a quickie list of the best people in my life:
it’s gotten to the point where i actually can’t enter someone’s real name into my phone. everyone has a double identity to me.

Guys 
Aladin. he came out of no where and i trusted him immediately. a charmer that has proven himself, he’s too passionate for me, but is great to have as a friend. i drew up some pieces for his SaucyGnomeProject
Beau Sourire. I spent about 5 days with him and it’s pretty likely that i will never see him again but he taught me a lot about life and love and who i am. He’s from NNNorthern France, so he’s not the typical striped shirt, beret, cold demeanor and cigarette frenchie. He loves to smile. I’m entered in his phone as “Tracy BEAUTIFUL SMILE!!!!<3” and so he is in mine, mais en francais.
Bromine. we snowboard together and took Chemistry after school as an extra class together. bro-mine. ‘nough said.
Christopher-Isn’t-His-Name. first time we met we talked about how we don’t remember peoples names. we exchanged numbers (w/o intention) and i put in christopher by accident.. long story. i went about a year still not knowing his real name because it never was necessary.. i recently told him i didn’t know, and i forgot what he said it was.. don’t worry i found out today!
Hussy. He’s not the sharpest tool in the shed but he is super funny and fun and he kicks ass at skateboarding. chill guy, glad to know him.
Jake Suave. so i’ve considered this guy a tool as long as i’ve known him, but chosen to endure it. everyone has a tooly friend. he’s not mean or anything, he’s just a tool belt. miraculously, i’ve been able to maintain friends with all of my ex boyfriends, including him. he really likes girls, and he says what he thinks people want to hear without even realizing it. he’s not all that bright and therefore, gets offended easily. but he means well.
JuneBug. my bro. we have the same birthday. and get along crazy well. never fought except about what pigment really is and sciency stuff because we are hopelessly nerdy. he breathes music and can play anything.
Freshman Syndrome. biggest crush in the world on this boy my freshman year. significant enough that he is forever labeled in reference to it. he’s actually a total nerd and goof, and really bad a drinking but he’s great to have around.
FDM. the acronym is confidential. used to be the greatest guy i’ve ever known. he just fits me. he’s in the army now. also goes by Beeper, BradPitt, and Achilles.
Mexico. so he’s a babe. greatest freckles. really grounded. sandy brown hair. awesome possum sense of style.  mountain royalty, a shop guy, snaboarding defines him. grew up with him. aaand oh he’s taken. ouch.
Orlando. before we met, i saw him around all the time. he’s got the whole brooding, mysterious, vampiric vibe going on. so from an early time i decided we would be best friends. and so we are. he’s a killer bassist. lots of girls are in love with him and he is oblivious. overall A+friend.
Tarzan. too promiscuous for his own good. there is nothing bad to say about him until girls get involved. in.sane. skater and snowboarder. i love him, he’s real nice, i just wish he didn’t love sex quite as much. hah he fucks up my life
Scoot. everything that comes out of his mouth is just out of no where. like half the time i just can’t believe he says what he says. I love him for it. we could talk about the most awkward of subjects for long durations of time and it’s totally normal. again, A+ material
Shaftastic. this is my favorite teacher. don’t let the name fool you, i actually do love him. i mean, i got his jersey, that has to mean something. he’s brilliant and cruel and hilarious. he doesn’t give slack and loves me back
TheSky. we have exactly the same taste in movies and music. never met a mate that way who appreciated 80s flicks and hanson like me. had the most awkward moment ever with him. we were walking at night and i said “I love the sky” and he thought i said “i love this guy” and the way i said it would have implied him… cleared up quickly.
Taxi. he would quite literally do anything for me. just because he’s the nicest guy… and would love to get in my pants even though he knows that it’s not happening. he’s fun
1sun. my sunshine. he’s got the greatest gold curls and he loves music and is just an incredibly goofy hilarious guy. he brings out the accidentally suggestive comments in me more than anyone. that or he just notices them more than anyone. i also call him SoyJoy. he’s fun to cuddle

Gals
Ballsagna. Okay, total misnomer. I’m more likely to refer to her as Ferngully anyways, but that title is a great rep of the great times we’ve had. This girl is Bad in the best way. The ultimate Pink Lady 
Biz. in my phone as Biz Naz, it’s hard not to explode laughing when you’re around her. honestly just a great time.
BeFine. she’s witty. she’s clever. she’s bizarre beyond reason. i’ve grown up with her and she always understands what i’m saying even though i’m frickin weird. she’s got a thing for jazz and we have crazy photoshoots together.
Diances with Wolves. first time we met, she was tribal dancing at soccer camp. she’s one of those hippie stoners with a successful musician dad.
Emillion. she’s moody and dark and i wouldn’t trade her. met her at my place of work. she was fired. we keep in touch and snawbird
FlyKicks. Blonde bomb stoner girl who always has something clever to say. I would never turn down a chance to kick it with this G because she’s just as odd as me and always has a smile on
Fox Craft. have to love her when you first meet her. she’s a fiery redhead who is the teen dream girl. i love her and she some how accumulates thousands of inside jokes with everyone and never forgets a single one. we have all the same childhood experiences, but we didn’t have them together. we’re in a hoemance.
Glorrria. so we once ran around the woods taking pictures, shouting at the earth to put it to sleep, pretending we were woodland fairies. she’s the only person in the world who can make me feel 100% anytime something’s getting at me, no matter what it is.
Lizzie McGuirre. i’m her Gordo. one of my best friends ever. she’s the ultimate babe. wittiest and smartest person i know. looks and charm. quiet at first, but once she starts, that girl is a force in her own league.
MyCarmine. i just fucking love her. she’s a shop girl who loves metal and is stellar. period.
Oneness. she had a dream once where everyone called her the “oneness” great story actually. nicest person in the world. she’s Australian and a blonde bomshell. great ethics. and she’s got sass
PolishedLover. if anyone comes up in my life the most, it’s probably this girl right here. she spent last year in france, and i don’t know how the world didn’t stop spinning. we can talk about anything. she’s a good opposite to me too. i’m ultra laid back and she requires order. extremely fun. i am her bohemianLover
Sandy. one of the realest people i’ve ever met. she never tries to be anything but herself, there’s no reason to. She is independent and cultured, and has pretty great taste in foreign and rap music

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now i suppose it’s only fair that i reflect a little judgment upon myself and try and define me. blah i feel so cheesy

(1) i’m irrational and (2)quirky and have (3)conflicting personalities. (4)a lot of times i lack common sense, and i blame it on my home life which honestly does lack common sensibility, i just pretend to be normal in public. (5)but my brain works logically, i swear. math is sometimes the only thing that makes sense to me, even if humans made it up to represent reality when they had no other explanation.

(6)i act impulsively at the worst occasions and over analyze the insignificant, but ask any girl my age and she’ll say the same.

(7)i used to be naturally just good at everything but lately i’m just moderate. always in-between. as in, i’m not bad i guess but i’m really not great at anything. cept fucking art. which when you think about it, sucks hardcore. there is nothing to do with art. except make it, and then it exists, just like all the other art in the world. and i know all art is different, but with billions of people on this earth, there will always be a piece of artwork that isn’t the same, but provokes the same sensations as my piece. making my contribution insignificant. fucking angst. sorry

(8)i was cursed with art at birth. the moment i was born into my family. all of my older sisters are amazing artists and my older brother is a musical prodigy, so surprise, i’m no different. but sometimes i’m not sure if i’m good because it’s my blood and i can’t help it, or because i was so afraid, as a kid, to not be like sisters, because i don’t look like them, so i tried so hard to draw well and it just stuck.*

(9)i actually really love romeo and juliet, every version. i know it’s stupid and cliche and predictable, but somewhere in there, it hits me just right. i guess that’s why Shakespeare has been famous for so long. saps like me. i bet willy was gay.

(10) my eyes are dangerous. every guy who has fallen for me didn’t really fall for me, he fell for my eyes. i swear it. i have had many a conversation with my eyes alone. it’s a weapon and burden. i can disarm and capture, but i don’t know they’re only in it for the eyes until i’ve reached the ground and have stopped looking at them. they’re a window into my thoughts, but i can control them when i try to. but i get swept away if i like them, which means no control. so if i’m thinking “you’re such a beautiful creature” that is what my eyes will say. i know when it’s happening because they will return the look. i have unknowingly seduced him, and he doesn’t know what hit him. really, he doesn’t know me, but he wants to now. i’ve done this a lot. it hasn’t really lead me anywhere. no place bad, but no place good.

(11) i hate my eyes. they are big. and dark. almost black. with eyelashes for miles. they are decent enough looking, so that’s not why i hate them. i hate not having the same eyes as my sisters’ because we have different fathers.not each of us, just me. they all have the eyes of the man who fathered me and i have the eyes of my biological father who is trying to be my dad when he just isn’t. my eyes remind me how different i am, how genetics affect who i am.

(12) i’m just hitting 5’3” and have disproportionately short legs. it’s awesome.i’m the tallest girl in my family, no matter how strait you stand, brittanyia

(13)sometimes, in the morning, when i’ve slept in and am still half asleep, i’ll nuzzle my face into my pillow and the crinkly noise the clean cotton makes sounds like piano keys to me.

(14) i love soccer. it’s just beautiful. i used to love it more. lately i’ve been sucking because my coach freaks me out, but i’m not complaining about my lack of field time because sucking won’t help my team. i honestly could care less. how much i love it directly relates to how well i play. i’m not feeling the love coach greg.

(15) i don’t make goals because disappointment scares me.

(16) i hate labeling things because i can’t do consistency. the way i see it, label=expectations=potentialdisappointment=fear=screwup.

(17) my self esteem is intact despite how critical i am. i don’t feel bad about about sucking majorly.

(18) it hurts me to lie to people, i really can’t unless i’ve  promised to keep a secret. with myself or otherwise

(19) i have a lot of secrets. i know that it is unhealthy so i try to tell my friends them. there are only two people in the world i would tell everything to. i am more honest in my blog than anywhere.

(20) when i need to rant, but it’s something that is mean, i make a page on my tumblr and just don’t link it to my page… so you can only reach it if you know the url. does that make me a bad person?

**i’ll never be as good as them at art. i have the steady hand for it, and i’m never satisfied with it until it’s somewhat presentable, so the pieces are always realistic looking enough to impress people who don’t dislike me, but i can’t do anything on demand, especially creativity.

everyone assumes i’m going to artschool for college. and yeah i considered it briefly but decided early i wouldn’t because there is nothing to do with art.
i always feel like my creativity is my lowest point, like i’m the wrong creative. When i’m trying, i think of different ideas but i don’t think they’re necessarily aesthetically pleasing. it’s one thing that i can’t stop comparing. i’m always comparing my ability and work and style to all those people i know are more talented and insightful and eclectic than i am. and when i do make something good, it’s by luck. i just throw things on a page and someone is reviewing it and they point out some genius decision i made with the placement about how i “thought about it” when in reality, i just needed a place to put a rock. it’s so complicated, i can’t stand it, i just made no sense i bet. and now my artistic career has gone so far that i don’t know if i’m passionate about or just doing it because i’m expected to be. but then sometimes i can’t sleep because i see a picture in my head that needs to find paper. this only happens at like 3am of course