Uptown Girls

Last night I borrowed from my cousin and watched a VHS of The Nightmare Before Christmas like any good teenager-that-is-regularly-referred-to-as-emo. Even though I'm pretty much the Anti-emo, I've been mistaken for every highschool stereotype. Today I was preppy. Middle school called me Goth. I like switching it up, and keeping people guessing.
Sally, however, is every emo girl, being kept hidden in her room by her parent(s), deviously escaping, and longing for a boy who is not "meant to be." Heck, Sally's every teenage girl.
I'm Sally, in a sense, because while I was watching the movie, Sam was online, and I was bewildered. Should I talk to him? Confront him? Or wait to see what he has to say? Will he talk to me? Is he avoiding me? Is he avoiding me because he feels guilty for lying? My newest worry:
Is he lying to get me off his back?
I apologise and forewarn you all: The boy drama alert has been high since April.

I also updated my ipod and boogied while emptying the dishwasher. Always fun at two in the morning.

I got to sleep in my own room last night, since my brother didn't have any of his pervvy friends over. The other night I had to stay on the floor in my parent's room because he and his friend were reveling in the goodness of his PS3 in his room, since he moved the TV in there, and my mom doesn't trust boys. I don't either. That's why I have high standards: Cute, but smart (and those are the ones that are hardest to crack for me), funny, and different. I don't want a robot. More on this later.
However, sleeping in my own room brought me back into the cycle of sleeping I have somehow dubbed "Zen sleep." I sleep in waves: Wake up in the morning, trun off my phone alarm, drift in and out of a very peaceful sleep for about an hour or more until I get motivated. Today I had the most bizarre dream about a beach and a beachhouse and my friend, the one who was ignoring me, snubbing me in the dream and me pursuing her and asking her why she is such a relentless bitch. My grandmother finally woke me up.

Grams and I went to the Barnes and Noble on the avenue. I love it there. Bookshopping is like an orgy to me. Seriously.
They still don't have this one book I'm looking for, but I got The Luxe at last and Evernight, which I will hopefully read after I finish Generation Dead, which I am hoping will be tonight. Evernight is about vampires, apparently. How bizarre.
Some lady cut in line at B&N. The cashier was apologising, because she didn't know the woman cut in line, but I let it slide. She was a jerk.
What was odder, though, was for the second time this week I saw a boy (NO!) and looking at him, I could remember Sam, the way he was. The way he was when I still had hope for us. The way he was when he opened his arms for one of the best hugs I ever recieved. The way that boy stood today made it possible for me to see Sam again, and, I feel ashamed for admitting it, I remember how much I liked him. I may still like him.

I got a nice pita sandwhich and pasta salad for lunch at the mall (but no Starbucks or disney music today. Sad.), then ate while talked about driving and weddings and gay men with my two grandmothers, until my mom came to take me out of their hair and away from the Dove ice cream bars (NOMNOMNOM). It was good to be free again today. I so can't wait for writer's camp next week.

After stopping at the cell phone store to pay our bill in one of the nifty machines, mummy and I went home rocking out to Billy Joel and discussing how if I one day get famous and rich enough, I am going on a shopping spree in New York with my mum and a platinum credit card, not looking at tags and listening to Uptown Girl as we do so. My mom says I am talented enough to do that. She likes how confident my school has made me, and how much self-esteem I have. Soon, after a bit more of a confidence boost from my All-Girls' school, I'm thinking I am going to start asking boys out. I know I can do it. Soon.

Boring afternoon. Dad sulked. I missed part two of my nightly block of Scrubs to go erranding with mi madre. We went to Target, which was an adventure finding chips for our Fourth of July party appetizer we need to bring tomorrow (er- today now), because we (SHE) kept changing our (HER) mind. I made so many laps to that damn aisle. I also found out target has pocky. Oh, the joy my inner Japanophile felt!

I also got to see a friend for the first time in weeks. Ricky didn't seem very happy to see me though. I think he forgot that a) I like by him, and b) I'm pretty and like saying hi.

I understand b) is sucky, but he was just stupified when I said hi. His mom yelled at him, me thinks. However, Ricky doesn't have stellar communications skillz anyway, so I'm not blaming him for only saying "Hello," three times.
But hey, first friend in a while! FREEDOM!

While there, I reminisced about my trip to the beach with Annie and Marie, my best out-of-state, twin friends. It was only last week, but I smiled remembering as Marie texted Sam, my Sam, and how we had a picture-fight with him over apple juice. My mom was so distraught about poor Marie.
Kids, don't have sex. It hasn't done Marie any good. Mum kept saying "What happened to our little Ree?" Ree has changed, but it's for the worst, and sadly her mother seems almost powerless to stop it. My mom then went on to tell me about how she was very shy and timid as a teenager, and she vowed she never wanted that for her daughter. I've survived an onslaught of stupid from first grade til now. I think I've accomplished her goal.

After hiding the oreos from my dad, I watched the fire works, then mummy and I watched "The Secret Life of the American Teenager," made by the guy who did 7th Heaven, which also sucked.
These kids act so oblivious and the two guys look alike. I like how the prude is preggo, too, but skanky sister is virginal. Because "Boys like nice girls."

Which is why I have had to beat them all down with a mother fugging bat!/Sarcasm.

I did, however, have to be careful with the guys I attract. After Jay and I stopped...talking, I guess, his best friend asked me out. But again with my standards: I know what Jay is like. I know, also, how to avoid his friends like the plague. Poor Ricky, I guess he really did like me. He just had poor associations.

Yes, I may come off as a stuck-up bitch, but i think I can be, because I'd be a good girlfriend. Only the best may apply, dammit. I know what I'm worth, which, again, is why I avoid Jay's friends. Jay: my best friend in eighth grade, who liked me for six months before asking me out and is thus far the only guy I agreed to go out with. After struggling with my feelings, I realized I didn't like him the way he liked me; I like how he treated me, and I liked him as a friend.

Then WWIII began, and we argued off and on for a very long time. We only became cool a few months ago.

And I guess I better get a move on to bed soon. I know most of this is very unmonumental, but the little details about life stun me. Like the sheer fact that I can discuss Sam (and his AMAZING hugs) openly with my mum, and how it's impossible to hear the music in a gas station, so you can never tell what you are listening to but you think you like it, and how at pretty much every wawa at any given moment there is a pickup truck that makes a ludicrous amount of noise for no reason so you can't even begin to identify the words in aforementioned songs-

Little things like that make me dream.

Blogs: because talking to yourself is just crazy!

Happy Independence Day, if anyone reads this.