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a tenth. a first. and a goodbye.}
Sunday, December 2, 2018 | 9:19 PM | 2Comment




To my beloved Internet,

It has been long. Much too long. How I've missed you.

I have started and stopped several entries before this one. I never posted them because they didn't feel quite right. And just as well, I've been so swamped with my fiction writing this year (a revision on one of my novels that resulted in axing 50k words from it, work on another novel I started in '16, and finishing a whole novella!) that I felt like I couldn't dedicate enough time to writing a nice update for you all.

Also, at some point, there was so much happening that I didn't feel like I could adequately write about it all. But, as always, there is the ever-famous bulletpoint entry. So let me sum it up for you:


  • In March of this year, I entered my 25th year around the sun. Many confusing, exciting things have happened in my 25th year, but I've enjoyed 25. 25 is nice, and so far, much nicer than being 24.
  • In May of this year, this blog turned 10 years old. An entire decade of being your ridiculous, overly-sensitive, one-and-only Hopeless Romantic.
  • I continued working at my job, and I continued loving it, as well as being able to experience wonderful opportunities for my resume, as well as wonderful life experiences.
  • I started going to the movies by myself, and it turned into one of my favorite new hobbies. Turns out I'm a bit of a movie junkie, and I enjoy watching them the most when I'm alone, but with a group of other movie junkies who watch movies the same way I do--silently. Ahh, sweet silence.
  • I started seeing someone, who then became my very first boyfriend.


Huh. Sooo...where to begin?

Kidding. I know you guys are DYING to hear me dish on this guy who became my first ever boyfriend. Me. Hopeless Romantic, in the year of 2018, AND A FIRST BOYFRIEND. 

FINALLY.










Now, before you all celebrate, let me stop you right there: it's not Brennan. And it didn't end well.

But, well, seeing as he was my first boyfriend, and most people have their first boyfriend/girlfriend in like...middle school, sometimes high school? Yeah. Usually that does not work out so well. And in this case, it didn't.

But let me start at the beginning. Let's call him Jon.

Now, after the whole Brennan ordeal of late last year, I ended up confronting him. I told him up front that I had felt taken advantage of, and used, and that it didn't fly with me. I told him I take my own feelings very seriously, and that I need someone who takes me seriously as well. I told him that I'll be his friend, but if he can't handle being JUST straight-forward, platonic friends, then he needed to stay away from me.

He ended up responding with this whole rant about how sorry he was for treating me that way, and how he didn't even know what he wanted or what he was doing with his life, and honestly it was pretty sad. It was through this that I realized how hard this breakup of his had been on him, way more than he had initially made it seem.

Frankly, after all of that, it put me off of Brennan for good, and I left him alone. Aside from him sending me Merry Christmas and Happy New Year texts, we mostly stopped speaking--which, after the way he had treated me, I was glad for. Immediately following, I signed up for Bumble, wanting to move on ASAP.

Nothing came of Bumble for several weeks afterward. For a little bit, I was talking to this guy from there who Super Liked me, who ended up coming on WAY TOO STRONG and made me super uncomfortable 95% of the time. 

Nothing came of it for months, and I was feeling so weary of the whole dating scene that I was planning on deleting the app.

But when I sat down to delete my account in June, I decided I might take one last swipe-through, just in case. 

So I was swiping. Swiping, and swiping, and swiping. Losing my faith in humanity and swiping. Feeling my soul die and swiping.

Then finally, miracle of miracles, I find a guy's profile that interests me. Just to see, I swipe right. We immediately match.

The guy? Jon.

I send the opening message, telling him he's handsome and making a comment about something he'd written on his profile. He immediately messages back, super friendly, we talk for a bit. He asks me out to a movie for the next weekend, I say yes. Success.










Now, when we meet in person for the first time, it's a little weird. He's kind of quiet, he's obviously very nervous. I was nervous too, but after seeing him, he was much more nervous than I was. I try my best to be friendly to make him feel at ease, and we go in for the movie.

His laughter during the movie is high-pitched and it alarms me, but it's kind of hilarious. The unashamed, loud way that he laughs is disarming, and shows me that he doesn't care what others think. It warms me to him.

After the movie, I ask if he would like to get coffee at my favorite cafe by the movie theater that plays k-pop videos. He says yes.

He pays for my coffee, and we get to know each other a bit. He seems to have trouble looking directly at me, but he still seems nervous, so I give him the benefit of the doubt. (I found out later that he spent our entire first date absolutely terrified. Poor guy.) He lived in Japan for much of his adolescent years, but he says he likes it in America better. He complains about the trains in Japan, and it endears me to him. He lived a whole life growing up that I could never even imagine, and I want to know more.









So I say yes to date two, brunch at a hole-in-the-wall place downtown. He's a bit warmer this time, more comfortable. We talk about all our favorite movies, and our favorite music. I notice the tattoo on his forearm: the solar system. I love space. And now I like him even more.

Date three: Watching Harry Potter movies at his place. I was hesitant about going over to his apartment--I had never been to a man's apartment before. But I said yes, trying to take a step outside of my comfort zone.

He sensed that I was uncomfortable, and as we watched Chamber of Secrets, he only holds my hand. Fingers laced. I'm on cloud nine.






After date 5--a day trip to the mall, where he bought some things for me as a gift--when we watched a Japanese reality show on Netflix, he asked me to be his girlfriend. I cried, and I said yes. And when we left his place a couple of hours later so that he could drive me home, there was a double rainbow across the sky.

It felt like a sign. A wonderful gift just for me, from the universe.

That day made me so happy. It was wonderful, now knowing that these things could happen to me. I thought I was defective. I thought something was wrong with me. I thought I was the only one who would never experience that kind of happiness.

I now know that it's possible.






Unfortunately, after that, things steadily went downhill.

We still did fun things. We went to movies, talked on the phone, went out to eat, sat in his car for hours just talking and watching funny videos on each other's phones. Those parts were great. Those were the things I had always wanted, and never thought I deserved. 

I'll cherish those firsts for a long time. Maybe forever.

But sometimes he would ignore my boundaries--my personal boundaries as well as my relationship boundaries. At first I thought it was a mistake, and made excuses for him. I would restate them again and again, reminding him. He would say 'okay' and nod like he understood, and then he would bulldoze past them all over again. This happened so many times that it felt like I was losing my mind.

It happened so many times that when he told me that he loved me, it didn't feel like he meant it.

He said 'I love you' to me after 1 month of being official, after changing our relationship statuses on Facebook.

He said it right after I told him, repeatedly, that I wasn't ready for sex, and tried to force me to do it anyway.

I didn't say it back, Internet. Because the moment he said this to me, after the way he had treated me before in that confusing, unsettling moment, I knew I didn't love him.

Because I could never love someone who wouldn't treat me with the utmost respect. I thought he respected me--he opened doors for me, held hands with me in public, drove me home, and he told me he respected me. I thought that was enough. 

But other times he would shove his tongue down my throat like he was getting paid $200 a minute to do it. Other times, when I told him I was having a bad depression or anxiety day, he would ignore my need for space. And he would whine and guilt trip me when I said I wasn't ready to sleep with him. And when he wasn't whining and guilting me, he was groping me. 

At first it just began to annoy me. Then it began to anger and sicken me. We even began fighting about it. One of the last times I called him out on it, I got really angry. I thought we had settled this discussion the time before, and I was tired of feeling unheard. He swore up and down that he wouldn't do it again, and that he was sorry, and that he'd do better. He blamed his stress on it, and that he didn't mean to upset me. Little did he know, that final time we fought over it, I decided it would be the last time.

A lack of respect is not love.

We spent so much time angsting over this in the end that he barely know who I was.

Maybe Jon truly did love me, or who he wanted me to be. Maybe he still does. Or maybe he just said it so I'd sleep with him.

Either way, my mental health was suffering. The moment I realized I wasn't happy anymore, I wanted out. I needed to end it.






The worst part was that he was away on a trip and wouldn't be back for weeks. And I'm not some asshole who breaks up with someone over the phone. So for weeks, I stewed in misery, waiting for him to return from his trip so I could break it off.

I felt terrible about it. I knew that it would be awful for him to be dumped right after returning from a trip. But I also knew it would be worse, nay, cowardly to dump him over phone call or text while he was gone. It would've been downright cruel. So I did what I had to do.

He had told me once that one of his exes had dumped him over text, out of the blue, without even saying why. So I did the opposite of that.

When he returned from his trip, we went out. In person, sitting outside at a cafe, I told him exactly why I was breaking up with him. And I cried more than I thought I would, though admittedly I have gotten over it pretty fast, 3 months later.

Aside from the boundaries issue (which is unacceptable) and the not listening thing (he was the WORST LISTENER.), what it truly came down to was incompatibility.

He needs someone who wants to screw like bunnies all the time, and who doesn't mind someone who's a bit clingy.

I need someone who listens to me, and who respects me, first of all. But most of all, I want someone that I love.

Because when it came down to it, Jon was not right for me in several ways. I liked how attentive he was in the beginning, how sweet and thoughtful he was. But it changed so quickly, and he showed this other side of him, which I couldn't stand so much that he became unattractive to me. He became so unattractive to me that I knew I could never, under any circumstances, fall in love with him.

I need someone that I love.

And I know what love feels like because I have loved someone before.








With Ricky Bobby, I saw all of his flaws. I knew who he was, and what all of his weaknesses were. None of them mattered. Because down to my very soul, I loved him

I loved him. And as I said three years ago, I may always love him.

I swore I would never blog about him again. But on this tenth year of this blog, I can't help but bring it all back to the knucklehead that made me start this whole thing in the first place.

For years, I've wondered. Wondered if I'll even love someone else.

Thanks to Jon, I know I can.

For a little while, I thought I was on my way to loving Jon. Perhaps I was close. Before that whole incompatibility thing reared its ugly head.

And because of him, despite how it ended, I know now that someone can love me. That I'm not just this unloveable sad sack of a human, the one who cried herself to sleep in high school, thinking no one could ever love her.

I know I can be loved. I know now.









How long have you known me, Internet?

Have you been with me for all TEN years? In that case, wow. Thanks for sticking around.

Has it been a shorter time than that? Even then, wow. Thanks for being an anonymous friend in this lonely wide world.

For ten years, this blog was my sanctuary. It's been the place where I air my deepest thoughts, as loudly and as boldly as I want. I spent my formative years pouring my soul into the words on this diary, where strangers could either read them and identify, or read and be entertained.

I owe so much to this little space right here. This little corner of the Internet has meant the world.

But I'm sure that many of you, if there are much of you left, have noticed my increased absence in recent years. I would be surprised if anyone was reading this right now, in fact.

It's not that I've lost the drive to write. It's that I've channeled all of my energy and all of my soul into my fictional works. The more I gave to my characters, the less concerned I was about my love life, and the less self-absorbed I was.

And the more I've poured into my stories, the less energy I had for dissecting my own life and spreading it into words on the Internet, for the whole world to see.

My stories have grown into books. Books, plural. That I want to publish one day. And most of all, this year, I have been seeking a literary agent to represent my work. To find a publishing house so that those words might become real books one day.

This blog has been so much of my heart for so long.

And that's why I'm turning it into what I love most in this world: a book.









Of course, it won't be a memoir. I'll rearrange some things, pick better changed names, make some things more interesting (i.e.: FICTIONAL.). And of course, give it a happy ending, as my favorite kind of fiction deserves.

As for this blog, and for you all, I wish I could give you a happy ending.

I wish I could've come back with a bombastic, final blog entry in the form of AND THEN I FELL MADLY IN LOVE WITH JON AND HE PROPOSED TO ME AND WE GOT MARRIED AND BOUGHT A HOUSE AND NOW WE'RE HAPPILY EVER AFTER THE END.

God, I wish I could've. More than anything.

But the sad fact of real life is that it's not as interesting as books. Things don't normally get happy endings. If they get endings at all, a lot of times they're anticlimactic and full of loose ends. Sometimes the endings are sad and tragic.

I think if I had eventually abandoned this blog, just up and left it without another word, that would've been the tragic ending.

So I thought: if I give this an ending, let it be like most of life: anticlimactic, same as always, and maybe a little boring. (Aside from me finally filling you in on that first boyfriend thing, months later.)

Because God forbid, Internet, that I end this epic love story with you with a tragedy.

To those left out there who have read my words, read my life, and have stuck with me, this is where we say our goodbyes. I've always been terrible at goodbyes.

This ride has been wonderful. And I wouldn't have wanted to spend it anywhere else. I may not have found love in Jon, or in anyone after Ricky Bobby (so far), but I sure found it in myself, and in you.







When I finish this book loosely based upon this hopeless romance life of mine, I'll likely delete this blog from the face of the websphere. I hope that enough of you see this final entry before I do, but don't worry, that may be awhile. (But just in case, if you wish to download an archive of my entries, or copy-and-paste or screenshot them, or what have you, I would do it ASAP.)

If 'The Life of a Hopeless Romantic' (title pending) appears on the YA shelves of a bookstore one day, I hope that some of you might recognize me there and pick me up to live on your bookshelves, so that you won't forget me.

Because I certainly won't forget any of you.

I love you. Adieu. The end.

And, for one last time: Happy Holidays, and happy New Year. Take care of yourselves, Internet. May your lives be full of love. And show love to one another, even if it's hard to find for yourself.

xoxoxoxoxoxo

Forever,
Your Hopeless Romantic


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how do emotions work, anyway? (scary epiphanies are scary.)}
Friday, January 30, 2015 | 12:21 AM | 0Comment

And why do they come back to haunt you at the most inconvenient times?

Internet, I need to be blatantly, even bleakly honest with you. In a way that I haven't in a while.

But first, let me tell you about this book that I just finished reading called Lola and the Boy Next Door. (WARNING!!! Many many many spoilers ahead for this book, and if you haven't read it and want to read it and don't want it to be totally and completely spoiled for you, stop reading now!!)

This book is about a few things, but MAINLY it's about a girl named Lola and the guy she has a long, complicated history with, Cricket. I read this book in a few weeks, and the entire time I read it, there were a lot of things I was feeling.

You know when you read a book, and this book just gets you? Like, it brings up all of the things you needed to hear at that exact moment in time, and it takes your feelings, puts a knife in them, and twists it over and over again? That was this book for me. I loved this book, but it was excruciating for me.

You see, in the book, Cricket is the boy that Lola loves. And he lives next door sometimes, but other times, he moves around. A lot. And the biggest part of their past that's brought up in the book is the last time Cricket moves away, and right before that when Lola falls in love with him, hard. When she was 15 years old.

Sounding familiar so far? Well, at the beginning of the book is when Cricket's family moves back from somewhere far away, after she fell in love with him, an entire two years later. When she's 17.

What? What's that you say? No, nobody wrote a book about my life. This is EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED IN THE BOOK. I swear to God you guys, opening this book and reading it was like stepping into my own past.

So. You see why this book was hard for me to read?

And in addition to this: during the holidays, and New Years, for the first time in almost 3 years, I was thinking about Ricky Bobby. A lot.

You guys...this is so incredibly hard for me to admit. So humiliating for me to admit, in fact, that I almost didn't. I've been agonizing over whether to even write this entry. Still debating over whether or not to post it. (I probably will. I'll still be humiliated, though.)

Part of me is hoping that it's partly due to the holidays and such...I tend to get very nostalgic during this time of year. I was nostalgic and sad during Christmas 2013 too, but over entirely different people and for totally different reasons. So I was kinda hoping that it would just go away on its own.

Then I picked up this book with my giftcard I got for Christmas and started it. And got the reality ass-kicking of a lifetime.

To spoil how it ends (sorry), she and Cricket get their happy ending. And throughout their happy ending, all I could think about was how Ricky Bobby and I never had the chance for a happy ending.

This book brought up a whole mess of scary questions for me.

Lola took her chances and went for what she wanted. Why couldn't I have gone after what I wanted? Why was I not honest enough with myself to realize what I wanted in the first place? Cricket knew what he wanted, too. Did Ricky Bobby want me? And perhaps, by running away and breaking off contact with him because I was so scared of being hurt, did I hurt him? Was he going to tell me that he wanted me eventually, but I never gave him a chance? Did my own fear ruin my chances of having a first love?

The whole time I read this book, these questions consumed me. They chewed me up and spit me back out. To the point where I felt like the pressure was building up and up and up and I was going to explode.

In addition to all this, things with Brennan have come to an abrupt halt on my end. After a while of thought, I realized I definitely wasn't interested in him that way at all, and that he was really into me and I wasn't being fair. (Or that he's still into me. He still acts like he is, so...I don't know.) I'm trying to avoid the 'let's just be friends' talk with him for now, especially since we've had it before already and I don't enjoy confrontation. But I know that keeping quiet about it isn't good either.

But this entire thing has frustrated me all over again. Is the dating world supposed to be this hard? Some people make it look so easy. Dipping in and out of relationships with ease. Some being able to have nice, actual serious relationships. And here I am, me, who's never had anything work out enough to even have one single boyfriend. Is it me? Is it my fault?

So under all of this stress in my mind, I don't think I was in my right mind. And I did something.

I sent a friend request to Ricky Bobby on Facebook.

Honestly...I'm embarrassed. This is just like 5 years ago. Why am I constantly repeating myself? Going in circles?

I think I thought maybe that if I added him on Facebook, it would help calm the loud questions in my head, give me peace of mind. So I sent him a request, and he accepted the request, and for about a week afterwards, I felt better. I let it be, and I had some peace.

Until one night I made the mistake of letting curiosity get to me. And I went to look at his page.

Yep, I snooped. Like I was freaking 17 years old again. I think everyone does this on social networking sites, and I actually do this with other people too. But this time...felt different. It was like, from the beginning, I was purposely looking for something. Maybe that's why it felt wrong. (By the way...he's like...hairy. The face scruff has turned to almost a full blown beard now, and his hair on his head is super long. He's just...hairy.)

Maybe consciously, I didn't know what I was looking for. Scrolled through pics of him at his job, party pics, with almost zero emotion. But then abruptly, after I was scrolling for a while, my heart stopped and my breath caught. I'd found it.

Him and his ex. Lots and lots of pictures of him and his ex.

Pictures of them hugging, pictures of them with their faces squished together, pictures of him with his arm around her shoulders. Lots and lots of pictures.

And within all of those pictures, I found something else. Something scary. Terrifying.

I felt jealous.

I felt a jealousy so deep, so intense that my heart was pounding loud in my ears and my face was red and my hands were shaking. At the same time, I was trying to calm myself down. This reaction was crazy, I knew it. And I felt completely irrational.

And staring at those pictures, I could think of only one thing: 'That could've been me.' 

Where was this coming from suddenly? Was it just ghosts of old emotions, coming back to trick me? Or worse, were they current emotions, back strong and real and there? 

 So, as frustrated as I was, the day after this happened, I had a long talk with my mom. And told her everything. About the book I was reading bringing up everything again, about me thinking about him again, about the ex pictures. Everything. And mind you, me and my mom talk about everything. I tell her everything that's on my mind, and during the holidays, I'd brought up Ricky Bobby to her at least 2 different times. But this time it was different.

"I think...I think I felt jealous over his ex." I told her after explaining the request getting accepted and all the pictures to her. "I don't want to be jealous, but it was uncontrollable." I told her that I kept thinking that his ex could've been me. "I couldn't help it, it just came over me and I don't know why."

And then my mom said something that was kind of devastating. "It's because you still have feelings for him."

I sat there, mouth agape. Because she said exactly what I'd been afraid of this entire time. And then I closed my eyes, put my hands over my eyes and started crying. "But it doesn't make any sense," I said. "I haven't seen him in over 4 years."

She said softly, "Emotions aren't supposed to make sense. Sometimes they don't."

I kept crying into my hands. "I feel like I'm crazy."

All she said was, "I know."

Yeah.

Internet............to be totally honest with you, my headspace has scared me lately. And my emotions have scared me lately. My head knows this is impossible, knows that 4 years is entirely too late to think this way, and that he's likely never thought of me once in the past couple of years. My head knows that reacting this way to a book is completely irrational and insane. My head knows that people change a lot in the space of 4 years; hell, I've changed so much that some people might find me unrecognizable compared to how I was/how I looked 4 years ago. My head knows that logically I don't even know him anymore.

But the emotional side of me keeps telling me, over and over, that what I felt for Ricky Bobby was special. And rare. And the more I get older, the harder it will be for me to find it. Maybe I might never find it again.

And increasingly, I'm angry at myself. I'm angry at myself for never letting myself fully realize how I really felt about him. I'm angry at myself for being afraid of taking a freaking chance, for once in my life, and going for something even though it could've ended in utter failure.

Say the Noodles & Co scenario happened now, would I have taken the risk? Absolutely. I would have called Johnny, asked to hang out with him and Ricky Bobby soon, and taken the initiative. I would have finally, finally, told him how I felt about him. I have more confidence and self esteem now than I did then, so it makes sense. But I wish I would have back then anyway, even if he had rejected me again. At least I would have had closure.

Because that's what I think this is. I never had proper closure with Ricky Bobby.

And all this time, I was willfully pushing him to the back of my mind and distracting myself with other things instead of truly dealing with things and truly moving on. Instead of running away. When I still had time, and before it was too late. Before he got back together with the girl he almost dated in Pennsylvania before he moved back, and started a long distance relationship with her.

From what I can tell, they dated from the start of 2012 and broke up late 2013. If he dated anyone since then, I don't know. But I remember thinking how ironic it was that he almost dated someone there before he moved back here, thinking that that could've been me. And then looking at all their couple pictures now, and thinking the same thing.

What kills me the most is thinking that maybe probably the biggest difference between me and her was that she was braver. More confident. Went after what she wanted, just like Lola.

And me? Frozen by fear. Just like with everything else in my life. Letting fear and pride get in the way of what I truly wanted.

So Internet...reaching this epiphany of mine of the past couple of weeks has been truly painful.

Before any of you worry, I won't be acting on this. I definitely won't. Not like I could anyway. Even though he lives in my state still, he still lives hours away, so I won't be running into him. Johnny and I aren't friends anymore. And I have a feeling that Ricky Bobby accepted my friend request out of pity, or because he accepts every friend request, so I won't be talking to him on there either. But at least my curiosity has been cured, so there's that.

Realistically, the only thing left to do now is to try and learn from all of this. I don't know if I'll ever feel about someone else the way I did about Ricky Bobby. But when I do, I hope I'll have the courage to act. Because acting is better than running away from it, which is infinitely worse.

These questions about him and I, and all of the what ifs, will probably haunt me forever. But that's my fault, and I have to deal with it. And I will. I just need time.

So for now, my foray into the dating world may be on halt again. After all, first I need to figure out what to do about Brennan.

Part of me thinks that maybe letting things fade into casual friendship might be the best thing--you know, instead of confrontation that could lead to a big blowout and never talking again. So that may be what I'll do. But if he does ask, then I'll tell him the truth and hope for the best.

And meanwhile, I'll be grudgingly preparing myself for the upcoming Single Awareness Day season. Ugh.

But I'll be all right, Internet. Just give me some time. Don't worry, okay? But for future reference, don't be like me. Be a Lola.

xo Hopeless Romantic 

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Goodbye, summer 2010. Welcome, autumn.}
Tuesday, August 31, 2010 | 9:38 AM | 0Comment

Well, Internet, my summer has come to an end.

Actually, it came to an end on the 17th. I started school then, and so far, it's not so bad. I like my classes all right, except for Algebra 2, maybe. But I'm don't decent in that class, so, I'm not upset over it.
I'm also taking Chemistry, American Government, English (speaking of which, I'm supposed to be doing my Autobiographical narrative right now...shh...), Music Appreciation and Psychology. I love psychology. I don't know why, but it's just so COOL.

I also have a new two month old baby cousin that I just love so much. Off subject, I know, but he's the cutest thing I've ever seen in my entire life.

Anyway, for this school year, I fixed up my school room, and it has a butterfly chair and a radio and knick knacks and framed picture of Holly Golightly. I actually like being in there now. It's so cute!

My friends have started school too, and they seem to like this school year so far. The school has changed a lot since I went there. Since the school's a private school (one that's been open since the seventies, by the way), they're having a bit of a money problem, considering the recession and all. And 'money problem' is putting it VERY lightly.

Originally, they had two separate campuses for the Elementary school and the middle & high school, but they had to SELL the entire Elementary school campus for money. Not an entirely smart idea in my opinion, I think they would've made more money by renting out the campus and getting a monthly rent rather than just a lump sum, but whatever. They must've been desperate.

Resulting, the elementary school moved into the same building as the Middle schoolers, which sucks for both parties. I was terrified by Middle schoolers when I was in Elementary, and having Kindergartners running around the hallways and around your legs and 2nd graders standing in your way when you're in a rush to your locker doesn't sound so welcoming. I'm just glad this all happened after I graduated Junior High.

And apparently, they've cut back on spending also, because they've filled all their soda vending machines with plain water, sold half of the school's trash cans, sold a few printers to cut back on ink prices, and have talked about getting rid of the snack vending machines as well. Ouch.

And since so many things there have gone downhill, tons of people transferred school this year. Like, TONS. I don't blame them. Best Friend Rose said that all the hot people are gone, so things are boring now. Sounds it.

So, I'm pretty much thankful for my school experience now. Well, I have been, but even more so now. No pressure, no drama, just school. So I can actually FOCUS on my grades. It's a relief.

And Jazz is pretty much okay with school right now, too, except for one thing. She's decided to distance herself from Johnny and everyone else in that group.

Johnny's changed a lot in two years. I feel like I don't even know him anymore. Two years ago now, we were so close. SO close. He had drug problems in the past, and he could be a jerk sometimes, but he was a good friend. If I needed to talk about something seriously, he would listen. I felt like he cared about my life and what was happening.

But something happened. I don't know what, but something happened.

He's tried every drug I can probably think of, he's a total douche bag (reference point: dumping Jazz after ONE WEEK of going out), he's addicted to sex and does anything with a pulse and boobs, he's two faced and manipulative, and he doesn't give a crap about anybody.

I went to the mall with Johnny and Jazz a few weeks ago, and Johnny acted so strangely at first. It was like we weren't even friends. A little later, he got a little better, but I remember one specific incident when I said something dumb in a joking manner, instead of teasing me and laughing like he would've normally done, he literally acted like I was mentally impaired. It hurt my feelings, and it came out of nowhere, so I was shocked. He never would've done that before.

And, on the anniversary of Jazz's mother's death, Jazz was feeling, understandably, depressed. She was hanging out with Johnny that day, and when he asked her why she was 'acting so mopey', and she told him, he told her to 'get over it'.

When I heard that, I was livid. Jazz only just told me about this, and it happened in May. How could someone say that? How could he say that and call himself her friend? You DO NOT say that to ANYBODY who's lost someone, especially in the manner Jazz lost her mother.

You just DON'T.
And if he weren't such a condescending, self-centered asshole, he'd be able to grasp something as simple as that.

So I'm proud of Jazz for distancing herself from him. He doesn't deserve Jazz as a friend. Hell, he doesn't deserve any friends, and how he has any right now blows my mind.

And since we're on the subject of Johnny, let's talk about Ricky Bobby, too. Johnny and Ricky Bobby hang out all the time. In fact, once RB moved back here, hanging out between them was almost an everyday thing.

I found out that the whole 'I still like Ricky Bobby' thing for me isn't true. What is true is that I'm still attracted to him, and I possibly always will be. It's just one of those attraction things that never go away, and I'm okay with that. But I don't like him like him. Which is a relief, because from what I hear, he's pretty much an asshole too (a sexy asshole).

And he's doing that whole 'I hate it here' thing that he did when he first moved here in the 8th grade. Which is whatever. He's a bipolar douchebag, and always has been. I just forgot that while he was in Pennsylvania. So, I just don't really give (much of a) crap about him these (recent) days.

Later today, I'm getting my reserved copy of the first book of Cassandra Clare's prequel series to The Mortal Instruments series, The Infernal Devices, called Clockwork Angel. It just came out last night at midnight. I think that officially qualifies me to be a book nerd, but I don't care and OH MY GOD I'M SO EXCITED.

So right now, things are pretty good. My summer was great too. I now have a life again, which is a huge contrast from the last school year. I'm happy now. I'm taking it one day at a time, and I'm good with it.

Here's to a great Junior year! ;)

xo Hopeless Romantic

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