don't lie, you totally missed me. okay, so let's see.. where do i even begin?

let's just start off by saying that it snowed today. yeah, it was that cold. don't you hate getting ready and by the time you get to your car you realize, "shit, i should have taken my coat and mittens." it's terrible, but it's decemeber! that's what you're suppoused to be like. and god, don't you hate those dumb girls who believe that "less is more". come on now, i mean i know today's youth is unmotivated and obese, but we don't got to flaunt it. jesus. it's cold a shirt, wear one.

i'm still going out with punkin. for his birthday, i gave him a box of lucky charms with just the marshmallows because that's what he wanted. after seven boxes of lucky charms and washing my hands atleast thirteen times, i accomplished that goal. he's so priceless. infact, today, he's coming over after i have crew practice and we are taking a nap! yeah, he's great.

nachos have become part of my daily intake, i wish i was kidding. the smell of coffee is absolutely disgusting along with any type of coffee house pastry considering the café that i work at is starting to get so old. i've wasted so many afternoons and saturday mornings there. it's depressing, but we get by.

until i remember to write in this wonderful little piece of internet,

kaitlin

okay, so about punkin. on opening night of snakes on a plane—which was an incredible movie— we met eachother at the theater. he was slightly on the early side. and i knew a bunch of my friends were coming to see the same movie at the same time, so i didn't really think much of anything. we went in and he was friends with the guy selling tickets, so we got in for free. then, we were sitting on the benches and all of a sudden he pulls out a cupcake.

(alright. so, i have been known to say that the way to my heart was with cupcakes. honestly, cupcakes are awesome) alright, so he pulls out this cupcake and it has a piece of paper on top. so in my head i'm thinking, he definetly forget to remove his bandaid before he frosted this cupcake. oh, and fun fact: his hands were stained blue from the dye because he dyed the frosting. and seeing that i'm pretty much upfront about most things, i said "you forgot to take off your bandaid or something." so, he goes "no, i know it's there." so now, i'm curious. i open the cupcake which smelled delicious—and tasted so aswell—and unfolded the paper. now, you can't tell me this isn't adorable. the paper read:

"dear kaitlin, my sweet phillipino princess, will you be punkin's girlfriend? circle all that apply"

oh my. i contemplated circling them all, but i didn't. so i whipped out a pen and circled 'yes'. needless to say, we are a happy little couple who go into the city just to find adventures. we go troll hunting and talk to chocolate chips.

and, he lets me hold the remote control.

alright, so i don't know what punkin and i are, but i like it. even though, it does mean getting covered with bug bites and having a frog on my neck, i still would do it all over again. so, now that you're nothing-but-intrigued, i'll tell you what happened.

  last night at around seven, we decided we were going to meet at starbucks. we had talked on the phone beforehand and i learned that he had been having a bad week, so i decided to make him cookies. and because i hate being that loser who is there first, i arrived around seven-fifteen. he wasn't there. so i ordered my drink, venti caramel frappe, and waited for the poor man to make it. seriously, he was the only one working and a lady with a list of about every drink in the store came in. my heart goes out to him. anyways, so my back is turned and then, all of a sudden in walks punkin. freshly showered and everything. best part: he smelled like soap. none of that intoxicating axe or oldspice body spray, which if used in moderation is beautiful. however, i have a theory that straight men have no smell receptors. fastforward to an hour later and we are laying on this huge field and the stars are coming out slowly but surely. and it began to get really cold. well naturally, we nuzzle. nuzzle turns to kissing and that's what it stayed at. and i think life is better that way.

no, i'm not his girlfriend and i won't lie, i want to be. but still, it's refreshing to just kiss, lay, and talk about life. in this day and age, it really is all about drinking and sex. power to you if that's what gets you by, but last night was a definte refresher. but, ofcourse, i had to find something wrong with the night.

so, driving home i'm thinking, "damnit kaitlin, you were just a hook-up," which could very well be the truth. and that's where i am at this current moment.

i will be your dear old man and you will be my wife.

all i've learned from year to year, i've learned from sacrifice.

yes, i've learned from sacrifice.

and you will be my garden rose and you will be my wine.

the morning sun will make you grow, you're better over time.

oh dear mercy, leave me be.

i've got all i want right next to me.

and oh dear mercy, don't let me die.

i'm not that young anymore.

                                                           only, i lied. i am that young.

so, a little fun fact about myself: i've spoken french for about 5 years now. so for the rest of this blog, i dedicate to pouring my heart out in nothing but, french.

donc, mon vie est très interessant. je pense que j'adore une homme s'appelait "punkin". le premiere temps que je t'ai parlé, il me dit: "appelez-moi punkin parce que je n'aime pas les autures noms". mais, il est 'a total dick'. tu vois, il est allé dans China pour cinq semaines pendant cette vacation. la-bàs, il est baissé une autre femme s'appelait ashley kim. elle est mignonne, mais je ne sais pas. mon ami, nat, dit-moi qu'elle est très sketchy.

i don't feel like writing in french anymore, it gets tiring trying to think of all the tenses. anyways, if you didn't understand any of that it's okay, it's not that important. basically, it's all boy problems, but what isn't these days? let's suee what else went down, well i went to maine for a week. too nature-y. is that bad i don't like a lot of trees and mountains? i mean, god loves nature, hippies love nature, i love the comforts of my five-star hotel overlooking the nature. call me crazy, but i like having hairless armpits and dainty looking feet.

i totally forgot that i still had this. well, let's see what has gone down in the past few.

so, i still work at the café. i broke up with him. and i'm lusting after another. although, i don't think it's lusting if you really do like the person. he's sweet, but definetly not my type. i've just discovered that i have a mohawk fetish and it makes a man ten times hotter when they have a mohawk. i've come to shed the cheerleader/ditzy image and it is safe to say, i think people now believe i have a brain. george bush pisses me off, but what's new. i've had about three waterballoon fights, one in which i wore all red and walked into starbucks. life is hectic, but i love it. i've lost two really good friends by choice and gained a whole group by chance. i haven't shaved my legs in a while, but i've noticed no hair grows on them. i've gotten really into listening to the band stars. caramel frappes are a necessity. i go to bed late and i wake up early. birds, actually, are my alarm clock. i want a new car. the summer is going by too fast. my ability to sit still has shortened. and i think my dad is going on a downward spiral and the evidence lays across my face. i've become obessive over symmetry. i take naps. i'm going to maine for two weeks and then, off to rome the campus of my college. mexican food is an everyday part of my life. and i can't live without steak.

i flippin love swing music.

i should really learn how to keep up with this. i forget to. so, let's see... i smell sex and candy. not really, that's just what i'm listening to. like disco lemonade. it's freezing. people are telling me that it's 80 degrees and its beautiful wherever they live, and here the highest it has been is 60 degrees. today, it was around 59 degrees at its peak. exciting?

let them eat cake. i swear to god, marie-antoinette is one of my idols. and i'm not even joking. she had poise, grace, and the essence of snobiness that makes her something that i extremely idolize. a sense, that she was better. not, she might be better, but she was better. and that my friends is confidence and status at its best. i admired that. don't ask me why. not to mention, she was apparently a total babe.

i've deceided that i don't like emeril from the food network. i really don't. he's obnoxious and even though, he is from boston, his food looks gross. i have a particular liking towards paula from paula's southern home cooking. she's awesome. maybe, it's my inner southern-er. i'd like to be from the south. all the southern gentlemen and it never really snows, or not like it snows here. surrounded by the southern belles with the absolutely priceless accents. i want to be southern. but instead, i'm stuck with being from the north.

  i hate rachel ray. she's annoying and obnoxious as well. if her and emeril had kids, they'd be loud, plump, and extremely irritating. i totally dig unwrapped and top 5, but that's about it. i flipping love food. i would go to culinary school to become a pastry chef/baker, but that's not what my family wants. so, i will be a journalist. but anyone who knows me would say that major would suit me well. but i figure, 'hey, why not? it'll be easy for me,'. well, it's off to work. what a quaint little café where i stand for six hours talking to mostly senior citizens. they demand black coffee with cream and sugar. and i try so hard not to lash out on them. it's hard though. i'm going out to dinner tonight. i'm totally anticipating that. only, i'm not.

   after reading so much ernest hemingway ( i didn't like him at all ), i have now adapted to his writing style. framents. short sentences. i hate it. i wish i was literate once again.

^{have you ever wondered that one day, the sun will refuse to shine and the whole world will light up with artificial lights and with that, nature itself would completely vanish?}

Alright, so i'm stuck in my own home. that's right, stuck. say it, "Stuck". it's an odd five-letter word, but it works out. i've decided that i think i might actually keep up with this blog. not like anyone is that interested in hearing about me, but just because i need something to vent to. although, it's kind of awkward that people can read things about me and never speak to me. you know? well, anyways.

  so, i have this boyfriend. he's a good kid. i like him alot. he's my little bassist and everything about him is priceless. he makes me smile and he makes me cookies. he's so goofy and i love it. in reality, he is my complete and total opposite. tall and lanky, a black irish (he's white with black curly hair), and generally, into the whole scene of the 1970s and he digs ska.

  i hate ska. i do. to me, they all sound the same. i'm short, very short and far from lanky, my friends. i totally don't dig frisbee and the 1970s? i enjoy the company of the 1930s and 40s. i have no idea. but i love the kid to pieces.

  but you see, that's the problem. i don't really love him to pieces, well i do. just not in that way. i'm inlove with somebody else. he's just far away. it's complicated. honestly, what am i supposed to do? i'm not going to leave my puffin bunny muffin pie schnookem wookie for someone who lives three-hundred miles away. i just don't love him, that's all. as for my real lover, he's.. well, he's.. yeah. i don't know.

  he puts up with me. and he is always there. and its not like, i don't know. i guess you could call me alittle sketchy, but all girls are. and i don't care if any girl reads this and is like "what is she talking about. i'm not like that," because she is. we all are. we all have our messy faults that we try to cover up gracefully. guys are really the ones who are straight-foreward, it's either one way or another. girls, however, we're complex. that's what makes us so interesting. that is why we are who we are. and i'm not saying that girls dominate over guys, but think about it. guys are simplistic. girls are complicated. doesn't that make us so flippin cool?

  the funny thing is, i'm not planning on leaving my little puffin muffin bunnie schnookem pie tinkle anytime soon. not at all. and i'm aware of my feelings and everything, but i don't plan on doing anything about it. personally, if you ask me, i like the position i am in right now. even though that sounds a little bit sketchy, i do.

  damnit, i'm too complex for myself sometimes.

today was one of those days, that you feel everybody in the world absolutely hates you. the fact that people shun you and will look at you while they're talking. it's one of those days, and i hate it. now, i know everybody has these days, but jesus. like it can go from being so wonderful and normal to a week of pure, hardcore shit. on top of that my puffin muffin schnookem pie hunnie bingles is totally into smoking weed because of his friends. honestly, he can do anything he wants, it's just not appealing. you know? like i don't want him to touch me, come to my house, or even call me high. drunk, however, i don't mind. (i'm straightedge, if you weren't aware). and its not like i want him to be straightedge, it's just the fact that he sat on my floor with me while we were trying to watch braveheart and specifically told me that he doesn't see a point in drugs. like it's an entire waste of money. well, if it's a waste of money, why does he do it? because of his friends. and i'm not saying his friends are bad because they're my friends too. i dont know. everything is irritating me and this is the only way—besides yoga—that will comfort me. i hate my position in life right now, even though its miniscule compared to the life i lead. it sucks. and i'm not even using proper grammar which will probably annoy me later. but for now, i'm not happy.

      i feel like a sandwich. i'm not exactly happy and i'm not exactly sad. i'm just stuck. stuck between to slices of white, nasty, wonderbread. nonetheless, yeah. i have nothing. okay, so now i'm rambling. i want a cheesecake or something. anyways, i think i'm going to go lie down and then, go to yoga. find myself some friends, i don't know. oh look, the sky is not gray and it went from being sixty-four degrees to forty-five in less than an hour. i'm telling you, mother nature and me feel the same exact way.

it's april and it's flipping snowing out.

my dad bought me chinese food.

i think he's starting to love weed,

and that bothers me more than i let anyone know.

i'm tired of people

associating me with the color pink.

i never had a myspace.

chinese food is delicious.

the disney channel has gone to the shits.

it's so cold

and i have this constant feeling of sad.

i didn't go to yoga today

and all i did was sleep.

_{have you ever wanted to know what it's like to be an outsider looking at yourself? then, what are you supposed to do if you're a total dick?}

Rendered Selfless.

                                                                                    Happy M e d i u m .

                                 Strategically Placed.

                                                                       Drop _Dead Gorgeous.

         Absolutely Enthralled.

C r aZ y.

                                      Nothing Short of Lovely.

                                                                                     Simply Stunning.

                 Priceless.

                                                                              Million Dollar ^Smile.

                                                                                   Forever and Ever.

Sleep Talking (verb) : When one is in a half-state of REM and is subjected to talk. During this time, reserved concepts and ideas are revealed which are nothing short of the truth. Basically, sleep talking is almost the same as being drunk and revealing all personal thoughts.

i sleep talk too much.

_{have you ever wondered why it's fine to tell a smoker that he/she are killing themselves, but it's terrible to tell an obese person they're fat?}

I love You.

But,

I will not leave him.

_{Tell me what I'm doing}

_{because I have no clue.}

     So, I think I have perfected the concept of being totally unhappy in my own household. Now, it's one thing to be scared, which at times I am, but to be unhappy? Maybe, it's the constant droning of, "You're a liar" or "You're a fucking screw up" that does it for me, but I don't know. I suppose I deserve it because it wouldn't have been said without anything provoking it. Yeah, I may be mature enough to handle the situation and if it was anybody but my parents, then I'd casually just brush it aside. However, it is my parents, and it's been going on from years.

     Don't get me wrong, I absolutely adore my mother. She is what keeps me going somedays and I thank her for that. Yes, our personalities collide, but that's only because I am exactly like her. We think, we eat, we talk, and we live, in almost the same exact manner. From my birth until the age of four, I lived with just her. (By the way, I'm three-fourths asian and one-fourth hawaiian. And at the time of my birth, my dad lived in the Philippines with my older sister who was born to a different father. Initially, my mom moved to America because she wanted to something better for herself and her children. However, my dad was reluctant to move and thus, kept my mom visiting the Philippines frequently.) Until my dad moved here when I was four. He wasn't really a stranger to me because I would visit him atleast 10 times a year for weeks on end, so it wasn't anything new. Well, maybe except for the fact that I no longer slept in the same bed with my mom. Which, when you're four, is a very sad thought. So, he took my mom from me and he was soon to take my childhood from me.

     I will be straight foreword, my dad is a brute. Nothing short of abusive and he knows it as well. But, it's not like he hits my other sisters (I'm the middle child). His main enemy is me. I am everything that he is not, and I think that urks him way too much. Other than the fact that I am a child prodigy blessed with a large amount of beauty (this is where my fake cockyness appears), I've never done anything to him. Well, besides petty teenage lies that everyone expierences, nothing. And that never ceases to amaze me either.

     And here I am. Old enough and mature enough to feel the gravity of situations, but I still can't handle it. You can blame me for being a female and having sensitive emotions or you can say I'm just overdramatic, but the truth of the matter is, I haven't go the slightest clue why I'm still effected by words that are complete and total lies. I know what I am, and yet whenever my father throws a "You're a fucking liar" towards me, I lose sight of what I am. In that moment, who am I? But, I hate crying in front of people. And I hate people seeing me in my weakest hour, so I obviously ring my head downwards and leave.

     And the first person who crosses my path wouldn't even think to look twice. I don't want them to. I have pretty much convinced everyone around me that everything is just peachy for me. Nothing makes me upset, I wouldn't really ever yell at anyone, and I don't like hating people because I think there's already enough hate around. You know? So, I have. I have perfected the art of Sitting-and-Looking-Pretty while being absolutely broken inside. Because it is easier to smile fakely, then cry true tears and appear to be vunerable. So, as I write this with tears streaming down my cheeks and a lot more emotion that can't be conveyed in type, I smile to you, my reader.