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 VII: Love Story [and beyond]

Last part after too long.

SO DONE WITH SOPHOMORE YEAR.

(Previous parts: i, ii, iii, iv, v, iv.)

Manny feels very deeply.

He just doesn’t show it.

Enter me, who is dumb and ignorant and can’t read atmospheres and vomits words.  Because of this, I hurt him often, always unintentionally and without realizing it until too late. I still do this.

So for some reason, telling him that we should cut off all communication for a while had hurt him far more than it should have, i.e. not at all. I probably should have explained my reasoning better. Oh well. I could only bear three days of this before caving.

(During this time I also idiotically started the list that would ultimately become this because, you know, that is exactly what you do when you’re trying to forget someone.)

He didn’t respond well. To word it gently, he told me to leave him alone.

“Leave me alone” is one of the worst things you can say to me ever. No matter what the context, it immediately fills me with guilt and self-loathing. You hate me and everything is my fault, and so I will immediately stop talking to you. I have a pretty avoidant personality, in which I will run and run and run the moment there is a conflict of any sort. (Example: Expecting a really important negative email = DO NOT CHECK EMAIL FOR WEEKS.) It’s really selfish to feel like this and to do these things, but I can’t help it. It’s become an automatic coping mechanism.

After having that dagger plunged between my ribs, I should have run. Like usual. I should have been weak and given up on ever earning back his friendship.

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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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Part V: Love Story [into the night]

HAPPY 26TH BIRTHDAY, MASSU!


(credit to yuchen85@lj)

I wish I could write more about this man and just fangirl about NEWS’s upcoming tour and single and fabulousness as a whole, but my manuscript for my summer class is due tomorrow by 8am so some other time, my lovely!

. . .

(Other parts: i, ii, iii, iv, vivii)

Another post detailing more illicit nightly activities in even more detail? Yes? Okay. Let your image of me go down the toilet!

It just gets worse from that previous Love Story post, folks.

I headed over to Manny’s dorm once again because he had invited me to a dance. He, his roommate, and neighbor Andrew were all going. It was a formal-ish event so I brought a dress to change into. Since I was used to seeing the boys in sweatpants and t-shirts all the time, I thought they cleaned up surprisingly well!

The walk/train ride to the dance was significant only because it was the first time he held my hand in public! Like I said, we don’t do anything in order, and this small yet sweet gesture had set off a flurry of butterflies in my stomach.

The dance itself wasn’t really significant, so I’ll just bullet point some details:

  1. Benji got some alcohol from some chick before the dance so he was drunk and weird throughout the night, fail!dancing with various girls.
  2. Manny was dancing with me while simultaneously watching out for his roommate in case the boy tried to to stupid things.
  3. …like run across train tracks as a train sped towards him.
  4. Dathan was at the dance! At 6’3″ and wearing a red dress shirt, he was hard to miss. He offered to drive us back to the boys’ college but he seemed to be having too much fun at the end so we decided to walk back.
  5. I cannot dance.
  6. Especially the grinding type of “dance.”
  7. Manny very kindly (read: blatantly) told me that I should learn how to grind better as us two were walking back to his college, a 30-minute walk.
  8. I was wearing heels. D:
  9. It was freezing. (And he’s anemic so his hands were ice.)
  10. We were starving.
  11. It was 12:30 am and quite idiotic of us to walk through the city at such a potentially unsafe hour.
  12. I was still mildly depressed and extremely socially awkward then so conversing on my part took some effort.

Back at his dorm, he found out that I hadn’t eaten in 9 hours (I never complain when I’m hungry to people who are not family because I don’t like sounding whiny :/) so he cooked each of us some ramen. I know, microwaving packaged ramen sounds ergh and cheap, but I didn’t care. HE “COOKED” FOR ME.

Then he surprised me by giving me two things: a personalized key chain with my name on it that he got when he was in Washington D.C. for a wedding during the Thanksgiving holiday, and a giant monkey for my birthday. I hardly ever receive gifts so it definitely caught me off guard. I’m sure I didn’t seem nearly as happy as I was internally but I was trying so hard to not tackle him in a hug (because he had a hot container of ramen in his hands).

But… let me confess it here. The key chain was the ugliest freaking thing I have ever seen. There. Manny, I’m sorry. It was hideous. IS hideous. And yet… I carried it with me in my backpack for the rest of the school year. Luckily for him, I am definitely the sensitive type who appreciates gestures, so I loved it and nearly burst into tears when I realized that he had searched for something specifically for me.

Then we went to brush our teeth together. Instead of letting me walk up a few flights of stairs to get to the girls’ restroom, he said it was fine if I used the guys’ one on his floor with him. And, of course, while we were brushing our teeth, two guys walk in and proceed to calmly use the urinals, all the while continuing on with their conversation with each other.

o.O

After food and teeth brushing was horror movie time, of course. I remembered the title of this one since it’s so famous. The Grudge. :D

As the movie loaded, he slid into bed with me and just sort of held me in his arms of sexiness. After a moment of burying his face in my hair, he murmured to me, “I think I might be falling in love with you.”

!!!!!!!

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Part IV: Love Story [gets even less family-friendly]

(Other parts: i, ii, iii, v, ivvii)

(EDIT: Did I seriously write IIII as the Roman numeral for 4? How mortifying!)

Let me briefly review the pre-college Mimi:

  • forever alone
  • slightly boyish
  • man-fearing
  • reserved
  • not a whore
  • not sexually desirable in the least

Got that image in your head? Good. Now THROW IT ALL OUT AS YOU PROCEED FURTHER INTO MY LEAST FAMILY-FRIENDLY ENTRY TO DATE.

I’m getting judged so hard for lacking morals how much of a slut I am my poor decisions. But, you know, my “no holding back” pledge. MAN, college changes you!

(Parts i, ii, and iii are here)

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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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Post-Breakup Twitter Flirting

So Manny and I broke up early morning Sunday.

But not really.

But… yes really?

Yet we both decided to not change our official relationship status.

Wait. What?

It’s just… complicated. I’ll explain it all in a Love Story post (that I really ought to finish like now, arghh) but for now just be aware that

  1. we’re still friends (he couldn’t sleep so he called me and I literally just got off the phone with him)
  2. the whole thing was more of a calm mutual agreement than a breakup
  3. before I said goodbye and left his dorm in the morning, he gave me a lingering hug and a sweet kiss on the forehead.
  4. he brought it up but I was the one who planted the idea in his head
  5. …we’re flirting more than ever now wtf?

Just — just take a look at this flirty/semi-threatening Twitter conversation.

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Part III: Love Story [in doubt]

(Other parts: i, ii, iv, v, ivvii)

The following journal entry is sponsored by Pinterest. Pinterest: It will steal your soul. Seriously, I got so distracted by that website (as demonstrated by my 800+ pins) that I have obviously spent far more hours on that than on homework.

My GPA: *cries*

Anyway!

I was supposed to be at a no-clothes-allowed party the Friday after the events with Manny on Saturday. No, not a nude party; we could wear anything but clothes. Sherry and her roommate Sera used duct tape and garbage bags to construct their dresses. I would have gone along but I swear my medicine is a sedative. So I passed out and woke up just as the party started at ten. Sure, I had time to assemble makeshift clothing before the party ended four hours later, but instead I got distracted and spent my Friday night crocheting and talking to my neighbor Faith about boys.

My college life, it is sad.

I returned to my room from Faith’s at one in the morning. If I had decided to go to sleep right then, the second meeting with Manny wouldn’t have happened and who knows if we’d be together now. But then Manny sent me a text, jolting me awake, and that kept me busy until four-thirty. I hate that we have to rely on texts to keep us connected but I guess it’s a necessary evil.

I promise, journal, I’m not going to describe every SMS conversation we have, just this one, significant because it was our first lengthy convo over text and because of what it led to.

He had casually asked about my plans for the next day. Upon finding out that I had none, he suggested that I come visit him, adding that he would come see me if it weren’t for his job.

This conversation had a bit of a flirty edge to it, and so it made me wonder for the hundredth time what his intentions were. I reacted coolly by pointing out that he had seen me just a week ago: wouldn’t he mind seeing me two weeks in a row? Inwardly, though, I was like YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES.

He responded by telling me in such a squee-worthy way that he wanted to see me. I think I really did squee, whatever squeeing is. That was all it took for me to agree. :Db And that was how I ended up at his dorm that Saturday night.

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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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Part I: [the beginning of our] Love Story

The shameless Tegoshi Yuuko would like to welcome you to my first post of the new year.


I really love this look on her. :Dv

Happy 2012, journal!

So as I watched NEWS cuts of the Johnny’s Countdown, I admit I was worried. This was their first live performance as NEWS-4; how would it go? Would they sound good together? What about their group dynamics?

I had no need to worry. It was imperfect perfection in my fangirl eyes. ♥ It WAS live and so they’re bound to sound differently in the studio when that time comes (soon? please?), but it wasn’t bad at all! Although Tegoshi’s vocals still overpowered the other three’s because his control is… :P

I am not the biggest fan of “Kibou ~Yell~” and so I do wish they’d stop singing it at practically every event -__-, but I’m just happy that they sang anything at all. And I know that song means a lot to NEWS fans. They apparently also did a performance of “weeeek” that didn’t air because of stupid commercials, grrr. They sounded great singing that V6 (?) song too. NEWS always does well during the group change medley, don’t they?

And they looked fantastic, together and individually! White works really well on these guys, and the LIVEx3 concert outfits made me feel all nostalgic. I like that they have different hair colors, teehee.


Shige holds his microphone in a way that makes me giggle. As Massu often says in interviews, his hands do look quite soft!


Is this another of Massu’s famous fails? Definitely in comparison with Tegoshi’s much more precise movements, It seemed like he had either forgotten some of the dance moves or he didn’t realize it was time to dance.

But in the dance routine with KAT-TUN and Koyama…


He totally made up for it. <3 My apologies, dear Koyama, but my eyes were glued to the fabulous dancer of NEWS.


Here’s to hoping this new year will turn out to be a NEWS year! Fingers crossed for lots of future fangirly posts!

. . .

(Other parts: ii, iii, iv, v, ivvii)

I found other songs that better suit my kind of romance but this song goes with the post title so let’s stick with it. :)

Even though it’s the name of a song, I hesitated in using that L word in the title, just like how I hesitate whenever saying it out loud in more than a “omg I love this cake!!!” way.

I only recently realized that I fear it, love. Loving someone, falling in love, being loved. It’s not so much a fear of being hurt, but rather of being the one unconsciously inflicting pain. I have the hardest time telling people those three powerful words, even to my family, so that means when I do say it — I mean it, truly and deeply.

I’m not saying I’m in love with Manny, noooo. That would be terribleeeeee. I’m treating this Manny affair as a short-term relationship because it’s so forbidden. I’m still a skeptic of the whole teenage love thing too, and like I said, I’m terrified of love in all forms. That is why I refuse to listen to my friends when I describe my feelings to them and they just nod their heads, saying “Girl, you got it baaaad” or “Sounds like love to me.” He is many of my firsts and logically I should feel very strongly towards him, more strongly than I’d felt towards any guy in the past — but it’s only a deep infatuation at this point. I wouldn’t exactly know what love is, anyway.

On to our history! Let’s make this as pointlessly detailed as possible, hmm? :DDD

Manny and I didn’t like each other as more than friends at first. Actually, I was in the beginning stages of depression at the time and was extra insecure and thought he hated my guts. You see, before he switched to his current job at Abercrombie, he was working at Hollister back then. He was walking a bit ahead of us that day, and Cappa, who loves to mess with him and feed him lies, told him that I too worked as a Hollister model.

I was already wary of him the moment I heard he worked at Hollister. Stores like Hollister and Abercrombie have a reputation for hiring only attractive people (or at least people who have a specific look), which automatically set Manny very high on the intimidation scale. But after Cappa joked about such a thing, I, not a model in any shape or form (even an in-store model which is really just a fancy name for a sales associate), shrunk into myself and died right there of mortification. He half-turned around while still walking, slowly looked me up and down, and sorta made this “uh-uh, no way is this ugly/unfashionable chick a model” face.

Me: God, will you kindly kill me now, please?

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