Experience

   My desk is so messy. It’s covered in pencils, hair pins/ties, papers, and books. What can I say? I’m not that clean of person. Take my room for example; clothes are everywhere and have about two cups in here that I drank out of almost…what is it…two weeks ago? I guess the fact is I’m not messy nor am I unorganized, I’m just lazy.
   My ideal dream job is just to be a writer, traveling the world and making books that people will adore. For them to escape their realities of their hard life to come into a world that makes them laugh, smile, cry, and feel emotions of excitement, love, and a bond to the main character. I feel that I can get my dream job if I wanted to, first I’ll just need money. Hence why I need a job.
   Where the hell are those applications? Awe here they are, right under the pile of anime drawings I was working on last week.
   There’s one for McDonalds, one for Carl’s Junior, and the rest I applied for it online. But what’s the point anyways? I’ve been applying for jobs since the tenth grade and I have yet to be hired. I want to blame it on illegal immigrants. They come into the US to find jobs with most of them being minimum wage and in doing so they don’t see how they are destroying the economy. I personally believe that they are causing our unemployment crisis but hey, that’s just my opinion. It’s not like I hate them or anything.
   Everyone is asleep in my house. My mom is past out in her mattress in the living room and my brother is dead in his room and it’s only twelve in the afternoon. Who the hell cares where my step dad is.
   I need to go and drop these applications off. I’m not a negative person, so I won’t be negative in thinking that I won’t get hired, the only thing I need is a positive mind and I’ll make it through.
   When I exit the house, I notice movers bringing things to the upstairs apartment from me; I’m down below. Looks like new people are moving in. hopefully they’re not like the last people who moved in here. The walls are so thin that every time the sex I heard everything; every moan, every cry, every pound on the floor from the bed. It was kind of annoying but once I turned on the TV everything was good.
   As I come into the parking lot, walking towards me is a very handsome guy. His eye are blue, his hair short and dark, he’s tall and tan, everything about him is gorgeous. Especially the way he’s dressed, in kacky shorts that went a little about his knees, a plain white V neck, and black framed nerd glasses. I love my geeky boy.
   “Excuse me; did you want to say something? You’re staring at me with an open mouth and I think you’re drooling a little.” He’s smiling, standing so close, a little too close.
   I step back, blushing. I’m so embarrassed. “No, it’s nothing.” I try to look him in the eyes. Damn I might turn away, he’s just too cute! “Was I really staring though? I didn’t notice it myself, sorry I didn’t mean to.”
   “It’s nothing to be sorry about,” he laughs, “And I was just kidding. My name is Zach, I just moved here from the East Coast so I’m a little new.”
   We shake hands. “Oh that’s cool. I’m Charlie by the way.”
   “Charlie? Is it short for something?”
   “Charlotte.”
   “That’s a cute name; you’re the first Charlie I know.”
   “That means you can’t forget me,” I giggle. Oh shit I’m flirting now. “Um I have to go.” I show him the applications. “I have to go get a job.”
   “Okay, but uh you think I could come by house so you can tell me a few things to do here, in Riverside that’s fun?”
   What? Am I dreaming? This hot guy wants to hang out with me? “Uh, yah, I actually live right under you, so come by anytime. Actually, text me because sometimes nobody hears the door.”
   I give him my number and then scurry off. I’m happy right now. I keep replaying what just happened in my head. Zach, Zach, Zach, you’re so cute!

   Turning in those applications was torture. It’s like be polite, stand in line, when you get to the top ask for the manager, hand him your application, exchange a few comments, and then leave. Sigh…it’s not like a need a job. I have so many grants for college that I have extra money to spend so a job is just unnecessary, but I want a job experience so it’s not all a waist. Plus I need more extra money. For my sophomore year in college I’m planning on going to Japan to study for a year. I want to get out of this boring place and experience life away from my comfort zone. Go have sex for the first time, of course after I meet someone special. Or I can just have a one night stand and experience a rush, a thrill; then again, I think I should wait a while before I do that.
   I haven’t had a boyfriend since the eighth grade. Sure freshman year and a little bit of sophomore year I played around with him again, but still, it’s not like we were boyfriend and girlfriend, just friends with benefits. Gosh, I feel like I haven’t kissed someone in so long that I forgot how to kiss. And I feel like I’m day dreaming so much about fantasies of me and a hot guy that I believe I am actually sexually frustrated. I’m only eighteen, I’m not suppose to feel this way.
   And HELL NO am I going to masturbate.

Just Wait For Me

   I come into my home to see my mom behind the kitchen counter. She is washing the dishes. I feel bad now. She always asks me to do the dishes but I never do it even though I have nothing else to do since its summer.

   “Hi momma,” she says, “Where did you go?”
   I put my keys on the living room T.V, “I went to McDonalds with Angie.”
   Who?
   “Who,” She asks.
   I knew she was going to ask that. She always does. You would think that after the five years that Angie has been my friend maybe she would remember her name already. It's pretty annoying, it’s like she doesn’t care enough to remember. “Angie, my dark skin black friend who’s skinnier than ever?”
   “Oh her.”
   Now my brother comes out from his room to put his dishes in the sink. He always eats on the computer while he watches anime. Well I do too since we don’t have a dinning room table.
   “Hey, where did you go with my car? You better not have gone far. I don’t have a lot of gas.”
   “I only went to McDonalds with Angie.” Gosh, do I hate repeating myself. I hate telling people what I’m doing and who I’m doing it with. I’m eighteen dammit. Why do you need to know?
   Into my room I go, throwing my self on my air filled queen sized mattress. I can’t afford to have a proper bed. I can’t afford a lot of things, well my mom can’t.
   She’s a Certified Nurse Assistant other wise known as a CNA. She’s basically a cleaner for old people; cleans their poop, puts them in bed, bathes them. To me it’s a job I can never do, but for her it’s a job that she can provide for us with.
   It hurts to see her like this. Working all day and all night, comes home for only six hours then goes back to work. It hurts even more when I complain to her that we never spend time together, when I know why she can’t. I’m an eighteen year old baby still yearning for attention. I’m not the ones who do drugs but, yah.
   We live in a two bed two bath apartment. My brother and I have to rooms and my mother and step dad has the living room. I argued for her to have a room for her privacy and that I’ll share a room with Christopher (my brother), but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen. “I’m never home,” she says, “You two are growing kids,” she says, “You need your privacy.” I guess what she’s saying is true, but for you mom I’ll give up my privacy. You’re married; you need more privacy than me.
   Them sleeping in the living is one of the reason why I never brought any friends home. I mean sure there was a couple of time but less than ten for my whole high school years. I don’t want to say I’m embarrassed of the way I live but I can’t say that it doesn’t bother me. I’m accepting of the circumstances I live by, even if I have to force my self to.
   How can I change the way I live? How can I give my mom and brother more in life; Let my mom stop working and have money to give my brother instead of him always giving me? Well, to finish my book if not win the lottery. Still, even if I finished my book who’s to say that it will become popular enough for me to make lots of money? Hmm…I guess I’ll just have to write that good of a book.
   Just wait mom, I say looking unto the ceiling at its conjuring faces, the time for you to relax is coming soon. Just wait for me.

Confused

 
 My friend Mindy and I are sitting in McDonalds, drinking an iced latte. I have to say that McDonalds has out done itself. I personally think that their café menu is way better than Starbucks and cheaper at that.

Mine’s is hazelnut flavor, my auntie got me into it. Mmm, tastes good.
   “Can you believe it’s been almost a month since we got out of high school? God, we’re growing up fast.”
   “It’s called ‘growing old’ not ‘growing up’,” I correct her.
 She gasps, “Oh my gosh you’re right. Soon I’m going to have wrinkles and have kids.”
    “You already have wrinkles,” I laugh, jokingly.
   “Shut the fuck up Charlie,” she retorts. “But really I feel so different since we graduated; I’m like a new person.”
    My name is Charlotte Alan, but my friends and close family members call me “Charlie”.
“Really?” How can she feel that she’s changed? I still see the same old Mindy in front of me; always trying to dress nice, skinny with no boobs(personally I think she has a model figure), and always having that expression of disgusted at unsanitary things, even though most of time things around her are sanitary. “I don’t feel any different.” I tuck my long black hair behind my ear, “Everyday is just like another day in my life. Something happens one day, but the next day it’s gone, I can’t get it back, there is no going back. I can only keep going in life, you know?” Life is almost like a dream. I’m just floating on a cloud drifting towards tomorrow.
   “I guess,” she sighs. “But you’re telling me you don’t feel any different? Even after you turned eighteen?”
   “Different; no, but I do feel confused, like I don’t know what I want to do with my life. I mean I know that I want to go to college and I know I want to make money, but then sometimes I just want to get out.” A rush of happiness came over me. “Like go travel somewhere just on a whim or work a minimum wage job in a foreign country and just survive; just living with a pencil and paper in my hand, ready to write anything that happens.”
   Mindy didn’t say anything for a second, she just looked at me. “Charlie, you’re scaring me.”
Oh no, she’s worrying about me, “Well that’s just how I feel,” I say quickly. “It’s doesn’t change the fact that I’m starting college at UCR in the fall majoring in creative writing and minoring in music.” I smile at her to keep her rest assured. When she gave her “okay” face I changed the subject as fast I could. We began to talk about her love life.
   After I parted ways with Mindy, I head over to the mini mart down the street to grab a lottery ticket and a scratcher.
   “Come on,” I whisper, scrapping my key against the scratcher. There’s goes a two, another two, damn! I only needed one more and I would have won. I was almost there, yet then again, there is no such thing as ‘almost there’ in gambling. It’s either you win or you don’t.
   Now my faith is all in this lottery ticket. Please God let me win. I know you don’t approve of gambling but please let me win. I promise I won’t be selfish, I’ll share. And it’s true too I will share. If I ever win the lottery I would give money to all my mom’s brothers and sister, then to my dad’s side of the family and the rest to invest and make more money so I can open an orphanage in Kenya and in Laos. But the chances of me ever winning the lottery are very teeny tiny slim. I guess the only way I’m ever going to make money is to finish my book.

I’ve been trying to write a book ever since the tenth grade, but because of my constant writer’s block and my imagination running wild to repeatedly start new stories, I never seem to finish.

   My friend did though. She’s weird, random, and I understand every other word she’s saying, but she’s getting published. And before me! I’m so envious of her. Okay, not really, but I really wish I had the mentality to finish the things I start like she does. I criticize my punk step dad for having the same faults as me. But I’m the kid here, I’m allowed to be confused and lazy, not him.

The Moon, The Sun, Soar

I decided to get a tattoo at the beginning of my summer break. It’s the summer of my transition from high school to college, so I feel the things I do this summer will have a lasting effect on me or at least I want it to. I got three tattoos; one behind my left ear written in Chinese characters reading “Dream” with a crescent moon and tiny star next to it, another character behind my right ear reading “Reality” with a sun beside it, and in the middle of my neck, another character reading “Soar” as in fly with angel wings attached to it.

   At first I really wanted to get cherry blossoms on my body, but I felt that I didn’t have a reason for really wanting it on my body other than the fact that it will look cool. So for now I’ll stick to something that has a meaning, my meaning.
   We dream in the night (crescent moon) or just dream in general of things we want, things we want to be in life and it’s our dream that makes our reality, our day (sun) into something we’ve always wished for, but before we can change our dream into a reality we have to work hard to go and get it; in this case soar to where we want to be.
   I feel that this tattoo will be something I want to live by; not just something I know and will always keep in mind but something that will stay and live with me, be apart of me forever.

  And thus starts my dream.