A historical romance is the only kind of book where chastity really counts.

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.

A man's face is his autobiography. A woman's face is her work of fiction.

Curiosity will seriously kill the cat.

I was talking to this British guy (haha--of course. Who else?) who currently resides in Ireland, and he said he was called Mr. Inappropriate when he got drunk. I said that I'd like to see him drunk. Well, the whole time we were chatting, it was pretty clean and fun until he did get drunk. Oh, boy, did the conversation get interesting.

He made all kind of sexual passes at me. Of course, I could have stopped, but I was bored and he was entertaining me, so I stayed on. He told me about his brother's fiancée, who he hated. He told me of all the time he made mean remarks about ugly and/or fat girls at the bar. He asked me if his chest was hairy and showed me. I said no, cause it wasn't that hairy. Stuff like that went on. Boy, was he inappropriate.

Anyways, he got drunker, and started talking about his exes. Faye, the latest one, broke up with him and went to Australia. He was waiting for her to come back to figure things out. He showed me their pictures. Faye was pretty, but Tara was one of the most beautiful-est girl I've ever seen. She looked like a doll with dark curls.

Anyways, I'm straying off topic. It was kind of sad, cause he obviously was still in love with Faye (I'd be in love with Tara, but that's just me). Anyways, it's not my business. It's just sad to see a person so heartbroken.

I'm glad he's a hilarious drunk though. God. Drunk people are like free entertainment.

Speaking of people I've met on Chatroulette. This guy I met a few days ago. Let's call him Monsieur Dow since that's his last name. At first, he looked like a sweet and cute Christian boy. Like, a much more attractive version of Michael Cera. But once he opened his mouth to speak, it's like, "fucking this" and "fucking that". At first, I was kind of put off by that, but once I get over it, I find out that he is very deep and very, very intelligent. He has an interesting views on life and love. He's also a nymphomaniac. Lovely, isn't it? The complete opposite of me. Completely opposite of what I thought he'd be.

But we talked today, and I could tell that we were very comfortable with each other even though he was very straightforward and doesn't curb his words. Like, it just clicked. He just seems like someone who could understand and he seems to feel almost the same way. It's almost like, "Ah, there you are. I've been waiting for someone like you to complete me." Well, if he was that person, then I'm half complete. He and I would take up half, for we each would take up a quarter. Then my best female friend, who I have yet to meet, would take up another quarter. Then the love of my life would be a quarter and would complete me wholly.

Okay, so apparently, I don't pick up on flirting cues. The guy that got drunk was apparently flirting with me ever since we started talking, but I didn't find out until he got drunk and when I asked him to start flirting with me so I could get a feel of how to do it. What is up with this?

Sometimes, I wonder if I was attractive as all these guys make me out to be. I mean, are they just saying it to be nice? Or are they bored of seeing penises and other guys and just want to talk to a girl? Doesn't matter if she wasn't pretty. Especially if she wasn't pretty because she'd be more willing to take off her clothes for them. Sorry, maybe I'm unattractive, but I'm not taking my clothes off for anybody except my British husband. And my mother. She has no sense of privacy.

Got my car back!

I wonder why I like looking at pretty girls? It's weird. Like, not them for real, but I'd like to keep them close. Like a collector. Is that normal? I think it's quite weird.

School doesn't start till 11 tomorrow! Can I get another woot woot? Then me and Mlle. Smith and possibly Mlle. Velasco too are ditching 1st, 5th, and 6th. That's how to end the week.

My Prom dress is done! Picking it up tomorrow!

Do not dwell in the past; do not dream of the future; concentrate the mind on the present moment.

Today was an amazing day! Us AP Art and Art History kids went roaming in Old Town Pasadena for the whole day and then stopped at the Norton Simon Museum to finish up. Before that, we went to Dick Blick, the most amazing art store EVER! The Art History kids were like, "Okay, whatever. It's just a huge art store", but the rest of us went crazy. I picked up a set of gouache instead of watercolour, a palette to put the gouache in, and a set of graphite pencils that go all the way up to 9B. 9B! I love doing dark lines! Mlle. Jang and Smith did almost the same thing, except Mlle. Smith bought Prismacolor color pencils because color pencils is totally her medium. Mlle. Jang is pretty versatile, and I don't know what she bought.

We had a blast chilling and eating before noon, when we were supposed to be at the museum. Anyways, since Mlle. Schneider and I are vegetarian, our group (Mlle. Smith, Jang, Schneider, Hai, Choi, and Murphy and M. Ward and Purwadi) had to find a restaurant that would accommodate that special needs. While looking for the restaurant, Mlle. Smith and I decided to split and go to H&M instead because I've never been there. We looked around, and I saw a bunch of bags that I would love to have, but since I already blew, I don't know, $45 at Dick Blick, I couldn't afford to drop another huge sum of money just because. So, Mlle. Smith and I each got a really cute dress and went to the dressing room to try it on and took pictures. We looked cute, if I do say so myself.

Then we got a call from Mlle. Schneider saying that they'd be eating at Johnny Rocket and I told them we would meet them there. We went to a frozen yogurt store and then to Johnny Rocket before heading back to the museum.

At the museum, our group got cut up again with only me, Mlle. Smith, Jang, and Schneider. We had to complete this scavenger hunt thing. It was fun, but when we were done, Mlle. Smith and I went out to the garden to take more pictures. We had a fun time.

It got so hot during the day in Pasadena, and I was wearing a black scoop-neck thermal with black tights under a white dress. Yeah, I looked nice (if I do say so myself), but not weather-appropriate. But as soon as the bus started, the breeze and wind came in and Jesus Christ, it took forever for me to de-tangle my hair after an hour of about 70 mph wind.

Then, I got home and worked on Mlle. Coleman's dress. Here it is.

There's three versions because she likes blue and green, but I detest the color green and don't really care for blue. The red one is personally my favorite, but this isn't my prom dress. So I drew up three for her to see her options.

And then I found out that M. Smith will ask Mlle. Smith (haha) to the Prom THIS WEEK! And I'm probably the first to know about it! I was so excited, I called Mlle. Jang to tell her. Mlle. Jang is very excited too. So now our bus has ten people. We have room for 22. So, that's, like, not even half yet. I am awfully fond of Mlle. Jang and wish she could come with us, but she is committed somewhere else.

I don't think anyone will ask me. I don't have any close guy friends. I kind of want M. Lythgoe to ask me, but I seriously doubt it. His ego is too big to risk a rejection. Plus, even if he does, transportation complications will arise.

I know I've been all "I can't wait to get out of her/this year to be over", but I think I will seriously miss it once it is over. I'll miss the people that I've spent years with, the people who love me and whom I love. Time has never been my friend, and it probably will never be my friend.

Of all the animals, the boy is the most unmanageable.

I've just remembered something from Thursday, the day we went to see "Master Harold" and the Boys that makes me kind of really mad. Mlle. Yasakova let it slip during a conversation that the reason she missed my birthday party was because she was on a date with someone she barely knew. He'd asked her the night before while I sent out my save-the-dates three weeks in advance. I wasn't paying attention, but now that I remember that part of the day, I am so incredibly miffed.

The Borders in O. is closing. I've had six years of memories with that store. Since my parents always take us to work with them, the bookstore was the only place to escape boredom. We would slip away every chance we got and hung out there reading books and magazines until it was time to go. And now they're closing it. Anchor Blue was closed a few days ago, but I am so much more bummed out about Borders closing. It's like a little piece of my childhood and memory taken from me. I wish things didn't change as much. I wish things would just stay the way they are, suspended in space and time, letting me come to terms with growing up at my own pace instead of taking things from me and forcing me to go faster.

On a happier note...when I was there today, I saw this little baby. Well, she wasn't technically a baby. She couldn't talk, so I'd say she was at most two. Anyways, I was reading, but every time I looked she was staring intensely at me. At first, I was like of surprised and taken back. Then I smiled at her. She just kept staring. I went back to my book, and when I looked back at her, she smiled at me. And then she gave me a little wave. Cutest little baby ever!

Here's another happy note...I talked to M. McElroy today! Eeek! That's terribly exciting. He called me and left me a voice message regarding my brother's piano lesson (oh, how boring. I wish it was about something else). I called back and got his mother. I talked to her, and she couldn't hear me very well and gave the phone to her son (thank God!). He wasn't very eloquent and he stumbled and um-ed a lot during our conversation regarding the time and place of my brother's performance, but he sounded very manly--something I heartily welcome after spending eight hours a day, five days a weeks in the company of immature, little boys. Anyways, we are coming over to their apartment tomorrow to take lessons, and hopefully I'll get to see him there, and, hopefully, he looks as good I as remember. There are few things better than gazing at an attractive male specimen.

Speaking of romantic interests, there's this guy that works for my parents. I don't really know his last name, so I'll just call him Monsieur X--since I am very fond of the painting Madame X, just saying. He's about 21 to 25, kind of nerdy looking--tall and thin and gawky, but it's cute that way. I never thought it would happen, but I developed a small crush on him last summer, when I practically lived at the shop. Well, it would have never worked out since we were from different world, and I very much prefer my world to his. Summer came and went, and I was no longer always at the shop. I met new people and surrounded myself with others who were superficially like me. Now that new variables were introduced, our old condition no longer applied. Our little world in the shop shattered, and my crush disappeared along with it.  The reason I mention him now is because I suspect the table's turned: he has a crush on me now. One can tell if one inspects closely enough, which I hope nobody is doing. It's a silly little crush, like my infatuation with him, and it'll be gone in no time.

Back to M. McElroy...nothing is going to happen with him either, I'm sure. It'll be highly inappropriate for him to be thinking of dating anyone while his mother is dying let alone one of her students.

Guess who bought another self-taught French book? MOI, bien sûr. That's probably already 90% of the French I know. Time to learn more.