Mi cabezita no se quiere concentrar

I have to study for a test. Instead I have been doing everything to not study. I am not an avid facebook user. Yet, I've been using facebook like crazy. Doesn't help that there's cute boys that should be talking to me. It doesn't. It doesn't help that I can't seem to focus. That I care a little but not too much. I should care more but I can't! Why, oh, why? I feel like Danny from Grease. I understand how he felt when Sandy left him in that drive in. Except not really he was a little too touchy. Still, I get him I guess. But I am not touching anybody though. I ain't. At least no girls. Girls gots cooties. I wonder if I ever believed that boys had cooties. Probably not. Cooties is such a dumb word, anyway! For real. God!

estas mal de la cabeza

disoriented and in a sweat i awoke
to look in the mirror and find silver, glittering rings around my eyes,
my heavy blush was smeared onto my pillow case;
his jeans were on my floor
as well as his t-shirt, dress shirt, belt, coat, and baseball cap;
adorned with my tights and bra.
no, it's not what you think.
last night the roles were reversed in a campus wide called entitled "Drag Ball."
the ladies went as dudes.
the men went as femmes.
as with any dance occasion the process of getting ready proved to be more enthralling than the actual dance itself.

so many things were wrong about that night, however, i can't even pin it down.
starting from friday night where i found myself in a bathtub, helping a guy friend shave his legs
(he decided that if he was going to a lady he'd go all out, of course)
then saturday night came, and i couldn't find anything to wear.
in distress i called upon my guy friend who offered his entire closet to me.
he issued me a disclaimer that most of his clothing was androgynous, if i was going for the macho man look.
in an attempt at modesty, i tried on the first outfit in his empty roommate's room
several outfits later i was undressing and redressing in his room as we conversed as we normally would.
now that i think about it, that was out of character for me.
is this the source of the strange feeling?
i want to say no, i'm just extremely comfortable around him
still it's something i usually wouldn't do.

next strange feeling i recall:
seeing my guy friend in my dress, in heels, in a bra.
doing his makeup made me realize what a beautiful face structure he has
somewhere in between painting his nails and applying mascara and eyeliner i found a new appreciation for him.
just wish that happened under different circumstances.
we took pictures as dates going off to dances usually do
my arm around his waist, his arm on my shoulder.
wait, now that i think about it, that's wrong too..

strangest feeling of them all:
leaving home with 4 people (2 females as males, 2 males as ladiez) whom i had seen gradually be transformed into the opposite sex and walking into a dance hall full of crossed dressed people.
i'd look at one person and think it was a girl i knew, but it was actually a boy i hadn't met.
or when a presumed man walked up to me and made conversation for a while before i realized that it was one of my girl friends.
and couples went as reversed couples, and they tried so hard to fit the other role
it made me very uncomfortable.
it felt surreal. in a sense of the word that i've never thought of before. definitely surreal.
the other girl i had gone with–who was now a dude–shared the feeling.
we decided to leave before an hour was up, because the disorienting feeling was just so uncomfortable.
it made us wonder what that says about us; why the feeling, only appearances and behaviors were reversed?
gawd, i also really hated it when other people complimented my date.
^ seeing that written out made me laugh, i sound like a jealous man.

i think it was the fact that i had seen my date and my two other friends slowly make the transition into the sex that made them being male/female, female/male much less disarming, darling, than it was walking into a room where i knew some people but they were already disguised thus making it difficult to discern who was who.

and so i awoke this morning, still in a state of slight discomfort and confusion.
i don't think i'm doing that again next year.
maybe i'll dress up because that was fun, but i won't go to the dance.
at the end of the night, though, my two guy friends made it a point to say how much they now appreciate all that women do to get ready.

got pink and black and blue

remember this song? i've been jammin' out to it all day and thinking about the way the guy says strawberries.

i propose a skype session sometime tomorrow? (friday)

<3

Here's to sharing!

http://www.nytimes.com/slideshow/2011/03/09/dining/20110309-MODERNIST.html

jdfnjdfl, idk

i just saw this and really liked it:

there are times when you'll realize people have taught you things you should have never learned

i can't lie

i wanted to respond to the hyperbole and a half link that you put up, but i didn't know what to say.

i didn't know how to write this in a comment response to the post without it being long.

i wanted to say thank you for sharing the site with me (slash/ our audience), but that i had already seen the site/knew about it.

i wanted to say that i liked that you liked the comics on there, but i'm just not as entertained by those specific comics.

i didn't know how to find a medium between telling you that i appreciate you putting it up, but it's just not my cup of tea.

and i guess i just found the way.

I once was in a school fight. I was, really. Yup, this girl who seems like she doesn't even know what a fist is.The girl who looks like she is 15, but is really 20.

Yup, me.

I was once in a school fight. Three against me. One dos tres vs. lil' ol' me. Except I wasn't little, but ya know. Anyway, I guess I should give a background on why the fight started. Well, this happened when I was 8 years old and still living in Colombia. We had to have P.E. classes at least twice a week. One of the times, it was just a normal P.E. class but then for the other weekly class, the school I was in decided it was smart to separate the girls and boys and make the girls P.E. class a dance class. We had no say in this, which is unfortunate because I would have NEVER picked dance class. I'm not a good dancer and I just never was, plus boys were better than girls. Anyway, on that fateful day, we were in dance class. All the girls in the grade. The school was a very small private school and these girls were the same girls I had started in day care. So, we were in dance class and we were on a break. I was talking to my group of friends, who weren't exactly popular, and the other group of girls (the popular ones) were talking on the other side. We were frenemies, me and them. The reason why is another completely different story. One of the popular girls, I think her name was Carolina (or something like that), decides that it was a good move to come and taunt us. So she did. She came over and started to taunt us. I have a very short,explosive temper but I didn't say anything. At first, at least. The other popular girls joined in. My friends at this point decide to run away but I guess I missed the memo because I was left behind. At this point, my beautiful temper is going to come out. In the midst of their dumb taunts, I respond with a very clever insult. Basically, a "fuck you" but in little kid terms. One of the girls decided that my insult was not going to roll with them, yo. So, then they latch onto my hair.

They start to pull, and bite and kick. Remember how I said my temper is explosive? Well, I started kicking and biting and pulling back. I grabbed hair and ears and faces. The teacher at this point is still God knows where. So, I keep on fighting the three girls. It was so fun. I'm not going to be a hypocrite and say it wasn't. Because it was. So fun. Not even kidding. While in the midst of basically me trying to rip off a girl's ear and the other two girl's hair, the teacher walks in. She breaks apart the fight and holds me back. I was not done with them. But she held me back.

The Carolina's girl ear is red as a tomato and the other two are screaming that they were going to need wigs now. I was just still angry. Angry because 1) I wasn't done with them and 2) MY scalp hurt too but you didn't hear me screaming about wigs and such. At this point, the teacher decides that it is ALL my fault. My bad self procured the fight and my baddddd self needed to be punished. Except, I guess she thought I didn't really need punishment so much as a psychologist. So that's what she did. She sent me to the school psychologist. Oh and the school called my parents. The school psychologist told me that beating other girls was bad and that I shouldn't be so angry and that blah blah blah. I really don't remember much but just sitting there thinking about the fight. And how proud I was of me for kicking their popular butts. And how I loved seeing that Carolina girl's red ear. And the other two holding their head. And how annoying the psychologist was being. My parents were actually proud of me too. OK, maybe not proud but relieved that they hadn't raised a coward. I think I got yelled at by my mom but not before she said, "you go girl". Come to think of it, it was actually not a bad experience at all :)

That's the story of my first (and hopefully last) fist fight.

I don't know

If you've checked the blog in the last couple of days (yesterday), you
probably noticed that I posted a link to another blog.
Well, I did.
If you hadn't noticed it.
Ive been reading it non stop because it is absolutely hilarious.
I really hope you enjoy it because it wouldn't be as good if you didn't.
This has made me think.
This blog has become my bitch.
Pardon the language.
I've lately used it to whine about this and about that.
That's not fun.
That's not good.
I have my um, *cough* diaries for that.
Oh God.
Yeah.
Well, it's true.
It's better than whining to friends.
They WILL get annoyed by it and then hate you.
So, yeah, I use my diaries to whine.
Yeah, it's good.
Yeah.
So, I will stop.
But now thinking about it, I mean, I don't know if I can stop.
Oh shit.
This post now became useless.
Ugh.
I'm disgusted.
By myself.
Also, I think I have to rethink this whole not using paragraphs thing.
I think I tolerate paragraphs now.
Hmmmmm, I think I will use them now.
Crazy.
Paragaphs rule!
I think.

I hope you like it

http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/