April 3, 2010. Saturday
20:05

Hello you, whoever dared to secretly sneak into my room, creep under my queen sized bed, throw away all the lighters, kitty toys, stupid ugly green scarf, that grandma knitted me and that supposedly 'went missing' so I don't have to wear it and whatever else Geisha, my cat, dragged under there, and take my diary, the most intimate thing besides dad's PlayBoy magazine which he hides from mom, that we have in this house, and now hold it in your hands. Did mommy and daddy ever tell you it's not good to take other people's stuff? It would obviously be too late now.

I mean here hides all the dirtiest, ugliest, secriest and hottest things that me and my crazy friends have ever done. And God, hit me with your almighty saint hand, if there isn't a lot of them. Since you read this right now, I guess you become the new member of our girl-sect, that started when we were about 7, ended when we were 7 and half, and now began again. Evil laugh would be cool now, but my throat is aching after the ear drums breaking karaoke singing with Stace. You will hear about the Leggy Monster later, I promise.

Now since you will find out things, that I wouldn't even trust to Geisha, who can't betray me cause cats don't talk, I guess it wouldn't hurt if you find out who this messy handwriting belongs to. I sincerely hope this will bore you to the point, when you throw this diary exactly where it belongs to be. And sweetie, that certainly isn't your hands.

My name is Melina Perez. Melly, Mel, M or any other shortening you can find for this name. I think it's kind of cool; it means 'honey', but I disagree. I think I'm much sweeter than that ;) Now as much as I love my name, my surname kind of sucks. It's like Perez Hilton, only it's his name and my surname. Everyone hail English language! But seriously, don't get me wrong. I like to sometimes check out the guy's website and sometimes I even find interesting BS in it, but everything else about him is just. . . bah. Like, if you create a website and make money out of it, you could at least buy Photoshop and edit your photos with it instead of using a simple, primitive Paint. Am I right or am I right?

I knew you would agree with me.

Anyway, Melina Perez aka Me ( with the big first letter ), is an 18 year old girl and so are all the other members of the Girl-Sect, so if you're younger than that - shew-shew! Just kidding, you had to take my ugly scarf in your hands and throw it away to get this diary, after doing that, I think it's fair if you keep it for awhile. Just don't forget to put it in it's place after you're done! Oh and I have to worn you - if you're below 18, there's a big possibility you'll be bullied. Kidding again. How can I can possibly do that, when you're hidden in your room and I'm probably shopping with the girls?

I'll have to ask Ames about it. She's the one with creative mind.

Back to topic - not that I ever drifted off it - I go to high-school's 12th grade and live in Los Angeles. The city of angels, as they say. God would get a hart attack if he seen the angel like me. Oh, wait! God sees everyone, right? Then maybe he already got the hart attack? Explains why the kids are starving on streets, while adults are too busy worrying about war, natural disasters and where to buy cheaper, but better coffee. Don't they know that 'expensive = best'? Tell them that if they ask you. We need to spray around the right message.

In high-school we're brutally forced to wear the ugliest piece of potato sack. . . I mean clothing ( no, I don't ), that for some strange reason they call a uniform. It's an ugly knee length dark blue-green skirt and a white shirt. Since white shirts quickly gets dirty, we're allowed to sometimes wear white shirts from our own wardrobes. That's the fun part. I still remember when I came to school with a see-through white shirt, Stacy with the half-shirt, Trish with the biggest cleavage ever, Candy with a sexy neck shirt and Amy with a nice note on it. The word on her shirt rhymed with 'luck'. Skirts don't do too much problem either since usually we just pick them up to our waists and tie it up with stylish belts. If one of us comes with a normally added skirt. . . it's a hint that she has some issues in her personal life.

Oh and. . . we have to wear blue ties on special dates, jackets when it's cold. Candice swore she would rather go shaking with a little shirt when it's raining instead of wearing that thing. I give the girl props for her dedication to fashion.

And now it would be cool if you meet my besties, who will take a lot of place in this diary. There's four of them and I already mentioned them. We five ( if we're not counting you and Torrie, who desperately wants to become a member ) are the Girl-Sect.

Stacy Keibler - The Leggy Monster. I hate it how she can eat all these pancakes, pies, candies and buns and still be in perfect shape. Everyone's staring at her 42 inch legs. When in 8th grade we were in camp and had to make our flag, some freak suggested to draw her legs. And everyone agreed. Stace thinks that The Simpsons were invented by the genius and she wants to marry Bart when he grows up. Until that time she has Johnny Boy aka John Cena. Needless to say, he hates Simpsons. The two met in movie shop, where she works. He was looking for a movie to rent and watch with his buddies, he picked up the naughty and scary one. Hour later he stormed back in the shop all red and started shouting that she put the wrong disc in shell, so instead of seeing the horror movie they saw the romantic one. All of his friends thought he was gay and poor Johnny had to beat up the beast that Dave Batista is to get his reputation back. He then said that things like in that movie can never repeat in reality and she completely agreed with him. They love each other for sure, but they don't need the rose leaves in bed, walks in the night and serenades under the window. The two are the most physically active people I know.

Amy Dumas - The Punk Einstein. Amy's very smart, she's a straight A student. She's quiet and straight-forward, a very trustable person. Amy used to sing in a band called The Luchagors, but then her parents forbid her, cause they felt it's doing bad to her. Yeah, and their endless arguments are any better. Some idiots call her a bitch cause she had quite a few boyfriends - like it's her fault that guys find her interesting and attractive. Am I right or am I right? That's my catch-phrase ;) Ame's single for now. A guy named Phil Brooks has an eye or two on her, but I doubt if he can compare with her ex boyfriend Adam Copeland and Amy is one of those girls, who always tops her previous game.

Trish Orton ( formerly Stratus ) - Yep, you guessed it, she's married. To none other than Randy Orton, a man that is a little bit out of it to say the very least, a man, who was forced to take anger management classes TWICE. Can you believe it? It's a loveless marriage. They met at the start of the school year ( Randy's going to University and he's 22 ), started dating, then she accidentally got pregnant and their parents forced them to get married. At least his father, Bob, bought them a luxury house in one of the skyscrapers of LA, where we love to spend time whenever he's out of town. Which is pretty often. The name of their son is Ryan Justin Orton, the cutest one year old boy you'll ever hear about. He has those blue eyes, which he got from Randy and he's so small, it seems all you need to do is give him a fillip to the back and he'll fall down. Name 'Ryan' means 'little king' and judging by the presents he gets from his grandparents, the name fits him perfectly.

Candice Michelle - The Candy Diva. A total sweetie. Doesn't like romance but is very lovely. She's always up for fun, if I tell you I'm going to a party then it's 90% possibility that it's in her house. Likes to dance, she even has a signature dancing move which is called "Go Daddy". She raises her hands and slowly turns around, moving her hips and hands at the same time. It's sexy and guys likes to watch her unless me and Stace grab mics and start to scare everyone off with our singing. Amy is nice enough not to show us how it's really done. Candy might be pregnant, she ran off to buy a pregnancy test with Trish, who's already experienced in this. There's two candidates of who's the daddy. I really hope it's Matt Korklan, cause he would make a better 19 years old jobless dad than Chris Irvine, who probably still doesn't even know where kids come from. He can always ask Trish's sister Angelina, who would definitely not only tell him, but show it too. Eww.. . that kind of sounded disgusting, didn't it? Anyway. . .

Now since you probably already dropped this diary back under my bed, scared of all this boring BS I'm writing with my un-readable hand writing ( Stacy says it's more like a chicken-leg writing ), I guess it's safe for me to continue with even more BS. This time it's about. . . oh Christ. . . boys.

John Morrison – Shaman of Sexy. The owner of the sexiest ass to ever grace LA. His jaw line is perfect and his skin. . . his skin smells better than any flower you will ever steal from `Please don't pick flowers' park area. He wears these black sunglasses with crosses straight on them, his long black hair cuddles his perfect face and his jaw-dropping 8 pack is the most impressive thing besides the height of Stacy's legs in this entire damn city. Too bad, he's as cocky as two heel The Rocks combined. His attitude makes me hate him, but the second he shuts up, I'm in love with him again. Why can't he stay silent all the time? And when will the idiot ask me out already? Like I haven't noticed him staring at me every break. This train doesn't wait, baby! Who am I kidding? This train will wait forever if your name is John and your fake surname is Morrison.

John Cena – The Johnny Boy. He's a manipulator, and not necessarily it's a bad thing. He acts all goody-goody in front of teachers and his blue eyes never fails to make them believe his non-existent innocence. But just wait for a break and he turns into sarcastic, laid-back and very self confident guy, that will never show you his soft side unless your name is Stacy, second name Marie and last name Keibler. Very good looking guy. When he was forced to watch Titanic, instead of crying when Jack died, he called him a Gothic guy with black lips. Always jokingly teases Trish about being a young mother. That's unless Randy's around, talking of who. . .

Randy Orton – A Psycho Viper. He really looks like one of those dangerous guys, who ran away from the prison, where he got after killing 10 people. Randy's tall, about 6'5, and he's got the sleeve tattoos with skulls. When you get a tattoo, you gotta be sure that the picture will be beautiful for you to look at for about as long as you breathe, so the skulls was a good decision for Randy. He's handsome. . . really handsome. When a shadow of his tall body got near me and the girls for the first time, I had to remember if I haven't seen him in one of those Armani underwear posters, next to Christiano Ronaldo and David Beckham. Too bad, I haven't. He doesn't talk too much, his eyes say it all. Of course, he's cheating on Trish, but she doesn't even blame him, because she doesn't miss a chance to stare at the hot guys here in school too. The only difference, she can go any further than staring, because well. . . it's high school.

Phil Brooks – Straight Edge Smoker. Stupid nickname, but that's how everyone calls him when they're not lazy to just call him Smoker, Punk or simply Pill ( as of Phil ). Do I hear you thinking how did he get this nickname? Do you know those chocolate cigarettes, that are quite rare, therefore, very popular? Well the straight edge guy, one who doesn't drink, smoke or do drugs, was caught with one :O The Pill nickname is just us teasing him about his lifestyle, which is very respectable by the way. Especially since Stacy's boyfriend, Trish's husband and my should-be-boyfriend all don't resist alcohol in parties and if that's not enough Randy smokes and John's probably on steroids, cause it can't possibly be his hard work in gym that got him those muscles, right? Talking of muscles, John M and Randy got them too. Their bodies are simply perfect. Oh and, Phil is really into Amy. He even asked me and the girls to help him get with her, but it's not how you get your dream girl! You have to fight for her, not just bribe her friends, dork!

Sorry. . . I'm PMSing for what it seems forever. Stupid Eve, just couldn't keep her ass from the apple and got us all this curse! What was her problem, really? Like really really? It's not some Milky Way chocolate, zephyr or a caramel cookie. . . it's just a freaking simple apple! And not even sprayed with chemicals one, so it couldn't possibly be all that big. And God was just a little strict with her too, don't you think? I mean he's almighty for crying out loud! He cursed the entire human race. . . for an apple? Really, God? Really?

Oh, 'f' word!!! Does it really feel so bad that I've been hanging out with Mike Mizanin aka The Miz lately? 'Really, insert a name? Really?' is his catchphrase just as 'Am I right or am I right?' is mine. It's not my fault, you know. He's been following me everywhere I go. He's one of those guys, who can't get the meaning of the word `no`, I was already planning on sending the Psycho Viper aka Randy on him, but then I changed my mind once I remembered I'm a woman. Don't you dare to raise your eyebrow in confusion right now! Let me explain ( though you should be the one explaining why my diary is in your hands ). A woman, even if it's a nun, is a smart bitch. Did I just call nuns bitches? Anyway, while a man gets pissed off in certain situations and start looking for their way out, we, women, we look for the positive side of things. I found it. Does Miz and John M being the best of friends ring a bell?

God, I love myself. You should too, you know.

Anyway, I got the message from Stacy and I wonder what she wants from me. I should really ( damn that word! ) change my ring tone. Do you have any advices? I was thinking of using "I made it" by Kevin Rudolf, some of Lady Gaga's or Rihanna's hits, but then I remembered those funny ring tones like "You've got a new reading exercise'' or ''You've got a new love letter". But that's just me trying to get you to tell me who you are so I could confront you later.

Anyway, my wrist is hurt from writing, I really want to read my message and after staring at these pages I want to see something pretty, so I'll just go near the mirror.

See you later bitchez,

Melina