Friday, June 25, 2010

Boy: "Will you go out with me?" Girl: "I like Girls..."

When I was five I was married to a boy named Tony.

He had gorgerous, long blonde hair and would hold a baby doll if I thrust it into his hands... He was the man of my dreams- At the easily pleasing age of five.
His mother and mine were good friends and they lived just down the street from us... So Tony and I would get together everyday and play "house" and drink juice from boxes and all that five-year-old junk.
We were in love.
And then I started kindergarten and saw Cruz....
He was a striking hispanic six-year-old and, for our young age, a badass. I would gush to my mother about him... And I was in love.

But unlike Tony... Cruz never noticed me.

But I got over that with no more than a small shrug of the shoulders. It was easy to move on back then.

At one point I even knew a little boy that lived down the street from me who gave me a ring because he had a crush on me... I still have it (is that weird?).
But today... If a boy I didn't really know gave me a ring I would worry about it for weeks! I would wonder if I should give it back to him or keep it or hide it... I mean what do you do in that situation? But back then it was easy... I saw this small trinket and I was infatuated with it... There were no questions... I was keeping that ring NO MATTER WHAT... It was mine. He had given it to me. My mom could, officially, not do a thing about it because it was a gift.

But none of those experiences match the one I had in first grade. I got married to a boy I met in my first grade class.
The proposal went a bit like this:

Boy: "Will you marry me?"
Me: "Um... Okay!"

Then we held hands for a week.

I still talk to him. But when we stopped holding hands I thought nothing of it.
Again, it was easy to move on.
Our "divorce" was NOTHING in comparrison to divorces adults go through. And I am generally unhappy that all divorces can't be like the one I had in first grade... Easy for both parties.

So today, friends,
(Can I call you friends? Or is that stepping over the bounds... Can I call you my friend if I push you on the swing for five minutes? No? Okay...)
I have decided to talk to you about dating and how incredibly difficult it is...

First off... Meeting people.

Everyone is different. No two people are alike (We are like snowflakes...) and that is what makes it so hard to find a mate.
For example.
Jimmy likes Sally... And Sally likes Jimmy... But Jimmy was saved by Jesus Christ and Sally (frankly) worships the devil.
So these two love birds can either deal with this or realize that they were not made for each other...
Ways to deal with this:
Jimmy drops his faith and accepts Sally
Sally drops her faith and accepts Jimmy's
They move on.

But moving on is harder than it sounds.

What if that person was "The one?"
What if I am the one at fault?
Should I just accept them?

So I guess I am saying... Finding the right person is the hardest thing to do in this day and age... There are so many different people and so many different qualities.
When you do, finally, meet "the one" they will have, at least, one quality you do not like. I promise. But the question is... Can you still love that person when you find that one thing out?
Hopefully... But can you be 100% sure?
Nah, you can't be until you reach that moment.
(Then hopefully you'll think back to this blog.)

Next, Dating.

Once you find someone you generally like you have to actually approach them and ask them out.
This could go a few different ways...

Movie Reality:

Boy: "Will you... Go out with me?"
Girl: "I was wondering how long it would take you to ask me out!"
[They then proceed to Makeout]

Reality Show Reality:

Boy: "Will you like... Go out with me?"
Girl: "Well... Like sure!"
[They then proceed to makeout and stumble up the stairs.]


Boy: "Will you go out with me?"
Girl: "No."


Boy: "Will you go out with me?"
Girl: "Yes."


Boy: "Will you go out with me?"
Girl: "I like girls..."

Sooooooooooooooo this is a very hard process.

For the most part this is delayed because one party is unsure of the circumstance. And I know you may hate me... But go for it.
If they say no.... I know it will be hard but... At least you didn't spend "forever" wondering: What if...?
And other person... Maybe once, say yes to someone you wouldn't really expect liking. Try it. That person could be the person of your dreams and you just don't know it.

Being in a Relationship.

Seriously... Girls and guys that like to makeout (or "eat face" as I call it) in front of your friends... YOU HAVE NO SOUL.
Half of your friends probably do not have a significant other so you're rubbing it in their face.
They understand that you're in love.
And they are happy.
But they do not deserve that treatment so knock it the fuck off.
A kitten dies every time you do that.

Think about THAT next time you decide to munch on your boyfriend's tongue in the hallway.

Moving on...
Being in a relationship is super fun. But do not, under any circumstances, waste the cute moments.

Wait to say "I love you"
Wait to kiss
Wait to hit a new base.

Seriously... It will feel more special when you reach that moment if you wait and grow together.
Trust me, kay?

Third?... Sex.

Oh god... Why did I write that?
Sex is the thing when...
When two people love each other very much....
The man put his...
Into her...

Oh god I can't do this...

Breaking up...

Okay. So I have never gone through an awful thing like this.
But all I can say is...

Don't hold it all in.
Your friends are not evil succubusses (suckubus'? Succuubus? Succubai?... Ah fuck it...) that feed off gossip. The really do love you and want to help. So TALK TO THEM.
You don't need to suffer.

Also, there is a light at the end of the tunnel.
Another fish in the sea.
Another... You know.... "The one"....

So please... Don't hurt too long.
It hurts us to see you hurt so much.

Just remember... We love you.

And... Kittens didn't really die when you madeout with your boyfriend in the hall.
(Well... I don't know. They may... I've never taken a poll or anything... Just kidding... But really...)

Moving on...

I guess what this whole post was about was finding "the one" and how hard that is to do and maintain....
It isn't like the tea parties I had with Tony... Or the ring I was given....
Boy's can't be chosen as "perfect" just because they will play "house" with you...
Girl's can't just be chosen because they play four square with the boys.
It's harder now.
And it doesn't get much easier.

High School made it easy for all of us. Locking us in a building together and forcing us to pick from the mass. Real life will force us to pick from a much bigger mass... Which is harder.
But... You haven't known all the boys in the world since they quoted stupid movies in seventh grade...

So... Keep your head up...
You'll find him... Or her...

Or even someone better than "The one"

And you will love their flaws and watch them sleep and cry with them and hold them whenever you can.

Well... It's late... And Kim's delerious.
Good. Night.


Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Your titles are always more interesting than mine...


I still remember eighth grade graduation when we both, somehow, ended up in the girls bathroom in tears... Or mostly in tears. Somewhere in the universe, some force suggested: "Hey, there are some girls on Earth that should meet... One is named Kimberly and the other is named Berlyn." And that forces friend could have only responded like this: "Hey, did you notice that if you take off the Kim and add an N to what is left it's Berlyn? So when you put them together you get KimBerlyn... Like it's meant to be..."
So there we were in that bathroom. Crying about our stupid friends. And our futile attempts to be adults. And our shitty eighth grade lives. And all we said to eachother was: "Are you okay?"
Every year since that one moment I have wondered what friendship we would have had if we had spent the entire dance in the bathroom talking and bonding... Would we be tighter than we are now or would we still just be Kim and Berlyn instead of KimBerlyn?
Well... To be truthful. I am SO happy that we waited until this year to get this close. I mean, if we had become friends any sooner than we may have never realized KimBerlyn... Or had that scary car ride to the southcenter mall where both of us were nearly in tears... Or watched Zoolander... Or killed ants on your floor... Or even had this blog.
I'm rambling....
I guess what I am trying to say is that I am so happy that we finally started talking this year and that we are such good friends.
I have never had anyone I could talk to about all my little weird quirks and stuff until we became friends. You understand how weird I am and you have similar qualities.
I love you Kim and I cannot wait for the next chapter in our lives... It will be epic and we will keep in touch because we are pretty much twins... It will be hard... But we'll have this blog and that will make it easier to keep in touch... Or at least that is my hypothesis...
I'm kind of hyper-ventalating so I'm going to stop typing now :)
Love you,

Saturday, June 19, 2010

How about... "Have a freaking terrible summer?"

Many things accompany the end of any school year. Cleaning out lockers, taking finals, making plans for summer, making out with random strangers in the hallways... but one of the most anticipated is signing yearbooks. I, personally, have a love/hate relationship with yearbook signings. My hand sometimes works faster than my mind, and I write the strangest, most unnecessary things to people. But everything I write is true. So many people had an impact on me this year, and I don't think they realize it. So I tell them in a $68 book. My thoughts are worth that entire $68, if not one dollar more.

Take Swenson, for example. I was staring at a blank page in his yearbook, trying to figure out what to say and what not to say. Having had him as a teacher and adviser for three years, he feels like family. I wanted to write about how special it was to have newspaper be a family with him like our father, but then I felt like that sounded as if we were in a cult of some sort. Then, as Berlyn suggested, it could be like he was a jolly uncle. But the word jolly makes me think of Santa Claus, which could seem like I was calling him chubby, which I could rectify by saying "big-boned," but that sounds inappropriate. Everything that popped into my strange brain swirling with weird thoughts was just NOT GOOD ENOUGH. So I rambled, but gave at least five seconds of thought to every word I translated onto the page.

Repeat this process thirty times, and there is the summary of my yearbook signing experience.

Of course, I have not written in some of my very best friends' yearbooks. Michelle, Tasha, Brianne and Berlyn have not had me sign theirs yet, simply because there was not enough time. Neither has Steffi. However, Berlyn and I made a joint decision (besides the one where we will get pregnant at the same time) to write our "yearbook" messages here instead. So here I go.

I've changed quite a bit this year, and I owe much of that to you. I've known you for years, but we had never really talked much until this year. I really, really wish we had become friends sooner. How did the world survive without Kimberlyn for 18 years? I have no idea. Remember when Cuba was on fire? Something had to spontaneously react to our awesomeness, don't you think? I do. Gosh, you amaze me. Every strange thing that spills out of my mouth seems to make sense to you when it just earns a disconcerting look from most everybody else. I love that we both have the need to have everyone love us. I love our talks about dinosaurs crossing busy traffic on freeways, similarities between blood and barbecue sauce, being talked to by your mom about gays and lesbians, our Cowgirls experience with Fantasy Friday, holding hands with you in the hall out of instinct, freaking the eff out over the anticipation of Jiffy Pop actually popping, muttering "I like you..." after we do something "out of the ordinary" (it's in quotes because we are never ordinary) and so, SO much more. And even though I will miss you when you go off to California more than I could ever express, our physical separation is, in reality, good for all of society. If two people as awesome and awkward as us were together all the time, people would drop dead from us constantly radiating Batman. They don't have to suffer that fate now, those lucky motherfuckers. And hey, we both have webcams now, so when we have a break from making our porn videos with unsuspecting hot strangers, we can talk from our computer screens. (That is, if they don't shatter from the combination of our beauty.)
I love you so much, Berlyn. Kimberlyn is one of the best things to come into my life in the past few years. We have to stay in touch, because if you start to forget about me you will just be N.
- Kimberly

Friday, June 11, 2010

You Need to LOVE ME.

I'm a very strange person.

I know... You're all shocked.

You're all thinking: "Strange? Berlyn? I would have never thought..."

Yes, yes. It is shocking.
For those of you who are saying this without being sarcastic, I only have one thing to say... The reason you never would have guessed I was strange is because I keep it to myself in every situation except situations of extreme danger.

(For those of you saying this sarcastically... You've probably known me since, or before, middle school when sugar, alone, woke me up... Now it takes five shots of expresso and a rockstar...)

How am I strange you ask?

Well for starters... Since I started high school my list of phobias has nearly quadrupled (quadruppled? quadroopled? quad... Ah fuck it.). Which, with most people this would be worrisome... But these phobias are just an embarassment.

I have, my entire life, had these phobias:

*Arachnophobia (Fear of spiders)
*Kakorrhaphiophobia (Fear of Failure)
*Autophobia (A fear of solitude. Or abandoment. Mostly, for me it means abandonment but since the fifth grade (when I watched an episode of justice league where The Flash, my favorite character, got frozen in time and nearly lost his mind...) I have been afraid of both.)
*Agoraphopia/claustrophobia (I have this intense fear of closets... I feel like things will come out of them and drag me into their midst. Luckily... There is one RIGHT BESIDE MY BED...)
*Alchluophobia (or Nyctophobia) (Fear of the Dark.)
*Dentophobia (Fear of the Dentist)- I don't like other people's hands in my mouth. OR the taste that is left in your mouth afterwards.

Since beginning highschool these phobias have been added to the list:

*Algophobia (Fear of Pain)- Not too strange right? I just flinch every time someone raises a hand for no reason... Seriously no reason. Oh! Maybe it was the emotional beating that came with high school... Like the fruit cake that always comes with Christmas.
*Apeirophobia (Fear of infinity)- This one really is understandable. The thought that we cannot measure the universe is daunting. But astronomy has done this to me:
*Cleithrophobia (Fear of space)- I had a panic attack three days ago because we watched a video that took you from a picnic all the way out to space where Earth can't even be seen any more... I kept thinking... What if we never find Earth again? Holy shit... Holy shit... What then? WHAT THEN?!... Which leads to:
*Dementophobia (Fear of becoming insane)
... Moving on....
*Aphenphosmphobia (Fear of being touched)- Which isn't too intense.
* Fear of Yellow Lights- You know... The push-over sibling of red and green... Red says STOP and green says GO, but Yellow says: "Hey, could you slow down? I might turn red... You really hould consider... No? Okay...". This fear is because of the car acciendent.
*Asthenophobia (Fear of fainting)- Cause I fainted after giving blood.
(Now before you all go wondering if my next fear is going to be needles... YOU'RE WRONG. I was stupid and decided I didn't need breakfast the morning of giving blood. Because you do not need food if you are losing two pints of something that RUNS YOUR BODY.Whatever... I saved three lives I'm fine, I passed out but at least I'm not going to hell.)
*Asymmetriphobia (Fear of Asymmetrical Objects)- Mostly has to do with faces... I'm sorry but if one of your eyes is two times the size of the other I will probably not talk to you... Which leads to:
*Fear of imperfection (OCD)
*Fear of blow jobs- I honestly think it is ridiculous that they have a phobia name for kidney diesease (Albumineruophobia) but not for the fear of blow jobs... They are terrifying and incredibly awkward...
*And last. A Fear of the Future- Kim summed this up quite well: "I've always had it set in my mind, finish high school to get to college... Now what?"

Seriously? Now what? That's been my goal too and now... I've reached the end of that goal. I need to make a new one but I have no idea what to make as my goal next...

"Finish college and become awesome..."

... Sure. Only one problem. What happens after becoming awesome? Death? Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.

* Fear of reaching full potential...

I guess I should move on.
My new phobias are not the only explination for my strangeness.
Luckily, Kim shares this next trait with me.

The need to have people love us.

Yes. I have this thing where if someone likes me and expresses this fondness... I instantly think: "They like me... THEY MUST LOVE ME!"
Maybe I'm insane, you could call me that. But any cousellor would stand up and slap you across the face while screaming: "Give her a break! She comes from a broken family!"

That's a good arguement... But I honestly don't think that is the real reason. I think I just want a general group of people I can cuddle with whenever I please.
That sounds selfish... But at least I am not locking them in a small cage in the basement like I did with my boyfriend Hahahahahahaaha. Just kidding.. Not really.

This desire has gotten me in trouble a few times. Like for instance: I love Kim. If I could fall on my head and be conviced I was a lesbian I would marry Kim. She is like my twin. And I would never have to give a blow job. But....
There would always be:

Fear of Oral Sex (Or as my mum would say "Going down on a girl")

Whatever. I would marry Kim now... Even though I'm straight... And have a boyfriend. But he's in the basement in a cage so...
He. Won't. Mind.
Haha. I'll stop with the boyfriend-locked-in-a-cage-in-the-basement "jokes".

People. I am strange because the people I hang out with the most, allow me to be this way. This isn't a bad thing. I mean, these are the very people that encourage my writing, talk about movies with me, and laugh when I say completly random things.
Like calling BBQ sauce blood.
Or marks on the floor vampire bites.
Or that Ts are going extinict and one day it will only be extinic-
Or other things.
Even the people that read most of my shit in the school newspaper are encouraging my strangeness.

When I say, "My favorite president is Nixon."
People ask, "Tell me more..."

When I say, "I want a braclett that says 'What would Hitler do?'"
People say, "I would probably get one of those too."

When I where a dress with a zipper over the boobs...
People ask, "Is that a real zipper?"
And I respond, "I'm not sure, why don't you give it a go?"

Well people. That is all for me.
I may just go snuggle with someone who loves me and try to ignore my most recent fear:

Boringblogscophobia- (Fear that no one is listening to this).



Saturday, June 5, 2010

Disclaimer: I'm not very interesting...

Herro der,

So one of my lovely quirks is that I'm afraid of people hating me or thinking that I think I'm cool.
This is why I've been putting off writing this. However, Kimberlyn wouldn't exist if there was no Kimberly. It would just be n, and we can't have that. Unlike Berlyn, I am often scatterbrained. Therefore, this post has no theme. Kayyyy!

One thing I LOVE about us awkward girls is the number of times we say things that make people we don't really know uncomfortable. For example, there was a day when Berlyn and I were in the cafeteria standing near the condiment cart. There was some disgusting barbecue sauce (I mean, really gross. I didn't know there was a difference between different kinds of barbecue sauces, but I feel like somebody added a pint of dog saliva in the school sauce) on the ground, and Mr. Mead came over for some Ranch. Clearly trying to engage in unnecessary conversation, he said "Oh, someone spilled barbecue sauce, huh?" (Thank you for pointing out the obvious, by the way. Why didn't you just say "Hey, I wore shoes today," or "I exist?") Without hesitating, Berlyn replied "Actually, that's my blood..." Then the ever-so-familiar response ensued. Mr. Mead walked away without saying anything. Why does this always happen to us?

I guess that reaction is better than some. It's like the time Jaden's family took me out to a really nice dinner for my sixteenth birthday. My meal included tofu, and Jaden's mom asked me what it was.
"That looks good, what is it?"

I made Swenson really uncomfortable when I told him Berlyn and I had a pregnant experiment... calling it an experiment probably added to that... After being fake-pregnant for less than five minutes, I fell down Berlyn's stairs. Maybe I should become more coordinated before I decide to reproduce.

Okay, so on a serious note, I'm probably going to be a hoarder someday. I think this because of my coffee can full of unimportant notes I keep in my room. Looking through these notes, I found one that I had written in freshman year and apparently never given to anyone. Why I kept this, I don't know, but I'm glad I did. I write the most awkward notes to people, and now I have proof! And because I have no life on a Saturday night, I will type it up to show you:

"Yo. I'm in math right now and the class is going over the homework that I left at home.. and I already wrote Andee and Tasha notes, so.. hi! I'm bored. It's graphing. My horizontal is the negative something quadrant 3 something, apparently. Have you seen Accepted? It's funny. I saw it when it was in the theatres. It was funnier then. I saw it again this weekend with Jaden but we got bored and played with gummy bears. Have you ever played with gummy bears? I bet you haven't. You should. Haha. It's fun. 'Not only did the graph move up, the asymptote moved up!' Haha, my math teacher is so cool. You have no idea. Everyone else thinks he's weird but I don't. I bet it's hard to impress highschoolers. He just asked a question and no one answered. Hm. I love cherry popsicles. (popcisles? hah, nope) 'Are you guys excited about trig?' two people: 'woohoo!' He's telling us that he bought hamburgers and gas at Costco this weekend. 21 days of school left! I'm so excited for summer. I love it. I turn OLD this summer! Wooooot. Aristotle stuttered. I did not know that.
uh. bye!
-Kim. wooot."

I haven't got much better at communicating...
I'm sorry this doesn't have a theme...
I'll get better at this...

-Kim. Kimberly? Kimber...lee.