|Entry The First
||[Aug. 4th, 2006|11:09 pm]
Should it scare me that Mom totally called the scholarship? Usually her 'predictions' get saved for when she's flouncing around be-turbaned, lighting her candles and incense and communing with whatever spirit wants to save her current caller's love life over three am cigarettes and hot toddies, in other words, about the time the infomercials start kicking in. Ah, The life and times of crazy TV physics. Wait, didn't they air that documentary when I was five? I'd be busy despairing but I have the bowling alley to resign from, and a school newspaper staff who'll kill me when this news gets out, so...not so much better really. |
What's better is the fact I'm going this alone. For once my crazy family won't be tagging along behind me, trying to...God only knows with my stepsisters, who made Oakland High a nightmare for the first two years, what with their stories of the occult meeting where they dropped me on my head,(I know it's not Eliza's FAULT but man does that make for good blackmail) or how I managed to get drunk at five and fell headfirst into the cow pie back when 'Dad'(I call him Dad at least, the real one's reading fortunes in Tibet or some mythically Eastern and suitably Exotic place he sent a postcard from five years ago, I forget exactly) was trying out the farming thing.
What is it with me and head trauma anyway? God forbid, you'd think I'd be hearing little voices of my own by now, telling me what shoes Cancer should wear, or when Gemini is going to score the love of their life. The blue and green dotted heels by the way, and Oh yes, in March with all the sparkley love of the Rainbow Spirits dancing all around you, through the glow of softly lit jasmine incense fu...
...The two days left till I fly up cannot come any faster I assure you...