Have you ever been caught staring at a guy?  I was, today.  It was very embarrassing.  I don’t even know him.  He started school yesterday and I am already checking him out.  What kind of girl am I?


So, my friends have some terrible stories about this.  In sixth grade my friend was desperately in love with this guy.  She would star over the top of her book at him, or look from under her shield of hair.  One day, she was looking over at him in science, when I teacher, in a booming voice asked “__ why are you staring at __?”  Talk about embarrassing!


Today, my friend and I were joking about him.  And then, when I was getting a drink a looked up at him.  He was looking straight at me.  I don’t know who it was worse for, but I know that I did not look at the back of the classroom again.  And then something in me started to ask , why was he looking at me, and by the end of the class I was so excited.  A guy had been there for under two days, who happened to be the cutest guy in the school was already staring at me!  Maybe I should stare at guys more often.



I am not her.  I cared about you.  And true, I did use you.  But you weren’t some forgettable little friend who I don’t care about.  I cared about you.  I lied to myself too.  I told myself that you were my best friend, the person I had been searching for my whole life.  So, when I texted you that you were my best friend ever, I thought it too.  And remember all those days when you told me you were so bad at everything, I listened to you those days, even though I wanted to tell you that I’m not athletic because I was born that way, I exercise two hours every day, to look the way I do.  So does the rest of my family, we fight to look the way we do.  And you are probably more beautiful than I am.  You could probably do better than me in cross country or soccer, but I work so freaking hard.   I get two less hours of sleep every night.  Sure, I love it and it covers up that I am sad.  It easy to cover everything up.  You could too.  I’m sure you are busting your butt on your novel, and because of that you are better than I am, but you could work as hard as I do on everything else and could be better.  I surround myself by all these talented people, and I belong there because I work hard.  I spend thirty minutes at night doing exercises and go running in the morning.
 I thought that I listened to you.  I was there for every other freaking person on the whole planet, and I thought you were there for me.  For example, yesterday three people cried on me.  People that have laughed at me when I started crying.  You were my person, because I can’t run around being everybody’s tissue, while I don’t have anyone.  Now I sound like I think I am all amazing, which I’m not.  I used you, and I’m sorry for that, and I think about that at night.  I think that I should be there for you, and I do notice when you are sad, but I don’t do anything.  With everybody else, they can cry on my shoulder, but I don’t have to walk them through it again the next day, they get over it.  You don’t.  And I realize that that isn’t your fault, but that is exhausting.  When I told you time after time that you were amazingly talented, that was exhausting.  Maybe that isn’t your strength, and that is okay.  Now I’m a hypocrite, because I know that I’m not that amazing at it either, but I still think I’m going to the Olympics.
And just because I left you all alone this year doesn’t mean you should throw me in the dirt.  If you feel like this relationship is over, then just leave it, but I don’t think it is.  I think that you are no longer my best friend, but I still care about you.  I want to be able to ride the chairlift and laugh together, and I trust you.  I want to still have sleepovers where we get hyped up on sugar and dance and talk about guys.  And I am over myself now.  I have learned how to balance my life, and I still want to be friends, so if you can.  I want you to forgive me.  And I think I can help you, just the way you saved me.  So thank you for all the memories, and thank you for all the things I haven’t thanked you for.  I hope we can see past our past and start a new friendship.

I’m Not The Shy Girl

So, I’m not the kind of girl who cares about guys all the much.  Sure, I have had some pretty intense crushes, and a boyfriend (who turned out to be a jerk, but lets not talk about that).  I have never cried about a guy except for the guy we aren’t talking about.  They are kind of like give or take in my mind.


I’m not the kind of girl who gets really red and shy around the guy she likes.  I march right up to them and have a conversation.  I don’t stare at people across the room, or write my name plus there name in a heart.  I don’t have dreams about them, or watch tons of sappy chick flicks, putting my face onto the girl of the story.  I watch comedies, and don’t think about guys when I’m not with friends.


Sure, I love twenty seven dresses because the guy in it hot and I talk about guys a lot when I’m with my friends.  We talk about who’s hot, and who would be cute together and who we like, but I don’t spend my own time pondering how I could impress some guy that actually doesn’t matter that much.


That was, until today.  I got nervous!  I blushed!  Number one rule about me, I don’t get nervous and I don’t blush.  What the hell!  I was walking to school today, and we met the guy I like at the cross walk.  He was riding a bike and wearing a blue sweatshirt and I forgot what Maria was talking about.  I was super self conscious about sounding stupid or uninteresting.  And then, later in the day I was having a conversation with him, and I felt a little nervous.  What is happening to me!


She saved me today.  I had gone through enough, I was trying  to be the perfect little girl, living up to every expectation you could possibly force on me, when I made a mistake.  A big one.  I could have easily told you, and we would have turned around, but I couldn’t tell you, not today.  I had already forgotten too many things.  Sometimes I am so scared to tell you something, I go without it, suffering because I couldn’t bring myself to admit my mistake.  I get other people to cover for me.


I wouldn’t have to do this if you weren’t so harsh.  Expecting me to always be perfect.  I try so hard, but every time you see me slack off, you get mad.  I forget things, I have too many things in my head, and there are always other things i need to remember.  And you are always shocked when I forget, pushing me down again, you don’t need to punish me more than I have already punished myself.


I try and make you happy.  I clean up the house, give you little gifts, bring coffee to you in bed.  I am interested in what you want me to be interested in.  I talk to, knowing that I am risking messing up, but you don’t realize that.  You don’t understand that I have to try so hard to overcome the fear of talking to you when you are in one of your moods.


So today, when I realized I had left something again, she saved me.  She didn’t end up picking it up, but she said she would.  She was there for me.  I started to have one of my break downs.  I try and wait till I get home, but when an anxiety attack comes on, I have a hard time fighting it, but when she told me it would be okay, I calmed down, I stopped crying.  So I am very thankful for her.

Dicks, Creepers and Harassers

I hate to break it to you, but there isn’t a perfect guy out there.  The fairy tales are full of a bunch of bull.  Prince Charming isn’t going to ride along on his white horse and take you out to the finest Italian cuisine in town.


I’m sorry, but the way Disney portrays love does not work in the modern day scene.  Guys are a bunch of liars.  They are dicks.  No one is perfect, they all have faults that make you want to blow them up with all the dynamite in the world.  At least I do.


The only guy who seemed perfect is a stupid idiot who has gotten drunk and who can’t spell.  He doesn’t know grammar and writes sexual comments to my friends.   I thought he was perfect, really he was fake, he was a big fat liar that runs after girls for the fun of it.   And then when he Facebook messages me that he still likes me after I call him a dick and sexual harasser, something in me softens a little. How could I fall for a guy like that?  Is that the best the world can produce?


Guys all have faults, movies try and put a good spin on this by finding the one, but that person is just going to turn around and betray you.  They are going to cheat on you, or they are going to make huge mistakes you can’t forgive.  I’m sorry that there are no perfect people, no guys that are going to sweep you away to go eat ravioli with.  The world is full of dicks, creepers, sexual harassers, and cheaters, not white horses and handsome men with no flaws

One More Bite

One more bite won’t keep the pain away,

One more bite isn’t going to make you happy,

One more bite isn’t going to make you forget.


You think you can leave your sorrows behind,

A pile of wrappers, cascading over your garbage can.

The mixture of peanut butter and chocolate isn’t as great as it seems,

You rip the wrapper, realizing too late that it won’t help,

You tell yourself it is too late, you have to eat it now.


One more bite won’t satisfy your hunger,

One more bite isn’t going to change where you stand

One more bite isn’t going to make your stomach stop cramping.


You think that you can eat your way out of life,

Keeping your secret hidden away,

Only eating by yourself,

You sit with the covers pulled up to your chin,

crumbs trickling off the worn pink blanket onto the floor.


One more bite won’t make you any thinner,

One more bite isn’t going to change that you are alone,

One more bite isn’t going to take back all of your mistakes.



The way you were acting was not acceptable, so I had to talk to you.  I sat you down and told you that if you ever quoted that song again it was going to be bad.  I told you why it wasn’t appropriate.  I told you that o were a dirty hypocrite and that even if you were making fun of someone else for making fun of someone else, it still wasn’t okay to say things like that.  You haven’t sung that song since.


I find that you are causing more and more issues.  I am having to talk to you more now, reminding you what isn’t okay and what is okay.  Didn’t you already learn that it isn’t alright to make a hurtful joke about somebody?  Didn’t you already learn that you can’t say something racist?  Didn’t you already learn that you shouldn’t text at the dinner table, or pick up the hone while we are having a conversation.  Didn’t you ever learn your manners?  Why did you ask for bread with the chowder, when it was obvious that mom hadn’t put it out.


These things aren’t acceptable.  You can’t keep running around embarrassing yourself. You embarrass me too.   The funny things is that you should be teaching these things to me, rather than the other way around.  I shouldn’t be teaching you your manners at age 48.

Stereotype Of A Middle School Girl

I laugh at my friends who say they like one person one second, and the next second they suddenly like someone else.  I laugh at them, feeling bad for their hormones.  I say that I am way over that, I’m done with that whole middle school drama.  Then why do I always find myself staring over at him?

How many times do I have to remind myself I don’t like him?  I like someone else.  And then the next period, I’m still staring at the back of his head. They are always the same two guys, but I can’t like two guys at once!  That is the stereotype of a middle school girl!  I can’t be a stereotype, much less one of a middle school girl.

Okay, so lets say that I let myself like the first him for a little bit.  What is even good about him?  People point out that he is tall.  What kind of reason is that?  That is the most shallow thing I have heard all day, and trust me, I’ve heard some pretty shallow things today.  So, he is of cute, and smart, and sort of funny.  He always comes and talks to me, and he is always next to me, when I’m walking in the halls.  These are ridiculous reasons.

The second one has great reasons, I know exactly why I like him.  He is a great conversationalist. He is hilarious.  He is really smart and has similar interests.  He is a very talented athlete.  I have liked him for a while, and he has liked me.  These are great reasons, so why do I like some other guy as well?

Maybe I need someone here to like.  Or, maybe I am a stereotype of a middle school girl.  This is not what I wanted.  Gag, Gag.  Sorry, I think I need to go throw up, be right back.


I’ve been waiting so long for you.  I know I can’t screw it up now.  It would ruin ten years of hard work.  I feel like I can’t wait any longer.  This feeling has been growing for about a year now.  I know you are starting to feel it to, not as strongly, but it is still there.  It is always there.


I can feel it hanging in the air between us.  So many memories.  So many moments that will always be trapped in the back of our minds.  Along with all those memories is all the feelings.  They hang in between us.  They create a barrier that we can’t cross today.


I am waiting to cross that barrier.  Once, we got close to taking that step forward, we both picked our feet up, aiming where they were going to land, but then we brought them back down again.  You weren’t ready, and neither was I.  I’m ready now, but I’m waiting for you to be ready.  I want to cross together.  I want you to be there with me, in between the layers of the wall.  I want our feelings to insulate us, not keep us apart.  I know that you aren’t ready.  I don’t know when you will be.  It might be in a month, it might be in ten years.


I will know when you are ready, and we will step towards each other, at the same time.  If I step forward now, I will be alone for a little bit, waiting for you, and your wall will grow stronger, and you won’t be able to get all the way through, and you will get stuck.  Our relationship torn apart.  So I’ll wait for you.  I will wait for you as long as you need, because I know someday, we will take a step forward together.


You are always complaining about some guy.  How the keep creeping on you, or how they are always asking you out.  You take everything for granted.  I don’t understand it, isn’t it flattering when someone likes you.  I know it is hard to turn someone down, but I prefer that, than never having known someone likes you.  Just because you always look perfect, with your self confidence, doesn’t mean that that is the way everyone is being treated.  Some people have never been asked out.  You complain to them, and I can see the look in their eyes.  I can see the longing for the attention that you hate.  Do you ever think about them?


I don’t mind when people like me.  I have never had a creeper like me though, so I don’t know how that feels.  I like feeling the burning on the back of my neck, knowing that someone is looking at me.  I like glancing across the room, sometimes catching him looking back at me.  I don’t mind the way he always seem to have some excuse to need to go to my zero period teacher.  I don’t mind when he throw little pieces of paper at me.  I don’t mind the way he incessantly texts me, or ask me to hang out.


I know that they are putting themselves on the line.  I was never that brave for someone.  When I would stare at someone, I would stare at their shoes, or stare at them through my peripheral vision.   I never stood next to someone I liked during one of those hand-holding games at Orkila, like he did.  I never walked someone home after school, every Monday, Wednesday and Friday for three weeks, like he did.  I appreciate all of those things, and you should too.


I know that you don’t mind it either.  You like the way he texted you ten times, after you stopped texting without telling him.  I know that you like to catch people looking at you too.  I know that you don’t mind when someone always finds an excuse to sit next to you.  I know that you are just trying to act cool, living up to the standards you create for yourself.  Did you know that you actually aren’t any cooler than the rest of us, just because you “hate” it when a guy likes you.  I want you to know that you should consider those girls who have never felt the way you do.  You need to be aware.