Snowballin'

Nothin’ but a cup of re-heated hot chocolate in my stomach; it would be coffee, but I had to finish the hot chocolate from before. I didn’t make until about seven in the morning and it was too hot to drink so I ended up falling asleep for two and a half hours. I woke up, oddly rejuvenated, but I know I’m going to crash later, and I’m going to crash hard.




I have a head ache, and as much as I try not to think about it; it still pounds at my temples. I don’t want to take any Advil; I don’t want to take anymore drugs. I have a feeling I’m going to be put on Antibiotics again, and as I think about this, I can’t help wishing I could cut my face off.



Why so serious?



As I run my fingers; the nails bitten down the point where it hurts to touch; the pads run over a small amount of brisling hairs. They were growing back with vengeance after being plucked. There are some on my neck too, but you can’t notice them because they’re so few and far between. I’m glad for that, but I still wish they weren’t there.



I remember when I first noticed the hair on my chiny-chin-chin, or rather when my father bluntly pointed it out to me at the kitchen table. It was in grade eleven and I had just started shaving my arm hair because a boy at school called me hairy.



Well, in exact words he said; “you would be pretty, if you weren’t so hairy”



Nice right?



So now I make it a point to shave nearly everywhere on my body... and by that I mean thing but my hair and eye brows. I don’t want to go all Brittany Spears on people. The extract places to shave equal longer showers, longer showers equals an unhappy house hold, an up happy house hold equals me getting teased, me getting tease causes me to drink whenever I’m out of the house (which only adds up to about three times a month), and those bits of drinking (because my family never drinks) leads me to be called an alcoholic when I’m clearly NOT. See how that snowballs?



All because of one (or two) little comments.

Popping the Blogging Cherry.

Blogging; I can’t really tell why I’m doing this, it always sacred the shit out of me before. I’m worried that somehow, someone I know will find out it’s me, and use the random shit I write down as a way to fuck me up in the future.




Maybe this is why people say I’m paranoid?



Maybe why I’m doing this is just to copy a friend who I admire so much? Subconsciously, maybe I think this will make me a braver person; like her. I act brave, but I’m really not, she knows it, my other best friends know it, and I know it.



Now that I think about it, blogging is away I can trick myself into thinking I’m extroverted. I’m really not, but by writing down what I’m really thinking about and putting it on the World Wide Web; it sort of means I’m telling people how I feel. Though I’m sure no one will really read this, especially such a green post.



Now that I’m partially the way through this post, I think I’ve figured out another reason why I never blogged before; it was always-for me at least- associated with ‘emo-kids’.



Well you know what?



I do shave my legs! And if I had a little sister, I’m pretty damn sure I would steal her jeans if I would fit into them! I wear makeup on my face, and I use to have paint on my nails (actually I get paint on my nails every Tuesday... that’s when my painting class is)!



I don’t think I look like a ‘dyke’ though.



I. AM. NOT. BASHING. GAYS.



Damn, it’s seven in the morning; which would be less surprising, had I slept at all.


Well, I'm done for now; this will probably get old for me in about two weeks. Then again; who knows? Maybe having  something I can get to at almost any point in time, as long as I have my computer with me, will inspire me to write more?

Time to go play some Pokemon.

Pokemon, Pokemon, Pokemon; let's do it!

Edit: my basement KILLS cell phones, enter at your own risk! >=[