Bedtime Story ONE

One day at school, we were all sitting in the atrium, just because that is a nice and cosy place to sit and we didn’t have class. I’m sure that Lot, Maria, Enrieke and Steven were there. And Len, of course, because I was happy to be with my boyfriend for once, al though I wasn’t quite sure if he was happy to be with me, he acted kinda grumpy. But that didn’t stop me from cuddling with him, because he’s always grumpy lately.
Anyways, we were just talking and laughing when Nicole walked by, our quite young Dutch teacher, who told us about something called ‘School paper Day’. We were instantly enthusiastic. I love our school paper, I try to write as much as possible. I have a column in every issue, and often I write something different of my own as well.
“And there are competitions, like: best lay-out, best interview, best column..” she said.
“Oh, then we can send in Tessa’s column!” my boyfriend shouted immediately.
I was shocked.
“How nice of you,” I mumbled, actually fighting to please-not-cry.
My boyfriend didn’t notice anything and went on babbling about School paper Day, but my bestie Lot saw my despair and said: “I want to go to the c1000 (= supermarket).”
Thankful, I said: “I’m coming with you,” and we both went downstairs, while I was wiping the tears of my face, angry at myself for being such a cry baby again.
“That was mean,” I said. Writing is obviously one of my biggest passions. Maybe you could call it my über biggest passion.
“Yes,” she agreed, “that was incredibly rude.”
While we walked to the c1000, we tried to think of revenge. My boyfriend does ice skating and he plays the guitar.
“Let’s say to Len.. ‘One day I was talking to my dad, and he asked me: ‘Im, do you know any good ice skaters?’ So I said: ‘No. Why?’” Lot said. I laughed my ass off, because I was pissed.
“That’s mean, but funny,” I said. In the c1000 they of course played the song ‘Ren Lenny Ren’, which I’ve truly heard only once in my life, and I guess it’s the only song with the word ‘Len’ in it.
We bought huge chocolate thingies, because I wanted to squish them in Lens face soo badly. At school, everyone came by to steal a Choco. Len still hadn’t notice anything weird about me, so he also begged for chocolate. Mean as I was, I didn’t give him one, and I confronted him with what he said. He actually thought it was quite a normal comment, but when he saw how angry and sad I was, he became sad himself too. That’s one thing I can’t cope with, so I forgave him, but I still wanted to squish choco in his face. He didn’t let me do it. I did tell him the ice skating-story though, but he wasn’t quite impressed. I am not looking forward to School paper Day, as you could already guess.

The End.

Breakfast at three

Britney shaved her hair off. Big deal? Obviously. I wish I could say that I am not affected by the media at all, but apparently I am. Without really knowing it does affect me in quite a negative way. The problem is, I don’t eat well. I think I’m weighing myself almost everyday, and it’s always the same. Almost underweight. I once did a test online to check if I was underweight, and when I was, I pretended to be pretty upset. But actually, in my head it feels like a little triumph. And when people kept saying I was so thin, it didn’t feel that bad either. I don’t know why this all is happening, I mean, I do not want to look like a skeleton, like Nicole Richie and all those rich bitch it-girls. I really don’t, she looks so terribly unhealthy and bony..
But still, I eat, well, not much. In the holidays it’s the worst, I get up at ten or twelve or in between and at three I eat my first meal. Yeah. I know it’s unhealthy, but I don’t feel like eating things, and when I get hungry (because I do) I just ignore it. Most of the time it’s also because I’m such a high-maintenance person and I don’t like sandwiches, so I would have to make something like an egg or eye-bread (don’t ask me now, but it’s delicious), which takes a while to make, and I’m an incredibly lazy-ass. Which means I eat my “breakfast” at tea-time and at dinner I eat less than I normally would, because I’ve just eaten. I somehow also feel good when I can ignore my hunger, as if I don’t need food to survive.
That doesn’t mean that when I do eat, I eat healthy. Lots of cup-a-soup (which is really salt) and when I get the chance, lots of chocolate. I am a salad-junkie though.. and I do like fruit, honestly, but I never eat it. I have no idea why. Writing this down, I feel plain stupid. I mean, I know what my problems are, but I don’t change them, and I know I’m not going to in the near future. Even if I’ve acknowledged my problems. God, I’m so selfish. People in poor countries would do anything for food and I’m starving myself out of free will.
Somehow the pressure to look thin is around, even in our not-so-USA country. I would love to have a smaller butt and thinner legs, but I also know how I look is alright and healthy, and I’m already thin, but it keeps following me. Plus, I would love to have some muscles, because now, I have absolutely none. Which means I would have to do a sport, and sometimes I love doing sport, because the feeling after you’ve done it is soo wonderful, I feel so healthy after sporting.. but the lazy-ass in me refuses. Some people notice my un-sporty-ness, which erhm, kinda makes me want to be thinner, though I know it’s my un-sporty-ness that concerns them and not how thin I am.
It’s hard for me to write this down, because somehow it makes me feel guilty and selfish and stupid and shallow. Yes. You lot asked for a new post, and here it is, a little more personal than usual. Good luck convincing me I have to eat more.

Futuristic

I am so bloody curious what my future will look like. Well, not only mine, but also my friends’ futures.. What will we become? Will be still be as prettyful as we are now? Okay, of course we can never lose our gorgeousness, do not stress about that. We’ll probably only become more sexy, some of us will finally grow some curves (just kidding, don’t fight me) and some of us will get incredibly thin because they’ll be on drugs. And we’ll have huge butts, though we are already complaining about that now, even some guys. I’m not telling which guy. Yes, I always fear for my butt, because when I now complain about it, Older People (aged 25 and over) always laugh at me and say that I have nothing to complain about. So it must be true that all women get huge butts when they’re older.
Now, about our professions, I have noooo idea what we’ll become. It’s so hard! I mean, some people know exactly what they can and can’t and what they like and dislike, but you can never be sure about what you’ll become. Now I think I’ll do ‘something’ with language and writing, but maybe I’ll become a stewardess. Which would of course be very odd because I’m afraid of heights, but whatever. About the others.. Maria will do something outside, where she has to do a lot, instead of some boring glued-to-chair job. Lot.. Lot’s difficult, because she has no idea herself. She’ll either do something outside, like Maria, but with chemicals and difficult science-stuff, or something like law or anything else where you have to wear fancy clothes. Steven, definitely something with theatre, maybe director or even actor. Marls will do something with charity and animals, but she’ll still be classy, so maybe she’ll look after left-alone seals in a Chanel suit. Eug will have her own horsey ranch in another country, where she’ll say ‘yeehaaa’ a lot to annoy her neighbours. Len is also difficult, but I like to think of him doing some tough but intelligent job, like all the peoples in CSI. Or something with sport and anatomy. Anna will either be a ballerina or I don’t know what. Anna can’t possibly be unlinked with ballet. Xan will travel A LOT, but I don’t know what she’ll do. She’ll just meet loads of new people and visit tons of countries.
And then about marriage, children, that sort of things. Will I get married, or will I not? If I get married, I don’t want a traditional wedding with a white gown, but something unique, in another country.. And I want it to be fun, not stiff. Children.. well, I don’t know. You can’t actually say if you want children when you’re this young. No, Len, you can’t. You’ll change your opinion again and again when you grow older, probably. But I think I will eventually get children, because I’m just.. the right person to have children. I don’t know, but it suits me.
And you, parents, don’t laugh at me. I know I don’t know what I’m saying, but I’m only trying to be clever so please let me stay in my role. I want children who make blogs as well, children who are incredibly smart and beautiful and have huge personalities. But well, I don’t know. And I won’t know for sure until I’m at least twenty-eight.