Happy Birthday.

Disclaimer: Let me start off by saying that I know before I post this that I'm going to sound whiny and ungrateful. So if you've had enough of my pity parade, feel free to skip this post. I promise to return to my usual ray of sunshine self after this last one.

I hate my birthday. I always have, and after this particularly depressing birthday, I'm making it official. Every year, I think it'll be different, that I'll have a great birthday with a super party and people will remember and get me a present, but no, it's always disappointing.

My birthday has always been awful. No one ever remembers. Even my parents forget the actual day sometimes (September 7th? No, Mom, the 6th.) My sister always got a card in the mail from random relatives. Always close to her birthday, always with money in it. I got a card 6 months later, absolutely empty except for the signatures. I know my family meant nothing by it, but as a kid, that's depressing.

My friends not remembering was worse. I thought it was because my birthday was so close to the beginning of school that my friends never remembered, but then in high school, my birthday was between Justin's and Aaron's and people always remembered theirs but never mine. So I figured I should start remembering theirs and making a big deal of it. Reciprocation, right? Be a great friend who made cupcakes and picked the perfect present to get some recognition on my birthday (I know, that's not how it should work, but I was 14 and more self-centered than now, if you can believe that.) So I would ask what kind of cupcakes they wanted and bake them and get up early the next morning to frost them and bring them into the band hall and have the cupcakes disappear and people rave about how good they were. But when my birthday rolled around, nothing.

So for the past 5 years, I've made my own birthday cupcakes. I always got weird stares and I'm sure people talked about me, but if I wasn't excited to turn one year older, who would be?

But this birthday has officially done me in. I turned 20 on Monday, my boyfriend broke up with me the week before, and now nobody was going to celebrate with me. Cassandra was supposed to take me shopping, but the night before, she told me to sleep in so she could go play tennis with some boy. I don't sleep in. I'm awake by 8 AM everyday and if I make myself sleep, I sleep all day. So on my birthday, I cried for 4 hours until she came back and finally took me to the mall. Then she and Hanna started dragging. When I asked what was wrong, she said, "I'm tired." No shit. Maybe because you got up early to blow me off on my birthday.

I was upset most of the day because I get Facebook updates sent to my phone. Every couple of minutes, my text message alert goes off, and it'd be some random person saying 'Happy Birthday!' on my wall. Towards the end of the day Lexie asked if I was having a good birthday. I said no because Anthony never wished me a happy birthday, not even on my Facebook wall, which is the most passive aggressive way to do it, and we're supposed to be friends or some bullshit like that. Even his mom and sister wished me a happy birthday. I'm pretty sure Lexie texted him because then he texted me and said he had a card for me and to tell him when I got home so he could bring it over. So he brought me this Mickey Mouse card and that was it. It's like the proverbial nail in the coffin for me.

See, for Anthony's birthday, even though it's like 5 months from now, I bought him the Beats by Dr. Dre headphones that he's wanted for forever. And before anyone makes any comments about the price, we would have been celebrating our 1 year anniversary in addition to his 21st birthday, and we would have been good friends for 3 years. Plus, I had a surplus of money because it turns out I paid for the first 2 months rent instead of the first and last's months so I had like $800, and I don't mind spending money on my friends. Ironically, a week after I bought them, he broke up with me, but I figured I'd give them to him anyway since we're supposed to be friends or some bullshit. But then he brought me a card. Just a card on my shitty birthday. Just a card that he probably didn't even buy until after Lexie told him I was pissed off that he was ignoring my birthday. I honestly would rather that he didn't wish me happy birthday at all.

So at this point, I don't want to talk to him. I don't care if we get back together or not. I don't want to be his friend. I'm not crying over him anymore, and I'm returning those stupid headphones and buying myself something shiny since I'm the only person on planet Earth who cares that I was born.

Except I didn't even have cake this year.

On a more positive note, I have a job interview today. Wish me luck!

Also, thank you for reading this far. Don't leave any comments about me being a selfish bitch though, I can't take it right now.

Fine

This whole break up crap just reminds me of a line from a Katy Perry song. It's called "Thinking of You," and Katy sings, "You said move on, where do I go?"

Depressing.

It's even more depressing since Katy's hot and totally got someone else while I'm just alone. Bitch.

I'm fine most of the time in the most literal sense of the word I have ever expressed. I'm not happy or sad or upset or angry or anything until someone asks or I'm left alone without anything to do (hence this post. I'm not fine right now.) My feelings about Anthony are pretty fluid right now too. I alternate between desperately wanting him back, being fine because I want him to be happy and I'd do anything to make that happen, and taking his "you deserve better" racket as a personal challenge. I just don't know right now.

As far as where I'm going though, I do have a plan. I hate that I became one of those girls who's only about her significant other so fixing that is first on my to do list. I'm in weaving and screenprinting this semester and I already had to spend a Saturday finishing up projects. I'm joining Fibers Club and Roots and Shoots and rushing a fraternity. I'm still applying for the Girl Scouts job, I'm attending a new church, and I want to find a yoga or dance class. It's all about distractions right now. Besides, Cosmo says guys like girls with different interests.

So wish me luck because 90% of the time I just want to lay in bed and stop feeling things, and that is no way to live life.

Can't Fight Fate

Lame, I know. But I cried yesterday, and I have resolved to stop crying.

Sidenote: I made my facebook status say as much about crying, and everyone I know told me to cry. Am I the only one in the world who thinks crying is pointless? It's not like crying will bring him back and I don't feel better after crying, I feel like crying more. Plus, my nose runs and it's gross.

At any rate, don't cry for me, Argentina. I'm not the pretty princess type to sit on her laurels and wait for the prince to come save her. I am a pull yourself up by your bootstraps type (because apparently, I'm also 70 years old.) I'll get through it.

Like my mom says, "Life moves on." (Which is really annoying while you're crying, but not so bad a couple hours later.)

Update!

I'd like to pretend that my lack of posting has to do with the fact that I moved, but that's only part of it. Really it's because I can't think of anything to post about. I've moved in, I love my apartment, I get to hang out with Anthony again, and my parents are gone, so everything's pretty sweet. I guess there are some little things I could discuss...

1. I went to a part-time job fair on campus because I need a job. I swear everyone has a job but me. The job that I super duper want is being a Girl Scout troop leader of sorts. I love Girl Scouts. I was one for 13 years, and even though I never earned my Gold Award, I still like cookies.
2. My car's broken. Again. I really need that thing to run, partially because the job I want requires me to drive and partially because I like driving myself to the library (I like to go by myself so I don't have to wait on other people and so I can browse to my heart's content,) and the store because I also don't like shopping with other people. They always want to stick together and walk around the whole damn store in a group when it is so much faster and efficient for me to walk away, get my crap, and then find them. I am such a loner sometimes.
   
3. I only have $200 in my account, but I still need one textbook and two art kits. My parents got the check for my financial aid, but they won't just deposit it because they think I'm irresponsible with my money (which I probably am, but I need crap.) This is another reason I need a job. I hate calling my parents when I need money because then I have to explain what I need it for (um, snacks at the movies, gas, and fast food. Sometimes a dress, but mostly semi-necessary things.) I'm going to try to go to one of those money management things our school has and keep a real budget to send to them so they see that I'm not a complete money retard (I'll admit that I'm fairly impulsive when it comes to spending cash, but sometimes, I just want to buy clothes. It's not like I'm buying Prada either, I'm at Target. Sue me.)
4. I accidentally left my watercolor palette on the dashboard of my car during the move (it was a convenient place for it since my car was full and it was less likely to tip over up there,) and it warped and all my watercolors dried up. And a new palette will cost at least $20, and that doesn't even cover the cost of the paint itself.
5. I'm still not done unpacking. I need to hang up some of my wall art and I want to buy some of those magazine holders, but I'd need to buy the picture hanging strips and the magazine holders too which is more money! It even costs to get organized.
6. My senior year of high school, I refused to weigh myself for some math project, and we ended up not being able to do the project because I wouldn't, but I knew if I weighed myself I would feel bad and get anxious and obsessive because that's how I roll. Well, for some reason on Tuesday, I thought it would be a great idea to weigh myself on one of those scales in the mall while Anthony was using the restroom. I weigh 225 pounds. Then the scale gave me my lottery numbers and a fortune. Guess what my fortune was? "Exercise to be healthy." Damn scale is an asshole. Anyway, I checked my BMI with that weight, and I am obese, and I'd have to lose 65 pounds to be considered healthy (you see what I mean about obsessive?) But I lack the will power to actually do anything about it, so I just end up eating whatever and then feeling bad because I know it contributes to the 225 pounds.
   
7. Lastly, the Mean Green Fling was yesterday, which is like a big fair where they give away free crap that you don't really want, food, and the occasional T-shirt. Well, I was in line for a T-shirt, and the lady handing them out said, "This is the last large!" and held it up, and this guy walks up and takes it. He wasn't even in line, and I was obviously reaching for the shirt. Chivalry is officially dead if a guy won't even let a girl have the last free T-shirt. I ended up with an XL, I can sew it down if I need to, but I'm still mad at that jerk.
   

I like how I said that everything was okay, but then proceeded to complain about life. I guess these things don't really bother me that much. Although the money/job ones have the potential to spiral.

I suppose it's only fair to make a list of things I've loved so far:

1. Hanging out with Anthony every day. I don't mean to sound like we're one of those creepy super lovey dovey couples who can't live without each other, but I love being around him.
2. Having my own room/bathroom. I don't like to wear pants, but it was awkward to be naked in the dorms. Now I'm free!
3. I got a bicycle to ride around campus! I still need to get a parking pass, so I don't think I'll be riding until next week though.
4. My roommates and I had a steak dinner to celebrate moving in, and the roomie saying the prayer used the term "kick-ass." I laughed until I cried, and I still giggle thinking about it.
5. I'm taking screenprinting, weaving, and English this semester. I better have the highest GPA I've ever had.
6. I got a pedicure with Cassandra, Mary, and one of Mary's friends on Monday. My toes are "Aztec Orange."
7. I don't have class on Fridays! This is part of the reason I really really want a job, but if I get the Girl Scout job, I still won't have to work/go to class on Fridays.
8. I'm back at Heritage! I seriously love that church and those people to death. I am never leaving again.
9. Oh, and I have 13 followers! To loosely quote Professor Trelawney, "When 13 blog together, the first to leave is the first to die." Okay, so she was talking about dining at a table of 13, but I'd like all of you to keep following me and terror seems like a good tool for that. Obscure Harry Potter references for the win!
   

I like the word 'innocuous'

Sorry I sounded so emo the last post. I really hate feeling sorry for myself especially since I think I have so much to be happy about, but it happens, I guess.

At any rate, I realized Nicholas was right, I totally do have a hobby. So I channeled my anxiety into organizing my fabric. I went through each piece, cut a 2" by 2" square, wrote the yardage amount on the swatch in permanent marker, and clipped each piece to a book ring. Now I know exactly how much of what fabric I own. It turns out that even though I own a lot of fabric (a lot) I have less than a yard of most of them, which would be fine if I didn't like making clothes.

But a couple of weeks ago I bought this pattern so I could start making my wardrobe look more like Emma Pillsbury's (if you're not watching Glee, you should be.)



I wanted to make view C, which is the pink one in the upper left hand corner.

Em-spiration (aargh, Anthony's rubbing off on me!)

At first glance, it seems innocuous enough. Cute pink skirt, right? It has pockets and the hem is relatively straight. It maybe a little short though.

And from the back, it's still okay. My very first lapped zipper doesn't look completely horrible. I actually ironed the whole thing. But then I put it on.

Yeah, kinda short.
And note the pulling around the hips (Also, first and last time I post a full length picture of myself. I wonder if I look this disproportionate in real life?)

And that's my ass (also the first and last time I show my underwear.) It won't zip!

See, I'm a ready-to-wear size 14, which means I can walk into most department stores, pick up a 14, and just wear it as is. So I figured in pattern land, I'd just go up to a 16 since I thought it looked fitted on the model and I'd be fine. Too bad pattern land is graded differently. Always go by the finished measurements provided on the pattern envelope. According to the finished measurements, I'd actually be a size 20.

The good news is, this skirt only took up a yard of fabric, it was on sale for $2.00 a yard, and I got 2 yards, so maybe I can squeeze a bigger one out of the leftovers.

But I was still bored and restless, so instead of packing so I can move this weekend, I decided to make a present for my best friend, Bailey!

And before you ask, no, she's not 5. She's 17, and she likes dinosaurs.

I got the pattern for three dinosaurs (T-Rex, triceratops, and stegosaurus) from a thrift store for 2 bucks.
I had both fabrics in my stash, one was leftover from some hoodie I made, and the blue actually has dinosaurs printed on it in red, green, and yellow. The ribbon was from some gift wrap.

Dino love! And this is what my hair looks like when I try to look like Thandie Newton and skip washing it for a week. But the good news is, I haven't gotten a relaxer yet! Still debating going natural; I'm definitely leaning more and more towards it every day, but I'm not sure how I feel about cutting it all off. I don't care if it's just dead protein, it's warm and mine.

At least I now feel accomplished in addition to anxious. I'm off to pack now!

Burn Baby Burn

It's times like these I wish I drank. Although, drinking to forget problems and pass the time seem like the quick road to alcholism, so I think I'm okay with not drinking.

At any rate, I'm anxious. I'm anxious a lot, actually, but usually I just get angry, rant, and feel better. But today is different because I've realized that I am officially the most pathetic person on the face of planet Earth. I'm anxious, and I realized that I can't talk to anyone about this. Or rather that the only person that I should be talking to about this doesn't want to talk to me.

But the real cherry on this pathetic sundae is the tears. I don't cry a lot, but the past three days I have hit deplorable levels of Bella Swan-esque blubbering. Seriously? I need a life. Or at the very least a time consuming hobby. Being a girl sucks. What's with this need to talk to someone?

On a lighter note, I was burning a piece of paper for an art project, and I think I have a hidden pyromaniac streak.

It's Been Another Week

Already. And there's nothing new or exciting on the home front. I'm not alone though, many of my favorite bloggers have lapsed into voids. I guess August isn't a very exciting month. But good news, there's only two more weeks until I move back to Denton!

Anyway, I decided to talk about things that are currently annoying me.

1. Victoria Justice, of Nickelodeon fame and recently dubbed the next "Teen Queen" by Perez Hilton, was on the cover of September's issue of Teen Vogue. In her interview she was quoted as saying she liked Robert Pattinson because he's "understated hot."

Vicky, I can call you Vicky, right? Right, if every teenage girl and her mom (literally) thinks that some guy who plays a vampire is hot, then it's not understated. In fact, it's the exact opposite. I think your TV show is calling you away from a much needed English class. At the very least, please buy a dictionary. Personally, every time I see R. Patz I want to schedule an appointment with a barber for him so he can get a good shave and a haircut, but whatever floats your boat.
The thing is, I kinda liked her before I read the interview. Now not so much. I don't really think she's stupid, but the interview made her seem vapid and not that bright. Maybe it was just that interview though?

2. Emma Roberts. I'm annoyed by the fact that everyone was all, "Oh, she's Julia Roberts' niece!" like that somehow made her pretty and a great actress. First of all, that's not even her mom. Julia Roberts has actual children that probably look a lot more like her, but we wouldn't know since she moved to the country someplace and Emma's all up in our faces. I don't think Emma looks anything like Julia Roberts, and she definitely did not get her acting chops. I've been annoyed by Emma Roberts' character in every movie she's ever been in, except Blow. And she was like 5 in that movie. She just always sounds whiny and tired and she always plays some annoying teenager who sighs and shuffles around. But if you take the whiny part out, I do like the sound of her voice, it has a nice tone.

On the one hand, if people stopped comparing her to Julia so much, I wouldn't be as annoyed, but on the other, Emma probably wouldn't be as famous if people didn't push that fact. Lose - lose?

3. My mother. I know, I'm really hard-pressed to find times that she annoys me, but I'm really glad that I only have two more weeks of her fascist dictatorship.

Anyway, my best friend and soul sister, Erica, cut her hair and went natural last year. I've been debating going natural since she did it because a) I don't like spending $50 to get my hair relaxed, b) I don't really like the texture of my hair when it's relaxed (It's too straight. I know that's the point, but it's annoyingly so. I like my hair like a month afterwards, when it still looks nice when I flat iron it, but it also holds curls. I digress,) and c) I'm tired of trying to live up to European beauty standards, ie: straight hair, no hips, basically the opposite of Black. I can try as hard as I want to, as long as I want to, and I'm never going to have Jennifer Aniston's hair (unless I get a sick weave.) I especially want to go natural before I have kids (but that's not happening anywhere in the near future.) I just don't want to have a daughter and tell her to love herself the way God made her, and then blow $100 trying to make my hair be straight. It's hypocritical, and the one thing I hate more than just about everything else (I hate a lot of things,) is hypocrisy.

So I was talking to my mom about it. In retrospect, I guess I did say, "Erica said," a lot, but she overreacted in my opinion. She was just super angry, and she yelled a little, but what really gets me is that she told me "to think for myself."

What the what?

First of all, I have never been a blind follower of anything. Usually, I'm so against being with the masses that I actually hate things that are too popular (*coughcoughTwilightcoughcough*) Second of all, just because I respect someone else's opinion and happen to reiterate it to make a point, doesn't mean that I'm not thinking and forming my own opinion. Yes, I like to talk to others, but no, they aren't doing my thinking for me.

She says basically the same thing when I talk about Heritage too. She asks if I'm in a cult and tells me to read my Bible. I do read my Bible. And I've found entire chapters devoted to what's kosher and what isn't, even if it is in the Old Testament which apparently, we're not supposed to follow, just keep for history which makes no fucking sense, and I've never seen anything in the New Testament that even suggests that Jesus says we can eat pork. That is you, making up rules based on one verse that says nothing about meat, and then trying to make me do what you want.

I'm off topic again. It just really makes me mad that any time I do anything that isn't something she approves of, I'm a sheep, but it doesn't apply to the 18 years I did everything she said.

At any rate, in a perfect world, my hair would be like Thandie Newton's.

But she is half White. It's still cute though. I actually have no idea what my natural hair looks like since I get a relaxer every 4 months. Maybe it does curl.