Oh shit, I’m falling for him…
Ask me how I know already? Because he cancelled plans that we’d made as a group and I instantly began to sulk.
Sounds silly, I know, but I’m not much of a sulker and as you can tell from my previous posts, I only get upset when I really like someone…
Which brings me to another yummy boy but that is a story for a more sober, more focused version of me to tell…
Sigh, I should’ve seen this coming, but now it’s time to stop it before it gets worse…

That being said, everything else is going great, I’m making headway with my initial project and even bigger things coming my way =)
This time I really can’t tell at all until it’s finalized.. sorry L.A, that means you too…
Will try get that other story in soon, I’ve been swamped!
xx

Conversations with my 13 year old self

I found my old diary today, the one I had when I was 13, halfway through high school, and very opinionated. I had a punk phase that I’m not quite out of; I do have my random Avril Lavigne – esque days. At 13 I was kind of a rebel, as most kids that age are, and I was very against all types of conformity. I knew I was pretty, but wasn’t the typical girly kind of pretty that the world takes notice of. I was the reserved girl, undiscovered in my cocoon of rocker t – shirts, heavy eye – shadow, pants that were always one size too big, and of course, the classic studded accessories. I would become a butterfly in my own time, being a tomboy was fun; I never had to worry about chipping a nail, running out of my favorite kind of lip gloss, or having my hair out of place.
And then a strange thing happened; I became popular, without my realizing it.
I stuck to my rocker girl image but that too began to change. My rocker tees were replaced by slightly more form fitting, lower cut tops, my baggy jeans were substituted for better – fitting jeans that showed off my assets, the spiky accessories too disappeared into the back of my closet. I grew my nails out and although for years I stuck to black nail polish, I eventually discovered that other colors don’t look half bad.
Years later, I’m still one of the popular girls; my vans and chucks rarely ever see the light of day while my super cute sandals are all worn out, the jeans that aren’t super skinny are only ever worn on my fat days, and my rocker tees are folded neatly in my drawer for those chilly days when I don’t want to expose my chest. Which, in a tropical country straddling the equator, is not that often. I went from never wearing skirts or dresses to loving ones that are not very generous with material… I’m sure my mum regrets pushing me to dress more girly now!
I’m a conformist. The one thing I never wanted to be.
I realize that at 13 I hadn’t factored everything in, it was only normal to want to be more feminine as I grew older, and I can’t wear my Vans with everything, but I still feel like some sort of a sell – out. Musically, I’m a rocker till I die. Looking at me, you probably wouldn’t think so, save for the dark eye – liner that I don’t think I’m about to give up anytime soon. My style is definitely edgier than my more girly friends, but it’s still quite reminiscent of the stereotypical popular chicks in those trite high school movies.
I miss expressing my identity through my clothes, and not caring what people would think. Apparently to show up in public dressed as 13 year old me would be what one of my friends calls “social suicide”. And I've gotten used to a certain standard of living, sudden unpopularity wouldn't be good for my health (seriously, it's been proven, popular kids are healthier! lol!) So I’m thinking more of rocker – chique as opposed to rocker – chic. Who says I can’t have my cake and eat it too? 13 year old me would be so proud…

CHUCK LORRE VANITY CARDS,-#260, FASHION TRENDS

Dead is the new unambiguous. Bipolar is the new undecided. Heavily armed is the new born again. Bald is the new head… and the new crotch. Hairy is the new face. Sheepishly admitting to having an STD is the new flirting. Purell is the new face of fear. Finding the time that’s right for you is the new impotence. The smiley face emoticon is the new “sincerely yours”. Smoking is the new outdoorsy lifestyle. Looking forward to insanely expensive private schooling, thousand dollar a week nannies and soccer is the new yuppie birth control. Misinformed is the new patriotic. Veganism is the new “tastes like chicken”. Serotonin uptake inhibiting is the new crowd control. Texting is the new talking. Talking is the new singing. Singing is the new hubris. Gay marriage is the new “be careful what you wish for”. And finally, only because I (Chuck Lorre) really need this to catch on, fifty – seven years old is the new forty – five.