Monday, February 2, 2009
Hey. It's just that weird hermitess that stares at you. How are you?
Monday, May 12, 2008
Prologue??
In the first grade, my best friend sneezed on me. Angered by the magnitude of disrespect she had displayed towards me, I promptly ended our relationship. Since that time, karma has maintained its own special place with its teeth firmly implanted in my butt.
Now, as a seventeen year-old, I found myself wholly friendless–a state that I had been in for years. Despite my best efforts, I was unable to be anything more than that strange girl in class with the mismatched eyes and the blank stare.
To make matters worse, my lack of human contact had quite frankly resulted in habits that were unsettling, bordering on illegal. Sure, it’s all well and good when you hang around the local mall with your legal pad taking notes on its inhabitants–the skanks, the loudmouths, the “rebellious” punks, the people trying to hide fat rolls under some poor little girl’s Barbie clothes. Oh, but then when you just happen to take in an interest in that hot guy in your school with the confident swagger and decide to bring to his attention your unrelenting, undying love by unselfishly sending gift after gift and standing outside his house in silent reverence, THEN the words “complete psychopath,” “restraining order,” and “calling the cops” come in to play.
And so, the police came to my house and began sternly lecturing me on the illegality of things such as “stalking” and “harassment,” as if my harmless devotion were something twisted. Of course, my mother, being the status-obsessed, liposuctioned, faux-blonde bimbo that she is decided it necessary to protect the family’s honor (as if nouveau riches have any). After the transfer of a fairly sizeable sum of hush money to my beloved’s family, my mother then decided it would be necessary to send the source of embarrassment away to a place where it could not cause harm.