Why I'm Being Hated On

I do believe I have found the source of being hated on. Allow me to elaborate.


All my life, I've been raised as "one of the guys", most likely because I used to stick around when my brother's friends came over and joined in on their fun. And no, at that time, I wasn't "Alex's annoying little sister", I was Erin. They didn't care that I was a girl because I added to their fun.

Elementary school was the same way. Kindergarten through fourth grade, I always had more guy friends then girl friends. We'd play sports and games at recess and I'd always doodle in the backs of my notebooks and we'd always compare drawings.

Fifth grade was a little different. That's when girls got interested in guys, and even started dating. Me, heck no. I may have switched to skinny jeans and Aeropostle, but I still played intense tag games and tried joining in the football games. This was also the year that I discovered a newfound love for the Beatles.

Now I'm in seventh grade, aka, middle school. Kids are dating already, and there's rumors galore, UGG boots, Hollister, and tackle football.

I discovered that guys are the "clowns". They make the jokes, they get in trouble, they make jokes. There are two types of guys. One is the cool guys, also known as the ones I just described. They're the ones that girls date. They're the ones that are super mean to outsiders. And then, there are the nerdy guys. They want to be like the cool guys, but it seems like they're trying too hard. They're really nice and they're funny, too

Now as for the girls, they aren't supposed to be funny. Nope. Not at all. They're supposed to be pretty and mean, perfect for the cool guys. They're supposed to be rich, with UGGs and Hollister composed closests. Usually are cheerleaders. Most of them are in choir, but if they happen to be in band, they better play flute, and normally they're either really good or they suck at it. They gossip like crazy. Normally teacher's pets, with perfect grades.

Now for the "outsider girls". They're funny. They couldn't give a shizz if they owned UGG boots. They aren't afraid to speak out for what they believe in, whether it's right or not. Teacher's hate them, because they're always talking and always have something to say about anything. The last thing on their mind is getting a boyfriend. They boo when the cheerleaders step up to the court at pep rallies and at sports events. They aren't afraid to play a "guys" instrument, like trombone, saxophone, or trumpet. Or clarinet. The only thing they want to do with a flute is bash it against the wall. Gossip is nothing compared to their hilarious inside jokes and laughter. Average grades, mostly A's, with one, maybe two, B's.

All girls classified as "tomboys" fit into the "outsider" category. They are ridiculed, excluded, and they usually have low self esteem, but they have amazing friends. Usually, beotches like the ones I've described in past blogs are in the first category.

Guess what category this hippie's in?

Would I like to be in the top category? Yes and no.

Am I going to change who I am to get into the top category?

Heck no.

~Erin~

Rant of the Day- "Santa"

WORD OF WARNING:


IF YOU BELIEVE IN SANTA CLAUS, STOP READING AT ALL COSTS!

......

Okay, now that that's settled, I have another rant for y'all.

SANTA CLAUS.

I'm twelve years old. I haven't believed in Santa Claus since I was about nine. That was in fourth grade, and even then I wasn't sure if he was real or not. When I turned ten, I gave up the Santa dream, and at ages eleven and now twelve, I pretty much dropped the whole Santa dream entirely.

Well, I'm getting that feeling that my family is trying to force the Santa back into me. Do you know what I mean?

Take today for example. My grandparents came over to help bake Christmas cookies. After a while, I went to go hug my grandma, and she said to me "What if Santa doesn't bring you Gwen?"
After a quiet cringe, I said "Santa's not real."
My dad piped up from across the room. "Yes he is! Santa's the man!"
"I don't believe in Santa." I said, almost irritably.
"You don't have to believe in him, but he's real." Ma said.
"Since you don't believe in Santa, are you not going to allow your kids to get presents on Christmas and believe in Santa?" Papa asked, almost intimidating me.
I stopped there and just left, because that was just plain insulting. I know my parents and grandparents don't believe in Santa and they still let Alex and I believe in Santa, and yet they have the nerve to tell me something like that? That's just rude.

My dad has also on several occasions brough up Santa's being real-ness. And on every occasion he brings it up, he always mentions how 'if you don't believe in him, you don't get any presents'.

Okay, I don't mean to get all stereotypical-teenager on my parents, but I'm twelve freaking years old. I KNOW Santa's fake, and I KNOW that my parents are the ones who leave the presents under the tree on Christmas morning. And YES, at one point, I did believe in Santa, and YES, I did enjoy waiting up midnight to try and catch him coming down the chimney, and YES, I did leave cookies and milk on the table in the living room.

But like I said, I'm twelve years old, and those days are over. Sure, I love waking up on Christmas morning and opening the gifts and being with my family, and Santa minused out of that really doesn't change anything. I don't get mad and defy my parent's beliefs, so they have absolutely no reason to defy mine.

Now, just because I don't believe in Santa doesn't mean I'm going to go be evil and ruin other little kid's beliefs. When I see a little kid I know, I usually ask them what they asked Santa for for Christmas. I let them have their fun, just like I had mine.

Anyone who agrees?

~ERIN~

Average People Make Me Want to SCREAM.

I deserve WAY more respect than I am getting from my classmates.


Formspring.


My YouTube Formspring--blossoming! I've been getting some awesome questions! Some weren't even questions--they were so nice and they made my day! "You're so awesome!" "You are such a great writer; I love Beth's blog!" "Your writing is, like, fine art!" "You take such awesome pictures!" "Erin, you're such a talented photographer!" It makes me want to hug them.

Then I log onto my personal Formspring and my Facebook account, and it's just a bilge of disrespect. The only question I've been asked is "why i'm so in love with cal" which is the biggest sack of dog crap I've ever heard. My response was simply ">.<>

I hate people.

And the sad part about everything is, that my family is considering moving out west, and I'm ACTUALLY agreeing with them. Instead of protesting moving, because I'd miss my friends and my school, I'm actually CONVINCING them that the further we go from Ohio, the better. Further away from Cal, further away from my LIFE, further away from people who hate me, further away from sadness and mean people.

Further away from the place I hate the most.

The only things I would miss are Jacie, Natalie, and Emily; aka my best friends.

To be honest, I don't fully understand why they hate me so freaking much. I act like the bitches who rule the seventh grade, and I dress like them, and I do everything they do except cheerlead and sports. And I still get disrespected like you wouldn't BELIEVE.

We got new seats in World History on Monday, and now I'm seated next to a teacher's pet of a popular chick. I smiled at her. She looked at me, surveyed my outfit, gave a look that reminded me of a grimace, then looked away. I wanted to knock her into the ground, because that pissed me off so badly. She didn't even SAY anything to me. Which, proves my point, that the only thing that matters to be popular is appearances.

There's this girl named Aly. Mean as heck. Talks to me like I'm a fourth grader. Looks at me like I'm a retard. And yet, she still gets asked out and treated like she's the Queen of England.

Jeez I hate them >.<


~Erin~