I Apologize for Outburst of Emotion

As per my random bouts of pity-parties, I always feel better in the morning. This case was no exception.

Sorry internet. I'll try to leave the "#selfie stands for #selfloathing" to myself. Or at least, not to you.

:)

Anywho, I was stuck in a rut of teenage-averagedom, which, now that I look back, was SO boring. I was becoming that one kid who only owns skinnies, a black hoodie, and sneakers. Which is great for sometimes! But, as usual, I took it too far. That same hoodie, those same shoes, and yes, for an entire two weeks, those same jeans.

And then, of course, W magazine saves me.

I am now slightly obsessed with fashionability. And, to be honest, I've never looked better.

Assisting in my addiction is this wonderful blog called Fated To Be Hated. (www.ftbh.blogspot.com)
This woman is literally amazing. Like, I can't stand it half the time, how amazing her outfits are. She's a correspondent for Teen Vogue, and plainly, a beast.

So yeah.

Um, sorry again, Internet.

i hope no one reads this.

lol

I Feel Ugly, So I Scrub and Primp

I skipped school today. The sheer amount of snow should have warranted a snow day, not to mention the below-freezing temperatures, or that fact that it had been snowing since 8:00 last night into 10:00 the next morning. Over 50 schools' days were canceled. But not our school! Rain or shine, hail or 7 inches of snow, 106 degrees or -10, we will have school! THE CHILDREN DESERVE TO LEARN.

Yeah right.

So no escuela pour mi. I'm glad I have a cool mom. Or at least, one who is too lazy to drive through the snow at 6:30 in the morning, and pick me up after my school's basketball game later that day.

I spent the day reading Les Miserables for a book report due in a week (I'm on page 300 out of 1200) and having a mini "spa day", DIY style.

Brown sugar scrub, an attempt at lightening my hair with a mixture of honey, olive oil, cinnamon, and water, multiple showers, etc. I had successfully ignored how ugly my acne makes me look, or the pouchy stomach  that accentuates my too-long torso, or how short my legs are, or my ever-growing waistband, or the fact that my thighs are not just touching, but getting into it full-on (every time I take a step, I feel like I'm intruding on them making love).

I successfully ignored all of these things that make sure that I will never model or act, unless I become a spokeswoman for Lane Bryant Junior or the teenage daughter of TV couple Mike and Molly.

I was so close.

Until.

I really looked into the mirror and realized something devastating.

My home made facials will NEVER make me prettier.

It won't really make my acne go away.

It won't reverse the fact that my skin and pimples are so oily, yet I flake every time I press a finger to my forehead.

It won't make my legs grow thinner or longer, like my beautiful friends, Brynne, Erin, Ellen, Alma, Mya.... Well pretty much all of my friends.

It won't make my hips shrink or my breasts enlarge.

It won't make any male become attracted to me what-so-ever.

And that realization forced me to reconcile with a fact that I had attempted to bury since I was 9, and got my first ever pimple, which, since then, has made sure that I have always had a minimum of 10 pimples, not including acne marks and blackheads.

Something that I tried not to notice when I was painfully aware that I hadn't had clear or smooth skin since the 4th grade.

That I...

was very, very

ugly.

peter

peter

why now

because it was

getting old

what about wendy

she left me

betrayed me

she loved you

maybe

she did

she must have

forgotten by now

everyone does

how can you be sure

only once

have i looked in

her window

and i saw

what

age

mother

wife

old

beautiful

disgusting

         you could have

         had her

you mean

they could have

caught me

made me into

a “man”

         but you could have had

         her

she could have

stayed with

me

         you wanted a

         mother

         not a lover

to me they are

the same

         perhaps she found

         someone to whom

         she was only one

she took my lostboys

         maybe they wanted

         to leave

         to grow up

never

         not her fault

she ruined

everything
         you ruined it

i don’t need them

         yes you do peter

no

         you had it

         in your hands

i never

wanted

her

anyways

         okay peter

Day 2... Surprisingly, I'm back.

Hello blog, I've come back to Blogger once more. I never usually hit up my blogs/tumblr for more than one night every six months. Feel lucky.

So, I'm up to chapter 4 on my writings. I'm telling you this for no reason, except that I am intensely bored. I should be doing my geometry homework, but... Ya know. #YOLO

So I'm researching laptops to get...

And as Jim/Tim famously says in The Office, I'm boring myself just talking about this.

Okay blog, let's get to know each other

Well, I made a blogger account in 5th grade and haven't used it since. Here I am, writing up a storm. (so proud of myself)

 Recently, I've started writing. It originated as a short story for English, but has kind of haunted my dreams ever since. So now, it's a book. However, most of that book exists only in my head, and its even more likely that parts of the story doesn't exist at all. I'm not sure if I'll post the actual story on this blog or just snippets of my work. Or maybe I'll just write about the creative process, detailing my experiences as a young author in an age where people have diminished the power of the expression of love into three short letters: "ily".

Either way, I'm gonna try to use this as much as I use Facebook.

So.

Hi blog, I'm Sopapilla and I think we'll be working VERY closely from now on. As in, you're on my lap while I watch TV and do homework.

Okay, well my dog is trying to do his business in my bathtub, so I'm gonna run.