Dear Blair Witch,

I'm not a confrontational guy. My close friends (and not-as-close friends) already know this about me, because it's pretty obvious. I'd much rather take someone out to buy some coffee than punch him in the face because he spilled my coffee. I suppose you could call me a pacifist, but that would not be entirely correct because I personally think any man willing to simply stand there and take a punch to the jaw is indeed quite manly, but also moron. A little self-defense I think is fine now and again.
But... what do you do if it's a woman, and you're a guy (kinda like I am)?
One would most likely say "EQUALITY OF THE SEXES" right before running off to go punch his girlfriend in the face or going to make a sandwich for her boyfriend, but as much as I think women should be given the same rights as men, I do not think a woman is something to be...punched. Or slapped. Or kicked. Or noogied.
Well, maybe noogied.
But let me get to my point before you are brought to tears from sheer boredom: in my Creative Writing class, there is a girl. This girl has a name, but because I feel it would be rude talking about a girl behind her back and using her real name (that and I don't know the PROPER way to spell it) I call her the Blair Witch. Get it? Because her name is Blair. Like from the Blair Witch Project. And 'cause she's a witch.
AND 'CAUSE I HATED THAT MOVIE.
Moving on.
This is a female that came to my school and joined the Creative Writing class the same day I did. Now, at first, I had no problem with her. "Aha, a fellow pupil to my new class of all writings creative!" I said to myself. "I cannot wait to become acquainted with this charming, intellectual being!"
What a blissfully ignorant fool I was, then.
My first sign that she was perhaps NOT the intellectual I thought her to be was that the moment the bell rang to signify the class being over, her first words were (if you have any small children, autistics or other impressionable beings in the room, you may want to avert their eyes for this next bit) "I'MA GO SMOKE THAT WEEEED."
Now, I won't lie: that annoyed me a great deal. I've always found it annoying when people are almost patriotic about their mental addiction to a drug that temporarily makes you act like your cerebral cortex (I would recommend Google) has been replaced with cotton and Jack Black's DNA.
But whatever, I thought to myself, everyone has their own hobbies, and they have their reasons for being so obnoxiously enthusiastic about them. Then I smacked myself for actually considering accepting human beings for their flaws.
It wasn't until later that I realized how very capable the Blair Witch was of getting under your skin cells.
I like to think myself a funny guy (I like to think myself a lot of things) so I get out as many punchlines during one class period as I can. I enjoy them, and so does the majority of the others in the room.
Except the Blair Witch.
One day, after making a joke about toilets that I found quite humorous, this delightful, young bundle of peaches and cream shouts "OH MY GOD, SHUT UP. YOU ARE SO CHILDISH" loud enough for all of Alaska to hear her. Being the gentleman I am, I say nothing to her. Instead I turn to my friend and begin to talk about her behind her back.
AT WHICH POINT
she declares: "IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM YOU CAN SAY IT TO MY FACE."
Why yes, I would love to do so, but you see, your maturity intimidates my childish little heart so very much, I don't think I could take it. I think I'd much rather go stock up on LSD and dye every bit of fabric in my closet black so I can be a charming, MATURE individual much like yourself.
Anywho, right after this 2-minute confrontation takes place (it lasted a half-hour if you want to include the time she spent whispering under her breath that I am a vagina and a-whole-nother plethora of interesting parts of the female anatomy I knew nothing of) she continues her conversation with her friends about her last acid trip.
The Blair Witch is what's known to most people nowadays as a "drama queen", and to others as "a drama mama"; being born and raised in the hood, I much prefer the latter. She is the kind of female who enjoys getting others riled up for the sake of being loud and pointing out how very mighty she is compared to us squishy mortals. She's the kind of female who, when being argued with, shouts the word "WHY?!" at you over and over again while you are simply trying to inform her that she is an obnoxious, little, stuck up, spunk-flavored, narcissistic indie-fag.
This is Alabama, and listening to "WHY?!WHY?!WHY?!" in the Alabamian form is basically "WHAH?!WHAH?!WHAH?!" If the fire alarm were to go off while she was doing that I would not be able to tell the two sounds apart.
It is people like the Blair Witch that make me think: perhaps the whole 2012 thing is not such a terrible concept? I'm most certainly not going to hit her, because I refuse to let my principles be obliterated simply because of a little girl. So maybe she needs a good 'ole meteor to the face. Or a nuclear missile up the nostril.
Or a zombie apocalypse. 'Cause, well, let's be honest: that'd be pretty freakin' sweet.

Howdy, Stranger

Now, I like to think myself an outgoing guy. Sure, whenever I'm the new kid I tend to sit away from everyone else and try to not talk or breathe too loudly, but when I'm thrust into a situation that requires social activity, I've got no problem giving it a shot and trying to make friends.
That is, in real-life social situations.
The phenomenon known as "Facebook" is an excellent way to "socialize" with friends and blablabla. Sadly, it is also a fantastic way for complete strangers to try and become your friend. I've gotten many friend requests from people I have literally never seen in my life. I even once got a friend request from some guy in Idaho. Idaho. You know how far away that is from where I live? It's very far away.
Not too long ago (I'm 99% sure it was yesterday, but I thought this morning was Friday, so I can never really be too sure) a female I have never before met in my life sent me a friend request. After going to her page and seeing that my girlfriend is one of her mutual friends, I begin to question my loyal, obedient woman (I'm really hoping she doesn't read my blog) about the stranger. She informs me that this female is the girlfriend of her ex-boyfriend.
WHOA.
Just...
WHOA.
Change the CHANNEL for I am in a SOAP OPERA. Any second now my long-lost, evil twin brother named Eidde is gonna run in and scoop up my girl in his arms.
I decided in a bout of endangered self-confidence that I would have to politely decline the young lady's offer. "Ha!" I said to myself. "That should be the last of her." Being the pushover I am who has already accepted quite I few people I may have met once, this was a victory to my eyes.
Naturally, being the failure at existence that I am, my victory was short-lived. Not too much longer later, there was a comment on Carly's (that is to say, my girlfriend's) wall, something along the lines of: "Oh,what's the matter, afraid I'll steal him away from you, too? -WINK FACE- "
All thought-processing temporarily ceased except for an electrical signal for the utterance of two words:
"Oh. Snap."
I would have warned Carly to delete it and forget the whole mess before things get out of hand, but alas, the battle had already begun. Now, I'm not sure how many of you have seen two females arguing over a wall on Facebook before, but I assure you, it is not a sight you'd want to put on your bucket list.
Being the brave fool I was, I made an attempt to dive into the fray. No sooner had I posted "Your dress makes you look fat" than I realized something: all of this could have been avoided if I had simply added the woman. Or maybe I could have just made that one of the many requests that I just never click "accept" OR "ignore" and leave it there for all time, dealing with that little rash of a friend request icon at the top right of my homepage.
I think the best way to solve any future problems would be this: don't add strangers. If you have talked to this person once in real life, maybe at lunch or a social event, and took an interest in them, fair enough.
If you are browsing your friend's statuses and see someone interesting on their page, DO NOT add them. If you see a picture of a stranger and think "Hey,they look like an interesting person",DO NOT add them.
In fact, we should all stop adding friends completely. Maybe we should stop using Facebook altogether. We should all get out of our houses and go meet up with people and ride our bikes or go to the park. We should all just stop using these potentially-dangerous social websites that we use to speak to people we don't know and try to socialize with people in real life and-
BAHAHAHAHA I kill myself.

Smells Like Blog

I don't really know how or where to start, here, seeing as I've never had a blog to call my own. This is a strange, new experience for me, and to be completely honest I'm not even sure where this sudden urge to create one came from. I've been toying with the idea for a few days, and I suppose I just now decided to act upon it.

Every blog (every blog worth reading, anyway) needs an overall theme or point to it, whether it be to record events that occur in your personal life or to share your poetry or story-writing with whoever wants to read it. My blog will be the former; that is, I'll be using it to chronicle my personal life. I don't intend to just make this an angsty online journal where I can talk about how miserable being a teenager is and how oppressive society is towards me. I intend to make this an angsty online journal where I can talk about how miserable being a teenager is and how oppressive society is towards me while working towards my greatest goal in life: to become famous.

Fame is one of those things that no "ordinary" human being is capable of and is impossible, like winning the lottery or being the popular kid at school, which I have always thought of as absolute nonsense. Honestly, how do people think Brad Pitt became a famous movie star? Did the doctors etch a little label onto his butt when he was born saying "SPECIAL"? Lemme tell you a little something about Brad Pitt that you can Google for yourself if you don't believe me: one of his first ever jobs was dancing in a chicken suit. Tom Cruise? He didn't even want to be an actor; he wanted to be a priest.

My point is that you're only ordinary if you choose to remain ordinary, which I simply refuse to do. Call me crazy, call me stupid (I've been called both), but I assure you that I'm not gonna let myself be "an average guy". Now that I've explained my intentions in an unnecessarily long introduction, I should move on to the boring part where I give you information about myself that you really don't care about.

I am an actor whose name is Edwin Huertas Jr, but people generally call me Eddie. I have an extremely Hispanic-sounding name, but I'm only half Puerto-Rican, my other half being Belgian (when people ask what I am I tell them I'm "Belgiarican"). I live in an invisible, poop-flavored city known as Florence Alabama with dad(whom I will refer to as Dad) and Michelle (my stepmom), as well as my two brothers (Corey and Felix) and my two dogs (Rocky and Duchess III).

As for what I plan on doing with my life...well, that's actually something I can't really give a straight answer on. Ever since I was a wee lad that loved nothing more than the breeze between his legs as he ran through his house stark naked, I've wanted to do something that would leave people in awe of my creativity and success. I've wanted to be an entertainer all my life. At one point, I wished to be a writer, and at another a comedian. Right now, I am (as I've already said) and actor trying to get somewhere in a place where it's more about luck and favoritism than actual skill. But I digress...

Throughout my life, passions have come and gone, but there's always been two things about my future that I've always been certain of, and that I know I'm meant to do.

One: I want to entertain for a living.

Two: I am going to be famous.