i wonder


how do you show your face when you’ve failed yourself? my answer (for so long) has been … .. . .. “don’t show yourself.” and so, i have managed to hide away from the depths of the internet … until today.

i dont think anyone will really remember me but I REMEMBER YOU! I remember each of you who I had followed and who I had formed somewhat of a relationship with .. . on here. .. haha. I missed you guys.

Uh, so this is awkward. Basically, I am back. Starting again … with my whole “dare-to-scare” challange. I dont know. I want to explain myself for stoping 12 days into the challange and THEN excusing myself for around 6/7 months … but all I have is excuses. Now, I have motivation !!! PLUS COLLEGE IS STARTING FOR ME IN A FEW DAYS AND I’M READY TO BECOME MY OWN PERSON AND LIKE STEP WAAAAAAAY OUT OF MY COMFORT ZONE AND STUF AHAHA!!

I will be posting and removing this soon. I just wanted to like …. i dont know … .see if anyone remembered me, wondered about me, or if i’m going to have to start fresh with this whole journey all together. i’m thinking of even … possibly .. … maybe …. . .. . uh, video taping my “scares” from now on.

i dont know. whatever. lets see where this post is going to take me.

excuse me for my informal-ness & bad spelling & bad structure or whatever ahhaha


#11: “Don’t stoop to his level, Dad.”

When I was younger I peed in my pants seven times in a row, seven times straight, and all because of my dad.

My dad isn’t a bad person, let me get that out there first. He’s a wonderful, brilliant, perfect father, the best that I could ever ask God for. But he’s scary.

My fear of my dad stems way back from when I was a baby; he says that he had to go as far as to bribing me with candy to even get me a foot near him. He blames it on his temper, but I’m betting it also had something to do with his long scary mustache.

Even though his anger was hardly ever directed at me (because I’m a princess) it would always scare me. Eventually, to the point where he would just shout and I would take a leak in my pants (don’t feel bad for laughing, I think it’s hilarious.) (also, for the record, I don’t do that anymore — I was like nine when it happened.)

While my dad didnt yell at me often, it still scared me when he did. Now, he hardly even raises his voice at me, or anyone; but I am still frightened of him. I’m not talking about the frightened I get when he decides to hide behind walls and then jump out laughing, ‘boo!’ I’m talking, emotionally frightened. Just looking at him does NOT give me the heebie jeebies, my friends, however, even the slightest tone of disapproval or disappointment has me crying. My mother on the other hand, she could chase me around the house with a spoon and I’ll find myself laughing.

And now to the point: The reason I decided to share that story was because it emphasized how big my scare was today. I’m beyond proud of myself. I can honestly say, I’ve never ever been prouder.

You’ve probably gathered that my scare today had something to do with my dad, and it sure as heck did. Today I corrected my dad, and I stopped him from doing something I think was wrong. I talked “down” to him. This man, with so much pride between his ears, probably could have never imagined a day where his timid, quite, daughter would tell him ‘You’re wrong.’

Basically, my dad has some beef with his manager. His manager doesn’t like him, treats him badly, and just isn’t fair. My dad doesn’t have much working on his side, really, as he didn’t get an education past high school, and he probably wouldn’t be able to find another job if he quit. The job he has now is his everything, we have a house (that we own), a car, food three times a day, and he’s supporting for six people, alone. (I repeat, he didn’t finish high school, dropped out as a freshman.) Basically, he needs this job. His manager, however, looks for every opportunity to get him fired.

Sorry this is so long.

Anyway, the beef. My dad found out something about this manager, something that wasn’t right. It is something small, I’ll admit, but still not right. This something has been going on for about a year?

So my dad decided to fight fire with fire. He wanted me to help him write a letter to the board informing them of what he (the manager) was doing. He justified himself, of course, by saying that he was only being dutiful, but also admitted that he wanted the manager to get in trouble.

He’s only human. Sounds normal, regardless of how grown-up he’s supposed to be.

While writing the letter, though, I thought of how childish it seemed, and how my dad was stooping to the managers’ level. However, (think back to the first story: peeing and scary-day)  I was too frightened to tell him that he shouldn’t do it, that it is wrong, and childish, and could backfire. Please tell me I’m not stupid for being terrified.

I did it though. At the end of the letter, he said, “I think it’s fine.”

I responded, “I think you shouldn’t send it.”

I explained how fighting fire with fire would make a bigger fire — but since he doesn’t speak English so well he couldn’t understand the analogy — it was really frustrating trying to make my point, and repeating myself, while also wanting to crawl back into my not-caring shell, but eventually he looked at me with a big smile on his face and kissed me on the forehead.

Something about being proud of me, and that even he was thinking in the back of his head that it was wrong. Happy things, basically.

I’m not going to drag this out anymore. Just know, I’ve never been so happy to have challenged myself in my life. I’m so glad I did this whole dare-to-scare thing. If it matters, I was thinking of the kind motivation from Kenneth Jobe, KG, and Momshieb, over the past few days. I can’t say thanks enough, you’ve made some random girl very happy.

I’m a beever.

#10: “Feeling stupid & Walking home”

I chickened out, friends.

I told another friend about this whole dare-to-scare thing, today, and she seemed fascinated by the idea. Of course, she refused to actually join in on the great fun, but she wants to contribute to the whole ‘idea making process.’ She thinks it will be exciting to come up with scary things for me to do, just to see me whole-heartedly agree and gallop into the challenge with open arms. I think my friends are having more fun with this then I am.

(Complete digression, but, very soon I’m going to do interactive recommendations, where other bloggers, aka you, get to recommend things for me to do. Give me your worst! Seriously, go wild. I’ll thank you in the future.)

Anyway, she found opportunities in every corner, each which I kindly declined, told her, “I’m slowly progressing into this, I cant jump to doing that right away!”

Towards last period she lowered her standards and told me that instead of quietly admitting to the teacher that I left my project at home (er — didn’t do it) that I walk up in front of the class and make it an announcement. (Technically, it was my idea, but I said it jokingly and she went into a tangent about how I should totally do it for dare-to-scare.) (This is why I don’t joke.)Long story short: I chickened out, and ended up not doing it.

It’s the end of the day now, and I still haven’t done any scares. My original plan was to walk to the school, by myself, in the dark, for a college-night thing (because I’m deathly afraid of that!) but I ended up not doing it out of laziness. Ugh.

Nonetheless, I’m reflecting back on today, and I feel like I did enough small things that make up for one big scare? More like two small things, anyway.

One: I embarrassed myself in class by claiming that I didn’t know about some basic things that we learnt a few years ago, you know, with the graphs and stuff? It’s humiliating, trust me, especially when a girl behind you keeps whispering: ‘Oh my God, this is so easy, I can do this in my head.’ (She’s the same girl from my “How about we all act mature” post.)

Two: I walked home with a guy. I was with another friend as well, but that’s besides the point. The point is, I walked home with a guy. That of the other gender, and everything.

Whatever, right? WRONG. To my parents thats a major wrong. If they see me even talking to a guy they have a million and one questions, (you think I’m exaggerating, ha.) it’s embarrassing, and they take everything all out of proportion.

I can honestly tell you that I have hardly ever spoken to a boy in front of my parents, not unless ABSOLUTELY needed. I kid you not when I say this, but over this summer break my dad asked me, “do you talk to boys?” I’m seventeen. Going to a high school. A public high school, with boys as the dominant gender, dad.

In my parents defense … just kidding, there isn’t a rational explanation in the world to explain their over-protectiveness (like, super over); or at least non that they haven’t given me yet. Whatever, they’re protecting me, yada yada. Whatever the case may be, I never walk home with guys. If they want to tag along, I tell them the rules: “we reach my block, you don’t know me anymore.” But today, I walked right with him. I didn’t do it as a scare, I just didn’t know him well enough to explain the situation, and it all came down so fast that I just let it be.

I know, I’m crazy.



#9: “Meditating in the middle of school halls.”

Major fail alert.

I’m going to keep this short and simple, to the point, because I have a lot of other homework and stuff to do, and a huge AP test tomorrow.

The day was winding down, at school, and I still hadn’t done my scare-of-the-day and so I decided to just do something I had avoided doing last week. The idea was to sit in the middle of the hallway and meditate. Like, legitimate meditation; eyes closed, fingers pinched, and a long hum-m-m-m, basically, the whole deal.

The reason I say this was a fail? The hallway wasn’t even crowded. Most of the people had already left and roughly (and I may or may not be rounding up) there was about 20 people in the hall. To make the experience even less exciting, because I’m a doofas, I decided to sit NOT in the middle, but against the wall of the hallway; making myself even less noticeable, and the experience even less scary.

I’m kicking myself in the face. Right now, I just floated out of my body (I’m not typing this) and I’m kicking myself. I’m so stupid. I know for a fact that by the end of this year I probably will not have done a single really gutsy thing, and that’s driving me up a wall. I want to enjoy this whole experience, but I keep chickening out.

Anyway, back to the story. So I’m sitting, I try to get my friends attention and she turns around and claims that she doesn’t know me, and I decide to just get it done with.

My crush. (In case you were wondering, a crush is a person whom you like. You dream of riding a hairy elephant with him/her around the world, and sometimes shaving the elephants hairy back, together, and playing peek-a-boo in his locks. Occasionally you imagine the person going bald and yourself creepily rubbing their head, and nodding for no apparent reason) –for the record, since very soon I’ll be famous and everyone will be reading this blog, this is a joke. I wouldn’t shave an elephants back, what kind of monster do you think I am?

Anyway, my crush. I don’t consider him a crush anymore, because I don’t really like-like him at the moment, but I did at one time. Boy, I did. Anyway, my crush was walking right in front of me (sitting on the  ground and all) and I decide to pinch my fingers right then, and hum. At least, I think I hummed. I don’t know if I have short memory or what, but I never can keep track of exactly when I did what, maybe its normal?

If you’re wondering, I didn’t exactly see his facial reaction, (I don’t think I did anyway).  So, I don’t know if this is just my imagination making things up from the fact that my friend later said, “did you see the look on his face?” or this is the reality of it all, but he had a reaction somewhere along these lines of —

CaptureAnyway, I did end up getting up from the floor very shortly after, and feeling like a complete failure. I literally sat there for less then a minute. That wasn’t scary, that was stupid and ungraceful, and chicken-like.

I’m just glad that my former-crush was there… because otherwise, I would probably punch myself in the face and shave my head bald and glue all my fingers together; he made it a bit more exciting, and by a bit, I mean very, extremely, mucho, hardly, scarcely, barely, only just, slightly exciting. More embarrassing then anything.

My grandkids are going to be so disappointed at story time. I don’t really think I want to study for my test anymore, hmm.

#8: “Goodbye everyone!”

Today, or yesterday, (depending on if this is a late-post) I couldn’t decide what to do as a scare.

I should probably start planning  these things out a bit more, because I always find myself scrambling last minute and then it feels less frightful. Believe it or not, the scary part is the whole “should I do it, should I not?” thought process, not the actual doing-it part. In your head you imagine a million and one things that could go wrong, you think about the horrible things people will be thinking of you, it’s just horrible.

So, anyway, today (or yesterday) I was waiting in a bus waiting area (inside school) with my friend. It was snowing outside and she was waiting for her brother to pick her up.  I felt bad leaving her sitting in the waiting area all alone, so I waited. We fooled around, laughed a bunch, but hardly acknowledged the many other people sitting there.

Then her brother came, and I was like, “shoot, I didn’t do a scare today.” It was the end of the day and I couldn’t do much at home. So one of my other friends suggested that on my way out I say “Goodbye everyone!” to everyone sitting there, minding their own business. Those scary scary people. I knew some of the kids sitting there, and if you asked them I would just be that “quite, smart girl” in their heads. I never acknowledge anyone that was there, in that waiting area, before.

Anyway, on my way out I said it. I opened the door and walked out behind my friend and raised my hand in the air and said, “goodbye everyone.” Walked right out. Didn’t turn back.

My friend ahead of me was laughing, she thought it was hilarious, and I agree. It’s so funny that we all have been going to the same school together for years and I find it embarrassing, or scary to acknowledge them? I’m not even the only one. If I asked my friend to do it, she wouldn’t have. It takes a good amount of courage to karate-chop that awkward barrier we all (most, all)  walk around with.

It was an interesting experience.

But I wonder, what if they didn’t hear me? What if the didn’t realize I was directing it to them and not at my other friends who stayed back to see if I would actually do it? I want to kick myself for it, a little, I should have turned around and really let them know.

It doesn’t matter — it’s done. Anyway, I said “everyone.”

#7: “How about we all act mature and …”

con·fron·ta·tion·al : tending to deal with situations in an aggressive way; hostile or argumentative.

I’m not very confrontational person, I’ll put that out there first. I don’t jump to make scornful remarks, and put myself in the position of vulnerability; I know better. Don’t get me wrong though, I’m also very opinionated person, like, very.

If I’m comfortable enough with a someone, they’ll hear everything I’ve got to say; and I’m sure, that logic works for most people. In the case that I don’t know you, though, I’m likely to avoid confrontation, or any form of aggression for that matter. To be honest, I’ll probably pour you a cup of tea out of my nose, if you ask kindly enough.

However, there is this girl.

This girl that I absolutely dislike. Despite the fact that she hasn’t done anything to me, or anything directly at least, there is just something about her that fills my throat up with hostility at her very name. I would never pour her a cup of tea from my nose, not a chance. (Okay, I’m not going to lie: she once said something about me, that was true, but embarrassing, to someone in class and it kind of pushed her on a hot-plate in my head.)

Anyway, I don’t like her too much. For the most part though, I don’t even know her. I might not like what she had said about me that one time, but I wouldn’t go out of my way to pave a path to hell for her. I have actually always been decent to her, I make small talk (like, really small talk.), look glare at her while she’s speaking, and keep all snorting in my head whenever I see her. What more can you ask of a girl?

But everything she does annoys me.

Her commentary, her arrogance, her opinionated stupid mouth, the fact that she’s so confident, everything annoys me. (You know what, before someone else points it out: yes, I’m probably jealous of her. Whatever) She’s annoying, but I keep that to myself, and amongst ranting to my friends.

Today she was just being super annoying, though. Like, there’s normal annoying, then there’s medium annoying, then there is I’m going to punch you so hard, in the groin, annoying, and then there’s her.

Our physics teacher had some questions up on a powerpoint presentation and asked the class to write the answers (with out groups) on the dry-erase boards, he was passing around. He handed one to me, and I passed it to the kid behind me (who was in my group, along with that girl, and an amiga of mine.) He had asked kindly if he could be the one to write the answers. So, why not?

Your royal heinous, of course, decided that she was more worthy and that she should be the one to write on the board. I kid you not, it was a whole five minutes of arguing on why she should be the one to write on it. I’m not sure if I’m making this up to make her sound more dislikable, but I think she also said something along the lines of, “but I’m a girl.”  Like that has something to do with anything.

Finally I had enough and I confronted her, “How about we all stop acting like immature [idiots] and just let him write it.” Now, I think I made my point clear on who “we all” was, and I looked her right in the face when I said it too. Fine, I didn’t say “idiots.” BUT, I did it, and you know what? I feel accomplished. I feel happy I stood up to her petulant babble.

(also, I have an internship class I teach in, (and usually I’m only allowed to grade papers and help the teacher hand out things, but today the teacher asked me to teach; and without hesitation I did it. I know it might not sound scary, but you have no idea.)

Anyway, kicked her off her thrown, didn’t I?

#6 “Public Speaking”

Public Speaking, it always gets the best of us.

I’m not going to lie, it’s been a good while since I’ve (somewhat) overcome my public-speaking dilemma, and I mean it when I say it; there was a point in time when public speaking made me want to vomit, I got all dizzy, and did anything to avoid taking that stand upfront an audience.

I don’t remember when my fear of public speaking began, or even exactly when it dissolved, but today I wasn’t as frightened as I was hoping I would be. I’ve just come to learn that public speaking does not necessarily result in vomiting, anxiety attacks, or death, instead, that it results in better communication with your peers. I’ve been public speaking since forever, and I’ve gotten the hang of it.

I’ll admit, though, I did feel a little jittery, but only slightly. The kind of jitters you get when you skip a step while running up the stairs, it’s not long, it doesn’t stay, it’s hardly anything. You get over it, you move on. I stuttered alittle bit, and forgot my words, somewhat, but I picked back up fast enough before anyone could really notice. I ended it curtly, and maybe I was just hearing things, but my whole AP class clapped louder for me then anyone else.

I wasn’t really frightened though. I feel pathetic claiming it to be my scare-of-the-day.

TOTAL DIGRESSION, BUT I NEED TO GET THIS OUT: I keep feeling like I’m cheating myself, everyday. It feels like I’ve been skipping around the border of my comfort zone, but still remaining conveniently close. I don’t feel like … life is happening. Does that make any sense? Probably not.

Will you believe it? It’s only been a week and I’ve already thought of giving up? Today I stopped myself in the middle of thinking, “this is a stupid idea, I should just start doing it next year.” That needs to change, those thoughts need to stop, I thought the same exact thing last year. I’m just such a chicken. I think way too much before I actually do anything.

So many ‘scary’ opportunities keep coming up and I figure out the perfect excuse to get away with not having to do it. I wonder why I cant come up with good excuses when I didn’t do my homework.

Anyway, the point is, I need to start challenging myself. I need to stop talking myself out of everything. I need to stop thinking so so so much about every little detail. I need to just j u m p.

#5 “Answeing questions honestly.”

  • Warning: A lot of sexual, highly embarrassing, snort-inducing content. Read at your own risk, or don’t. Yeah, don’t.
  • Side-effects, of reading, include: excessive, long-term balding, an unusual attraction to your own feet, carrots developing inside your ears, and frequent hallucinations of Abraham Lincoln nude. Basically, it’s highly recommended that you do not read ahead.
  • But seriously, there is sexual content so beware.


Today I scribbled a note to my friend, on the top I wrote “Ask me embarrassing questions and I’ll answer honestly.”

If you know me, I’m very exclusive on what information I share with people. Regardless if they are my friends, or not, I pick and choose — and sometimes lie — in response to things. So today when I asked my friends to come up with the most embarrassing questions she could think of, I was a little tense in answering, but to be honest; also somewhat excited.

The italicized words are the questions she asked me, followed with my answers.


1) Have you ever masturbated? ::I’m going to keep the answer to this one to myself. It’s not as simple as ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ It’s a long story. I might share it one day, I’m still in the process of opening up to the internet. ::

2) What was the most embarrassing thing that happened to you? I cant remember. Oh, wait, there was this one time that my aunt thought I was talking to this old man, who was actually just a friend who couldn’t be bothered to fill out her email settings. My aunt made a huge deal about it with my mother, and I wasn’t allowed to use the computer in a room by myself. Whoop-de-doo.

3) Did you ever wet your bed when you where older then ten? Yeah, one time seven times in a row. Probably not exactly seven, but, I’m positive, more then three. It was out of fear of my dad; sometimes when he yelled I would get so scarred I would wet myself.

4) Did you ever fart in class? HELL YEAH. Silent and deadly. Silent. and. deadly.

5) Have you ever watched porn? Yeah.

6) Did you ever eat your own booger? Nope. When I was younger, probably. I liked to stick them against walls and flick them in the air and see where they landed. When I couldn’t figure out where they landed — panic attack.

7) Have you ever cried for no reason? Yeah.

8) Did you ever throw up on someone? Not that I remember. Probably my mother when I was younger.

9) Did you ever make a stupid face and get caught?  Yeah, probably. I don’t remember any specifics though. I am always making stupid faces; I think people have come to believe its natural?

10) Did you ever stuff your bra or wear a bigger bra to make your boobs look bigger? I tried, once, to take a picture. It was pretty stupid looking to be honest. I never did it to school. I used to be super sensitive about my breasties size.


CaptureI literally just ripped up the note, right now. I’m glad; Imagine my parents reading it?

It was actually more fun then embarrassing, and my friend and I ended up sharing, with each other, funny stories. I even passed the paper around to a few of my other friends to read, and then go ahead and answer themselves. It was not only entertaining, but it seemed to make us feel somewhat closer.

It was fun.I’m glad I did it. I’m glad I was honest.

I’m thinking of doing the same “awkward questions” with that guy from my first post, “You’ve gone fat.” We’ll see about that one. Friends is one thing, a crush is another. What do you guys thing, should I?


#4: “Did you reach work okay, Dad?”

More mushy-gushy stuff.

Yesterday I told my mother I love her, and today I called my father at work, asking if he got there safely. I’m turning into a gaping tree with maple syrup oozing out of me, and it’s getting pretty uncomfortable.

Originally, I had planned to make another call. A call that required much more guts (along with other intestines) and had me biting on a loose hangnail all day; unfortunately and fortunately, the call couldn’t be made, I guess I’ll be saving that for another day. You guys will love it.

Anyway, the weather conditions today required that I stay locked up in my house all day — which I’m not complaining about, but the situation became pretty problematic when I had to figure out what to do today for dare2scare. My house isn’t a very scary place anymore, you know?

I figured then, that I’d push the envelope and offer my dad some of that lovie-dovie stuff I fed my mom yesterday. I went ahead and called him at work, asking if he had reached their safely. (For the record, I knew my dad had reached work fine because he had called my mother earlier and told her.) I just couldn’t get myself to say something more sentimental, and figured that it would be the easiest and quietest way to say, “hey, Mr. Dad , I do care.”

I know it doesn’t sound scary, but it just was. I don’t usually show my parents my concern and love for them, it’s just awkward. Today I showed my dad though. I know he’s thinking about it right now as I type this. I’m sure of it. He’s going to bring it up tonight as well, when he comes home and lays in bed with my mother — she’s going to tell him she didn’t know I called, she’s going to tell him, ‘you know, yesterday, she even told me she loved me.’

If you wanted to know how the conversation with my dad went down, I couldn’t tell you. All I know is, I was talking to fast, he answered normally, and it wasn’t as awkward as I thought it would be.

#3: “First time telling Mom I love her”

I told my mother I love her, for the first time ever today.

Before you go on thinking that I’m some snobby, ungrateful brat, hear me out? I am. One hundred and ten percent, I am, but not for the reasons you think. I’m actually just as much of a snobby, ungrateful brat as the next guy, we all are.

The reason I’ve never told her I loved her is not because I’m ungrateful for everything she’s done for me, not because I feel too superior, but because I’ve never been able to express my feelings with my family. Really, on a scale of awkward: one being least awkward to ten being the most; telling them I love them is eleventy. That’s not even a number, so go figure.

You know that time in your life when you subconsciously resolved that crying in front of your parents was equivalent to walking into a classroom butt naked with the body parts of the opposite gender? I think I took that phase in life a little bit to far, and decided to completely shut off all forms of emotional tendencies in front of my parents. I have this bad habit of taking everything too far.

Anyway, the point is, I don’t know how to share my feelings with my parents, I just expect them to know. Today, though, I did it. I told her I love her.

I honestly didn’t know how I expected her to respond, I didn’t really want to think about it. I guessed the perfect moment to tell her would be when she was preoccupied with doing something else, so maybe she wouldn’t focus too much on what I had to say.

I was laying on her bed and she was helping my brother with some computer class stuff. I pulled on her sweater, or rubbed her arm, I don’t know, and I just said it. She responded with a smile, not a ‘oh my’ smile, more like a ‘is she being serious’ smile. It irritated me, to be honest. All she said was, “Really?”

She looked at me like I was being sarcastic. I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not like I said it all mushy-gushy like anyway, I just kind of said it, a bit sing-songy and awkward. I think I replied with a ‘yeah’ while softy punching her in the shoulder and saying, “say it back.” but more jokingly, then serious. I don’t think I really wanted her to say it because it would have made it even more… weird.

The conversation kind of hung in the air after that. She half talked to me and half helped my brother with what he was doing. We didn’t really talk, exactly, more like punched each other playfully.

After a little while, I decided that I was done with all the mushy-gushy stuff and asked my mom if she wanted to lick my neck. She wasn’t surprised at that one, I explained that the gel from the ultrasound thing I took earlier was probably still on my neck, and since I couldn’t get my tongue to reach that far, I would let her do the honors. That’s our relationship.

Do you know what she said in response to that neck comment? She said, “You just told me you love me, you cant talk to me like that.” It wasn’t awkward, I just didn’t want to respond, so I left to take a shower. She brought it up again three times, serious. “You cant tell me you love me and then …” “So you really love me …”

It’s done. I’m proud of myself. I hope she sleeps with a smile on her face. Tell your loved ones you love them, if I could do it, so can you.

Also if you know how ultrasound gel tastes like, please let me know.