September 20, 2010

Ugh, I'm so tired, but I suppose I must write something so I don't keep people in the dark.

Last week was uneventful until Friday came. Hopefully one would remember Dana - you know, the creepy over-pierced chick that went with us to the concert earlier this month? She has this band, called Eating Spiders, and I suppose it's pretty good. Sure, people come to watch them play and all. I'm just not sure if the random people who come for coffee at her dad's personal Internet cafe' count or not. I mean, people need their cheap coffee in the morning ( assuming they're not getting their fix with a million dollars and a super mocha latte frapuchino heart attack in a cup from Starbucks ) That doesn't mean they came to hear "Eating Spiders" specifically. But hey.

Anyhow, I guess I can admit they're alright. They scream and wail and bang on pots and wear funny clothes when they perform. Thing is, they had some midday show at the cafe' last Friday while Charlie, Cindy, and I were enjoying the last day of the school week by swabbing muck from the hallway floors. Cindy was a stick in the mud; always moping and complaining and casting dirty glances at me. Charlie, though, was beginning to be good company. She told me her friends all thought she was mad for talking to me after what she said I did to her. They, like me, even questioned her new change of face. I've come to live with it, but still, I'm suspicious.

Anyways, Charlie had ideas of her own that day. At her suggestion, the two of us snuck out of the school the first moment we could, when the janitor supervising us announced that he had to take a piss. Maybe locking him in the staff bathroom with a chair was too far, but we sure got a kick out of it. I bet we got a couple minute's head start before Cindy Hayes got all high and mighty and let him loose.

At the cafe', Charlie and I got some oatmeal cookies and became part of a crowd of two as we watched Dana and her band do injustice to the hearing world with their noise.

After that, Charlie had another bright idea. We walked home - it wasn't too far, it is a small, stupid town afterall - and climbed to the tree house in her backyard. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but sitting on top of a tree in a dusty, nine-year-old tree house that hasn't been used and was sagging beneath the branches, is usually not a good idea. I protested, yes I did. I was even about to hop the little wire fence and go home, but something that day had overcome me. Maybe it was the incredibly cheap, incredibly delicious secret ingredients of those oameal cookies. I am ashamed to say that I climbed that damn tree.

I fell soon after. The wooden "floor" did not feel like holding the extra weight and the loose boards cracked, sending my scary ass tumbling all the way to the ground again.

I popped my ankle out of place.

My dad said it was no big deal after he took me to see the doctor, but I swear they must have overlooked something. My foot has swollen to the size of a small cantaloupe. It's purple and bruised and....veiny. My toes look like fat little sausages stuck inside a ball of rancid, radioactive hamburger meet. I can't even put my left shoe on anymore!

Upon request I won't have to go to school until the swelling goes down. ( I know it hurts like nothing else, but I occasionally hit my foot against the edge of my dresser to prolong my newfound vacation time. ) I'm stuck in the house with nothing to do but play video games and draw comics - I'll have to show you guys sometime come to think of it.

I won't let Charlie anywhere near my house anymore. She came to the door, asking my dad if she could see me, but I yelled down from my room upstairs that I wasn't interested. I just don't feel like talking I guess.

- Max

Tuesday, September 14

Today was fairly normal. I'm surprised I haven't gotten suspended from attending school, now that I think about it, but I guess the Assistant Principle and the Counselor must have agreed that my stupid detention sentence was punishment enough.

Cindy didn't come to clean with Charlie and I yesterday, which I thought was extremely unfair. She may have had absolutely nothing to do with the "drama" that was circling the two of us, but the damn bruise on the back of my leg was still smarting and I just had to complain about it.

She almost got off with a suspension herself, but why should she get to stay tucked away in her home while I'm stuck scrubbing toilets and scraping the gum off the bottom of lunch tables? I'm no snitch, but when things have to be put right, I call on myself as that awesome voice of justice.

Now, I don't understand what her problem was today. She kept staring at me like I was about to keel over and grow a third arm out my ass. I asked her  if she had an eye problem, but she didn't seem to have anything to say about that.

Meanwhile, her friend Charlie has been warming up to me. I'm still suspicious of her motives. I have to say, I feel like I've gotten tired of her already. She was the one that started all this crap for me. She got me hooked on her and in return for my niceness and attention, she's lain a whole line of traps and trouble in my path. As of now, that jerk has been blacklisted. I don't care what she says. 

Still, her conversation was good to have in the hours that followed today after school. We talked about how bad our peers looked in their outfits, and how trashy the algebra teacher we shared looked every morning. Her favorite pokemon are the "original ones" - Suirtle and Charmander ( what a poser ) and she loved to listen to singers like Paolo Nutini and Corrine Balley. I don't know why she had the CD in her bag, but she gave it to me to borrow for a while.

Right now I'm listening to 'Put your Records On' by Corrine.

It's quite different from the screaming antics of Kill Hannah and From First To Last, but I like it.

It's nice...

-Max

Monday, September 13, 2010

Lucky number thirteen.
I cleaned a buttload of bathroom gunk today. The janitors where having a ball watching me complain and gag my lungs out for three hours. Why were they even there anyways? Didn't they have anything better to do?
Seriously. :/

After the first three hours, we get a lunch break right. Honestly, by then I'm not even in the mood to eat for the rest of the week. Somehow I manages to stuff down the turkey sandwich I'd packed for the occasion.

Ugh, I'm so tired right now, I can't even muster up enough sarcasm to do this post any justice.

I just wanted to update because I feel it might brighten my unbelievable crappy day to tell you guys that Charlie apologized to me. She did it in a funny way too, making it seem like it wasn't really her fault at all.

She was sitting beside me at the lone lunch table (a requirement I could tell she didn't really appreciate) and said something like "So, I'm sorry you got your ass handed to you by Cindy Hayes."

I had said nothing, but she went on. Like it was no big deal. She even showed me a video on her iPhone when the vice principle wasn't looking. I admit, it was pretty legit - the angle of the two-second fight was pretty lucky, and I'd gone down in a pretty comical way. Even then as I'd seen that stupid video, I know I winced in pain on the inside just from reliving the moment again. I wonder how long it will take for it to appear on Youtube...

Ugh. The embarrassment is already settling in.

After that, we didn't talk much. I was in no mood to play nice anymore. But I did somehow end up with her number. Her real one this time. She said I was a pretty cool kid - and that I could take a hit like a pro.

I'm hanging out with her this weekend.


-Max

September 10, 2010

I'm not quite sure how things ended up like this; with me having to sit in the counselor's office today, beside Charlie and in front of one angry looking Mrs. Mathen. Although contrary to popular belief, Mrs. Mathen is not at all married. She's an old shrew now, and its been said that she has issues living on her own and coping with loss. However Mr. Mathen, now married to some blonde chick with two lovely children, is very far from dead. Our counselor must have decided she'd lovingly hold on to the title of a married woman if she couldn't have the house he took from her. She insists we use her name at all times.

Yeah. Things get around pretty quickly in this town. Your whole life story could probably end up on the front of the newspaper if you're not careful - not because you're interesting in any way, but more likely because there's nothing else to talk about around here...

Jogging back to what's more important here though, I'd like to say that, first of all, I wasn't the one to start these ridiculous rumors about myself, so I had no idea why I was subject to such punishment. Charlie was accused of 'defamation of peers' (as Mathen likes to put it) while I was accused of "unruly behavior". Apparently it is the kind of behavior where you help someone out and take them home so they won't get their asses handed to them - they just couldn't make a new fancy name for it quick enough.

And the only chaos at this school has been directed towards me. Every one of Charlie's little friends can't pass up the chance the to say the nastiest things as I walk down the hallway. So when I punched her friend Cindy Hayes in the throat yesterday morning, I was a little confused at everyone's surprise. It's not like they didn't see it coming.

What I didn't see coming was her foot connecting to the back of my kneecap. I forgot she was part of the girls' field hockey team. Yes, I'm walking around with a limp at the moment..

As punishment, her brilliant idea was to require a month of community service towards the school. She says that our actions "have cause far too much chaos in the foundation of this school and in the minds of our students."

I'm stuck swabbing lunch puke off the floor and cleaning crap and writing off the walls of bathroom stalls after school. Community service is just another fancy word for god damned detention.

-Max

September 7, 2010

She sued me!

Well, she said she was going to sue me.

Here I am, caring for her and asking if she wants something to drink as she's waking up, and she has to go and start screaming like I'm about to take out a knife and start cutting things off! Luckily my dad is always as drunk as she was last night. He didn't even bat and eyelid.

Oh but Charlie didn't feel like stopping there. She went and told the whole school that I drugged her and took her home to fool around. I didn't even touch her!

Okay, maybe a part of me wanted to take a chance, but seriously I don't stoop that low. I swear I'm not even that freaking creepy.

The only reason I took her to my house was because her back door was locked and I wasn't about to face her parents confronting me and their drunk teenage daughter. What was I supposed to do!? Leave her on the lawn like some discarded, unwanted white trash? I already did enough damage by letting her give herself a mini concussion. Come on! Those are some seriously conflicting thoughts there.

Then her parents called and asked why I lied about her sleeping over at my house. I don't know how that came up on their end because obviously Charlie didn't tell them she was drunk or that I drugged her. Now they think I'm just some creepy desperate kid and that their precious Charlie was at another friend's house. Christ, I just couldn't get a break.

Bitches be trippin'.

September 6, 2010

Is it just me or are iPods hard as shit to type on? I mean the buttons.. They're fucking impossible.

I've been MIA for a while, and let me tell you why. After coming back from an ultimately boring vacation, school has managed to kill my creative braincells one by one. I've all but forgotten about stalking Charlie girl, since she hardly comes to school anymore. I wonder where she's been... What lame ass freshman boyfriend she's giving it to under the bleachers while I'm stuck in history class, bored and contemplating where I should stick my next piece of chewed gum.

On the bright side, it's been an eventful Labor Day weekend. I went to a concert near the boardwalk by a small beach with what few new fiends I had. There's this chick, Dana. I can tell she's bad news. Piercings all over her face it seems, and she wears her curly black hair in a frohawk with the sides dyed hot pink. Her nose ring is pretty vicious though - it's in the shape of a little skull, but I think all that silver on her face really stands out against her dark brown skin. She's outrageous
and a dyke like yours truly. If I weren't so set on Charlie I think we'd have a pretty good run for about three weeks. Give or take.

I honestly don't know how I met Dana. Normally, I don't associate myself with such an eccentric type of person, so I'm assuming she's a mutual friend of Lucas's, who was the other person I went to the concert with last night. Now LuckyBear ( Lucas ) is a trip. One minute he's smiles and rainbows and the next he's clawing halfway down either your throat or his own. I swear he's two steps short of being suicidal, but when I asked his mother when they picked me up, she angrily declared that it wasn't the case. I met LuckyBear at a pool party I wasn't invited to. He tried to hit on the girl beside me but I pushed him into the pool. I can't remember why... Other than the fact that it seemed like a good idea until he and I got forced out. I guess that was a good thing, though because it turns out that he's known Charlie since childhood. Actually, the only reason the three of us were at the lame concert was because he said she'd be there.

So instead of playing Bioshock for the third time that night we dug up some of his money and decided to go. I have no idea were Dana came into things ( and I'd asked her like a million times who she was, but she didn't answer me ) she's just... there.

We did see Charlie last night, to my surprise. As the band started up - local and suckish, they looked like preteen All American Reject wannabes and sounded like it too - everybody began to dance for lack of anything else to do. This, ladies and germs, is when I decided to make my move. And this is how it went:



"Hey" I tapped Charlie's shoulder roughly, and she turned from the two guys she'd been dancing with. I gave her what I figured was my winning smile and leaned back a little - for a more suave effect.

She smiled and brushed her hair back. I frowned a little because her roots were showing much more than they had since our last encounter. " oh hey, Max!" she said, still swaying to the beat of the music.

She remembered my name!

" You wanna dance?" these words had come from her mouth, not mine, and before I could even turn my embarrassing-ass stutters into words, she grabbed my hand and soon we were jumping to the music.

After some time I didn't know where my friends had gone, but I didn't care. It felt like a fairytale, minus the corny slow dancing part. I couldn't believe Charlie was actually dancing with ME, the socially retarded, Pokemon-playing, Yugio card-trading reject. My elated grin came crashing down when she upchucked all over my new Converse sneakers.

"What the Fuck?" I screamed and backed away. I shook my shoes, shaking barf chunks all over the assholes that just stood there and watched like it was funny.

Charlie giggled. She was drunk. " you said...fuck" she snickered, then moved to lean on my shoulder.

But I stepped to the side and let her fall.



-------

Okay, so maybe I am a jerk for reacting the way I did. I mean, Charlie was the idiot in the first place for getting so drunk at such a stupid excuse for a concert, but it's not like I couldn't have at least.. held her up or something. I seriously doubt if it's my fault that her head hit a rock as she touched down, too. I'm sure she could have aimed her fall a little bit better. What a drama queen.

The crazy thing is, it didn't end there. I don't know how long a normal person is supposed to be able to sleep, but when Charlie's hangover becomes too much for sleep in the next hour or so, I wonder how she'll react to waking up in my bed..

-Max

July 5, 2010

"Maybe you should set your sights on someone else."

She was probably right, that woman. Of the ocean of so-called girlfriends (one night stands) my father has had, I think this woman just might be my favorite. I mean, she's the only one I've seen since mom that is some shade of normal. She wears a normal amount of makeup, doesn't look too bad for what I assume is her old(er) age. She's nice and doesn't treat me or my dad like crap. Her only problem is that she keeps giving me lame ass advice.

It's only been a couple days since the last girl -her name was Julie or Jacey or.... something - left without a trace after her second sleepover here. The last thing I heard her say the night before she left was "....Serious! You can't be done already...."

Since then my dad has been out and around bars more than usual, no doubt to consolidate what pride he has left before facing me and my taunts again. He probably doesn't want me blabbering about his business all over the place but it's not like he reads this thing anyways. It's not like anyone does...

*cough* subliminalbeggingforcomments *cough*

But this new woman's name is Moira. That's a butt ugly name for any human being but at least is doesn't match her face. I think she's pretty but I'm not sure if that's natural beauty or pounds of face cream.


The reason, though, that she was giving me this advice not too long ago was the fact that she and my dad caught me red handed when they came home early from their little late-night escapades. I thought it would be an all-week thing, but I guess not. I was asleep by the living room window with my binoculars in one hand and a demolished slice of cake in the other. I was laying on an oozing green pile of Mountain Due bottles. The first thing my old man yelled at me for was going through his entire stash of soda.

"And how did you find it anyways!" He'd said.

Dude, he's not exactly that great at hiding anything, much less in this house.

Now I guess they've finally worked up enough guts to actually sit me down and talk about my so called problem. An intervention, I guess this is. I'm surprised they didn't hire a professional to sit in with us. They went on about how stalking is a serious and dangerous habit. They said that if things go far enough, the police and - god forbid, according to Moira - the "entire neighborhood" (which is like three streets) could hear of this. It was an endless string of sentences like "Respect Charlie's privacy" , "If she's not interested then let her be", and even "Would you want someone to do this type of thing to you?"

Honestly? Hell yes!

Stalking is the most sincere type of flattery if you ask me.

Really it was just Moira doing all the talking. Occasionally she would squeeze my father's hand for support when she felt she wasn't being understood and he would let out a submissive grunt. He gave her googly eyes more than he payed attention to me. Thinking now, I honestly have my doubts that he really had any idea of what the whole conversation was about anyways.

But after all this brainwashing I guess they have a point. I haven't even bothered to talk to Charlie at all since I began to take this so seriously. Maybe it was the fact that she completely ignored me towards the end of school and then blatantly blew me off with a fake number. I felt the sting of her actions, but it's not like I tried to get back at her. I didn't even go through with throwing eggs at her house. Actually, it made the chase that much more fun. It made me like her more because she's not as easy as I thought she'd be. I mean, at first this bitch girl had me thinking that this blog would be simple. I state my purpose, I get laid and then forget all about her and writing these stupid thoughts every day. Wham bam done. Nothing to it. But I guess not.

Okay, I won't stalk her as much. And if I do, I definitely won't be so careless enough to get caught next time. Lord knows I don't want to have the new dragonlady breathing down my neck everywhere I go. Hell, I'll even add another goal to my list since I'm making one. I'll talk to Charlie again. I'm going to make her realize I actually exist and I'm going to go through with my plans. I swear to jebus, I'm getting mine before this life is over. If its the second to last thing I do.

More next time I speak to Charlie.

-Max

July 1, 2010

I bought new binoculars. I know I don't really need them, since Charlie lives next door to me and all. Her room's not exactly right across from my room's window, but it's the next one over. I could easily see what she's up to if I crouched real close to the far edge of my window, but that gives me only a sliver of the interior of her room. It's not exactly the best situation in the house, but it will do for now. I'll have to see about switching rooms with my dad since that's the one right across from hers. I've got the bigger one (thanks to my superior wining and bitching skills used the day we moved here) so I'm sure he'll be more than happy to turn it over with minimal amounts of grumbling.

Anyways. I bought these binoculars from the dollar store. I'm no rich cat, and as long as they work I don't care how cheap and plastic they are. I won't have to see far anyways. I also got this cool little spy kit from the kid's toy section in Target the other day. It's got one of those things where you stick the cone end on the wall and you can hear everything on the other side through the earphones. There's a small magnifying glass (good for roasting bugs) and cool looking shades too. I think I did well in spending my five bucks on such merchandise.

My plan for today is as follows:



1. Operation: Ant Hill.
Attempt to set fire to the ant hill outside my home.

The ants have been getting rather brave lately, crawling into my home and infesting the corners of our kitchen. This is my top priority - code blue - the menaces must be stopped, even if I have to dig for their queen and set her on fire myself. If the magnifying glass doesn't work, then the box of matches I've saved for such an occasion will certainly do the trick.



2. Night Ops
Stakeout with the...cake out.

I've got my binoculars. I've got my Ipod. My laptop and my computer desk have been moved to the convenient location in front of my window. I've even bought paint to put camouflage colors all over my face - to reduce the chances of being seen of course.

I'm making cake as we speak and I've located my dad's stash of soda to keep me awake through the night.

This is a special occasion because Charlie's parents aren't home and they won't be until after the fourth. I guess it's a special week for them or something. My dad's decided to take a week long road trip with his newest clown whore Jasmine, so I've got the house to myself as well. My gut tells me that Charlie will probably be having another party, so this will be my second chance to crash it. Either that or I'll get to watch her undress while she isn't looking.

I'll keep updates every hour past six.





6:00 PM

Eating Dinner. I guess I was right. Charlie started accepting a few guests about an hour ago. Just three other girls. I don't know two of them, but one of them is Cindy Hayes. She's some accountant's kid who lives in this huge house on the other side of town. Her mom is supposed to be some hotshot professor at a University who makes stupid amounts of money. (We're talking bank. ) I've no idea what that woman teaches, but it seems to be enough that Cindy arrives at school with dumb designer outfits all the time. She's got red hair, brown eyes, a fat pudgy nose...
She's not all that attractive if you want my opinion.

The other girls are rather pretty, though. One has got long, wavy brown hair and blue eyes. The other looks kind of like Charlie, only her hair is probably naturally blond and she has lots of freckles. She's a lot taller than Charlie too. Hmm.





7:00 PM

Well, it turned out to b a slumber party. They're not doing anything all that interesting but taking turns calling people and giggling about it. It's getting dark.

My lame Magikarp finally evolved into a kickass Gyrados a couple minutes ago. I'm laying waste to those damn Oddish that keep popping out of nowhere.

I hate oddish.





9:00 PM

Sorry, I skipped an hour. I couldn't see them for a while - I think they went into the basement to continue their girlish games. Boring, boring, boring. You'd think someone as hot and popular as Charlie would know how to have a good time. Childish slumber parties like this should be beneath her.

One of the girls went home. Unfortunately it wasn't Cindy.






10:00 PM

They made cookies. Watching a movie downstairs. I moved down into the kitchen for a better view through their back window. I've stopped playing Poke'mon. Moved on to Zelda.

Finished off the last of my cake, feeling jittery after drinking three bottles of Mountain Dew. :/




12:00 AM

Ugh! What a stupid movie. They watched Dear John and literally brought down a box of tissues so they could cry about it. I'll never understand why women like this actually enjoy torturing themselves over movies that only make them feel bad. Honestly. I don't care what they're doing now. I'm taking a nap.




1:45 AM

Ahh, couldn't sleep, but ohmyGOD did I just hit the jackpot.
It's like girl's gone wild in Charlie's bedroom. Slumber party of the year in my book. Can you say pillow fight in pajamas?
Not, not the stupid flannel kind, the kind with a tank top and short shorts. I never thought Dora could look so good, but Charlie definitely pulls it off. Man, I only wish I was in there with them.

Well, minus Cindy. Cindy is actually wearing the long-sleeved flannel kind and her pudgy little tummy hanging out from her too-small shirt is ruining the mood for me. I don't mean to sound like a pig, but -hey...we all have our preferences and fantasies. Cindy's not the type that should be included in either. God, I hate her so much. I'm just waiting for one of the others to whack her off the bed with a pillow, leaving her unconscious.

Well, I'm done blogging for the night. I think I'm going to take this time to enjoy the beauty of two plucky teenage peers.


Kirk out.

-Max

June 27, 2010

Maxie girl went to a party
not knowing it was lame and farty.
Sitting all night in the cold
Charlie's party's getting old.
Farty party smarty tarty
Fuck this dinner, screw you Charlie.

She said to me, "Maxine, you have to leave, you aren't invited. Next time I see you lurking at my doorstep I'm going to call the cops." The cops! As if standing in front of someone else's door is really all that bad. It's weird, but why does it have to be illegal. Who says it is? A bunch of sweaty fat men and women with their panties up their asses, that's who.

I went home last night disappointed. I got no action, no music, and worst of all no free food. I went home hungry. But the worst part about it is that Charlie's mom thinks I'm some freak kid with no life and no other place to go. I can only imagine the horrible gossip she's probably told Charlie already. And then she even had the nerve to call up my dad and get him in on it! I was saved the lecture yesterday because he had to rush off to his crappy job at the skating rink, and I thought I was off the hook until now. I promise, I will never be so stupid again. He told me that if he ever saw me near that house again I would receive a more terrible punishment than the devil himself could give me. And those are the words straight out of his mouth, too.

He knows I've taken a liking to our cheeky little neighbor and he knows full well of my intentions because - let's face it - it's happened before. But I mean....it's not like I do anything you know? I don't have anything else to do with my time either. He's always hogging our only TV, I get tired of my gameboy pretty damn quick, and there's nothing else to do here but roller skate and walk around outside. I'm not and outdoors kind of person, let me tell you. Plus, following someone around makes me feel like a ninja. That honestly should be my only justifiable reason for doing the lousy things I do.

Whatever. He can try to keep me from my (admittedly weird) hobby, but it will be to no effect. I'm like the unholy spawn of James Bond, Chuck Norris, and both the Spy Kids, bitch. Nothing keeps Max B. down.

For the most part.


-Max

June 26,2010

The world is such a small place to live in, you know? Take out the idea that everything we see on television is so unattainable, buy yourself a goddamn airplane ticket, and you could be anywhere in this world in a matter of days. It's not like I've been anywhere but this this quiet excuse of a town to tell you the truth, but the thought is still a little bit depressing. After I see the whole world, what will I do next? Will I be bored and without a goal left in me? Will the world and its cultures suddenly seem so bland and boring? I want to see it all, but then again I don't. I want to see girls - oh, excuse me, women - from every culture and appreciate their beauty. My only problem is, is that the earth seems so small when you think about it. I just don't want to be bored.

Urg.

Well, I bring it up because I'm due to be shipped off to the beautiful Seattle city in a month or two. It's about a six to eight hour flight in a commercial plane that blasts across the whole country to get there. I'm exited, but not as much as I used to be. The first time I went there to visit the other half of my family, it was the most exiting thing in the world. The people were to flamboyant and different. To tell you the truth, I was but a pale shadow in their presence. The food? Amazing, slightly overpriced, and salty compared to what I'm used to.

The second time I went, it wasn't as great. Everything was expected; it was all already done before. I can only hope that this time, my visit will be met with an unexpected, yet welcomed turn of events.


Good news though!
A couple friends and I have kept in contact in these whole seven days of summer. It took them long enough to get bored enough to remember me...
Movies and parks are about to fill these next few days. The guys and I (Guys being Marcus and Julio - more info on them later) will be living it up as best we can in this rinkydink neighborhood before I leave.

Also.
Word around is that Charlie is hosting a party tonight. She claims to have invited her whole guest list, but I'm a little confused because I didn't even get mine yet. After she went to pick up party favors, I casually asked her mother about it and she told me that it was nothing but a dinner party.

Dinner party my ass. It'll be nothing at all without Max B. to liven things up. That's alright, though. I'm still going to save them the trouble and do them all the favor by going there uninvited tonight. All I need now is something to wear that doesn't scream '2012 poster child for the fashionably challenged and horribly underprivileged.'

Tonight is my night to score, amiright?

-Max

June 16, 2010

Tomorrow is the last day of school. I'm not sure I want to go at all really. God forbid I actually get a reward at the two hour assembly we'll be having. I'm debating about going, but - hell - I've got nothing better to do. And besides, it being the last day and all, I'm sure there will be enough fights going around to keep one happy and entertained for the time being. Funny how everyone treats the end of the school year as permission to be as stupid as you can be. I even saw some chick with cherry red hair dressed in a bananna suit singing Peanut-butter Jelly Time in the cafeteria the other day! Like no one is going to remember you when school comes back around next year.

Freaks.

Well! I can't say I'll be missing any of the assholes I've encountered this year. Good riddance.

I plan to spend this summer relaxing and ridding my environment of as much assholery as I possibly can.

-Max

June 5, 2010

I've got to be the dumbest person in the existence of mankind. She conned me! That jerk tricked me with a fake number. Why she did it, I have no idea. I called Charlie today, hoping to strike up another conversation with my newly found friend. You can guess how surprised I was when a woman picked up and cheerily greeted me with a "Hi! This is Puppetto's Pizza Parlor, how may I help you?"

I could feel myself about to scream then, but at the moment I don't know whether to be angry or happy with the fact that I'm now eating the most delicious pizza I've ever had in my life. (I mean, seriously. It's bangin'. ) Should I be okay knowing that she had absolutely no intention of talking to me in the first place? I mean, I didn't even ask for her number, she gave it to me with a smile. So excuse me if I'm a little confused.

Well, if she wants to play stupid games, then so be it. I hope she likes eggs, because she's about to get an entire carton right through her window. If I've learned anything in my bleak existence as a nobody, it's that you can't take shit sitting down.


...wait.
...I mean you can but....

...shut up. :/



-Max

June 2, 2010

It's officially been twenty-one days since my last post. School is almost over, yet end of course exams are days away. It kills me how such sweet triumph in knowing summer is here can be so spoiled. It's like knowing you're getting out of hell, but you've got another five rounds of extra harsh torture before you do. Sort of. I guess its better than nothing, though.

Is it just me, or are high school girls dressing more and more like sluts these days? I mean, I've got to admit, it is eye catching on the rare occasion, but watching a bunch of gap-toothed freshman girls that look like they've jumped out of a vat of acid and Mary Kay supplies isn't an appealing thing to do on a daily basis.

Luckily for me and half the population of the male sophomore class, Charlie is not this trashy. I'm surprised, actually, because she looked pretty classy today. Her black heels and slick glasses as a stunning fashion statement aren't what I want to blog about today, though. No, no, no, my friends. I'd like to say that this day officially marks the steamy beginning of a new chapter in my story.

It starts with the closing of an art club and a string of fevered curse words.

Recently my father picked up this chick (at the sorry excuse of a "club" around here,of course. Where else?) Her name is Janey. She's a hoot, let me tell you. You'd think no one in their right mind who wasn't over fifty would wear tacky red lipstick and purple eyeshadow anymore, but then you'd be dead wrong. Janey is your classic hooch, a grade-A streetwalker.

Well anyways, today is Wednesday, which is the day I go to art club every week. It's a sad excuse of a club - really just a place for the local anime freaks (no offense) , wannabe artists, and troublemakers spend an extra hour away from home. I get out of their at four. I expect my ride to be there five minutes after, if not earlier. Sure I could walk the few neighborhoods and streets home, but it was hot and muggy.... I mean seriously.

So I sat outside the school in blazing hot weather, by myself, looking lonely as shit to my embarrassment, waiting for a full hour for the dumb bitch to pick me up. It later tuns out that Miss Janey was arrested for stealing alcohol. A dumb move on her part too. If a doped up minor with a fake ID can manage to steal some alcohol every once a while in this town, I don't see how she could possibly screw it up. Or buy it. That's always an option.

But the angels must have been calling my name, because after ten minutes Charlie walked out of the building and sat herself right down beside me. Of all the empty benches in the front of the school, mine was the one she chose! I was smiling so hard, I was pissing rainbows. :)

Like any normally social people, we struck up a conversation. I learned today that Charlie plays the piano. She takes extra classes after school for the heck of it, so I'm assuming she really loves to play. Though, when I told her I'd love to hear it sometime, she looked at me like I was a crazy person. I thought she'd up and leave at that point, but to my surprise she didn't. Charlie is pretty cool once you get past her obvious and intimidating aura of popularity. She's on the tennis team yearly, loves World of Warcraft, hates my choppy and dark haircut, thinks I'm emo, and can't stand the smell of the deodorant I wear. She's also brutally honest to the point of being a bitch, but I still like her.

She left ten minutes later, but I was still dazed enough not to hate the next forty or so minutes as I thought about how amazing she looked. How amazing it'd be to get into her pants, I mean. And when Janey the ugly mammoth pulled up in her bent up automobile at 5:15, I couldn't help but grinning to myself. While I'm a little ticked off that I didn't learn all this about Charlie while I was supposed to be allegedly "stalking" her (well, more like following her around randomly when I feel like it before I get to know her, but you get the drift) I still can't help relishing in the fact that she actually talked to me.

Oh, and I also got her number.

Giggity, giggity.


-Max

May 11, 2010

So it's been about a week since my run-in with her. Not too much has happened since then, much to my distress. I think the song that most describes my mood right now could be "I don't want to miss a thing" by Aerosmith, but that's up for debate of course. :(

It really gets me, the way she acts, because after that day everything went back to normal. I mean, you'd expect that when I hold the door open for her or walk past her in the hallway, she'd at least acknowledge my presence or say hello. This small-town high school has what, less than three hundred people in it? I mean, you really have to go out of your way to ignore somebody like that.

But enough Charlie talk - I'm getting a little sick of it. Sick of her...

My dad!

Christ, that guy can hold a grudge for the longest fucking time!

"Get a job, Maxine." He says "When are you going to get a job? Maxine, why don't you have a job? Maxine! Maxiiiiinnnneeeee!"

I quit working as a bag-person or whatever at the grocery store a couple weeks ago (it was boring, ugh!)  So now there's about 50 dollars less in the money pool for his bi-weekly poker games with the only two friends he's ever had since beginning (and soon thereafter, inevitably discontinuing) his own personal social life. And now he's all ticked at me for it.

My bad. Bagging some gross old lady's wheat bread and skim milk all day wasn't really working out for me. I think its dead-end, mindless jobs like bagging groceries that can turn people into zombies. It's true. I've seen it.

But Charlie.

Charlie, Charlie, Charlie. She's on my mind lately. Jumping around, smashing pots, pans, and noisemakers against the sides of my skull day in and day out. Not to sound like some creeper, though. But damn, sometimes you can't help but think about a girl you know? I'm not getting soft or anything. I'm just a very focused individual with some badass tunnel vision for the task at hand. I've still got my eyes on the prize, baby.

-Max

May 5, 2010

Trailed her to some super secret hangout today. I thought I was finally going on some awesome covert operation type mission, but turns out she was just headed to Mr. Cock Blocker's house a couple blocks down from our neighborhood. I thought about hanging around the window, but I honestly didn't care to stick around for the sound effects.

The funny thing is, as she walked out the door this morning (We leave for the bus stop at relatively the same time. Yes, a coincidence. ) I remember her yelling to her mother about soccer practice after school. Now, I'd expected to be at the field today, and instead I'm lurking in the bushes on the other side of the street, facing enemy base camp. I wonder what her mother would say.

If I knew following someone would be so goddamn boring, I might've done something far more interesting than this today. Like maybe jump off a bridge. Truth is, people aren't really that interesting. What do we do but the same thing we've done every day? We're creatures of repetition, making little variations in our daily lives every now and then that act as a pinch to let us know we're still alive. We make up amazing adventures and scenarios in our minds so we don't feel so dead. We tell ourselves that everything is more interesting and a lot more deep and meaningful than it actually is.

Fabrications, I say. Life is boring; although occupied with the occasional breathtaking moments that we'll remember for the rest of our lives, the rest is full of shit, piss, tears, and work, work, work. I could have at least filled some time with video games. Instead I wasted an hour hiding out on the dirt behind a tree until that little jerk came back out.

There's no real reason why I still decided to stay. But I'm glad I did, because what happened next - well, let's say it was one of those kinds of moments I mentioned. One that won't soon be forgotten.

So there she was, bra strap hanging off her shoulder and peeking just below the cuff of her short sleeve. No more lipstick, and her hair was definitely in a different style than it had been before she'd arrived. It was getting pretty dark - I'm guessing it was around dinner time, so about 6 O'clock. I have no idea how long I was just sitting there. I must've fallen asleep listening to some Poke'mon theme song after discovering my precious Gameboy in the folds of my bookbag, because instead of being propped up all nice and hidden behind the leaves, I was somehow lying horizontally on the ground. Out in the open, like a passed out hobo.

Thinking back, I shudder at the thought of some kind of bug crawling up my ear...but I guess thats another topic entirely. :(

Next thing I know, I see her standing over me. I swear to God she seems an angel what with the dim sunlight shining behind her big face and all, yellow messed up hair falling over her eyes and everything. To anyone else, she'd look a hot, raggedy mess. In that moment though, as I looked through bleary, foggy eyesight, she was pretty goddamn beautiful.

She'd asked me if I was okay, and I played it off, acting like I was some drunk creeper who'd happened to take nap in the bushes. To my surprise, I guess it must have worked in some way, because she laughed. Her laugh was pretty cute, okay, I'll admit. She didn't help me up  or anything, but I didn't need help then. I'd just stood up, smiled and introduced myself.

Okay, so she already knows me. We've only been classmates this entire school year. Shuttup, Captain Obvious.

There was no real conversation, but she did compliment me on my old, beat up red canvas shoes before saying she had to go home. I played it cool, you know. Acted like I wasn't watching her thighs switch beneath her dress as she walked when she looked back. I think I pulled it off.

Either way, I'm definitely wearing these shoes tomorrow.

-Max

May 3, 2010

So this is pretty much how my conversation with Charlie turned out to be:

Yup instead of wasting our time having a real conversation at the coffee shop, we took a nice detour and crashed at my place instead. It was nice. No one, and I swear it on my hamster's grave, No One can pull off yellow and pink polka-dotted lingerie like Charlie can. Oh man.

We made sweet love down by the fire.

Ahh, not really. And it's a damn shame too. :( 

You see, as I took my leave from the glossy green booth seat by the window, empowered by what I'd thought was a valid sign that it was a good time to proceed with my actions - dude - this giant jock-type, cleft-chinned, Mick Jagger-looking asshole comes right up in front of me and sits directly in the seat I was headed for. We're not talking the seat that happened to be next to it, or one that should have been across the room - no, this is a seat that I'd had to calculate how many steps it would take me to get to. It was right beside Charlie. And he sits in it!

Now excuse me for getting rant-happy, but if there was a good time to use the word, it's now. This is Prime Example A of your genuine cock blocker. So from now on? I'm giving this guy a new name. Mr. Cock Blocker.

What a douche.

After making a quick and embarrassing swerve of a detour away from their table ( And I just know, Mr. C gave me the stink eye ) I headed home. An entire day's worth of work and what do I get? Well, it certainly isn't Happy Time.

I think some serious music therapy will be needed to get me out of this rut of anger. I'm thinking heavy metal or... Go-Go

-Max

May 02, 2010

Ohh yeah.. Stakeout at the cafe.

So here I am. Starbucks, with a cheap Vanilla Frappuccino in hand, and the day as amazingly bright and sunny as ever. The rays are so blinding I can see my tan skin peeling and rolling back as we speak. The only thing good about this little coffee shop?

Well I'll give you a hint: It's definitely not the overpriced, dreadfully sweetened beverages they sell with syrup, caramel, and other random condiments (+ whipped cream?) all over it. And it's not the quirky part-time cashier college chick near the door either. And the green accents on every piece of furniture in here? It's not that either.

No, it's the free wi-fi.

I mean, I'm as much against paying 5 bucks for some drink sprinkled in chocolate, but I'd be the first to buy it if it means I get to sit here on the Internet as long as I'm slowly sipping it away.

The only reason I didn't go to good ol' MickeyDee's is because Charlie isn't there. She's here. I don't think she's noticed me just yet. I let things cool for the last couple days because I guess she saw me staring at her window when I got home Friday. Hey, the blinds were closed! I had to do something to try to get them open, and my Jedi mind powers were the only thing I had to fall back on! So sue me.

I didn't get a hello either, but that's fine. Maybe I'll talk to her...tomorrow? Geeze, I don't know. Maybe I need a sign....

A butterfly outside my my window. Okay, not half bad. You've got a point little butterfly.

I've got to get things out of the way anyways. If I want to get in this chick's skinny jeans by the end of the year, there's no point in waiting any longer. It's not like I'm waiting for prom or anything.

Am I?

Nahh, I want to get a lil' , not scar her for the rest of her life. Prom night's the night for all the little girls in their pink, frilly dresses. Getting a one night stand - while probably not as uncommon as I'm suggesting - isn't exactly how someone wants to end an event like that. Let someone else do it, I guess.

Well what am I waiting for! I'll check you later....blog.

I've got a Charlie to talk to.

-Max

April 30, 2010

8:37 AM

1st Period - Geometry Class

Diary,

Journal?
Blog.


Well however I want to title this thing, I've got something to say. I'm in class and, in between looking over shoulders to keep watch of peering eyes, Charlie and I surf the web aimlessly, like everyone else. Hah, no one does the work around here. You give students a screen in a computer lab and free internet connection and you want them to go to a learning site?

Hahh, fuck that.


But anyways.

Charlie's across the room flirting with another guy. Touching his leg. Laughing at a joke that absolutely wasn't funny. How many sea monkeys does it take to screw in a lightbulb? Honestly.
I wonder if she can feel me watching her - if she feels the little pin pricks on the back of that milky neck as the hair stands up on end in suspicion.

There's on thing I notice about said Charlie that I haven't noticed before. Her hair isn't naturally blonde. It's brown from the site of her roots. Very faint, though. I think she needs to take care of that. I've got priorities and bangin a brown-haired wallflower isn't one of them.

But I'm sure my Charlie will come through.

God, I feel weird typing this in class. Stalking someone in real life is a little stranger than just talking about it...

3:25 PM

Home, sweet home.

Jesus Christ, that girl walks fast. It's hard enough to trail her behind plumes of speed dust without her readjusting her bag and looking over her shoulder every five seconds. Who needs to readjust their bag so often?! Only a crazy person, that's who.

I bet she has drugs in that bag. Or guns.

Secret Agent-type shit.

But I guess this whole stalking business won't be so hard afterall, since the blonde haired lass lives next door to me. Did I forget to mention that?

I guess I did.

Every night, I play my music so loud, the other neighbors can't stand it. A couple times, we've had some knocks on our doors (be it the police or the neighbors with the balls enough to confront us themselves. The latter is few, by the way) but Charlie's family hasn't ever complained. It's so strange how people can be so tolerant of something so annoying. Maybe I'll have to play my music louder, then. I won't even listen to it - I'll just wear earplugs and let everyone else enjoy the blaring sounds of drums, guitar, and senseless screaming.

Aside from being boring people who never complain, there's one other thing that's unfortunate about living next to Charlie and her family.

You know those movies, where the dumb busty bimbo comes home from whatever place she's been to that day and decides its high time to get into some smokin' see through jammies? The woman's window is always open. No curtains or anything, and blinds wide open so the whole world can see her in her underwear through some tall or fancy mirror. It's great for artistic movie scene angles apparently (I said artistic, not original, but - hey - I'm no movie critic) but the act is still incredibly stupid.

Well, ladies and gentlemen, it seems that Charlie loses a point in the stupid category because she doesn't do that. Fortunate for her and whatever smarts she has. Unfortunate for me and the wee hours when I'm bored and... lonely.

So unfortunate.

-Max

Butterflies

There are three things I wish to do before I die:

• Write a song

• Raise Butterflies

•  and fuck Charlie

The first wish is pretty simple. I write a song, I become a famous one-hit wonder, and get a star role in a crappy movie or two simply for no other reason than to make more money before the flame of fame burns out.

I wish for the second because it's the most beautiful thing a person can do for this shit world. Raise butterflies. They're a like winged miniature angels sent to comfort and soothe us, given the chance. They hurt no one, and sometimes spread pollen so the world can be that much more beautiful. Some don't help the flowers, but they make things better by looking the way they do. Beautiful. Damn.

A garden full of butterflies is all I need.

The third wish...well that's an obvious one.

Everyone's fucked Charlie. Everyone except for me, that is. And I don't like to be out of the loop, you know? It's my personal goal to get into Charlie's pants and be the first girl around here to do so. She won't know what hit her.

Actually, I think I'm going to make that my first goal on the list. It shouldn't be too hard, I'm sure. That girl's as loose as my shoelaces.

And I don't have any shoelaces.

-Max

An Introduction

First I thought I'd post this on Mibba as a novel, but after really thinking about it, I find that turning my story idea into the format of a blogger was a much better idea.

This story, Stalking Charlie, is by no means the accounts of a real person. No, I'm not stalking anybody, but it will be written from the view point of the character.

My point in creating this story is simple. I have nothing better to do.

Stalking Charlie is the story of one girl, Maxine, who blogs about her love interest, Charlie.

The world lacks good lesbian love stories that I've heard of, so I hope to birth one into existence starting today. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy the rest of these entries to come. For I'm writing as I go. :)

Yours,

Kyana