a hand over her mouth and hurried away.

Wonder what that’s all about.

Final exam: N/A

2nd period — RELIGION

Daisy had set up a finals review game for us, some version of  Jeopardy. We were split into five groups. My team (Blaize, Carlie, Emilia) dubbed me their captain and I led us to victory! :Dv Well, second place, really. :P But that’s good enough for me!

While we played the game, Daisy called each of us up one by one so he can sign us out if we did all our work. This will make no sense to anyone outside my school, so I’ll simplify it: Everyone gets a sign out sheet during the last week of classes. Teachers sign you out when they see you’ve got everything turned in for credit. If you don’t get signed out by every teacher, you don’t take your final exams and you have to keep returning to school until you make up all assignments.

When it was my turn, he seemed to sign his name extra slowly to prolong my torture. I twitched as I waited. Finally, he handed back my sheet and said in a mock-pleasant tone, “Good work this year, Mimi.”

Just hearing him say my name makes me shiver.

Well, it turned out that I probably won’t hear him say my name ever again, because he announced at the end of the class that he won’t be returning next year.

:O

Journal, you know how much I dislike him as a person. Heck, the WHOLE WORLD knows that I don’t like him. But I gotta admit: as a teacher he’s pretty sick, in the good sense of the word. He’s the first religion teacher to make me think about things, and I mean really think about them. I think I’ve become a deeper, more spiritual person because of him. Plus, he’s supposed to be my AP English teacher next year, and if he’s gone, I can’t imagine what kind of nutcase my school will employ to replace him. Or worse, if Mrs. English Teacher takes his place. Dear God the horror. DDD: Sweet lady, but I didn’t learn a thing in her class.

Ahem. What I’m trying to say is…

I don’t want him to go.

Maybe this is karma’s way of getting me back for hating on him in this journal. It makes NO SENSE that he’s going to take a year off from work to take care of his newborn daughter. Shouldn’t that be the mother’s job? I mean, he obviously can’t breastfeed.

I spent the rest of the period trying to help Carlie and Emilia console a heartbroken Blaize. Daisy’s that type of teacher whom all the girls (EXCLUDING ME) have a crush on, and Blaize is one of them.

By the way, I did AWESOME on my end-of-the-year speech, not to brag or anything. Oh, who am I kidding, I’m totally bragging. I was supposed to reflect on what I learned during the year. Got a 98. :DDD And when I sat back down, Angel told me I should consider blogging because I have the voice of a blogger.

I’ll have a ton of explaining to do if my friends ever discover this journal. :P

Final exam: 99 (How in the WORLD is this possible??)

3rd period — U.S. HISTORY

More review games, except this time, it wasn’t the teacher’s idea. Corr, Christa, and another friend of mine named Mickie had created a mile-high stack of flash cards (two feet tall! :O), each one containing a history-related question. They split the room into two teams. Each team would send one person up to the chalkboard. Someone would read a question, and whoever writes down the correct answer first gets points for her team. We were allowed to ask our teammates for help, for half the points.

I got every one of my questions wrong/didn’t write fast enough. TT-TT I can remember only one of mine, which went like, “Name two figures from the Harlem Renaissance.” I got one name, but my team frantically screaming INCORRECT ANSWERS at me screwed me up on the second name. Thanks, guys. -___-;;

Poor history teacher kept face palming throughout the whole thing.

My side had smart enough people, but the other team had a secret weapon: this genius sophomore named Sonya, who’s the younger sister of a past student council president, and the future valedictorian of the class of 2012. Not only did she get all her questions right, but right after she wrote her answer for a question about Japan in WWII, she rapidly scribbled her name in hiragana.

It seems that I do know a Japanese person after all. :/ Huh. That must explain why Sonya has the same last name as someone in Johnny’s. Boy I’m slow for JUST making the connection now.

Mama lied to me. )’: She said Sonya has a Spanish last name. I am dumb because I believed her.

By the way, other team totally played dirty.

Final exam: A- (Don’t know the exact number.)

4th period — PRE-CALCULUS

Teacher answered last-minute Pre-calc questions. I had already accepted the fact that I will never understand sine and cosine functions, so I had no contributions. I don’t remember a whole lot here, just that Christa was missing for the first fifteen minutes. Nothing new there; Christa is always late for class. ^^;;

Again, don’t know how we became friends.

We all knew why she was late this time, though. See, the entire Pre-calc class (minus the seniors, who were already gone) had arranged to order Chinese food for lunch. It was actually Pre-calc teacher’s idea in the first place; I bet he was only joking and didn’t expect us to actually follow through.

My family never orders the stuff and I’m not a huge fan of Chinese food (fried things and food with lots of oil always make me literally sick), but I participated anyway. I thought it was a nice way to end the school year.

The day before, we had already given Christa the money needed. She had the job of ordering. I guess she ran into Carl the janitor along the way, because she asked him to call for her. Carl’s a pretty cool guy. We’re not supposed to call him by his first name but everyone does anyway. There was once a rumor going around that he had an affair with one of the students.

Oh, life at an all-girls school. :D

Anyway, we worried that Christa had ordered too late. Lunch was next and there was no way the restaurant could cook $100 worth of food in twenty minutes.

Final exam: A-

LUNCH

Since the seniors had already left, that meant that the area they used to occupy was vacant. And so, that was where we sat while we waited.

And waited.

Luckily, Gin had baked some brownies for us (that girl is always baking something), helping to ease the gurgling in our stomachs. Franky, on the other hand, wasn’t satisfied; she had caved and bought a quesadilla from the lunch lady. Quesadillas are extremely rare in the lunch menu, and we all watched Franky with envy as she blissfully moaned into a bite of the cheesy tortilla. D:

Half an hour later, we were still waiting. And then the bell rang. Lunch was over, and we all reluctantly headed out to our next classes: Religion, Chemistry, or AP Bio.

BUT WAIT. Just as we packed up our things to leave, Christa gave a shout, sprang up, and dashed out of the cafeteria. We held our breath, each one of us no doubt wondering the same thing: “Can it be…? Food?” Then Christa returned, looking almost triumphant as she and Carl carried a GIGANTIC box into the cafeteria.

We probably would have torn into the box right then and there… if our Pre-calc teacher hadn’t stepped in and told us we have class.

HUNGRY. SO HUNGRY.

5th period — AP BIOLOGY

Some of us were so desperate for food that we brought our plastic utensils with is to AP Bio. Ahem, including me. :P When I realized that I was still holding onto my fork, I slipped it into the sleeve of my uniform sweater.

We had been done with AP Bio since May, so we tried to convince the teacher to let us travel back down to the cafeteria and eat our lunch. She agreed. The other Pre-calc students who were in Religion or Chemistry talked their teachers into letting them come down. We were together, we were ecstatic…

And we FEASTED.

I felt totally nauseous afterward, but I think it was worth it. This is what my fortune cookie said:


(Sorry, it’s blurry. :P)

That fortune cookie was a bastard. “You will sleep well at night.” It probably knew I had final exams the very next day. DDD:

We saved some food for Pre-calc teacher and Daisy for letting their students cut class — even though we knew Daisy is a freak who doesn’t eat anything that’s not all natural.

Final exam: N/A

6th period — FRENCH III

EVIL FRENCH TEACHER IS LEAVING. OMGYAAAAAAAAAY. :DV

I had the suspicion that she could no longer deal with the weirdness that goes on in an all-girls school. I’m referring to something that happened back in May.

You see, she’s one of my study period proctors. One day, it was rather stuffy and uncomfortable in her room. Completely unable and unwilling to do anything productive, I laid my head down and took a nap. My friends (Christa, Franky, Corr, Merry, Savannah, some other people I can’t remember) moved to the front of the room so they won’t disturb me. Suddenly, something startled me awake. I was still kinda drowsy to really know what was going on, but I heard it all from an extremely pissed Christa later on, as she heatedly retold it during lunch.

Christa is a really touchy-feely person. Franky is one of her favorite victims because she doesn’t laugh — she squeaks. We’re all familiar with how Christa tortures Franky, but apparently French teacher wasn’t. It must have been her tone that pulled me out of dreamland. She sounded so offended. Disturbed, even. According to everyone who had been in the room at the time, French teacher said these exact words: “Oh my God. What are you girls doing? That’s so weird; I’ve never seen girls your age do that to each other before. Grow up.”

Teacher then proceeded to tell the Spanish teacher and one of the math teachers. Spanish teacher has been here for over a decade; this is nothing new to her. Math teacher loves Christa. Both ignored the French lady. Christa used to like her, and now? She can’t stand the woman.

We’re taught to be very open-minded at my school. Stay closed-minded and you won’t survive. See ya, French teacher.

WAIT. The French teachers get worse every year. Who will we have next? O________O

Final exam: A

7th period — BRITISH LITERATURE

We had been working on developing our voice for our college essays. Mrs. English Teacher had told us to freewrite a journal entry about our day, and then she collected them. The next day, she started reading them aloud, telling us to try to guess the writer through the writing style. The very first journal she read started out like this: “I am so tired right now. Last night I didn’t go to sleep until midnight—”

She was cut off when the ENTIRE CLASS simultaneously chorused my name. Lol they all know I don’t sleep. XDDD They were wrong, though. Unfortunately, she never got to reading mine. D:

Final exam: 88

LAST DAY

The beginning was typical: cleaning desks, wiping down lockers, ripping stuff off the walls, sweeping the floors. For some reason, my homeroom teacher had crime scene tape all over the room; that had to come off. (And I stole a small section of it too. ^vv^) But once the desks were all moved out of the way… crack. That’s all it was.

Cappa had the brilliant idea of turning the classroom into a dance floor. She plugged her iPod into the teacher’s speakers and became our DJ for the day. Cappa is awesome. ^______^

Looking back at the video I took of it (which I can’t post here because it shows everyone’s faces), there were about fifteen people dancing, including some students from other homerooms. Homeroom teacher danced too, and she’s got some sick moves! I probably busted my gut from laughing too hard.

Then it was time for the final awards ceremony. I got the same ones I always get — French, Perfect Attendance, and Perfect Punctuality. But this year two awards surprised me. One was the Best English Declamation Award. You should have seen the utterly shocked look on my face when they called out my name. I had stood up, turned to Sheena, and pointed at myself, mouthing, “ME?” I STILL can’t believe that I had managed to go from a girl who people thought was mute, to a girl who got an award for speaking out loud.

And THEN, when it was time to hand out the college book awards, they called out the names everyone expected them to call: Lynne (lol Lynne probably should have just sat on stage because she had to go up so many times :P; she got the award from Harvard that looked more like a dictionary), Laney, Gin, and Merry. But they called me up too! I walked up the stairs on wobbly legs and accepted the award. Book awards are given to students by certain colleges for scholarship and other reasons. I got mine for scholarship and service. I don’t think it’s a big deal, but who cares? Free book. :D Here’s a photo:

We turned to Angel, who’s the new school photographer, and let her take our picture.

Then Carlie, our new student council president, was called up to the stage, and she got to carry out her very first job as president: dismissing us by grade level. As the juniors — ahem, seniors now ^o^ — rushed out of the building, I noticed that a small crowd had formed around Daisy outside. I am short-ish, unfortunately, but I wiggled my way into the crowd to see Daisy’s bright-eyed, adorable, squishy little baby girl.

And THAT, journal, was how my junior year ended. SO boring to type all that out. DX But hopefully it’ll be worth it when I look back on this entry in the future.

I really want to make nice memories like these next year.

Well, I’m off to go rollerblading now. Later!

Until next time,

~ Mimi :3

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