Last night was pretty interesting. Alex and I were playing Busta Move (it's a dancing game, sorta like Dance Revolution) on the PlayStation in Stephen's room when two people, a guy and a girl went in. The guy had a pierced nose, I think and the girl was heavyset but pretty in a bitchy sorta way. They both wore that bored look the "cool" people usually have on. It was hard to believe I was standing in the same room with "cool" people without choking to death from, well, overcoolness. Anyway, after Stephen introduced me to Rachel and Borj, we decided to hang out by the swimming pool where Rachel's friends were swimming. I didn't really feel like going out of Stephen's house because I was suffering a sneezing, allergy-type attack but then I went along with the rest of them.

Meeting Rachel was really insightful. It really made me think of my values in life. Sounds corny, but it's true. If it were not for Alex and Stephen (and my conscience and my bet with my dad), I might've gotten my first taste of a cigarette last night. See, somehow we got into the subject of smoking and drinking, and then I said remarked that I was wondering how smoking felt like. "Sure go ahead," Rachel said, pointing to a nearby bench where Borj was sitting by himself. Beside him were several cigarette packs.

My curiousity was reaching a climax, then. What was it about smoking that got people addicted to it anyway? If I tried it, would I like it? Would it give me an allergy attack as I am allergic to a lot of things? Would I be grounded if my parents found out? Before I could say anything, Stephen said, "Well, our group is anti-smoking and anti-drinking."

My ass was saved! "And anti-drug taking and anti-dating," I muttered.

"We must not forget, we're also anti-John!" Alex added triumphantly.

One puff of a cigarette was all it would take for me to kiss my BMW goodbye. Thank God I didn't do it.

We hung out with Rachel until her friends were done swimming and taking their showers. Then we went our own seperate ways. Alex invited Rachel to her sixteenth birthday in two weeks and no offence, but I sorta hope she won't be able to come. She's an okay person, but I don't think she would leave a very pretty mark on this growing stage of my life.

Alex and I are going shopping tomorrow. See, my dad's invited to go to this Philharmonic orchestra thing on Monday night and he wants the whole family to go. I was like, "Zzz" when my mom told me about it but she added that he wants me to buy a dress for it. That woke me up. Since my sister is not a reliable fashion consultant, I decided to bring a friend along and Alex would be perfect, since her parents want her to wear a dress too for her sixteenth birthday posh-type dinner. Of course, my dad has rules about everything and he even has rules for the dresses I wear: nothing with spaghetti-straps. Nothing tight. Nothing short. Nothing backless. Nothing sheer. Nothing with a plunging neckline. Nothing that emphasizes the boobs and the butt!

Ever heard of an early childhood? Well, I think I'm headed towards early grandmotherhood. My dad is so paranoid I will turn into--how do I put this mildly--a Saturday-night slut. He had to abolish the rule of No Sleeveless Tops when I convinced him that all girls wear sleeveless tops. Argh! Once we were eating dinner out, and I mentioned that after I take guitar lessons, I'm going to join a band with a couple of my school friends. He looked at me and said, "I can imagine you in a band, all right. In a long skirt playing the cello, that is." He's probably met slutty-type girls when he was a teen because he was pretty wild himself. Maybe that's why he's so paranoid about me. Well, he should know that he's got nothing to worry about--I don't enjoy wearing short stuff much. And I don't have any decent underwear so I won't be wearing any sheer stuff. I believe that underwear shouldn't be seen. That's why they're called underwear.

Anyway, the good part is, he allowed me to buy Nike sandals. Cool! Among my friends, I am the only one who doesn't own anything by Nike. My friends love Nike to death. Alex says she wants to be buried in her Nike jersey and her Nike watch. If anyone dares take them from her grave, she will haunt that person till he/she is driven completely insane. This afternoon, I went to Stephen's house and it was an invasion of Nike stuff! Alex was wearing Nike sandals, the step-on kind. Chris was wearing Nike Air shoes. Stephen was wearing a Nike jersey. I was wearing a pair of Levi's, a black shirt with some Chinese characters on it and sandals that weren't by Nike. Actually, I don't really like Nike much. Let my friends have the jerseys and the Nike watches; I'm taking the sandals. Oh, how I love footwear.

That's it for tonight. Have fun--after all, today's a Saturday. Oh wait, before I go, I thought I should let you know how my grades are. Well, I improved in a couple of subjects like Philippine History and Values Education. I can't believe my grades in Filipino went up by one point! That's a major achievement because I'm not so good in Filipino. But man, I think my grade in English sucks. But I can improve that--I am Lauryn, and English is supposed to be my forte. I must be in love. I read in a book that one sign of real love is that your grades go up because you are inspired. It's infatuation if your grades go down. Dear love, whoever and wherever you may be, I owe you one. Thank you for saving my ass.