I wake up after two hours of my mom hounding me, and it's 7:30. By 7:45, I'm literally rolling out of my bed to get ready. At 8:10, I'm finally ready to go. Too bad I've missed my bus. At about 8:18, we're in my mom's car. She driving and scolding me whilst Gorillaz blast through the speakers of her Cadillac. She's telling me how I need to be responsible for myself. I'm not listening, and it doesn't matter that I'm not; I've heard this lecture twice already this morning. I get to my high school at about 8:25 and I realize I'm not wearing my ID.
This year, I got my mom the Metallica CD she wants. She watched me buy it, so I'm gonna throw her off.
Step one: Wrap the CD the the best of your abilities.
Step two: Put cassette tapes and books in a medium sized box. Place CD on top.
Step three: Cover the objects with tissue paper. Seal the box.
Step four: Wrap the box with printer paper and duct tape.
Step five: Place the box in a bag. Seal bag and put a tag on it. You're done.
My favorite fruit.
My favorite phone.
My favorite type of wine.
Mom: You're going to help with the Christmas party at Eli's school tomorrow, so wear something conservative. Oh, and most of these kids are autistic, so please don't make it look like your eyes are bleeding like you usually do.
Mom: Kim! Are you ready?!
Me: Yeah. *walks out in ripped leggings over white leggings, mini skirt, see through shirt over white tank top, black shawl, knee high black Converse, and white and grey eyeshadow with bright red lipstick*
Me: My eyes aren't bleeding, though. :D
I'll be perfectly honest.
I hate Christmas. I know Santa isn't real, and I don't believe in God. The music sucks, and the colors remind me of bloody diarrhea. What more is there to celebrate?
Oh YEAH- free gifts. The only reason I actually go along with the charade of the holiday is so I can get new stuff, and I couldn't give a fuck about how spoiled that makes me sound. Anyway, I composed a list of songs that don't give me a rash:
-Merry Xmas (The War Is Over)
-Every Snowflake's Different
-All I Want For Christmas (The version from Love, Actually)
-Little Saint Nick
What about Mikey? What about Toro?
I mean, Frank gets Halloween- that part's understood, but why does Gee automatically get Christmas?
It's just not right.
In my world, Ray is the shepherd, Mikey is Mary, Frank is Joesph, and Gerard is Geesus. The wise men can go fuck themselves. They showed up two years late.
 I have dyed my hair since early childhood.
 I dye my hair funny colors just because Gerard Way dyes his hair funny colors.
 I have never dyed my hair.
[x] I cut my hair a lot.
 I don't like to cut my hair.
 My nails are always painted black.
 I paint my nails despite what people say.
[x] I barely paint my nails.
[x] When I paint my nails, the color bears meaning to me.
 I don't like to paint my nails, it's too girly.
 I have piercings on my face.
[x] I want piercings on my face.
[x] I wear eyeliner.
 I'm not allowed to wear eyeliner.
 I get made fun of
The Three Little Pigs is about rape.
-"I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in."
-Pigs could easily be interpreted as sows, also used as a derogatory term for women.
-And finally, think of the storyline for the tale. The first one wasn't aware of what could happen, so he didn't protect himself and built an unstable shelter. The second one was clever, but still rather unaware and made a shelter that could potentially work out, but lacked major supports. The third pig was the smartest and built a fortress of wit around himself, and he was protected.
Not only did this lady take up half of my seat at the meeting, but she stood up as the two other female shavees and I walked to our seats together and told them, not me, how beautiful they were bald. And then, as if to add insult to injury, she was blocking my seat as she did so. Am I invisible? Am I ugly? Do I have to flail my arms for somebody to notice me? Do I look like a guy, even though I clearly have a feminine build? I don't know. But whatever reason it is that she decided to not say that to me, it made me feel like shit.
I won't be able to blog or do anything fun for the next four hours. I have to go to a stupid banquet, in my honor, at the school board's office building. I was perfectly fine with shaving my head and letting it go unnoticed. But no. Not only do I have to get dressed up to stand on a stage, in front of the entire district's staff, but I have to be awarded for cutting off my hair. WHAT THE FUCK, DUDE?!