packing

dear diary,

i'm moving blogs. why? because i can :P

new blog

love,
yasmine

entry 15: n_n

dear diary,

he remembered.

love,
yasmine

entry 14: words

dear diary,

officially posted black hole last night. i don't know, but i still get that thrill when i post a new story. it's exciting. i had to rewrite that first prologue two times to get it right. i still don't think it's all that good. oh well.

dramaticstarlet is like my fanfiction idol. she's such a good author, very popular, and witty even when she doesn't try to be. (and i feel kind of like a creep writing about her :P) i want to be as successful as her. but hey, 229 reviews for a story is a good start, right?

of course, writing that chapter took a lot longer than usual because he keeps talking to me. i don't know what got into him. we NEVER talk but now he breaks any small pause in fear that i've left. he's clingy. but that's cute?

this is confusing man. i think i won't go online today just to see what he'll say tomorrow. i'm evil. i know.

love,
yasmine

entry 13: wishes

dear diary,

i made all-state! but see, here's my theory. you don't necessarily have to be the best at something, you just have to choose a something where there aren't a lot of people better than you. i don't think i'm any better than those who didn't make it. i just think there are less people better than me. see, it's all in the comparison.

and perhaps catching 11:11 on saturday had something to do with it?;)

our bathroom is still getting done. i haven't showered or brushed my teeth and i feel kind of disgusting. oh well. it's spring break. who tries?

i had an interesting dream though. there was a self-conscious stripper (i don't know), a new school with an elevator, a pool party, a weird confrontation, he found out i liked him, i reminded myself to tell peyton, then somehow another guy was exclaiming his love for me only i wasn't sure if it was for real or if i magically ended up in a play. all i know is i was kind of confused/sad to know it was only a dream.

yeah, maybe this crush thing has gone on too long. what of it?

love,
yasmine

entry 12: triangle

dear diary,

the whole arm around shoulder thing. the whole head on shoulder thing. the whole sitting by me thing. maybe it means something. or maybe i just think too much.

in the time since the last entry, some very crucial events happened.

1) i found out that other guy likes me. you know, that other guy who i've known since forever and who i laugh and am comfortable with because he's everyone's best friend. yeah, that one. now all i can think is what if i led him on?

2) the incident. in which boy number one and boy number two both walked me to class and it was the definition of awkward. but worse yet, i accidentally sent a text to the wrong person and now boy 2 knows i like boy 1 and that i know he likes me. confused? me too.

3) my friends like boy 2 better :(

oh, but i finished finding may! i got 220 reviews as of now and i'm really satisfied. sometimes, i just want to hide behind blueSKIES247.

love,
yasmine

entry 10: deep

dear diary,

1) he sat next to me on the bus.

2) he has an odd fascination of punching/poking people at all times. but mostly me (?)

3) we are able to have a conversation through reading lips, across 5 rows of seats.

4) he waited.

5) he sat next to me on the bus again. (but this time, he actually moved seats to sit by me.)

6) he's my male prostitute :)

7) is putting a his jacket over my head a sign of affection?

8) we're pretty cute.

9) i tried to get over him

10) "just so you know" by jesse mccartney came on. and i realized i was in way too deep now. either keep swimming or i'll drown.

love,
yasmine

p.s.- when we finally fall apart, i'll think of him whenever i look at that darn key on a keyboard.

entry 9: turns

dear diary,

why is it that we both desperately want to talk to each other but can't ever find anything to say?

it drives me bonkers.

but i've messaged him far too much. it's his turn to like me more.

love,
yasmine

p.s.- regionals tomorrow!

entry 8: high

dear diary,

i don't believe in doing something solely because you're not supposed to do it.

but others do. people drink and smoke and cut, not just for the affect, but for the thrill of danger. and that doesn't make sense to me.

there are people out there whose lives suck. and even though i'm against it, i guess there is nothing wrong if they turn to alcohol or drugs to give them that little ounce of joy because maybe that little piece is the only thing that holds them together. sure, it might kill them. but without it, they might die too. these are people with a reason.

if one day i ever hit rock bottom, perhaps my views will change. but see, my life doesn't suck. my life is pretty much awesome. i have friends and i have family. they're not perfect, but who is these days? although there are many more that i want, i could live with what i have right now. and that's why i'll never join in on the crack parties. i'm so happy and high on life naturally, i don't need to get any higher. i'm already in the skies. (not because i'm a sissy.)

i know people with fake smiles. i'm quite the opposite. i'm only have fake frowns. :)

love,
yasmine

entry 7: searching

dear diary,

you know how they say you'll always find what you're looking for? how if you think you can, you can; and if you think you can't, you're right?

same thing applies. if you think he's avoiding you, you'll notice all the times when he is absent, when he isn't there. but if you think he loves you back, you'll notice all the times when he is here, and even better, you'll see all the small moves he makes that could pass off as natural gestures, but in a positive light, you could bend and twist it just enough to make it seem like he was looking for you.

and i guess that's enough for me.

love,
yasmine

entry 6: mascara

dear diary,

sometimes, just for giggles, i step in the shower without taking my makeup off, and i let the water run down my face, staining my cheeks in streams of black. and when i get out, wipe the fog from the mirror, and gaze at my reflection, i look like i've been crying for hours. heart-wretchedly bawling. i look like a mess.

so i grab a tissue and start to clean my face and tell myself: "i don't ever want to look like that."

love,
yasmine

entry 5: knight

dear diary,

chivalry. what a lovely concept, don't you think?

and i know in a modern world of feminists fighting for equality, it seems like this has disappeared. but has it? and should it?

yes, i strongly believe that women should have the right to vote and enlist in the army and apply for jobs just like the men. but i also believe the whole "ladies first" thinking is the greatest idea. admit it. who doesn't like having the door held for them? and i also firmly believe that the guy should ask the girl out and the guy should make the first move. the same goes for giving her his jacket when she's cold, taking her hand to help her up (even if she can get up herself), and telling her she's beautiful because no, that's not implied.

it's not outdated thinking. it's chivalry.

so guys, don't think that just because she isn't asking you on a date, it means she doesn't like you. it means she's waiting for you to ask :)

love,
yasmine

entry 4: future

dear diary,

you know when you're a kid and you get asked "what do you want to be when you grow up?" and you say stuff like "firefighter" or "police" or "teacher" or "actress" or whatever? because when you're that age, it doesn't really matter what you answer. half the time, the person asking doesn't even care, he just wants to hear your cute voice. you aren't tied to a lifetime contract then, your answer could change every time you are asked. because that's what kids do. go through phases.

well, i'm not a kid anymore. and it's about time i excepted that.

when it comes to the topic of my future, i always tend to put that on the back burner; i put it off to someday. i'll worry about it later, you know? but guess what? it is later.

what do i want to be when i grow up? this time, i can't give some b.s. answer. this time it's for real because i'm almost already grown. i just realized today that i have 2 years left of high school and then i'm off to college and then it's life.

oh. my. god.

life comes at you fast. (nationwide is on your side! haha.) so, while i'm not certain yet, here are my considerations: english--since i love writing and words and the way they can make a difference, music--since i love making beautiful somethings out of nothing, or art--since i love that final 'voila!' moment when you've completed your masterpiece. but here's the catch...the only way to make it big in these fields is to be the best of the best. and that is very hard to be.

my claim to fame is my fanfic finding may on 50+ story alerts. that's really that so impressive. in journalism, screen writing, or novel writing, how can i enter the pool of all these amazing authors and expect to come out on top? then there's music. sure, my piano is 'good' but so is everyone else. 'good' doesn't cut it. 'superfreakingawesome' does. as for oboe...well...it's less competition and higher chances, but still, it's a long shot (just, you know, slightly shorter than the other shots.) and art, ho ho, i might as well kiss that goodbye right now. i'm not picasso material, i'll tell you that right now.

but those are what i love. do i follow my passion? or do i choose a job i can excel in? even if i hate it?

yeah, yeah, all the movies and inspirational quotes say follow your heart. but what if...i'm still in a phase right now? what if my heart is wrong?

love,
yasmine

entry 3: sleep

dear diary,

just ten minutes. i'll nap for just ten minutes.

forty-five minutes later...

(the sad part is that this is almost a daily occurrence. you'd think i'd learn by now.)

love,
yasmine

entry 2: dream

dear diary,

is it okay if i start in the middle of the story? because, i mean, as long as i know the beginning, then it's all good, right? besides, it would take forever to fill you in completely--i have 16 years to tell.

anyways, i had a dream last night. it was one of those dreams where you are so disappointed it was only a dream. he was in it. he's always in it. the one part that i remember clearly is as follows:

we're sitting in class or something. a woman walks by holding a baby in a car seat. the baby and dazzling blue eyes.

me: "aw! the baby has blue eyes! did i mention i want a baby with blue eyes?" (and this is funny because i have mentioned this. numerous times.)

him: "well, i'll make sure to give my genes to you then." (he also said something scientific about dominant and recessive genes, but since i don't know what it is, i can't dream it. it just came out in incoherent mumbles. and something about goggles.)

me: *giving him a questioning look* "because i'll have your child...?"

him: *alarmed* "oh! uh...no, that's not what i meant..."

me: *turning away and patting his arm* "i'm kidding."
but, see, i wasn't.

now, while this dream was sweet and cute, it was also kind of alarming. i've only known him for 6 months and i'm already dreaming of having his baby? maybe i just want him to dream about me having his baby. yeah. maybe that's it.

the point is, not a moment passes when he's not on my mind. that's what scares me.

love,
yasmine

p.s. i'm writing down the full story of my friends and my complicated love mess here.

entry 1: intro

dear diary,

it's funny how we stumble across things.

i was on youtube one day and saw spricket24's spotlight video. i clicked. i watched. i liked. i subscribed. i followed her on twitter. and then one day, she tweeted about pleasefindthis. so i clicked. i read. i liked. i followed.

and i feel kind of hypocritical reading things like that. it's all about being broken and lost when i am whole and found. (at least i think i am.) but the truth is, i love reading deep stuff like that. i love reading things that make me think, that make me feel, that make me connected to all the other readers because at one point or another, we were reading the same words just on different screens. i like that. i like that a lot.

i'm not trying to copy him (as if i was that talented) but i'm trying to take his advice. this is my life. i'm right in the middle of all the action. and someday, when i'm old and wrinkly and retired, i would want to look back and remember all of this.

this is too good to not record. even if i'm the only one reading it.

love,
yasmine