My Little Nest

Fri. was horrid. I had to get up and go to the dentist. I hate dentists. I shall always hate dentists. To make things worse it was a new dentist and a new assistant chick. This was bad because, as some may know, I cannot do those automated chairs that go up and down while you're on them. Just...no. Leftovers from fifth grade, as my Order-girls liked to say. I may be a switch, but I'm particular, aye? Anyway, she started putting it down and I jumped a good inch or two into the air, upset her tray and said:
Me: If your going to lower the bloody contraption lower it now and then I'll lay down, but I'm not lying on that sodding torture table while you move it. Needless to say I picked up the full-on accent. Luckily she realised just how serious I was and did so. And then once you get past the moving table you get the bright shiny light.
Ehhhh....
New dentist comes in, and he has a heavy Brooklyn accent and I sound as if I just got jumped up in London. This is going to be fun, right? No.... he too insists on moving the damn chair/table and I proceed to go stiff as a bored and sit up. Then he tells me he wants me to have surgery to get the evils that are wisdom teeth out.

Me. Having surgery. On my mouth. You can imagine how thrilled I was. Especially as Da drives home, regaling me about how when he had his tooth out (he only had one) they doped him up with novocaine cut into the gum procceded to cut out part of his jaw to get the tooth and then only gave him Tylenol with coedine for the pain. Oh yes, I'm really looking forward too it now. Thank you Da.

I get home. Oh yay. The grades are up. I go check the grades, like a fool. Ah. All right. Here Da, have my knives. I don't trust me. So. I call my grandmother, cry for fifteen minutes and then wipe my eyes and get on with things. Da goes to the eye doctor, I stay at home. He gets back. He needs to go to the mall to get new lenses.
Me: We can go shopping? At the mall?
Da: Yes we can go shopping at the mall.
Me: Today?
Da: Yes. After dinner.
Me: Good.

Shopping makes me feel better when I'm depressed. ^.^ Shopping is a girl's second best friend. So, I ended up getting a new collar for all my cutesy good-girl outfits. It's powder-pink velvet and has silver square studs around it. Cute. Not to be worn except with aformentioned good girl outfits like on Sat.

So, Sat. I went to CCS's school play(s) and it was a lot of fun. Nevets, Murph-Murph, Alli, Tesia, Adam and the rest did a great job. I also found out something interesting. What do you call a group of buzzards? Not a flock or a packas I had assumed. No, you call a group of buzzards a wake. Is it any doubt why I'm morbid? Sat. was my good day.

Today I had a wicked migraine. I stayed in bed with my head covered, plotting all the various ways I could kill Da's loud, squawking bitchy bird but lacked the motivation to execute my plan. Oh well. Maybe later.

As promised, an actual update. Well, I really haven't been doing all that much--lugging shite back from college, catching up on sleep, watching DVDs amd trying to figure out what the bloody hell I'm going do with myself for a year.

Jobs are few and far between in ickle amish country town and ones I can walk too even less so. I'm trying to see what I need to do to legally be able to ride Buzz's moped around, because everyone I know realises I can't drive, but I love motorcycles. *goes off in a daydream for a moment* Yeah, anyway, that might help me with the getting places, but I do and don't want to be here all year.

I mean...I love my family, and I love being home...but d'you ever feel like your going stagnant? I don't know, maybe my mind's running away w/ possibilities. I swear I'm going through UK withdrawl...if I'm not a puddle of goo by the time Sept. rolls around I'll be shocked. There's nothing to do here. No Hoxton, No SoHo, no Chelsea. I dreamed I was at the Manor in N. Berwick the other night...*le sigh*

Finals were horrid. I don't know why everything had to crash around my ears this year. Any other year I could've had at least a 3.0, but no... the Norns have to screw with me this year. iF it wasn't people dying, it was my health going down the tubes.

Oh, and you want to hear something funny? My grandmother has decided I weigh too much, and I haven't been eating properly. Eight years of compulsive overeating and two of ED-NOS and now she takes it upon herself to notice my weight? She's been pestering me about it for three days and I'm close to losing my temper and blowing up. Not a comment when I was close to 20 stone and I started getting stretch marks. No...now when I'm going through the rest of the shite life has handed me on a silver charger right now.
And you can't point this out to her because she'll just deny that I was ever that heavy.

Ah, yes, yes I was. Trust the chick who weighed herself on average three times a day for the past twelve years. I may have had a bit of relapse during stress but it had been a lot worse. And i swear if she tells me all I have to do is eat normally one more time I'm going to scream. I can't eat normally. I've always been weird about food and she knows it.

Of course, I cannot scream at her because I'm me and I was raised to understand the lines of power in hereditary families, I was taught to recognise and honour those over me and be constantly respectful of the matriarch. I know my place. *le sigh.* This is why I'm such a bitch to other people and fight against stereotypes and roles--because I must obey them in my family and it gets absobloodylutely annoying.

I had the weirdest day today, I'm not kidding you. It went up and down and all around like the sodding energizer bunny on ecstasy. Bible class (ugh) dragged on and on and History, well we didn't discuss dogs with Napolean complexes today, which is a pity. Mr. Frog subbed for us in A.P. Bio, so we basically chatted, took pictures and discussed the upcoming banquet tommorow. I actually got my work done, unlike everyone else, though. *smirk*
As per every Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday I went across the hall after Bio to teacher assist in the 3rd grade. Today was apparently 'tropical fruit day' and I ended up sitting next to one of the ickle ones and trying everything with them. Granted, I had had mango and papaya before but plantains were a new experience. Yuck, horrid chalky aftertaste with those. While Mrs. Greenman peeled everything we discussed arious disgusting foods we had heard of or tried. Black pudding, steak and kidney pie, escargot, frog legs, you name it. This of course brought up the popular gross-out show Fear Factor. Now, I may be a bit odd, but third graders who can tell you in detail the most disgusting things such a show has ever tried? That's just plain wicked cool in my opinion.
After lunch things just crashed. I despise Con. Math. I seriously despise it. I can learn more from the Wall Street Journal about business than Ms. Peters. I don't like her at all.
English wasn't so bad, we spent most of classs outside writing letters. We've been studying letters for a few days now and the assignment was to write a letter to someone you were once really close to, but had been separated from. Everyone else did a move, etc. I wrote a letter to someone who died. It was utterly random and sappy. I swear it was horrid, really! If I ever right something that ridiculous again I'm checking myself into the funny farm, where evryone is already in agreement I belong.
Spanish was utterly boring, as usual. I wrote through most of that class, as per usual. And everyone thinks I pay attention in that class? Ha!
After class I had play practice from 3:00-5:00 and we started in with the 'revised' (read: completely butchered) version of my scene and we hadn't had so many problems since the first *week* of rehearsals! It was a bunch of 'What's that line again?' 'Where am I standing at this point?' 'When did you change my blocking?' Three weeks until performance and they pull this rot on us. If we bomb I will seriously be *brassed off!*
Okay, well I'm done ranting like a strumpet in a tantrum about *that* for now, anyway. Tommorow is the banquet and we get out at 10:55. I love that they understand us enough to know that the girls would skive off to get ready so they dismiss us after third period, but we can't wear dresses with halter closures, or anything that shows any amount of skin. Bloody hilarious, really. We also got a lecture about how we're thisclose to graduation and we'd better not ruin it by getting completely wasted at an afterpart, or if we do, don't *talk* about it. I love these Christians who run my school, they're a bunch of bloody hypocrites who preach against hypocrisy. Hilarious I tell you. I can't wait until I can get the hell out of Dodge. 10th June cannot come fast enough.