I feel horrible. Physically. Every muscle in my body feels weak and tender and weird. I feel like I can barely hold my head up. I hope that I’m not sick. I hope I’m just working my body to hard. Ugh. I need tea.
Makes me feel so good. I’m not trying to reach a specific goal or weight. And I’m not trying to build any kind of muscle. I just love the feeling I get when I can play my Wii Fit without losing my breath. I like the feeling of getting up in the morning, and feeling great. I love looking healthy, and feeling it. And you know what? Why not put on a little muscle? Maybe people won’t call me scrawny. Or maybe people won’t ask me if I ever eat. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to wrestle Kenny without losing. ;)
So maybe working out isn’t such a bad idea. Just don’t tease me about it. Because I might beat you up. >:3
I used to love answering personal questions, and letting my life be an open book to everyone, but I don’t think I can do that anymore.
My seminar teacher keeps implying that my social life is getting in the way of my school work. I don’t think she can even honestly say that she knows what she’s talking about. I don’t talk in seminar. I don’t yell in the hallways. I don’t even look like a social kid. I understand that she is only doing her job getting on my case like that. And I understand that she has to assume most teenagers who don’t do their algebra homework just aren’t doing it because they’re too busy hanging out with their friends. But I can’t stand her accusing me when I told her that I’m not very social. She’s nice, most of the time. But I’m getting sick of it. She got very sassy with me today, and it was completely unnecessary.
Then there’s my mom talking to Mandy about my life. On Facebook. It’s not that I have a problem that they chat, or that they talk on the phone. It’s what they talk about. My mom knows that about 80% of the time that I’m not at home, I’m at Kenny’s. And that’s fine. But nobody even cares how I feel about it. And by ‘it’, I mean my mom talking about my personal problems with my boyfriends older sister. And it’s not like that’s all she is to me. She’s like my sister. She’s always been there for me when I needed to talk and everything. But you have to keep in mind that the things I used to talk to her about were things I selected myself for her to talk about. And that isn’t how my mom is. We used to be so close. I don’t see why she can’t just talk to me. Not have someone talk to me about it instead of her. She isn’t careful about what she says, either. And she’s making me look like a bad kid. I feel like Mandy’s opinion on me as a sweet, tiny little girl is changing. I don’t want it to change. Because that’s still who I am. But my mom is talking about stuff that I may or may not be comfortable with her talking about to her friends (Or mine, for that matter.) Stuff like my grades, my relationship with my dad and how it isn’t that great, and most obvious, Kenny and I’s relationship. It’s rude, and sneaky. I know that they are both only looking out for out best interest, but I would have really appreciated if one of them would have asked it that was okay, first. My grades aren’t awesome, but they don’t suck. I’m just lazy. My dad and I don’t get along. We try to be nice to each other, but at different times. Period. And I don’t think anyone could possibly understand Kenny and I’s relationship. It’s different. And I’m just a hormonal teenager, and I’m naive, and I don’t know what I’m talking about. I get it. And not a lot of “adults” would agree that I know what I’m talking about, but whatever. I’m not worried about it. I know what I’m feeling, and I’m happy. And he’s happy. We’re nothing to worry about. And I’ve assured my mom of that. So I don’t understand why anyone would want to jeopardize that. Or even second guess it.
I’m getting off topic.
Anyway, I’m sick of constantly being doubted. I’m sick of everyone getting into my business, and not only that, but telling what to think. Or what I should do. Or what I should know. I think I’m doing just wonderfully. I’ll do my homework. I’ll learn algebra. But know that I never stop trying to better myself as a person. And I’ll do whatever I want and whatever I can to get there. So worry about your own problems for now, and stop bothering me about mine.
And just about every one of them were about domestic violence. But not once did the female hit the male. It was all about stupid things, too. “WHY ARE YOU DRESSED LIKE A SLUT?” then he would throw her into something. So awesome.
MAYBE KENNY SHOULD START HITTING ME AND PUSHING ME INTO STUFF.
“Cute’s good. But cute only lasts for so long, and then it’s who are you as a person. That’s the advice I would give to women: Don’t look at the bankbook or the title. Look at the heart. Look at the soul. Look at how the guy treats his mother and what he says about women. How he acts with children he doesn’t know. And, more important, how does he treat you? When you’re dating a man, you should always feel good. You should never feel less than. You should never doubt yourself. You shouldn’t be in a relationship with somebody who doesn’t make you completely happy and make you feel whole. And if you’re in that relationship and you’re dating, then my advice is, don’t get married.”—Michelle Obama in Glamour.