Maybe this is me!

Being only seventeen, not a lot of people believe in you, or your power. They say they do, but honestly they still see you as a child. But even though so many people still see me that way, one person did not.... my mother. She believed in me enough to help me start up a small etsy shop. She took me to the bank to open a checking account. I deposited all of my money. We opened a P.O. Box and a PayPal account. I posted almost everything I've made....and in just a few short hours 28 people have seen it. Nothing sold.....yet, but hey! It's a start.

Thank You mom.....You mean the world to me. You've pushed me to do the things you knew I could.

http://www.etsy.com/shop/PeuAgneau?ref=search_shop_redirect

An apology to those who deserve it.

With only a week left of my junior year of high school I can feel the anxiety setting in, slowly but surely. My hands shake, and when I'm confronted with why i use the ever-so-popular "Oh, I just didn't eat breakfast this morning and my blood sugar is low."
And to top it off, I've lost the person I considered my "best friend" for the majority of my life, and still I have no one to run to. I'm everyone else's lifeline, but where is mine when I need it? Wheres my giant net under the tight rope? I know exactly where, under everyone else's feet while they're safely sitting on their rope taking a breather. "Go forward! It only gets easier." I scream to everyone while my arms are flailing about trying to regain my balance.

Right now, the only person I can depend on is me. I have to encourage myself to move forward and not let the girl with the non existent confidence push me down. I'm better than that, better than her. Better than her boyfriend who tries to ruin my life.

I'm sorry me. I apologize for letting things come before myself. If people want to talk, let them. Just know, in your hardest times you will alway be ten times the person they will ever be at their best. 

Essays, Essays everywhere.

Another last minute essay written, And now a 20 minute long presentation due in less that 2 weeks. Exams, exams, exams! Turn in this, turn in that.
Since when did the end of school become the most difficult part of the year? Oh wait, I remember. When I began HIGH SCHOOL. DUM DUM DDDUUMMM
I remember when end of the year meant taking the stupid practice SATS and then you really didn't have to anything, but now that real life is creeping closer everything is getting to be so much more difficult. You have to make sure your grades are tip top so maybe, just maybe you can get into a good college and hopefully you can get out with a little less debt consumed years.
Maybe it's just me, but the stress of school and jobs and all that stuff has seemed to control our lives a little more and more and the instant you have to start planning for college it seems like all of your friends suddenly turn into droing zombies , but instead of "argggg" as their vocabulary staple it all turns into a mish-mash of the words money, debt, scholarships, A.C.T., S.A.T, college, school, real world.
And then you see that their grades and school have become so necessary to their life that their basic needs for human survival and sanity have been pushed to the side. Sleep? Who needs that when you have a seven page essay on The Grapes of Wrath due in 3 days even though you had no time to read it because of the Calculus test you have yet to study for because of the Club meetings you HAD to go to.
And in the middle of all of this you can start to hear you hair fry, and your bones grow weak. Your eyes start to droop more and more. Your school work is now more important than you because you're so terrified that if you don't do every single thing than its just a mental health day from living on the street. You teachers grow angrier at the students that decide to nothing, telling then that their not going anywhere because they can't even manage to put a pen to paper. They embed the ideas into your brain that if you even miss one assignment then you're standing straight on the path of becoming a nobody.
Maybe we should sit down. Look at yourself in your mirror that you have no time to clean because of the stacks of AP Government homework. Just look. You're a teenager. You are not a piece of homework, or and essay. You are a person, a person that is tired, and stressed. A person that needs to take the time to say "No, I'll turn that essay in one day late."
You must realize that you can't please everyone. You must put yourself first sometimes. Before the school work and the after school clubs and sports and realize that you have needs. Needs that need to be met like a good nights sleep, or an actual meal.
Your mental sanity and personal health is way more important than any sheet of paper.

It's a man's world, baby.

"What if all women were bigger than you? And thought that they were smarter? What if women were the ones who started wars? What if too many of your friends had been raped by women wielding giant dildos and no K-Y Jelly?What if the state trooper who pulled you over on the New Jersey Turnpike was a woman and carried a gun? What if the ability to menstruate was the prerequisite for most high paying jobs? What if your attractiveness to women depended on the size of your penis? What if every time women saw you they'd hoot and make jerking motions with their hands? What if women were always making jokes about how ugly penises are and how bad sperm tastes? What if you had to explain what's wrong with your car to a big sweaty woman with greasy hands who stared at your crotch in a garage where you are surrounded by posters of naked men with hard ons? What if men's magazines featured cover photos of fourteen year old boys with socks tucked into the front of their jeans and articles like: "How to tell if your wife is unfaithful  or "What your doctor won't tell you about your prostate." or "the truth about impotence "? What if the doctor who examined your prostate was a woman and called you "Honey"? What if you had to inhale your boss' stale cigar breath as she insisted that sleeping with her was part of the job? What if you couldn't get way because the company dress code required you to wear shoes designed to keep you from running? And what if after all that women still wanted you to love them?"
-For the Men Who Still Don't Get It, Carol Diehl

Laughter is the only drug I need

When you're in highschool there's usually one thing that you always hear about. No, it isn't the work that's due the next day. It's who's doing what drug.
In my small town there are very few things that are available to do without driving almost an hour away, and because of that most of the teenagers have turned to drugs. While I don't exactly agree with it, I've smoked here and there, but I never found it very appealing. Most of the time I did it so I could escape for just a moment. But then I sat down and thought about it. Why did I stop? Because I became someone completely different. I wasn't a terrible person, I just wasn't me.
Since I've stopped I've been so happy. I've found a wonderful man, my grades have improved and I've gained so many friends. But some of my friends are still into it. For example, last night my boyfriend calls me and told me what was happening to one of our friends. He had taken around 10 pills, no one is really sure. But he spent all night in the bathroom, puking, and when he finished he couldn't even stand up. He gets everything from his girlfriend who also doesn't like it but says she does it to make him happy.
We're all going to get together and talk to them soon, hopefully to make them realize what is really happening.
Maybe everyone will realize whats going on. 

Untitled

This will be short. This will be sweet, well not so much.
I hate school at times. Just thought you should know.
From chemistry with people who just don't seem to understand but yet can't seem to take the time to put their phone down.
To the forced poetry that I can't seem to finish because it isn't from me.

SIGH. Oh life, please look up. 

Four letters.

The word LOVE has suddenly become so cliche in the life of a teenager. So often you can hear the simple word reverberate through the off-white walls in the florescent lit hallways of the ever so boring place called high school. Girls collapsing because her boyfriend just sent her a text message that tells her "we need to talk". "He was the one!" she screams. But just last week she was holding hand with a different boy. Who really knows when the puppy love of high school is really true something that will last? Does it have to start with a grand gesture? Or maybe something simple like a red dress and a tray of brownies?

Is there really any way to gauge how long a relationship last or is it all a game of chance? Are you tying yourself to a spinning wheel and letting the other person toss the knifes, hoping and praying that their coordination is intact, just closing your eyes and trusting that their knife won't pierce your heart.

Yeah, its true. He elbowed me in the ear
on the day he asked me out.
Smooth move (:

My answer: You can't plan when it comes to love. If you write a play in your head of what it's going to be like you're always going to be let down. Life, love and people are unpredictable, and that's okay. Unpredictable leads to surprises, good and bad. While you may hate the bad parts of life, remember, without difficult days how would you ever learn to appreciate the good days. Little things are the ones that make everything so special. Like when the boy you like rides a roller coaster with you and you're both so mind numbingly nervous because you've no idea what to say, and while he may elbow you in the ear on accident it's pretty much guaranteed that you'll never forget that day.
But then again, how do you KNOW when it's real. Is it when you feel comfortable with the person?When the person who never lets anyone see her without makeup will spend the day with her boyfriend in pajamas and chap-stick? Are you truly in love when you start to become fearless? When you feel like you can concur the world, but only with them by your side?
Here's that only thing I know for damn sure: I have absolutely no idea when it's real, true love. Like I said before, it's unpredictable. When you start to feel blind just grab your cane and keep on walking, because even though its uber-chiche, love is blind. You're never going to be able to plan exactly what's going to happen. Just learn to except the fact and practice walking with your eyes closed. Be prepared when you fall and scrape your knees, and if your lucky, you'll have someone there who will help you up, pat off your bum, kiss your boo boos and push you forward.
Happy travels.