Rant of the Day- Popularity

WHAT THE HECK.
What. The. Heck.

I just got scolded on Facebook by a popular girl named Shelby, due to the fact that I answered a question on that game that you answer yes or no questions about people and they can automaticaly see the answer. On October 2nd, I was asked "Is Shelby [last name] a good athlete?" and I answered no, because all she does is cheerleading [naturally]. I checked today and she left me this comment on that post:

that really mean! Why are you being a bully!

I have several comments on that post.

Number one, when ending a sentence that asks a question, you would end with a question mark. The correct grammar would be "Why are you being a bully?!", and saying "that really mean" does not make sense. the correct format would be "That was really mean!" or "That is really mean!".

Secondly, in our school, we have been taught that the definition of a "bully" is a person who does actions to intentionally hurt someone repeatedly. I have never spoken to Shelby once in my middle school career. I know her from school, but since I have never spoken to her, I cannot be a bully to her. I don't talk to popular girls because I believe that I am better then to sink to their level of ignorance and because I haven't the faintest idea what I could say to someone popular that wouldn't result in them saying "SHUT UP, ERIN!"

Thirdly, another reason I chose that answer was because back in July, she answered a question on the game "21 Questions" and said yes to the question "Does Erin [last name] 'recycle' dirty underwear?" I am a firm believer in karma, so I felt that she needed that to come back to her. She's a real snot to EVERYONE, and I felt that this was my once chance to get back at her without commiting social suicide. So my response?

i was joking around ^_^ and i haven't done it more then once.

Her reply?

what ever!

MY reply?

-.-


Popular people are just....ugh to me. The ones at my school make me want to throw up on their Hollister flip-flops. They think they're all that and that they rule the un-cool kids. They've driven me to the point where I'm willing to smack any one of them that gets in my way >:(

For one, they make all the "un-cool" kids feel bad about themselves. I'll admit it, I have low self esteem, thanks to the popular kids. Not just the girls, but the guys, too. They can be more rude then the girls, at times. Whenever I attempt a conversation with a popular person, they usually give me a look that says "Kay. You're uncool, so don't talk to me, kay kay!" or say "OH MY GOD, Erin SHUT UP." There have been countless times that I've been laughed at and made fun of because of who I am. I was invited to one of the friendly popular people's birthday party last year, and hardly anyone talked to me except my friend Josh and a few other people. One thing I did notice was that none of the girls even looked my way. They all huddled in a group near the MP3 player that was playing our music. I was also busy beasting up the party center's Beatles Rock Band game.

And another thing, they hide all their cruel jokes with "Just kiddings" or "I was playing around." or something along those lines. If any of you read my doll, Bethie's, blog, you would know that Bethie is/was tormented at school by popular people. Guess what? Those stories are based off of REAL experiences of mine. The jerk, Sal, who steals away Bethie's heart, but tears it into tiny pieces on countless occasions? Real person, except without the part about Sal loving Bethie, because unfortunately that doesn't happen in Erin's life. The mean girls from Brick Stone Junior High School, Miranda, Kimmy, and Shelby? Real people who made my 6th grade year a living heck, except the name Shelby was changed because the name of the girl who really tormented me is the name of a close friend of mine on YouTube. I bet you can determine where the name-change came from. Bethie's former friend, Veronica? Real person, except I never lost her like Bethie did. Most of her experiences are based off of mine, except with fictional twists to make the story more interesting.

Back to the topic. On Facebook [why do these things always happen THERE?], there is this "rating game". I was rated by a person [popular, thankyouverymuch] a THREE. And when I commented "you would say that." He commented back "jk jk jk" and I said "suuuure" because I knew he wasn't "just kidding" with me. The way he treats me, a three is actually a good number. I'm sure three was the best he could come up with that wouldn't hurt my feelings, because the scale of one to five is not small enough for me.

Another ranting topic--looks. The populars are shallow as KIDDIE POOLS. If you don't straighten your hair every day, wear makeup that makes you look like a raccoon, or if half your closet isn't composed of Hollister, Abercrombie, or Aeropostale, congratulations, you're officially an outsider! And it's even worse for the guys. The girls do all the crazy shenanigans listed above, and the guys are attracted to THEM ONLY. The pretty girls with no personality. And of course, there are plenty of girls who's looks aren't bad on the outside, but they are amazingly funny and talented on the inside, but since everyone only sees the outside, they are casted adrift in the cold, dark sea that is the group of outsiders.

I'm never going to get asked out by anyone throughout my high school years, which is perfectly fine with me. I'd rather focus on studies and friends to get me into college, and I'll be a thriving photographer in New York City and they'll be selling milk to old ladies in a convenient store. And I'd love to see the day when someone I knew from my middle school years approaches me while I'm on duty. This is the conversation I'm dying to hear:

"Ummm....excuse me, do I know you from somewhere?" The person would say. "You look strangely familiar."
"Oh, hello. I'm Erin [last name]. Professional photographer." Then I'd hand them one of my buisness cards, and sweep a piece of my long blonde hair off my face.
"Oh my gosh! I knew an Erin [last name] in middle school! It's so nice to see you again!" Then they'd embrace me for a hug.
"Um, who are you?"
"Don'tcha remember? It's me, [insert name of ignorant popular person here]!"
"I thought I was 'the weird girl', you even called me that. Anyway, I have work to do, good-bye." Then I'd walk away, leaving them in a state of pure awe.

I would KILL to see the day that happens.

There are too many things to rant about popular people on, so I'm just gonna stop here.

Laterz.

~Erin~

That Sinking Feeling

My knees where shaking. My heart was pounding. I was thrilled, and terrified at the same time. I was terrilled.

I walked into the band room, clarinet in one arm, music folder in the other. I took my seat at the back row where I had been assigned and unfolded my name tag and popped it on the back of my stand.

The band director was assigning chairs today.

Oh, anybody who knows me knows I have a secret passion of becoming first chair clarinet in my school's band. I want to be the best, because that's the sort of messed-up person that I am.

"Alright everyone!" The director called when the bell rang. It was first period, and all the other sections were silent. "Let's get started on Windsor Overture."

I couldn't have been more let down. I wanted to know, and I wanted to know NOW.

After we rehearsed our songs, the band director brought everyone to a silence.

"Okay, everybody." He said. "Right now, we're going to change seats."

I shook with excitement. I gathered up my things and waited for him to announce the clarinets.

He called all of us clarinets down to the front of the classroom. I took a deep breath and walked down to the front.

He called in order of chairs.

"Hannah, Natalie, Aysha, Erin." He pointed to the four seats in the front row.

My heart sank to the bottom of my chest. FOURTH chair?!? This was a total rip-off! I did SO much better then Hannah did! But there was nothing I could do about it.

The other seat assignments were a blur to me. The tears brimmed in my eyes as I unloaded my folder and put my name tag on our new stand.

My heart was heavy as a rock as I played our songs. I slumped to my locker and I tried to avoid all eye-contact with my best friend, Gillian, who had earned the title of second chair flute, thank you very much.

"Erin, what's wrong?" Gillian asked me.
"Nothing, just leave me alone." I mumbled, and I headed to my locker as quick as my lead-like feet could carry me.

Sam and Jenna, who's lockers were right near mine, questioned my strange behavior, and so did my other friend, Jacie. Sam had chosen fine art over band, and she always wanted to know what was going on in band. I felt like she had disgraced me for her false-love of the clarinet, and so I hardly ever gave her a thorough description of what had happened. Somedays I had half a mind to say "You chose art over band, so why do you care?"

I walked home from the bus stop that day, and folded my hands and put my face in my palms. I wasn't in the mood to do my math homework.

That night, I told my mom about my band woes.

"Fourth chair? Out of how many clarinets?" She had asked me.
"Twelve." I responded.
"Erin, that's fabulous!" She said, overjoyed.
"No it's not!'' I replied, angrily. "It sucks! I wanted to be first and I got fourth! I HATE my position!" I wailed.
"If you want to be better, then you have to practice! You have to GET better!"

She told my dad later that night, and he said the same thing.

I wanted to be first. I want to be the BEST.

I can't help but envy that Hannah chick with all my heart. I loathe her like Galinda loathes Elphaba, like Harry loathes Draco, like Nathan Detroit loathes Big Jule. She's the teacher's pet in EVERY class. I hate her and I just want to stuff my fist up her nose. First chair Hannah my foot.

Hate, hate, HATE

~Erin~

Upside-Down-ed-Ness

Everything is.......changing.

And it's kind of...weird.

This weekend I went to visit my friend in New York state. I remember the last time I saw her. She was always hungry. She loved meat and she was silly about....everything.

And now she's vegan.
And now she's more serious.
And it SUCKS.

And another one of her friends came with us. I remember her being just like my New York friend.

And she's on a diet. A special one. [Not anything like Jenny Craig. I can't say what it is]

I feel like I was the left out one. They both go to rich kid schools and I go to some public school.. and they're both on diets and I really don't give a crap about what I eat as long as it tastes good.

And they're both older then me. The NY friend turned thirteen today and the other one turns 13 in February....and I'm barely 12. I feel so....small and insignificant and worthless when I'm around them.

And they're listening to rap sh*t and modern music and I'm listening to.........The Beatles.

And it's embarassing.

My best friend in the whole widestest world got her texting cut off and I haven't figured out why yet.
My 2 other friends are in volleyball. [and that's all they ever talk about]
The school jerk is being kinder to me.
I've got almost no classes with Josh.
My dolls have been in the same outfits since out L'Atelier de Sitara clothes arrived.


Gaahhhhh.


Screw change.

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~