Tomorrow is my first day of sophomore year. My mind is ready, my room - not so much... I still haven't unpacked the bag I took with me on vacation, my birthday presents are still in a heap on my desk and the floor is littered with checklists and old grammar exercises from last year.
I decided to clean the mess up (mostly so I could start creating a new mess with exciting sophomore stuff tomorrow), but I haven't done much yet. I picked up the first stack of papers, looked at them and found a note. Not just any note, but the little letter I wrote about a month ago to a guy I saw on the campground. After three days of weirdness, I'd had enough and decided to write a letter. A month later, the letter isn't going to make any difference anymore. I might as well share my silly teenage girl moment with you!
Dear random guy I saw on the campground,

Is there food stuck between my teeth? Is the skirt of my dress caught in my underwear? Did one of the zits on my face turn that alarming shade of yellow that means it's about to burst? What is it?
And what was it yesterday? Was I about to lose my shorts while swimming in the lake? Was my hair sticking out at weird angles? Were my glasses askew?
And the day before yesterday, when you first saw me while I was playing table tennis in the near darkness? Am I so pale that I looked like a ghost? Could you see my bra through my white top? Was I talking embarrassingly loud? Seriously, what was it?

I've caught you staring at me quite a few times now. I like getting some attention from guys my age, but you're making me nervous. You make me feel like something about me is just slightly wrong. Not very wrong, but just a little less good than it's supposed to be...
Maybe you're just staring at me because I'm ugly. You wouldn't be the first to do that. It would also explain why you start talking to those fifteen-year-old Barbie wannabes every time I catch you staring at me. But I refuse to believe that. A small voice in my mind suggested that and I promised myself not to listen to that voice anymore. If you don't think I'm ugly and there's no food stuck between my teeth or anything... Could that mean...?
Are you interested in me? Is that why you're looking at me? In that case you should know that I'm not going to be the first of us to say something. Last time I liked someone and put effort into getting to know him, he stomped on my heart. I don't want to take that risk for someone who might only be looking at me because my face looks weird when I play table tennis...

Quite frankly, I hope you say 'hi' tomorrow. I don't know why you're staring like that, but I think you're a nice guy. I can be pretty nice too. So don't be afraid and come over to say 'hi' tomorrow. I promise I'll answer you. 

See you tomorrow!
Envy

Of course I never gave him this letter. It ended up under the enormous pile of clothes in my tent, then almost got into the washing machine when we got home.
And the guy? Well, the next day he stared at me, but didn't say anything. I decided to start a conversation the next day. But when I walked to his tent, the place was empty, the tent gone, the guy and his family on their way back to Holland. Lesson learned: next time I'll say 'hi' straight away.

Stay Awesome!

Every now and then, my body decides that unrestrained cell devision is a good thing. I'm one of the lucky persons on this planet who don't get cancer when cells go crazy like that (at least not until now). I get cystes. Cystes aren't awesome either, but I won't die of them. They're kinda like cancer's nice cousin. However, you shouldn't try to get them out yourself. Which was exactly what I did...

Around the same time as I started this blog, I noticed a thingy in my shoulder. It was a little black spot, so I thought it was a blackhead. For over a year I just left it there; it wasn't bothering me and it didn't make me look like a hideous monster, so why try to get it out?
But then, a few months ago, the thing suddenly got bigger. A part of my shoulder got slightly swollen. The skin was turning red and got irritated. I still thought it was a blackhead and finally tried to get it out. By then, it was March 2014. At the end of May, there was still stuff coming out of the blackhead that didn't behave like a blackhead. I went to the doctor right after I came back from the Geography Olympiad. A few days later, the doctor stuck a knife in my shoulder and got the cyste-that-looked-like-a-blackhead out. It's currently in some lab to be examined, just to make sure that I really don't have cancer.

I've had cystes before, so I'm not worried. I'm just terribly annoyed. After the Geography Olympiad, everything went wrong. My laptop almost died, friends were pissed at me because I had to show emotions when they wanted me to, but be a potplant on any other occasion and when I thought someone was coming to my house for the very first time, he didn't show up.
Boohoo, I had some bad luck, who cares? I was totally going to handle this as an adult, until my shoulder started to swell again. This was last Thursday, a week after I had the 'surgery' to get the cyste out. I woke up that morning with an itchy, red shoulder. The stitches I got had almost disappeared into my flesh, as if my shoulder was trying to eat them. I had to get them out immediately.

I'm fine now, just a bit annoyed because of all my bad luck over the past two weeks. I'll get the results on the lab tests on the cyste next week. My shoulder is doing great, the wound will be a purple scar for at least another few weeks, but everything is better than the crater I was creating by trying to get it out myself.
So I'm back, I've left my bad mood behind and I'll start blogging about my usual nonsense again as soon as I've got the results of the lab tests, just to be sure everything is 110% okay again.

Exam week changes you. I had already seen it happen to my friends when the had exams last year. But when E. started about flipping and tripping and shaking I thought it was slightly exaggerated. I'd be fine. It wouldn't be that bad.