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You Don't Know A THING About The Short End

For some reason, I'm always the first person to have to give up their room. When I was a baby, I slept in my parents room because my four older siblings needed their space- I get that. I can't remember it anyway, so it's cool. Then we my parents split and my mom took her son, other daughter, and me, I still didn't have a room for another year. I flip-flopped between the attic, with my sister, and the only other bedroom, with my brother. Then when we moved to Missouri for a year, no room. I finally had my first room when we moved back, but eventually we lost the house and I got the living room with my older sister, who just moved back from Seattle. My mom gave my brother the only actual room and took the back room. She gave TWO YOUNG GIRLS a fucking living room, and gave her twenty-two year old son a bedroom. WHAT THE FUCK. We didn't even have a door! When Amanda moved out, I got the dining room until we moved into our current house.

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...Wow.

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If You Say So, I'll Leave Home

The good old days. When we were still creepy as fuck, and Ariyah's knee wasn't broken, and my grandmother wasn't dying of cancer.
When things were simple, and I still had my black dress shirt.

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As Trapped As My Hair

I'm a very impulsive person, and like all impulsive people, I have to cope in way. Some gamble, some, drink, some do drugs, I change my appearance. Do you know, I once shaved the sides of my head, dyed my hair pink and blue, and asked my friend to poke a hole in my nose because there nothing on television that night. Eventually, it just became an obsession. Why? I was this really shy girly-girl with blonde hair and a pink wardrobe. And then in eighth grade, I changed. I wore make up and band tee's, and dyed my long, ash and honey hair. It was only the underside, but people liked me more. I was suddenly approachable and accepted among my peers. So then came black, and the raccoon eyes under my eyes. There would so much make up that just wouldn't come off my face, and all my brother's friends poked fun at me for it- they did the same thing in high school, and said it was just a phase. And it totally was. But as much as I try, I can't get rid of it.

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Fun For A Girl And A Boy

This weekend, my friends and I are taking a trip to the St Louis City Museum. I know what you're thinking- ew, right? Well, the City Museum isn't an ordinary museum; the entire building is a sculpture, open to the public. You climb, slide, crawl, explore, create. The best part is that you literally enter at your own risk. There are ball pits, rope swings, these weird straight walls that you can slide down, and there's only one actual staircase. To get to the Ferris wheel- yes, Ferris wheel, on the roof, you have to climb up inclined metal tunnels, suspended over the city, and then climb back down.

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Parents Just Don't Get Me. BUUUH

One of my cats just scratched the living Hell out of my wrist, so now I'm wearing a bandage that makes me look like Steve Carell in Little Miss Sunshine. I didn't hit the cat or anything- I understand that she's stressed by her new environment, and that she's been beaten a lot by her previous guardian.

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"I Did Three More Dahmer Comics For You, Jeanetta. Just For You."

I don't why my parents picked a rainy day to grill out, but it's happening. I would also like to point out that Spotify is glitching up and remixing my playlist, and I'm eating Pixy Stix like my step dad chain smokes..
Anyway, this is the first presidential election that I've ever had something to say about. I genuinely hope Obama wins, and it's not because of the whole PRIDE thing- I supported him before he did that, and then that blew me away. Obama is legitimately trying to fix our economy, give us health care, and fight for our rights. For the first time in a long time, other countries want to be associated with us. On top of being as decent a president as he can be, he has a family and grew up in middle class home with a single mother. He worked his ass off to get where he is today, and I admire him for that. But more importantly, he knows what it's like to be that working man, and he will stand by the middle class instead of fucking us over.
Get it, Obama!

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God Damn, Eli's Gonna Be Kick Ass.

My little brother Eli, he's six and he's already awesome. He likes Star Wars, horror movies, Batman, and video games. Seriously, this one time my older brother left Mortal Kombat on in his room, and Eli figured out how to play AND WON. He's also going to end up being the best fucking drummer in the world- two weeks ago, he started playing Finger Eleven's Paralyzer on a water bottle in the parking lot of Shop N Save, AND HE WAS SPOT ON.
NEW GOAL: Get a job and buy that kid a fucking kit.

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This Is The Only Time You Bastards Will See Me Without Make Up

DEAL WITH IT.
I'M HIDEOUS.
P.S. The band-aid on my nose is to cover the fresh piercing.

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BITCH, WE HAD THE SAME GEOGRAPHY TEACHER!

"YAY- CZECHOSLOVAKIA!"
You do know that's no longer a country, right?
"It's not? What is it now?"
Czech Republic and Slovakia, Leanna.
"Since when?"
...January 1, 1993.