If I had a single flower for every time I think about you, I could walk forever in my garden.

I feel so empty, like something’s missing. Last year it went away really fast, this feeling, but it’s been nagging me the whole day since the moment I woke up.

I’m going to be conceited and assume that he likes me too. I wonder why we like each other, though. We’ve never really talked before yesterday, but I’m always intensely attracted to him. I don’t think it’s lust because I’ve never had a sexual thought about him. I think it’s because, to me, he’s a mystery. His life outside the temple is unknown to me. I only know that he’s an orphan with an identical twin and family members in the temple. He thinks I’m this quiet and shy girl but I’m pretty sure it’s unanimously agreed upon by those who are close to me that I tend to share things that people would rather not know like…I don’t know…my bowel movements. Also, since he won’t make a move, I’m forced to maneuver myself in a way that allows him room to make a move without looking suspicious, so it’s kind of, like, a puzzle, an enigma, a code I want to crack. Manipulation, almost, but not quite. Like a game. I make myself available; his turn. He makes a move; my turn. Like, it’s enjoyable because the thrill of the hunt gets you high, but I think what has happened is that we’re both more into the hunt itself than we are with the prey. Follow?

On a side note, the state of New York has legalized gay marriage. I don’t know why I’m not there yet. That state is totally my state.

I found this really really really great dress. It’s a dress; actually, it’s this Indian robe or whatever. But it’s so adorable. I want it.

But things like that get me thinking. Like, marriage is like finding the perfect item for your closet. Like, I don’t buy anything unless I fall for it at first sight. Then I grab it and head to the dressing room where I try it on. If I don’t love it, then I don’t get it because if I do get it, I’ll never wear it and would have wasted money on something I don’t love when I could have used that for something else. If I still love it or love it even more, then I put it back and leave the store. If I keep thinking about that item all day or all week how it would be perfect in my closet, how it would go with these tights or those shorts, and if I still want it, then I go and get it. Usually, new items purchased this way are incorporated seamlessly into my wardrobe and usually become one of my staples. But I’d hate to be the clothes and have others try me on just for fun. That doesn’t sound too good.

Friendship needs no words - it is solitude delivered from the anguish of loneliness.

Best day of the whole year today, I think.

It started normally. We dissected a pig's heart today. Crazy exciting.

Anyways, so I was kind of ticked the whole day because this weird girl named Mlle. Choi was totally jacking my style, man. I just hate seeing what I always wear on her, especially when she's so awkward and not pretty. I don't know, there was something about her before that I didn't like. Now I definitely don't like her even more.

So what she had on looked like what I had on for the day, so when school was over, I came home and changed into a formal/corporate-y cocktail dress. I know, I should have just wore what I had on, but wore it better--not to brag, but I do anyways--but why should I when I could have worn something so much better? It's like, I'm moving on to bigger and better things...like this cocktail dress.

So, then I got Mlle. Jang to dress up formal-er too. I went to her house to help her pick out the outfit. Then I tried to get Mlle. Smith to dress formal-er too. Okay, that girl. She's freaking 18 but she doesn't know how to use a god dang computer? That's ridiculous. Anyways, we figured out how to work Skype and showed Mlle. Smith our outfits so she could kind of match.

The show was fun but uneventful. I didn't win anything. Neither did Mlle. Jang. But Mlle. Smith and Mlle. Tran the Younger won shit ton. Anyways, we had a fun time taking pictures.

Anyways, M. Ward had so much sugar, so by the time we got to the restaurant, he was high as a kite.

So, the restaurant was pretty dark, and when I walked in, I saw this really cute guy. I was like, "[Mlle. Jang], did you see him?", but Mlle. Jang just tripped so she was like, "Did you see me?" Well, she looked and said he wasn't that cute.

Anyways, he and this waitress named Kendal was our servers for the evening. His name was Eric. He wasn't there when she introduced him, and someone was like, "My friend thinks Eric is cute." I was dying. She said that it was his birthday today and that he'd just turned 25. Monsieur Purwadi immediately and quite loudly said, "Hey, he's within your age range too!" since I told him and Mlle. Jang yesterday that 25 would be the oldest I would date at 18. Kendal the waitress was like, "I can find out if he's single or not."

So he came out. We sung Happy Birthday. His name turned out not to be Eric. I don't quite remember what it was, but we each told him he looked like an Oliver, Ian, Thomas, and all that. Anyways, it was fun. We got stuffed and had a really nice conversation. Multiple, actually. Then we went outside and take more pictures.

I'm kind of very jealous of Mlle. Smith and M. Dow. It just seems like they look so much more attractive now that they're in a relationship. Grr. That's so counterproductive. You're supposed to look super hot and ooze pheromones when you're NOT in a relationship to attract potential mates. What are you doing oozing all that for when you're already taken? It's not fair.

So, I dropped M. Ward and Mlle. Smith off afterward. Then we went to Mlle. Jang's house and I let her try on the dress that I had on. It looks better on her unaltered, but there's a reason it's unaltered. Anyways, it's pretty easy to alter that dress for me--I only have to wear a belt with it. So she might be wearing that dress or the outfit that I've already picked out to this Korean concert.

Anyways, I came home and talked to M. Dow. I really really really like him--platonically, of course. I'm so glad I've met on Chatroulette. Sure, I've opened up a lot more, but I think he knows the most about me, and he says I know the most about him. We're just kind of using each other, in a way, I think. Like, an outlet. We both listen to each other's problems, and it's safe that way because they're, in a way, not part of our "real" world.

I asked randomly during the conversation that if he could change anything, what would he change. He told me about the step-father he had when he was three to five that really messed him up. He was talking about that and being lonely, and toward the end, he said he was so glad that he met me and that we became friends instead of him being just another contact on my Skype or another "friend" on my Facebook. He'd spend the day with his friends and girlfriend and come home and talk to me. Plus, he said he was glad that I was cute and great to talk to. Well, the feeling is very very very mutual.

I'm going to laugh so hard if he falls in love with a chubby black girl who has red hair and is a Mormon or something equally religious. Gonna laugh so hard. Like, no jokes.

Know what I'm going to do? Since I take a picture of M. Dow once a day anyways, I'll post it here.

It's kind of sad, but I'm glad other people feel lonely too. It makes me feel better since I'm not the only one.

I've realized that I don't always say very kind things about Mlle. Smith. Yeah, she's this way and that, but she's a very dear friend and a lovely person to have and be around. Maybe that's not apparent in this blog, but I know this for a fact and I don't want to keep having to repeat this. Unless, of course, I get really mad at her one day...but I doubt it.

Seduction is always more singular and sublime than sex and it commands the higher price.

M. Dow suggests that I should seduce someone.

It's just that we were talking about how he has his girlfriend, and now Mlle. Smith has M. Smith (haha). He says I should just go out and seduce a boy and get experimental with him.

Well, you know, it's pretty easy for him to go and say, "Just seduce some guy you think is cute." He has all the experiences and none of the inhibitions. I have never done anything before, and I don't know if I like the thought of toying with someone's feeling to relieve my boredom and loneliness. It's not really loneliness, actually. Maybe it's the desire to be loved by the opposite sex. I don't know. It just seems like since everyone's coupled up, I just feel kind of left out--not really. Like, sure I want to be in the same lovey-dovey relationship and do lovey-dovey romantic stuff too, I guess.

Anyways, the most farthest I've ever gone with a boy is sitting by him on the bleachers. Like, side by side. Arms touching. I remember how his arm felt really warm to the point where it was almost hot. It seemed to last forever, which was nice, but once it was over, it was over way too quick. Yeah, so the point is, I wouldn't know what to do, being the seductress.

Thing is...when he said that, I immediately thought of M. Lythgoe. I could always try. There'd be no harm done. We'd never ever see each other again after graduation until our high school reunion which won't be upon us any time soon. By that time, we'll be able to either forget about it or to laugh off the stupidity of youth.

But, let's say that I do succeed and he ends up liking me, what happens next? He's restraint by his faith; I by my family. It's just not going to work out. Plus, M. Dow says he'll disown me as a friend if I get with a Mormon guy. The last part doesn't really matter, but it's not as simple as it seems. Nothing good will stem out of it. He's Mormon; we won't hold hands let alone make out. Do I really want to lead him on (like he's led me on) and just leave it unfulfilled like that?

No, I don't.

The other option is M. Ward, but if I'm not willing to hurt M. Lythgoe's feelings, I'm definitely do NOT want to wound M. Ward in anyway. He's deeper and more sensitive. Plus, he's a lot closer to me than M. Lythgoe, who I barely know. Why should I spare a stranger's feelings but not my friend's?

Our Steak Night is on Thursday, right after the second to last Art Show. I'm excited. It's going to be a juried show. I hope I at least get an Honorable Mention.

Tomorrow, we're all walking to Starbucks for the first two periods. Yup. Exciting stuff.

Now that I've started sharing things with Mlle. Jang, I've felt less lonely. Like, a lot less. Which is good. Anyways, I kind of helped her pick out an outfit for this concert she's going to next Friday: black blazer, white, patterned tank, black shorts, black tights, and black flats. That outfit's so me, but hopefully it'll look more her when she has it on since her body shape is not like mine.

Beauty is only skin deep, but ugly goes clean to the bone.

Mlle. Smith and I ditched sixth period--Painting--today to go shopping. I bought my prom shoes at Charlotte Russe. It's not on the website right now, but I'll try to find it later. And then we went to Forever 21 and tried on clothes there. It was just really fun.

I think now that we've gotten past the fact that Mlle. Velasco and Yasakova ditched us and that they're not coming back willingly, we get on so much better and have a lot more fun than before because we no longer just sit around and brood about how boring our lives are.

I do feel bad when we're trying on clothes though. For some reason, I just know what kind of clothes work best for my body. I know how to accentuate my greatest assets and my greatest flaws equally. Boxy clothes and belts suggest wider hips and smaller waist--something I don't have. Scoop-necks and sweethearts shows a lot more cleavage, hinting that there is more--while the truth is quite the opposite--and, at the same time, divert attention from my decolletage to my clavicles. High-waisted shorts just outright lie and make people believe my legs are longer than they are. These kind of things to come naturally to me, so I assume that they come naturally to my friends too, since we're almost like peas in a pod.

Mlle. Smith picked the worst things for her body. I tried on this pair of high-waisted shorts and boxy, striped top and Mlle. Smith really liked it so she borrowed the shorts and paired it with a flowy top. Well, our torsos are completely different, so while the shorts look good on me, the shorts divided her in thirds and make it seem like she had no waist--she has a very slim waist--and short legs. I didn't know how to say it because whatever I said would have come off as "my body is better than yours", so I just said, "Okay, well, no we know high-waisted shorts are not for you." I hope she didn't think I was implying anything bad. I have pretty friends, and I don't want them to think of themselves as ugly just because something like this happens. She looks beautiful in belted dresses.

God, I should have said no when she wanted to try on the shorts. She already feels so very insecure about her "large" hips. Well, let me tell you, they are NOT large, and I don't know why she's so insecure about them. She's beautiful in her own way and I think she shouldn't compare herself to other people and should just be embrace herself. Seriously, when I pick my friends, it sounds nasty and all, but I choose people whose beauty aren't mainstream and people who aren't ugly. My friends are all pretty in their own unique way and that's why I'm friends with them. Then, of course, their personalities play a major role in how much more prettier they become in my eyes.

Then there's Mlle. Ocampo, who, at first, I thought was really ugly but is strangely pretty because of it. When we were friends, she got a lot more prettier, but the moment she back stabbed me, she got ugly again. Well, uglier, of course.

That's why I hated it when people said that I looked like her. I took it as them calling me ugly on the inside and out.

Since second semester of junior year till now, no one has and will ever make that mistake again.

Anyways, enough of the nastiness, Mlle. Jang got into USC! I am so proud of her but I--and several people--are getting mad at UCLA for rejecting us and letting people of inferior intelligence in. That sounds snobby and all, but it's true and it's how I feel. I hope M. Ward's gotten in as well because I think M. Ward deserves it more than any of us.

Mlle. Jang is keeping her fingers crossed for me and Barnard. I am keeping my fingers crossed for her and RISD-Brown,  who's sending their notification today along with Carnegie Mellon--another of her school. But I am less worried now that your truly's gotten into UC Davis.

It's depressing, but I don't think Barnard will accept me. Neither is NYU, nor Rochester. I will never get to leave sunny California. I can't imagine not being in New York. I'm 5000% sure Barnard's rejection will break my heart.

On a brighter note, Mlle. Lanter and Mlle. Lopez and I are planning a Heel Day at school on April 1st. So far, about 12 people are attending, eight maybes, four declines, and 54 awaiting replies. That's okay if only 12 of us do it. We'll be the 12 girls in school with great postures and killer legs.

Mlle. Jang's group for Prom broke up so now she might join us if we don't get enough (18) people. Yay!

I did not have three thousand pairs of shoes, I had one thousand and I did not have three thousand pairs of shoes, I had one thousand and sixty.

Poor M. Ward. He's been rejected from UCSB because of his excessive absence sophomore year--thanks, mono. While Mlle. Jang and Mlle. Lanter are waitlisted, he is outright rejected and seems to be taking it quite hard. I found this out yesterday and felt quite bad because a few hours before, I told him that he shouldn't worry and that stupider people have gotten in. I got his hopes up so I must be responsible for its crash.

So, the next morning (which is this morning), I went to Burger Barn to buy him a breakfast burrito since he always seems to want one when I have one. I bought Mlle. Smith one too since I owe her money and this would even us out. And then I completely forgot about Mlle. Jang, who would have paid me back. Oh, well. It's funny because my orders at Burger Barn are so specific ( two breakfast burritos with only salsa, cheese, and eggs) the staff remember me, which is nice of them and flattering as well. When I ordered the extra burritos from M. Ward and Mlle. Smith, the guy in the back who works the kitchen who I didn't even know that knows I exist (if that makes sense) came to the front and said, "Changing it up, huh?" and the girl at the register knows my name. It's a very good feeling. I will make sure to find out their names as well.

When I got to school, I gave M. Ward his burrito, and he tried to pay me back for it, but I didn't take his money. Later, he thanked me and gave me a hug. Well, M. Ward knows how to hug. Sometimes, I wish all the guys were like him. The world would be a much more inspiring place.

So, I've been obsessing with lace a bit too much lately. I think it's sexy and provocative in a classy way. I already have two LBDs, but if I were to buy another, I would try and find one that is long-sleeved with a scoop neck (a crew neck is okay too, but I personally prefer scoop necks). It is backless, in a way, because the lace will span the back and connect with the fabric (maybe wool crepe) at the small of the back and the shoulders. The result will be this simply sophisticated that needs no further accesory that I will wear over and over and over again.

Before Anchor Blue closed down, I went and bought, oh, I don't know, only five million white XL t-shirts from them because I liked the material and I was planning to make my own T-shirts. I made one for Mlle. Smith as a Christmas present and really liked how it turned out. So, now I have a bunch in my closet, and I haven't been inspired yet until like, five minutes ago. I want something simple but very eye-catching. This will do.

I don't want mushy stuff like a heart or love. I want my shirts to be simple yet grand at the same time. A peace sign is good, no?

We dissected a cow's eyeball today. It was so awesome. We got one that was really meaty, so this other girl and I hacked away until only the eyeball is left. We did the regular stuff, and the best part about it all was the tapetum lucidum, this thing that reflects light back into the eyeball that allows the animals to have superior night vision.

Barnard. What to do about Barnard? I really do believe in ESP now. My brain just feels depressed when I think of Barnard, and, it's hard to put it into words, but I think the brain is going into this mode where it is indifferent about everything, to prepare me for probably the biggest rejection and disappointment of my life. Just kidding. The greatest disappointment will be saved for medical school applications.

The Friday that M. Lythgoe asked Mlle. Pillado to Prom, I wanted to have the line "today is the day when dreaming ends" from the song One Day I'll Fly Away (Reprise) from Moulin Rouge. In the beginning, she sings, "Why live life/from dream to dream/and dread the day/when dreaming ends," because she was just ready to go away from the whole courtesan life that she had. And then she fell in love with Christian, and when their love was threatened, they made plans to go away, you know, the whole shebang. Then she found out that she had tuberculosis and that if the Duke couldn't have her, he'd have Christian killed. So, she had to make him believe that she didn't love him. So, she sang the Reprise before going to tell him that the plan was off since the Duke offered her riches poor Christian couldn't.

That scene is very heartbreaking. I cried. Like, really hard. So, I was going to put that for my quote, but then I was like, actually, I'm going to save that from the day that I get rejected from Barnard because it fits better there. I mean, it's just M. Lythgoe. Sure, he's cute and I'm kind of attracted to him, but he just doesn't matter much because I don't even like him that much. Gotta put things in perspective.

I've been drinking NON-SWEETENED tea since yesterday since I kind of blew that off a month in because I ran out of chamomile tea and had to drink yucky cinnamon and apple cider tea instead. That stuff is nasty without, I don't know, ten tablespoons of sugar. So, to get back on track to detoxing and cleansing my body for Prom, I've picked up my tea habit with:

which has chamomile, blossom, and, best of all, rose petals, which makes it taste kind of like rosewater--or what I imagine rose water to taste like based on its smell because I'm not stupid to drink fragrance water. Just saying.

My shoes came! Me and two other girls are planning a Heel Day at school! I am so excited!

Isn't it weird how depressed and forlorn I felt before and how excited and happy I am now? Hormonal much? I kind of want to go on the pills to regulate this and eliminate the depression, period. But I don't want chemicals and stuff to mess up my body and possibly leave me infertile--I mean, I know I'm always going on and on about how I don't want to give birth, but I would like to have options, thank you very much.

What you do speaks so loud that I cannot hear what you say

I did ballet when I was really little--not yet five--and I remember being in love with it so much that I often got to the studio half an hour early just so we could get things started without wasting time. I was very dedicated and the ballet teacher loved me. A couple of weeks in, the program got canceled from some reason and I took up aerobics instead.

I recently found out that I can take fundamental ballet classes at the local community colleges. The nearest ones are an equal distance apart from me, but the one in V. is a lot better location-wise since my parents' salon is in O while the community college in M. is better option-wise. I really want to take the class. According to the previous years' schedule, the class is two times a week for three hours at a time. God, I want to take it so bad. I just need to wait for them to release the summer schedule and talk to my counselor about it. I'll probably stop by the class after finals to check it out. I've just emailed the instructor to ask for her permission.

I just need to get active, you know? Being active releases endorphins and endorphins make you happy. I can tell depression is trying to creep on me again. The last time I got depressed was horrible. I never want to go through it ever again as long as I live. I felt it when I was cleaning out my closet last Friday, so I changed the music station to more upbeat and mindless songs. It usually comes when the weather gets warm. That's why I hate the summer. There's this air that comes and messes with my mind. It's really fresh and makes me nostalgic. The summer of sophomore year was really bad. That was when I got really down. I didn't feel like meeting new people because I reasoned we would all have to part eventually, so there was no reason to give myself a heartache every single time. I wanted to be a hermit then, living all by myself in the mountain, isolated from everyone else.

Looking back, that plan will never work. 1. I'm not a nature person. I hate forests and trees and all that stuff. 2. I'll go crazy being by myself for that long. And 3. I am incapable of being by myself for that long.

Anyways, I'm hoping this class will give me a healthy dose of endorphins to ward off the blues. Plus, Mlle. Smith and Velasco are actually kind of interested in taking it too--surprisingly. Well, I'm glad.

Speaking of Mlle. Velasco...we went shopping today at Forever 21 after school because they are having this huge coats sale and I am in need of a coat or two. She's been looking for a job for a while now but no such luck. I feel bad while we look at stuff because she doesn't want to spend money because she's saving for college--which is what I'm supposed to be doing too, but we are talking about a desperately needed black coat. Anyways, we had a good time nonetheless and I got a really cute black coat. It is shorter that what I wanted, but it is amazingly cute. Plus, it was fifty percent off the original price. I'm glad we hung out today so she wouldn't feel like we're leaving her out when Mlle. Smith and I go to V. to take pictures of Mlle. Johnston and go shopping afterward.

Plus, Mlle. Smith is coming over tomorrow to model for me for my portrait projects. We'll take pictures of each other before the good light goes out. Hopefully everything will go well. I am extra self-conscious now because my mother's just told me that the asymmetrical-ness of my face is more prominent now that I'm skinnier thanks to my vegetarian diet. Well, is it really my fault that my dad and brother who can both eat regular food always pig out on my vegetarian food and leave me with nothing to eat? Of course not.