I hope to stand firm enough to not go backward, and yet not go forward fast enough to wreck the country's cause.

Okay, so my mom keeps mentioning M. Paff. She keeps saying how he looks so nice, and I'm just thinking to myself, "His hands are really nice too." And she thinks we should be friends, and I'm just like, "Oh, you have no idea." She's just saying that. Once she knows he's my friend she'll feel threatened. She thinks which ever boy I decide to date will lead me away from her.

Trust me, I don't need a boy to do that.

So M. Paff got me addicted to League of Legend. Yay. We play together online, and this game totally explains why he's gone reticent. It's a full-screen game and it's a pain to check Skype while you're in game, so what we do is call each other and turn off the videos and just play.

Yes, it's very nerdy. Haha.

Mlle. Johnston's all moved in. So is my cousin and Mlle. Hatfield, who came over the other day to give me my graduation present. It was incredibly awkward because there was really nothing to talk about because I've been hanging out with Mlle. Johnston so much more than I have with her, and everyone knows those two hate each other. So Mlle. Johnston calls me at dinner because she's lonely and I'm like, "You need to hang up the phone and make friends. Like, now." And she says we have to Skype later. So she Skypes me and says that she's made two new friends and one of them is Vietnamese and that I have nothing to worry about because the Vietnamese girl is nothing like me and she likes me so much better. Well, I'm glad.

Speaking of high school friends, Mlle. Yasakova's recently decided to reconnect. Are you serious? No, I'm out of high school and I want nothing to do with that drama. Nonononno. I'm done. You ditched me. It's nice that you want to reconnect and make nice, but I'm done. I'm over it and I've already moved on. I'm way gone, actually.

I saw M. T. Bland (the twin that I didn't have a crush on) the other day at McDonald's. He was working there and he saw me and he looked happy, you know, like, yay, someone I know. I was like, "HEY...can I get a big Mac?" and he got confused and disappointed because I guess he was expecting more of a greeting than that. Oh, god. I definitely screwed that up. Oh, Jesus, I did. We asked each other about college and stuff. Then later, my brother went and ordered a smoothie or whatever, but the cashier gave him the wrong one, so M. T. Bland saw his hesitation and asked me if something was wrong, and then he fixed it for us. That was really nice. When I left, I said "bye" to make up for my awkward greeting.

There's a reason it's called 'girls gone wild' and not 'women gone wild'. When girls go wild, they show their tits. When women go wild, they kill men and drown their kids in a tub.

So M. Paff and I have gotten back to our normal selves, talking regularly. He invites me to go with him to this band’s preview thing, but I obviously can’t since I live an hour and a half away and gas is really expensive right now. So he goes by himself and meets his ex there. I get home, and the first thing I get is a text from him saying, “WHY THE FUCK DID MY EX DRIVE AN HOUR AND A HALF TO SEE A SHOW SHE WASN’T INVITED TO?” and I’m like, “To see your lovely face, of course.” Apparently, he ignores her at the show and she texts him afterward asking why he didn’t talk to her because she wanted to talk to him because she missed him. Like, at the point, I feel really bad for her because those lines remind me of the time when he was mad at me. He’s extremely unsympathetic toward her because he says she was a bitch to him before.

But the thing I’ve noticed about M. Paff is he doesn’t really have any good relationships with the female population. His ex is a bitch; his mother is a bitch; his sister is a bitch. I have a feeling that if our friendship ends badly, I’ll join his collection of bitches.

He has no enemies, but is intensely disliked by his friends.

So my mother was stalking my Facebook last night and found out that I listed "Atheism" as my religious affiliation or whatever, and she freaked out! And then today, she's like, "So...that boy from Chino Hills who's going to UCI with you looks very nice/cute." I'm like, freaking out on the inside while I think of all the things that link me and M. Paff together on Facebook. There's one picture of us. That's about it. And I'm like, "How do you know him?" Oh, I just STALK YOUR FACEBOOK. No biggie.


I've resolved to not talk to M. Paff if he doesn't talk to me, but when I get home, he greets me with a funny/playful hello and I tell him about my mother's stalking. Then it gets quiet after that. Then I'm like, "Maybe it's just me, but sometimes you seem like you want to talk, but when I talk to you, it seems like you don't want to anymore." He says I'm being paranoid and I should stop freaking out. I'm trying! Believe me, I am.


Then we talk--okay, more I talk--for a bit more before he says he needs to go do something and that he's telling me now so I won't flip out. Well, thanks for the heads up.

I'm glad this is over. Jesus, it was a pain in the ass.

Then I talk to M. Dow for an hour. Like, we haven't really talk-talked for a while. We've been IMming on Skype, but not like, a sit down and talk thing. It's nice to talk to him again. He's fun, and I like that.

Then I talk to Mlle. Jang for a little bit. She's reading this and she knows what we talked about so there's no point in repeating it.

Then M. Paff and I actually talk for a little bit before he goes to bed. You know...about time!

You won't find a solution by saying there is no problem.

M. Paff is mad at me but he doesn't know why. How mad? An 8 on scale from 1-10. Oh, boy.

I don't know what I've done wrong. I think he knows; he just doesn't want to tell me and that pisses me off because I've been under the impression that what we have is an honest and open relationship where I don't have to keep asking questions to find out what's wrong.

He says it got started the day he was depressed. Well, okay. So, the day he was depressed, these things happened:

-I videochatted with the kids from camp and they screenshot a picture of us doing messed up faces.
-He saw the picture and jokingly accused me of videochatting with them but not webcamming with him.
-It was late, so I talked to him for a bit and wished him goodnight.
-He seemed depressed so I stayed up a bit later to cheer him up. 
-He went quiet and said he'd be fine and I should go to bed.
-After a few more tries, I went to bed.


This morning, at 1ish, he Skype me. We have an stilted conversation where I can't decide whether to let things smoothly go back to the way they were or give him a hard time because at that point, I'm pretty pissed off as well. I don't want to do either so I choose the middle road. At one point, I flatly ask him if why he's talking to me again. He says he just wants to talk. I ask him if he's still mad at me and he's not. I ask him if he'll be mad at me again tomorrow because I have a feeling he's talking to me out of boredom. He says he'll be mad again if I keep bringing it up. Then I tell him I'm going to bed, but I return after a few minutes telling him about how I can't decide on how to treat him. Then he decides to go to bed. He goes 


Yes, we're both being very mature about this, I know.


I should have been nicer to him. I think it was awkward for him to talk to me again. I feel bad when I reread the conversations, but what's done is done.


Then, tonight, we kind of have a quick conversation where I as before he disappears again.  Like, seriously, if that's not ignoring someone, then I don't know what is, and I tell him so. Then I find out he hasn't been on Skype. Oh, dear lord. Then we're back to having one-word conversations again.

Love your enemies just in case your friends turn out to be a bunch of bastards.

M. Paff is driving me INSANE! Oh, my FUCKING God! He's gone almost completely reticent; he's not like that normally.

I text him saying, "How come you don't talk to me anymore?" He gets defensive and accuses me of sounding like his girlfriend and I'm like, No, I just wanna know why we don't talk anymore. He says, "Cause shit happens." When I ask him about the "shit" he says he's going to bed. What the fuck?

Then I say, "I hope you have nightmares, shitwhore," because we always call each other stupid names like that, but he thinks I really mean that. I say, no, I don't mean that, and he says "BS...you're pissed that I haven't been online and now you're pissed that I'm going to bed." Well, I'm pissed, but I don't hope you have nightmares.


Why can't he just say it instead of avoiding the issue? Avoiding it won't make it go away.

I'll be so pissed if it stems from the fact that we kissed. Or if he had some stupid dream where I did some messed up things to him.

A friend is one of the nicest things you can have, and one of the best things you can be.

M. Paff is being a bitch. The other day he was depressed and I was trying to help and now he's ignoring me. What? Okay, well, I'm not contacting him for the whole night today. If he doesn't contact me, I'll call him tomorrow to see what's wrong. BOO.

All God does is watch us and kill us when we get boring. We must never, ever be boring.

I remember why I have been avoiding hanging out with Mlle. Smith. She's so boring. All she talks about is M. Smith because he's the only person she's been hanging out with this whole summer. Every time I do something that remotely deviates from ordinariness, it's, "Oh, my God, you're so weird," or "Oh, my God, you're so awkward." Well, I'd rather be weird than be ordinary and boring.

The thing is, when I'm with Mlle. Johnston, she joins in on the stupid shit I do. Like the other day when she comes over in the middle of the night. It's fun; it's spontaneous; it's not boring. 

Friends are kisses blown to us by angels.

I lost my first kiss today. Sigh. I don't feel any different though. Kissing is a lot wetter than I thought it would be. Well, I mean, you are sharing saliva. It's not as amazing as I'd hoped. It's nice, I guess, but I'd much prefer necking and nuzzling. And cuddling. Definitely cuddling. The caressing was lovely as well.


M. Paff is very good with his hands. It's not what you think. Our clothes stay on since we watch the movie in his living room with his mother upstairs. But, my God, is he good with his hands.


What I love the most is how subtle and smooth it went. I initiate it first by putting my head on his shoulder. Then he slowly gets his hand closer to my thigh and lightly traces circles over my tights. Tracing leads to more tracing and brushing and touching and all that.


I would love to go into details, but since I'm sharing this blog with two other people, it's nobody's business except for M. Paff's and my own. But, goodness, it's like a little dance; I like that.

Well, since Mlle. Johnston and M. Dow are my confidantes, they know how far I've gone today. Well, M. Dow knows a bit more since Mlle. Johnston is a real person and it's a bit awkward to tell her sometimes. Haha. But she comes over at midnight cause I call her at midnight and I'm like, "Hey, I have to tell you something," and she's like, "Want me to come over?" and I'm like, "Sure." And she comes over and we giggle about it in her car. Well, she's the only real person beside M. Paff and I who know of our special relationship. Everyone else thinks we're just friends. Well, we are just friends.

Now that I've kissed him and all that, I think I can totally handle this whole separation of love and intimacy. Like, the whole time, what we do feels good, yeah, but I totally don't feel anything romantic feelings for him whatsoever. Like, we're getting all the sexual tension out, you know? That's good. That's great, even! But, you know, it's the first time. We'll see how it goes.

But it's nice being with him like that, you know? So much better than David since David has clammy hands and sometimes I feel nasty when he puts them on me. But M. Paff's hands are very nice--I think I've said that enough.

Got my haircut. Kind of really like it. Got sidebangs and got the ends trimmed. YEAH.

Now that M. Smith is gone, Mlle. Smith feels horrible and she wants to talk to and hangout with me. Thing is, I don't want to hangout with her. I feel like it'd be such a drag. But then I feel like such a bad friend for ditching her NOW. I don't know. The right thing to do is to hangout with her, but the desirable thing to do is to move on.

I should start thinking about a new name for the next blog since I'll be done with this one the day I move out. I need something clever and witty. Whatever, I have 33 days to figure it out.

A bit of lusting after someone does wonders for the skin.

So, my morning consists of thinking about M. Paff and I, watching Friends, and talking to M. Paff. Of course, only I would pick the worst outfit to wear to Skype him: a strapless romper with a pearl necklace. Well, when I put the ensemble together, I thought having my hair up would be a nice finishing touch since it would accentuate my naked shoulders. The thing is, if I have my camera angled too low, he'll get a nice view of my cleavage--or lack thereof. If I angle the camera too high, my face is viewed from an unflattering angle, and I sure don't want that. The "right" angle spans from just above the neckline of the romper, which makes me look naked--and the pearls and the up-do definitely emphasize that. M. Paff wants me to call him if I get bored or to tell him things, like how we've called each other at our SPOPs. I call the camp and they tell me there won't be any cellular service. Of course. For five days. Yup. Lovely.

Then I drive the kids to camp. It's a very nice place. It's remote--which explains the lack of phone and Internet service. When we get there, there are three other people already there. One of them is a dude called Nick and with him is his sister Neaty. Nick looks 16, but he's actually almost 20. Neaty is my age. And later comes a girl from Peru named Angie.

Nick is such a nice guy! He knows beforehand that they make us eat vegetarian food here, so he stocks up on beef jerky and all that. He shares a piece with me, a stranger, after I take a dump--that last bit is privy to the general public. Then he notices that my sister's left the lights on in my car and walks me back to my cabin--the farthest one from anywhere--and to the car and back. And when I lose my keys, he helps me look for it outside in the dark late at night.

Just for future reference, my keys are in my suitcase the whole time.

I talk to my sister about staying until Friday, and she wants to do it. Well, we need to convince my mother because I really want to hangout with M. Paff.

Of course, now that M. Paff knows that I want him to make the first move, I think I'll lose my kissing virginity the next time we hangout. If he doesn't want to make the first move, I will. I kind of want my first kiss to be of me kissing someone, not someone kissing me. M. Dow says that the chance of M. Paff rejecting me is very, very low unless he's a homo. Well, the thing is, M. Dow thinks I'm an 8.3; M. Paff thinks I'm a 6 since he's gay and doesn't want to do decimals like the rest of the normal people population. Yeah, so M. Dow thinks I'm attractive, but M. Paff only thinks I'm decent. But at least his dad thinks I'm really hot, which I hope plays up that whole "if a lot of other guys think she's hot, then she becomes hotter in my eyes" concept. Yeah, I sure hope so. But the thing that pisses me off is he things this hideous girl is an 8 and Mlle. Johnston is a 5. I'm like, "Hell, no. Your rating system is jacked up."

But then again, Thursday seems too soon. It feels like I should wait more to make us want each other like mad and then get together then it'll be crazy. Plus, I haven't waxed my upper lip yet.

If your heart was a prison, I would like to be sentenced for life.

So I thought about M. Paff the whole day. Well, to be more accurate, I thought about M. Paff and I being together and kissing the whole day. Well, then I got bored and stopped thinking about it.

Friends marathon today. Season one. Yeah. Good stuff.

I talked to M. Paff for a bit after he got to Palm Spring. We talked on and off until his dad realized that he was talking to a friend, and he made M. Paff give me a tour of the house. Then we resumed talking until he had to go to dinner. Then I returned to watching Friends. Then at night, I talked to M. Dow--who I haven't talk to in quite a while. I told him about the situation and he was supportive. We had a good conversation, and he told me to keep him updated. Then we talked about his girlfriend--who he thought was beginning to feel clingy. Then we talked about the attractiveness of men and women. Then he had to go to bed.

Season two. Yup. Where Ross and Rachel kind of get together but don't.

K. I'm going to switch to the present tense now. It's a less awkward way to talking. Then M. Paff comes back and we talk/flirt. One thing leads to another and we end up talking about things that turn us on. Well, I know what turns him on, but last time we talked about that, I opted out since I wasn't that comfortable yet. But I'm comfortable now, so we talk about that. Well, nice and naked shoulders turn me on, especially when they're rubbed by nice hands. When M. Paff learns about that, he immediately takes off his shirt and starts rubbing his shoulder with his hands. Oh, my gosh. I try to look away, but my face gets so warm and I'm clearly blushing. M. Paff clearly enjoys it.

I don't know when I'll see him again, but I hope that when I do, I'll actually get some action.

Just saying.

If you live in rock and roll, as I do, you see the reality of sex, of male lust and women being aroused by male lust. It attracts women. It doesn't repel them.

So M. Paff and I hung out today. We went to Yogurtland and then to the movie.

Um...so...the whole time, I wanted to jump him. We were sitting next to each other, and he was using the arm rest, leaning toward me, and I was leaning toward him, but we weren't touching. But then toward the end of the movie, we were sitting, leaning toward each other with our shoulders touching. It felt good; it felt natural. My chest felt really warm the whole time--which felt really nice. Once, this ugly ass alien popped up and I grabbed his arm and squeezed it--out of fright. I was kind of disappointed when we got back to his house. His mother was in a pissy mood so I couldn’t come in, which meant I just dropped him off. Maybe it was just my imagination, but he lingered a bit, but I hurried him out since I didn’t want him to miss his class at eight and his mother to hate me more. Last time I got a really nice hug. This time I didn't really get anything.

So...I consulted my guy friends who were on on Skype. M. Foghi said no, don't tell him; if he wanted me, he would have jumped me. M. Monge said to hangout with him more and let things flow. Wow, that was helpful. M. Giusti said to tell him but it might get awkward.

Well, once he got on, I asked him what he was doing. He said he needed to do homework, and I was like, “Do homework.” And he was like, “What’s wrong?” and I was like, “Do your homework first,” and he was like, “No, no. What’s wrong?” That went on for a while because I’d rather not rush it and I was stalling for time since I was still waiting for M. Giusti’s opinion since he seems the most sensible out of all the guys I know.

Well, after beating around the bushes for a while, I told him. He didn't get it, so I actually had to say that I wanted to lean over and kissed him. Then there was a pause and I thought he was freaking out, but he said that I should have done it since he was thinking of making a move--which was why he suggested that we sit in the back--but didn't since he didn't want to freak me out. 

Then I asked him where we were, and he said he thought we were still in the same place. Well, definitely not. K. I’m going to switch to the present tense now. So I find out that he sees me differently than he does his other friends, that I’m in between being just friends and a crush—like, a five or a six if one was completely platonic and ten was crushing. Well, he’s kind of the same way for me, but he’s probably a 7.5 ; it’s a good thing he doesn’t know that. I’m definitely more attracted to him than he is to me. But I still don’t like him and he still doesn’t like me.

It’s weird, but I want him to think about me; I want him to like me, because if he likes me there’s a very good chance I’ll like him back. But then that just seems like I’m waiting for him to like me so I can like him. I didn’t restrain myself; I was just a coward.

We’re going to give this friends with benefits thing a try. First promise to myself broken.

At first I’m excited. Then it starts to feel wrong; I feel emotionally drained and tied down—which is ironic since I’m not in a relationship. I tell M. Paff I’m having second thoughts and he says it’s okay. So now we’re just friends, which makes me feel slightly better.

Do not follow vain desires; for verily he who prospers is preserved from lust, greed and anger.

Um...I want to kiss M. Paff, but I don't like, like him. Does that make sense? No, of course it doesn't. It doesn't make much sense to me either, but every time I see him, I want to jump his bone--without the actual deed, of course.

So, yeah. We're hanging out in person tomorrow. Let's see if I can control my urges.

Friends can be said to "fall in like" with as profound a thud as romantic partners fall in love.

I can’t seem to get M. Paff out of my mind after that conversation we had the other day. And then yesterday, we were talking and he was worn out from SPOP and telling me about it that he was falling asleep—kind of. It was cute; it makes me want to actually fall asleep next to someone I actually like. You know, like, after a long day, we lie in bed and talk to each other—maybe cuddle a little bit—and just fall asleep like that. Wouldn’t that be nice?

And then today, we were kind of IMing on Skype. I was reading mangas like the geek that I am and talking to M. Monge at the same time and M. Paff was just doing whatever. Whenever I stopped talking, he would ask if I’d gone to bed. When I asked why he’d ask that, he told me not to worry about it. Then it got late, so he said he was getting off. Before he actually got off, however, he said, “Thank you for being you. Thank you for being here. And thank you for being a friend. It means a lot to me.”And, of course, I freaked out because I thought he was going to commit suicide. I made him promise that he wouldn’t. He wasn’t planning on committing suicide but promised not to anyways. Then I told him he meant a lot to me too. He said that something happened earlier today that ruined his whole day and it just “made me glad to have found people like you.”

Day made? Kind of?