To the world you may be just one person, but to one person you may be the world.

So, Mlle. Johnston seemed bummed out that I couldn't make it to her last ballet recital, but she was understanding. However, she was mad at her other friends who could go but didn't go. Especially M. Kelly, who came but left after the first act.

When I saw her at nutrition, she looked like she was about to cry, so I was like, "Hey, are you okay?" She was like, "No." So I looped arms with her and we walked down the hall. She said she felt like she didn't have any friends anymore--no offense to me. None taken; I knew how she felt. I gave her a hug and suggested that we make cookies at my house after school. We always wanted to make chocolate chips cookies without the chocolate chips.

We finished dissecting the fetal pig today.

Mlle. Jang got a new camera, so she went on a picture-taking frenzy.

So, Mlle. Johnston and I went to Vons to get the stuff. We wanted whipped cream, but we didn't know where to get it, so we were looking for a Vons person to help us out. We couldn't find anyone, so I was like, "Dare me to ask some random stranger where the whipped cream is?" She was like, "Don't do it!"

So I went up to this little kid and asked. His face was like, how the hell would I know? I couldn't keep a straight face the entire time and we just busted out laughing. He looked pretty confused when we did.

We got home and realized that we had no eggs. So we ran downstairs and asked my neighbor, who I've never spoken to before; I'd only smile on the occasions that I do see her. She was like, take two eggs. And Mlle. Johnston was like, do you want us to bring back an egg when we get more? She was like, nah, it's all good.

So we ran upstairs and shifted the chocolate chips from the powder stuff. Half an hour. Then we baked it. Really great cookies! We put ice cream and whipped cream on them and I went on Skype to show Mlle. Jang to make her jealous. Then, out of habit, I video called M. Dow to show up. The first thing that bitch said, "Wow. You have a friend?" Fuck you. That's why I have this cookie and you don't. Mlle. Johnston loves him and wants to talk to him again.

That's awkward because Mlle. Jang knows about him first, but we've made plans so Mlle. Johnston will talk to him with me tomorrow. Mlle. Jang's gonna be a bit annoyed about that.

We watched Priceless and Mlle. Johnston suggested that we should do what she did, and we should try it on the ship. Seducing men...that's my forte.

Our goal is to get older (well, older than us) men to buy us drinks on the cruise since we can't buy any. Yup. That's us. Seductresses.

So...since we ate whipped cream on ice cream on a giant ass cookie, we got high off of sugar. Like, crazy high. So, we went on Chatroulette and excitedly told this guy our whole adventure. He was a good audience. He listened patiently while two girls jabbered on and on and on about not having eggs and chocolate chips. Then we gave this guy dating advice, but he got creepy, so we nexted him. It felt great being high, but the crash was horrible. We just sat there, I was trying hard not to fall asleep because Mlle. Johnston was there, and it'd be horribly rude to ask her to leave. She left at 9 and I think we both just died in bed that day.

I felt good because I made her feel better and not so alone. Plus, she 

The trouble with having a stubbornness contest with your kids is that they have your stubbornness gene.

My car broke down. I'm incredibly pissed. Grrr. It's an old car...it's understandable, but now my legs are broken and I have no way of getting around.

Mlle. Velasco signed my yearbook today. She blamed herself for our drifting apart. It was weird because in her yearbook, I said that I held her blameless for it. We simply grew up and grew apart, but she felt so bad about it. She wrote a whole page, but I only wrote a little bit in hers. Once I saw that, I quickly got hers back and wrote more in, but they were all memories from sophomore and junior years.

My God, my MOTHER. I cannot stand her. She wants to send my little brother to boarding school! What the fuck? She's just trying to escape her maternal responsibilities. She says that we're burdens, but "good" burdens. No burden's good burden. That's bullshit. Poor thing. He doesn't want to go, so he cries, and she tells him to man up and stop crying. I feel part responsible for it. Ever since I've been "acting out," she's been gradually switching her affection to my brother. While in my presence, she emphasizes that she loves him "the most" now. It's like she taking her claws out of me and digging them into him. But she won't make the same mistake twice. She'll make sure to brainwash him more thoroughly than she did me. She'll make sure he won't have any other aspirations than those she has for him. He won't be able to escape.

It sounds horrible, but I'd rather it be him than me. That's incredibly heart-wrenching, but it's the complete and honest truth. I'll try to help as much as I can once I'm out, but if it means being trapped again, I'm booking it.

107 more days until I move out.

To bring up a child in the way he should go, travel that way yourself once in a while.

My mother...Oh. My GOD.

I can't see why she doesn't accept me as a person! I'm a real life human being with my own aspirations, likes, and dreams. I'm not a piece of clay that she can imprint upon me what she wants. I'm not a clever pet for her to show off to her friends. I have thoughts and emotions too. This morning, she chewed me out for the way I do my make up. She wants me to stop doing it the way I do it. She wants me to stop dressing the way I do. I'm sorry, but I dress very conservatively. You almost never see my legs because they're always covered. Me and overexposing never go in the same sentence.

Yes, she gave me life and sustained it for 18 years, but to assume the power to dictate how I live and what I do with my life is a bit excessive. She says that I should just study from now until the day I become a doctor. Are you fucking serious? That's another ten years of my life. She's already lorded over me for 18 years, and now she wants to do it for ten more years? I don't fucking think so.

She says she'll stop when I'm married. Fuck that. I'll marry some hobo off the street just to get away from her. And divorce him, of course.

She's given me an ultimatum. Either lessen my make up, dress her way, and suppress my wills, and we'll get along, or do it my way and get the fuck out and never speak to her again.

Yup.

And then there's M. Dow's mother. Oh, my goodness. I feel so bad for him. She needs to stop dating and bring wackos into the house. M. Dow was telling me about what happened to him in elementary school and his previous stepfather. It's heart-breaking. I don't know what to say. I told Mlle. Jang snippets of it but not the whole thing because he's asked me not too. Like, he usually doesn't care, but when he does ask me to not do something, I respect his wishes and not do them.

Previously, Monsieur Foghi was talking to me via Facebook Chat. Oh, my goodness, that kid...he's so ARGGH! I don't know what is wrong with him! He doesn't bug me because I'm used to him, but if I didn't like him (platonically), I'd be incredibly annoyed. So I logged off of Facebook and talked to M. Giusti about sex and drugs. Exciting stuff.

Then Mlle. Jang and I talked about our family. WHY CAN'T THEY JUST ACCEPT US FOR WHO WE ARE?

Anyways, speaking of friends, Mlles. Jang and Smith wrote in my yearbook today. I wrote a long one for Mlle. Smith yesterday. It's basically just a summary of our senior year. I talked about meaningful things, I think. Like, I kind of poured my heart out a bit--not to be cliche. Then I wrote Mlle. Jang's. It's nice and long too, but half of it is a list of things we will do...like, getting married before 30 and having attractive and intelligent children (who we won't force into impressions of ourselves like our MOTHERS did).

Mlle. Smith wrote me a really long one too. It was very heartwarming. She too included the friend drama we had and how she was glad that I was there to listen to her problems. Then she talked of the future. Today, I straight up told her, "Hey, promise me you won't marry [M. Smith] and live here forever." She laughed but took me seriously and said, of course. Good. Now she'll definitely grow.

I think I've figured out why I can't talk to her as much. It's kind of crazy...I can't see auras, but I can sense it. Mlle. Smith has a really bright aura. Like, nothing seriously bad has happened to her. I just feel like dragging her down and dirtying her with my problems when I complain. So I try to keep my complaining to a minimum because no one likes a whiny ass.

Today started out bad (oh, God, definitely) and went up and stayed up.

But, Mlle. Pearson! Oh, my GOD! She is SO annoying! Jesus Christ. Sometimes she's funny, but she's just so crass and inappropriate.

Not gonna lie...that shirt is kind of gay.

Even if one takes every reefer madness allegation of the prohibitionists at face value, marijuana prohibition has done far more harm to far more people than marijuana ever could.

So...I did it...It wasn't as good as I thought it'd be. M. Dow said I did it wrong. Asshole. I was watching romantic love scenes from movies to get myself in the mood, and then he freaking sent me porn to look at. Well, that totally negated everything I've been doing that evening.

So...when I was doing it...it's just weird...like, it didn't feel particularly good...but, good thing is...I definitely know that I have a vagina and am NOT a hermaphrodite. You know what that means? I can go swimming on my period because I can finally know where to put the tampon.

Yesterday night was a waste of time. My mother took me to the temple to mediate. I was sitting there, half day dreaming, half nodding off, for one freaking hour. During that time, I let out a bunch of loud ass yawns, involuntarily, of course, because even I am not that rude. Yup. Boring boring boring.

M. Dow says I should try smoking pot and gives me the reasons why. I look at it and now I just feel so misinformed. I kind of want to try but don't at the same time. Like, I'll try it at least once before I die, but I don't want to make a habit out of it. Maybe it's the fact that it's illegal that makes it alluring...like, having a double life.
I told Mlle. Jang about the above. She's pretty open to it, I guess, but she's sticking to her own conviction, but she's willing to talk about it. Like, she's not just dismissing it without hearing anything.

MY MOTHER! She doesn't like me wearing a lot of make-up, which I don't. But, I'm like, "Well, I like doing my make-up this way." And she says that she doesn't care if I like doing it that way because I'm living under her roof and still have to follow her rule. Boo. So I'm out next year. Whoot whoot. But then sophomore year's still not down yet.

A bunch of us are dressing as pirates tomorrow.

(HAHAHA, I was reading this days after I posted it. ^ is not intentional!)

Women dress alike all over the world: they dress to be annoying to other women.

I was bored because Mlle. Jang was at a concert and M. Dow was busy sleeping off his crazy and sex-filled night. I was on Chatroulette for a while.

Okay, so...I don't know why, but people keep thinking I was a GIF. Just to be amused, I ask them to demonstrate that they too aren't GIF by doing stupid things like hopping in a circle on one foot. Then the girls...Jesus...why is it that us girls are so mean to each other?

I got two instances when a girl with her friends flipped me off. I just ignored it and waited for her to move on. One did. The other didn't. She stayed and typed "ugly". I ignored it, put on my lipstick since this guy got tea and it got me to want to drink tea and drinking tea wears away the color, and wait for her to click NEXT. She didn't. Instead, she typed in "bitch". At this point, I was kind of annoyed, because she was UGLY. Like, I think girls are generally really pretty when others obviously don't think so, so when I think they're ugly, they're definitely super ugly. So I was like, "Are you jealous because you're ugly?"

Her face was priceless. It's so mean of me, but I felt so triumphant when I watched her face, right before I nexted her. That's kind of horrible of me, isn't it?

Then I went and talked to Mr. Inappropriate (A.K.A. Monsieur Peel), the funny drunk. I thought he'd been avoiding me because he was embarrassed by what he's done, but he was just actually very busy with work. He had a fun conversation today with him whispering at first. He then got a text from his flatmate to tell him to shut up. I talked and he typed after that. He's just very funny, but I don't think he'll live for a very long time. The man drinks all the time.

The reason I bring this up is because when we were talking, I guess I was being cheeky and he said, "If you weren't cute, I'd be annoyed with you." I've actually been feeling pretty all week, so I'm going to take things from that point of view. Attractive people get preferential treatment simply because they are easy on the eyes. It's not fair if you look at things from a plain person's perspective...actually, it's not fair PERIOD. But those who receive the preferential treatment obviously won't complain. The thing is...how long will it last? My skin won't be this tight forever. It'll lose elasticity. Gravity will eventually get to me. What happens then? Then I'll actually have to use my personality to attract people. How frightening considering the fact that I don't have a very attractive personality to begin with.

Wow. I wonder how I got on all these years.

M. Dow wanted us to do what we did the other day. But he was horny, so I acted as the sane one for the both of us and reminded him that we promised it wouldn't happen again. He logically agreed. Glad he did because

Mlle. Smith...I wonder what will become of her. I can't imagine her outside of Camarillo. What if she just finishes college, gets married to M. Smith (haha--but this is no laughing matter), stays in C-Town, and starts the cycle all over again? I hope not. There's definitely more to life than this provincial town and I hope she gets to experience it and not live the rest of her life out like my predictions.

There are no good girls gone wrong, just bad girls found out.

So...since I didn't finish my homework, I told my parents that school started at 10:30 today. I slept in and took my time getting ready. When I was getting ready, M. Patterson from New York Skyped me and wanted to talk. Well, a few nights ago, he got home drunk and started flirting with me like crazy. Why is it that I'm only attractive to my family, old people, creepers, guys on Chatroulette, and drunk people? For some reason, he was under the impression that it'd get a bit warm next time we talked. I talked to him today before he left to Chicago. It wasn't a horribly flirty conversation when we were face to face--I'm glad.

But how exhilarating is it to do what he does? He's going away to Chicago for the weekends. No need to ask permissions. No reasons to not go. I'm extremely jealous. He's in control of his own life.

Anyways, then I was going to do my homework, but my dad kept asking me to call to various companies to fix his mistakes. When that was done, I started to write my Hamlet essay but then M. Dow and M. Manwaring came out Skype and both wanted to talk. At this point, I was just planning to wait till my family left and just ditched school all together and just emailed Mme. Berman the essay.

M. Manwaring is now in China. He loves it there! The culture, the people, everything. That guy is so full of life. He's Mormon, so of course he's a virgin.

And on the other end of the spectrum, there's M. Dow, the nympho. We discussed the deal some more. I wanted my reward to be for him to date a girl that is fat and ugly (since he hates fat and/or ugly girls) for a month and for him to treat her like a human being that she is. He didn't like that. I also specified that our deal would be null and void if I had a boyfriend during that time. He agreed to that, but he didn't want to put a time limit on it. He said it'd go until we were 80. How lovely. Me...an 80 year old virgin.

He sent me a link of Richard Dawkins speaking about militant atheism. It's a great speech, actually. He's mad eloquent. I'm kind of hopelessly in love with the way he uses his words.

Anyways, when M. Dow were talking, we kind of talked about oral and anal sex. I think oral sex is nasty. Like, you're sucking on something that leaks urine, the body's waste product, but M. Dow says that the girl doesn't come in contact with urine unless the guy pees right before. I don't know. I just think oral sex is nasty and unnatural. But, why? Why is it nasty and unnatural? I can't think of any reason why it would be. Anal sex, however, is a whole different story. Yeah, that shit is never gonna happen.

Yeah, well, I'm getting away from the point. I told him about this cartoon that I read. It basically says that sex is a natural act; killing is wrong and illegal; so why is it that it is more socially acceptable to play games that involve killing people but it is not okay to play games that involve sex?

Like, all my life, I've been taught that sex is dirty but necessary, like, just lie back and think of England. But it's a natural function of the human species. My mother probably definitely has a horrible sex life and she always says that I should wait till marriage. Waiting is my choice anyways, but she waited till marriage. She didn't have a good one, so/but she turned to religion fanatically to fill the gap, I guess. I'm not religious. I actually find atheism very very very appealing now. It's late. I had a good argument earlier, but I've lost it now.

It just seems like all my life, I've been told what to think by my mother and her religion, I've never really questioned anything around me (oh, God. THAT part is especially true considering all the things I eat). My mother! She raises me to not ask questions. When I tell her facts and my points on gay marriage and things, she says, "You think you're so mature and smart that you talk back to me? Don't argue with me. Just listen to what I say." End of convo. Lovely relationship we have. She thinks I'm a child. I think I'm going to go batshit insane if I have to live with her for another year. That sounds really mean, but I can't stand her forcing her ideas down my throat and her telling me to not question and just accept her authority.

Anyways, I ended up ditching till 12:30 when my parents came back home! They were like, "You're still here?" I was like, "Um...I'm on my lunch break! Forgot my lunch at home." They bought it and I drove it school to attend one class. At least I didn't get in trouble.

Haha. Good girls are just bad girls who don't get caught.

I took a picture of M. Dow in the morning since he's having his girlfriend over and they're doing what bunnies do. Minus the multiplying.

There is no art in turning a goddess into a witch, a virgin into a whore, but the opposite operation, to give dignity to what has been scorned, to make the degraded disireable, that calls for art or for character.

Tonight was Senior's Awards' Night. It was long and boring and full of mistakes, but Mlle. Jang and I had fun with my camera in the meantime. I don't think I would have had that much fun if I was with Mlle. Smith--who won shit tons of scholarships that night. Mlle. Jang just seems more spontaneous and more...I don't know...open to stupid stuff.

I've reached the decision that M. Lythgoe is no longer cute. Maybe he was cute last semester, but this semester his facial features look too big for his face. Mlle. Jang rates him a 5. I rate him a 7.

At one point, Mlle. Karch was called up. They announced her school and how much money she got. It was the weirdest feeling. Like, I was so proud of her and what she's gotten, but I also wish I was going with her to New York in the fall. I don't want to go to UC Irvine. I really don't. I'm looking forward to leaving the house, but UC Irvine was my back up, definitely NOT where I wanted to go. Now I have no choice.

If I can just pin these feelings to my heart and have them with me always to remind me to work hard the next four years so that I can banish the feelings of disappointment forever.

I went home and talked to M. Dow while editing the photos of Mlle. Jang and I. During the conversation, M. Dow commented on the itchiness of his balls, and I said, "That's lovely. Now scratch them." He read it as I'd scratch them for him. I said I wouldn't scratch them for a thousand dollars. He said all girls were prostitutes; some just had higher prices than others. I got mad and told him off, but he was just joking, and it was just like, damn it; he always does that to me.

Anyways, he said, "My new goal in life is to make you scratch my balls." I was like, hell no and something along the line of his best chance to ever get me to do that was to make me like him. He said he could do it within two months if he was over here. I was like, "I'm NEVER going to scratch your balls. It's NEVER going to happen." And in the midst of the argument, I said if he ever got me to willingly and consciously scratch his balls, I'd throw my cherry in as his reward--if he doesn't have a girlfriend at the time--because I was--am still--THAT confident that this little situation would NEVER happen. He was like, "Deal." Well, not "deal" because we haven't figure what my reward would be if I won. He suggested an epic massage. I said, no, since I would lose something important to me, so he would also need to lose something important to him. He said I could always do him with a strap-on. He showed me what it was, and there's no way in hell am I doing that to another person.

Then we moved on to something else, but he eventually said something like because I was using my virginity as a reward for him, I subconsciously thought about and wanted to lose it. But how weird ironic fitting interesting would it be if I lose it to him, the one person who talks to me about sexual things and such.

He then teased me about how I thought we were falling out. Oh, God. We are definitely NOT falling out now. We video-chatted and got a bit flirty. Just a bit. Not much. Like, if there was a line between the platonic and romantic, I would say we stepped on it that night. Maybe because it was late and my parents were home and the lights were out on both ends and he was in his bed and I in my little dress, but I thought it was a bit intimate. Like, not terribly romantically intimate. We just felt really close. Anyways, I was whispering because I didn't want my parents to hear. He was saying how he was feeling sleepy, since it was 12 AM for me and 3 AM for him, but he didn't want to sleep. Eventually, he was kind of nodding off and asked me to help him have a good night dream. So, I told him a story. "Once a upon a time, there was a nymphomaniac who lived in New York. He was very homophobic and very misogynistic, but one day he woke up and realized that he was actually gay and was very into having sex with a strap-on. He also discovered that he had a diarrhea fetish." At this point, he asked me to stop my pleasant story and asked me to tell him of another one. I did, using myself as the main character. I mapped out how I wanted my life to go. We talked a little bit more and ended call.

My homework remained unfinished.