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The end of the world as we know it.
06.10.2004 | 12:38 am Okay, so despite the fact that I'm usually chipper, I'm rather pissed off and jealous right now. Boo's and hoo's, nobody cares. I do and I matter, goddamnit! I matter and I will always matter and if certain people can't see that - fuck them! I don't need them. I didn't need them before and I'm pretty damn sure I can survive without them again. Angry? Hell yes. I met the sweetest girl in the world today named Shawna (give or take a few letters). Apparently, she's a doll. She's my dad's friend's daughter and ironically enough, Mason's girlfriend. What a small world! She likes pink, froggies, and semi-decent music. She thiefed my MXPX cd, but also thiefed Michelle Branch and Nickelback. She took a few loads of clothes off my back too, and make-up. She's cool. 14, but cool. Her brother's the crazy one that thinks I'm oh, so beautiful. My aunt came and stayed until 12-ish. They left really late. They took some clothes and candy/food, but annoyed the hell out me while they were here. Miranda is not a "country girl", persay, therefore she doesn't ride/drive four-wheelers. They wanted to ride and I got stuck with taking them. Well, after many failed attempts at even turning the four-wheeled demon on, my dad told me I had to press "the secret button" or something. So, I pressed it and zoomed about 2 1/2 inches in front of a tree. Vantasia (yes, she's black) wanted to drive so I told her to just press the little thing. She almost slaughtered my cat and a nice portion of my dad's truck. I hate driving. Anything. I went through this happy-go-lucky period with Justin where everything was just fine and peachy and now I feel like strangling him all because of something Clanton said. I shouldn't get mad about it, but it kind of hurt and pissed me off, because it proves he's not only thinking of Miranda. Maybe my murderous dreams really do mean something. Something bad. I'm almost out of cigarettes and it makes me feel crappy. I hate having to get 'em from my dad, but eh, it's a living. Or dying. Whatev'. I feel like poo. My head hurts. I'm hungry, which reminds me that I'm gonna on a "only drink water" diet, because my father called me fat today. Feelings hurt, tears were shed, harsh words were said. Mother threatened to wash my mouth out with soap, as if she could, but hey, let her dream she's a disciplinary, all right? It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine. Yeah, I feel fine. |
