It Doesn't Get Any Worse Then This...

"YES!" Me and my best friend, Emily, cheered once we found out that we were to sit next to each other in the new class, Content Area Reading, aka, the most boring class on the face of the Earth.

The teacher, Mrs. K, had posted a seating chart at the front of the classroom for us to go off of. We directed ourselves to our new seats and sat down, eager to begin the new note-passing trimester.

As soon as we sat down and began talking, that horrible, tall, spikey haired figure sat down in the seat next to me.

"Why did I KNOW that would happen?!" I asked Emily, hatefully.

Cal had been assigned the fourth desk in our cluster, and a friendly guy named Ruchin was assigned the other.

For those of you that do not know, Cal is my male archenemy. I have many female archenemies, but Cal is my only male enemy. He is the most annoying kid whoever walked these hallways. He's popular, tall, all the girls want him, and he's the most disrespectful guy I know. He always bothers me, and the only time he speaks to me is to tell me to shut up, and he rarely says anything else. We hate each other like Sue Sylvester and Will Schuester hate each other. Me being Sue, because I always make snarky comments about his hair, which is obvious to see that he spends more time on it in the morning then I do.

He puts his feet under my desk. I kick his legs. He moves his feet for a matter of twenty seconds, then moves them back under my desk.

"Dude, I swear to God, if you don't move your legs out from under my freaking desk," I hissed. "I will break your legs off and beat you with them."

He just grinned that charismatic grin and flipped his hair the other direction. I scowled. He had won, despite my mean and horribly hilarious comment.

And in Math today, him and I were having a conversation from our seats, which happen to be 3 rows apart from each other. I was talking to someone across the room, since we had the coolest substitute teacher E.V.E.R.

"OH MY GOD, Erin, SHUT UP." Cal said to me.
"You shut up, Cal." I snapped back.

"No one cares!" Cal snapped back, when I wasn't even talking to him.
"Yeah, well you never shut up, and no one cares what YOU have to say." I sneered.

The kids roared with laughter. I. Had. Won.

The thing about Cal is, you never know when you win, because for an outsider like myself, no matter how hard I push and no matter how snarky and clever my comebacks are, I always lose to Cal. Why? Because he's popular. THAT's why. You know you win when you get a satisfying roar of laughter from the surrounding children. I never get those, because I am an outcast. Cal gets them because he's a player and a loser. He's nothing more then gum on the sidewalk of my life. I'll be laughing the day that all his past girlfriends gang up on him and throw cupcakes at his face because of how jerkish he was to them.

And do you know WHY I'll be laughing?

Because. I. Was. Right.

This next part needs a bit of explaining. Allow me.

In Health, a few weeks ago, I was listening to Cal's conversations with his tablemate, because unfortunately, he chose the table beside mine, because we were allowed to pick our seats. I was sitting next to my friend Sarah.


To his tablemate, he was complaining about how he was single.

"Well," I added. "You don't ALWAYS need a girlfriend."
"Shut up, Erin." Cal said, in way like he was almost superior over me. "I wasn't talking to you."
"Well, I'm just saying." I said, under my breath.


And I will be RIGHT if his many past girlfriends bombard him with cupcakes. Wait, he doesn't even deserve cupcakes. Snails? Naww. Rocks? No. His girlfriends are all so skinny and limp that they probably couldn't even LIFT the rocks. Blowfish? Nope. Spikey earrings? Too easy.

I GOT IT :D

UGG BOOTS.

They all wear UGG boots every day, even when the Sun is so hot it could burn them right off their feet. All UGG brand, never off brand. I was getting so annoyed with these ridiculous boots that I even started a "Hugs Not UGGs" campaign.

ANYWAY, the day that they all bombard Cal with their precious Eskimo boots is the day that I throw back my head, laugh as hard as I can until I piss my pants, step on Cal's face with my sneakers, and watch him suffer like he watched ME suffer when I was all alone. And the day that he comes to school, crying, because he hasn't any friends, because he was a big jerk to every last one of them, is the day that he gets beat up by a tough-as-nails, hardcore, Glee-obsessed, hippie. Named Erin. And when he begs for mercy at my feet, I'll kick him over and say to the jerk. "Why not stuff it up your @%^ and get a clue." Then untie his shoelaces and walk away.

Jerk.

~Erin~

Living Room Concert

Is it illegal to hate parents? Because, I kind of do right now.

It's Thanksgiving. Happy Turkey Day, everyone! :) All my *close* relatives are over, and I was having a great time, until my mom announced that I would be doing my Living Room Concert tonight.

Living Room Concerts are assigned in band class, usually over breaks, where kids have to play for their families and the families get to leave comments and signatures to prove that parents and relatives heard that they played. And I absolutely HATE doing them. I mean, it's not that I hate playing clarinet, no, I absolutely love playing. It's just playing in front of my family that bothers me. I don't know why, but there are times when I want all the attention on me [which usually occurs when the attention isn't supposed to be on me] and there are other times when I'd rather not have the attention on me [which usually happens when it's supposed to be on me, like when playing clarinet or at birthday parties] but unfortunately, that's one of those times.

And it doesn't help at all that my step-grandma [who I call Nana] has never heard me play, and she'd really like to.

But of course, I have very legitimate reasons for not wanting to play.

~Most of the pieces the band director has given out are winter-themed, and I want to save them for the [stupid] Holiday Concert, mostly because it's not Christmas season-y yet.

~The pieces that I like that AREN'T holiday themed, yeah, I DON'T HAVE THE MELODY. I'll play some, and rest for seven measures, and then the audience will totally have missed the important part, because I don't play it. Blame the freaking trumpets for getting all the glory.

And the by far most important reason:

~I. Just. Don't. Want. To.

Although, my mom protests "Who said you get to make all the descisions in what you do?!" She says.

Me. That's who, mother.

I'm gonna sound all hippie here, and all, but aren't I my own person? I mean, sure, I'm a twelve year old girl living under the rule of her parents, but I live in the United States of America, and our Constitution allows Freedom of Speech, thank you very much. I think I'm old enough to decide for myself when I do my homework.

And of course, my brother, shy old Alex, has no problem fiddling away on his violin. My family could sit and watch him for hours, playing pieces I've never heard of that he claims are famous. They haven't cared to listen to ME play my glorious woodwind until now, of course, exactly when I don't want to. I'd play for my grandpa, Pa, when he came to visit with donuts on the weekends, but he never bothers to ask because he doesn't seem to care.

Blegch.


~Er•n~

Changes Suck. Bad.

I am really, really disappointed with myself now. I have become the exact thing that I do not want to. One of those icky wannabe populars. I find myself looking in the full length mirror in my bedroom and thinking "Would Aly wear this?" or "Would Michelle wear this?" since Michelle and Aly are the few 'popular' girls I know who are actually kind and friendly [More Michelle then Aly.]

And another thing, I started

Wearing.

Makeup.

EGAD. I know. Not everyday. But when I do, it's usually lip gloss [which is always washed away by second period, since I have band class first period. Clarinet reeds wipe the gloss right off my lips.], mascara, and eye shadow.

I also started straightening my hair. I only burned my thumb once, but I never seem to be able to get it straight the way I want it. Maybe I need a better straightener?

And the thing I'm most ashamed of.....

I've started lying to people.

Okay, that may be stretching the truth a little there, but whenever questioned about my Beatles loving personality, do you want to know my response?

"Ew, no. The Beatles suck. I hate them."

I almost always go to the bathroom after that and wash my mouth out with soap and bang my head against the door. Not kidding.

But in a few ways, I haven't changed at a bit. I still listen to Ke$ha and Lady Gaga religiously, and I watch Glee like toddlers watch Dora the Explora, I'm still terrified to touch a curling iron, and I still worship John Lennon. Keeping up with the Kardashians, Estate of Panic, and The Biggest Loser are still my favourite reality shows, and I still write my words with the English/European format, despite how many points my English teacher takes off my essays. I still hate my gifted teacher with a passion [Yes, I am a gifted child. Got a problem? Suck it.] because she calls me by my first & last name and tells me she reminds her of her when I was her age, and my relationship status on Facebook is "divorced" even though I've never been in a relationship, and my favorite food is still pretzel chicken.


Don't worry guys, it's still me, you're average everyday Erin ;)



Puh-shaw.


~ERON~