...........

I'm not having a good day. If you couldn't already tell. And no, it's not because all my friends are out partying for new year's eve while I'm sitting updating my blog. Well, okay, it is because of that. But not the way you think.

You see, all my friends are partying. But here. At my house. And I'm locked in my room, updating my blog. 

Do I have any real, rational reason for this?

No.

It's not like my ex is here (because I don't have an ex) or because someone recently died and I'm sad or because my mortal enemy is outside my door. In fact, I like all of the people that are here currently. So ... why? 

That is the question. I guess my blogging is kind of trying to find the answer. 

I'm an introvert, first of all. Not a huge surprise, I'm sure, but it had to be said. I don't feel comfortable in large groups. I feel decidedly uncomfortable, in fact. Just the thought of leaving the quiet confines of my room to go and socialize with that many people fills me with dread.

I wish desperately that I could be a social butterfly, working the room, comfortable, laughing, smiling, talking and having people listening. But that's not who I am and if I ever am like that, it will never be me, just another facade. Another mask I can put on. 

One wonders what they must think of me. Do they think I'm sick? Sad? They must assume something's wrong. But that's probably better than them knowing the truth, which is that this is the way I am normally. That my own company is far more pleasurable for me than all of them. That being in that room is a version of my own personal hell. Because that would be really insulting. 

I wonder what it is inside us that makes one person revel in being with a large group of people and others of us recoil. Evolution? Perhaps at one time, seeking out large groups and/or getting people to enjoy your company was vital to survival, but over time certain mutation—like me—have occurred.

And it's also not like I can't be in social situations. I'm really sensitive when it comes to social situations and can generally read things quite well. I can be social. It's just so damn hard. And for what? I honestly don't give a crap whether most of those people like me or not. And the people who do care won't stop liking me because I don't spend an evening with them.

The only interesting variable is my mother, who doesn't like the idea of me becoming a hermit.

But the thing is, I'm not a hermit. I love spending time with people—as long as it's two or three at a time. More than that, and well, a) you don't get to know the real them and b) it's noisy and annoying and loud as hell and c) a contest to see who can talk and get people to listen to them. C) seems like it wouldn't be true when everyone already knows each other well, but it's always a freaking contest.

How do people enjoy that???

See, I don't even have to be in school to have drama in my life. I just create it myself, I guess. 

I need D. to be antisocial with, darn it! But of course she's not here. And probably when she gets here she'll want to socialize and have a great time and I'm getting bitter so I should just stop.

Hermitry (is that a word?) is beginning to sound more and more appealing.

Maybe I should just develop a crappy personality so I'd hate to be left alone in my own company. Or, more probable, I already have one but it's only obvious to everyone except me. 

I have to go, mom calls ... so tell me if any of you also suffer from the same condition.

~Angel

Holidays

Sorry for not updating ... but Merry Christmas to all my invisible blog readers! Have a wonderful season!

xoxoxo
Angel

Aftermath

I realize that aftermath sounds like a depressing title. And I'm not depressed. More, just super tired from staying up till 11:30 dancing. Yes, that means I had a good time at the banquet. 

It was a little awkward, coming parading into the dinner with all the boys waiting for us. But PC was sweet, and nice. No, the awkward part was the dancing bit. It was all fine until the first slowdance. It was all fine until PC asked me to dance during the first slowdance. I protested a little, but then I didn't want to hurt his feelings, so I said yes.

Hang on--you're probably thinking, "What? She actually is going out with this nice and funny guy who she actually wanted to go with and she doesn't even want to dance?"

Yes, well, I said I was confusing. I just didn't know about the whole physical contact thing. Not to mention the fact that I can't dance.

But I said yes. And, well, to be honest, all I can say is it was awkward. We never got too close, which was nice for me, but it was just odd to have a guy's hands on your waist and just swaying to the beat. I couldn't look him in the eyes very much ... and I feel bad about that.

I honestly don't know whether or not I like him 'like that'. And apparently, according to G., he doesn't know either. I don't know why, but I find this oddly comforting.

I have to go sleep so I'm not a zombie tomorrow.

Thanks for reading, you all. 

Stupid Life

If you couldn't already tell by the title, I'm having a bad day. 

The thing is, there are lots of reasons I could be having a good day.

Like, PC sat beside me on the bus ride yesterday and we talked for almost an hour and it was really great.

And I got a haircut and I feel pretty. Which is nice, for a change. 

But then there are the reasons why I don't feel great.

Like, my great grandma died two days ago and her funeral is tomorrow and I feel like I don't care enough. Or that I don't even really want to go to the banquet on Tuesday because I'm scared to death of dancing. Or the fact that I might have been talking about how I don't really want to the banquet anymore when PC walked by. Instead of dropping my voice or switching subjects, I just said: "Shoot, forget I said that." and I'm sure he heard me and probably hates me now. But maybe that's better than him liking me anyways.

Whatever. I'm just done today. I feel like having a good cry, which I haven't done since summer. Strange for a teenage girl, but then I am strange. Isn't this the whole point of this blog? To share the strangeness? But suddenly I don't even know what I am anymore.

Falling ... Into What?

I don't like liking people. I've said that already. But it's worth saying again. 

Sure, there's good things. But with my cynical perspective, they are far outweighed by the bad. It freaking sucks waiting for forever for a message and then spending hours trying to interpret the meaning from 3 sentences. It's not fun to be jealous when you spot your crush talking to any other girl. And the endless hours of wondering ... well, those are just the worst. 

Which is why I really, really don't want to fall for PC.

But I think I might be. 

And that freaking sucks. 

But what's worse?

I think he might actually like me too.

And that just makes it that much harder not to like him.

Not to mention the fact that we're going to banquet together.

And exchanging gifts.

And quite possibly slowdancing.

Why is it that something that seems so simple at one moment can suddenly become so complicated the next?

Help!

I know you all are probably tired of hearing about banquet drama ... but there is one thing I need your guys' help with! I have to get PC a gift ... so please either vote on the poll I have up (right sidebar) or comment with another suggestion! All your ideas are wonderful :)

Have a wonderful weekend,

Angel

On Boys

I always liked boys. I didn't have the common revulsion of the opposite gender most people go through at some point in my life. In fact, I got along rather well with boys when I was younger. Or so I thought. 

Before I hit puberty, boys were interesting because they were a novelty. They were different than me and my friends, and that made them mysterious. I wanted to find out more. I had multiple 'crushes' when I was younger that I was convinced were love. The innocence of children. 

After I hit puberty, well, my horomones were going crazy. I managed to make it through years 12 and 13 without really having a serious crush on anyone, for which I am eternally grateful. But it was when I hit fourteen that I realized I had a serious crush on one of my guyfriends, K. 

And after lots of subtle flirting, messages, and confusion, I finally decided that I had to ask him. Face-to-face. Whether he liked me or not. 

Now, after personally having been through it, I would not advise this method to anyone. However, I did it, and I guess you could say it worked, because turned out he did like me back.

You would think I would have been happy for days. But instead, after a brief moment of happiness, it changed to worry. What the heck was I supposed to do now? What was going to happen? We lived a fair distance away from each other, so it wasn't like we could date even if I was old enough for that. But I brushed all that worry aside and just enjoyed the moment. That is, until K. tried to initiate physical contact.

It wasn't anything huge. Just an arm around my shoulder to pull my close. But it freaked the *&%$ out of me. The minute he let go I bolted. And that evening, lying in bed staring at the ceiling, I couldn't seem to find any of the feelings that I had previously felt for him. Fast forward a week and I could see that my crush was officially over.

The only problem now was, what the heck did I tell K.? You can't tell someone: "I'm sorry, I really did like you for a while, but when you tried to touch me I was kind of grossed out and now I don't like you anymore,"

I eventually sent him a message over fb, telling him that I thought it would be better if we were just friends seeing as I couldn't be in a physical relationship right now. Mostly B.S. but better than hurting him horribly. Luckily the feelings about it were mutual. Or at least I thought they were.

A few weeks ago I was talking to K. again, who now has another girlfriend. It was nice to sort of clear the air about what had happened, but at the same time I had no idea how badly I'd hurt him. He told me he'd been mad for months afterwards and felt like I'd been leading him on. Needless to say I felt terrible. 

And experiencing this whole convoluted mess has made me extremely wary when entering any kind of a potentially romantic situation with a guy. I don't like liking people. I really don't. For me, it kind of sucks actually. So I really don't want to fall for PC. But what's worrying me even more now is the banquet. Or more specifically, the dance after the banquet.

If I was scared by physical contact before, who's to say it won't happen again? What if PC asks me to slowdance? What do I say? Apart from the fact that I'm a terrible dancer, there's the whole part about his hands on your waist and your hands around his neck. That's pretty physical. So of course I'm nervous. 

I need advice and/or encouragement, my lovely blog readers. I don't know what to do.