kickin' it

Fa sho.

There's some really old rap song about "chillin' at the Holiday Inn" that I remember very little of, but stands out in my head because it's exactly what I'm doing right now, so I gangsta'd that.

We check out in about 40 minutes, so I probably need to get going soon, but I figured I'd get a quick update in. First time flying alone was almost a disaster. After landing at Detroit, I discovered that I had less than twenty minutes to get from the end of Concourse A to the opposite end of Concourse C. I went on the tram a billion times, trying to figure out where the hell I was going, but ended up just going back and forth in Concourse A for ten minutes trying to figure out how to get there. It was in a freaking separate building. So by the time I figured that out, I had about nine minutes to book it to Concourse C. I ran through this long weirdy-colored tunnel, up escalators, dodging people like a ninja...and just barely made it in time.

I must admit though, I feel pretty damn cool travelling alone. All growed up and such. I think I could probably take on the Taiwan trip on my own. I'm a veteran flier, anyway. I've just never gone solo till now. It's a piece of cake. Just keep up with your shit and keep up with the time.

I'm ready to get this week going. We've got loads of plans. Gugu does, anyway. Speaking of, she hasn't changed one bit. Still crazy as hell and has enough personality for six people. Gotta love that woman.

ilavuloo

Doggy is snoring like a bear behind me. She's been such a tagalong lately because I've been lavishing so much attention on her. It's kinda nice.

I've been reading through the huge archive of emails between Hunter and I, which is really enjoyable and all, but it always tends to make me get those shitty thoughts that I always get when something special happens between us. I think to myself "Is this going to be one of those things I look back on and cry about when he breaks up with me again?" "Is that going to be the last time I see him pop online, or get an email, or a comment, etc.?"

I promised not to worry. And really, I'm not. It's a waste of time. Whatever's gonna happen's gonna happen, whether I worry about it or not. But it's still hard to put the doubt and negativity completely out of my head after getting burned three times. I just try not to express it, since it's such poison to the relationship.

But hopefully he knows that it's still there and that I still need to hear a lot from his heart.

nu yawk

As shit as things are going to be on the home front, I can't help but look forward to spending time at the lake. I think I'll probably get inspired to write some prose doing something Walden-esque like letting my feet dangle in the water or sitting in sun-dappled shade or chilling on the veranda of the lakehouse or something. I haven't been as inspired since Hunter barged back into my life because I've been so stupidly happy; it figures that as soon as the whole heartbreak syndrome goes away, the stream of words slows down. But I've been reading a lot, and it's making English seem more malleable to me lately. So I don't think the creative flow will stop so long as I continue to read.

Packing today, I noticed that 90% of my favorite clothes are either gray or some muted shade of blue. The other 10% are solid brights. In fact, almost every shirt I own is just one solid color anyway. I'm not much for patterns past simple stripes and the unavoidable plastering of HCO or Hollister on certain shirts. I always feel like dressing up in something fancy and flowery is too much of a hassle. Like I have to groom and tweak my clothing all day to keep up appearances. Bump that gig, I'd rather just look cool and comfy. Ha, if I weren't so obviously charged with estrogen I think I could probably be mistaken for a lesbian...

Though I do like my mutes, I'm very fond of hot, electric blue. The color that my birthday dress is. And magenta's rather nice, too, even though I'm not much of a pink person. I didn't realize I liked it so much until I got that magic bra. Since then I've been looking for heels or pumps of that color to go with my gray skinnies. I've also been wanting to get one of those dresses with the big buttons and some kind of tuxedo vest in a neutral color to wear with all my gray. Stuff that's all kinda Samantha-style. She's always got something funky going. I'd dress like her, but since I'm so lazy about complicated outfits I usually just incorporate one trendy element in with my casual clothes.

How did this entry turn into a discussion about fashion??

Anyway, I think NY will be a nice vacation for me. Maybe put me on the different plane that I feel a nuance of now and then. And some alone time elsewhere will give me the time to sort things out as far as my relationship and my family go. When I'm home I always tend to feel like I'm too busy, even when I'm doing nothing. I'm still trying to process all these changes, and determine if there even are changes to process or if I'm just kidding myself again. But even in all the hubbub of my head, the notion that Hunter has truly made some progress rings loud and clear. So I'm trying to just be purely happy about that, instead of filtering it through doubt over and over. And I understand my parents and my family more as people nowadays, too. It seems like some fog is clearing.

And it feels hellz good.

On another note, Hunter is damn near narcoleptic. I dunno what on earth he's going to do when he has to start working and can't sleep for fourteen hours anymore. Noob.

rantastic

My mom has the worst fucking temper known to man.

I understand that she's upset because I haven't been cooperating and she's about to basically lose her last opportunity to be a daughter. I have acknowledged that I am a massive bitch and I've been selfish and disrespectful. I should've realized that the only reason my father was being negative was because I've been passively negative, instead of just causing it to get worse. And I've already decided to make a turn around, which is a pretty big step from the way I always tried to justify shit. And it's also pretty fucking difficult considering how pissed I am that the punishment is basically going to be centered around a ban from Hunter. That could not have been pointed to a more vulnerable spot. Even biology is going to fuck with me, what with the oxycotin withdrawals and shit.

When mom gets mad she tends to get halfway fucking irrational. And she thinks she's always completely right. Which of course, she usually is, but then she uses that to justify some extreme punishment. i.e., fucking up my senior year. My dad is trying to keep me around, but he has to impose some hardcore punishment in order to do so. Fuck, I'm not even going to enjoy New York now, knowing I'm going to come home to a foot-long list of bans. And hell, when she comes home, she'll probably still hate me. She can really hold a grudge.

I just hope the bans get lifted before Hunter is licensed to drive. We've been looking forward to that so much. I'm going to be on my best behavior, but I don't know if it will be enough.

Mom is always the go-to person when my cousins need help or advice. But when they fuck up they never get this explosion. I suppose I could attribute it to her frustration, since it's her own daughter, but it's still pretty fucked up. I would appreciate a bit of leeway, especially since I'm clear on when I make mistakes.

Whatever. I have to go to bed, Papa sleeps at 10:30.

loopholes

Lately I feel less and less like I belong. I guess the absence of the 08ers is really starting to get to me. My closest friends are officially all alumni, Jared and Breah included, and my Hunterloo goes to a different school. I suppose the time I spend in school during senior year will be devoted to studying and trying to dodge the legion of people who hate/dislike me.

In no particular order: Christina, Ashley, Cecily, Aubrey, Shawna, Cassandra, Jenni, Dustye, and whoever else they can recruit. Half of them just don't like me because they became friends with someone who didn't like me, and most of them are friends with each other. Tied together by their mutual hatred of Hanna. Touching.

I don't know. Everyone I've talked to thinks it's just because they consider me some kind of fierce competition. I know I've got a couple of talents, but I'm not terribly cocky about them. I always keep that in check. I suppose that might be misread from how I overcompensate for my mixedness by acting confident. In a passage from The Bell Jar, Sylvia Plath described how her headmaster ate his salad very strangely: leaf by leaf with his fingers. But he did it so surely that he made it seem as though everyone's been eating salad that way for years. That can kinda be applied to what I do; I try to convey self-confidence in an effort to make being mixed seem like a normal thing. Especially when I get "the stare."

"The stare" says, "I can't quite tell what you are, but I know you're different, and I'm going to scrutinize everything about your physical appearance, speech, and body language until I figure it out. And if I can't, I'll come up and ask you. Somewhat rudely." And eventually they come up and ask, somewhat rudely, "What are you?" I always give them a questioning look, even though I know exactly what the hell they're asking. I just don't want them to know that I think it's odd, too, or that will just confirm their opinion on it and maybe make me seem vulnerable.

Usually I get, "Oh. You're pretty," or "Oh. That's cool," or the worst, "Oh. That's...different."

Different. Yeah, like I don't fucking know.

I can't help but think that maybe I'd be met with less enmity if I were fully white or fully Taiwanese. I'm different enough. A normal ethnicity might've at least let me feel like I fit in a little, but no. I don't even get to fit in on the most superficial level. I get stuck with this half white, half Taiwanese gig. And there's another thing! Taiwanese. I never even tell them specifically I'm half Taiwanese. I just say Asian, because they always get it wrong and think I'm from Thailand. See, that just makes shit more complicated. I can't even have a generally understood mix. Almost everyone alive knows what China is, and anyone with an imagination can put two and two together and figure out how the features affected my face and hair. But no, I get this little island that no one's ever heard of, so then they make me explain more and spend more time feeling awkward, and watch me rapidly lose my grip on the confidence facade until they can clearly see the insecurity written all over my face and they know that I'm different and they know that I'm different and I can just feel myself getting categorized in those first five seconds by a complete, stupid stranger who doesn't know the first thing about who I am, about the depth to my soul and the complexities of my mind and the purity in my heart, and

...fuck my life.

Except the Hunter part!

He's all upset now because he thought that applied to him. He reads into things way too much. I think sometimes he'll start an issue up even though he knows that I didn't mean it that way, just to hear me confirm (a thousand times) that I didn't mean it that way. But he doesn't do it for too terribly long, so I let him get away with it.

I didn't really mean for this post turn into such a rant about my mixedness. I've just been feeling really negative about it lately, and I've been partially blaming it for my unpopularity. I guess I just kinda ran off the tracks with it. I meant to spend part of this entry talking about how senior year outside of school would be awesome, because I can drive around with Hunterloo all the time and have fun and Sonic tea and amazing sex. So now I'm going to get on with the good part.

Things with Hunter are fantastic. He's really bloomed open now, right in time with the bright orange lilies in the backyard that come back annually. A lot of our conversations are happy sweet talk, not to mention sexually charged...but who's complaining? Not me. We've actually already had a few arguments, but I've chalked it up to the "things we did while broken up" shock. It really isn't important, and I don't think either of us really even care anymore. We really just argue to stop worrying. All that matters anymore is the renewal of our connection.

And it's nothing short of spectacular, not to mention impenetrable(so, unfortunately, is my vagina). We should stop being insecure about it.

Big hint to my stalker.

friday the 13th

There's almost no way to describe my night without sounding like some trashy romance novel. All I can say is that it was new, electric, nervous, thrilling, and the most fun I've had in a long time. Oh, and CARS.

Also, I've realized that this is going to be like trying to fit a lamp into a coin slot. But breaking me comes as a nice excuse to spend more time together, and dragging out the time till we actually do it will build anticipation and probably make it even more enjoyable.

The most fun is still just being together. Bonus points for not having clothes on, of course.

Now I really need to be getting on to bed...I think we're spending even more time together tomorrow. Er...later today.

baskets & oceans

I almost forgot how well we connected. These last few days of near-constant conversation have reminded me that there's really a hell of a lot of chemistry between us. A rare and precious click, a compatibility on several levels. And every time we get back together, he opens up more and more. I hardly have to press him to speak his mind anymore. He's said a lot of very meaningful things and taken his role as reassurer and relationship-repairman without a single qualm.

So I'm sitting in his figurative ocean of a love that I seriously hope is something everlasting, with a single floatie on my arm symbolizing my doubt. I want to dive in and never look back, but that would just be stupid after suffering through a breakup for the third time. I have to make sure that this is permanent before making a move like that, not just for my sake, but for my family, who've been worried sick about how my love life was so in the shitter and how sad I've been. But I am certain that at this rate, I will get there. We will get there. We will dive together.

All the poetic language and analogies aside, I'm a pretty happy camper. I have hardly a single complaint on how things are going between us right now. And we've made plans to hang out tomorrow and take lots of photos together and stargaze(which is what we did briefly the second night we saw each other, first night we talked again), so I'm really excited about that. The only thing that's making me nervous anymore is the Ashley factor.

It's really obvious that she's into Hunter now, or at least attached to him. She's been bitching at him about how he "changed things" between them by getting back with me. So I'm not particularly comfortable with this friendship of theirs. I haven't been for over a year now, since that damn kiss. Attention whore. But whatever, if Hunter's really serious about our relationship then it'll never be important enough to divide us. So I suppose this could be used as a vantage point: if Ashley can screw things up, anything else can in the long run. Kind of a "worth it or not" determinant, I guess.

I really need to see Hunter and talk to him in person. So much more could be said via expression and action. And I'm eager to see how he actually looks when he says something. It's one thing to write something heartfelt, entirely another to look me in the eye and say them.

Just one more daaaaay!

zohmahgah

HUGE developments.

My excitement is absolutely raping me of my usual ability to write and connect thoughts in a flowing manner. And Hunter is coming to town right this minute, so I've got to get all these extra jitters out or I'm going to end up attacking him on sight.

Time to dance dance dance dance dance

Real updates later

splendor up your ass

"I'm never one to believe that happy endings happen to me. I've always thought my life would end tragically, with my heart left unfulfilled, like Sylvia Plath. I hate movies that wrap things up like that so neatly. I hate it when the last scene's a sweet one, a reunion of some kind or a surprise appearance by the one the main character's been waiting for.

"But when you think about it, even when the one I've been waiting for pops up again, and everything seems so well and good, things are still totally ambiguous. Weeks, months, years from now, he could land me with his catchphrase again and bolt. And I'll do this dance all over again.

"So when you see this scene, the one where he comes up to me with candy and a hug, remember that it's not over. We haven't reached a happy ending yet, if we will at all. I've got a lot more to deal with until this guy grows up, and then, I might have to learn the steps to a whole new dance. And if he never grows up, maybe I'll have to get off the floor for good.

"But for now, just enjoy the feelgood ending. Pretend that we aren't real people dealing with this real situation. That we're just scripted and set to act in this way. That it's just a movie, and no one has gone through this before, or is going through it now.

"Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better, and I'm not saying that bitterly. Life's just too short to worry about complicated shit like this. It really is."

soar with the crescendo

I still feel the steady vibration from the amp I stood under last night. Shaking my heart out of sync.

I'm so frustrated, but somehow when I slept that dissolved into something sadder.

I don't know when to take you seriously anymore. You seem like two different people. I want to go with the one that I see in person, because that one scares and disgusts me less. But which one is really you? The one whose face I used to hold in my hands, or the one whose photos depict a stranger? The one who made me laugh with his broad, goofy smile, or the one who broke our ties and formed other ones with his written word?

When we got back into town last night, it looked like such a strange place to me. I had actually been feeling like that all day, like when I go to a different state and see strange license plates and wonder what their lives are like. I felt more comfortable the closer I was to Arkansas. The closer I was to you.





I want to go home

the periphery game

Today was an even more horrible continuation of yesterday‘s painfest. I get an anxiety shock out of the blue, and I know that something’s wrong. Come to find that Hunter has set his Myspace viewable to the public, and there’s all kinds of stupid shit on it that I guess I expected anyway. He’s awfully brave online, whoring himself out the way he is. Girls here, girls there, “Ashley completes me” and some strange picture. I think he’s probably also been talking racist shit about me behind my back, which might’ve been what irked me the most, but it was all pretty bad. Even worse than the faux-hawk stage that scared the hell out of me the last time.

But the shit didn’t stop there. This day kept it coming in an increasing stream.

I see all of this minutes before my ride to Jonesboro arrives; Silence the Oppressor is playing a show that I‘d been planning to go see. I didn’t have a chance to set my thoughts straight, and left in one of the most downcast moods I’ve ever been in. I felt like lying face down on the grass outside until I eventually just merged into the earth. For a moment I even seriously considered not going, and running to talk to Jared instead, but I figured the best thing to do was try to go have some fun. So when Jordan and Brian and Austin came around, I dragged my miserable ass out the door.

Riding up there was okay. We listened to a great comedian and it lifted my mood a tiny bit. But I get to the venue, and guess who else pulls up not five minutes later. Go on, guess. I’ll give you a hint: his name starts with an “H” and ends with an “unter.”

The funny thing is, I kinda knew it all along. Something in my head was saying “I bet I’ll see Hunter tonight.” And by God, whoever the hell said that was right. It entered my mind the moment I woke up this morning, and I haven’t been able to eat without wanting to retch all day. I can’t believe it can affect me in such an uncontrollable way. But anyway, back the course of events.

The first thing I heard him say was “I love you” to some band guy, I think it was Hartley or Alex or someone. I didn’t look up, all I knew is that they hugged or something and the guy had a white shirt on. It was an odd first thing to hear since…what, March? But well, we park, and I hesitate like hell to get out of the car. I just wanted to go home, but since that would be such an inconvenience to the guys I thought I might hide in the trunk all night instead. Yet another moment of serious consideration. But I slog up to the entrance and sure enough, there he fucking is. Standing with Cody. All Hunter-like. God damn it.

So I’m standing around talking to people and trying to act as nonchalant as possible, and my mind is screaming about how the hell he could act like a completely different person on his Myspace and then seem exactly the same as he always used to be in person. Just what the fuck is he trying to pull? Some dual personality shit? Maybe I'm overreacting, I haven't had enough time to think this through anyway. Or maybe I just saw him with the wrong person. Around Ashley, I’m sure he’s an absolute slut. With Cody, he seemed like regular Hunter. Arms-crossy and serious-faced and whatnot. Fuck it, I don’t know.

Anyway, I’m not sure if I should chalk it up to chance or passive signaling but he managed to stay either a few people away from me the entire time, or far away but somewhere with a good view of me. I don’t know how many times he looked at me. Probably not as many times as I thought; my face-detecting peripheral vision can be deceiving sometimes. But Cody looked at me a lot, maybe doing his spy work or something, I dunno. There was one point where they were in the warehouse and I was outside, and he turned around to look at me and then talked to Cody. I’m sure shit was said. He looked like he was talking shit. Actually, I don’t know what the hell he looked like he was saying. Whatever. But I definitely noticed that look.

I spent most of my time turning around as quickly as possible and staring at the ground. I tried not to look at him too much. I didn’t even want to look at him, honestly. I don’t know if I was too pissed off or too sad or what, but I just automatically avoided looking at him at all. I think I probably didn’t want to look at him because I was afraid of what I’d look like; I tend to be easy to read. But I did look at him a couple of times, mostly at his profile or the back of his head. He looked the same as always. I felt the same as always.

I thought about meeting his eyes at least once, on purpose, and holding his gaze for a second. But I didn’t want him to think anything positive of it. So I bailed on that idea; I didn’t know exactly how to orchestrate it anyway. But we did look at each other at one point before I left, when he had walked over to the opposite side of the room after standing to the other side of Austin for awhile. It was an accident though, a mutual glance I guess. He looked…Hunter-y.

I wonder how he thought I looked. I had that dress that I bought for my birthday on, I’d just gotten my hair cut this morning, and my makeup actually went over really well. I was sweating like hell, but then again, so was everyone else. So I don’t know. I thought I looked better than I usually do. I wonder if the extreme panic and heartache was written all over my face, or if I put on enough powder to cover it up. Or maybe I looked too Asian. Ha. What a laugh. Ha, ha, fucking ha.

Gah, I’m so weird. I kept picturing pulls and sparks and outstretched arms between us in my mind’s eye, or our shadows embracing while we stood a few feet apart. I don’t know if there’s still that connection between us, or if it was all just fueled by hope. But it would make a good movie. And, you know, it would make me happy.

If I’d written this earlier, I would’ve sounded as emotionally explosive as I did the other day, when I found out that he’d been chatting up Ashley again mid-entry. But the scare from the radically different Hunter that I saw online has dwindled away after seeing him in person.

He still essentially seems the same.

Things never change.

self-destruct

I used to be able to take apart a situation and analyze it for answers
I used to be able to consider possible outcomes in a calming, logical way

But my head is screaming and it won't shut up, shut up, shut up for five seconds so I can sort things out, it's sending shock after shock after shock through my system and I'm not grounded

I need a buffer, I need an answer

I need a thousand answers

Why does he think that's the life he's supposed to lead

Why shouldn't I be in it
What's so wrong with me

he rejected me


Oh God, please
please, please, please
help him grow up and see

tell me that this is the worst of things

a second wind

sugar's got a swagger
sittin' pretty, seventeen

Not sure where that came from, but I thought of it today, and I liked the alliteration, so I wrote it down.

I think this entire situation has been physically manifesting itself for the past 36 hours, because I've been constantly feeling like I'm going to gag or pass out. But all it took was one bit of information to suddenly pull me out of that slump.

Rachel took me home today and was talking about how surprised she was that Hunter and I weren't back together yet, and she said "even his friends want you guys back together" the friend in question being Dillon. That is the best thing that anyone could've told me at this point. Even Dillon, who is roughly the same age as Hunter is, knows how stupid this all is. Of course, he'd probably never say anything to Hunter about it, because it just isn't Dillon to judge. I'm not really surprised that he came to this conclusion either, because he's a pretty solid person.

Anyway, it's just comforting as hell knowing that Hunter still has a passively positive influence in his life aside from the idiocy that's being impressed upon him by Ashley.

He's really been going out of control lately. His whoring for attention has reached a whole new level, and I think seeing that might be what made me start feeling so sick to begin with. I realized that all of the actions I assumed were hints toward me were actually just attempts to entertain himself with more people, and I've wanted to puke ever since. He's been advertising his Myspace url and email address all over our forum, and I stumble upon his comments on almost every mutual Myspace friend we had. And he's already commented Ashley's pictures more than he ever commented mine. Blagh.

I want to sit with Dillon for hours and just spill all my guts. I want him to know that I'm not just mindlessly taking this emotional beating for the third time. I am completely clear on the kind of crap that I'm dealing with, and I choose to continue to hold a place in my heart for Hunter no matter how much shit I have to eat along the way. It might not make a difference as far as us getting back together, but I need a new listening ear and a fresh opinion from someone who knows both of us. Jared knows exactly what's going on, but his whole idea of Hunter is based on what I've told him has happened. (For the record, I didn't even need to trash-talk Hunter for Jared to despise him, I only described what he did and has been doing.) So since he has no attachment to Hunter, usually anything he has to say about him is pretty crude and straightforward. But I need that kind of wake-up call, too.

Come to think of it, I have all kinds of people supporting me who cover just about everything there is to offer. My worldly-wise mom, who knows us and cares about us both. Jared, who is extremely grounded and has the strongest moral backbone I've ever seen in someone so near my age. And Alex, who can either make me forget about it for a while or view it more clearly and objectively.

God, I'm so glad that I don't feel sick anymore.

mindsick, heartsick, bodysick

All right, so that last post caught me at a very emotional and ineloquent time.

I don't know. I don't even want to bother sometimes. Relationships are just too damn complicated. People innately suck. So people interacting on an intimate level is nothing more than a disaster waiting to happen. Well, that's not true, there is something more to it. But I've been re-reading Catcher in the Rye so it's encouraged the cynic in me. I'm just not one to prattle off the long slang and curseword-ridden sentences that it's known for. Not really my style.

I feel bitter and wronged. I'd like to hide behind a titanium anti-people shield the way Alex does. It seems really safe back there, but I'm not sure if it's that I can't bring myself to stomp out my own last bit of hope in people like that or if I simply can't do it, period.

Anyway, current events. Today I started my 50 hour A+ gig. I keep getting mistaken for a damn sixth grader, which kinda pisses me off because I know I don't carry myself like some kid. I guess I can't really blame them for it, since their perception of people is still largely based on physical appearances, and I do look really young. And I'm sure I'll appreciate it when I'm 26 and can still pull off 21, but I can't deny that it really irritates me for now. I tried to present myself in the most professional way possible, which may well have even come off as a bit arrogant, but kids still tried to interact with me the way they would with any other middle-schooler. I guess I'm too approachable. Or maybe I just looked pathetic, sitting at lunch alone with my nose in a book. But I didn't give a shit. I wanted to sit alone, damn it.

Whatever, whatever, whatever.