There's a few things about my blog that you should know.
I go by Hopeless Romantic for many reasons, but I guess one of them would be to protect the innocent. I'm not afraid to say what I think, so that also might be another reason. Haha. So, if some person I know irl were to come here and read every single one of my entries, they probably wouldn't know it was me. That's also why I make nicknames up for people I blog about.
I'm probably a lot more different than what most people would expect someone my age to be. Sure, I love clothes and make up and I'm a huge sucker for boybands.
But, I've been told that I have an old soul (Google it). Who knows? Maybe I do, maybe I don't. But please, take me seriously. That is all I ask. I'm a girl who's never been in a relationship before, so I don't throw the word 'love' around like a hot potato.
But I'm bound to have many crushes on the way, so, please enjoy reading about my roller coaster of a life.

Name : Sarah

I'm black, age 23.

Waist length hair, baby face, social anxiety.

Likes: Daydreaming, writing, reading, learning, fashion, eating, movies, all kinds of music, the color pink, kpop/jpop, kdramas/jdramas, the hollow heart emoticon, things that are cute, making people laugh, comic books.

Hates: Spiders, clubbing and or partying, really hot weather, close minded people, bigots, extreme sports.

contact:

email : here.
[NEW]twitter: @xohplssrmntc
follow me on twitter!♡


F.A.Q.

"Where are you from?"
The United States, in the western region of the country. I used to say 'mid-west', but just so you know, I didn't actually know what it meant, and I was using it wrong. Haha.

"Who do you think you are?"
Someone who's scared of everything and who hasn't completely figured out how to live yet.

"If you're so afraid of love, why are you so obsessed with it?"
I still haven't figured that out. But aren't we all?

{ ♡ }

imboycrazy I Wrote This for You. Le Love Gala Darling Caroline Calloway Insta-Memoir
if you'd like to be listed here, let me know!
Next? Next? Next?

Next? Next? Next? Next?

Next? Next? Next? Next?

Internet. Long time no see. The year has gone by and the seasons have changed, and it's fall once again.



2017 has been a ride. And it's still not over with yet--still three whole months to go.

So much has changed. So much has changed in 9 months that when I stop to think about it, I can't believe it's only been 9 months and not years.

I don't know where to start except to start at the beginning. So why don't we start with January?

January. A black hole in my memory.

I lost my dog. After a whole holiday season of her condition improving, and us hoping that she would continue to remain stable as long as possible, she worsened. She, the gluttonous queen of snacks and begging for more snacks, had stopped eating.

She only ate when persuaded, and a switch from dog food to mushy, homemade rotisserie chicken food only staved it off for a few weeks. That was one of the hardest parts for me--seeing everything she used to be disappearing.

We made the difficult decision to put her to sleep. And I lost my best friend in the entire world.

January, for me, is one large hole of emptiness whenever I look back on it--all I can remember is obsessively watching a show on Netflix, eating cereal and instant ramen on the rare occasions that I even had an appetite, and crying in my bed. Vaguely, I remember numbly going on a huge Amazon shopping binge the day after she left me. I spent close to a hundred dollars, and received packages for two weeks straight.

I also remember going to my first real doctor's appointment in 9 years and getting an x-ray on my knee. Then I returned to my bedroom, returned to my bed, and disappeared again. The x-rays came back fine.

February was more of the same. My dad went on a business trip right before Valentine's Day, brought me back a teddy bear on the 14th as a souvenir. I watched more Netflix, obsessively watched figure skating competitions, and ate more cereal and ramen. Lost a ton of weight even though I didn't mean to. Deleted my dog sitting profile for good.

March was lighter, better. My birth month was tinged with light here and there--I watched Moana about a million times, cried every single time. I even watched it on my birthday, after getting some delicious takeout at home and some great wine.

April, though. Things began to happen. I began to come back to life again.

I went to my first concert in 8 years. Cried and sang and screamed my lungs out the entire time. Traveled outside of my city for the first time in 5 years. Got a breakfast platter at a diner 1 in the morning before coming home from the concert and crashing and not waking up until 2 PM the next day.

This concert revitalized me. For the first time in months, my pulse raced. For the first time in months, I felt things I had forgotten. I was alive.

After my concert adventure, I was myself again.

I was still mourning, but I used all my emotions and wrote everything I had into my April Camp NaNoWriMo project, the first serious novel I had ever started when I was 16, which I worked on last July too. I wrote and wrote and wrote.

May, I continued to write. I applied for a volunteer position at the library--something I had thought of the month before. I realized I needed to be somewhere, do something. And this was something I could do, and do well.

June, I followed up my application with emails to the right people. One week later, I had an interview. And at that interview, I was offered the job. ON THE SPOT. And just like that, although after years and years of applying for jobs and never getting a bite, I had a job.

The rest of June, I got used to my new place of work, once a week. Got to know everyone and got to figuring out how everything worked there. Not without anxiety, though, of course. But I did it all willingly, because I was amazed by this chance that I was being given, and I didn't want to chicken out.

July, I continued getting used to things at my job. I also continued to write, on a separate book from what I'd been working on in April and May. I learned that having a 2 or 3 drinks still affects me two days afterwards, and to not do that right before my work days anymore. Heh. Thanks alot, fourth of July. I also watch fireworks in the candlelit backyard with Mom.

August, I finally feel like I'm fitting in at work and that I'm getting the hang of things. But best of all--no, BIGGEST of all: I finish my book, the one I'd started when I was 16. I finally, finally finish it. I cry and cry and cry with relief and happiness. And then I send it out to beta readers and critique partners alike, trying my best to swallow the nerves at other people reading and critiquing my pride and joy. Still working on that.

So, here we are now. September. And what a month it's been.



Mostly, I've been working, and reading, and watching lots of Gilmore Girls, and waiting on responses from all of my readers. None yet. I may have crumbled in panic over this a couple of times so far. But at the moment, I'm holding it together pretty well!

But.

There's a reason I've come on here today to update you all about this devastating, crazy, and exciting and strange and new year.

For a long time, I didn't think I could come on here and talk about things. Because for a while, I thought that what I faced early this year was my life from now on. When you're buried in grief, it's hard to imagine life ever feeling any other way ever again.

But then June happened. And life is so different right now. Completely different. But a good different. The kind of different that gives me hope.

And now, in September, something else huge happened.

Brennan. And his girlfriend. No longer together, as of last month--in August.

You know...it was weird. The moment I found out, I was in this sort of daze. I was almost in denial at first--I thought I was imagining it.

I'll admit it: I snooped his girlfriend's (now ex) Facebook. Oh, come on! Like you've never done that before, Internet?? Social media snooping is like an international sport at this point. Everyone does it! And by now I'm a pro at it.



And after all, that was how I found out he had a girlfriend two years ago in the first place--snooping his Facebook, then full on snooping hers because her whole profile is set to public, unlike Brennan's, which is semi-private. (Will I have the guts to actually friend him on Facebook one of these days? Time will tell.)

Now, another admission: I snooped her page way longer than I probably should have.

But there was a vibe to her recent posts that I couldn't quite put my finger on--a noticeable lack of Brennan. She's the type of person that tags everyone in random stuff on FB throughout the day, and makes regular status updates, posts pictures of where she goes and what she's doing. Not an entirely smart move to make when your social media is completely public. Especially for creeps like me. I digress.

ANYWAY. Yeah, she was always making gushing posts about him and posting pictures of the two of them together. And it went from always tagging him and posting on his wall and vice versa to...nothing. Except for lots and lots of angsty mood status updates with sad emojis and sad-but-supportive reactions from her friends, mid-August.

Then it finally occurred to me to stop being a creep and to just freakin' check her relationship status. I scrolled back up her page, eyes darting, searching for it. Then I found it.

Relationship status: Single.

Whoa. There it was, in black and white.

I ruminate over this for a few days, let it soak in. And that's when I realized that Brennan had noticeably re-appeared in my social media likes and Snapchat story views near the middle of August.

Ho.

ly.

Crap.

This realization gave me the courage, a few days later, to slide into Brennan's Instagram DMs. AGAIN.

I sent him something to the effect of, "Hey, stranger. How have you been?" Innocuous enough, right? That way, it looked friendly, and platonic. Just in case I was wrong about what my very eyes had seen for themselves. Because I'm paranoid like that.

But, lo and behold, all of my fears and paranoia were for nothing. Because when he replied, he called me 'cutie', just like he always used to. Like no time had passed at all.



Can I just say? I felt so validated. I still feel validated.

All those times that noticed all the times he would like my personal posts, and watch my Snapchat story when I had selfies in it--I'd always just had this feeling, like it meant something that he was still bothering to pay attention after all this time. All the other guys I'd been involved with fell off of my social media after a certain amount of time, stopped caring eventually. He never did.

I knew it meant something. I knew it.

And Internet. Let me tell you. Brennan started flirting with me. Started flirting with me hard.

I'm not going to lie, it felt good, really good, to have very clear proof that Brennan is still attracted to me. Especially now that I've long realized my feelings for him.



We talked for about a week, catching up.

He graduated earlier this year, and now has a great first job straight of out college, amazingly. He told me that he had decided to break up with his ex last month, and that it had been his decision. He also noted knowingly, to my mortification, that it was interesting that I had just randomly decided to text him out of the blue after he had just become single. I swear he knows that I found him on Facebook somehow--I don't know how he knows that, but he's pretty intuitive, so I guess I'm not surprised he knows. I just told him jokingly that maybe it was intuition, and he just laughed it off and changed the subject.

I told him that I had dropped out of college due to finances, but that I intend to finish my degree one day. I also told him about how much I love my new job, and that my anxiety has been much more manageable these days since I started taking some supplements (and they have helped me. They've helped a ton.). I told him I had been doing better the past few months than I have felt in years. He told me he was super happy to hear that I was feeling better, and he said it in the most genuine way. And when I read it, it gave me butterflies.

He continued to flirt throughout all of this, and the butterflies in my stomach rioted. For God's sake, I was swooning. I have not swooned since...well. Since my first kiss. But before that??? YEARS. And this was just from talking to him.

All he had to say was that he adored my lips, and that they looked luscious. And instantly I was a blushing, squealing mess, with my face buried into my pillow. And the same thing happened when he sent me a selfie, showing me his new haircut, which makes him look so effing hot. Oh my God. I think that Brennan is hot. And I want to jump his bones.



Hell. I like Brennan, Internet. I really, really like Brennan.

It terrifies me how much I like Brennan.

I have not liked anyone this way since He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, the whole reason I started this blog. I finally get what people mean when they say they feel like they're in high school again--that's exactly how I feel right now. With all of the ups and downs that goes with those feelings. I feel like I'm going crazy.

So onto the ups and downs.

As exciting as all of that was, the entire time I felt this low current of worry. Because I couldn't stop remembering that Brennan and his ex broke up only last month. One month ago.

In the grand scheme of things, 1 month isn't long. It isn't long at all. And I have no idea what a breakup is like.

I mean, of course I know what heartbreak is like. Hell, that's the whole reason I created this blog in the first place--because of my first broken heart.

But breakups? Breakups that are your decision? I don't know what that process is like. I have no clue how that feels, and what the consequences feel like, or how long it takes to move past a breakup that was your decision. It seems different from a mutual breakup, and different from when someone gets dumped.

So this whole time, I can't help but wonder: Am I letting myself be a rebound?

I mean. 1 month guys. That's so recent. Just a few weeks. I barely feel different from one month to another. 9 months is another story. (See above.) But 1 month? That's barely anything at all.

If I started dating Brennan now, that would make me a rebound. And I don't want to be a rebound. Not at all.

My feelings for Brennan deserve more than being a rebound. And if Brennan had feelings for me at all, even remotely, I think that deserves more than a rebound fling, too.

So. Because of these thoughts, infuriatingly, it soured me to this flirting between us. Even though two seconds ago I was so excited about it, these thoughts made me question it.

And I couldn't help but notice that every time I asked Brennan if we could switch from DMs to texting, and asking for his number because I had deleted it some time ago when I'd gotten a new phone, he had kept brushing it off and changing the subject. And so that made me see his flirtation in a different light, too: Maybe Brennan doesn't have feelings for me at all. Maybe he was just flirting with me because he felt like it, because he can now without being tied down in a relationship. Maybe that's all he wanted.

As all of these thoughts gathered in my head, meanwhile, I had sent Brennan a surprise selfie of me in my cute pajamas.

And he left me on Read for 2 days without even the smallest response.



....Internet. Am I misreading things, or is Brennan not actually interested in me at all?

 God, I feel crazy. I feel like I'm going crazy. And I feel stupid.

Why can't I figure out what he wants? Am I just misreading all of this?

After those two days, he only said that he'd been busy, and that I looked lovely. But my mind immediately skipped over the compliment and dwelled on the 'busy' comment. Because I couldn't help but wonder what had kept him so busy that he had time to open my selfie and look at it but not to type even a single word response.

Tired of feeling crazy, and tired of the ansty stomach ache I'd had for those 2 consecutive days that he'd ignored me, I decided to just take it out of my hands.

I told him that he seemed preoccupied, that it wasn't a big deal, and gave him my number, saying I was tired of DMing inside of Instagram and to text me when he was ready. And that if he didn't there wouldn't be hard feelings. (A lie. But I wanted it to seem that way, anyway.)

I just had a feeling that this may be something other than me. After all, he just went through a breakup last month. And he just got a new job. And I have no idea what's going on in his personal life other than that.

So it might not be me. It's difficult for me not to take things personally--especially because of my anxiety. The anxiety monster in my head reads into every single interaction I have throughout the day and over-analyzes it to death. Good or bad.

But I'm just trying my best to be understanding right now. Even if my first, knee-jerk reaction is to feel hurt and to push him away again.

This is a circumstance that I have never been through before. Being a potential rebound isn't a nice feeling. And I want to express that to him--but not yet. It's too soon. I don't want to assume anything, and I don't want to pressure him. No matter how much I like him. And no matter how much I'm bursting to tell him how much I like him.

Not yet. It's not the time yet. I need to be considerate of him, and to give him time and space.

So that's what I'm going to do. No matter how much it's killing me to do, I'm going to do it.

And now he has my number again. The ball is in his court. And if he never texts me at all, I'll have me answer, and I can move on.

At least I, for the very first time, won't have regrets about never doing anything. I took a chance, a risk, which I never used to do before. I put myself out there instead of running away. And that was exactly what wanted for myself this year--to take chances. To be brave.

If this doesn't work out, Internet, and he doesn't want me the way I want him, at least I know I was brave.

I'm still nervous. I still check my phone way more than is necessary. I still feel a small twinge of disappointment when I receive a new text and it's not him. It's been one week. I'll give him more time.



If after two weeks he doesn't text, I'll consider that my answer and begin to move on.

But at least this time I'll be able to move on for real, instead of running and hiding and hanging on to old memories without having any sure answers. At least now I'll know.

Stay tuned.

xo Hopeless Romantic

(PS: Happy belated Autumn equinox. Change has come. And I welcome it.)

Labels: autumn, brennan, change, i'm baaaaack, job stuff, life, progress, sarah flipping a shit but what else is new, tragedy

Hey, Internet. I have some updates for you, fresh outta the oven! And believe me, these updates are probably nothing like you were expecting.

SO, first off, and most importantly: MY BIRTHDAY. WOOOOO.

After a fun and happy, easy-going birthday, this Hopeless Romantic is now 23 years old.


(Above is the birthday cake of my wildest dreams.)

23. What? Wow. That's how old I am now? Wasn't I 17 exactly two seconds ago? What the hell, man. How did that happen?

But, yes. Long story short: birthday was great.

Full of lovely birthday wishes, family, italian food, wine, and red velvet cupcakes (which I'm eating right now!!). Not to mention two giant pink '2' and '3' helium balloons, which are amazingly still afloat and are directly to my left as I type. I also received a beautiful pink quilt which I had actually seen in a store a week prior and kept beating myself up afterwards for not having money with me when I saw it. (Thanks mom for sneaking and getting it for me.) That quilt is really gonna save my ass at night during the warm months, it'll be much less sweltering hot than my thick comforter.



Really, it was good that my birthday and the day after was so great. Because the 3 and a half days afterwards totally sucked.

The morning after my birthday I at least got to go see a movie I've been wanting to see, and so that was fun. Then, that evening, I got a migraine.

I took my migraine medicine, which has caffeine in it, resulting in me staying up until 3:45 in the morning. Then, 15 minutes after I finally went to sleep, my lovely sweet senior-aged pup had some gastrointestinal stress. Resulting: she shit all. over. my. bedroom floor.

Diarrhea everywhere. At 4 am.

So, lol. Yeah. Not so great.

After that happened, I proceeded to have severe allergies and sinus issues, which is currently still happening. NOT FUN.

But, hey. At least my birthday this year was great, and I have a positive memory of it! Soooo, moving onto less disgusting updates. (Sorry.)

Let's talk about what I know most of you are dying to hear about: Amad.



Hm. Where to start? Well, maybe I'll start with the fact that he hasn't moved yet!

Unexpected, right? Well, here's another unexpected tidbit: We haven't talked since February.

Hah...yeah. But not for lack of trying, on my part. Yep. That's right. I have texted him on two separate occasions since then, and guess what?

Nada. Nothing. Ignored. Ignored hard.

Incredibly, he's still been liking my Instagram pictures. But still can't respond to my texts. Amazing. And, you know what? I've gotten the sneaking suspicion that he really did get my text that time and really did just ignore me. Since he seems to be pretty damn good at doing that.

So...that's it, I guess. Game over.

Yeah, I mean, it's great and all that he hasn't moved yet, which I don't know the reason for, by the way. I was going to ask him why he hadn't moved yet one of the times I tried to reach out, but uh, yeah. Guess I'll never know. Guess it doesn't matter to me anymore, either.

He's made it clear he doesn't want to go out with me anymore, so I won't try to change his mind. You either like me, or you don't. That's not my problem, and it's not my job to try and convince someone else that I'm worthy of them. I already tried that once and suffered (R*cky B*bby in the 8th grade) and I have no intention of ever doing that again. I have more pride than that.

At first I was annoyed and confused. Now I'm just tired of whatever this was. I'm over it.

So long, Amad. Not sure why you decided to pull the disappearing act after being so into me, but I'll live.



I feel like I have done this little thing called moving on about a thousand times already. Sometimes it's easy, sometimes it really sucks, and sometimes it's hard. But I have to do it, and so I'll keep doing it when I need to. As many times as it takes.

He wasn't what I thought (or hoped) he'd be. He really was the immature little asshole that I'd hoped he wasn't. He disappointed me. And that's alright. That happens. Sometimes that's just the way it goes. That's life.

So, as I move on, I'll continue to swipe on Tinder--mostly to the left, along with eye rolling and and heavy sighs.

Onto some other news: MY JOB.

Watching Sally in February turned out great, she was a sweet puppy. After that, I had a few more meetings with potential clients that didn't turn into a real sitting opportunity because of certain aspects not working out.

Also, a week after I watched Sally...I had one of my trademark clumsy moments.

I sprained my knee badly one night as I was killing a bug. Don't ask me how I did it, I still have no idea!! I've been wearing a brace on my knee for a month and a half, and have also been elevating and icing it consistently. I've had an ape-like hobble of a walk for quite a while now, but I think all of this treatment is finally paying off.

It still hurts, but it's better. Not nearly as bad as it was.

But obviously, it's set me back in terms of working. I've barely been able to walk, let alone play with a dog every day and deal with sweet little fur babies slamming into my knees even though they don't mean to but bless them those little darlings are CLUMSY. So I've been taking a hiatus lately to heal, so also no money lately. Sadface.

BUT. I just had a great meeting yesterday, and the deal was sealed immediately: I watch their sweet little pumpkin the whole first week of June. Woohoo!

And if my knee is still not 100% by then (but it probably will be) then I won't have to worry about aggravating my injury, because their little dog is so close to the ground and tiny that it won't even be a problem. Yay.



With a healing knee and healing pride, things are looking up once again, Internet.

xo Hopeless Romantic

Labels: amad, birthday, disappointment, job stuff, well thats the end of that

Hoo boy, Internet.

I got some updates for you, and of course some more trademark Hopeless Romantic rantings. Buckle up.

What should I update you on first? Well, since technically my blog is a dating blog, why don't I start with what y'all really want to hear about: Amad.

So, after I wrote my last entry, I waited for his next move, aka setting up when we would figure out a set day and everything. No move came, except for some more likes from him on Instagram here and there. And so I kept waiting. And I waited.

And waited. And waited. And waited.

And I spiraled further into madness.

Two weeks had officially passed since the initial asking out, and two solid weeks of radio silence followed. Two weeks where I had basically overthought every possible thing and dug myself into a hole that I sat at the bottom of and thought about how he was totally not into me and I had misunderstood his asking out entirely or that he had been into me but something I did made him totally uninterested again and it was my fault and GAME OVER. (Holy run-on sentence Batman.)

I had basically overthought myself into an actual funk, a terrible mood that lasted for two days, and it did not feel nice. So after digging myself out of this hole/funk, and feeling somewhat decently again, I decided to do a Bold Thing.

Said Bold Thing is something that I rarely do with guys I am interested in: initiating conversation first when we have never ever had an actual real conversation before.

Doing this Bold Thing was so intimidating for me, for a couple of reasons.

1. In my mind, he had already rejected me once. I'm talking about when he first gave me his number and I sent him a text after many a deliberation and angsting and he totally blew me off. Yes, in my mind, this is a rejection. Yes, I know it was a relatively small action, but to me it seemed blunt: he'd changed his mind. He had no real interest in getting to know me, and had no interest in talking.
2. Because of my long streak in middle school and high school of never* having any guys that I liked liking me back, I developed a very strong fear of rejection. In developing this strong fear, I basically overcompensated with either never** telling guys I liked that I liked them or avoiding every possible situation of developing serious feelings.

(*with maybe the exception of R*cky B*bby when he moved back in the 11th grade, to be honest, I'm still very iffy on this.)
(**with the exception of Phil, which ended up being mistaken feelings anyway and I will regret it until I'm 97.)

I've talked about this here before. For me, when it comes to guys, avoiding = safe. A guy's too attractive? Avoid at all costs. A guy's showing interest in me? Avoid avoid avoid. A guy's trying to talk to me? Definitely avoid.

Of course that would leave me with no options and a completely dead love life for years, but I liked it that way. Things were simple. Uncomplicated. Safe. Worry-free.

So, in summary: for me, sticking my neck out and actually risking being vulnerable and hurt if Amad rejected me a second time?

It filled me with terror down to my very bones.

It took a few of my anti-anxiety remedies so that I wouldn't have a panic attack, and giving myself a lengthy pep talk...but in the end, I typed out my message to him (Something to the effect of, "Hey. Are we still on for that lunch? I figured if we're gonna meet, we should probably at least talk to eachother? Haha."), swallowed my terror, and sent it.



Internet. You know what happened?

He replied 15 minutes later.

ALL THAT SELF TORTURE, ALL THAT WORRYING. FOR NOTHING. GAH. I'M SUCH AN IDIOT YOU GUYS.

It turns out, that first text I sent him? He never actually got it. And he thought I was ignoring him.

Omg. The entire rejection was completely in my head. All that overanalyzing and mental gymnastics over a misunderstanding. Story of my life.

Amad being interested in me was the very least of my worries, because y'all...he is definitely interested in me. Most definitely.

After the initial lunch-asking-out, he's asked me out 2 more times. One was to hang out at his brother's house (which I of course said no to because it was 10pm and I was in my pajamas and warm bed and was eating Cheez-Its and tbh I wondered for a moment if he was joking), and another was to have dinner at his family's restaurant (which I said no to because I had literally just finished eating dinner with my family, but that I might have to take him up on that sometime, because between you and me his family's restaurant is actually really successful and I've wanted to eat there since before I even knew who Amad was).

Fast forward to now: our city just had a huuuuuuge snowstorm hit, and we're pretty much buried in snow and ice right now, which again makes meeting up for that lunch impossible. But we're both definitely interested in meeting still, so I have a feeling we'll find a way to soon. Which you will hear about if it happens. Gulp.



But like I said: him being interested in me is the least of my worries. Because there's some bad news, which I found out during our first conversation.

Amad is moving out of state. To the west coast. At the end of February, aka in less than a month.

Now first of all, let's get this out of the way, I know what you're thinking. This makes it the 3rd time a guy I'm somewhat interested in is moving halfway across the country.

What is with this? Is it me? Am I just inexplicably, instinctively only drawn to guys who are moving away and I'll probably never see again? Do I just have the worst luck with potential romances in the entire world?

So, yeah. I'm not gonna lie to you guys. When he told me that, my heart sunk. Part disappointment, part relief because to be honest, I had just been waiting for something to be wrong. So now that I knew what was wrong, it took some of the edge off.

I've been thinking about it ever since, even during some of our other conversations, and I have a lot of mixed feelings about it.

Here's the thing, Internet. Amad is very attractive. Very, very attractive. He's smart, socially aware, driven, artistic, loves his family more than anything else, and dresses REALLY well (not to mention his hair is possibly the best hair I have ever seen in my life point blank). And I am more attracted to him than I have been attracted to anybody in a long, long time. Not since R*cky B*bby have I felt this attracted to someone's personality and looks all wrapped up together like this.

I remember just a year ago today that I was thinking I would never be drawn to anyone else like that. But with Amad? I have the same feeling. I haven't met him in person yet, so yes there's a possibility that I'm 100% wrong and it was just an illusion. But I have this need to meet him so badly. So badly. I never want to meet someone right away like this. To be honest, it scares me a little.



The logical part of me knows that this can't end well, in endless different ways. The biggest one being that he's moving 500 miles away in 3 weeks.

Let's think about all the possible outcomes here.

Even if we meet, we could have a terrible first date, one that I would look back on cringing for years. But what if it went extremely well? So what? Would we date casually for 2 more weeks and then he'd peace out and move and we'd never talk again? Would I even be able to do that without getting too attached in the first place?

Considering I never even dated R*cky B*bby, my feelings were 1 sided, and I was miserable for months after he moved, I don't think I could. When I develop feelings for someone, I develop them hard and quick. When I developed feelings for RB, they swept me off of my feet so quickly, I didn't know what had hit me. It was also completely out of my control. So I wouldn't be able to keep myself from developing feelings, and it would all end in my heartbreak.

Say things between us went amazingly, and we decided to have a long distance thing. How well could that possibly turn out? He would be the first boyfriend I've ever had, and I've never had a boyfriend that even lived here. 

How would I be able to handle my first relationship with someone that lived 500 miles away from me, and one that was weeks old to boot? It would be impossible. I would go insane.

His moving to the west coast isn't temporary, either. He's moving there to pursue his dream, acting and filmmaking. He even told me he's been working hard and saving up money for months. This move would likely be permanent, aside from visits home to see his family, who all live here.

And considering my financial situation at this time, I don't foresee me being able to visit him out there. I have friends who live there, and I've never been able to visit them, either. All because of money issues. There would be phone calls, texts, and Skyping--but how long would it take for those to become tedious and not enough for either of us?

All of this would be so unrealistic. It's about a 1000 times more complicated than a relationship would be if he weren't moving and we still lived on the same side of town, i.e. a normal one. And a normal relationship in itself would be complicated enough already (because of work for the both of us, money for me, my social anxiety, my lack of license and car).

Why would I get involved with this and make everything needlessly complicated and painful for myself?

Honestly, I wonder how people even make relationships work at all. To me, they seem like the most complicated thing to achieve. It's no wonder how I've never been in one at age 22. With all of these complications flying around, how would it even be possible for me?

After this much thought, Internet, I'm not sure I should follow through with meeting him.

Honestly, it makes me wish I had met him months and months ago. So that I had gotten enough time to get to know him and hang out with him before he had to move. Because when he moves at the end of this month, it'll be too late.

I keep thinking about our first conversation over text. We were talking about what we wanted to achieve, and who we wanted to be. I told him about my dreams of being a published author (which he was impressed by), and he told me about his dreams of being an accomplished filmmaker.

I asked him how long he'd been interested in filmmaking, and he told me he'd been making his own films for 7 years. I was impressed, and I told him that I bet he'll kick ass once he breaks into the industry.

And he said, "We both will."

Boom. Chills. Everywhere.

I don't know why that's been resonating with me so much. Maybe because so many people that I meet brush off my dreams as if they're simple, or not impressive enough. Or they look down on me, as if they doubt that I'm smart enough to write.

So when someone, even someone that I've never met before, tells me that they believe that I can do it...it gets to me. Goes straight through me to my soul. And I've never talked to a guy that seemed genuinely supportive of my dreams before. Ever.

I shouldn't let that one sentence get to me so much, but it did. And it still is.

Internet, I'm conflicted.

On the one hand, I want to be logical and think things through. I want to protect myself and save myself the trouble and complications.

On the other hand...I'm tired of always walking away from situations that seem too messy, or complicated, or hard. I'm tired of looking back and regretting letting people and opportunities go. I'm tired of regrets, period. This other part of me wants to let go of my fears for once in my life and just go for it, see where the cards fall and go with the flow, consequences be damned.

Amad is someone special, I really feel it. Do I really want to pass this up and take the easy way out just because it might be hard?



Sigh. I always have wanted guys that are unattainable.

In other (better) news: FIRST SITTING JOB. THIS WEEKEND.

Yes, Internet, that's right. This weekend I officially start my career as a dog sitter with my first client, a cute year and a half old black lab named Sally. Yay!!

Her owners are going on a skiing trip. So this weekend will be full of playing with Sally, watching Sally, and juggling Sally and my dog at the same time. Wish me luck!

I'll update soon and let you guys know how it goes. And I'll also offer an update on the Amad situation...sigh.

xo Hopeless Romantic

Labels: amad, job stuff, new stuff going on, sarah flipping a shit but what else is new, work

Happy 2016, Internet.

How has your new year been so far? How has accomplishing your resolutions been going?

As for me, the first three weeks of 2016 have been...unexpectedly up and down.

I'll get to the ups in a minute, but as for the downs...well. Sometimes you gotta get some the downs out of the way, regardless of when. I didn't think that would happen the first two weeks of 2016, but there we go.

I have to say, the passing of Alan Rickman really got to me. It probably sounds ridiculous to some people, but he was one of my favorite actors. I may not have known him personally, but he still felt like family, in a way. Outside of his many roles, he was also a wonderful man. Rest in peace, Alan.



Another down: That big trip I briefly mentioned in my resolutions/holiday entry? Yeah. Not happening.

Turns out that the people I was planning to go with can't go anymore, and that basically made it impossible for me to go, even on my own. (Even if I could travel alone without having a mental breakdown, considering I haven't even been out of my own state in 15 years.) So yeah, that was a bummer.
Basically it was a combination of not having enough financially and personal circumstances. My friend felt really guilty about it, but it was partly my fault too.

I was really upset at first. The first day afterwards, I just let myself wallow and have a mental health day.

The next two days after that, though? HOLY MOLY. (Ups, here we come!!)

Literally the day I took a mental health day off, in the middle of the day, the most unexpected thing happened. So unexpected that I jolted up in my seat when it happened.



Internet...I may have a date coming up.

BUT WAIT. LET'S BACK UP. Beep beep beep.

I haven't told you about this guy yet. This is a little roller coastery in itself, so hang on tight.

I matched with this guy on Tinder back at the end of November. Let's call him 'Amad'.

When we first matched, I kinda flipped out, and for a few reasons. One being that he is...very attractive. Dresses well, fantastic hair, super handsome face, and actually knows how to take good selfies. Very important things. But there's one other thing.

He's 19.

Internet, you guys should know. I never go for younger guys. Never never never. (Well, okay, except for Brennan, kinda. He was a year younger than me. And Ricky Bobby, too, I guess. He was a year and a half younger. But those are the only exceptions!!!1) The grand majority of guys that I tend to get into are older than me.

This guy...is not. Not even close.

Can you picture me sweating nervously? Because I am. Profusely.

He's not just younger than me. He's technically still a teenager. And the only reason I swiped right is because I thought there was no way he would ever swipe right on me, due to our age difference and the fact that he is fine as hell and I am NOT.

Also, his family owns a popular chain of restaurants in our city. And he's a filmmaker. Can you spell o-u-t o-f m-y l-e-a-g-u-e? Even though he's younger than me he could quite literally get anyone he wanted. And I tend to avoid guys like that. Usually. Except for this time, when I apparently lost my mind.

At first I wanted to unmatch him and flee as fast as I possibly could. And I actually fully intended to. And then...I forgot. And then I followed him on Instagram, and he followed me back.

Whoops. So much for fleeing.

And as it turns out, I regretted the Instagram follow at first. After he approved me follow request and thereby gave me free reign to snoop, I snooped, snooped hard...and regretted it.

Of course, at first I had enjoyed looking at all of his selfies and clever captions and such. And then it happened--I opened up a picture from about a year and a half ago, and in the caption? A racial slur.

Sickness in the pit of my stomach, I clicked through a few more, heading back further in time. Found another racial slur. And another one. By then, I was thoroughly disgusted. To be honest, I was crushed.

Sometimes Internet, you hope and hope that a person you 'meet' is decent and kind, and then their social media accounts just destroy everything you had hoped in a matter of seconds. Here I was, hoping I had found an awesome guy (albeit young, but if he had a great personality I would definitely overlook his age), and then getting so immensely insulted and disappointed.



Deciding that he wasn't even worth any of my attention anymore, I left his Instagram feed and didn't think about him for another two weeks.

Unfortunately for me that was not the end of things.

After we had passively liked a few of each others' pictures back and forth for a week or so, he finally messaged me on Tinder and gave me his number, telling me to text him sometime.

I promptly freaked out. I hadn't wanted to even think about him again, let alone even actually talk to him. And he wasn't supposed to want to talk to me! That was the (unspoken, completely made up in my head) agreement we had!
I agonized over it all day, then, with a huge amount of trepidation and doubt, decided to text him that evening (several hours after he had given me his number). Kept it simple and straight forward. 'Hey, this is Sarah from Tinder.' Neutral and safe.

I waited. And waited. Waited more. Waited for days.

And....

No answer.

INTERNET. I WAS ENRAGED.

After deciding to give this little creep a second chance and give him the benefit of the doubt after what I had seen him say from a few years ago, which I never do, HE BLEW ME OFF.

AHHHHHHHH.



So I decided that from then on, unless he interacted with me first, he didn't exist to me. So long, fetus boy.

This was maybe two weeks before Christmas, and it worked well for a while, I'll give myself some credit. He would like some of my pictures on Instagram. I wouldn't even offer a thank you like in return, the way I usually did. All he got from me was radio static.

Finally, when he had liked maybe six of my pictures straight without any in return from me, I liked one back, hoping that would pacify him and he would leave me alone. (I realize how ridiculous all this is. Passive aggressive millennial social interaction at its' finest. Bleh,)

Plus I could not figure out for the LIFE of me how he could like several of my pictures and yet not have the decency to reply to 1 simple text message. Are we reaching that point in society now? Is texting going extinct now, too? Or is it just this toolbag? (Toolbag is also what I changed his name to in my phone.)

I continued to passively and sparingly like a picture of his now and then, and meanwhile he liked all of my newest ones. I maintained an air of indifference, even though I couldn't freakin' figure out why he could do all this but not answer a text.

Then it came. The day I was taking a mental health day.

Lo and behold, the Boy Who Did Not Know How to Text slid into my Instagram DMs.

Not only that, but he sent a picture of himself, and a message underneath that said, "You're gorgeous! (heart eyes emoji)"

Yep.

Called me gorgeous. With a heart eyes emoji.

AFTER NOT ANSWERING MY TEXT BEFORE. Which I was positive meant that he had 0% interest in me.

The second this happened, I was sitting on the couch next to my mom. And when I opened it, I nearly shot out of my seat. I had to try very hard to act like nothing had happened and I wasn't inwardly panicking. I had spent all day being sad, and now this was happening.

I took 45 minutes to excuse myself, pull myself together, and finally scrounge up a response.

I answered, "Wow haha, thank you. You're pretty gorgeous yourself (winking emoji)" Looking back, I feel that the winking emoji was too much, but oh well. Can't take it back now, can I? Besides, I have no clue how to flirt, so I at least get points for trying, right?

At one point, I was terrified that he was going to ignore me again and I had stuck my neck out for the third time only to be burned.

But thankfully, some time later, maybe half an hour later, he responded with something I had been expecting even less than the first message. "Let me buy you lunch sometime."

FREAK OUT #2.



Internet...I was having every emotion one person could probably feel at once without spontaneously combusting.

First, I was in disbelief. The fetus was asking me out? How? What? Huh? Why? WHAT?

Second, I was confused. I still hadn't forgotten what I had seen on his Instagram, and it still made me angry. But I tried hard to remember who I was at age 19. I was a very different person than I am now. I've learned a lot about people and the world since then. So why couldn't he, too? If it ever came up again after getting to know him, maybe I could sit him down and explain to him why it was wrong.

Also, I was confused about him being interested in me. Truth be told, this happens everytime someone shows any interest in me, even if I'm not interested in them.

I think it's the part of me inside that might always live in middle school/high school, when no guys outright expressed interest in me at all (except for Phil, but whole other can of worms, ugh) and it made me feel sad and even more insecure than I already was (which was a ton to begin with).

Sometimes I even talk myself out of it. I'll think, no, they're probably not interested in me like that. They probably only want to get in my pants. (That's my most often used excuse.)

But...there it was. If I gave him a real chance, his name wouldn't be Fetus Boy. It wouldn't be Toolbag. His name is Amad. And Amad was asking me out.

I still had the smallest amounts of doubts. But then I remembered how I felt at exactly this time a whole year ago. (See entry how do emotions work, anyway? (scary epiphanies are scary.) and prepare for some intense emotions.) I was miserable with my own regrets of the past. And I had decided that from this year on, I didn't want to have regrets anymore. That I wanted to give things a chance and maybe regret them afterwards but not regret not doing them and never knowing.

So I replied to Amad and said, "Sure, that sounds good. Let me know."



I agreed to a date with a 19 y/o. What did I do, Internet? WHAT DID I DO.

It's been a week since that happened, and considering the casual, non-committal nature of our plans, who knows when they'll actually be solidified and turned into a real first date, IF that even happens. But I said yes, so that's something I'll just have to deal with, I suppose. Wish me luck.

Along with that huge or not huge thing that may-or-may-not be happening, I have one more Up for you: I (possibly) have my first clients as a real honest to goodness dog sitter.

I met them a few days ago, a nice couple with a cute little furry baby. She's excitable, and energetic, but she's cute and friendly. I really REALLY hope this works out, because she would be an absolute joy to watch. And she and my dog get along well, which was a huge relief. (Also, since this was my first meeting with a potential client, my anxiety all day was through the roof. But it went well, so I'm very happy with it either way.)

It's still up in the air so far, but let's hope this all works out for the best!

I'll keep you updated on both fronts Internet. 2016 is off at full speed ahead already.

xo Hopeless Romantic

Labels: amad, job stuff, new stuff going on, sarah flipping a shit but what else is new, social media, tinder

Internet!!

So. I wasn't quite sure where to start with writing about all the things that have changed since I last wrote. I mean just...a lot of things have changed. A lot.

First things first...I live in a new house.

Yup. We moved. ONCE AGAIN. And this time, it's in a house with just me, my mom, and my dad (and dog). You might recall that I've lived with my grandma and young cousins for...well, as long as I've had this blog. Since the 8th grade. Basically my grandma moved into us to help us pay rent, because we could barely afford ours and she could barely afford hers, and it would be much easier for all of us if we lived together.

But after a while the dynamic in the house shifted--soon my grandma refused to help pay rent and the utility bill, and the pressure was on my parents to pay all of it. So as you can imagine, that actually made our financial situation worse. We have been very very tight on money, barely living paycheck to paycheck, for years now.

And aside from money, none of us had been very happy with living together for the past year or so. There had always kind of been tension, especially between my mom and my grandma (my dad's mother), but in 2013 it came to a head multiple times. Someone was always arguing or yelling at each other, or my cousins were always getting into mischief, leaving us to clean after them. And worst of all, for me, was that my grandma was always inviting people we didn't know over to our house without telling us. There had been many a time when a stranger would come over and I'd be in my pajamas in the living room, bed hair and all. Not only humiliating but also annoying when said stranger comes over again, sees me again but in daytime clothes, and would say, "Oh, you got dressed today!"

So around Christmas time, when we discovered that we would have to move soon because the landlord wanted to sell the house, I confronted Mom about possibly moving into separate houses now, and she could not agree more with me. So that led to both of us confronting Dad about it, and then him confronting Grandma, and well...here we are.

It took some convincing on her end, however. Until she realized that she wanted her own house again too, haha. Then we helped her find a house, and we found our new house. And it all worked out!

And here's the most hilarious part of it...we moved next door to our old house. HAHA. Literally one house over.

We were having such a hard time trying to find a place, and then we found out that the house next door was up for rent, so we looked...and it was perfect. Funny how stuff like that works out, isn't it?

SO. The new house. Just a two story, a main floor and a basement. And the entire basement is mine. Main/living space, my bedroom, my own bathroom with a door right to it from my room, and a WALK IN CLOSET.

I've never in my life had a bathroom connected to my bedroom, or a walk in closet. And as it's in the basement, it's quiet, and just as cool as I like it to be in my room. In all honesty, it's the best room I've ever had, and that includes the room I had in middle school where I had my own deck outside.

The only downside: the bugs. Inevitable for any basement, I think. We've been trying our best to keep them away, although there have been some pretty bad incidents (one includes a giant spider on the toilet paper in the bathroom, which I accidentally touched when it fell INTO MY HAND. Will never look at toilet paper the same way. Scarred for life.)  but we're working on it.

But the pros far outweigh the cons, and my stress levels have gone down significantly since moving. I think they have for all of us, even my grandma and cousins. And when we miss each other, we visit each other's houses for a few hours, and then we go home. To separate houses. And live peacefully how we want. Such a relief, I cannot even tell you.

So since we've moved to the new house, we've been very busy trying to get everything organized and looking presentable (or somewhat presentable) and my main area down here only has a folding chair, 3 bookshelves, and a TV in it, lol. But babysteps! We'll get it together eventually.

Aside from the house, some other things have changed for me as well.

• Me and Rose do not speak anymore, aside from the occasional Instagram comment or Facebook comment she leaves me. Which I'll sometimes respond to. 
• Me and Jazz don't speak anymore either, except for the time in January when I helped her out at her salon school by being a hair model (where I made the mistake of letting her chop off WAY too much of it, ack!) She was supposed to graduate her salon school in March, and I'm assuming she still did, but getting caught up with moving and my birthday, I didn't hear about it. She also somewhat recently deleted her Facebook, and as I only have her number now, I don't know what she's up to these days. Kinda sad about that, because she was the only person aside from family that lived here that really acted like she cared about me, but what can you do. 
•  Turned 21 (notice the change in the blog title!!!) in March, and I've since been enjoying an occasional drink here and there. My first alcoholic drink, on my birthday at the restaurant we went to, was a glass of Sangria, which I enjoyed so much that I drank my mom's afterwards as well. Got a little tipsy, and got my first hangover the day afterwards (hit me like a ton of bricks, good lord). I've also learned I enjoy mixed drinks, that I should not mix alcohols and that I should stay away from margaritas for a while because tequila is the devil. (Learned that two weeks ago at a Mexican restaurant, drank all of my Sangria and then thought it was a brilliant idea to drink the rest of my mom's margarita right afterwards. Threw it all up in the restaurant bathroom literally 5 minutes after finishing it. Not my brightest moment. But it tasted like a slushie! I thought I'd be fine!) So yeah, still learning. I didn't have any experience drinking in high school like most people so it might take me a while to get used to it and build up my tolerance.
• Started a diet. Now, before anything else, I want to clarify: I'm not doing it to lose weight. I've been eating a crap ton of fast food and other processed food the past 5 months or so, and I need to detox. I'd started feeling truly awful and so unhealthy because of it, so I decided to start a reasonable diet. I started this diet, the paleo diet, at the beginning of this month, so it's literally super recent. Some days I really enjoy it, others I want to put my fist through a window and then eat an entire block of cheese. But thankfully, I gave myself Saturday and Sunday to eat all the junk I want, and during my diet days I allow myself greek yogurt and hummus because I would miss them way too much.

Labels: birthday, change, firsts, health, jazz, job stuff, rose, shenanigans

Hey, Internet.

So, first things first, I want to apologize if I worried you guys with that last entry. I was feeling emotionally charged while I wrote it (hence the numerous typos and errors) and I wrote it on impulse on my phone. Plus, needless to say, I was upset, and I needed to rant. I really appreciate all of your encouraging words, and your concern. Thank you. I'm so sorry if I worried you guys!

SIGH. So. I think I should offer a little more explanation after the fact other than just "ugh i'm such a loser mY LIFE IS OVER JHSFDJHFSD". So here goes.

Basically, this is what happened: Less than a week before we were set to leave, somebody in the IRS or someplace like that (I'm still iffy on the details of taxes and all that stuff) found a huge, unpaid sum from years back that my dad forgot to pay, and decided "HEY, now would be the perfect time to take money from this guy!" so they took $600~ from my dad's paycheck.
Mind you, we are not well off financially at all, and my dad had worked double his hours just so we could get the money to go on our trip from that paycheck.

That $600~ was our hotel money, along with most of our gas money to get us there. All gone. And the time that we were set to leave for the trip, would be right before my dad was to get his next paycheck, which would not be on time, and even if it was on time, it would not be nearly enough.

So, yeah. No money,  no trip. And that was that.

The day that I wrote my last entry, Monday, was the day my dad had told me. I had spent two hours before that picking out clothes for the trip. 8 tops, 7 bottoms, including shorts and skirts. My bathing suit for the beach. A cardigan, just in case. I hadn't decided on my shoes yet, but as it turns out, that was for the best anyway. And, lazy ass that I am, I hadn't even started packing yet. Which was also good in the end I guess.

Yeah. I was...well, devastated. I told all my friends that night too, and they were just as upset as I was. They offered me encouraging words as well, which didn't help but I still appreciated them none the less. And then I logged off and lapsed into a sad, teary, catatonic coma for three days.

Granted, the next morning I started my period lol, so then at least I had an excuse to lie in bed and cry and be miserable for a few days. When I wasn't crying, sleeping or zoning out, I watched movies. That's all I really remember, which is kind of unsettling, but that's how I usually spend my periods anyway, minus the complete misery. I didn't even touch the Internet, which is also unsettling.

But eventually, by Thursday, I was feeling slightly better physically and emotionally, so I got up and tried to function as a normal human being again. I got back on Twitter as usual, reassuring my friends that I was okay, because they were worried when I didn't come online for 3 days straight (a true rarity for me).

The days of the convention and the concert, I spent it like I had spent them last year, on the Internet, waiting for live updates from my friends that were there. I think I actually handled it pretty well, to be honest. I think the mourning period was necessary for me, and in the end I still wanted to be happy for my friends that got to go. So other than the occasional, moderate pangs of jealousy that hit me every once in a while, which I kept to myself, I did okay.

I think the hardest part for me was knowing that above all, my favorite band, that at some point I thought I was going to get to see, was finally in the same country as me, something that rarely ever happens for foreign groups like this.
And they were still thousands of miles away from me, and there was nothing I could possibly do to see them. Before, when they're in Korea or China and I can't see them, it really sucks but it's not like there's anything I can do about it anyway. But when they're here? In America? And going to see them is more reasonable? And when I was doing to see them, had the ticket to go see them, and it was taken from me? Yeah. That's pure and utter shit.

Especially when it was my favorite. My Michael. Michael isn't his name, but I'm going to call him My Michael because when I described him I called him my Michael Jackson, and he loves and idolizes Michael Jackson, so I'm going to call him that. My Michael was here. He was here, and I swore that I would do anything to see him. Bought a ticket, for a concert in California, to try and get the chance to see him. And then it blew up in my face.

You know, I kept thinking, in the time leading up to the trip, that I wouldn't even need to talk to him. I just wanted to see him, once. Once in my lifetime. To see him once, in the flesh, would be enough for me. I would never need to talk to him or touch him or anything. If I could just see this person that I love so much, it would be enough. I would never even need to see him again. I would have been content with just that.

Also, I never touched on this before, but much much earlier this year, in January, I bought him a birthday present. I swear to God, I did. I'm a member of one of his Korean fansites, and this fansite was organizing a birthday event where people could send gifts and letters to the leader of this fansite and she would deliver them to his company's building all together on his birthday in one giant supergift. Korean fans are srs bsns, man. They're like a corporation, I'm telling you.

So yeah. I bought him a gift. Nothing extravagant or fancy or expensive, just something small I could afford. I found two cool handmade graphic t-shirts on Etsy for less than $20, with two cool designs that I thought he would like, and in his favorite colors. Then, I hand wrote a short but sweet fan letter, in Korean (which took me forEVER to translate correctly with the help of my friend who's semi-fluent, then took another millennium to practice writing the characters at least 20 times each just so I could get them right) and put it in the package too, and then sent it with love to Korea.

My fan gift, along with my labor-of-love letter, never made it to Korea. I don't know what happened to it. I tracked the package, and it showed it leaving America via Los Angeles, and then after that, ziltch. Nada. You can't track foreign packages going to Korea once it leaves your country, apparently. So it never arrived. Maybe it fell off of the airplane and fell into the ocean, where a shark ate it. WHO KNOWS.

But yeah. At this point I'm just like, WELL, JESUS. Maybe I'm never meant to ever make any form of contact with this man. Just, ever. The universe, fate, stars, what have you, clearly want to keep this from happening. Fan gift? NOPE. UNACCEPTABLE. Concert ticket? NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT.

Sigh. So, that's another reason I was so upset. But hey. At least now I know never to try to send a package to Korea again.

There are a few things I'm relieved to have avoided last weekend, however.

Apparently the convention was a disaster. This year was the second year of this convention running, ever, so yeah, they still had some kinks to work out. Last year I remember hearing it was DREADFUL, and unfortunately, I haven't heard much different this year. For instance, people that paid for the most expensive tickets, the tickets with meet and greet passes, artist autograph session passes, etc etc etc, essentially didn't get any of that. They got special access to getting a pass to sit in the audience during a Q&A session, and a red carpet thingy, and that's it. They canceled the meet and greet, and they canceled the signing thing and instead gave the audience already-signed slips of paper. So they paid hundreds of dollars for a ticket where they basically didn't get what they paid for. Ahem.

At least I didn't fork out the money for one of those tickets, but I feel bad for those who did. Aside from getting first row at the concert, they were ripped off. Most people who I've talked to who went said the convention was terribad. Hearing stuff like this, it made me almost...relieved. And I think all of this is what helped ease my earlier upset and jealousy. From what I heard, I didn't miss much. Which is a relief.

The only thing I'm still pretty jealous of was the concert. I heard that was the best part, and that it was amazing. And from the fan videos I've seen from it, I'd have to agree. BUT, if I had gone to the concert, I would have missed something else great going on that night-- THE NSYNC REUNION PERFORMANCE. Yes, it was like 2 seconds. I DON'T CARE. It made my whole night. NSYNC is basically the reason I'm still in love with boybands, at age 20. I still listen to their Celebrity album on a weekly basis. It is that serious.

SO. If I had missed that reunion, I would have been pretty upset. Even if it was for my favorite band now. And that completely made me forget I had been missing the concert, for at least an hour. How NSYNC can still manage to make me so happy, even ten years later, is beyond me. I felt like I was 10 again.

Sorry, getting off topic again. ANYWAY.

In retrospect, I guess I dodged a few bullets. And maybe it was better that I never went. Also on the brighter side, I sold my ticket to someone else that had the means to go, so I hope they had a good time (at the concert, anyway.) And with the money I got back from my ticket, I bought something that I've been wanting for a while. So there you go. With every door that closes, another opens, silver lining, and so on and so forth.

Even though I lost this opportunity, and also the opportunity to start community college this fall, I'm looking towards other opportunities. I'm starting my job search again, and I'm looking at a local scrapbooking store that might be a nice place to work. I'm submitting my application next week, so we'll see.

Also, my parents have felt so guilty about the trip falling through, that they sat me down and promised me--promised--that the next available kpop concert I want to go to, they'll definitely let me go, and that they're going to help me start saving up immediately.

That's another reason for the job search--money. Because this last minute money issue thing isn't happening again, not if I can help it, and I certainly can. And if this scrapbook store doesn't hire me, I'll search elsewhere.

From big steps to new steps. That's what everyone has to do at some point, right? I can't give up. I won't give up. I can do this.

xo Hopeless Romantic 

Labels: california, disappointment, fandom ish, job stuff, my michael, progress, trips

present me past me