So, my cousin and I liked the same guy for about 1 or 2 years…

I was around 11 and my cousin was 13, the guy was 14-15 (can’t remember). My first cousins and I grew up together; we saw each other all the time, hung out at each others’ houses during the summer, and apparently had crushes on the same guy…

 

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He was one of the kids from my cousin’s neighbourhood who would hang out with us. This was back in the day, when kids played outside without fear! We used to play hide-and-seek before we were called to dinner. I remember one day I begged to be let out at night with my cousins, just to play hide-and-seek and dodgeball on the streets with them —because it was so hardcore to play those games at 10 pm. I miss those days!

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Anyway, yes we liked the same guy and it was good; there was no competition. As a matter of fact, I clearly remember one day when we both went into my aunt’s room and put on make up and sprayed gallons of perfume, just to impress him. He was my male cousin’s best friend at the time, and we were grateful for this, because that meant he would visit every time we were there (we waited by the window like snails glued on a wall). There was non-stop drooling, and that was helpful, because my aunt never had to worry about washing the floors.

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Long story short, she ended up going out with him a couple of times, because she was closer to his age. I reconnected with him on Facebook a couple of years ago, and it brought good memories (I’m not attracted to him anymore). Unfortunately, we lost communication again. But, my relatives still love to tease me and my cousin about it. It’s funny, because I thought we were subtle about us crushing over him, but I guess not.

How about YOU? Has this ever happened to you?

❤ ❤ ❤ Love, Ellie ❤ ❤ ❤

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Through the eyes of my childhood: Chapter Two: La Hyper Girl

I started these series in order to remind myself of who I used to be, in comparison to who I am today. Here’s part one if you want to follow: Through the eyes of my childhood: Chapter One – Hiding

 

La Hyper girl

I was a hyper child and always ready to go. I think my parents would’ve made great marathon runners from chasing me all over the place ( I even learned how to walk trying to chase my dad). Then again, in my defence, my two grandfathers were athletes and so was my mum, so it was in my blood. Even though, the energy of a hundred suns combined ran through my body, I managed to sleep through the entire night, which is something my parents were incredibly grateful for. Nevertheless, I  could not be left with anyone but my parents or grandparents, without crying. No one ever knew why, but I like to theorize that it’s because I’m naturally sensitive.

One night my parents decided to go out and my aunt (dad’s sister) offered to babysit –if I had a time machine, I would go back and warn her not to. Despite my parents’ concerns about me throwing a fit, my aunt encouraged them to go out and have  fun (she was only trying to be nice, oh poor auntie!) ; little did she know, she was in for quite the night. They left me asleep, but as soon as they left, guess what happened? Yup,  I woke up and started crying (did I somehow managed to install surveillance cameras in my crib?). My aunt tried to calm me, and reassured me it was all going to be fine (because, in a moment of desperation your brain tells you this is logical), but nothing worked. She was smart (and desperate to shut me up), and resorted to digging through the hamper to get my parents’ shirts (so gross,poor aunt), and placed them next to me. It worked! I fell right asleep – sneaky aunt, how you fooled  me! Having had the odd feeling that something awful happened, my parents cut the night short and returned home early. As soon as she saw them, my aunt ran away in tears…nah, just kidding, but she was exhausted. After that night, my mum never left me with anyone, but my grandparents.

To this day, I’m still a hyper woman. It’s helped, though. There are a lot of things I would not have achieved had I not been hyper. However, my friends don’t let me drink coffee when I’m with them (can’t blame them), not because they don’t want me to, but can you imagine what I’d be like with caffeine running through me? I’d say like a rabid raccoon with a splinter in its tongue, trying to escape the gates of hell. I like to joke with them and tell them my steamy cup has coffee in it :p (it’s just peppermint tea). But, this is who I am. I like to enjoy life, heck I like to hate life sometimes, too. I’m not a robot on a happy mode 24/7, but I try to be. I break, I feel, I cry, I panic, I get anxious, but I’ve been in a lot of dark places in the past that I don’t want to go there again. I get bored, but somehow I manage to find something fun to do. I’m still sensitive, and I don’t know, but it’s like I can sense people. No, I don’t have magical powers or have a sixth sense, but I listen to my instincts a lot. If something or someone doesn’t feel right, I don’t accept it. I don’t cry when people approach me or when my relatives visit me –I cry when they leave, though.

This is who I am, and there are things that are just part of me. I never stopped being that baby and child, I just grew alongside them.

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Yup, I’m wearing a wig and sunglasses in this baby pic :p

❤ ❤ ❤ Love, Ellie ❤ ❤ ❤

Through the eyes of my childhood series: Chapter One – Hiding

We all have one thing in common; we were all children. It amazes me at the things I used to do when I was little, and how many of those things have followed me into adulthood. I’ve decided to start these new series called, “Through the eyes of my childhood.” I want to share with you the things I did when I was little, either from memory or the stories my parents have told me. I guess I’m also hoping you experienced the same, so I won’t seem like a lunatic.

First of all, one thing you need to know about me: I don’t drink coffee, because it’s as if I had natural caffeine running through veins on a daily basis. I’m like a possessed squirrel that was possessed by the Tasmanian devil that was possessed by the Road Runner. What I’m trying to say here is that I’m a hyper/happy person. Based on the stories I’ve been told, I used to be the same when I was little. I don’t know if I was a hyper/happy fetus, but it’s best if I don’t ask right now.

One of my favourite things to play was hide-and-go-seek. That game was the easiest for me to play; you just needed to know how to hide and how to find someone. It’s sad that nowadays, the only time I’d play this game would be if I were being chased by a creep, dinosaur, or a zombie. There were moments when I played by myself or with my sister (she’ll tell you I mostly teased her, but don’t listen to her), or I simply hid in order to escape into my own daydreaming world.

My favourite hiding place was my closet. I shared a room with my sister and the closet was big enough for us to fit inside. I sat inside to play with my stuffed animals and dolls. I was afraid of the dark, so I never closed the door, unless I wanted to tease my family. There was an instance when my mom was in the kitchen and I decided to hide in the closet (without telling her I was going to hide) until she figured I was gone and went all over the house to find me. In my mind, it was just a game, but in her mind it was a heartache. In my mind I probably went, “How was I supposed to know she thought I was lost? After all, I knew where I was.” But, she probably knew where I was and just played along. I mean, when I was 2 years old, I unlocked the front door and ran, so she was used to me playing tricks on her all the time (that’s another story I’m gonna tell later).

Nowadays, I have a thing for closets, because they are a great place to hide from reality (or a robber). I have a wooden shelf where I sit and play on the ipod, read, or imagine stories. I’m still waiting to go to Narnia, so perhaps it is my way to prepare for when it happens…I mean, IF it happens. Hey, I can dream 😉

Now I ask YOU, what was YOUR favourite place to hide?

 

 

Of course! The world doesn’t rule me today!