The Secret Life of Tessa

23rd October 2010

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Late night thoughts

Long time no post.

Been busy, mid-terms and what not

Cassie and Ben have FINALLY set a date. Valentines day. Casey’s been on edge for that. I mean, she LOVES Cassie but, I guess its how a kid feels when their parents remarry and the new spouse moves in, she doesn’t know what to think of it.

In other news, Becca just got out of the hospital. Something happen at Harvard, and so she’s transfering home to Portland State. 

Mere was at Washington state, for like two weeks but he’s been at PCC with us.

oh, and Baby Pammi is better now.

And My litttle brother is not acting out anymore yeahh!!

Well gotta go do homework, more later!

9th October 2010

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Othernews

Luckly, they were manage to work out their problems. however Casey won’t be able to start until Janurary (part of the deal she made with Ben) 

So now, she’s working the smootie center at my aunt’s deli.

8.67 a hour. funnn

Also My mommie is a lot better. she got her brain tumor removed. 

BAD NEWS: My little 10th grader of a brother is living with me. :(

GOOD NEWS: Who’s his English teacher, Mr B (ben!) of course!

BAD: Ben hates him

GOOD: Little brother Nemo (i call him that to annoy him) LOVES BEN

9th October 2010

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Update

Okay, don’t be alarmed. My absentee posts is not because I’ve forgotten. I’ve kinda been dealing with personal crisis

-Casey and Ben had this horrible fight. To think, two weeks ago, Both of them are acting like father/daughter. The next, she’s trying to pack to run off to marry a guy who thinks Lady Gaga is going to run for president in 2012 (it could happen) and just got his G.E.D in the mail “Duuude! I totally forgot they were suppose to send this to me last fall!”

It all happen after Casey dropped out of PCC. Why? She didn’t belong. She felt out of place (normal for her) but also when her advisor told her that they wouldn’t fire the math teacher for trying to ‘attack’ her (its best to leave it there. to actually say what happen, that would leave a lot of people going whhha?”) 

Of course, Ben just wanted her to drop the course, not out of college. She didn’t tell him for a week. She went ‘hunting’, caught up with Heroes (and all the seasons of law and order. all 20 of them. don’t ask how she did it) and drove to Portland and applied for jobs/universities.

Then Ben decides to check the mail. BOOM! FULL SCHOLARSHIP TO UNIVERSITY OF PORTLAND. 

Crap went up.

9th October 2010

Post reblogged from Moral Fiber Tastes Like Chicken.

:::Better then I knew:::My Childhood:::

samanthadear:

When I was young, 

Me and my friends would listen to Spice Girls, just to make our parents angry. 

I was always forced to be baby spice,

But its whatever, I’m not bitter. 

We used to roll our t-shirts sporting patriotic puppy dogs  up to an inch above our belly buttons and do a series of what we presumed were ultra sexy dance moves, Wihch in reality probably looked like the attempts of a quadriplegic trying to escape a patato sack, to the sound of Brittany being a saaalllaavveeeeee for you. 

I had one friend who was allowed to read magazines, One friend with a magazine subscription. I was never allowed to read any magazines or any other contraband literary filth. My WWJD bracelet also came with a matching WWAFR (What would Anne Frank Read?) and and WWCSLS? (What would C.S. Lewis say?) 

I always figured it was because my parents were still married, and hers were divorced and the were now more concerned with her growing anger issues then her taking quizlets in magazines to figure out which teen idol she should go out with.

Or worse,

Horoscopes.

Horoscopes may have been what I considered, my parents deepest level of concern for me .I used to Beg my friend who was apparently 98% compatible to Aaron Carter (Oh, but weren’t we all?) if I could spend the night just so I could listen to her trashy preteeny bop music and read Equally trashy preteeny magazines.

Sleepovers with friends often involved painting our nails in awkward pastels and playing MASH at a whisper as this was surely the most prohibited form of our unbridled preeteen provocativeness. I used to love that game so much… The idea of being able to predict not only your husband, but also your income bracket, and depending on which version you played, either the type of car you would have or the number of children you and said husband would have.

Funny, the guy I was supposed to marry and have 15 children with wouldnt even be worth fixing my hair for now. Probably a good thing. I can’t imagine living in a shack with 15 kids and a BMW.

I grew up convinced that the worst thing I could do with my life was listen to pop music and stay up late on the phone on school nights. This is also the period where I ate sugar cereal and the smell of it didn’t nauseate me like it does now…of course, this was also beck when i got up when breakfast wasn’t also called lunch by most people. 

Back when i didn’t know anyone my age who was pregnant or married, or had even kissed a boy. I knew one girl who had held hands with a boy at a water park once, and we all treated her like the scum of the earth she surely was. Obviously. 

I remember Hide&go seek partner was always a guy, because they giggled less and I hated getting caught. Surprisingly, My parents biggest concern about that was the random bruises I would end up with from being crouched in strange positions, being pushed around while he fled the scene, or having large objects stacked on top of me to conceal myself, for prolonged periods of time. 

None of us actually counted to 100, or even 50. But we normally just paused and mumbled under our breath for a few minutes. And partner or not, you fled for yourself from the Gespeo, and no one held hard feelings. 

We prayed and dreamed of the days when life would get better, or “funner.” When we were old enough to drive, and rock out and date and buy our own make-up. The best days of our lives were still to come….

But the truth is, Those were the best days, because, at the end of the day, you best friend always forgave you, Nick Stevenson would chicken out of giving you his love letter for the 3rd time, (He would finally man-up in 8th grade though, and you would agree to theoretically marry him one day, and then in the mean time become best friends to the present day…Hi Nick. Aren’t you glad I changed you name? tehehe.. <3) and college admissions, birth control, credit scores and other subjects not covered by the Disney channel (at the time anyway…) were all subjects for people on wall-street and or people who read the news paper, One in the same as far as your Jenny B. Jones consuming eyes were concerned. 

I’m not saying I don’t love being “Grown.” But i really wish I had memories of me just being me, and not trying to be so grown, I wish I could remember being a kid and have less memories of me trying to be a rebelious teenager. I am now a Rebelious teenager, and I don’t want to try and be a Frantic twenty-sometthing before I become that. Theres a big difference being Mature beyond your years and years beyond your maturity. I refuse to rush the inevitable. 

I now concern myself with college admissions, and credit scores, and I read the news paper. It doesn’t have any fashion tips, or dating compatibility tests, or Horoscopes. 

I find a lot of Solice in the comic section though. 

Source: samanthadear