My life could be worse.

Shawna could be pregnant with an illegitimate child. My illegitimate child.

Or I could be dating Mia. While she cares for her illegitimate child.

Or I could be in the same room with Mia.

Fortunately, all of these things do not pertain to my life.

I am at peace.

I did it. I finally emailed Melissa. Even though I lost the last two elections and are now to crawl back to it. Even though I hate student government and just about every other extracurricular activity.

And yet I still do it. Because if I want to get into a good school, specifically Dartmouth, I need the perfect application. The right grades, extracurriculars and essay expressing my struggles with my Asian identity. And then once I get into said good school, I'll continue the grades, activities and personal statement expressing my struggles with my Asian identity. Then it's law school. Then it's being a lawyer. I don't know. Unicorns and meadows and success and shit.

Now why do I feel like I've said this speech a hundred times? Because I have.

Sometimes I feel like the real reason that I do all this shit is because I'll finally be free. I'll finally be away from my parents, away from their expectations. From everyone's expectations. And I'll finally be away from Stoneybrook and the bullshit in this stupid town. And if I could somehow fit Shawna into all of this, it'll be okay.

Why did I write all this?

Shit.

Everyone thinks I'm cheating on Shawna. With Patricia and Antonia.

As in the restaurant and the book. Respectively.

What the fuck?

I really need to get Shawna's dumbass friends out of my speeches. Or just anything I'm involved with.

Surprisingly, I came away from my election speech actually wanting the position.

Maybe I should just run under the slogan, "the guy who had the naked girl in his speech."

Finally finished studying for the night. Tomorrow another shift at Uncle Ed's and another five hours with derivatives. Kill me now.

I'm taking Shawna on a romantic trip to New Haven, erm, that is Yale. Except she doesn't know it yet.

I've decided not to tell her. College campuses can be romantic. And I'm sure we won't just be touring libraries and crap there. We could go out to a restaurant or something.

And maybe visiting Yale might inspire Shawna to do something after high school besides entertaining notions of beauty school or massage therapy or something. She could go to college. This is helping her. It's making her a better person.

I'm also saving so much time by taking care of  my Yale tour and my relationship with Shawna all at once.

Pros:

• It is an Ivy
• Barack Obama did go there as an undergrad
• It is farther away from my parents

Cons:

• My sister would now be able to visit me.
• I really would not like to get mugged on my way to class.
• I would also rather not become a journalist, protest with an ultra-liberal agenda or spend my days studying Butler.

Enough said.

SAT Word of the Day: Solicitude - uneasiness of mind occasioned by desire, anxiety, or fear.

Talking to Dawn made me realize I'm slipping. It's getting harder to juggle the extracurriculars and fake some sense of involvement. My grades from midterms weren't up to par. And I refuse to think that dating Shawna or god, even getting high with Heather has anything to do with this.

I can't let this happen. The dean of admissions at Yale, Harvard or hell, even Dartmouth do not need to see this. My parents can't see this.

I just need to apply myself more. Study a little bit harder. Pull in the extra shift at Uncle Eds to pay for a tutor. Show up more at clubs. Needle my teachers even more about extra credit.

Then it will all work out.

Today  was spent with the usual Christmas Eve shift at Uncle Ed's. And I'll be there again tomorrow. Screw peppermint and gingerbread, the scent of sweet and sour sauce mark the holidays for me.

Exchanged presents with Shawna. I got her a goddamn book. How fucking square is that? Shawna is definitely not Mary Anne. (Which I, of course, mean in the best possible way). And I don't know why I forgot that small but significant fact at Barnes and Nobles yesterday. 

And Shawna got me a sex toy. Which okay, is kind of strange. But you know at least it was kind of thoughtful? And I suppose I'll get some use out of if we keep dating.

But it at least made more sense than a fucking book.

Finally got the balls to ask out Shawna. Not to hook up. Not for a booty call. Not to trade in handjobs for egg rolls.

But on a date.

Where we could see a movie. Grab a pizza. Actually get to know each other..

And I'm actually looking forward to this more than I thought I would. Strange.

I mean it is the right thing to do, right?

Corinne and I broke up.

Sucks that I still didn't get to have sex with her.

Or at least cop one last feel.

Whatever.

The whole town's gone insane. This whole thing is some strange, tragic, chaotic mess.

I'm going to help look for them with Corinne on the Randazzos'  boat. Because it's my duty to do something. To help in some way. And maybe because I want Corinne to think that I'm this selfless heroic guy. And when she cries to me about it her boobs totally rub up against me.

So I'm going to search and help. And yes, even look for Logan. Although him being gone wouldn't be so bad. And the vacancies that would then be available on student council would be very convenient for me...

SAT Word of the Day:  Amour - A love-affair, especially one of an illicit nature.

Corinne is nice.

Perhaps more specifically Corinne has a nice rack. And a nice ass.

Hell, she even kisses like a saint. That is if saints kiss when they aren't performing miracles and shit. And aren't taking vows of chastity and being men of the cloth.

But even more so, she actually has a nice personality. She's fun and cute and sweet. And for a second, I can stop focusing on her body and focus on her mind.

I don't know where this thing between us is going. I'm not even sure I want to get into a relationship. I don't even know if she wants to. But this thing between us is fun. And shit, I love making out with her.

That's a start isn't it?

In other news, my Playboy mysteriously reappeared when I cracked open my SAT prep book today. I don't know what the fuck just happened. Maybe I'm going crazy.

FUCK .

Where the hell is my Playboy? I came back to the cabin and it was gone. I've looked everywhere for it and it is definitely not in the SAT book I hid it in.

HOLY SHIT.

Who took it? And what will they do with it? I can't have fucking Means find out that I've been bringing dirty magazines to camp. Hell, I can't have anyone find out. Sure I've been known to hook up with Shawna (pre-herp) but goddamn this will make me look like a pervert. 

FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.

SAT Word of the Day. Fuck, not today.

Grades came in. I'm in third yet again. My parents are pissed and demanding that I try harder. Which means more studying, tutoring and ass-kissing teachers. Normally, I'd be fine with this kind of stuff. But fuck it. It's summer and even Rick Chow has limits. I don't want to study for SATs or find an internship. I want to shittily play basketball with Trevor, look through old Playboys and watch the second season of America's Best Dance Crew. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I actually want a normal summer.

I would also love it if Logan would stop fighting Mary Anne's battles and threatening me. Like what am I going to say? Sorry, I fucked up and cheated on her with Shawna? Well, I guess I could. Hell, I have no idea.

Life is just too damn complicated for me right now.

But you know what's not complicated? This issue of Playboy that Trevor gave me. Miss December doesn't care that I came in third and doesn't have a huge jock boyfriend that wants to beat me up.

SAT Word of the Day: Inveigh - Definition: protest or speak angrily


FUCK FUCK FUCK. I hate SHS. What a bunch of goddamn sheep.

SERIOUSLY, HOW MANY TIMES DOES PETE BLACK HAVE TO WIN CLASS PRESIDENT?

GOD, IT ALMOST KILLED ME TO PLAY THE NICE AND HUMBLE LOSER CARD  IN ENGLISH TODAY AROUND HIS SMUG ASS.

WHAT DOES HE HAVE THAT I DON'T?

I know his record. Sure he's smart and has a good GPA. But is he a member of every student group, like I am? Does he tutor kids after school like I do? I don't see him organizing any fucking book drives for the hospital every year. And he's not the one pulling off all nighters just to turn in that last piece of extra credit.

So why is he class president? WHAT ABOUT ME? Where is my goddamn medal?

FUCK THE ELECTIONS. FUCK SHS. FUCK THIS WHOLE GODDAMN TOWN. I'll see them all when I come back as a Yale grad and the best goddamn lawyer in the world.

SAT Word of the Day: Antebellum - the time preceding a war, especially the American Civil War

Elections on underway and I need to find more ways to ruin Pete Black. I already have Erica Blumberg spreading rumors about him, but I don't know if that's enough. Screw being friends with him, I need to get into an Ivy league college so I can become the best fucking Chinese-American lawyer in the world. Do you know how great this will look on my transcript?

Anyways off to attend a Future Farmers of America meeting. I'm sure those hicks will vote for me if I schmooze with them long enough. And going to one meeting is enough to consider myself part of the club, right? Because I'm sure this will make me look "well-rounded" on my Yale application.