Rant of the Day: "Alex's Little Sister"

All my life, all my 12 years, I've been known as "Alex's little sister." And it sucks.

My parents, my teachers, my brother's fellow 9th grade students, all know me, no, not as Erin, they know me as "Alex's little sister."

Too many times I've gone into classrooms that my brother once learned in, hoping that I can make a person out of my own, and I get asked. "Oh, so you're Alex's little sister?"

And too many times, I've had to answer, "yes."

And TOO MANY TIMES at parent-teacher conferences, I've had my parents been told

"Gosh, your kids are as different as night and day!"

And TOO MANY TIMES, my parents have had to reply "Yes, they are."

That's probably what I hate most. People always compare me to Alex, but we're nothing alike. He's shy, cocky, overconfident, has good eyesight, has blue eyes, never speaks to anyone he doesn't know, does what he's told, he's a hippie hater, and is a violinist.

I'm outgoing, have low-self esteem, I have the eyesight of a bat, I have been told [TOO MANY TIMES] that I have the eyes of a dark chocolate candy bar, I always talk to random people I see, and I always rebel and don't listen, I am a pureblood HIPPIE [without the whole "doing drugs" part] and I play the clarinet.

Do you see ANY resemblance? ANY AT ALL?

Well, there are maybe a few things that are alike about the 2 of us.

For one, we can both sware like sailors at times. And we're both conservative in political views, and we both agree that global warming is a plot for financial gain [which it is]. We both eat like pigs and we both stole my mom's blonde hair while we were little kids. And we both agree that our parents can make no sense at times.

Most of the time, I feel like I'm living in Alex's shadow. I'm expected to get perfect grades and be first chair in band class. And it hurts. One day, I'm almost positive I'm going to hear "Why can't you be more like Alex!?" And from my one set of grandparents, I already have.

I feel it's a good thing that I'm taking a totally different pattern of life then he is. I'm joining drama club and doing photography, while he's listening to political radio shoes and playing computer games. My accomplishments have shown a huge difference. My grandpa cried when my mom showed him my 2nd AGMA Assignment, and my mom cried when I showed her my first stopmotion, Here Comes the Sun [even though it sucked butt]. But still, I feel like its nothing compared to my brother's accomplishments, and that mine are shabby and pathetic compared to his.

He got into an advanced orchestra group for school that you have to be asked to join. I got into a modeling academy on YouTube for dolls that you have to audition and be accepted into.

He got 1st chair violin [and kept it through the whole year, no one dared challenge him] and I got an A on my 1st band quiz.

Do you see the difference?

I do.

~Erin~

Saturday Means School on Monday

NOOOOOOO!

I hate school. I always have, and I always will. On my first day of kindergarten, the happy-smiley little Erin skipped to school in a plaid dress and ridiculous pigtails that her mom forced her to wear. SHE was excited to go to school.

Yeah, well she's gone.

Maybe I hate school because of all the judging going on there. Especially since I'm in middle school, the judging goes on faster then a cheesecake served at a birthday party.

People look at me and they see:

Tall girl. Shoulder length-reddish blonde hair. Beatles tee-shirt. Brightly colored skinny jeans and a pair of converse.

DING DING DING DING DING.

Beatles tee shirt. That is the ONE THING that marks me as hippie. I like the Beatles, I wear peace signs, and I want world peace. Got a problem with that?

People listen to me and they hear:

Loud girl. Never shuts up. Isn't afraid to stand up to teachers and other adults about what she feels. Often in trouble for talking to other students.

They think: Independent. Has her own mind.

Well, that's good. But since people have the wrong idea about hippies, they just add it to the hippie assumption.


My mother wants me to change. She wants me to be more liked in school and not be a hippie.

The thing is, I DON'T WANT TO CHANGE.

I like being a hippie. I like being assumed that I belong in the 1960s, because I do.

And. I. Don't. Give. A. Crap. If. I'm. Popular.


Sure, it bugs me that people judge me and hate on me because of my hippie-ness. But I like what I do. I don't mind walking down the hallways singing Yellow Submarine with my best friend and getting all these strange looks. We're having fun, and if the people of this society can't understand that fun isn't always going on a date or texting your "bestie", then they can all rot and burn at the curb for all I care.


Jenna and I love being judged as "the weird girls". Earlier this week, I got tagged on one of those Animated Facebook pictures as "the one that's up to know good." And when I asked why, I got the answer:

"Erin, think. When are you ever up to something good?"

And instead of protesting, I said "good point." Because that's the truth.


I still hate school. But I'm looking forward to content-area reading. My brother had to take that class and the teacher was one of the biggest liberals in the school. She believed in global warming and all that crap, and my brother didn't be a stranger and he protested against it, and usually proved her wrong. I'll bet the teacher will recognize the last name and remember me. I can't wait to prove the teacher wrong. HAHAHAHAH.

It was actually pretty funny. At the beginning of the summer, my brother went to this orchestra camp that his school offered for advanced orchestra kids. His orchestra teacher does NOT like him, because he's a boy and he's a good violinist. She's sexist against boys is what I'm saying. So she hates him. When we went to go to the concert at the end of camp, my parents started talking to the teacher and she kept giving me looks like "There's TWO of them?!?" And I had to laugh.

What will my reputation hold this year? Monday, August 30th will unveil the answer.

~Erin~

Storage and Sanity

I am torn....
TORN, I TELL YOU.

Since I want to have new friends over in my room, I want to reduce my doll room to...well, almost nothing. Just a few beds and beddings.

Well, that is not possible. Why, might you ask? My doll room is a HUGE, and I mean HUGE cupboard. It's taller then I am and there are NO doors on it. So I can't even shut the doors to hide it.

Besides, even if I put the doors back on it, I still have the horse stable, the dressing room I put together, and the closet, which is a rack completely filled with doll clothing.

I feel ashamed of myself because I've let my doll loving side take over my entire life. I don't want to be all dolls, which is what I am. I feel bad because I now have THIRTEEN dolls, when I don't even want that much, but my mom won't let me sell any.

I don't want a giant doll room! I want a small one, an easy one to put away when I don't want anyone to see it, not a giant closet that's impossible to miss! But I can't bear to tell my mom about how I feel, because she'll go all *dramatic* on me because we've spent SO much money on it. My dad said it's so heavy and big, we can't even move it to a different spot.

I have a few beds in my closet that I could use, but they would take a long time to build and put together.

Bed 1- A loft bed. It has a bed on top, and below it is a small space that is hard to see and get into. That space would be were I put my doll beds/room.
Bed 2- The other half of my bunk bed. I have the bottom part of a bunk bed, and the top part was taken apart. We would put the bunk back on top and put the doll room on top.

I have a good plan for my bedroom, but zero idea for my doll room.

Gahhh.

~Erin~

Haaaaapiest Birthday to Me

Sunday was my birthday. And I have good news. And lots of it.

Good News:

-My cousin did NOT show up! :D
-I'm getting Ruthie when I go to American Girl Place New York this Friday from my grandparents!
-I had so much fun!
-My brother gave me a $25 AG gift card!

I'm crazy busy. Packing my doll's clothes, cleaning my room, doing some stray chores, preparing my dolls for Ruthie's arrival. I will not be able to gurantee blogs from August 20th through August 25th. I will be in New York City during those days and I will have a horrible, horrible laptop with me. I MIGHT be able to, but I can't guarantee anything. All I can promise is a slide show of my pictures on my YouTube account, plus POSSIBLY a vLog.

So far, my list for NYC is:
-Elizabeth's Tea Lesson Gown
-Kit's School Skirt Set
-Julie's Calico Dress
-Lanie's Garden Outfit
-Lanie's Butterfly Outfit
-Pet Show Dress
-Safari Sundress
-Pretty and Plaid Dress
-Souvenier Clothes

If there aren't any cute souvenier clothes, I'm going to just get a shirt that says "American Girl Place New York" so that they have an NYC shirt.

Kay. Baiiii.

~Erin~

Rant of the Day: "Friends"

You know what bothers me? And by bothers me, I mean, DRIVES ME COMPLETELY INSANE?

How my online friends, who I've never ever met in my entire life, are kinder to me then my so-called real live friends.

For example, my birthday is coming up in about 2 days, and I've gotten more early-birthday comments on my YouTube channel then I have on my Facebook.

Let's see.....hmmmm....I've gotten about......I want to say....17 early birthday wishes on my Youtube channel?

And guess how many I've gotten on Facebook.

Z-E-R-O.

And there's no doubt in my mind that that number is going to stay the same on my actual birthday.

That just goes to show you how much my "friends" love me.

It's not just now. As I explained in my first blog post, sixth grade SUCKED @$$ for me. And it's all because of the stupid kids. I got decent grades, but I was pushed away and hated on and excluded because I was just being myself.

And those stupid psychologist people said that being yourself would make all the more better.

LIARS.

Picture this:

"Oh, and you can use partners on this assignment. Get started!" The teacher said.
Before you have time to look around the room to decide who you will partner with, everyone has already decided. Nobody even looks at you or considers you, and you are stuck working alone. Again.

Now imagine that happening to you every freakin' time you got to work in partners in class.

That is my school life.

Because nobody had the nerve to even talk to the edgy, weird hippie girl. The only words they spoke of me were hurtful, and usually behind my back. There wasn't a kid in my grade who didn't know my name, and most of them just knew me for being "that weird hippie girl."

Do you know how many times I wanted to completely destroy the popular girls who made fun of me?

Many times. And I knew I could. I could knock their Hollister-spoiled butts right on the floor with one hand tied behind my back.

I always try to update my statuses on Facebook. Day after day, no comments, no likes, and no posts written on my Wall. Yet, the girls and guys who hate me send me the friend invites, since I never send out my own invites.

Truthfully, I cannot WAIT to go back to school. I want to prove to all the hippie-hating losers out there that a five-foot tall "Alex's Little Sister" can be normal, because she can.

If I had it my way, I'd stay my hippie-ish self. I'd go back, decked in my hippie wear, as my normal Beatley self. My mom wants me to change since she claimed I would "be happier."

No. Just no.

Whoop, now it's 1 day to my birthday. Sorry, I'm a night owl xDDDD

And still no Facebook messages.

Gaaah. I hate my "friends".

Do any of you have trouble with people who are mean to you, yet they claim you to be your friend?

~Erin~

Discrimination

"Move over, sweetie."

"Can you move to the side a little? We're trying to take a picture."

"Excuse me, dear. We need this picture."

Those were some of the hurtful terms I heard at my cousins wedding. In fact, it wasn't as bad as I interpreted. The food was AMAZING. I can add pretzel chicken to my list of my favorite food.

The scenery was gorgeous.

Picture this:

They held the wedding in a building in front of this scenic area. Isn't it gorgeous? There was a whole field of peach trees and fields of fruit plants beyond those beautiful hills, plus a pond I dreamed of photographing at.

When we were taking bridal pictures afterward, I can't even recite how many times I, the official wedding photographer, was asked to move out of the way of somebody else's picture, or the amount of times when Jenny had to say to the people "Erin has first dibs, she's the OFFICIAL photographer." I almost wanted to hug her at that point.

It's just not fair. People are so absorbed in their adult careers that they just CAN'T picture an eleven year old with a semi-pro camera taking picture's for her older cousin's wedding. God only knows how many time people called poor Jenny "cheap" behind her back because she didn't want to pay for a professional photographer and settled for me. I had fun taking her pictures. I got to follow her down the aisle and take pictures of her as she walked. Her dress was beautiful.

I think she did a nice job planning the wedding. It was a beautiful building in front of a very pretty area. And when she through the bouquet, guess who caught it?

Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together, blogging to you live from Ohio,

ERIN!

Yup! I caught it! It was nice bouquet of white lillies. My grandma grinned furiously when I caught it.

Oh, and we couldn't leave her Samantha doll out of the celebration!

Yup. My grandma made her that dress. It was supposed to be a surprise, but her little stepsister spilled it before she was supposed to know. I felt like slapping her.

Overall, I liked being the photographer, but I hated being discriminated for being an eleven year old photographer. I felt like the people there didn't trust that I would do well with the pictures. Its not their wedding. Let Jenny do what she wants.

GOSH.

AAAAH!

~Erin~

The Wedding

Accckkkk.

The wedding is today. I'm not excited. I'll try to post a picture of me in my dress in a later post. It's 8 AM and I'm tired, sticky, hot, and my hair is in my waaay :(

I hate this.

~Erin~