Just call me bro, bro

Already introducing you to my family.... this may be a long term relationship.

I'm an only child. But I was raised by another woman, Nina, because my parents worked so much. I wanted so much to have a full family, to not feel alone in this world. When I moved to Malibu I met two boys: Todd and Wyatt. Their mother was our real estate agent, and within a year of living here, my mom had found her best friend and I had found mine.

Todd and Wyatt are my replacement brothers. I think the letter I wrote to them explains it best:

Dear Todd and Wyatt,

It’s been almost six years since I met both of you. I had just moved to Malibu, and your mom was our realtor. As the years progressed, we became closer and closer. And I was glad too, because I finally had two amazing brothers to look up to. When we really started to become friends I was being bullied at school. But I was happy because most days I’d get to escape and spend time with you two. You guys played with me no matter what, even if your mom made you, it felt good to have two brothers.

I imagine it must have been weird hanging out with a little girl who called you her brothers. I would think that would be weird! It must come with embarrassment, and I understood that you guys must have been very embarrassed to hang out with me. But you guys accepted me anyway. I remember when we used to make those Lego movies and play GameCube. Wyatt would always beat me, and I still have a temper when he wins at SSB. However, Todd always got back at Wyatt for me.

Those are the brothers I wanted to have. Those were the ‘brothers’ I do have. As you know, I really look up to you. It may seem weird, or stalkerish (I certainly hope not), or just really really strange but I really have no one else in my life like you guys. To me, you guys are the coolest. Sure you don’t go outside all that often and we don’t really ‘talk’, but both of you are really my best friends. The best friends I could ever hope for.

During the years when I was being bullied, I’d always hang-out with you two because of our parents. I was really depressed, but then, I had suddenly made friends. You two were funny, had friends, were great at videogames… All the qualities I wanted. I began to look up at you, how could I not? Not only are both of you amazingly tall, but you are great at everything you apply yourselves too. Whether it is DOTA or AP Calculus, you tried your best. Not only did you try your best, but you succeeded at being the best.

I’ve been reluctant to mention our friendship now. We have been spending an amazing amount of time recently. Really, I have only been spending time with Todd. I have really appreciated our time together, and wish it could last longer. All the long Saturdays working on Study Island and the Fridays watching you play videogames, those were the best times we have spent together: in fact I believe that this year was when we really started to know each other better. Wyatt: for G-d’s sakes man, put down your phone. Seriously, I haven’t talked to you AT ALL this year. The only time I see you is (a) when it’s dinner, but even then you are checking texts (b) when I get a chair in your room and you are video chatting with your girlfriends (c) dessert, or should I say ‘textsert’. It saddens me that this year was your last; and I barely got to see you.

Well now, you are graduating. I probably won’t see you for quite some time, and that makes me sad. So don’t forget to skype me. Even a simple ‘hi’ will do. It’s going to be sad without you guys, and even a little boring. After all, you are my brothers. Not related by blood, but related by soul (I stole this line from a movie, because that’s how I do). I’m going to miss you a lot, just know I am always here for you if you ever need to talk.

With much love and hopefulness,

Rachel Weinberg

I wrote them this letter before they left for college, hoping they'd continue to talk to me. Needless to say, only Wyatt really talks to me. I bet both of them think I'm annoying, which hurts because it just reminds me how much time I wasted with them. I really loved the two of them, they felt like my only family.

It's painful when I think they think I'm a nuisance. I feel like they never liked me much even though they pretty much shaped my entire life. They are the reason I play games like 24/7. They taught me how to skateboard, how to boogey board, and how to awesome sand balls.

But when I speak to them, it feels like an absence. Like they are forcing themselves to talk to me. It feels horrible, HORRIBLE, to know that two of the people I treasure most don't even care about me.

It may just be all in my head though.

Jealousy Part One

I know you were quite jealous of Jasmine in the last post, Blogger. But now, my love, I shall speak of the PAINFUL JEALOUSY THAT BURNS WITHIN THIS DARK SOUL OF MINE.

Honestly, this is one of my biggest pet peeves. When people steal shit off the internet and yet get more recognition then people who actually work hard to be good just really pisses me the fuck off. I feel like I worked hard and spent years building skill and get no recognition.... at all. Where as someone else will get more recognition then me for (1) not even being good at art (2) tracing shit off the internet.

I'll never be the "artistic" person. No one will ever see me as the "artistic" person. This is one of the many reasons I'm not even sure if art college is good for me. I want so bad to learn more about art, to get a wonderful job where people know me, but this constant fear no one will see me as 'artistic' scares me. What if I show up to college and everyone makes fun of me?

I bring this up, because for the first time in my life, someone who I didn't know said I was a good artist. It was during tutoring, I had finished my homework and was drawing. One of the boys asked me to draw him and so I did. When I finished, I gave the paper to him. "That's really good! I was expecting to be bad, but you are.... a really amazing artist. I'm going to frame this".

And I felt amazing, just utterly orgasmic after I heard that. I was so happy and yet, I remembered, when I went back to school I'd still be that weird kid. The "not artistic at all" weird kid.

It's not a name I want for myself.

I trained for years, took countless classes, and while I receive recognition from two of my friends.... they still are more popular then me. How? I'm just... I'm a better artistic then them.

And I know it's terrible to think that, I feel terrible for thinking that. I just, I wish I was better. I wish I wasn't so jealous. I'm a horrible person, aren't I?

I just want to be special - to feel special.

But I'm not, and I realize I may never be.

Jasmine is a piggy

I know... You were waiting weren't you? To hear that I had a love besides you? I know the past 3 posts have been great and we enjoyed the experience... and you look really hot today. Do you know that, Blogger? Anyway, I'm going to stop sugar coating.

Her name is Jasmine Zhu. Her last name means "pig" in Chinese and whenever she got the chance she'd draw pigs all over my arms (once my cheek when I had fallen asleep in class). I met her at camp during the last summer. She was a mutual friend of one of my closest friends at camp. This was no small camp, it was huge, bigger then my High School even.

Anyway, we met some how, and from that moment that we had first exchanged words: I was in love. She was all over me, all the time. There was once in my Comedy Improv class that I had fallen asleep, belly down on the floor. In my deep slumber and well needed slumber (for I had just walked a couple of miles) I could feel her on my back, her head resting on my spine. I was so happy that I pretended to sleep so she wouldn't move.

Perhaps, my fondest memory of her was after a fight I had with Cailtin. It was early in the morning (I always got up last but finished dressing first) and I was resting on an outdoor bench. I was looking at the floor, thinking of all the horrible words Caitlin had spat at me during the fight the night before. I could hear people's footsteps and I ignored it, I wasn't in the mood for conversation. From underneath my chin, Jasmine's tiny fingers lifted my head up to look at her. She smiled at me, her lips curved like a cat's, and told me "don't look down, look up".

For day's I dreamed of that moment and sometimes I still do.

I had six dates to the last dance. Count 'em, I was such a pimp.

Being a pretty sore dancer, I danced to maybe one song with all the girls I had brought and then went outside with them. I did a whole comedy routine for a couple of minutes, they all laughed and took pictures with me. They all kissed my cheek in the pictures, it was pretty cool.

Jasmine was not one of those dates. I had been too afraid to ask her.

But towards 10 p.m. I found myself sitting besides Jasmine near the old church about 3 minutes from the the Great Hall (yes, the Great Hall in Harry Potter was constructed based on it) where the dance was taking place. We talked for about twenty minutes, we were awfully close to each other. She told me about her education in China (did I tell you she was a exchange student?) and how she didn't want to be what her dad was forcing her to be. Apparently, not taking up the family business is a bit of a taboo where she is from.

"Do you have any roommates?" She had asked me, my arm around her neck.

"Yes, I have four." Well, in reality I had eight. Four to a room, eight to a floor. Four of my roommates didn't know English or how to take care of themselves. Or our one stall bathroom.

"Oh, I wanted to spend the night with you."

How does one interpret that? For me it was more of a Quagmire moment "Giggidy giggidy!". It turns out that she had just wanted to talk to me, or at least that what she stated it an email I received from her but a month ago. I was secretly hoping she had meant to say "cuddle with you".

Since camp, I've been skyping with her almost every Saturday or Friday morning. I actually spoke to her this morning. She wants me to live with her in China over the summer. I told her I'd try (I've been telling her this since she asked in September).

For Christmas, I bought her (I had won it at the Chili Cook-Off) a great big teddy bear I plan to send to China.

Now you know, Blogger. Although this "friends with benefits" thing has been fun, I will never truly lover you like how I love her. Anyways.... next time we do this, make sure you are prepared for me to take off my pants. Kidding! No, not really.

Friendships and why some of mine need a relaxing massage

Sssshhhh, we are doing this again. I'm sorry, you probably didn't want another post, but what can I say? I want you.

I will first begin at a friendship I had in elementary school. Being a painful experience, I will shrink back into 'sloth mode' and try to slowly move away from the pick-up truck that is my sadness. I will speak about this in such away, my sloth self would be proud of my real self.

What's up with me and sloths?

When I was in fourth grade, I met a girl. Her name was Grace and she was my next door neighbor. Now, I loved Grace as a sister. We were closer than close. Even though we did not attend the same school, we saw each other every weekend. 11.a.m to whatever time she could convince her nanny (sometimes parents) to stay at my house for. Usually, it meant an epic sleep over.

Like the kids we were, we used to play with dolls. We did this whole thing where I would make the plots and she would help act them. I was "Chad" and he was a German Shepard ( as I remember, a pretty hot one) and she was "Maddie" a Poodle (a curious hopeless romantic). In 5th grade we made a pact: to never stop playing with Chad and Maddie. Not even in High School.

But as good stories go, something happened in Middle School that would probably for ever change my life.

Grace, my only true friend at the time, was trying to suspend me for sexual harassment.

Now, I could see why. I'm a very open person, I love hugs, ADORE them even. Because I was so loved as a youngin' I felt like I needed physical contact every second of the day. Not only that, but my friends (stupidly and without meaning) had called me a pedophile. Again, it was 6th grade. None of us knew what it really meant.

Before I knew it, a nasty (but later turned out to be true) rumor spread about me. That I, Rachel Weinberg, was a lesbian. And suddenly, I had no one.

No one talked to me.

No one listened to me.

No one invited me to play with them.

No one wanted anything to do with me.

At around the end of 8th grade (almost a year and a half later) I met Caitlin and Lacey. I envied them for their friendship, within them I saw Grace and I again. And so I latched onto them, like a sloth to a tree branch.

Well, it didn't end up so well. I was verbally abused by Caitlin everyday and even now she does it. "Stupid, idiot". I feel like that's all she says to me. The sad part is, I let her walk all over me and convince other people (such as my friend Linda) to walk all over me. Because I want friends, no, I NEED friends.

That is why my friendships need a massage. Or a joint. Either way, I get a break.

Now, in tenth grade, I am transparent. I let people walk all over me, and when I try to stop them they blow it off. They think it's funny that I'm hurt.

But at least I have people like Sam. Although we aren't that close, I know that he'll be there for me. Even if he has a girlfriend who I am not particularly fond of.

Well, maybe I'll talk about this more some other time. I just realized all this as I was driving on the 101 (which is probably not the best time to wonder off into my mind).

I think the inner sloth in my would be proud that I was able to gather my thoughts like this.

I'm like..... a band aid

I know we just met each other, and this might be a bit forward of me, but I have a post I'd like to share with you.

I know! I get it! New blogger, just started an hour ago and we are already at this stage... You know? The stage where we can share stuff.

I'll begin at the beginning of a beginning:

Two nights ago I laid awake in bed. I was thinking about life and who am I and who I would become. But then this sudden fear hit me like a pick-up truck aiming for a sloth - and I'm the sloth.

I'm temporary. Like a band aid.

Well, I'm a little bit smarter then a band aid.

Sure I have friends, but how long will I have them? How long will they have me? I feel like people get bored with my quickly, and I would too if I were not myself. If I were the pick-up truck.

It's like my existence doesn't matter. Have you ever had that feeling if this were not High School people would stop remembering who I am.

I want to be permanent. I want to grab onto someone by the collar and say "YOU WILL REMEMBER ME UNTIL YOU DIE". And then marry that person, and have our beautiful babies. This person would preferably be Kiera Nightly or another smokin' hot actress.

For once in my life, I want someone to make a move on me. In a friendshipey way of course. I want someone to want to be friends with me. Then I'll know I'm slightly becoming more permanent.

Well, it wasn't so bad was it? You should probably take a shower.... you look like a skank. We should have waited longer to share stuff. I should probably take a shower to, I feel pretty dirty after that.

Hi, it's nice to meet you.

Dear people who are bored and somehow stumbled onto my page,

My name is Rachel. A lot of people (well, not a lot, but I wish it were a lot) call me Ray. I like video games and hamburgers. Sometimes I review stuff or keep a journal.

The whole reason I started a Blogger (Bloggy? Blogster? McBlog?) was because my school counselor told me to. I mean, I'm not depressed or anything. I'm actually a really happy person. I think a lot about abstract things. I don't really think about boys, I'm gay, but besides that my thoughts are more focused, well... around me.

So yeah, I hope you and I can get along together. Maybe JUST maybe we have something in common. Or you fall in love with me. Either, I look forward to spending my high school life with you: internet.