HIYA:)

Heyyy heyyy everyone! Well, to those like 3 people…HOW YOU DOING (Joey’s way) ?!

It’s almost a MONTH since I’ve started High School…And believe me it’s been the most WEIRDEST and UNUSUAL weeks in my whole life!

Let’s start off with my homies in the bus. Every morning from Monday to Friday the little bus picks us up around 6:50 AM….YES I KNOW! YOU CAN CLEARLY SEE THE DRIVER IS NOT A WOMAN!!!! Anyways, the freakiest people inhabit this bus. There’s this Japanese guy who’s NOT Japanese, he says, but AMERICAN who speaks English, Spanish, Japanese (EXPERTLY), French and POSH. Yes, POSH. When he’s in a random mood (always) and you speak to him like a posh he’ll answer back like a pro. Not to mention he is the PERVIEST guy really. I so WILL NOT post his jokes. He bullies us, so we bully him back. We go like ”HEYY!! CAN YOU DO THIS?!” and make our eyes look MASIVE, because we’re able to and he’s Japanese so he can’t. It’s funny though that his mom became a fan of Mexican food. So there’s ALWAYS tacos instead of sushi in his house. If I were his girlfriend I’d dump him. He is so NOT normal that once I was sitting with my legs crossed on the bus and he just poked them and then SHOUTED: ”EWWW YOU HAVE HAIR ON YOUR LEGS!!!!!” and ”YOU DIDN’T SHAVEEEE TUT TUT TUT!!!” I could only think ”QUIT TUTTING YOU TUTTING IDIOT!!!” but said with dignity ”They’re small, they’re just growing” But try telling that to a Japanese guy and see if he stops. Next on the bus comes this little, short dude who’s half wolf. He is so HAIRY. I want to shave off those hairs on his legs (no, I’m NOT a perv, he showed them to me). Once, he and the Japanese guy threatened me with his legs. That’s how dangerous they are. He also threatened us with his DEODORANT. But we threw it out the window so….HURRAHH!!! THE WORLD’S SAFE!!!!!!!!!!! Next comes a kid who does look like a kid…AND LIKE JUSTIN BEIBER! Just his face though…He doesn’t appreciate my work of art I did on his shoelaces…instead of making them cross-like I know a way of making them look straight like stripes. BUT NO! He says they look GAY, which in my opinion is RIDICULOUS. The other girls and I have to defend ourselves with these GORILLAS. The driver HATES us. He shows it by NEVER stopping the bus at OUR stop. He just goes on and you have to yell at him to stop. So he does, like 10 minutes from the stop. So we have to walk. Which is not always fun at 36 degrees C.

Next, come the teachers. In my old school, there was a Canadian invasion. ALL (well, most of) the teachers HAD to be from Canada. You can clearly see why because our principal was Canadian. So we were used to good English. But now….IT’S JUST PLAIN PATHETIC. Most of them don’t know how to write…REALLY. NOT A JOKE. And their accent is just….I don’t wanna go in there. I thought this was a GOOD school but NO. The math teacher is TERRIFIED of cats. A girl asked if we could use folders instead of binders and the teacher asked her to show it. The folder had a VERY cute picture of kittens. But instead of going ”AWW!!” like any normal person would she just jumped. She’s SO scared of cats that when she crosses the street, instead of looking out for cars she looks out for CATS. Besides, she gives us homework of stuff WE DON’T KNOW. And she gave almost the whole class a fat 0 because we didn’t write our heading as it was supposed to. And it was our first homework. Which she didn’t explain. Still, the German teacher is a LAUGH. She’s very sweet and all, but she talks like the lady from Google Translate. Heehee. And she never pays attention of what’s really going on in the class. For instance, I became an expert of facial hair. Right now I’m in LUURVE with the MOUSTACHE. So during German I find ways with my hair to make it look REAL and so that it stays there without you having to hold it. I’m such a pro that I now can have a MOUSTACHE, BEARD, AND AN ONLY EYEBROW at the SAME time!!! And she doesn’t notice, tipico. Because it’s the last class, I’m ALWAYS in a random mood. For me, instead of German it’ll now be FRENCH. So instead of nodding and saying ”Ja” like a German I just say from the bottom of my heart ”Oui” AND SHE DOESN’T NOTICE. 

I LOVEEEEE my class. I wouldn’t change it for ANYTHING! It’s sosososo much fun hanging out and talking with them! They’re the only normal people in the building.

I HATEEEE the ants. HATEHATEHATEHATE them. I went to a dance audition (which was RIDICULOUS due to the fact that we only warmed up and the FAT man only chose random girls) and I was rejected because I’m not able to jump and make a split at the same time. That’s why there’s discrimination. At least I don’t have WEIGHT problems. They were held at the college, which is like a five-minute walk from the High School. I walked back adn just sat at the main stairs like a thing that’s sitting. Then I felt like my arm was burning and next thing IT WAS FULL OF ANTS!!! STUPID ARM-BITTING ANTS!!! I was tempted to scream and jump like any girl would but I had to keep a good reputation so I just shoved them away. Not the people, the ants. My arm began swelling up  and itch but I REFUSED to scratch. Next morning, they looked like PIMPLES. Oui, PIMPLES. Why can’t ants just bite and get on with it? Not make it look like pimples. But, oh no, they had to put a little cherry on top on their masterpiece. A friend had little bandages (THANK GOD!) in her bag so I asked her for one and she said ”It’s only for an emergency” but when I showed her my arm, next thing she had a little bandage on her hand. Everyone kept asking what happened to my arm because of the bandage, so I just answered ”I was eaten by ants” and they just looked at me weirdly, not believing it. WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE DONE UNBITTEN PEOPLE?! Hum.

School tomorrow, same place same time. BRING IT ON GOD!

Ooohkay guys and girls…here’s the inside story of the most random, weird and uncommon holidays in a teenage girl’s life.

If you don’t have any idea what I’m talking about, you might as well click on the other post called ”Let the chaos begin” or just continue reading this even though you could get confused.

The trip from my hometown to South Padre Island usually takes 4 hours or so. But after what’s happened (insecurity and Alex<—not a person the hurricane) it took 8 hours. EIGHTTTTTT! But to fulfill time, my cousin and I made a concert at the backseat of my car. Our songs consisted of ”Wannabe” form Spice Girls, Shakira’s ”Waka waka”, Beegees’ ”Stayin’ Alive” and more silly songs. We would sing at the top of our lungs and trying to dance (in a small space between suitcases) and making faces at people on passing cars. Inmature, I know, but aren’t inmatures the people who ALWAYS have a good time?  So there we were singing ”Shut up and let me go” when the car stopped. We were in a line to cross the border to the U.S when a man selling dried shrimp saw our ”lovely” performance and thought we were actually telling him to come so we could buy some of his shrimp. 

When we got to the hotel, I have to say it wasn’t exactly a luxury. We waited the elevator for ages, carrying incredibly huge suit cases (who said you can light travel?) with NO AIR. CONDITIONER. NOTHING. And the heat was just too intense…might as well boiled an egg right there. Not exaggerating. It affected my dad so much, he started pressing the elevator button as if it would save his life. Which in an ironic way it did, because he was pressing the ”Emergency” button for the firefighters. 

We met a little American girl at the beach whose name was…Katelin…I think…Anyways we were chilling in the sea when she had an outburst of ”IMMA SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!” Which in my opinion, isn’t normal. She just ”jumped” (crashed better) the waves shrieking again and again that she was a sheep. Who clearly wasn’t. 

At night, we liked to run free around EVERYWHERE (in the hotel, you tarts, not the world). Mainly because the excitement of 12 kids together was really massive. We ended up in the 11th floor, otherwise known as the ”VIP” floor. It had glass doors and everything, with idiotic Target or Wallmart decorations outside of beach stuff. Once door even had a keyboard thing to press some numbers for a password. We decided (obviously any kid would do it) to try to unlock it but just as we pressed the first number, the whole keyboard thing turned red and a little alarm made its way through the WHOLE hotel. So we did what anyone else would do (except my mum): RUNNNN. We ran eight whole floors down, until we got to the pool in the third floor. We were so desperate, I couldn’t even open the stupid door. When a guy suddenly came out the shadows (literally). He had the longest eyelashes ever known to humanity. Any girl would have envied him there and then. He tried to help me, but the door wouldn’t budge. He was American because he spoke in English. Someone form the pool had to open the door for us and my cousins rushed in, almost knocking out the poor soul who had the misfortune to open the door. The guys left as fast as they got in, while the girls stayed behind. The guy with the long eyelashes just splashed in the pool when my sister had the wonderful idea to talk to him. But worse yet, my cousin spoke first. With a really bad accent (on purpose). Still, she was representing our country. Badly.  She asked him his name and he said ”Brandon” like any normal person would, but my cousin just called him ”Random”. He was 17. We started talking and found out that he painted his toe nails once. Even once is terrifying. He just kept rambling on about sports and stuff when suddenly he said ”I bet you noticed the color of my eyes”. Yo blondie, a) WE’RE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO KNOW IN THE DARK!!! and b) Why would we notice? We just mumbled something; ”eeermm..light?” mostly. Even though he looked like literally a Ken doll from a Barbie house, he was odd. He was tanned and beach-blond, but still his face was just…funny. His mouth was HUGE with massive white teeth. He’d get in a toothpaste commercial by just smiling. And let’s not forget the eyelashes. After a century of talking about himself, my mum and my aunt saved us by popping up saying they had been looking for us. As my sister and I headed upstairs, Brandon suddenly appeared behind us and said, ”do I get a hug?”. My sister’s reaction was to run away but she didn’t fearing it might look odd. Any teenage girl’s reaction would just stand there and gap, deciding wether or not to hug a cute guy. But I, stupidly enough, understood ”hug” for ”mug”. So I just nodded, confused really. Why would he want a mug? But thankfully, I think my mind did got the ”hugging” part because I just pushed my sister down the stairs. While she struggled to get up, Brandon just smiled and walked away.

The day after, we were in the sea. But we were VERY random. So random, that we started calling a kid not more than 14 years old (we didn’t really know) Samuel. He was your typical American boy, tanned with blond hair and (let’s not forget!!!) blue sporty-type sunglasses. THEY ALWAYS WEAR THOSE! He was really confused at first, thinking we were calling someone else. But he got SCARED as he saw my cousin (the same one who called Brandon ”Random”) wave her arms frantically with those huge eyes she has and making her way (or trying to) towards him. He just swam away. Scarred for life, I guess. 

That night, the boys were chilling out in the balcony. NOT. Obviously they were doing something mischevious. And that, was spilling water at the balcony below. At some people. Some big, furry American people. Some big, furry, American VERY ANGRY people. They started shouting bad words and kept on saying ”YOUUU SPILLED WATER ON MY WIFEEEEEEE!!!!!” as if we committed a crime’s worth of death. Which in my humble opinion was too exaggerated. Next thing we know, someone’s knocking (or punching) the door. My grandma, the poor victim, opened it to reveal one of the big furry, American VERY ANGRY guys. He was very muscled, tattooed and all. He started yelling at her, mostly spitting. But my gran didn’t know English. So she just smiled and nodded as the guy continued to blurt bad words and how spilling his wife was not nice. In the end, gran sensed something was wrong. So she sent the kids to talk to the big guy and he made them say sorry. That was their crime’s death punishment.

We always met people in the elevator. Even though it stank. HORRIBLY. Of sand and wet dog. There were actual dogs in our hotel. We liked to press on all buttons and just see what kind of people were staying and just talk to them, or just pretend we were form Ukrania and speak in gibberish, making them think we were actually foreign. Once, we were  in the elevator stopping on every floor when a maintenance guy came in. He just gagged at all the buttons glowing red, meaning we had pressed them all. Then he stared at us, obviously blaming us. We just made our most innocent faces and exasperated ones as we sighed ”I know, I hate it too when other people press on all the buttons”. Amazingly, the maintenance guy believed us. He was rambling on how he had to fix the other elevator because of it stopped working because of pressing all the buttons. In the end he said ”Why aren’t kids like you, well-behaved?” Pfft, as if. 

In our last day, we met two other American girls. They were really nice and sweet. Obviously they were blondes. Turns out they were catching fish, and they did caught A LOT. I didn’t know fish could make really great pets. They even played death, thinking we were fools and we’d let them in the sea. But later we found out some were actually dead, so we made a serious funeral ceremony for two fish. One died because it had eaten a lot of TURKEY HAM. That’s how they caught them, with turkey ham. It choked on eating turkey ham. A fish. The other died of claustrophobia. It’s last minutes were spent by swimming frantically from one side to another inside our blue bucket. And usually crashing. 

Brandon scared us all, by just popping out. Even the American girls though he was odd. Until he said to me ”Meet me at the pool at nine thirty”. That set them off with the usual sing song ”ANDREA AND BRANDON SITTING ON A TREE, K I S S I N G!!!!!”

The day we were leaving (and no, I didn’t met him last night because he didn’t show up so I didn’t either) my cousins were in the elevator with the whole family, our last ride for the summer. When suddenly it stopped and the doors swung open, revealing a scared-looking kid gapping at my crazy cousin. Samuel. She had a sudden ”SAMUEEEEEEL!!!!” attack when the poor kid just stared not blinking. I even have sympathy for him. She IS crazy after all. 

So that’s my lovely holiday with the WHOLE family on my mum’s side. Which is HUGE and INSANE. Summer’s end was the most unexpected anyone could have.