I haven’t written anything since I’ve been home, and I have yet to decided if this is a good thing. It’s probably not.

You see, I’ve decided this is my last teenage summer. It’s nearly impossible to get me to sit and write when the sun is shining and there are just so many wonderful things to do outside my house. I’m never even in my room long enough to think of writing anything, and I’m afraid I’m all out of original thought.

The other day I woke up early and went to the gym with Gina. Afterwards, we went to Mike’s house for breakfast. More people came and each one of us was supposed to bring a breakfast food. Out of laziness, lack of creativity, and college kid status bank accounts, we ended up all bringing fruit. We laughed at our breakfast buffet of 3 containers of strawberries, blackberries, mango, and raspberries. We ended up eating the fruit with crescent rolls stuffed with nutella.  When the crescent rolls were done and we were sick of fruit, the only logical thing to do next was go to the living room and watch a DVD of Justin Timberlake performing live at Madison Square garden.

It’s so silly, but that was literally a perfect morning.

I’m surrounded by such good people here. All I want to do is hang out with my boyfriend, go for bike rides, and lay on the beach. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.  

Because I’m awake, I’m lovely.

One hour of sleep, waiting at the bus stop, thinking about nothing until the fog is interrupted by words too bitter sweet to ignore.

“I never thought it would end like this.”

It’s such a beautiful phrase; one I don’t think I’ve ever heard in real life. “I never thought it would end” implies expectation. Hopes. Like any other semi-positive person she went into this with hopes.

“Like this” implies a situation. An unwanted, unexpected situation. Although you knew “it” (whatever it was) was capable of coming to an end, you didn’t think “this” would be the cause. It’s surprising and you’re hurt. Sometimes nothing is worse than disappointment.

At this phrase I perk up because I know there’s a story here. I take all the energy I can muster and will it to my ears.

“I can’t believe this happened again. Two times. It took me so long to recover the last time.”

She went back to her lover again, even though he previously broke her heart. Is this pathetic? Is it courage? Possibly a little bit of both.

“Don’t make me the bad guy.”

Is it because of her own flaws that things didn’t work? Or is he the problem-the big bad wolf. Did he cheat on her? Does he only treat her fairly when he wants something? Is he manipulative? Or do these two people just don’t work out, and it’s no one’s fault but fate. Maybe they both put in a genuine effort to fix things between them but the stars just weren’t going to align.

“I thought things would be different.”

Things are never different honey. I want to tell her. People evolve, but their cores stay the same.

I want to be her guardian angel. I want to hug her and tell her it’s going to be ok. But, I don’t. I don’t trust my judgement and my stomach hurts. I feel her presence on my back but I don’t dare turn around. Soon we are on the bus and I’m trying to sleep, but as witness I carry a piece of her dread. I’m taking this journey to visit my boyfriend. She’s going back home, and alone. Hopefully to friends, but right now she is alone.

It is in this moment as I’m finally drifting to sleep, that I finally realize my worst fear. And I hate myself for being so stereotypical, and I need you more than ever.

I passed my friend Jackie as I walked out of Newhouse, about to pick up some Jerk Magazines that needed to be distributed.

“You look nice!” I told her, and she did. “Going to a sorority event?”

She said yes, and asked me what I was up to.

“Jerk proofs,” I said, and explained that as intern that meant I ran some errands, sat and did homework, and went for a food run.

“Food run?” she laughed at me. “So, you’re basically pledging.”

“No I’m not!” I replied, surprised she would say that.

“Yes you are,” she insisted.

I thought about it. I was doing mundane work for an organization, in hopes of having a higher position next year. I mailed letters, ran errands, got food, took notes, and smiled. I smiled a lot. Why? To get these people to like me. To force them to fall in love with me. All for the hopes of getting accepted by this organization and feel like I belong there.

Shit.

“It is NOT like pledging.”

“Whatever you say,” Jackie smirked.

We said our goodbyes and I walked out, looked at the sky and prayed it wouldn’t start raining. In my rush to complete the task given to me by the editor-in-chief I forgot my jacket. But I went on.

Those magazines weren’t going to deliver themselves.

The Pity Party was over, but Vanity couldn’t take a hint.

Jealously had left long ago, declaring he had something more important to do. Bitterness had scoffed at this, turned to poor Self-Conscious Sally and whispered, “He always says that.” Sally only blushed, too afraid that whatever she said would be wrong.

The Pity Party was over, but Vanity couldn’t take a hint.

Melting Milton, who at a snap of his fingers could slip into puddle form, had gotten tired of everyone and liquified and evaporated the moment the dip was gone. The Coward had hung out by the punch, watching Self-Respect and Dignity grinding on the dance floor. They had come to the party already intoxicated, and at the embarrassment of everyone drunkenly danced, ate, and left. Soon after The Coward found himself gravitating towards the door as well, and shook his head as he passed through its wooden frame.

The Pity Party was over - for a few hours now - and Vanity still couldn’t take a hint. As I picked up streamers and kicked deflated balloons I watched her. She stood staring at herself in the large gold framed mirror hung near the kitchen door. She pouted and batted her eyes. Earlier she had been mingling; this meant fishing for compliments and throwing herself at anyone who glanced her way. After realizing this was futile, she had placed herself in front of the mirror and hadn’t moved since.

She is pretty, I thought, as I began turning off lights, watching her pouting lips quiver, her big eyes watering, staring, unmoving.

I shut off the last light in the room and made my way up the stairs. Vanity watched her pupils swell, but still she didn’t look away.

In bed I reflected on the party and sighed, glad it was over and done with. I thought of her, still probably staring; her big gleaming eyes unblinking. How horrible it must be to be Vanity, I thought as I my eyelids finally fell. To be so pretty  - but so meaningless. I wouldn’t wish in on my worst enemy.

There were many, many things that disturbed me about a Huffington Post article by Katy Hall called, “Christian Groups Take Issue With Anti-Bullying Laws.”

That’s right. Even the Anti-Bullying laws are being bullied.

The Christian groups point of view: Anti-Bullying laws are pushing a pro-homosexual agenda. By stating that no one should be bullied because of their sexual orientation, they are implying that lifestyle should to be accepted. Children shouldn’t be told by their schools which “family values” should be accepted. The family should be what teaches kids what should be accepted.

Ok, that’s all nice and good. I can be open minded enough to understand that some people stubbornly don’t approve of homosexuals, and it’s going to be a long road to convince some of these people that they’re wasting their energy hating. Everyone has the right to teach their kids to be intolerant homosexual haters if they so choose. Sure. Whatever.

But let’s imagine this scenario:

In my family it is not okay to be Christian. I’m Jewish, and those people completely took my religion, added a new book, and took off and ran with this guy named Jesus. I am taught that if I interact with these people I should tell them of their wrong ways, snub them, or exclude them.

So what do I do? I see a kid wearing a cross necklace, shove him into a locker and give him a wedgie. I do this every time I see him until every time he sees me he shrinks back in fear. Classical conditioning at it’s best. I do this until finally he works up the nerve to tell a teacher, who tells the principle.

“So,” the principle says, “It appears that there has been a complaint filed against you. Poor little Howard Daily says you’ve been pushing him into his locker every day and using unwanted upward force on his undergarments. Wanna explain yourself?”

“Well,” I say, very calmly, “You see, Howard is a Christian. And it’s a family value of mine that Christians suck. Everything they stand for is awful. I sincerely believe this, and since it is a sincerely held belief, taught by my family, it is my constitutional right to be able to express these beliefs. I find my morning locker shove is the best way to accomplish this.” 

The principle shrugs.

“Well that clears up that issue. Let me get you a late pass for your next class.”

Yeah, that would go over well.

No matter how much you hate or were taught to hate a certain type of person, that does not give you the right to pester, verbally abuse, physically abuse, or wedgie that person.

In fact, we have a word for that. It’s called a hate crime.

If we can start bullying based on “expressing family values” then we better be careful. If there are families that teach that homosexuality is a sin, then you can bet there are also families who teach that blacks are inferior, that Jews are stingy, and that all Muslims are terrorists. A school isn’t supposed to “play parent.” But a school is an institution that has the right—and  the duty—to teach tolerance, compassion, and basic human decency.

In my family I was taught intolerance in unacceptable. So if these groups who are lobbying to take the words “gay” and “lesbian” out of our anti-bullying laws are successful, they better watch out.  If you bully someone I love based on their sexual orientation, I will surely take the right to express my family values and punch you in the face.