Sunday, November 28, 2010


Dearest invisible readers,

I know. Stop judging me, I know I haven't posted in like two million years, but I've had a lot going on. DAMN YOU LIFE! I also know that you are currently judging me for that title. My only defense is that it is late, and in my mind, it made a lot more sense. I was picturing a race car engine or something reving up? Or maybe a cheer? Like, give me and R! Give me an A! Give me a N! Give me a T! What does that spell? RANT! YAY! But, so I don't get too off topic (and possibly scare away my non-existant readers) I should prolly start this aforementioned rant. And so, I have a few updates:

First off, pulling all-nighters (or almost all-nighters) is not as much fun as you think it is. Trust me.

Numero dos, being short is not fun.

And lastly, I got my hair cut.

I shall start from the beginning and begin from the start.

So, all nighters. THEY SUCK. Even though technically, I got 2 1/2 hours of sleep. It didn't feel like it at all. I was literally so tired that I wasn't tired. Except, when I looked at my own handwriting. Usually my handwriting is kinda loopy and awkward, but when I get tired, it starts to look like a serial killer's notes. I was sitting in class, and I looked down and I was like "CALL THE AUTHORITIES. HIDE YO KIDS. HIDE YO WIFE." Then, someone just apologized for something they did to me that day and I had no idea what they were talking about. Appartnely, I sat there with someone yelling at me and I have no memory of that occurrence. So that lead to an awkward apology. :P

So, on to my next topic in this rant. Being SHORT.

For those of you that don't know, being short sucks. Not even kidding. It's not even the being short that sucks, its the finding clothes for being short. TERRIBLE. You'd think that once in the last 20 years that someone, somewhere would say, "HEY. There is a whole demographic that don't have clothes. Maybe I should fix that." But, NO. No one has ever thought that. FOR REALS.

So, continuing .....
I have finally succeeded in finding pants for my short-ness. It only took 2342134 years, but you know, I've got to start somewhere. It's ....... OLD NAVY! I know, disbelief is setting in, but I love this store. Hmmmm, love is actually a strong term. I like how they make short-people-pants, but I hate how expensive they are. The only time I go in there is when they have a super-duper-uber-epicly-awesome sale. But, the other thing I love is their awesome clearance rack. I have seriously found the most epic stuff there for under $10. Like a super-duper jean jacket. Or a flippin awesome neon shirt. (Basically a lot of neon that normal people say "WTF. Who would wear this?" I am that person.)

But anyways .... MY HAIR.

I got it cut recently, but I don't know if I like it. To tell the truth, I don't know if my hair is happy with it, and since my hair is my hair, I need its input on the overall "I like this" effect. To start off, my hair has a huge personality. (Which is usually a nice way of saying "wow, what a bitch," I know, but trust me. It does.) When it gets angry, you know. Which is why I'm a bit afraid. Whenever I get my hair cut, it usually takes a few days for the fact to sink into my hair and for it to register it's outrage. This was especially true with my disaster-boy-femover-haircut, but I'll leave that for another time. For now, just be satisfied with the fact that somewhere, my hair is silently gathering rage.

Over and out.

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