2002-08-30 - 9:08 p.m.
Grumpedy grumpedy grumpedy.
Incase you are wondering, this is the sound effect a grumpy Babs makes.
Luckily she is not so much grumpy currently as much as very, very, very pouty.
And even the 3rd person speak isn't enough to distance myself enough to stop pouting...darnit...
Family meetings are not ever a good as they end in tears or some kind of tantrum throwing from me. And this of course makes me feel Kelly Osbourne-esque, except that I'm pretty sure she's younger than me so that although her tantrums are a tad more spirited (she occasionally chucks in physical violence) than mine at heart they are the same, and I was definitely doing them first.
Not that I get pleasure from that.
Not much anyway.
Not that family meeting-ness was cause of the grumps, although they did aggravate some.
Got that quote on hair for magic straight perm. Was hoping for something in the low 200s zone.
The magic number? $350
Have been moping pouty-faced for past few hours, as if that's going to change anything.
Do you hear that scrimping noise in the background? That's me desperately trying to save.
Except that, I can't and it's hopeless. I could probably shop around for a cheaper price but at heart I don't want a cheaper price, I want this price because I know these people will make good of my hair.
Even though the only thing I own that is more expensive is my 'puter, and a white gold bracelet my aunt bought me.
My formal dress didn't cost that much.
My beautiful baby discman didn't cost that much.
My highschool education probably did cost more than that much ... but it was worth a lot less.
I can't really imagine spending that much on my hair, the dead cells on top of my head. But sadly I can't not either.
It's as if I'm pining for it, I'm in some kind of hair-less (but not, y'know, hairless) agony here.
I'm sitting here in the weirdest kind of ow, and I know it must look superficial and utterly stupid from whichever angle you look at it, but for me...
It's like it's this one chance to make my hair nice for a little while... and there are so so so so many flaws to this body, and if I could make just one of them evaporate temporarily I could be happy for a while.
But I can't, I don't even have that. If my body was not human but a robot of some sort it would have been thrown on the scrap heap a while back.
And I know, you're going to go, blah blah, flaws are only in your mind, blah blah... but if you saw them and weren't caring of my feelings then you'd acknowledge them as flaws and rightly so.
So it hurts, okay? it just does. So I'll scrimp and scrimp and then scrimp some more, I'll be broke for the next two months til I get it together (other expenses will always get in the way) and by the time I get there I won't be able to go through because it really is a ridiculous sum to spend on hair.
Even though I could go on about various schemes my mind devised as fast ways to money (poach wildlife [bonus: gets rid of noisy birds in my area]; get back with maths guy and take him to a casino [he is maths guy, remember? knows odds and probability and stuff scarily well]; answer some desperate male's ad in local paper, go over to his place with some mace [in case of evil] and rohypnol [to lace his drink with], then once he's out I rob him...) what I really need to be doing is...
(getting over this stupid preoccupation with your looks?)... No, I was going to say hurting quietly in a corner because there's no one out there hideous enough to understand this trauma, just a lot of beautiful people who think they're hideous but aren't really so they don't get it and think I'm stupid...
Although they were possibly thinking that already. Didn't you get the memo? It's beat up on me day. And when I do it, it's the cue to say "awww, don't say that," while when someone else does it, it's your cue to laugh and add something else.
Where was I? Right. Leaving.
"Pity Party, table for one please?"
Incase you are wondering, this is the sound effect a grumpy Babs makes.
Luckily she is not so much grumpy currently as much as very, very, very pouty.
And even the 3rd person speak isn't enough to distance myself enough to stop pouting...darnit...
Family meetings are not ever a good as they end in tears or some kind of tantrum throwing from me. And this of course makes me feel Kelly Osbourne-esque, except that I'm pretty sure she's younger than me so that although her tantrums are a tad more spirited (she occasionally chucks in physical violence) than mine at heart they are the same, and I was definitely doing them first.
Not that I get pleasure from that.
Not much anyway.
Not that family meeting-ness was cause of the grumps, although they did aggravate some.
Got that quote on hair for magic straight perm. Was hoping for something in the low 200s zone.
The magic number? $350
Have been moping pouty-faced for past few hours, as if that's going to change anything.
Do you hear that scrimping noise in the background? That's me desperately trying to save.
Except that, I can't and it's hopeless. I could probably shop around for a cheaper price but at heart I don't want a cheaper price, I want this price because I know these people will make good of my hair.
Even though the only thing I own that is more expensive is my 'puter, and a white gold bracelet my aunt bought me.
My formal dress didn't cost that much.
My beautiful baby discman didn't cost that much.
My highschool education probably did cost more than that much ... but it was worth a lot less.
I can't really imagine spending that much on my hair, the dead cells on top of my head. But sadly I can't not either.
It's as if I'm pining for it, I'm in some kind of hair-less (but not, y'know, hairless) agony here.
I'm sitting here in the weirdest kind of ow, and I know it must look superficial and utterly stupid from whichever angle you look at it, but for me...
It's like it's this one chance to make my hair nice for a little while... and there are so so so so many flaws to this body, and if I could make just one of them evaporate temporarily I could be happy for a while.
But I can't, I don't even have that. If my body was not human but a robot of some sort it would have been thrown on the scrap heap a while back.
And I know, you're going to go, blah blah, flaws are only in your mind, blah blah... but if you saw them and weren't caring of my feelings then you'd acknowledge them as flaws and rightly so.
So it hurts, okay? it just does. So I'll scrimp and scrimp and then scrimp some more, I'll be broke for the next two months til I get it together (other expenses will always get in the way) and by the time I get there I won't be able to go through because it really is a ridiculous sum to spend on hair.
Even though I could go on about various schemes my mind devised as fast ways to money (poach wildlife [bonus: gets rid of noisy birds in my area]; get back with maths guy and take him to a casino [he is maths guy, remember? knows odds and probability and stuff scarily well]; answer some desperate male's ad in local paper, go over to his place with some mace [in case of evil] and rohypnol [to lace his drink with], then once he's out I rob him...) what I really need to be doing is...
(getting over this stupid preoccupation with your looks?)... No, I was going to say hurting quietly in a corner because there's no one out there hideous enough to understand this trauma, just a lot of beautiful people who think they're hideous but aren't really so they don't get it and think I'm stupid...
Although they were possibly thinking that already. Didn't you get the memo? It's beat up on me day. And when I do it, it's the cue to say "awww, don't say that," while when someone else does it, it's your cue to laugh and add something else.
Where was I? Right. Leaving.
"Pity Party, table for one please?"
