....across the room, your mouth slightly curling upwards, though not much, just enough to show you mean to make a friendly face, but you're getting kinda sad at the same time, so you just awkwardly look somewhere else and hope that she recognized it as a smile.

The kind of smile you give somebody who once has been your friend, not a close one, not one you shared secrets with or told about your dreams and hopes and crushes (God forbid), but a friend anyhow, someone you had a laugh with, could gossip about others with (bad, I know, but we actually did that a lot together) and who came to your birthday party. Somebody who you started to disapprove of more often as time went by, and by the end of one school year, you didn't even want to have much to do with her at all, as she acted loud and annoying at times and just very different from you and your actual friends. So, when y'all didn't talk anymore, it was alright somehow.

I don't mean to sound melodramatic, I'm absolutely fine, and I hope she's fine, too, and I'm pretty sure we wouldn't have a whole lot to talk about anyhow - she never really understood my concept of things, to be honest. Our taste in fashion, for instance, doesn't harmonize at all. If I was getting really serious here, I could add how I'm not guilt free of gossiping about her a little, but as you know, I'm not so much about being serious, so we'll leave that there (and it's just my loveliest friend I've been gossiping with and everyone knows that doesn't really count as we're basically one person).

Where was I? Oh, yes, sometimes I remember the days when we still had classes together later on and we wouldn't go up to each other to talk, but at rare occassions, we seemed to share a moment of mutual understanding, was it regarding a joke someone cracked, or something weird someone said, and then we'd smile that uncomfortable yet friendly smile, and I would feel a spark of that light and superficial but never the less existing connection we once had, and that would be a slightly melancholic but still a nice feeling, just for a few minutes there.

Today, she belatedly congratulated me on my birthday, and there it was again, that smile.

Love,

Rosy Smith

Believe me, I've tried. I checked my class schedule and figured out the day I have most classes together with the special someone of that time and planned my outfit according to this, meaning that I usually wore all of my favorite things on these particular occasions. When he didn't show up at school then, it was a very frustrating waste of a perfectly good outfit. When he did show up, he didn't even notice, so it was also a very frustrating waste of a perfectly good outfit. What I'm trying to say is, it does no good to get all dolled up and sparkling just for a particular person who might not even care  - and then feel like a trashbag on all other days because you're thinking "what for?". That's so wrong, it makes me cringe.

Let's play a little imagination game here, shall we? What if, hypothetically, you run into the guy of your dreams on a badly dressed day? Your answer now is probably, well, crap. Now you'll be all alone forever and ever. But that isn't the right conclusion, lovelies! The right conclusion here would be, well, crap, now I missed out on the chance on a love life because I didn't have the guts to talk to him because I'm not wearing my confidence-clothes because I thought I only need them on the days with A-period lunch, and that, everyone, is the fatal mistake.

The first thing we need to get straight here is that you should never, ever, choose your clothes with a view of what your crush, or your boyfriend, or the stranger on the L-train seems to like. The key is to wear something you yourself absolutely adore. If that's jeans and t-shirt, good for you. If that's low-cut and high rising everything, you do you. Because if you are aware of the fact that these clothes look damn fine on you, everybody is going to notice you differently - they will have to think you're fabulous since you leave no doubt to that fact.

So don't ever decide to wear the old shirt you don't really like because its sleeves are kinda too short and you always have to pull at them again, simply because you're not "seeing anyone important today" or to not wear the tight dress which enhances your figure because your boyfriend "doesn't like when you dress provocatively". Your wardrobe is your business and it's also your key to feeling great about the way you look and therefore a whole new attitude! Pick your favorite things every day. If you don't have enough of these, go shopping (Gosh I'm getting too materialistic again).

Everything goes, lovelies.

Love,

Rosy Smith

Maybe you know these meetings with friends you've known for a long time-so long that you still wore braces back then- that turn into a trip down memory lane....Opening boxes and looking at pictures and generally discussing long bygone events like anybody besides you two would still remember them. That recently happened to me and with all the "we should have been more...." and a look into my old diaries, I decided to make some points clear to my young and foolish self.

You are NOT in love with him. You have absolutely no idea what love is. I must know, because I probably still don't have much of a clue about it, but you're most certainly not in love with this self-absorbed, arrogant, ordinary, stupid, weak, crooked-nosed, mean, absolutely uninteresting boy. So stop fussing around and getting frustrated when you could be so happy about the fact that you're not together with him, and forced to get near that gruesome person and spend time with his dumb friends.
He wears scarves in all honesty- how naive are you, lovely?
And STOP writing these pathetic song lines about him, 'cause they're no good and they're only making me cringe SO much because I never think about him at all now, and if I do, it's in complete astonishment (why? WHY?).

Anyways, you just might be a little in lust with this senior guy in the band, but you'll be fine. I mean, you're not gonna get any closer to him within the next four years (sadly), and you'll still loose all your senses whenever you see him and wish you could be happily ever after (badly), but you'll be fine. There will be someone else, someone you actually know something more about than that "he's so gorgeous".

Be mean when you have to. Tell your best friend to tell that psychotic person to screw himself, because really, he doesn't deserve a single second of her thought and he's got some serious mental problems - I guess it's got something to do with self-esteem/sex drive issues and someone has to tell him he needn't worry so much about his tiny....co mmon sense since nobody would want to know more about it after hearing him talk, anyway. Say that. Don't be sorry about it. Don't be polite, because in three years from now, you'll read those messages and see that he's been a douche at all times and you've been way to nice to him. So be more mean.

And while you're at it, don't be so annoyingly kind to that one girl- I know you secretly start to dislike her and hon, it won't get better, so cut the act and ignore her.

Please don't part your hair so deeply to the side. And don't you dare pair that parting with black clothes and pink lipgloss and call it punk-rock chic. It's hideous and I know you mean well and feel super fashion forward, but it's embarrassing to this day and makes you look like the awkward teen you never really were. And why would one want to voluntary dress like that?

Don't feel the need to invite boys to your 15th birthday. Trust me.

Don't filter. Simply make those fabulous sarcastic remarks you have in mind all the time. They're seriously funny and the people who are put off or worse, don't get them, are people you don't need in your life. Don't think so much - or rather, do think out loud, in front of everyone. It'll be fun.

I have to get back on that sidepart again. It's just so wrong. Also, get some heeled boots for winter and wear more skirts, because they look dang good on you. Take Anna Wintour's advice and don't ever put together an all black outfit until you know how to be elegant in it. Oh, and don't clip your hair up in that little curly wannabe-an-updo. Get a curling iron and use it, for God's sake. Your split ends won't get better, no matter what you do, so you might as well put heat on them as much as you need to get nice and soft curls.

I think I'll stop here, 'cause really, you're already doing pretty well. Write every day. Play the piano and sing all the time. And dance, always dance.

Love,

Rosy Smith

So, lovelies, I'm writing this at 1 pm in my leggings and a slouchy sweater on a Thursday, after sleeping til half past nine and having breakfast watching The Big Bang Theory until 11 while everyone else is at work or school. Get it? Get it??

I'm done with high school, everyone! Tomorrow I'll officially graduate and finally get my diploma so that I can brag about it with proof in my hands.

Of course, that is not the only thing  that comes with gradutaion: There's also the big ceremonial part which will last forever and probably not be very exciting, except for the chance to look your very best and shine your brightest at school for one last time- and get some very nice pictures in the process. Oh, and a whole new part of life and all that. What's not to love?

That's been my mindset regarding this day up until now. Because now, I've watched a YouTube Video on How To Get Ready For A Big Event. Oh my. Don't do that unless the event ist about a month away, or you'll freak out like I did.

For example, it says: 1 week before X, start working on your complexion. It is currently about 14 hours before X and I have yet to brush my teeth. And fix my eyebrows. And get a pedi. And I'm in the choir and I can't find my sheet music.

But hey, I've got my sparkly black dress and my sparkly black Steve Madden heels and I sorta know what hair and makeup look I'm going for - wait, I need to buy some blush and bronzer (mine broke on vacation. Big mess.)- so everything should be alright....I hope. I seriously have to start on all of this now.

Gotta run and turn into the Homecoming Queen version of myself in less than a day; wish me luck.

Love,

Rosy Smith