Am I allowed to be ticked off?
Upset?
Under appreciated?
Sad?
Angry?
Good. Because I'm feeling all of that right now. BLAH.
My birthday is in....*counts on fingers* sixteen days. We're having a celebration on my actual birthday since it's on a Sunday, and I have to admit I'm pretty excited. Mostly because I'm asking for a new doll from my grandparents.
But....I have a problem.
I have a cousin, she's 21 with a baby son and a fiancée who she will be married to on August 7th. I. Hate. Her.
First off, she treats me like I'm some little kid. Personally, I think it's because of my love of dolls and photographing them. HELLO? I'm 11 years, going on 12, old! I'm old enough to ride the big rides at theme parks [if I wasn't deathly afraid of heights, which I am] and I'm almost enough enough to see PG-13 movies on my own. Same to my older brother, Alex. DUDE. That kid is taller then SHE IS. Next April he can get his temporary license, but he isn't officially 16 until October of 2011. She scolds Alex like she's his mother for being his usual quiet and shy self and not talking to her. Personally, I can't blame him! If I was allowed, I'd never speak to her for the rest of my life. But I'm not. So I'm forced to.
ANYWAY, my mom invited her to my family birthday party, and as you can probably tell by my description above that I obviously don't want her at my party. Why, you may ask? Well, there are several explanations for that.
1) Since I want to celebrate my birthday with my dolls, I like to leave them out atop the fireplace hearth to be apart of the party. Anytime my cousin's son sees them, he grabs a hold of them and mangles their hair and messes them up. That kid obviously does NOT know how hard it is for me to get 12 dolls hair done in less then an hour.
2) I HATE the way she treats me. See Paragraph 6.
3) I get this guilty feeling in my chest when I get something like presents and someone else doesn't. I don't know why, but ever since I was small I always hated to get gifts and have someone else not. I guess it just adds to the fun of recieving.
4) I, obviously, won't be the youngest at the party, and my chest bubbles filled with envy when my grandparents are cooing and cuddling her little son and when my mom talks to him in that baby-ish tone of voice, and once again, ever since I was young I've always liked to be the center of attention, especially at my own parties [Isn't that the point of them!?]. Him and his stupid screams and his 'adorable' baby words will be too much for my own good. They'll have to wipe me off the walls after the big explosion.
5) I've always liked my family celebrations small. Just my family of four, and my 2 sets of grandparents and my brother's godfather. And that's it. Adding 2 more humans and a small person will make the table too crowded, and a crowded table equals unhappy Erin. A crowded table equals less cake for leftovers the next day, since they'll be feeding the little animal in the high chair every last bit.
As you can see, I have had a lot of anger and hatred towards my cousin and her family. Blogging about this makes meh feel better about myself.
~Eriiiiiiiiin~
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
Welcome to Meh Blog
Hi. I'm Erin. This is my very first personal blog, and I'm kind of new to writing a blog for myself. Let's try and see what happens.
Well, first off, I'm a hippie. Yes, h-i-p-p-i-e. I love old music, wearing hippie-ish clothing, and I believe that everyone should just love each other and there should be no fighting or wars. Which is where my problem comes in.
I consider myself the most hated girl in the 7th grade. I, myself, do not know why.
Was it my appearance?
I don't really take care of myself like the girls in my school do. I mean, sure I shower and wash my hair and do all the necessary stuff, but I don't really wear makeup or style my hair often. Normally, I just brush it and go. Since the kids in my school are as shallow as kiddie pools, they all ignored me and hated on me. The only people who truly understood my point of view were my best friends, Jenna and Gillian. They're the best in the world, I don't know what I'd do without them. Actually, without them I'd be some depressed hippie without a meaning in life. Which brings me to my next point.
Was it my personality?
I'm different. I'm not afraid to admit it. I wear different clothes, like Beatles tees and tye dye. I wear headbands across my forehead, giant peace medallions and wood beads. They all hated on me for being different. They just couldn't accept the fact that I was meant for the 60s, so their only was of accepting it was rejecting me. Jenna is my best friend in the entirest world. She's a hippie, too. We both love The Beatles and we both wore tye dye and peace signs. We'd walk down the hall together singing Beatles songs at the top of our lungs. People would stare, but we wouldn't care. We'd laugh and sing and we'd love it. But deep down inside, I was hurting.
Was it my need to be accepted?
In 6th grade, I truly tried anything to be accepted. I begged my mom to take me to get Silly Bandz once they became a fad. I cracked annoying jokes to the teachers, causing me huge embarassment when they yelled at me. The kids laughed, and so did I, but deep down, I hurt. No matter how hard I tried, nobody would take an intrest in me. They all just teased me about my hippie-ish advance on the world and my lack of intrest in pop music.
Then I met Josh.
Josh was a good friend. We found things we loved about each other. We both loved The Key of Awesome parodies and making videos. We both were smarter then most kids, since we had a different mindset that teachers call "gifted". They said we had the same mindset. Other kids didn't understand the way we gifted kids thought. Maybe that's why Josh and I understood each other well. We both complained when our gifted teacher gave us somewhat-low grades on projects, and we knew what the other was talking about. He was a great friend. Maybe one of my best friend. Other kids teased us, especially me. They thought just because a guy and a girl were hanging out like best friends, that we liked each other. Like, like-liked. As summer holidays came, he drifted away from me. He rarely replies to my text messages and my comments on YouTube. Is this a sign? Maybe things will change when school starts.
Blog to ya laterz,
~Erin~
Well, first off, I'm a hippie. Yes, h-i-p-p-i-e. I love old music, wearing hippie-ish clothing, and I believe that everyone should just love each other and there should be no fighting or wars. Which is where my problem comes in.
I consider myself the most hated girl in the 7th grade. I, myself, do not know why.
Was it my appearance?
I don't really take care of myself like the girls in my school do. I mean, sure I shower and wash my hair and do all the necessary stuff, but I don't really wear makeup or style my hair often. Normally, I just brush it and go. Since the kids in my school are as shallow as kiddie pools, they all ignored me and hated on me. The only people who truly understood my point of view were my best friends, Jenna and Gillian. They're the best in the world, I don't know what I'd do without them. Actually, without them I'd be some depressed hippie without a meaning in life. Which brings me to my next point.
Was it my personality?
I'm different. I'm not afraid to admit it. I wear different clothes, like Beatles tees and tye dye. I wear headbands across my forehead, giant peace medallions and wood beads. They all hated on me for being different. They just couldn't accept the fact that I was meant for the 60s, so their only was of accepting it was rejecting me. Jenna is my best friend in the entirest world. She's a hippie, too. We both love The Beatles and we both wore tye dye and peace signs. We'd walk down the hall together singing Beatles songs at the top of our lungs. People would stare, but we wouldn't care. We'd laugh and sing and we'd love it. But deep down inside, I was hurting.
Was it my need to be accepted?
In 6th grade, I truly tried anything to be accepted. I begged my mom to take me to get Silly Bandz once they became a fad. I cracked annoying jokes to the teachers, causing me huge embarassment when they yelled at me. The kids laughed, and so did I, but deep down, I hurt. No matter how hard I tried, nobody would take an intrest in me. They all just teased me about my hippie-ish advance on the world and my lack of intrest in pop music.
Then I met Josh.
Josh was a good friend. We found things we loved about each other. We both loved The Key of Awesome parodies and making videos. We both were smarter then most kids, since we had a different mindset that teachers call "gifted". They said we had the same mindset. Other kids didn't understand the way we gifted kids thought. Maybe that's why Josh and I understood each other well. We both complained when our gifted teacher gave us somewhat-low grades on projects, and we knew what the other was talking about. He was a great friend. Maybe one of my best friend. Other kids teased us, especially me. They thought just because a guy and a girl were hanging out like best friends, that we liked each other. Like, like-liked. As summer holidays came, he drifted away from me. He rarely replies to my text messages and my comments on YouTube. Is this a sign? Maybe things will change when school starts.
Blog to ya laterz,
~Erin~
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