Saturday, July 27, 2013
I've been trying to find this fucking song since high school!!! Everyone remembers Paper Planes, but I listened to this BEFORE Paper Planes and it was just on an old, scratched, sad mix CD in my red car Fiona...Then it vanished! I love the original, but I love this version of The Pixie's "Where is My Mind" more and I can't download it illegally soooo this is my only way to share it! The internet is pretty cool now. Not as rapey as before...
P.S. here's the link if the embedded dealy doesn't work out for you.....
Saturday, July 20, 2013
I was about 15 when mom realized that she could be herself with me. We became partners in a two-person acting troupe instead of rivals from different companies. She was never angry with me, and in fact seemed incredibly proud (albeit tired from silently worrying no doubt), when she told me what I was. She said I was wild and crazy and smart and loved to love. Loved too much and that people would not love me back the same. I was "too hot", too quick, too bright, too nice, too mean. I was a flickering flame. She was worried I was going to get put out. Extinguished.
I like to play with fire.
I like the heat.
I like the dancing flames.
I like the burns. I like the scars.
I love to play with fire.
I kind of like to get burned.
In fact, I think I crave it sometimes.
I get bigger, I get stronger, I get quicker, I get smarter.
their wooden houses and paper lives burning suddenly...smoking...
to hide behind the smoke screens,
and they usually cry as the fire engulfs everything they once thought they knew,
That's when she saw me there, dancing and laughing on piles of ash.
She had an idea about me when she saw me burning once or twice before...
She knew I was hers when she would see me laughing privately at the burns,
and then proudly showing off the scars.
She knew that when it all went up in a dazzling flash of blinding light,
I would be the one beside her with my jokes and ballerina slippers.
The two of us stood with whisps of smoke swirling in the wind, silently laughing at the beauty, sorrow and absurdity of the whole thing. And I was there.
I was burned. I have scars.
According to my mom:
I am Fire, red, Charmander, a spark, a bright hot light, an ember in the ashes, but mostly she told me that her youngest daughter is dangerous. Crazy. Too bright. Too hot. Too big to contain. Too focused. Too careless. Too red. Too blue. Too much like her with too much education, too much freedom, and too much power carelessly handed to her through responsibilities. She told me that she felt bad for those who will hate me, those who will love me too much, and most of all she felt terrible (she apologized in advance) to anyone that tries to stop me.
Her eyes gleamed mischievously as she picked strands of my hair at random to curl in her fingers and twist and scrunch. I giggled and wriggled around on her bed. She told me to stop messing up her OCD hair-twisting if I wanted her to keep doing it so I laid still. Her show was back on and I knew to wait patiently until the commercials before we could continue. I braided a different strand of my hair happily, smiling because this quiet time in the day when the sun was too bright and her room was dark and cool. This was the time of the day that we set aside years ago to sit around and shamelessly pat ourselves on the back and just praise each other and share pictures and gush about babies if neither of us had done anything fucking fantastic too recently. The commercials came back. She sighed. She she wished she got more time to spend with me before she had to go. I told her in short shallow breaths not to worry about me, that I would figure it out, that somehow I would make myself be okay. She said she knew that, she never worried about me, and then she repeated that wished she was given more time with me- more time to watch her favorite show. Me. More time to watch my life. More time to scrunch my hair while I showed her pictures of this country or that plane or this actor or that politician or this scientist and always some pictures of my cats doing funny things.
I'm here. Let's leave!
You're too late. Go home.
Can't they see the flames?!? Why are people such idiots?!?
MOVE BACK IDIOTS!!!
You warned them. There's even caution tape.
Mom warned you this would happen.
Poor babies. Pobrecitos. I'm just so sad that you didn't listen to me.
We gonna let it burn burn burn burn. Burn burn burn burn, We can light it up up up. So they can't put it out out out. We can light it up up up. So they can't put it out out out .When the lights turned down, they don't know what they heard Strike the match, play it loud, giving love to the world We'll be raising our hands, shining up to the sky Cause we got the fire, fire, fire, yeah we got the fire fire fire
Ellie Goulding has a very fitting, beautiful, new song! "Burn" is perfect for July in AZ!
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
I have learned to love my shit show life for now sometimes, but really?! This... sucks.
" Luna's Life Lesson #976": Don't follow your dreams. They don't mean jack shit without family or best friends. If you are homeless, penniless and so alone that skydiving, getting arrested, fires, and motorcycles sound mildly entertaining- take a pause. Whatever it takes for you reach your personal "nadir", a fancy sociology term for rock bottom, just try not to die please assholes and ask for help one more time. You will see that you had some incredible, unexpected humans to lift you back up when the floor dropped out. If there really aren't, talk to strangers. Talk to all of the strangers!!! That's what Europe was for me out of necessity at first, to be honest...and now I can't live like this, how I lived last year. I wish nothing ever changed because I would be so content right now...but I am a different person now thanks to the last year. I would trade any material crap for the chances to talk to strangers every day and visit everywhere there is to visit from here to the moon. When I'm in motion, I'm usually the most happy. I need a home base to return to though, and I am more in love with my busy sleepless, desert college town than I have ever been. Your heart can stop at any moment. Be happy as often as you can. It is a choice. Don't sit around waiting-Nothing is going to just happen. Be proactive and laugh and remember that ANY moment can be the last. Would you prefer to die happy or...?
Monday, July 15, 2013
You so fresh to death and sick as ca-cancer"
Snippet of an interview from 2011 with Lana del Rey (aka Lizzy Grant)..
This was right after HER video for her song "Video Games" went viral...
By Ernest Baker. October 7, 2011.
Baker: Anytime I talk to someone who’s facing backlash, it’s always “Whatever” or “Haters are going to hate."
Lana del Rey: I don’t feel that way. I’m not that cool.
I feel like I want to fucking kill myself. It’s miserable
Baker: What bothers you about the criticism?
Lana del Rey: I’m just not interested. Music is secondary to me. I wish I could go back to normal. I’m a really quiet person. I always have been. It’s hard when you see a lot of things written about you. It’s not what I had in mind.
Sunday, July 14, 2013
I LOVE how only AFTER the ER bill for over $5000 got to my parents house did he decide to believe me about anything ever and lend me the truck. Daddy dearest is not the worst person, but he was surrounded by the worst people and has let them convince him I'm crazy. I have always been on the insurance policy in the SAME way for the 3 cars yet I had to waste my "Moving to Europe money" on rental cars, U-Hauls, motels, hotels, and taxis because I was not "allowed" to drive the 2 cars sitting idly day after day, and I was not trusted to be given MY money for MY Prius, which I was forced by circumstances to sell immediately in June, even though I wanted to keep it until I was sure I was leaving....I say "Forced to sell" because no one would lend me a fucking hand when I got back and I couldn't do anything physical like standing or going outside. Doctors fucking orders.
No, too crazy.
So I sold my car so I could go right back and get a place of my own since I was unwanted at my legal residence at the time. Incidentally, I wanted to move out of that residence only because I was a bitch to the person I love and I could not stand to cause any more pain, more panic or anger by remaining, legally, there. It hurt too much. He is the ONLY person who had any right to be upset with me...and even so, I had every right to be upset with him too and I was. This is called a "fight" and I hear that it happens sometimes in a marriage. Five years without a real fight, I say we were due for a big one. Nope, people fighting? Too crazy. So I sold my car to move out...annnd.....where is the money?
I'm too crazy right now to receive my money.
Wtf. That was money MY MOTHER LEFT ME. I used most of it to trade in MY Honda so I could afford to buy MY PRIUS in cash so I could sell it when my husband and I decided to move, or to have an economic car. I still haven't seen the rest of the money for that since my dad gave me money once as a gift and now wants it back and kept it. Thankfully I am not an idiot and I also had a tiny bit of money stashed away, because I have BEEN SAVING from the insane amount of money I have earned all by myself in the last 4 years alone. Nearly $90,000 in scholarships and grants, NO LOANS BITCHES!
Oh, I just used a curse word? "CALM DOWN CRAZY!"
What I earn through acting- that's nobody's business. Let's just say the one time I worked with dogs was mostly for fun and not seriously a paycheck, BUT that was also the only time in 4 years that I told my agent not to send me on auditions that season because I was NOT OKAY for almost a year after my mom died...like not okay to act okay in front of...professionals and cameras and lights and microphones. Not even my husband knew how much I made or how often I worked. He doesn't like to talk about his job or earnings. I don't either. Hmmmm two people with similar views on everything, even finances? SHOCKING, crazy some might say, how they were so perfect and happy together. We are two busy young adults and I sometimes leave the house for an hour or two to run errands or see a friend, to go give rats cocaine at school for this scientific research paper, or I might go to the studio to record and guzzle down tons of free drinks while I get paid for saying some shit, you know, normal kid stuff. I fucking love my life, and my life before all this shit I'm convinced was TOO PERFECT so some bad shit had to happen, and that's okay.
Anyways, we never talked about work or had to worry about money or stressed about it like every other married couple does, especially my parents growing up. I knew we were the lucky ones. We both knew we could move away to something new and better, maybe Colorado, when I was done with school. It wasn't stressful, but suuuper exciting when we talked about moving away. The only time we ever discussed finances went something like this "So I will work full time to save right before the move" and "I will actually get one of this jobs people talk about to pay our daily expenses while we save". We WERE NOT rich by any means, at all, but we got to live pretty fucking great lives and both of us refuse to accept money from our parents. Financially independent and very, very proud of the fact. Both of us. When my family snooped and asked if he completely supports me financially, and I said "no", they reacted like this:
-OMFG HE'S SO CRAZY WHAT AN ASSHOLE GET RID OF HIM
Me- I have always been financially independent and want to keep it that way...I don't want to mix accounts either....
-OMFG YOU ARE TOO CRAZY TIME TO GET YOU SOME MENTAL HELP
My husband and I had it figured out. If we wanted something we just put in some extra hours at work and it was ours. We never bought something that we couldn't afford. That to me is the DEFINITION of wealth and the real "American dream". Haha we were such assholes, we are such assholes. Like really. I can't talk to people most of the time because I don't know how to not be an asshole long enough to alienate them, but that's because I had my asshole-other-half for 5 years to talk shit with about others and mostly to toot our own horns. Which, if you can't tell by this, we LOVE to do. I was LIVING the American Dream. Especially when we've got this lifestyle at 21 and 23 years old, respectively.
No, that's just too crazy we must be secretly miserable degenerates. That's what those relatives have thought for years.
Anyways, lots of people think I'm lying or exaggerating when I say I'm an actress. What? No.What else do I say? I...I make a living acting thanks to my acting agent and get tons of free time to experience other things. I'm...really an actress, you guys. Eligigble for membership in the Screen Actors Guild when I was 18. Now I am SAG and AFTRA eligible at 22.... THAT'S me bragging, but my momma isn't here to brag for me so I have to brag a little bit ^_^
But that's just so crazy
I don't talk about work to anyone who is not at work with me and I have had that rule for myself from the start. It wasn't weird of me to not mention work to my husband either, especially since most of the time he was at his own job or at school when I would go record a commercial really quick or whatever I did that day. The ONLY one I mentioned was my very first commercial in 2009, which I landed after my very first audition under representation by Leighton, and that HAPPENED to be a union (Screen Actors Guild) job, so not only did I gain entrance by invitation to the most exclusive union in the world, the most sought-after prize by many, on my very first try but I didn't even watch that commercial when it aired during the Fiesta Bowl on national television...I just know from the residuals that it continued to air for a while. I still have not seen it, and I don't want to. That's how I am.
My mom bragged too much about that one, so after Tostito's I only told her sometimes if I had an audition, usually not, and only told her sometimes if I landed a job. I do NOT tell anyone when I audition because I am too afraid to fail. I don't want anyone to ask me about it later and tell them "I didn't land it" or "I don't know" and then get questioned about it. Anyways, I only told my mom about gigs when it was a different type of job...say my first voice-over for tv, or radio, english, spanish, tv- local or regional or national....I told her my firsts so I could talk to her after about the new experience and that was it. The other relatives pissed all over my dancing, acting, performance talk since I was like 9 or 10-that is when I first started harassing my mom to let me audition for an agency...so she put me in dance...and those relatives? They have only negative comments about my first dance recital, very first performance ever, and all I heard all that night as an excited 10-year-old was how shitty I was and how fat I looked. I got yelled at for wasting everybody's time since my dance was AFTER intermission and they had to wait around...They never went to anything of mine ever again... When I get new headshots done they have nothing nice to say either, even the most recent ones... so fuck them. If they criticize my headshots to death and also still make fun of a dance concert I was in when I was 10 which was the first and only performance of mine any of them ever went to is it any wonder my mom told me to just keep the good stuff for myself so no one would rain on my parade every single time I had a parade. I was 14 the last time they heard anything about it and my mom didn't want to share this with them either because their negativity was appalling and off-putting. My first real headshots were when I was 15 and my mom and I told relatives that they were just professional pictures I had done to commemorate turning 15...lololol
So crazy! :)
Just a few days ago I was too crazyyyy, delusional, meth-ed out (this one made me LOL forever) or high off of my "prescription" allergy pills to be allowed to drive any car, even to go take care of healthcare, school, and work things hahahaha! Funny thing is that I was clean as a kite instead of high as a kite this whole time anticipating their batshit insanity. This might be the only time...ever...that I can confidently say my urine is as pure as a baby's. I was actually HOPING to get arrested to have another awesome story from the infamous Summer of 2013- and I was actually asking to be arrested and drug tested after the lies they told police to cover their own asses last week....the day before I escaped and moved in to my new place. I begged the officer to arrest me after I "had a psychotic break" and I had apparently been "awake for ten days" and "smoked meth with friends" causing me to go crazy and move a table outside at 5am. In response to such insane, delusional behavior one of them was clearly forced to "restrain" me so hard that my left thumb bone cracked and the clear imprint of all of his ten grubby fingers was painted on my arms and wrists in beautiful greens, browns, and plums.....but yeah, duh, of course I deserved it for being so crazy. That's what my sister told me the only time I was seen after. She saw me and made a beeline to me to chastise me for disrespect to other peoples furniture and how livid my mother would be with me. I showed her how I can't move my thumb where it meets my wrist and I showed her the beautiful perfect bruises that were already appearing.
That's what I get for being so crazy.
So I was glad for their tall tales in front of authorities and asked to be arrested instead of having to spend one more second where they could get to me, hurt me, make me feel impotent and 2 inches tall like when I was in middle school...The cop felt bad for me and gave me a ride to wherever I wanted to go, but he said he could not arrest me because I have not broken a single law, it would waste taxpayer money, and I have clean pee for once. IT IS A CURSE!!! I feel like clean pee is much rarer than gold here in Tempe, I should sell it while it lasts!!! OMG PEE FOR SALE!!! Florence and the Machine's "shake it out" just started playing at me, I think it's a sign that I should send her some of my pee....with a note that says "Your song inspired me to send you this. I love you so much please be my best friend or wife"...... This is why I don't let myself talk to people and have no friends hahaha the crazy is strong with this one.
In conclusion, if you ask any of the 4 relatives that fucked me over and over, stressed me more each day than I have ever felt before finals, constantly criticized and insulted me the past month and a half....They will gladly and loudly tell you all about how I'm delusional, hallucinating, everything I have ever said is a lie, I'm not going to school, never acted in anything, and I never had ANY money, and I need to be locked up in the looney bin for my own safety. The police could find nothing wrong to arrest me for though even when they looked for a fault. You want to know who else couldn't find a single thing wrong? ANY of the mental health professionals I've seen in the last 3 months. Going to therapy for a year+ has the benefit of maturity, self-awareness, and healthy coping skills! Who woulda thought?!?
So crazy, right?
So who are you going to believe then about my life since I came back from my "vacation"? 4 ultra-Catholic Mexicans who have never lived in the United States and have never experienced the culture we take for granted, or me and police and mental health professionals from both the U.S.A. and the E.U. ?
I've got nothing to hide. Get at me. I'm safe now. I probably should NOT press "publish" on this one, but what do I know?
Haven't you heard? I'm fucking crazy. :D
**edit for style points:
"I never said I was a role model"
Friday, July 12, 2013
I would like to believe that all people, but specifically that all young adults of my generation, know that the world is bigger than Facebook, that life is larger than themselves, that the relationship between any other individuals will never be understood by anyone else, and that our perceptions of people, events, distance, time, space, love- are just that- perceptions. Through my wanderings, travels, moments of bliss and the many moments of sheer terror, insanity, crippling sadness, and naive foolishness in the last several months, I learned something big- to stop trusting the people who ever blindly take my side AND to stop trusting and depending on people who will never admit and face their own mistakes. People who take sides or jump to conclusions are great when you're a little kid and lack confidence...Which I admit, I was. It's easy to just go with it, it keeps you from feeling alone and keeps you feeling like someone cares about you- but being alone does not mean you are lonely, and just because someone isn't constantly talking to you or siding with you does NOT mean they don't care. It's usually quite the opposite. There were many people who listened and offered support, and I thank every one of you. This is not about that though. There were a few, well quite a few but still in the minority, who tried to understand more than just one point of view, be it mine or anyone else's. They are the ones who tried to see the different points of view and talk through an issue instead of just agreeing or disagreeing with ANYONE. Life is not black and white, it's everything in between. It may seem like I "lost" a lot of friends, but they were never truly my friends if they did not show me the same respect as strangers showed when dealing with interwoven, impossible ideas and events. I did alienate myself from many people, and I did so purposefully. There is nothing to be gained from negativity except for a short-lived sense of smug superiority that will fade relatively quickly as life continues. I gained EVEN MORE real friends, reconnected with inspirational family and friends from the past, and bonded with strangers over their acts of generosity towards me and their respect for others, even those they do not know. This... love for life comes with a certain level of maturity and I am by NO MEANS there yet,but I definitely strive to be there and to be like these individuals by living with no regrets- which includes saying things out of anger, despair, fear, or saying things just to say things. I have had...a rough...time. Today was so difficult, physically(*moving alone) and emotionally(*sadness while moving alone haha) and my hope in humanity wavered. That made me more sad, so I said "fuck humanity, I'm going on a walk alone in my city with my music and loving it"- and I did! Next time I might choose to bring pepper spray or a knife as security, but I had a great walk and turned the day around at the end. I do not recommend my particular methods of cheering up if you're a female alone haha but you know. Make yourself proud of yourself. Love yourself so you can appreciate and LOVE other people for who they are, NOT who you want them to be and definitely NOT who you perceive them to be. If someone has only something negative or only something positive to say about someone- well, chances are they will speak that way about you too the second you do something they perceive as wrong even when it does not affect their daily lives in the slightest. Who cares what "they" think, what she thinks, what he thinks, or what I think?!? Who cares?!
Then...Who actually cares?
***Ninja edit*** I know you know this song, I do too, and LOVE this video! Just for funsies. <3
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
Here's a story I just made up! It's really silly, but I'm in a silly mood. This would totally never, ever happen IRL...to anyone...ever...because the real James Dean died a long time ago and Luna is just a character in a lot of my stories... ;)
She was sorta punk rock, he grew up on classic rock.
Luna hadn't seen James Dean in years. They were never formally introduced. Rumor has it he's a good boy that only goes for bad girls. Rumor has it she's a heartbreaking bitch. The moon was full, the hot June sun merely an excuse to stay up all night and have a kick-ass time in the bright desert Town that never sleeps.
"Who is the new girl?"
"I don't know."
"Is she a random?! "
"She made small talk earlier, she said her name's Luna. I think."
"Did she come with anyone? "
"I think she came alone. We might have gone to the same high school. She danced I think? idk. she kind of disappeared when she went off to college. She's in town for the first time since, visiting family. I think she lives in LA now or something. She's kind of a bitch."
"Hey, I noticed you guys staring at me, I'm Luna, enchantee. My friends were supposed to come with me but they bailed. "
::big smile:: Hi, I'm Regina, and this is Aaron-"
"Great, do you guys know that guy?"
"::confused:: ummm.. you mean James Dean....the host of the party?"
"Oh, I know his name. I meant...what's his story?"
"Uhmm well we have all known each other since high school...James is a fun dude, he's pretty funny, we're all assholes so please don't be easily offended uh-"
"All assholes, huh? I guarantee I'm the biggest bitch in the room-"
"Aaron, you forgot to say James is a musician!!! He's spectacular!"
"Oh really...So he plays music, huh?...What kind of music?"
"You just missed it, he was playing all of his songs for us! Maybe he'll play-"
::Cuts off Regina mid-sentence:: "Gotta run! ride's waiting! BYE!"
"What was that?!?" "What a psycho!"
"Aaron!!! Regina!!! Mere! Round two of SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS"
"Turn the camera on, and you're alive again!" Haha this was ACTUALLY one of the worst days of my life. Definitely in the Romi's Top 5 Worst Days Ever. Actually...it might be number 2, after May 22, 2012... I was BAWLING minutes before, and my roommate asked if I was okay and then she told me the best thing anyone has ever said when I'm really, truly crying that hard. She didn't pretend like she could cheer me up, or blatantly lie and tell me it was going to be okay like everyone else. oh no. Thank God she didn't, I would have bitten her head off. She said, "Romina, you look like a rockstar" "what?" "Yeah, with how the mascara is running down your face, you totally look like a rockstar". So I actually smiled, like a genuine, rare, Romi smile and ran to my room shouting Pink's "SO WHAT, I'M STILL A ROCKSTAR"
Then I re-did my makeup and I made this video, this is the only take. I posted it when I clearly shouldn't have been making these sorts of decisions for myself, but I am so proud of it because I know what a wreck I was minutes before ;)
I know I SUCK at singing, that's why I'm went into acting...I think all actors secretly want to sing but we have been repeatedly told we suck at it, so we pretend to like acting more.
and they were fun, fun, fun!
*Don't make me sad, don't make me cry. If love was enough this wouldn't have happened, right? Right.
Pictures are worth a thousand words, and Noah and the Whale captured my last 5 years quite accurately, and wayyyy better than I can depict with words. I'm working on an original version of that video."Come and take a walk on the wild side. Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain. You like your girls insane. Choose your last words. This is the last time... "
*Courtesy of Born to Die
Monday, July 8, 2013
I just wanted you to know
That, baby, you're the best
Like the stars miss the sun in the morning sky
Later's better than never
Even if you're gone I'm gonna drive, drive, drive
Nope! Nope! Nope! I will squash all the spiders in the world but there are certain songs that really remind me of what I lost. No. It reminds me of the only person that matters to me. It reminds me of what I think I maybe accidentally threw away, by being careless and rash about the only home I have ever known. Five years is longer than I ever lived in Mexico, with my sister and brother, aunts, cousins, uncles, grandparents. Five years is longer than any house I ever lived in...but I had my mom and no matter what house, state, country, motel room, or mansion she happened to be in, a phone call to her was a call to "home" on my cell phone. She was my comfort and my rock, but we were best friends. She told me all the time I am the only one in our family she never had to worry about. She taught me how to "play the part" anywhere and everywhere, because THAT is how you get anything in life. You act. You wear costumes, become the character you need to be, and then watch the doors swing wide open. We vacationed like millionaires when we were dirt poor and...I was the one waiting in the wings backstage for my momma to giggle, clap, and admire... Once I was a teenager, she was the one in the wings waiting for me. She was the only person I could never lie to...until I met him...
I was Vice President of Drama Club and worked my ass off for this talent show. I only didn't compete because it was against the rules as an officer, and I filled in my Spring Play time gap with intense dance rehearsals. I looked like utter shit for maybe the first time ever in high school, because I was back stage for once. I wasn't putting on a performance. No make up, theater shirt, jeans, and a pony tail. That's what I looked like the night I first saw him. My heart stopped. He was...perfect. He was so beyond out of my league that I didn't go join the group of giggling girls around him because I didn't need to embarrass myself in front of the only person I instantly knew will be someone important, someone famous, it was a magnetic draw to him. He doesn't know it because I never told him, but I was supposed to ONLY stay backstage of backstage- in the dressing room area. I was helping with something that I totally don't remember because I couldn't focus...because I wanted, no I needed, to be backstage to watch him. No one else was allowed backstage but I was using my Vice President power to get my way like my momma taught me. So...I watched him perform. I even turned my walkie off and I don't know, acted totally fucking insane over a guy I was too nervous to even say "hi" to. I got goosebumps, knew he was going to win by a landslide without seeing anyone else. Lights dimmed and I slithered out of there and back to my duties as quietly as I came in. How had I not met this boy before? Oh shit, he's THAT boy? The one I heard EVERY boy wants to be and every girl is so in love with? The guy I haven't stopped hearing about for the two months since the school had the open call auditions?!? Oh shit, what?! He composed the music AND wrote the beautiful lyrics?! Well shit, he won't be out of high school for two weeks before he gets signed and moves away forever. Shit shit shit fuck fuck fuck why didn't I curl my hair and put make up on LIKE EVERY DAY UNTIL NOW?! Damn it, well he's obviously going to win and I am presenting the trophies along with my bestie- the Drama Prez. So, sure enough, there are photos of that moment and I am amazed you can't tell the internal conflict in my mind. I tried to say congratulations to him after but...he was surrounded by mostly girls...I dipped out without even saying bye to my friends or the drama teacher or anyone. I messaged my best friend...we still have the message...to tell her that me and "James Dean" (code name) were going to be together some day. I wanted to say we would be married some day but thata) sounded way too creepy even for me and my best friend, and b) I really didn't think we were the sort who could marry each otherSo I said "I think me and James Dean are going to date one day. I don't know when. Maybe not until I am out of college, or maybe at ASU, and I don't even know if it will be in Arizona. But me and him are going to date one day, I just know it." She didn't even know who he was, we were SOOOO not on the social radar in high school. We were the freaks and geeks, and he was James fucking Dean. The rest is a funny history. He tried to talk to me a few times on Myspace and I was too cool to engage in conversation back. Until I posted a picture covered in nothing but CAUTION tape...and everyone said the same shit "beautiful" "amazing picture lolz"...but him? He was the only one that didn't lie. He said something like "would this be considered slutty?" He and I didn't even admit we were into each other until July...even though it was so obvious to us and everyone else. We talked/texted every day until 4 or 5 in the morning the summer of 2008. I stopped seeing any other boys because James Dean was paying attention to me. It was fascinating. He was fascinating. My life became my favorite story.I didn't know how to act that cool, I didn't have the script for this scenario and I would obsess over even the punctuation in my texts. ...I never pretended, never acted, and never told a lie. I was such a train wreck the year I was 16. I was a shit show in private, got too cool . I dropped my pink preppy act, wore stupid black nail polish, had stupid magenta hair underneath my dark brown, I had a stupid body that I HATED in dance because I had curves and wasn't all flat like the great dancers , and I had no filter in social situations and no one ever got my jokes because they were so nerdy, awkward or so mean that people thought I was a fuckface instead of getting my stupid sense of humor... Yet here he was...still talking to me after every embarrassing or awkward thing I said. Here he was with a guitar, beautiful eyes, long hair and for some reason, here he was. I thought I was so lucky to be invited to group hangouts and got to hear him play everything we requested. Until one day I looked around and I was the only one in the room with him, Surprised, I realized he never told a lie either. He serenaded me all day personally with his guitar, his lyrics, his beautiful voice...July 20, 2008 was the day I knew dreams come true, that was the day I was certain about my own acting skills, and that was they day I realized my mother was better than any actress in the movies. .. because that was the day James Dean asked me to be his girlfriend. I said yes. We hadn't kissed, so he took my hand and pulled it forward to kiss it all gentleman-like, but instead got me on the lips. ::Swoon:: I thought I had for sure blown it after he invited me to watch Tarantino movies at his house, and I said yes. We got through a few but I don't even remember. All I could concentrate on is how near he was to me. His arm moved. Did he mean to touch me? Did he mean to leave it there? Electric. He didn't fawn over me, he never used a normal word like beautiful or gorgeous or cute or sexy. No. He had original compliments that held so much weight and meaning. We dished dirt back and forth and it was the most fun I ever had. We were never a cliche. We were better than Johnny and June. We were R and A. The most unexpected, unlikely pair, and the best. We were the comparison people started to use to describe the love they sought. I had found my male counterpart. Every one of Them tried to warn me not to date him. They told me it was a mistake, that he was an asshole, that he would break my heart. Every time I heard that I would smile smugly and say "I know, that's why I fell for him".