Sunday, May 8, 2011

Prom vs. Anti-Prom

Prom: A gathering of juniors and seniors (very rarely underclassman)
It's an event where they can dance and enjoy the last month of high school.
It's an overly hyped up night for virgins, if you know what I mean.
Our Prom is in Hollywood this year at a club that was supposedly "shot up" a year or two ago. Having Prom in Hollywood is, to me, a little inconvenient because no one lives anywhere near LA.
The unpopular kids are nominated as Prom King and Queen and then are told that they were only nominated as a joke.

Anti-Prom: A gathering of seniors
They can eat a dinner and hang out
No one is pressured to have sex or get wasted
It would be conveniently placed at someone's house closer to the school
No one would have to deal with the humiliation of being made fun of

I dont know which to choose...
I was thinking of hosting a themed party at my house for my friends who can't go to Prom. I don't have any ideas for any good themes, though.

I'm hosting a dinner party next month and everyone who shows up has to act like a celebrity, character, or whomever they wish to be. I'll most likely be Martha Stewart just because... I don't have a good reason haha.

I want to thank you guys for commenting on my video project, I really appreciate it. We get to watch them in class tomorrow, so that'll be exciting.

I hope you all had a happy Mother's Day!

Monday, May 2, 2011

Video Project

My friends and I put this video together to try to explain the why the loss of innocence should be taught in school. 
The opening credits are my favorite, everything else doesn't seem to make much sense.

Shabop Shalom

Sunday, May 1, 2011

E. Hemingway

If you know me, I mean if you really know me, you’ll know that I spend a lot of time in front of mirrors. That isn’t because I’m getting ready or checking my outfit or anything important, I just stare at myself. I’m going to be honest, I think I’m pretty nice to look at…usually. So, naturally, I’m going to want to look at my reflection because I find myself attractive and I like to think it builds my character, but thats just me.
Anyway, I’ve been thinking of what my psychology teacher had mentioned about suicide some time ago. He said that women are less likely to inflict harm to their appearance because they want to look good in their coffins, whereas men are more willing to blow their heads off because they just want to get their lives over with.
Well, if you really know me, you would know that I take great care of my face. So if I were to ever commit suicide, I decided that I would go out like Hemingway: I would blow my skull off. If I were to end my life so tragically, then everyone would know that I wasn’t looking for an easy way out; They’d know that I had enough audacity to have taken a gun to my own head and to pull the trigger at my own will. Everyone would know that something awful had to have happened in my uneventful life for me to ruin the one quality that gave me the confidence to feel good about myself. I would hope that when they would see me in Hell, they wouldn’t recognize me for I’d only have half a brain.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011


I blacked out all my mirrors because I can’t stand to look at myself naked anymore. It isn’t because I’m insecure or anything. It’s because I can’t accept the person hidden beneath my clothing… I’m too sinister to comprehend with only the eyes, you see.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Spring Break

I'm on spring break this week which means wet t-shirt contests!
Just kidding, guys.

Anyhoo, I went to the Angels game last Friday and they lost. I didn't know that, though, until we were halfway to the car.

I've been thinking a lot about life and my friends and everyone else, lately. I haven't come to any conclusions, though, but I mean I guess that's good because conclusion means end or something and none of those things are coming to an end... At least not now.

I forgot to say that last Friday I told some girl to fuck herself. I only said that because she called my friend a bitch. I normally don't like using the F-word, but in that moment I felt it was necessary and Rylee thanked me for it. Although, I will admit, I was scared as hell that the girl who I said "Fuck you" to would turn around and walk over to me and start a fight. I thought to myself that if she did do that and wanted to get physical, I'd calmly explain to her that I would love to fight her but I can't because I'm a pacifist. I think she would've understood. But anyway, she didn't try fighting me, but now I'm scared that when I go back to school Monday she's going to start flipping me and my friends off in the hallways.

I read The Catcher in the Rye today! It's such a good book.
I'm in a really good mood, right now. I haven't really said much these past three days, so I'm really glad I can write to you cuties. Ha!

My friend was abducted by aliens. He said he woke up to a screeching noise and that his body was trembling and hurt a lot. I told everyone at school that he was probed up the ass! He didn't appreciated that too much.

This same friend of mine, the one who was probed by aliens, told me to make him my boyfriend on Facebook, to make if "Facebook official". I told him no because the way he said it was rude and made me like him a lot less. So I'm still a single lady :D Except now he's trying to drop hints of why I need him as a boyfriend. Geez, I don't know what to do.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Charlie Sheen

This is my Charlie Sheen impersonation.

Monday, March 28, 2011


Hey, you like music? Check these bands out:
Devendra Banhart
Pokey LaFarge
Dr. Dog
The Antlers

I have these friends, you see, we go out every Friday night and every Saturday morning. We have yet to tumble around and view what's underneath one another's blouses, but I hear that holding hands is better than sex. My friends, we get along just fine. I'm thinking of taking them out for a night on the that how the phrase goes? Oh well, whatever. But my friends,they'ree really great, I just them love them to death. I can't recall a time I laughed so hard to the point I start losing my smile and my eyes squint in an unfriendly manner. They understand, though, they know that it's only a facial expression and nothing more. I'm in love with my friends and I feel blissful when we sit together.

Out of all the flowers in the meadow, I chose you: the most fragrant.
I met someone a week or two ago. He's nice and European.

Sadies is this weekend and I'm going with Christie and Rylee as peas in a pod. The theme is Toy Story.

I'm trying to write this story about a male hooker who talks like Sylvester Stallone in Rocky Balboa.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011


So I need to work this video situation out. I have a movie maker program on my computer but it won't recognize all the videos I upload from my camera. Don't worry, though, I'll figure it out.

I made a tumblr and I'm sort of obsessed with it.

Well, I'll write more tomorrow. Adiós mis amigos!

Friday, March 18, 2011

Charlie Sheen

"I am on a drug. It's called Charlie Sheen." -Charlie Sheen

My friends and I are obsessed with quoting Charlie Sheen. I don't think we're really in to him as a person, we just like all the stuff that comes out of his mouth.

Also, that Friday song by Rebecca Black. This song is awful. If you haven't listened to this song or seen the music video, you really need to. It's worth making fun of.

I'm thinking of making a video. I don't know if I really want to, but I'm thinking about it.

"Boom, crush. Night, losers. Winning, duh."
Can you guess?
Yeah, Charlie Sheen.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011


This is what I do when I'm home alone.

I feel a little lame for posting these, but at least they aren't on Facebook.
The lighting isn't that great either, oh well.

Monday, March 14, 2011

Devendra Banhart- Brindo

This is probably the sexiest music video/advertisement I have ever seen.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Bad romance

I dated this guy, Alex, last November/December. I don't know why, but it really bothered me that he didn't like to go out and do anything with me. But one thing that really made me mad, though, was he asked me for money for his gas. After he offered to come see me and to drive around town looking for things to do. I could understand if I asked him to take me somewhere, but I didn't. So when he dropped me off at home and asked me for "a couple bucks", I turned, smiled, and handed him four dollars. That relationship ended quickly.

This dating scene sucks.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Acacia Park

These are my new friends, Rylee and Christie. We had a good day today eating yogurt, burritos, pizza bread, and lasagna. We also did something not very legal. But seriously, I owe Mr. Mac a thanks for our friendship. 


Tuesday, March 8, 2011


You have been leaving your leftover dinners on my front lawn for the past two weeks... I really don't appreciate that. I'm not sure if you're purposefully throwing your food out the window to be a menace or if you're just doing it as a romantic gesture. But whatever the reason may be, I am not amused. So just stop now and we can continue on being neighbors.

J. Brens

Thursday, March 3, 2011


I took Latin last year and I forgot most of everything I learned.
I really only took it because I wanted to build my vocabulary. The teacher was kind of weird too. He cut his own hair and wore the same pleated pants every few days with a musky colored polo shirt. He also had a weird slurring problem and he would slurp up his spit mid-sentence. I couldn't wait to get out of his class because it really bothered me. The only cool thing about him was he liked William Burroughs and he interviewed Allen Ginsberg once.

I always wonder about my teachers' sex lives Ms. Owens used to give me vague details of hers, which was really uncomfortable for me because she would show me pictures of the guys she'd go out with so I'd have a nice little visual. Oh god... Anyway, I especially wonder about my English teacher, Mr. Mason, because he doesn't really seem like a teacher to me. I just picture him as an ordinary man who stands in front of our classroom and talks about how incredibly good-looking he is. I think he moved me to the back of the room because he caught me staring at his you-know-where... I couldnt help it though. I wasn't really thinking anything sexual, it just happened that his crotch was level with my field of vision. So I would unintentionally stare and daydream. Regardless, he is my favorite teacher of all time. Hands down.

I've started about seven books this year and I haven't been able to finish any of them.
On the Road by Jack Kerouac
The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
Rebel: The Life and Legend of James Dean by James Spoto
The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde
Mein Kampf by Adolf Hitler
The Tracey Fragments by Maureen Medved
Naked Lunch by William Burroughs

Most of these books I've read once or twice before, but I like rereading books because it's different every time.

Monday, February 28, 2011

Sweet Lime

I made friends with a girl named Christie.
She's really nice and she doesn't do any drugs. I like that because Naomi liked to take drugs.
Anyway, we have a lot in common. She wants to major in journalism and I sort want to too. It's either that or become a really sexy business woman.

A teacher from my school wants to be my friend on facebook. He doesn't work there anymore but I think that's kind of weird considering I barely even knew him.

Mr. Mac, the assistant principal, said I'm his favorite student!
That made my day.

Today I raced an old asian couple and lost. It was pretty thrilling.

And gas prices went way up!
Almost four dollars for premium. What is this?
I decided that when it starts to warm up a bit I'm going to ride my bike to school...or try to. I think it'd be good excercise.

It annoys me when my teacher calls on people to read and they butcher the text. It especially annoys me when in the middle of a sentence they say, "Ah! I can't read..." and continue. Oh man, it's terrible.

So, peace out home dogs. Stay fly mamacita and let that sunshine tan your skin. And if you don't get sunshine, well just remember that every cloud has a silver lining.

I'm out.

Monday, February 21, 2011


She sits silently with her head down, mashing her potatoes and peas together. She's careful to not scrape her fork against the ceramic too loud... She wouldnt want to interrupt his chewing. He nudges her shin with a broken toe nail he tried biting off just before dinner. She looks up from her plate and forces her lips to form a weak a smile, then she slowly looks down at her plate again. His chewing has gotten louder, "You like the dinner I made you, honey bee? I made it just for you! My little honey bee."
"Yes, dad. Thank you," she said, still looking down. She hasn't swallowed one bit of food sitting on her plate- She's never trusted her father's cooking.
He gets up to take their plates to the kitchen, where he sits them down in the sink for her to wash. From the kitchen he goes into to the living room and starts sewing. She gets up to go to her room. "Where do you think you're going? Do the dishes."
Obediently, she walks to the kitchen and rinses their dinner off the silverware. She neatly places them in the dishwasher and walks towards her room.
She turns on a light and climbs up on to her bed. She just sits there staring out the window with nothing to think about.
"Marie, come over here and wipe my ass!" Her father yelled at her from the bathroom, the door open with the smell of shit making an exit in to the rest of the house. She just sits there on her bed staring out the window.
"Marie, goddamnit!"
She continues to sit there, staring out the window.
Her father gets up from the toilet. His ass drips diarrhea, "I told you to wipe my ass!"
She sits and still stares.
He walks toward her room. Diarrhea drips from his ass.
He opens her door. Diarrhea dripping.
He walks up to her bed where she's sitting. Diarrhea is dripping on her carpet, but she continues to stare out her window.
He hands her a wad of toilet paper, "Wipe me... Nice and clean."
Marie turns her head away from the window and meets her gaze with her father's naked body, "You do it."

Monday, February 14, 2011

Curly Locks

I cut my hair on Thursday.

I went from this:

To very short:

I like it. But I have yet to see it curly...which kind of scares me.

Saturday, February 12, 2011


I'm all vague and indirect to conceal my sanity. Question it, am I really insane? Or do I just lead you on to think so?
I keep all my emotions to myself because no one- myself, you, or your friends- want to hear of my sadness. I just shove it all down deep inside my throat and try my hardest to swallow it up.
I'm a terrible friend. All I like to do is talk about myself and listen to everyone who mentions my name.
I want to kiss every boy I meet. I'm curious as to what kind of lover everyone is. There's a lot of different types of love and a lot of different types of persons who can give it.
Ya know what I mean? Uh-huh, Uh-huh.

Friday, February 11, 2011


I wrote this last year for Valentines Day.

Open your mouth like the hippopotamus walking down the street swallowing every man he sees. Carry your arms like the monkey clinging to the tree on which he pees. Blow your nose, wipe your mouth, wash your hair because the date you dread most is coming. You prepare yourself for this time of year because you have a little person inside of you hoping for love or at least someone of some sort of significance to come your way. But when this day comes nearer and nearer, you soon start to realize that you are lonelier than you were last year. So you sit in your favorite chair and wonder about what you’re doing wrong and your mind wanders off into a jungle and you see hippos and monkeys eating and pissing on everyone you’ve hated in your life. This thought has comforted you because you know they deserve it.
​But wait…you’ve just remembered this isn’t you. Not me. You have someone you have loved for nearly half of your life. And this thought, again, comforts you. You don’t see your typical fields of daisies and moonlight when you think of this lover. You think of this lover tenderly moving their car into your driveway and parking it there for a good three days. Then you are left speechless at the sight of a black oil stain seeping into the cracks of the pavement…you’ll never get that out now.
​“I might have a girlfriend by tomorrow,” said the one with a ‘fro.
​“Did you lose a bet?”
​“No,” the one said, “I have been talking to her for a week and I think I’m going to ask her for her hand tomorrow.”
​“Oh. Congratulations.”
​“Very much thanks… don’t think you’ll be seeing much of me anymore. I’ve got a life of my own now. Good being friends with you.”
​The one with a ‘fro found a new heavenly love and with no sympathy the one decided to overwhelm this new miss with his undivided love. I wonder if that miss knows that her ‘fro is an architect of destruction. She must be masochistic because I’d never love a man who misuses his hands. I have never seen this miss but I will assume she fits in the ‘fro’s pocket…’fro is very controlling but has no control of where the hips go…that is (unfortunately) not for love making.
​“I’ll give you guys a thousand years.”
​“Don’t humor me with your unedifying innocence- I can never live that long.”
​This so called “day of love” hit my calendar and I reluctantly made love to my brother-incest. Its funny how this date came about, you see, there once was a saint (maybe even three) named Valentine. One day a man named Claudius decided to have them killed because they were married or something and married men can’t be tough. So before Valentine’s death he wrote to a lovely young lady and at the end of his letter he said “From your Valentine”. So I guess people admired his love-filled spirit and made a holiday out of it. How charming.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011


I'm crashing... I'm burning.
I'm spiraling out of control and suddenly I hit the floor. My body lies flat and I don't care to move my limbs. I stare up at the moon and wonder what happened to me. Why do I treat my body as if it were a public place?
I'm promiscuous. I'm a sleaze. I'm wide open...I open up for anyone who wants to come in.
I'm everything my feministic mothers would look down upon.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011


Naked, out in the open, I stand in the cold waiting for you to look back at me. My hands tremble from anxiety, my heart chokes on every breath I take because I can't seem to fall out of love with you. I think to myself, "Turn around, look at me. Just turn around and look at me." Then you pass by and I can see you watch me from the corner of your eye. I just stand there, cold and trembling, hoping you'd give me your full attention. But you don't. Instead you pick up pace and greet a girl with a pinch on her left breast and carry her books. Crying, now, I put my clothes back on and walk towards my car. I sit down and wonder about the way you looked at me. I put my key in the ignition and drive home.

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Santa Ana

Life on the Bang Bus.

Greg- Drums

Daniel- Bass/Vocals


Photo Credit: Fernando Garcia

Yesterday was the Santa Ana Art Walk. I went to check out the local art and to support a friend's band- Life on the Bang Bus. They have a unique style which any Indie/Punk/Rock lover can truly enjoy. I'd put them on my iPod if they had some recordings. But as of yet, they're just trying to get their name out there and they're doing a hell of a job doing it.

Saturday, January 29, 2011

Me duelo

If I were to see you right now, I just might have to kiss you. My lipsticked lips pushed against yours. What a lovely picture.
When I sit alone, I sometimes think about the hours we spent in your room staring at each other. You always looked at me funny and I would watch you seductively, except you never thought I was seductive. Only dumb. But you still liked me.
You mistook my intellect as innocent, and it was, and you liked it. You liked it because I was intrigued by everything you'd say. It's true, you intrigued me. I was in love with you then, I still am now. But you've moved on, obviously. And now my only connection with you is a few polite words shared only in text, always at night.
I miss us then. I want us to be then, now.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011


The night she died was when she was most beautiful. I would know because I was the one who killed her.

Sunday, January 23, 2011


Who had the 'stache first, Adolf Hitler or Charlie Chaplin?

Hitler was addicted to meth, cocaine, and all sorts of other drugs. Pretty interesting.

Congratulations, Mandy, this is your 100th post! You've done well.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Oh, oh, ohhh.

Hi there. I hope all is well. Good luck with birthing your new baby.
Love your little sister, Mandy.

Haha that's so awkward.

I really like words.
My favorites are:

I like talking to people I don't know online. I like the comfort of hiding behind my computer and just typing away. I try to be polite, of course. But it's cool because you learn about so many things! This blog has made me more open-minded. I usually forget that there's life outside of the city I live in, which makes me feel selfish sometimes.

I'm gonna be honest here, I'm kind of a loner. I have one friend whom I trust entirely and all my other "friends" are really just acquaintances. But don't go feeling bad for me because I kind of did this to myself. I actually prefer to be alone... I'm also socially awkward because I never know what to say to people so that's why I hardly talk. I just chat away in my head and then at the end of the day I let most of it out on this blog. So now you know why I usually change the subject so often.

One more thing, the way I write things is actually how I speak in person. I know a lot of people who speak differently on the computer than they would in person because they have more time to think of their words or whatever, but I find that to be annoying sometimes. I have a friend who speaks as if he were a modern Shakespeare...on Facebook. In person, though, he's just a normal guy who says "Brah, you saw her tits, right?" Yeah, Shakespeare would never say something like that. So the only time I'll actually try to sound all suave and seductive is when I'm writing a story or attempting a poem.
But yeah, just wanted to put that out there. :)

Monday, January 17, 2011


Mr. Mason,
I feel compelled to write this brilliant essay but I just have nothing to say. I can beat around the bush for as long as this essay needs to be, but I can't seem to get straight to the point. I don't understand how to recognize puns, metaphors, similies, or juxtapositioning in Shakespeare's convoluted language. I'm trying all my provided resources for assistance but I just seem to be stuck. Perhaps I'm just overthinking it because I want to impress you yet again...or maybe I just don't like Shakespeare. I apologize, I didn't mean to come off as rude.

I wrote this note to my teacher and I'm really scared to hear what he has to say about it. I hope he isn't offened.

Sunday, January 16, 2011


My friend and I went to a school dance last night. The theme was stoplight so you had to wear the color that represents your relationship status.
Green- single
Yellow- dating
Red- in a relationship
We arrived an hour late because we took forever getting ready. But, of course, on our way there she wants me to stop at the park by our school to pick "something" up. So we arrive at the park and this guy I recognize from school comes out from the shadows and hands her a tiny baggy. She hands him some money and tells me to leave. I asked if that was weed and she told me not to worry about it. Annoyed, I drive to school. As I'm pulling in to a parking a space, she looks over at me and says, "I took it!" I look over and asked her what is was. She proudly said, "Ecstasy."
I realized that this was all out of my control. I couldn't do anything about it. I couldn't believe she could be so stupid especially after I tell her not to try ecstasy at school.
I tried ignoring her and just tried to have fun, but that was impossible with her yelling in my ear, "I don't feel anything! This sucks...Let's go find Sean! I want to dance with someone...let's go over there!" After about twenty minutes of just walking around in circles and watching everyone dry hump each other, I decided I was leaving. I told Naomi that I was going and if she was going to be okay. She said yes and that she'd call me when she wanted me to pick her up. So I left.
I called Naomi when the dance ended and asked her if she wanted me to go get her. She replied, "Mandy, you left me! I don't want to talk to you. Bye." She then texted me saying she was going to pick up her car from my house later and that she was staying the night with one of her friends.
I hope she realizes that I'm done dealing with everything she puts me through.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

James Dean

I'm deeply and madly in love with James Dean.

Wednesday, January 12, 2011


I really don't like it when girls wear denim shorts in the winter. Even if it is seventy-something degrees out, it is still winter. -_-

My teacher proved how one equals two. I wasn't paying attention, though, because I was too busy writing about myself.
I only wrote down basic facts:
Mandy Enriquez
17 years old
5 feet 2 inches
Senior in high school
Orange County, California

The janitors at my school like me now, because I picked up trash in the quad.
I was only picking up the trash because the seagulls were trying to eat it.
I don't like when people litter.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011


Senior Ditch Day.
Notorious for being lame.

I think about seven seniors ditched class today. Most of them being stoners- shocker.

So I would've totally cut class...if I hadn't missed so many days from being sick. But Brady and I had our own fun during fourth period. We snuck off campus to watch Jersey Shore while we ate bagels and drank coffee. The ride back to school was way more eventful, though. I had a stare down with Austin's bus and that really pissed off this old man who was behind him. Then we cruised around the staff parking lot and waved "hi" to our friends who were eating hamburgers. I almost ran over London because he walked in front of my car to see what brand it was... I don't know why that was so important to him. But anyway, Brady and I finally parked and we walked on over to English as we sang that one song by Biggie Smalls, "I like it when you call me big papa!"

So that's me and the B-man, just walking to class. You know, the usual.

After school, today, I left a note on Naomi's car and after placing it underneath her windshield wiper I realized I wrote something really weird on the back of it. It said "I need you in a bad way. In a way that'll make your stomach cringe and your ass flutter. I want you to make me cry." And off to the side I drew a picture of Brady looking really tall and skinny with a bunch of freckles. I can only imagine her expression after seeing that. Haha how funny.

Monday, January 10, 2011


Apparently Californians are:
Good at making money
Born outside the U.S.
Bandwagon sports fans

Haha this is what people type into Bing!
How funny.

"Shalom, I'd like to apply for a loan." -Dwight Shrute; The Office

I was talking to my dad just now and he said that women should only pay 1 out of 80 times when going out with someone. Then he quickly added, "Unless you're an ugly girl. That's different. Ugly girls buy their own drinks, pretty girls don't."

Sunday, January 9, 2011


Dorian Galagy is a confused little girl. She isn't sure what she wants to do anymore because she has too many influences:
Her mother, who really only cares about money but can't seem to save it.
Her best (guy) friend, who cares about education and notices little details about people.
Her best (girl) friend, who is unsure of herself and is obstructive of all beautiful things around her.
A girl like Dory doesn't have to the heart to tell anyone what she really thinks because she doesn't want to offend them. She does what she is told and listens to everyone who speaks to her. Sadly, she let's most people's ideas shape the way she perceives things. She hasn't been too bothered by this realization until someone called her a sufferer. By this, they meant that Dory let's people control her future; she doesn't take initiative and do what she wants to do. But Dory finds it difficult to do what she wants because she's always trying to please everyone.

Saturday, January 8, 2011


I named my blog Trouble in Mind because I heard a song by Janis Joplin and that's what it was titled. I really liked it at the time I made this blog so I thought, "why not just name my blog that?"

Oh, and my name isn't really Mandy Thomas...anymore.
Mandy is my first name; it isn't short for Amanda.
Thomas used to be my middle name but then my mom changed it to Marie when she and my step-dad were changing my last name (my step-dad adopted me). I still prefer Mandy Thomas than Mandy Marie because a lot of girls I know have the middle name Marie.

This is how I sign my name at school:
M. Enriquez

Just like W.E.B. DuBois

Friday, January 7, 2011

Rambling On

People wouldn't like me if I was everywhere.
Hell, people don't even like that I'm no where.

If you want to be like me, you should probably start hanging out with me. You know, get to know me a little, come over to my house, borrow my clothes, use me for my lack of friends. Then stop calling me and tell everyone what I talked about with you, but switch my words around so I can look insecure and immature. Make me hate you and write about you in metaphors that'll make no sense to you, but all the passionate anger I have towards you will be definite. I mean, as long as you get what I'm talking about, that's all that matters.

The one thing I love about my high school:
I'm walking around with my iPad. Someone I don't know, but I've seen before, approaches me and says, "Hey, you have an iPad? Me too... What else do you have?"
I like not having to feel bad for bringing my electronics to school.

The one thing I hate about my high school:
"Youre in AP Psychology?"
"Yeah, it's really hard."
"No it's not. Try being in IB, tech, and ROP. Then you'll know hard."

When someone tells you about one of their friends that you don't know and they say, "youll either really like them or you'll hate them," I always want to prove them wrong by just kind of liking the person... Does that make sense? I hope so.

Here's a better a example:
Naomi: Oh my God, you're going to meet Brice tomorrow 'cause he's coming too. Everyone thinks he is so hot.
Mandy: Oh? Okay...
(After seeing Brice)
Mandy: I didn't think he was that cute. I expected him to be a lot cuter.
Naomi: Well, you need to see him in daylight and he wasn't talking very much so you couldn't see how nice he is.
Mandy: Maybe.

Yeah, I think that makes better sense.

Thursday, January 6, 2011


"It's like I'm in a room full of retards and there are no doors and the walls are made of windows and everyone is looking in and laughing at me and saying stuff like " lol that guy looks annoyed" and the only way out is suicide but I have no way of killing myself so I try holding my breathe to suffocate myself but I just pass out and I wake up in the room full of retards and repeat the whole process over again." -Brady.

Oh how I love you, my dearest friend.

Girls have the strangest faces, excluding me, though, because I'm beautiful and I have a perfect body. Every time I walk by, everyone just stares and wishes they could look like me. I have girls come up to me daily asking me what I do to look so pretty and I simply say, "nothing," and walk away.

Oh how I love myself for being a so-called "little pretty bitch!"

Wednesday, January 5, 2011


Why would someone key my fucking car?

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Wilted Sorrow

Three things that made me cry last night:

1. The thought of the world possibly ending in 2012

2. "I mean most girls are so dumb and all.  After you neck them for a while, you can really watch them losing their brains.  You take a girl when she really gets passionate, she just hasn't any brains." -The Catcher in the Rye

3. "I'm not there" by Bob Dylan

I started crying mostly because all of these things remind me of someone I once knew.
Especially The Cather in the Rye quote. That's something he would've said.

Oh well, I'm better now.
I'm going to buy The Catcher in the Rye today after school.
Then I'm going to eat sushi with Brady, my best friend.
Ah, all these days seem so uneventful.

Monday, January 3, 2011

Planet Earth

Is the world going to be okay?

Sunday, January 2, 2011


I'm going to write a book. I'm going to name it When the War Ends.
The first page will say:
Dear fellow Reader,
I'm proud that you choose to pick up my book. I came up with the idea of this writing when I was hot and fresh out of the shower at the mere age of 17. Enjoy.

Page 1.
Think of all the generations coming together and teaching each other their ideas, fads, lingo, and romance. Imagine how intriguing such a thing could be. A possible chance at understanding history through the eyes of a witness. All our elders, so experienced and wise, will inform their naïve children of the life we are about to encounter. All us children, innocent and rebellious, will explain our cynicisim toward society and express our emotional intellect in a misunderstood light. What a nice world it could be if we all attended a universal convention dedicated to agreement, understanding, and gratitude.

Page 2.
Always know your worth. Remember the person you see in your mirror and remember the person you aspire to be. Be attractive and kind, never come off as sinister. No one likes obnoxious girls who can't hold their own secrets. No one likes girls who blame their addiction on a tragedy. Don't be a girl who feens for unwanted attention.

Page 3.
Trouble is a biased noun. Trouble only follows those who are leaders of self pity. It'll never come to you if you are confident of your being. Be careful and alert, for trouble is blind and inconspicuous. Never turn your back to a setting sun.

Page 4.
When you discover the power of lust, you are no longer innocent. Hold on to your innocence for as long as you can. Pretend to be pure, virginal, composed, refined, and vulnerable. Be "that sweet girl". Pretend to be lovely and love only to be happy.

Page 5.
Never miss anyone who can't remember your name. Forget all the men you have ever once made love to. The users of your body, the ones you've invited inside, the ones who've felt your orgasm, the ones who made you sweat, moan, thrust, kiss, beg... These men are nothing more than dogs. Men love physically; women love emotionally. The most important phrase of love isn't the cliché "I love you", it's saying "Goodbye".

Page 6.
Vulnerability shouldn't have to be taboo. To be a strong person is accepting and expressing every emotion you feel while keeping your composure. Don't come off as hard-headed because it's very unbecoming of a human to conceal all their insecurities.

Page 7.
Be mysterious. Don't talk too much. A good communicator knows show to speak with their eyes. Express thoughts only through your body. Learn how to become intimate with something intangible.

Page 8.
Surround yourself with people you can learn from. Never make your own mistakes when someone else can do it for you. Aspire to be better than your colleagues because the person you are isn't the person they want to see. Speak to ignorance slowly, lovingly. Ignorance is patient and should spoken to with respect. Intellectuals are too prideful and shouldnt be allowed to expand with arrogance. Their minds become too large and excrete an overwhelming smell of theories, hypotheses, and conspiracies.

Page 9.
View everything as if it were a circle. Circles are round and endless, soft, charming, and irrational. The only shape that can roll itself over into a new light.

Page 10.
Don't believe in love, don't fall in love. Love is only a theory that desperate housewives came up with because they yearn for their husbands to come home and kiss them gently. Love is never expressed by men. To men love doesn't exist; women believe that love is universal, love is blind and powerful, that love can change their husbands' idea of good sex.

Page 11.
Everything is always better tomorrow. Don't contemplate or commit suicide because someone needs you. Everyone has purpose.

Page 12.
Beauty is a privilege.