yes, of course

It’s strange to be able to say these next few things, journal, since I started writing here when I was a baby teen and I’ve grown so much in these 7 years. At least I think it’s been 7. Too lazy to spend 10 seconds going back to check.

(Okay fine, I checked and what the actual fuck it’s been nearly 8 years.)

As I was saying!

I made it through high school.

I fell in love with a boy.

I completed a bachelor’s degree at a wonderful school that completely changed my life.

I learned to navigate around chronic mental illnesses and now understand myself so much better because of it.

I maintained relationships with dear friends who scattered around the world after graduation.

I returned to my high school for our 5-year reunion.

I just finished my master’s degree.

And I’m not supposed to tell people this next thing because of complications that I’ll further explain, but…

16-07-27-02-40-30-634_deco

I’m getting married.

Holy shit, right? That little baby child who started this journal all those years ago is now engaged!!

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Part VI: [a troubled] Love Story

Well. Um. This is gonna be a challenge, writing about the past and having to forget the past year or so for a while..

(Other parts: i, ii, iii, iv, v, vii)

I am a dreamer, not a doer. I am the sort of girl who is content with sitting in front of a notebook or laptop all day, conjuring up worlds that I’d love to explore, characters I wished I could meet, and lives I wanted to have — because that was all I was able to do in this prison of a home.

Manny doesn’t dream; he plans AND he does. He is also the sort of boy who joined his high school cheerleading team just so he could flirt with the girls — and ended up dating the head cheerleader.

And yet, despite my best efforts to not get too attached to someone who contradicted every quality I would like in a partner, despite NOT BELIEVING it could happen, I fell in love with this very boy.

Have I ever mentioned this, journal? That I am the biggest skeptic of this so-called teenage love thing? Well, now you know. Yeah, I am such a romantic, I know. That must make me a hypocrite because I often write about teenage love even though I didn’t think it was real. (Cardcaptor Sakura, yes, they are all like 12.) But then it happened to me. I call it love now because that’s the only word I have for it, but to be honest, I can’t be sure that these current feelings of “love” will be the same feelings that I will ultimately have for the person I marry. (Marriage… I mentioned before that this deserves a post of its own. Because I’m not getting married.) Probably not, right? They say you truly fall in love just once, “they” being hopeless romantics. I am not one of those; I’m more realistic romantic, if such a thing exists. I believe that my sort of love is only a lesser version of that “true love.” Both certainly are genuine feelings, though! They’re just on different levels.

But I’m getting ahead of myself here. I should first go back to when I felt that transition from like to love.

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flight//

Taking another brief study break from bio to post this, hehe. It’s a selection from one of the things I wrote in my theater class on the personal narrative/memoir. Prompt was to write about my feelings. Now. Not yesterday, not last week, not one hour ago. Now.

Uhh, unfortunately my professor caught me during that painful mutual break-up the boyfriend and I attempted for our own good but failed miserably. So I present to you (under a cut because I’m not letting this embarrassing sucky metaphoric teenage angsty blech float free in the open) whatever the heck I wrote.

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Part II: [our] Love Story [takes a leap forward]

(Other parts: i, iii, iv, v, ivvii)

It was November 12, 2011: roughly a month after my hospitalization and three weeks since I last saw my Boston boys.

It started out as a pretty normal Saturday. Junk food shopping in the morning with Elaina at the town’s supermarket. Essay writing in the afternoon.

Mini high school reunion in the evening. :DDD

Nothing extravagant, just dinner at a restaurant in Boston with eight friends whom I haven’t seen since graduation. The restaurant… was the most bizarre eating establishment I’ve ever been to. The servers are supposed to be the rudest, least hospitable bitchfaces you’ll ever meet. For example, if you ask for straws they’ll throw a handful in your direction. They’ll take your order by nodding at you, saying, “You. Whaddya want?” One chick took Merry’s hat off her head and wore it for the remainder of the evening. An interesting experience, to say the least.

The main feature of the restaurant is not the food, but the hats. They give every diner a paper hat resembling a giant condom with a personalized insult written on it. Sometimes it’s random, sometimes they truly pick on you. Like, Lynne’s random insult said “I braid my pit hair,” but another friend’s was truly insulting. This friend’s gender is kind of ambiguous, and so the server just wrote a question mark on her hat. She honestly didn’t understand what that was supposed to mean and I felt soooo bad that I knew exactly what it meant.

As for my hat, the server had simply written “EZ.” Uhm. I hope that was a random insult that had nothing to do with me personally.

Near the end of dinner, I received a text from Manny out of nowhere. (I got a new, non-sucky phone that can text and take pretty pictures, by the way. Except for the data plan, ’twas freeeeee <3) And I say out of nowhere because I hardly interacted with him since that day I embarrassingly ran away from the theater, and here he is with a text casually asking me what I’ve been up to when we haven’t talked in four days.

I mentioned that I happened to be in the area at that very moment, and so he tells me omg come visit!!

(His exact words, btw.)

I was actually going to ask him myself if I could visit. He just saved me the trouble.

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Like and Love…

Sometimes I absolutely love life.

Tegoshi Yuuko returns in episode 6 of Deka Wanko!

But I guess she’s called Kiriko here. :P

No caps from me for once because I don’t want to spoil anything. And… I don’t have the episode in my hard drive. Yet. ^___^;; Though I will say that she is preeeetty.

Tegoshi crossdressing is more than a fetish to me; I legitimately love who he becomes whenever he crossdresses, whether it be Yuuko in NEWS, Yukiko in YamaNade, or Kiriko in Deka Wanko. To me, Yuuko and Yuya aren’t the same people. Is it weird? Hell yes. There’s no way this is normal fangirl behavior. In fact, I should probably reserve my room at the local psychiatric hospital right this minute. I’ve already accepted that Yuuko will forever own my soul. <3

But I wonder: Why is he crossdressing in the first place? Did he himself request to dress up like that? Did the screenwriters create the drama with Tegoshi as Kirishima in mind? Or maybe it was a random last-minute addition because the director figured, “Tegoshi-san will be totally cool with this and it will boost ratings.” All I know is that the real Kirishima would never do such a thing.

Pssh, like I particularly care why. I just adore Tego for doing it at all for the fans, and so shamelessly too. Boy enjoys his job far too much.

Um, I think I’ve been talking about Tegoshi a lot more than usual lately. I’m sorry, journal, it’s just that he’s everywhere right now. I can’t help my love. >___<

Ah, but journal, I do want to clarify that I’m not in love with him — not romantically, anyway — despite my never ending babbles and obsessively stalking various sites for Tego activity. I know how silly it would be to genuinely fall in love with an idol. Guarantees nothing but disappointment. Obviously I like going starry-eyed over how gorgeous, stunning, sparkly he is, and I love watching him perform during lives, but it’s not like I think in my head, “This is the man I want to marry. This is the guy I want to spend the rest of my life with.” No, it’s not like that, because that would be the ultimate crossover of Fandom and Real Life.

Besides, we don’t match at all; pretty sure I wouldn’t like him much in real life. As much as I hate to admit it, half of me is a realist. I’m not so crazy as to get myself trapped in an impossible love. (Well, sort of. But that’s a story for the Real Life section.) It’s a different kind of love, one that’s hard to explain. It’s a blend of the love I feel for my family and the love I have for my friends — and then there’s the matter of that little celebrity crush I have on him. ^–^

Just because I caught myself unconsciously saying his first name over and over again during Calculus doesn’t mean I love him in that way. Hey, I was just testing what his name sounds like on my tongue. LOL, this is not helping to prove my sanity.

(We had a discussion about marriage in my Religion class recently so that’s why I’ve been thinking about romantic love all of a sudden. This all didn’t just come from nowhere. :D)

I want to be fair to Massu and include him more here because I lurve him too, but he’s so quiet. Not vocally but activity-wise. No rumors, no sightings, no dramas or drama. A bit awkward for me to flail over him doing nothing, isn’t it? Lately you can only catch him in some odd Tegomass stuff here and there.

Oh. Speaking of Tegomass.

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Utterly BETRAYED

Just a quick entry because I don’t like doing Biology. xP YES, PROCRASTINATION.

Last Saturday I had gone to do some volunteer work with Christa, who had recommended me the site in the first place. I’d done the same volunteer work last year, but this year I had yet to get the site approved by Daisy, my religion teacher. Since I REALLY don’t like him, I begged Christa to hand him the approval form and mention that I was working at the same place.

Naturally, she asked why wouldn’t I just hand in my own copy. I told her about how I feel toward Daisy. She acted surprised but she didn’t really pry any further. She agreed to let him know about me working with her.

See, the thing about Christa is that she’s my polar opposite. She is not a good student. (Well, neither am I, but at least I try. Somewhat.) She’s in all my honors classes and whatnot, but she never does her homework before the due date. I would usually hand her my corrected homework so she could use it to complete hers. Today, for example, I had gotten my U.S. History report back with a red A+ on it, and Christa snatched it out of my hands without a word. I don’t mind giving it to her for some reason, but if anyone else asks me for my homework to copy I’d get really annoyed. Often Christa doesn’t show up in her classes until they’re half over. She swears like there’s no tomorrow. She speaks to her parents using such tones and words that if I tried them on my parents, I would not live to the next day to tell the tale.

She’s EXTREMELY outgoing, from the moment she asked for my phone number after knowing me for five minutes in freshman year, to the present. That’s right, she managed to get everyone to love her on the first day of high school.

People love her and hate her at the same time, because she’s a bitch, bully, and molester. I think we all secretly love being bitched at, bullied, and molested by her. Despite her shortness, she’s a major bully. She once tried to stuff Irene (who is tiny) into her locker, and Irene has a top locker. XD I am, unfortunately, one of her favorite targets. She discovered my weakness last year — I’m extremely ticklish.

I HATE being tickled more than anything. I’ve often said that I’d rather lose a finger than be strapped down and tickled for more than five minutes. Every day, she makes sure to give my sides at least one squeeze or poke. I never fail to automatically react like I always do — by shrieking and jumping or falling out of my seat. It’s so humiliating because I can’t control my reactions, and she likes to do this in the middle of class or some other inappropriate time.

Knowing all this about her, one would think that I’d have known better than to inform her about my Daisy situation. Well… turns out I didn’t know better. Because Christa betrayed me.

She let him know that we did our volunteer work together, that was good. She also told him that I was scared of him. And according to Christa, Daisy “laughed his ass off” at that.

HOW COULD SHE??? Now that he really knows I fear him, I’m even more scared of him. I think, today in class, he was staring at me harder than usual. Maybe I’m imagining things. I really don’t know. All I do know is, Christa betrayed me. T—-T This is why I don’t trust people.

Until next time,

~ Mimi D:

It’s like he KNOWS.

Daisy could not be any creepier today. I swear, it’s as if he knows that I fear him. But it’s not just me being paranoid! Merry, Franky, and Lillith all think that he hates them. And Franky mentioned that there is something odd about him. Boy, do I agree.

He said my name again today. The fact that he knows my name and that he uses it scares the crap out of me. We were about to split into 4 teams to play Jeopardy in order to review for our Religion test (that I should be studying for right now). Teachers usually like to count off people. You know, start with one person as one, the next person is two, then three, then four, and back to one. Then all the ones go to one corner, twos to another, etc.

For some bizarre reason, Daisy started with me. Which makes no sense because I sit in the middle of the back of the classroom.

Like I said before, HE KNOWS.

I probably would have been fine with it if he started with me and just moved on, but nooooo. He had to add in this completely creepish line.

Daisy: Let’s see. Why don’t we start off with Mimi today? She’ll be number one. –insert creepy chuckle here- Well, isn’t she always?

What was THAT? Really, just what was that? I can’t STAND getting comments like that, even if they’re only playing. My self-esteem is so off the charts — “off the charts” as in, it’s so low it’s practically non-existent — that I immediately think people who say things like that to me are merely making fun of me. Daisy barely knows me, and yet he goes and says something like that? It caught me so off guard that I felt the blush spread up my face like a wildfire. The girls in that class did not help my situation when they, PROBABLY FOR NO OTHER REASON THAN TO FURTHER MORTIFY ME, collectively awwed.

Of course, it doesn’t comfort me at all that there’s this teeny, persistent voice in the back of my mind that’s telling me about how Daisy is still relatively young, only in his late twenties. How he’s sort of good-looking. How half his students think the same way. How I’ve always been drawn to older men. How his muscles are rather defined under his dress shirt. How his dimple appears when he smiles. How his voice is one of the sexiest voices I’ve ever heard coming from a man—

WOAH, WAIT, STOP RIGHT THERE. I do not like where this is going. I do NOT have a petty student crush on Daisy, even though I know many students who do (like Blaize, a former cheerleader who’s obviously madly infatuated with him). In fact, I don’t like him AT ALL. I FEAR the man, for crissakes. So what if I happen to find his voice attractive? I find lots of people’s voices attractive. Same thing with faces. Older men have always fascinated me. As do muscles. :D So this means nothing. His appearance doesn’t change the fact that he gives me the chills.

You know how in novels authors often describe the whole “heart leaping into your throat” thing? I had always found that phrase ridiculous. But after meeting Daisy and having talked to him, I’ve come to understand only too well that it can actually happen. It feels like my heart had literally climbed its way up my throat and is beating there steadily, obscuring my speaking voice with a noticeable quiver. I have to take more breaths in a sentence than usual because I suddenly find that my breathing has become too shallow and my throat too tight. And I end up talking really fast. Usually my speech is slow, lazy, drawling, but when I try to talk to Daisy it’s like someone pressed the fast-forward button.

I’ll still be keeping a close eye on him. I sure know he’d be keeping his eyes on me, that creep.

Well. Done with that. Time for English homework. Look, isn’t this challenging?

homework

Argh, me + cameras = phail.

The new English teacher probably thinks we’re all morons. So she’s making us do stuff from a second grader’s workbook. I don’t like her very much right now.

I wrote a BRILLIANT one-and-a-half-page thank-you letter to this donor to my school. I felt so incredibly proud of it because it was so much better than last year’s letter. My soul was written into that letter. But then…!

Ms. English Teacher said it MUST be under a page. She came by with a pencil and started striking through many of the lines I spent a long time thinking up, just so I can get it under a page. I had to cut out so much that my once-brilliant letter became this piece of choppy garbage that I wouldn’t even use to wipe my tables. In that letter I talked a lot about wanting to be a writer, but after all that teacher made me erase, the donor would think that I’ll never make it as a writer with those terrible writing skills.

I would rather eat grass than send this letter out. Yes, of course I’m exaggerating. But my point is proven.

Until next time,

~ Nana >:(