I grew up like a little princess. I am the oldest of three girls and honestly, the most favored one in the family. I was built with confidence, love and appreciation. I was also raised in stress. My parents are politicians with big reputation. Wherever I went, people called as X’s daughter, no one knew my name and no one cared about my name or what I did. I felt like I was a part of someone’s life, and no matter how much I accomplished, I will always live in their shadows. Don’t get me wrong, I love my parents. They give me the life everyone wants, and they give me everything I want. But I know I had to do something to be on my own, be completely independent and be out of their territories.
So I came to school here, miles and miles away from home. My parents didn’t see the school until a year ago and it didn’t matter what they say about the school. When people look at my life, they see sparkles. I take crazy AP classes, I play two musical instruments incredibly, I have designers clothes and accessories, and I have friends from all different groups. But the truth is, I wish I am still that dependent naive little girl. I wish I can count on my parents for everything. I wish I am still a little princess whom the parents come to school and visit every weekend.
People think I have a perfect life, and maybe I do. Relatively, I do have a better life than a lot of people around me but there’s still something missing. I am still looking for the piece. But what I really want is to go back to 10 years ago, be a little girl just one more time.
Love,
Perri
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Friday, May 6, 2011
Chloe
Chloe is my roommate. She was one of the first people I talked to from The Hill School. She left a message on my phone and told me that she lived in Connecticut, her favorite color was pink, and she had a fish named Jeremy. We became instant best friends. She was crazy and fun and the complete opposite of me. Listening to rap music in our room, she told me that Eminem was the one person who had figured out the meaning of life. She taught my little Catholic self curse words and helped me make friends. She was mysterious and almost etherial. Chloe had a boyfriend, and several boys in line to be the next “Chloe’s boyfriend”. It was an adventure to be her roommate, because none of my relationships was anything like hers.
First there was Matthew. Matthew and Chloe had been dating for almost a year. He was from her old school. He called the room at 7:30 every night and they spoke about mushy things for a while until it was time to sleep. Chloe said they were in love. She would scribble her math homework and giggle at things he said. From my side of the room it all seemed so unreal. The only person who called me that often was my mother. It seemed too good to be true.
It was. It was a Friday night the first time that they had a blow up. I walked into the room to see chloe crying and calling Matt. It was all to no avail, he wouldn’t pick up. She turned to me, but wouldn’t tell me what happened. “We just need to talk about it,” she told me, a pleading look in her eyes. “We can’t go to sleep angry at each other.” She looked desperate and heartbroken and I didn’t know what to do. She wouldn’t stop dialing his number, she left a few messages. I sat with her and hugged her and tried my best to make her feel better. I thought Matthew was gone for good, but he would come back with a vengeance. What really happened between them is another story for another time. But that first break up was when me and Chloe really started to be friends outside of our room and she also started hanging out with me, Perri, and Sara.
Love,
Melly
First there was Matthew. Matthew and Chloe had been dating for almost a year. He was from her old school. He called the room at 7:30 every night and they spoke about mushy things for a while until it was time to sleep. Chloe said they were in love. She would scribble her math homework and giggle at things he said. From my side of the room it all seemed so unreal. The only person who called me that often was my mother. It seemed too good to be true.
It was. It was a Friday night the first time that they had a blow up. I walked into the room to see chloe crying and calling Matt. It was all to no avail, he wouldn’t pick up. She turned to me, but wouldn’t tell me what happened. “We just need to talk about it,” she told me, a pleading look in her eyes. “We can’t go to sleep angry at each other.” She looked desperate and heartbroken and I didn’t know what to do. She wouldn’t stop dialing his number, she left a few messages. I sat with her and hugged her and tried my best to make her feel better. I thought Matthew was gone for good, but he would come back with a vengeance. What really happened between them is another story for another time. But that first break up was when me and Chloe really started to be friends outside of our room and she also started hanging out with me, Perri, and Sara.
Love,
Melly
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Content Loner
I am a relationship girl. I learn to forgive people, I learn to forget people and I learn to move on. I move from relationship to relationship and I’ve never given myself enough time to enjoy someone’s company.
I like being in a relationship. Sometimes I think I like that more than I actually like the person whom I’m in that relationship with. I like being in love and I like orbiting around a person in my life. I like the last phone call before I fall asleep and I like the text messages I read in the mornings. I like telling people that I have a boyfriend, and I like those guaranteed presents on Valentine’s day. I like being hurt and I like the tears after horrible breakups. I like to see myself getting back on my feet and find someone better.
I date random guys. I used to have a checklist which I used as an evaluation when I first met a guy. But then it never worked out, because I don’t think there will be a person who meets all the criteria on my list. So I started dating random people, and I have random relationships because I was too scared to be the “single girl”, the “girl without a date” and the “loner”.
But I forget that I need to learn how to be by myself, and I need to learn how to be a loner. After my last relationship, my mom spent hours talking to me on the phone. I hate talking about relationships with my mom because she is so protective and her previous divorce experience makes her doubt all the guys around me. But she told me that I need to know how to enjoy loneliness, and I thought she was out of her mind at the moment. After couple days, couple weeks, I started to understand what my mom really meant. I need to give myself more time to figure out what I really want from a relationship and what I really want from him. If I don’t figure these out and jump straight into a relationship, I will never be truly happy. If I am only in a relationship just to be in one, it’ll never work out and I’ll never have the fairy tale ending.
Don’t be scared to be single because it gives you a chance to be available when the right person comes along.
Love,
Perri
I like being in a relationship. Sometimes I think I like that more than I actually like the person whom I’m in that relationship with. I like being in love and I like orbiting around a person in my life. I like the last phone call before I fall asleep and I like the text messages I read in the mornings. I like telling people that I have a boyfriend, and I like those guaranteed presents on Valentine’s day. I like being hurt and I like the tears after horrible breakups. I like to see myself getting back on my feet and find someone better.
I date random guys. I used to have a checklist which I used as an evaluation when I first met a guy. But then it never worked out, because I don’t think there will be a person who meets all the criteria on my list. So I started dating random people, and I have random relationships because I was too scared to be the “single girl”, the “girl without a date” and the “loner”.
But I forget that I need to learn how to be by myself, and I need to learn how to be a loner. After my last relationship, my mom spent hours talking to me on the phone. I hate talking about relationships with my mom because she is so protective and her previous divorce experience makes her doubt all the guys around me. But she told me that I need to know how to enjoy loneliness, and I thought she was out of her mind at the moment. After couple days, couple weeks, I started to understand what my mom really meant. I need to give myself more time to figure out what I really want from a relationship and what I really want from him. If I don’t figure these out and jump straight into a relationship, I will never be truly happy. If I am only in a relationship just to be in one, it’ll never work out and I’ll never have the fairy tale ending.
Don’t be scared to be single because it gives you a chance to be available when the right person comes along.
Love,
Perri
Monday, May 2, 2011
No More Love
I think I lost my faith in love.
Steve has been someone and something missing in my life. I like to talk about him with my friends, I like to think about him when I’m alone and I like to pretend that he’s still mine when I have no one around. And I know how much it hurts to have someone you love walked away from you and never turned back. Or maybe he did, I guess I would just never find out.
Steve was my boyfriend for two years. We were young and happy together. Or more like I was young. I kept it as a secret because I did not want to be judged. Steve was a sophomore in college when I was in 8th grade. He was my dad’s law student in the university and I was a little girl who went to a catholic middle/high school. I knew how protective my parents are and how our age difference would cause such a drama. However, he was the best thing that could ever happen to me. He drove to my house and walked me to school every morning, he cooked my lunch and dinner, then he picked me up from school at 11 every night. I was deeply dependent and in love and I never thought anything would change.
He took me to Jesse McCartney’s concert for my 15th birthday and he asked Jesse McCartney to sing happy birthday to me. I enjoyed all the jealousy from girls around me at the concert and I couldn’t be any happier. He hid a little diamond ring in my favorite Kinder SURPRISE. I remembered how mad I was when I thought the little chocolate egg was my only birthday present. He was the ideal boyfriend that everyone wanted. He spoiled me and made me the most special girl in the world. His smiles made my heart stop, and his kisses made me melt. It was the first and only time that I was confident enough to tell the world that I love someone with my whole heart.
Then things changed. I decided to leave home and go away for school. I was so stressed out from the school system and so disappointed in my own performance at the high school entrance exam that I just wanted to leave and never go back. He tried to hard to be happy for me and tell me that everything between us will be okay. And it was, at least in the beginning. He was so strong and mature and so comforting, but I was a little spoiled princess. I couldn’t stand the fact that I have to constantly be by myself, I couldn’t stand to watch my friends hanging out with their boyfriends, and I couldn’t stand sleeping in the infirmary at night without my mom or him. So I freaked out, I remember calling him and asked him if he still loved me. I remember yelling at him and telling him that I wasn’t happy anymore. I remember hearing his tears dropped on the other side of the phone. I remember thinking that I could find someone better and be happy without him.
And I was wrong.
God gives every girl one special man in her life. I lost the chance to be a princess. I lost the man I loved the most. I lost the person that meant everything to me. I lost faith in love because I knew I let my best chance slide away and it would never come back.
Steve has been someone and something missing in my life. I like to talk about him with my friends, I like to think about him when I’m alone and I like to pretend that he’s still mine when I have no one around. And I know how much it hurts to have someone you love walked away from you and never turned back. Or maybe he did, I guess I would just never find out.
Steve was my boyfriend for two years. We were young and happy together. Or more like I was young. I kept it as a secret because I did not want to be judged. Steve was a sophomore in college when I was in 8th grade. He was my dad’s law student in the university and I was a little girl who went to a catholic middle/high school. I knew how protective my parents are and how our age difference would cause such a drama. However, he was the best thing that could ever happen to me. He drove to my house and walked me to school every morning, he cooked my lunch and dinner, then he picked me up from school at 11 every night. I was deeply dependent and in love and I never thought anything would change.
He took me to Jesse McCartney’s concert for my 15th birthday and he asked Jesse McCartney to sing happy birthday to me. I enjoyed all the jealousy from girls around me at the concert and I couldn’t be any happier. He hid a little diamond ring in my favorite Kinder SURPRISE. I remembered how mad I was when I thought the little chocolate egg was my only birthday present. He was the ideal boyfriend that everyone wanted. He spoiled me and made me the most special girl in the world. His smiles made my heart stop, and his kisses made me melt. It was the first and only time that I was confident enough to tell the world that I love someone with my whole heart.
Then things changed. I decided to leave home and go away for school. I was so stressed out from the school system and so disappointed in my own performance at the high school entrance exam that I just wanted to leave and never go back. He tried to hard to be happy for me and tell me that everything between us will be okay. And it was, at least in the beginning. He was so strong and mature and so comforting, but I was a little spoiled princess. I couldn’t stand the fact that I have to constantly be by myself, I couldn’t stand to watch my friends hanging out with their boyfriends, and I couldn’t stand sleeping in the infirmary at night without my mom or him. So I freaked out, I remember calling him and asked him if he still loved me. I remember yelling at him and telling him that I wasn’t happy anymore. I remember hearing his tears dropped on the other side of the phone. I remember thinking that I could find someone better and be happy without him.
And I was wrong.
God gives every girl one special man in her life. I lost the chance to be a princess. I lost the man I loved the most. I lost the person that meant everything to me. I lost faith in love because I knew I let my best chance slide away and it would never come back.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
“Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.”
It was august when I filled out my application. I was scared more than anything else. Scared that I wouldn’t get in. Scared that I would get in, but not be able to afford to go. Scared that I’d go, but not like it. Scared of not making any friends or getting bad grades. Scared of leaving home, leaving my friends. More than anything I was scared because it was all so uncertain. This was the way I had always lived because of my mother. She thrived in chaos. I’d come home from school to find suitcases lined up on the front walk, and she’d announce that we were taking a vacation right now, destination unknown. Or I’d wake up one morning and the entire downstairs would be painted in new colors, the furniture rearranged, the entire house foreign. She’d sigh, “I couldn’t sleep so I was looking around the house, and I realized that the color scheme was all wrong.” Then she’d smile, “Isn’t it lucky that the paint store on the corner is open all night? They have such lovely colors, don’t they Melanie?”
So when she handed me the application and information packet that morning and written down the link for the website, it shouldn’t have surprised me. I should have been glad. I had been begging to transfer all summer. Threatening, half seriously, to get myself kicked out on purpose. Still, it was a little late to be applying, I thought. Skeptically, I looked through the website. Everything about the school drew me in more, but I was careful to squelch my excitement. There was too much risk with my mother to get completely invested in the idea of this to good to be true school. I filled out the application anyway, daring to hope. I must have done three drafts, trying to keep my desperation to get out from showing in my essay. Then I threw it away. Then I reprinted it and did it again, but gave up halfway through. I ended up finishing it the next day. I got a stamp from my mother and we put it in the mailbox together, surrendering my fate to the mailman.
Sometimes I think back to that time, and realize that that moment defined the rest of my life. I would never be the person I am now, if I hadn’t sent in that application. Taking risks can be a good thing. It’s better to try and fail, then spend the rest of your life wondering what if...
Love,
Melly
So when she handed me the application and information packet that morning and written down the link for the website, it shouldn’t have surprised me. I should have been glad. I had been begging to transfer all summer. Threatening, half seriously, to get myself kicked out on purpose. Still, it was a little late to be applying, I thought. Skeptically, I looked through the website. Everything about the school drew me in more, but I was careful to squelch my excitement. There was too much risk with my mother to get completely invested in the idea of this to good to be true school. I filled out the application anyway, daring to hope. I must have done three drafts, trying to keep my desperation to get out from showing in my essay. Then I threw it away. Then I reprinted it and did it again, but gave up halfway through. I ended up finishing it the next day. I got a stamp from my mother and we put it in the mailbox together, surrendering my fate to the mailman.
Sometimes I think back to that time, and realize that that moment defined the rest of my life. I would never be the person I am now, if I hadn’t sent in that application. Taking risks can be a good thing. It’s better to try and fail, then spend the rest of your life wondering what if...
Love,
Melly
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Boy Drama in an All-Girls School
An all-girls environment has been a constant and comfortable setting in my life, at least that’s what I thought. Going through music school where there were only 5 guys in the whole student body, Catholic middle school and now a tiny all-girls school in Massachusetts it’s what I’ve always known. I have forgotten why I chose to attend an all-girls school... Drama free? No. Sexist free? No. So why? Every sunday brunch, girls giggling texting under the table, boys’ names floating ear to ear, and also inevitably, anger and annoyance. We have one chance to see boys, or say “decent boys”. These guys wear suits and ties to school, shop at J.Crew and get drunk in their rooms. I like well-dressed boys who know how to present themselves and how to look good; I like boys who come from a good background and receive decent education. I enjoy random hook-ups once a while and a little crazy hallucination and spontaneity. However, I believe, deep down inside in every girl’s heart, we all want a relationship that makes everyone jealous. I want to be that girl who people stalk on facebook because I have a perfect boyfriend who writes on my wall regularly and tells me how much he loves me. But it never works out, I guess it’s just not for me. I’m too needy and dependent, I present myself as an empowered and rational girl when deep down I am just as clueless as everyone else. I tried, for almost three years, and now I got to the point when I realized that I just need to stop trying and let it come to me. I hate the girls who wonder around campus desperately counting down to each Saturday so they can see boys. I hate to see girls going around a boys school and vice versa. To a certain point in life, I think the boundary should be very clear and there’s always a fine line between having fun and stepping on someone’s toes.
What good does it do to hook up with your friend’s ex?
What good does it do to have relationships with two guys who are roommates?
What good does it do to have sex in a bathroom in a movie theatre?
High school might be a relatively carefree place, and I do believe in having fun and making the best out of your life. But we are girls, not trying to be sexist, we are more sensitive and more vulnerable emotionally. Always remember, your real friends have your backs no matter what so please don’t hurt them, especially when it comes to boys. You go to an all-girls school so try and make some girl friends. What about those fake friends? I’d say go ahead and screw them then.
Love,
Perri
What good does it do to hook up with your friend’s ex?
What good does it do to have relationships with two guys who are roommates?
What good does it do to have sex in a bathroom in a movie theatre?
High school might be a relatively carefree place, and I do believe in having fun and making the best out of your life. But we are girls, not trying to be sexist, we are more sensitive and more vulnerable emotionally. Always remember, your real friends have your backs no matter what so please don’t hurt them, especially when it comes to boys. You go to an all-girls school so try and make some girl friends. What about those fake friends? I’d say go ahead and screw them then.
Love,
Perri
Friday, April 22, 2011
The First Post
Before we jump into the land of blogging. Perri and I would like to introduce ourselves. We're both juniors in high school, an all-girls school on a hill. We board there, and it has become our home. I'm from a smaller state and live in a quaint suburban town. Perri is from another country, where she went to an intense music school before coming to America. Our friends, who you will soon hear all about, are Sarah, Chloe, and Lyra. You'll hear about other friends, friends from home that Perri and I will explain as they come into the picture. What we look like will have to be up to your imaginations. Our story will be told in retrospect, but might be out of order at times. We've experienced all kinds of situations, the good, bad, and the ugly. We want to share our joys and sorrows, but mostly learn from our mistakes.
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