Finals suck.
Ever feel the need to slam your head (Or someone else's head) against the wall? Yes? That's what I thought.
Well, I'm 17, believe it or not. At 8:38AM on Thursday, June 5, I turned the big 1-7. It's a little frightening, actually. I remember being in 2nd grade and thinking, "Oh my God, when did I get this old?" In September, I'm going to be a senior. When in the hell DID I get this old? Up until a few weeks ago, I was still convinced I was in 9th grade. Geez...
My birthday was rather nice. Nikki and Shari wrapped my locker. It looked really pretty and was a hell of a lot easier to find. I went out to dinner at Bertucci's with my parents and Pat that night. The food was good and the ice cream cake that I had to go pick up is still sitting in the freezer waiting to be eaten. Oops.
Nikki, Shari, Kate and Lauren refused to let me get away with not having a birthday party. So, Nikki invited a bunch of people over to her house for a Saturday night celebration. It turned out to be a lot of fun. Luckily Matt and Ed were able to make it, and they made the party that much better. It was nice to actually see Matt in a setting outside of FPM after one of his many performances. Aside from taking a bunch of pictures, I was flipped on and off of furniture quite a few times, thanks to Denis. It's not my fault he left his cell phone on the table and I decided to hide it in my bag. If it's out in the open, it's fair game. Kate brought cake. Cait ate cake. It was delicious. All in all, it really was a fabulous night and it was nice to be around people who know me and still like me.
The thing that meant the most to me on Saturday night was that so many people showed up. It's nice to feel loved once in a while.
School ends in 2 days. This week has felt like an eternity, and it's still not Friday yet. The weather is absolutely digusting and having to go through the hottest part of the day without air conditioning is just cruel. Last week, I was wearing my hoodie all day and shivering. This week, if anyone dares touch me in this humidity, I'm going to have to crack them in the teeth. *snarls*
Speaking of cracking people in the teeth, I've really had enough lately. I'm tired of going out of my way for people who wouldn't go out of their way for me. I'm tired of caring about people who don't give a shit about me. I'm just tired. I'm tired of being a doormat but after 17 years of bending over backwards for everyone, I don't know how to change that. There must be a sign tattooed on my forehead that says something like, "Please, shit on me. I enjoy it" because a lot of people seem to do it. Those who know me well enough know that I don't get mad very often, but if I do, God help you. You REALLY have to try to piss me off. If you get me to the point where I have no other choice but to tell you off in a not-so-nice way, you deserve every second of it. However, there are some people who have this unbelievable ability to cross me the wrong way and push all the wrong buttons. That's not necessarily a good thing. If I'm trying to protect you and keep you out of trouble, the least you can do is not give me a hard time. I don't need a plaque. I don't need a medal. A simple "Thanks" will do. But, so help me God, if you screw me over after I've done everything I can to help you, I will break your legs. By nature, I'm not mean or rude or any other adjective a particular teacher has used to describe me in the past few months. I don't have it in me to be either...but I'm aggravated because I'm really sick of having to eat shit all the time.
Now I have to go shower before going to a Joseph rehearsal. The shows are Friday, Saturday and Sunday this weekend and Friday, Saturday and Sunday next weekend. Come be Broadway critics and compare Carey's show to OLV's.
* "The only thing you'll get is this curse on your lips. I hope they taste of me forever" -- Fall Out Boy, Chicago Is So Two Years Ago
Well, I'm 17, believe it or not. At 8:38AM on Thursday, June 5, I turned the big 1-7. It's a little frightening, actually. I remember being in 2nd grade and thinking, "Oh my God, when did I get this old?" In September, I'm going to be a senior. When in the hell DID I get this old? Up until a few weeks ago, I was still convinced I was in 9th grade. Geez...
My birthday was rather nice. Nikki and Shari wrapped my locker. It looked really pretty and was a hell of a lot easier to find. I went out to dinner at Bertucci's with my parents and Pat that night. The food was good and the ice cream cake that I had to go pick up is still sitting in the freezer waiting to be eaten. Oops.
Nikki, Shari, Kate and Lauren refused to let me get away with not having a birthday party. So, Nikki invited a bunch of people over to her house for a Saturday night celebration. It turned out to be a lot of fun. Luckily Matt and Ed were able to make it, and they made the party that much better. It was nice to actually see Matt in a setting outside of FPM after one of his many performances. Aside from taking a bunch of pictures, I was flipped on and off of furniture quite a few times, thanks to Denis. It's not my fault he left his cell phone on the table and I decided to hide it in my bag. If it's out in the open, it's fair game. Kate brought cake. Cait ate cake. It was delicious. All in all, it really was a fabulous night and it was nice to be around people who know me and still like me.
The thing that meant the most to me on Saturday night was that so many people showed up. It's nice to feel loved once in a while.
School ends in 2 days. This week has felt like an eternity, and it's still not Friday yet. The weather is absolutely digusting and having to go through the hottest part of the day without air conditioning is just cruel. Last week, I was wearing my hoodie all day and shivering. This week, if anyone dares touch me in this humidity, I'm going to have to crack them in the teeth. *snarls*
Speaking of cracking people in the teeth, I've really had enough lately. I'm tired of going out of my way for people who wouldn't go out of their way for me. I'm tired of caring about people who don't give a shit about me. I'm just tired. I'm tired of being a doormat but after 17 years of bending over backwards for everyone, I don't know how to change that. There must be a sign tattooed on my forehead that says something like, "Please, shit on me. I enjoy it" because a lot of people seem to do it. Those who know me well enough know that I don't get mad very often, but if I do, God help you. You REALLY have to try to piss me off. If you get me to the point where I have no other choice but to tell you off in a not-so-nice way, you deserve every second of it. However, there are some people who have this unbelievable ability to cross me the wrong way and push all the wrong buttons. That's not necessarily a good thing. If I'm trying to protect you and keep you out of trouble, the least you can do is not give me a hard time. I don't need a plaque. I don't need a medal. A simple "Thanks" will do. But, so help me God, if you screw me over after I've done everything I can to help you, I will break your legs. By nature, I'm not mean or rude or any other adjective a particular teacher has used to describe me in the past few months. I don't have it in me to be either...but I'm aggravated because I'm really sick of having to eat shit all the time.
Now I have to go shower before going to a Joseph rehearsal. The shows are Friday, Saturday and Sunday this weekend and Friday, Saturday and Sunday next weekend. Come be Broadway critics and compare Carey's show to OLV's.
* "The only thing you'll get is this curse on your lips. I hope they taste of me forever" -- Fall Out Boy, Chicago Is So Two Years Ago