Confessions of a Chocoholic

That's not exactly what this post is about, but close enough. And it sounds cool XD
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Advice Day:

Source: Me
Advice: "Chocolate is dangerous. Consume in moderation."
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Play practice tonight :) Yayy! I still love it.

So, I wrote my short allegory for school today. I would like to put more finishing touches on it and polish it a little more, but I only had today to do it. Might go back and work on it some more. I don't really like it, but I don't completely hate it. It's just kind of blah. I'll post it at the end of this if you want to read it, but don't feel like you have to.

Today begins the first bianual Strange Confessions Week. Because...I feel like it. *blink*

Strange Confession #1: I get hurt in my dreams.

I know what you're thinking. Wow, big deal. I've gotten shoved off a skyscraper in my dreams before, too. Not exactly a confession, and not strange either. That's all true.

But you don't actually BRUISE from falling off that dream skyscraper.

I do.

I wake up with actually bruises from stuff that happened in dreams, and scratches and sore muscles, too.

The scratches thing seems easy to explain, doesn't it? I scratched myself in the middle of the night, and then I dreamed about it. Or, I dreamed about it and then scratched myself. Either way. Unfortunately, that theory flops.

Because, flexible as I am, even I can't make several long scratches stretching from my left shoulder to my right hip, and right shoulder to left hip, and neck to back, etc. etc..

Yes, that has happened to me before. How? Why? *shrug* Who knows? Not me.

End of Strange Confession #1.

*sigh* I feel like my posts are getting weird, strange, stupid, and in other ways not...not...not something. Something about my posts is different, and I can't put my finger on it. They're almost...darker or something. Do you think so, too?

*shakes head* I don't know. I think I'm going to stop typing now. I need to figure myself out. I'm sorry for being so weird. I promise I'm going to try to get back to however it was I used to be :-/


Allegory:

“Do you realize what today is?” Rennite asked Felon as they walked home from middle school. Felon frowned, glancing at her best friend with a quizzical look.
“No,” she said, tossing her dark hair out of her eyes. “What is it?” Rennite grinned.
“It’s our two month anniversary of being best friends!” she cried. Felon smiled back.
“Oh, yeah,” she agreed. “I guess we did meet two months ago at…um, where was it?” Rennite frowned.
“Elizabeth’s birthday party,” she reminded. Felon nodded.
“Oh, yeah, that was it,” she said. “Do you want to come over to my house and celebrate?” Rennite nodded, her straight, red hair catching the sunlight.
“Absolutely,” she agreed. “A little friendship party, for just you and me!” Felon smiled as the two turned into her driveway. Rennite frowned as she spotted someone sitting on Felon’s porch.
“Who’s that?” she asked, pointing. Felon squinted.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Oh, wait, is that the girl that moved in next door to the Rileys’?” Rennite shrugged, looking a bit uneasy.
“I don’t know. Do you think we should invite her inside with us?”
Felon shrugged, too. “Let’s just see what she wants.” That seemed fair enough, so the two best friends approached the lone little girl with smiles.
“Hi!” Rennite greeted, trying to be welcoming. “What’s your name?” The girl smiled, revealing perfect white teeth. Her curly, blonde hair bounced as she got to her feet.
“Temporania,” she answered. “I just moved here.” She turned to Felon. “Our moms were talking yesterday and they think we should get to know each other, since we’re both in sixth grade and everything.”
“Oh, sure,” Felon said. She tucked a loose strand of black hair behind her ear. “Um, wanna come inside? Rennite and I were just gonna have a snack.” Temporania smile brightly.
“Sounds great!”
Rennite nibbled her lip. Oh well. They could celebrate the friendship thing later…
“I love your house!” Temporania cried, looking around. Felon smiled faintly.
“Thanks. My mom likes to decorate stuff.” Rennite nodded.
“Yeah, her mom has a great eye for colors,” she said, heading for the kitchen. The other two followed. Temporania sat down at the dining room table, Felon got out the cookies. Rennite poured everyone glasses of milk. An awkward silence hovered over the three.
“So, what school are you going to go to?” Rennite asked Temporania. Temporania swallowed the last of her third cookie and answered,
“Just the public school. Right up the road. Is that where you two go?”
“Yes,” Rennite and Felon said in unison. Temporania beamed.
“Great! It’ll be nice to know some people already.” Rennite frowned and looked away. She didn’t want to snub this girl or anything, but the way she was horning in on Felon’s and her afternoon…
“Oh, hello, girls,” Felon’s mom walked in, smiling. “Felon, Rennite, I see you’ve met Temporania. She just moved in down the street. I was hoping you’d all get together.” Temporania, of course, smiled. Felon raised an eyebrow. Rennite looked away. Sensing the awkwardness, Felon’s mother suggested the girls play a game.
After a few minutes of polite, “Oh, I don’t care, whatever you want”, the game Sorry! was selected. They played three games, two of which Temporania one, and Felon one the last one.
“I guess I better head home to start homework,” Rennite said around four-thirty.
“I should probably go, too,” Temporania said, to Rennite’s relief. Felon smiled to both of them.
“Alright. I’ll see you in school tomorrow!” she called as the two other girls exited.
After dinner of , Rennite called Felon.
“Too bad we didn’t get a chance to celebrate our friendship monthaversary!” Rennite said, half joking, half serious. She could almost see Felon shrugging on the other side of the phone.
“Yeah, that was too bad. Temporania seems nice, though.” Rennite frowned.
“I guess so. I’m just a little miffed that she horned in our day. I guess she is nice, though.”
“Sure,” Felon agreed. “My mom says we’ll all be good friends. She invited Temporania and her family for dinner tomorrow night.”
“That’s cool,” Rennite said, starting to feel better. She and Felon were best friends. How could one girl change that?

The next day at school, Temporania continued being the bright, open girl she’d been the day before. Most everyone loved her, students and teachers alike. Rennite shrugged off her feelings of resentment and began to like her, too.
The feelings came back that night, though, when Felon called to talk about what a great evening her family had had with Temporania’s. Rennite tried to feel happy that Felon had a good time, but the way Felon talked about Temporania made her jealous.
Shrugging off the feelings once again, Rennite finished the conversation and went to bed.

“Finally, lunch,” Rennite said to Temporania and Felon as they made their way to the cafeteria the next day. “I’m starving!”
“Definitely,” Temporania agreed. “I could eat just about anything right now.” She looked at Felon, her eyes gleaming. “As long as it’s not plastic!” Felon burst out laughing and Temporania joined in. Rennite blinked and laughed hesitantly. It wasn’t that funny…
“Sorry,” Temporania gasped as soon as she could speak. “Inside joke.” The words hit Rennite like a punch in the stomach. An inside joke? Rennite bit her tongue to keep from telling Temporania to keep her inside jokes inside.
The three girls settled at their usual table and began unpacking their lunches.
“Look what I brought,” Felon whispered to Temporania. She whipped out two brownies—only two.
“Oh my gosh,” Temporania said. She groaned with a smile, as if she’d just heard a bad joke. “I’m guessing they’re not—”
“No, they’re fine,” Felon interrupted, grinning. Temporania took the brownie and tucked it into her lunchbox, ignoring Rennite. Feeling like she needed to prove her closeness with Felon, Rennite repeated one of their own inside jokes. Felon stared at Rennite for a moment.
“Ohhhh,” she realized. “I remember that.” She turned to Temporania and began explaining the inside joke in great detail. Rennite ate her lunch in silence, listening to Felon and Temporania finish each others’ sentences about the evening before.

After she finished her chores that day, Rennite decided to see if Felon wanted to come over and hang out. She picked up the phone and dialed the number she knew by heart.
“Hello?” came Felon’s voice.
“Felon? Hi! It’s Rennite!”
“Oh. Hi.” Was it just Rennite, or did Felon sound…disappointed? “What’s up? I can’t talk long. Temp—er, I have something I have to go do.”
“Oh.” Rennite swallowed hard. “Well, I just wanted to see if you wanted to come over, but I guess you can’t. What about tomorrow afternoon?”
“Maybe,” Felon didn’t sound too sure. Rennite heard the doorbell ring on Felon’s end of the line. “Oh! Gotta go! Talk to you later!”
Click.
Rennite lowered the phone, tearing up. She angrily slapped the tears away and set to work on her homework. If Felon would rather hang out with Temporania than her, fine. If Felon wanted to throw away two months of friendship, fine. If Felon would rather explain inside jokes to Temporania than to Rennite, fine.
But Rennite didn’t have to sit alone all day and listen to it.
Later that night, Rennite called one of her other friends and made a sleepover date for that Friday.

Over the next week, Temporania told Rennite at least fifty million stories about herself and Felon over lunch. Felon always eagerly jumped in to help tell the stories. Rennite tried very hard not to talk over Temporania with her own “me and Felon” stories, but it grew increasingly difficult.
After a couple of weeks of this, Felon stopped phoning Rennite entirely. She created a new email address and kept “forgetting” to give it to Rennite. Instead of Temporania being the one to initiate the inside jokes and stories, Felon began to start them, too. When Felon’s parents went out of town, she stayed with Temporania, not Rennite. Felon and Temporania made up a secret code, and used it around Rennite. At birthday parties and church, Felon out-and-out ignored Rennite when she tried to speak to her.
Pretty soon, Rennite decided that Felon no longer wanted to be her friend at all. She started getting close to another girl, Fidelia. Rennite and Fidelia became close friends as Felon and Temporania did. Soon, the two pairs had almost nothing to do with each other.
Somewhere around Christmas, Rennite spotted Temporania and Felon with a new girl. They all seemed to be getting along fine. Of course, by this time, Rennite honestly did not care, and went about her own business with Fidelia. She didn’t think another thing of it until Felon randomly called one day.
“Hi, Rennite!” she said brightly over the phone. Rennite was silent for a moment.
“Hello, Felon,” she said somewhat coldly. “Can I help you?” There was a slight pause.
“Well, no…I mean, I was just calling to talk. What’s up?” Felon said.
“You mean lately, or for the past four months?” Rennite continued in the icy voice.
“Er, both…” Felon said. “Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to come over later?”
“Why?” Rennite asked, almost genuinely curious. “Is Temporania busy?”
“Yeah,” Felon replied before she realized what she was saying. “She and this other stupid girl are out going to the movies or something.”
“You don’t say?” Rennite answered sardonically. “You mean Temporania ditched you for someone else?”
“Yeah, can you believe it?” Felon fumed. “So, what about later? Wanna come over and hang out?”
“Not really,” Rennite said indifferently. “I’ve actually got plans with Fidelia. See you later!”
Click.
And so the unforgiving Rennite decided it wasn’t worth Felon’s disloyal company, and Felon learned the hurt of being friends with someone who’s only looking for temporary companionship.

Symbolism:
1. "Temporanea" is Italian for "temporary"
2. "Felon" is French for "disloyal"
3. Rennite is a name meaning "stubborn"
4. Felon’s hair is black and often shadowing her eyes. This stands for shadiness, disloyalty.
5. Rennite’s hair is straight and red. The straight standing for solid principles, not going to bend for anything. The red stands for being extreme, refusing to mend the friendship.
6. Temporania’s hair is curly, bouncing from one direction to another.
7. The girls play Sorry!, a restatement of what’s to come