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.

A girl and a guy can be just friends, but at one point or another they will fall for each other... maybe temporarily, maybe at the wrong time, maybe too late, or maybe forever.

So SPOP was okay. It was boring, but we got to know each other a tiny bit better on the second days. I was very apprehensive about going to UCI in the fall. On the first day, all I could think about was how I didn't like it, how there were too many Asian girls here, and how it all felt so suffocating. On the second day, I didn't mind it as much.

After that, I drove to Monsieur Paff's house and we went out to eat. He was cuter in person than he was on Skype, and I was self-conscious at first; I couldn't hold eye contact with him for a long time.  It was disguise-able in the car, where my eyes were supposed to be on the road anyways.

When we got to the restaurant--a neat little place where M. Paff is friendly with the manager--the manager looked at me and then looked at M. Paff knowingly, like, "ooh, you got a girl", but when we asked for separate checks, I think he realized that we weren't together.

At one point, when we were sitting in a booth across from each other and talking, he smiled and I thought he looked really adorable; when he talked, he sounded adorable, but I didn't have a crush on him. I might have been a bit attracted to him, but I definitely did not have a crush on him.


After dinner, we went to a nearby Asian market because M. Paff had always wanted to go but never went because he said he felt weird going to an Asian market as a white guy. We did. He was fascinated. Then we went to the movie theater, but the movies were too late, so he asked his mother if I could come to the house. Surprisingly, she said I could; I just couldn't come upstairs to his room and get impregnated. Busted.


He introduced me to his mother and sister and his sister's boyfriend, then we went on his laptop and just had fun. When it was time for me to leave, he walked me to my car and gave me a hug. Like, a really good hug compared to the crappy, awkward ones the guys from Aldor, my hall for SPOP, gave me.

A man who exposes himself when he is intoxicated, has not the art of getting drunk.

Oh, my God, Mlle. Johnston needs be more selective. So after David and I left, she and Phil were supposed to leave also since he was all kissing her face. Well, she went and got her stuff only to realize that Phil was gone. She was pissed, so when this Filipino asked to buy her a drink, she said yes. Then he followed her around. I don't know how she shook him off when she was so drunk, but she did before going back to the room. She told me all this at 4:30 in the morning because I accidentally locked her out.

Mlle. Johnston and I visited Ensanada, Mexico today. There were a fuck load of guys in cars who kept honking at us. I think the "Best Pick Up Line" award goes to the guy who stood in front of a shop and went, "Come in, ladies. Models pay less." It feels good to be checked out wherever you go; it makes you feel desirable and almost invincible.  Yes, I never knew being viewed as a piece of meat could feel so good.

Anyways, we went to a bar and each got a margarita, but Mlle. Johnston also got a shot of Kahlúa. I felt off after I drank a bit more than a quarter of it, but I drank a quarter more. When I moved, it felt like I was moving faster than my brain could register. Like, my brain was slow in registering it. These two men came to the bar and talked to us, but we left a bit after that. Mlle. Johnston kept giggling, but I was okay. Actually, I felt very witty and clever, and I like that feeling. It was just a bit off, and I thought if I would just walk slower and more deliberate, no one would know that I was tipsy. The paranoia was kind of fun; it made me feel like I was on a secret mission.

We found David a bit and played cards with him. The waiter that Mlle. Johnston fancies was outside one of the clubs, and I told her to go talk to him since it would be a bit inappropriate for him to talk to her since he worked there. So she was like, "I've seen you around a lot," and he was like, "Yeah? Where have you seen me?" even though we thought this whole time he was looking at her at dinner. Boo. What a douche.

So we played cards and the Filipino guy came. Okay, so when Mlle. Johnston and I were sunbathing this morning, he came over and it was majorly awkward and she was avoiding him. Anyways, the table has four chairs, and we used the extra chair as a place to keep our purses. He made a motion to sit down, but I was like, "We're waiting for someone to come," so he stood there as the three of us played cards. Once it got really awkward, David suggested we go to the Deck Party, and we left. The Filipino guy didn't follow us, thank God. But the Deck Party wasn't fun, so we went to the karaoke thing, and it was hilarious to watch drunk people sing. Then we went to the Rex.

Like, since we played cards and stuff together, I thought our relationship was purely platonic but when we were back on the dance floor, it was me and David dancing together again. Okay. No big deal since we were just two friends dancing together. But after a while, he put his arms around my waist and we repeated what we did yesterday. It was all fun and good.

And then there's Mlle. Johnston. Since David and I were dancing together, she got bored and had a smoke. This guy came over and asked for a smoke too--when we were discussing the night later on, I told her to not give out her cigarettes anymore; it's supposed to be the other way around--and they started talking. K. Thing is...while we were dancing, I saw him have two bottles of beer, and when they started talking, he asked for a bottle of beer, a disco ball, and a shot each for him and her. Yeah. She was sensible enough to know that she couldn't finish all that. She only drank the disco ball, and she told me to drink it with her when he left for the bathroom. I did; it was yummy.

David and I danced some more before he said we should go check on Mlle. Johnston. We've been checking on her periodically through out the night, and she seemed like she was getting on well, but David wasn't convinced, so I came over, and I was like, "Hey, you okay?" and she was like, "Yeah, I'm okay," and I was like, "You don't seem okay," and she didn't seem okay then because the whole time we were talking, he had his hand on the back of her thigh, near her ass. She pushed him away for a bit and scooted closer to me and whispered, "I think I'm drunk; I want to leave." I said, "Well, then let's leave," but she was like, "He's gonna follow us," and I was like, "It's alright; I can take care of him," and she was like, "No, you can't. He's in the Marines," and I was like, "Well, David's gonna help us out, so get up."

We told him--his name was Scott. Boo--that we were going to walk around. We took the elevator up to Lido and got pizza to buy time. Then Mlle. Johnston announced that she needed to go to the bathroom, and I said I'd come with. David and Scott went outside onto the deck. A few minutes later, David came back and the three of us literally ran to the elevator and David delivered us safely to our room.

Mlle. Johnston thanked David and I for being good friends, and David said, "Well, I consider you guys my friends which was why I played cards with you guys. I only play cards with family and friends, not strangers." Well, I'm glad we've made a good friend.

Then Mlle. Johnston and I talked about the night. She complained about how I get nice guys and she gets creepers. Well, I bail when I sense the creepiness. She just needs to learn how to say no.

Oh, yeah. So on the first night, before things got going, we were really bored, so we just hung around the Atrium and people-watched. We spotted a group of cute guys, but they looked pretty douchey, so we just planned on doing some quick and harmless flirting. But when we decided on what to do, they began to leave, so, on a whim, I stopped them to ask for the time when they walked past us. Well, the guy who answered had on a red shirt that said "Canada" in white. When David and I were dancing together on the first night, guess what shirt he was wearing. Yup, but when I asked him if it was us who asked for the time, he didn't remember. But he figured out that it WAS us tonight. 

All women are flirts, but some are restrained by shyness, and others by sense.

The day is starting off horribly. I had killer cramps yesterday so Mlle. Johnston gave me Midol to help, but there's caffeine in Midol and I took it at 2 AM since we got back at probably a bit later than half past one.  I was up till 3 writing the entry for Monday but still wasn't tired or sleepy, but I forced myself to sleep anyways.

But you know those uncomfortable and headache-inducing dreams where the same dream and a couple of its variants are looped over and over again? Normally, I would realize something was off and woke up, but I guess I was so tired physically that I couldn't escape it. Well, I guess I did for a couple of times but I couldn't tell the difference between the dreams and reality so I'm not so sure. I woke up a few minutes before six despite going to bed at half past three. Why couldn't I be like this during the school year?

The whole day, I felt off; Mlle. Johnston kept asking if I was okay. I was; I just didn't feel like eating or doing anything productive. We went to Catalina and went back because I was feeling very lethargic. I intended to sleep for half an hour but ended up napping for only 15 minutes and couldn't sleep anymore.

Mlle. Johnston took her time and forever getting ready for the formal dinner. I wore my black prom dress and Mlle. Johnston wore this tiny little black dress that made her look really hot, especially with the red lipstick. I was pissed when she took forever to get ready but it was partly out of jealousy since she looked hot and more appropriate than I was since the people who bothered to dress up wore homecoming or cocktail dresses so I stuck out--which turned out to be good since there were a bunch of people complimenting me on my dresses. However, the waiter that Mlle. Johnston fancies didn't even properly glance at me twice, but he did a double take for her, so it's all good.

We went to the Flashback party, which was a dud since it was more for much older people. We bailed on that and went to the Comedy Show. That was hilarious.

Then we came back again for the Salsa dancing, which was officially called the Latin Party. We met David and Phil there with their other cousins. We danced with them even though none of us knew how to dance to this kind of music. David suggested that we should go to the Comedy thing at midnight, since we would have a great laugh instead of dancing awkwardly to Latin music.

So we went got that, and the seating arrangement was lIke this: Mlle. Johnston me David, which was a bit awkward since I thought he was interested in Mlle. Johnston more. During the thing, Mlle. Johnston leaned over and whispered, "I think you should kiss him...you have to make the first move." I was like, "What? But he likes you though." She just laughed and shook her head. So during the skit, whenever the comedian said something outrageously funny, I would laugh and bump into him or lightly touch his arm. Well, I received no response so I stopped. No hard feelings; just a confirmation that I was right.

We went back to the club and, thank God, they were finally playing our music. Okay, so when I walked in, I saw this really cute guy staring at me, so, for some reason, I held his gaze for the longest time as I walked to the dance floor with a smirk on my face. Then David came in and we danced together for the whole night. Sometimes he would put his hands on my waist, and, not wanting it to be awkward, I put my arms around his neck. Sometimes I would lean in closer, and he would hug me even tighter. If it got to that, I'd just put my head on his shoulder and rest for a bit while dancing, if that makes sense. His shoulders were a tad higher than I could reach, so it was a bit like me putting my head on his chest, my nose against his clavicle. The whole time, I was just thinking how good, how much better this whole situation would be if it was somebody I actually liked...well, like, have romantic feelings for.

Having said that, the next part will seem so illogical. When we were that close to each other, I wondered what he'd do if I kissed him on the cheeks. Well, I decided to see for myself, so I tiptoed and leaned in, aiming for his cheek, but he saw me moving in, so he thought I was going to kiss him; well, he turned his head so I could meet his lips. I think our lips did brush, and since I didn't end up where I intended to, I panicked and slid over to where his cheek was. It was awkward, not gonna lie. On a scale of one to ten, this incident is a solid seven. When that failed, I returned to his chest/shoulder and kind of laughed in his neck. I guess he could feel it since he kind of nuzzled back and hugged me tighter.

Mlle. Johnston said that Phil thought I was being a tease for not grinding on David. Mlle. Johnston said that I should grind on David since "it's fun." I've considered it and decided that since I'm not comfortable doing that and since I think it makes me feel and look cheap, I won't be doing it--I think I totally fucked up the verb tenses in that last sentence.

Point is...I try to keep it clean and classy--well, my definition of clean and classy, that is.

And then, you know, I launch into another story of my flirtation for the night. So...I kept getting really thirsty, and David would come with me to get water every time. He's such a gentleman; all those time that I got water, he was always the one pouring.  So my foot was kind of cramping up so we just stood side by side, arms touching and just kind of grooved to the music. He was going to go to UCI--small world?

Toward the end of the night, we sat next to each other, and I had my head on his shoulders. Then I asked if he thought I was a tease and he said "not at all." Then I think I nodded off on his shoulders for a bit. Like, a few minutes. After that, we went to get the schedule for tomorrow, and he walked me to my room. 

Adventure without risk is Disneyland.

So when we first started, Mlle. Johnston wandered around the ship. I don't remember what our purposes were, but, truth be told, we were bored and disappointed that guys didn't hit on us. Conceited? Very. I guess we were just trying to look busy until the club opened, which was 10 PM. We got followed by a bunch of black teenage boys who were hitting on us. We stupidly went into this empty bar where they kind of cornered us until my daddy walked in. He didn't know what was going on, but I told one of the kids that he was my daddy and he was an ex-Marine; they all scrammed after that. Mlle. Johnston was a bit peeved that I did that since they kind of were our source of fun. We chatted with this cute Australian fitness trainer; he seemed nice enough, but I don't think he was interested.

So at 10, we left for the club, where NO ONE was in. Lame. So we went to watch an okay show with dancers and comedians. Then we went to the Single and Ready to Mingle event at the same club as before (it's called Rex, by the way), and we were like, "Okay, if there's no one there, let's bail."

There were some people, but the people dancing, at first, were mostly drunk and unattractive. They all couldn't dance, so we didn't dance at first because we didn't want to be associated with that. But we finally went for the dance floor fifteen minutes in. At first, I was so nervous because there were about eleven people on the dance floor, so Mlle. Johnston and I were very easily seen and easily judged. Plus. Mlle. Johnston is a dancer and she danced very sexily, and I didn't want to be compared to that.

Well, I got into it soon enough and this guy named Nick came up and introduced himself and said he saw me in the parking lot earlier in the day and thought he's come and say hi. I introduced myself and we kind of danced together in a group, but I got thirsty, so I went to the bar to drink water.

Well, I was by myself since I told Mlle. Johnston to keep dancing, and this older guy came up and introduced himself; his name was David and he saw me around the pool and thought he'd come over and say hi. Seriously? Like, you can't come up with something more clever than that? He turned out to be 29. Eww. Twenty five is my cut off age. Plus, I was sitting in the stool next to him and I could smell the liquor on his breath. Monsieur Dow told me once that I should just try just sit there all pretty and not be all that talkative, and if a guy's truly interested, he'll bend over backward to keep making conversation. That kind of did happen even though I didn't intent for things to go that way; he'd keep saying something and I'd comment on it politely and that'd be it. This one song came up and I was desperate to get rid of him so I was like, "I LOVE this song!" and started leaving, but then I felt bad so I was like, "You wanna come with?" and of course he followed.

I returned to where we were dancing, where Nick grabbed my hand and started to twirl me round and round. It was fun at first until I realized that he wanted my butt, which had been facing the corner to avoid unwanted grinders, to be right in front of his crotch. Hell no; I'm not going to let some random ass drunk guy I just met stick his junk in my back business, so I kept twirling and twirling and keeping my butt to the wall. Problem solved.

Then Mlle. Johnston got thirsty and I went with her to get a drink, with David of course. He offered to buy us drinks, but I didn't want to get drinks from him, so I politely declined. Mlle. Johnston wanted some though, but they wouldn't let him buy it for her. He let her drink some of the stuff he was drinking even though he knew we were 18. I thought it'd be okay to leave her with him for a few seconds since he was so awkward and I was sure that he'd not do anything inappropriate with her, so I left for the bathroom multiple times that night since Aunt Flo is a bitch who won't leave me the fuck alone. I was wearing my tight stripe dress which looked lovely, but it was so tight that if I wore a pad, it would be visible to creeps who stared at my butt. I'm having major problems with tampons so toilet paper was the next best thing even though that meant I had to change often. Aunt Flo is much like my mother, who came to the Single and Ready to Mingle event and WATCHED us. Thank God we were not doing anything inappropriate when she was watching. Moments before, Mlle. Johnston was smoking and grinding on someone--not at the same time of course. I asked her to leave, and, surprisingly, she did without a hassle.

Well, that is...until I got bored of sitting at the bar once when this funny black guy grabbed her hand and pulled her onto the dance floor. I saw this cute guy dancing by himself and started dancing in front of him. Gradually, we got closer and closer but never close enough for any part of him to touch me even though I would sometimes accidentally brush his knees or upper legs. We were having a good time until I saw the funny black guy dancing with another woman but Mlle. Johnston was nowhere to be found. I kept dancing with the same guy, but I kept looking around and found her with Creeper David at the bar and he gave her something to drink. I kept dancing around, but moments later, she and Creeper David was gone and I couldn't find them anywhere.

At this point, on a scale of one to ten, my freaking out level was a high 6. I don't get freak out easily; almost nothing even gets pass four, so six is pretty high. I stopped dancing and started looking around. Since my back was to the bar when we danced, I asked my dancing partner if he'd seen where she went. He didn't know, but he  went with me to ask some of the people who worked there for her whereabouts, and one of them got us to the right place. She was smoking where we were sitting when the club started, but then I saw Creeper David uncomfortably close to her. I tried asking her if she was okay from where I was dancing but I'm nearsighted and that club was dark, so I couldn't tell. I didn't want to just come over there and dragged her over. At one point, she came over and she was like, "Hey, are you okay?" and I was like, "Are YOU okay?"

She wasn't, but he followed her to us, so I grabbed my dancing partner's shoulders and spoke to his ears, "hey, is it alright if she dances with us? That guy's 29." He said it was okay, so I immediately grabbed her hands and we danced with my dancing partner too. Well, Creeper David came on the dance floor and started dancing with her again even though my dancing partner and I tried our hardest to keep them separated.

A few minutes later, another guy came and grabbed my dancing partner and shouted to me, "This is my little cousin!"  I laughed and waved hello to the "little cousin" and the older cousin started dancing with me and his cousin. Suddenly, I grabbed him and said, "can you dance with my friend over there?" he was like, "yeah, sure" and he grabbed her and pulled her toward him while Creeper David was still grinding on her. They had tons of fun dancing thisclose to each other while Creeper David watched on; he didn't leave till much later.

When the problem with Mlle. Johnston was situated, I turned to the little cousin and thanked him. I asked him for his name and he said "David." Great. He asked for my name and I told him.

Anyways, throughout the night, David was dancing very, very close to me, but I always backed away while dancing. Sometimes I would be backed to the wall, but I always found a way to turn and go the other way.

Anyways, at one point, I put my hands on his shoulders to ask him a question, since he would lean closer and give me his ear. Well, this time, for some reason, I kept it there a bit too long, and he took it as an invitation to put his hands on my waist, where they eventually slipped down to my hips. So, when the faster beats came, I took my hands off his shoulders and threw them in the air; to shake off HIS hands, I jump-danced and turned around. Bad move. He grabbed my hips again and now my butt was to him and I could feel him trying to get closer. I was just trying to inch unnoticeably forward to counteract his moving forward. Then the faster beats came again and I danced just out of reach. Disaster averted.

Toward the end of the night, there were only three couples on the dance floor and I was the only one of them not grinding and touching.

At one point, I got thirsty and told David. He came with me to get a drink and Mlle. Johnston and the older cousin--Phil--came over too, but before they did, this guy asked to come between David and I when we were talking to grab some water. No big. He accidentally spilled some on my thighs and he said, "Sorry" to me and turned to David and said, "I'll leave it to you to wipe it for her," with a wink and left. I wiped it myself before he could get to it. Mlle. Johnston told me that Creeper David just grabbed her ass and started grinding when she was smoking.

Phil left and Mlle. Johnston danced with us. There was only one couple left on the dance floor and they were dirty dancing, like, no joke.

All of a sudden, I felt a pair of arms grabbing my arms, but I didn't panic because I could tell they were a woman's hands: warm and motherly. She leaned in to whisper in my ears "I don't know..." Millions of thoughts raced through my head before she could finish the sentence: if you know, but dancing that close with a guy like that is very risqué/if you know, but you're bleeding through your dress/ if you know, but your bloody pad's fallen to the floor...worst case scenarios like that. Instead, she said, "I don't know how you get your lovely body to move like that, but I think I should let you know that you're a beautiful dancer." I laughed and thanked her. That totally made my night.

I don't know why, but I think David became more interested in Mlle. Johnston than me after she joined. No big, I'm not interested in him. I'm just glad I was dancing with him and not some creep who would try harder to press against me. Us four made plans to do Salsa dancing tomorrow even though I can't salsa for shit. 

Charm is a glow within a woman that casts a most becoming light on others.

Okay, so M. TP has a twin. Um…what? Like, for the last couple of nights, I kept passing him again and again and it would make no geographical sense whatsoever unless he had a twin. And then I got confirmation that he indeed has a twin who looks exactly like him, walks exactly like him, talks exactly like him, and looks at me the exact same way.

But I know which one is the real one because the real one has longer hair. And his twin is quieter. Like, way quieter.

So…I was taking a nap yesterday in my room at the temple. Okay, like, it was the awkwardest place to take a nap. I curled like a cat and napped at the edge of the mattress. And all of the sudden, I heard the door open. Well, the door is jammed. You have to force it open with your shoulder; it makes a really loud noise. M. TP was at the door and I was barely awake. I kind of sat up and he apologized for interrupting and thanked me for letting him borrow my charger. I had no idea what was going on; I later found out that my mother lent it to him. But I was all groggy when I reached for the charger, mumbled something, curled back into my original position, and went back to sleep while he was still there.

Yup. I am so charming and graceful sometimes I even amaze myself.

And there’s these other guys. Oh, my God, why can’t the one I like like me back? Like, once I like someone, I’m not interested in anyone else. Especially someone who looks like a thug or someone who looks like douche.

Okay…so…there’s this guy at the temple. He looks like he’s in his early thirty, but he’s really skinny and short and creepy. He wears this pair of black sunglasses that makes him look so douche-y. He always tries to talk to me, and I answer because I’m not rude, but he took my phone as a joke. Nononono. Sometimes I do that to people, but I get so pissed off when people do that to me. Yeah. You had no chance before; now you have negative chance—even though that makes no sense.

And then there’s this other guy from San Jose. He’s a bit taller than me, but he speaks English fluently. We have okay conversations but when he kept following me whenever I go, things got a bit uncomfortable. He looked like such a thug. I don’t know; I just didn’t get good vibes from him.

I took pictures of M. Purwadi today and hung out with Mlle. Jang. It was fun. It felt a bit different with them now. More liberated. Like, we were adults, not little kids anymore. It’s a great feeling. M. Purwadi has a lovely camera. I want it.

People who build their houses in your heart.

Mlle. Smith and I just kind of shared how we felt about this little predicament we constantly finds ourselves in this year. It's the closest to a heart-to-heart I've ever been with anybody, and it was barely anything.

Anyways, I've long gotten over Mlle. Velasco and Mlle. Yasakova, and I am glad that Mlle. Smith is too. It was actually Mlle. Velasco anyways; I've never really clicked quite right with Mlle. Yasakova and am actually glad to see her go. It was Mlle. Velasco who I always have a jolly time with, but if she wants out, then who am I to stop her? I mean, I've tried getting the four of us back together at my sleepover, but that apparently didn't work. If it is just me and Mlle. Smith who are putting effort into this unrequited relationship, why should we bother at all?

Mlle. Smith and I can have fun by ourselves. We'll go to Catalina after graduation to spend a weekend there. Mlle. Velasco and Yasakova can suck it for all I care.

During Mme. Berman's lecture, Mlle. Johnston went on a poking rampant. I must have jumped out of my seat when I felt the first poke. Anyways, she poked me to let me know that during my walk back to M. Dowden's class, she was watching me and thought I was really pretty with the wind in my hair. She said I had a very satisfied and accomplished look on my face. My God, that was probably that funniest thing someone'd ever said to me because when I was walking back to M. Dowden's room, I happened to forget which one was his, so I just picked a random room (which turned out to be right) and was thinking, "Eff this. If it's wrong, it's wrong. I'll go to the next room if it's wrong."

Mlle. Johnston also found a person to fall in love with. He's a homeschool-er. Our grade. Very cute, tall, and tan. With very, very nice abs. I hope they'll get together and she'll take him to prom. She's pretty and does not deserve to settle for ugly boys like her ex-boyfriend.

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.