Sans Les Cheveux

I decided that it was time for change once again. This Sunday I decided to have my hair cut (1).

This haircut is one that I've wanted for a very long time. I never really expressed it to anyone since most people would have tried to convince me against it. I'm tired of reaching out to people and getting negativity. Although I am one of the most pessimistic people that I know, I do not immediately give negative feedback. I know that I don't know best. I know that I know what I like.

I've never had my hair this short, and I can't even being to explain how liberated I feel.

Although it doesn't have the effortless look that I wanted it sure is effortless.

Some of the opinions expressed by others included, "What did you do? You had such beautiful hair!" Hair grows back so I don't get why people are getting all bent out of shape? I mean it's not like they just shaved their head in the middle of January. "Aren't you cold?", has also been a popular response. No shit I'm fucking cold. -__-

Other people have said things like, "YOU'RE A GOD", "You're so sexy", "You are so fierce, I can't even handle it." It's amazing how people can change for a good opinion of me to a great opinion. I know that I look more attractive. This haircut opens up my face making how I perfect I am inherently obvious. Makeup further enhances this (I know I didn't think I could improve on perfection either).

But wait! A third party exists believe it or not. That would consist of those who have made no positive or negative comments, even no comments at all. At work, some people said, "You look so much older", "You look so masculine", and "You have amazing bone structure." At school I even got, "You look more like a girl now." That was a little funny since I don't think I look like Shuga. To address those who haven't said anything, thank you. Assholes.

Even though it has only been 4 days, it will continue to feel like the first day for a week or so, I'm sure.

I may have done a lot of things to please myself, but I have altered those things time to time due to unimportant opinions. It feels great to finally realize that I don't need to listen to the negative criticism of my 'friends.

Everyone's a critic.

Myself included.

Bipolar?

This week as been quite the week, and with how fast paced it has felt this should come as no surprise. But there are two more days left to this week and today has been the most eventful by far.

Around 12:00am I had an episode.

Around 12:45am an old, almost boyfriend wanted me to have phone sex with him. Um, no.

Around 7:50am I downed a cup of coffee and headed to school and actually arrived on time.

Around 1:00pm I starved myself because I had work to do, that wasn't collected.

Around 4:00pm I started to drive to work, I drove 40mph the whole way there.

Around 4:30pm someone wouldn't sell me cigarettes because they thought my ID was fake. I fucken took my business elsewhere. Fuck that shit.

At 5:15 I finally went to work. Now this is where the stories start.

As I came into work, I counted down a drawer, since I was going to become main ringer. I've become closer with Stacy recently. This is due to the fact that Bovan now works at WAL-MART and that I'm one of the few members of the night crew who has been working there for more than 3 days.

The night was slow therefore Stacy and I spent most of our time mildly gossiping about customer experiences, and funny family stories while we folded. She had informed me that she had a very important story that she couldn't believe that she had forgotten to tell me. I immediately thought it was just an extra saucy story about one of our regulars--I was right in part.

Stay started to tell a story with the regular customer coming up to 2 newer associates and claiming, "I need a new outfit for court that doesn't make me look like such a fucking slut, like I normally do." The associates informed Stacy that they were uncomfortable. She was the perfect customer to create a bond with but whatever.

Stacy then took it upon herself to assist the customer. She knew her superior customer experience would aid her in not feeling like a pansy uncomfortable idiot. The customer had revealed to her that she had to go to court for domestic abuse, and that she may have her children taken away.

This only made Stacy feel worse because the woman showed her a GIANT tattoo (a tribute to her children) that she had gotten earlier in the week that was causing her physical pain on top of her emotional pain. Stacy did help her find a nice pair of khaki pants, and a black camisole to go with the denim jacket she had wanted. She looked plain jane, just how her lawyer had asked of her.

At the end of the story, Stacy informed me that she had forgotten one crucial part. The customer had said to Stacy and one girl who isn't new, Mae Ling, "Where's the cute little gay boy who always helps me?" Unfortunately, they had to inform her that there were not any males on staff until 5:15pm. When Stacy had to inform her, she told me it was when she really noticed that the poor customer had officially hit rock bottom

The worst part of it all is that it was one of MY regulars. I feel terrible that I couldn't have been there when all she wanted was assistance from the person who always aids her. I could have been her crutch. In her hard time she needed a familiar face who never judged her. I had her on my mind all through the rest of the night.

Around 8:15 I went on my cigarette break. I had that customer on my mind. While sitting outside, and old man was walking into the mall. He said to me, "Those cigarettes are that good to make you sit out in the freezing cold?"

I was in no mood, and couldn't believe the audacity of this old piece of shit and replied with, "You don't know what you're missing."

Expecting a chuckle from the bitter old fuck, he sassily replied, "It's a nasty habit."

As he reached for the door, I said in a firm, irritated, yet informative voice, "Fuck off." The old bastard shook his head as he walked into the mall. Go ahead and walk into that mall. Do you know how many worse things happen everyday than a teenager smoking a cigarette outside of the mall?

It killed me that he didn't understand how I felt. My emotions have been across the board all week, not to mention today. I felt frustrated, depressed, sad, ugly, beautiful, sassy, angry, hurt, excited, jealous, even happy.

Call me Sybil, but I'd much rather be called Caesar.

Family

For the past few months, I have grown to realize that I really am the only family that I have.

I've never really had a normal life as far as my family is concerned. When I was around 4, I remember my dad kicking my mom out of the house. I remember sitting at the top of the stairs as my dad yelled at my mother, and she left for good. As the door shut, I ran to the porch, just to get one last look. I felt like my life had ended.

My parents had broken up since my dad had put the pieces of the puzzle together, and realized that my sister, wasn't my sister at all. My mother was notorious for meeting strangers, and handing out her phone number. Afterwards, when someone would call, she would claim that she didn't remember giving them the number. This should come to no surprise, since she had a brain aneurysm at 18, and was left with severe short-term memory loss.

My dad knew that my mother was seeing another man, or at least he had a hunch. And after they had their third child he had gotten verification. As my sister got older, my dad realized that she was quite tall, and she had blond hair. My dad is 5'9" and my mom is 5'5". Both of them have black hair also. It didn't make sense. My dad knew who the other man was now.

My dad had had a paternity test done. He was not the father. This led to their separation. My mom left her two sons for her new man. And my dad had just raised a child for 3 years, and come to find out, it wasn't even his.

I had visited her on weekends for a long time, since my dad knew how much I loved my mom. He knew that I was her favorite, despite her leaving me. I remember she would call me all the time. And since she had such terrible memory loss, she would call me A LOT, because she would forget that we just spoke on the phone a few hours ago. Knowing that I was on her mind often, made me feel better about her not living with me.

After a while though, my mom and my sister's father, as well as my sister moved into a house after living in apartments for years. My mom's fiancée had accused me from stealing from his home when I was around 10. After that he prohibited my mother from talking to me. I never heard from her again. It wasn't for quite some time until this really began to sink in.

The next year a friend's mother had proposed that I move in with her. Now, I know that she didn't just ask me, and see if I would do it. I know my dad had asked her if she would. And the thing is that no one has ever told me that, even though I'm smart enough to figure it out.

After moving out with family friends I realized that my dad gave me up. My dad didn't care about the past 11 years. The only thing he cared about was living his life the way HE wanted. I was a great child. I can only remember a small handful of times where I really made him mad.

But my disobedient older brother was the one he decided to keep. He decided to give up the perfect child who was destined for the stars. I bet it was for one of those stupid reasons like he just wanted the best for me. Honestly, his life has been a downward spiral since I left, and it's unfortunate.

As far as I'm concerned though--I don't have a family. I just have me, myself and I. That is all I will ever need. I'm not going to allow the poor life decisions of other people define me.

If people weren't pulling me in 8 million different directions, it would be easier for me to truly convince myself that I only need myself. As for right now, I couldn't feel more alone.

I can't wait for someone to come along and remind me of what it's like to feel alive.

Teeth

It was a typical summer day. The sun was shining, and there was a slight breeze. At the time I was 8 years old.

As a child, my dad let me go anywhere, alone. I decided I was going to go the public park about 6 blocks down the road. I walked since the bike I had last summer had broken. Like any other visit to the park I immediately sat on a swing. I began to go as high as I could go, feeling the wind in my face, and listening to the sound of the swing creeking. For one reason or another after I got tired of that, I'd always find myself just sitting there on the swing, hardly swinging or not swinging at all reflecting on my thoughts.

It wasn't that I was racist or anything, but whenever I saw black people I had always stared a lot. It was strange to me, and I didn't quite grasp it. I went to a Roman-Catholic Elementary School, therefore, black people were foreign to my culture. Not only that, mentally handicapped people were obscure in my mind. I just couldn't comprehend why they couldn't act like 'normal people.'

I sat on the swing, thinking and rocking. Walking down the path, toward my location, I could see two black boys. Thet appeared to be larger, and older than me. I stared a little, and tried to act as innocent as possible, since I was kind of terrified of black people. As they got closer, I must have been laughing to myself, in between staring (which I didn't realize that I did, until now). The kid came over to me, with his friend behind him.

I began to get incredibly nervous. I was just unsure of how to act, how to portray myself. The kid piped up in a slurred, almost uneducated voice, "You making fun of my brother?" He had a serious attitude problem. I treated him with respect, since that was how I was taught to act no matter what the circumstances.

I replied with, "No, I wasn't. I don't even know your brother."

I was thinking that this all must have been a misunderstanding until he said, "My brother is mentally handicapped. It ain't right that you're makin' fun of him."

In my head I remember thinking that this kid had to be retarded. His yellowish eyes looked in two different directions. In my memory, he was slightly hunched over, and seemed to be drooling, with his mouth hung open like a barbarian. He even had an irregular breathing pattern that only seemed to be noticeable due to the peculiar weezing noise he made.

Now in fear, after taking my first good look at his brother I said, "I wasn't making fun of him. I'm sorry if you thought I was. I didn't even notice." Those were just about my exact words. Since I was genuine, but clearly appeared to be kissing ass, he wasn't happy and left with his brother.

At this time, more fear had set in and I waited a normal amount of time, and then started on my way home, where I knew I would be safe.

I was within 2 blocks of my house and had just crossed the street to the side which my house was on. I had turned with complete paranoia to find that him and his brother, were riding on bikes behind me in the street. For the next block, I told myself that they were just passing me. Before I knew it, they were completely caught up with me.

Without even thinking about it, I had opened my mouth. "My house is right up over here, so you can stop following me," I piped up. In the scariest cluster of disoriented seconds in my entire life, he had come up behind me, jumping the curb with his bike, silent.

I had frozen. He was close to me, looking me in the eyes. His eyes were similar to his brother in the fact that they were yellow. This extra dark completion only enhanced the yellow which glowed from his scleras. He said in an aggressive voice, "What did you say?"

Stammering, I attempted to mutter the words once again. I was unsuccessful. He drew his arm back, and before I knew it, he had punched me in the face. Like a sling shot, his hand drew back slow, but it retracted with multiple times the force. He had hit me on the left side of my face. He had knocked me to the ground. He quickly left on his bike.

It was my teeth more than anything else that hurt. Yes, my cheek and jaw were throbbing also. I had ran the last 20 yards or so to my house crying, and wanting to die. I thought, how could I have had allowed something like this to happen? I had a revolting taste in my mouth, and could feel bits on my tongue. In time I had realized that two of my teeth were chipped in the event. Not many can say that they know the bitter taste of bone marrow, but I can.

I have been looking forward to getting my braces off for years. I've always plotted how I could go about exposing them for the first time since I got braces. When I get them off in a few months I'll be excited but when I smile in the mirror I will still hate my smile. I don't know if I'll ever be able to overlook the chips and love my smile after my braces are removed. As far as I know, almost 5 years of braces will be worth nothing because I will still hate my smile.

No, Lady Gaga, I will not show you my teeth.

Applications

Upon filling out applications for college I thought about the varieties of applications that exist in our world. We have those that are crucial and those which may be considered unofficial.

I suppose that college applications fall under the category of those which are crucial. In college applications not only do you need to accurately and properly fill out information, but you need to effectively represent yourself and set yourself apart from the masses. I wrote my college essay while pulling an all nighter. I was on my 4th cup of coffee, and it was around 4AM. I write my best when I am under pressure and need to make a lasting impression. On Monday, I will hand in all of the necessary forms, as well as my essay to be sent to colleges. I wrote down my information confidently, and I will hand it in the same way.

Second would be the job application. When I applied to GAP Outlet, I did it as if I knew I were the best candidate. Like the college application, this falls under the category of crucial. I felt similar when I wrote up my resume. I just had to make sure that I impressed myself. Who is going to take a chance on you if you don't take a chance on yourself.

And yet another form of an application that I've had experience are those which involve the government. In order to do anything in the court system, an application must be filled out. In order to get any kind of specific reissuing of a document, you need to have the correct application. This brings me to the importance of filling out the correct application. If you need to apply for something, take your time, writing down your information may be time consuming, and needs to be taken seriously. I take these kinds of applications very seriously. Although our government may seem like a joke, when it comes to dealing with you, the citizen, they do not have any time to fool around.

And lastly, we have the only form of an unofficial application which seems to have become extinct. Years ago, before MySpace died, there was such a thing as a "Boyfriend (or Girlfriend) Application." At the time, you would post a blog, that would be visible on your profile. The title would say "Boyfriend Application," or whatever based upon your sexual orientation. This would be something that you would compose. It would be a specific variety of Yes/No questions, and short answers, based upon what you were looking for. When it came to filling out these applications, it was done with care and time.

This application was one that seemed to be a conglomerate of the other three applications. The task was to represent yourself in the best light possible. The position would be becoming this megahottie's boyfriend or girlfriend. The documentation would be the little piece on your profile that said In A Relationship, and linking the person's picture in your heroes section, and saying how much you love them.

Paper work is exactly what it sounds like: your work, on paper. It's as simple as that. It doesn't take quick wit, and beauty to make yourself known in this sector of life. All it takes is a pen and a dream.

Eighteen

As you may or may not know, my birthday was November 23rd. Snooki's birthday happens to be the same day. Miley Cyrus' happens to be the same day and year.

This year is a milestone for me. I turned 18. While there are many amazing, life-changing things (or so people say), about this age, is seems like I could care less about them. Now I can drive after 9, I've been doing that since I started driving. I can buy my own cigarettes, finally, but I've been smoking for a year. I didn't buy lottery tickets, or porn, or go to a club (Outrage doesn't count since you just need to know the right people to get in there).

On my birthday I had a field trip to go New York City, to go to art museums. It was great, I love New York City.

I looked like a tranny, but let me tell you, there wasn't a single man who didn't check me out. I was the center of attention. I was the ring-leader to the fashion circus, that is New York City.

I spent most of the day with Elizabeth and her brother, Victor. This was slightly unexpected since Marilyn was on the trip, but she had other friends on the trip, and she knows how hard I've been crushing on Victor for the past few years. Elizabeth has an appreciation for fashion like me, she wore 5" heels to New York, even though she knew we'd be doing lots of walking. I appreciate that, since I looked hot as shit.

We had a lovely time, we bonded like never before. I'm glad to see that I have someone at my own school, who has an appreciation for similar things--and lives by it. She's like the Regina George of my school. And although I may be male, I'm like the Cady Heron. The difference in this story is that we work together to be powerful, instead of feeding off of each other's power in order to get ahead.

Her brother makes me speechless. In terms of me being Cady, he is my Aaron Samuels. I obsess over every little conversation, every little notion, every little glance, every haircut. When he smiles, I melt. When he talks to me, I get tongue tied, and insult him like a 6-year-old girl. There is one small detail though. He isn't officially out. Everyone questions his sexuality, all of his friends are girls, and his best friend agrees that he flirts with me, frequently, and hard.

In all honesty, I feel like Elizabeth and him have spoken about me, and she know. He flirts the same in front of her. She lets it happen. She even seems to encourage it, when I make jokes at him about liking me, which never fails in making him red, and flustered. I had just hoped he would tell me he liked me, since it was my birthday.

I'm a sucker for that corny shit.

In the end, it was a great day, Aneta got me a brand new Timex, which is exclusively sold at J. Crew. It's valued at $150. She remembered how much I wanted it, and I haven't thought about it in ages! She did good, I couldn't have had asked for a better gift.

Although Burlesque didn't come out at midnight, it was great since I finally got my phone replaced.

My teenage years are approaching their end. Let's see what else this age has to offer. Unfortunately, I don't think it's companionship.

No Phone; No Life

Coming from your typical, media-obsessed, texting-addicted, teenager, it should come to no surprise that losing my phone has broken my life, and has made my life almost impossible to live.

I had the day off, this passed Friday. I decided I would take a trip to Amsterdam, to go see Ronnie. We had went to Outrage, and before going inside I had switched jackets. I had thought nothing of this until we had gotten inside and I realized I didn't have my phone on me. Once again, I thought nothing of if and figured it was in my car, and I carelessly left it there. Leaving Outrage, and getting in the car, we had searched like crazy, for my phone. Neither him nor I found my phone.

On a quick side note, I did not go see Ronnie, because we wanted to get back together. We hung out because we were both wicked horny, and wanted someone to grind on and make-out with. His kissing hasn't improved...

ANYWAY!

When I had gotten home, I tried to tray calm and collected about losing my phone, so Aneta and King Arthur wouldn't tease me about my reaction (although, I'm sure they're find something else to tease me about).

The next day, Charles' birthday (which he decided to get a hideous tattoo for), Charles informed me that Aneta was furious about the fact that I went to Outrage, then drove home. Um, hello?! I didn't drive until like 4 hours after. Allegedly, "it was obvious, that I wasn't able to drive." Are you kidding me really? But this pussy ass bitch didn't wanna mention it in front of Kind Arthur, so I brought it up for her.

They were both against me, and I didn't even hide that I went too Outrage. They both told me how unsafe it was, and asked me to promise to never do it again (even though I never did it in the first place).

Aneta always complains that everyone thinks she's dumb, and uninformed... but the thing is, she is. She opens her fat mouth before thinking, and just goes off of her gut, which completely lacks proof, logic, and common sense.

The past three days I have felt lost. I haven't really been sure what to do with myself, and I think I might actually study or something completely lame along those lines.

Aneta just said dinner is ready, she made one of my favorites because she knows I'm the Queen of grudges. She now knows that I'm a winner, and she knows that I can't be beat. She realized she was wrong, and since she won't admit it, it appears that she's kissing my ass after I got in trouble with her.

I'm just thankful that I lack a gut to go by.