I'lL nEvEr GrOw Up!

OK. So, every where I go, people are like, are you still in high school? It's great. I can get a Happy Meal at Mcy D's, and not feel awkward about it. I can play video games at the movie theater, and people think it's normal. When I work at Walmart over the holidays, the people with the beer don't come in my line because they're afraid I can't scan it for them (by the way, at Walmart, you can be 19 and sell beer). And then, people ask me, "So, what high school do you go to, Sweetie?" and I'm like, well I go to college now, and they're like, no way! There was one time when I was just walking down the street and these Jr. high kids came up and said, "Are you a kid?" and I was like, "No. I go to UH." And they were like, "Sorry. You look like a kid." And, one time, I was on the bus, and this old man almost sat on me, and then he was like, "I almost sat on this little girl."

I'll never grow up. I'll always like bugs and playgrounds and cookie dough (I can't bake cookies- all of the dough ends up inside of me before it gets baked). I still draw cartoons and play with stuffed animals (at work and when I babysit, mostly). I still watch Pikachu on TV and sometimes I watch Barney or Seseme Street or Arthur (that's my favorite!) I still like playing Kirby and Yoshi and Donkey Kong and Supermario Bros. But you know what, that's perfectly ok. There's nothing wrong with liking that stuff. It doesn't make me weird or stupid or a big baby- it makes me- me. Unique and wonderful in my own way. So what if I sleep with a Dora the Explorer pillow case and blanket (I do!) So what if I sleep with my Elmo pj's and my Pikachu doll (I do!) I'm me, and I don't have to change. And yes, I don't eat out often, but when I do, it's to get the happy meal toys!

My First Job

When I was 18, I had my first job. It was the summer before I went away to school. I looked everywhere for employment, but nobody would hire me. Finally, I saw a sign up at the Chinese restaurant down the street, so I inquired about it and I was hired as a "busboy" on the spot. I worked for $6 per hour for three hours a day with no tips. I felt nervous everytime people left tips on the table, like I was being watched. People liked me. I became an attraction because I was a little white girl working amongst a bunch of Chinese people. People would ask the manager what I was doing in there and he would laugh and say that I was half Chinese. I think that the Chinese people liked when I worked over there because people would tip more. They thought it was so cute to see a white girl working in a Chinese restaraunt. I was just happy to get paid.

Well, I went off to school and then I went back to work a little bit over winter break and I earned some money- I even worked on Christmas day and a nice man gave me a tip and told me to hide it so they wouldn't see (I hid it in my sock). I actually liked working there than in a lot of places because it was fast-paced and I enjoyed seeing some of the same people every week. They always asked me to eat, but I never did. I saw what they put in that stuff.

Superheroins Rule

When I was little, I wanted to be lots of things. I wanted to be a ballerina, a movie star, a people doctor, a grocery store worker, a scientist like Steve Irwin, but I also had one realistic goal- I wanted to be a superhero. I LOVED watching the Powerpuff Girls when I was a kid and I wanted to be just like them. I wanted to fly around and shoot bad guys with lazer beams coming from my eyes and I wanted to punch people in the face and then laugh and fly off. I still think it would be cool to be a superhero- to be a Teen Titan or something. Totally unrealistic, but it would be cool if you could be a superhero because everybody would like you and respect you and you could save the world... Well, enough out of me:) Better go.

Life, Love, Friendship

I've lived a very sad, depressing life. I've been to Hell and back, so to speak, and I need a break. I never had really good friends when I was in high school or middle school, or even in elementary school because my parents had been going through a wicked divorce and I was never free to be with people and I was often shielded and frightened of people, and nobody ever encouraged me to be otherwise. When I came to college, things seemed like they would be different, and for the beginning times, they were. I met wonderful people whom I loved, and they loved me, and for a little while, things were good. There was only one catch- they were older than me and they were destined to graduate first and leave me behind. Well, I met this wonderful girl from New Zealand and I loved her with all of my heart, I'm not sure why, but I thought of her like an older sister and I tried to tell her that on several occassions. At first she seemed all anxious to get to know me and she seemed to like me; I was the one who was too scared and shy to do anything. But then towards the middle of my sophomore year, I got a little braver and I wanted to spend time with her and get to know her and let her know just how great I thought she was. But I felt like I was sadly too late- she seemed to have lost interest and I felt like yesterday's news. She talked once about mentoring me in my relationship with God. At first, I was a little unsure of the idea, but then I realized that if it would bring me closer to God and her, then it was worth it, so I told her I was interested, but she let it go. As the year rolled on, I tried to make time in my busy schedule to spend with her, but she never got back to me, and I felt like she lost interest in me or that she didn't want to spend any time. Still, I loved her and I thought she was great, and I wanted to spend time with her because I thought she was great. Well, remember how I said that my friends were all older than me and they were going to graduate soon? That happened last spring- all of them graduated except for my Kiwi friend and another friend from the Netherlands, who is supposed to come back in the fall. My Kiwi friend, however, was devistated, as was I, and she grieved for quite a while, as I could see. I wanted to become closer friends- to get to know her and have a real relationship, for me to share stuff with her and for her to share stuff with me, and to feel like she wanted to see me and that she loved me as much as I loved her. She told me last summer that she would try to be there more for me, and I prayed that she meant it. Well, I didn't get a dorm, so I asked if we could room together, and she told me that there was no more room because she was going to be living with a bunch of other girls (she actually only ended up living with one), but that I could live in the baptist boarding house up the road, and I was heartbroken, but I let it go because I loved her, and when you love somebody, you forgive. I tried all year to invite her to things, but she never really responded to me, and finally, I got frustrated because she's leaving in a few short weeks to graduate, and all I wanted was to spend some extra time with her to make up for lost time because even if I do see her again, it won't be for a long time. She told me that she would probably never see me again, which crushed me because a goodbye shouldn't be a goodbye forever. Nonetheless, I told her that I was in need of a close friendship and I wanted a deeper relationship. She told me that I couldn't have that and that we were no longer friends. Why can't I have close friends who love me as much as I love them? How hard is it to say, "I love you," or "I care about you," or to call or email once in a while to see how things are going? How much time or effort does that take? What is wrong with me that I can't have a close relationship? I just don't understand. Maybe I love too much. Love can be painful. It can be just as evil as it can be good. I still love her. I just wish that the feelings were mutual. I can't understand why so many people are important in her life, but that I mean so little, when all this time, she meant the world to me and I tried my hardest to let her know it. I am so stupid. I am incredibly stupid and naive. I let myself love somebody who wasn't willing to even try to get to know me or let me try to get to know them, and now I'm under love's spell. I don't regret loving her- I still do. There's no reason why we can't be real friends, real, deep, true-blood friends who share everything, who cry together, who hug eachother, who laugh together; she just doesn't want it. A friend is someone who cares about you. A good friend is someone who cares about you and shares stuff with you and who you share stuff with as well. A great friends is someone whom you love like family, and who loves you the same way. I wish I had that. I really wish I had that...

The Day I Ran Away From Home

When I was three years old, I always liked to go with my mom to the gas station down the street because 1.) I loved going on walks, and 2.) if I was good, my mom got me candy. So, one day, I was in my mom and dad's room and I feel asleep watching Muppet Babies on TV, and then I heard the door close, and I popped up and ran to the window and saw my mom walking to the gas station alone. How dare she!

I started crying, but after about two minutes, it dawned on me that nobody was going to hear me. I don't remember where my dad was, and my mom was at the store, so it made no sense to make a puddle on the floor. I decided, then, to take matters into my own hands. If my mom wasn't going to take me to the gas station, I was going to go anyway. So, I opened up the front door and stepped out into the front yard (something that was strictly forbidden!) and I bravely headed onward down the street.

I must have felt like Queen Elizabeth or something, because while I was walking down the road, I was giving the Queen Elizabeth wave to everybody I saw. And they were giving it back to me, so I thought that the world was all friendly. I came across a yard with a bunch of big kids running around and I got really scared and jumped behind a bush that was crawling with lady bugs. A girl (I think she might have been about 8 or 9) saw me and said, "Hey- there's a little kid in the bushes!!!" Suddenly, my little heart stopped dead in my chest. I stopped breathing, hoping that those monsters would go away. I wanted to run, but fear set in and I couldn't move. The girl went inside and got her mom and brought her outside, and she scooped me up before I could make a getaway and brought me into her house and gave me some water. She tried to get me to eat something (I don't remember what it was, but I don't think I would have liked it anyway), but I was too scared to eat. A police man came to the door and the lady picked me up and handed me over to him, and he put me in his car and told me that it was bad to runaway from home. I actually liked the policeman. He was cool. He pulled up my driveway and asked, "Now, is this your house?" I said yes, so he stopped the car, picked me up (I'm not sure why those grownups wouldn't let me walk- it was like they thought I was going to run away from them), knocked on the door, and when my mom answered, he asked, "Is this yours?" My mom was crying and laughing at the same time. I didn't know what was going on, but from that day foward, I stuck to the nice, safe, fenced in backyard- atleast until I turned 5:)

My Favorite Game

Okay. I had lots of favorite games when I was a little kid, but one of my favorites was called the "Killer Tomatoe" game. We used to have this awesome red bean bag chair that looked like a tomatoe, and me and my sisters used to run around with it on our heads, screaming "Pwant, pwant" (I'm not too sure where that came from- I think we were just trying to immitate the sound of a tomatoe falling on the ground." One person was the tomatoe, and everybody had to run away from it or else you got eaten! Man, those were the days.

My Most Embarrassing Moment

When I was in preschool many, many years ago, I remember a time after we had grape juice and cookies for snack, and then, we started making rain clouds with marshmellows. Now, this was a very special day- it was the day that something hit me and I developed self-awareness. Suddenly, that grape juice was starting to work it's magic, and sure enough, I had to ask the teacher to excuse me. There were lots of other kids in the bathroom; they were all washing the sticky marshmellow stuff off of their hands, and normally, it didn't bother me to use the potty when other kids were around, but somehow things felt different. Nonetheless, I REALLY, REALLY, REALLY had to go. Unfortunately, pride got in the way and so I stood there with my legs crossed, waiting for the last kid to leave. Finally, the last kid did leave, but before I could sit down, waterfalls came running down my legs and I was surrounded by a yellow ocean. I didn't know what to do, and the teacher came in to check on me and she saw me shivering and standing in the middle of the bathroom with tears in my eyes and pee-pee all over my clothes. The teacher's aide came in, took off all my clothes (that was humiliating), and made me wear this ugly red and pink heart shirt with a pair of red shorts. It was a good thing that it was the end of the day, because my mom came and rescued me and it was all over and I could sleep it off... I'll never forget this:)