i'm pretty sure i'm pretty crazy
i'm cutting off my hair tomorrow. twelve inches. i'm not 100% sure how i feel about it.
there's the part where i'm freakin out. like what if it looks bad? what if it doesn't grow back this long again? everybody says hair grows but it grows SLLOOOOWWWWLLLLYYYY. it took me forever [six years] to grow it out to where it is now. cause you can't just let let grow, you need to trim it every so often. so it's really a big change. the past few days i've just been studying the hairstyles of people who've come into the store and it made me a bit sad whenever somebody came in with long hair. i'm just so used to playing with it.
then there's the part that just cannot wait to get it over. i need something new. a lot of girls came in with short cute cuts and it made me excited. and i can put hair accessories in without them like getting lost in my hair. i'm kinda sick of it being this long. it's out of control.
it's definately time for a change.
like going back to school....SUNDAY. and moving into my townhouse. omg. cannot wait. my mom is driving me up a wall. i swear this did not happen last year.
the first thing is with this packing business. last year, as i aquired college things, i just put them in the guest room and then when it was time to leave for school, we just packed the guest room into the cars and left. simple. not this year. when i got home, she made me unpack. some things i did need/want to unpack. like oh...you know. clothes. cell phone charger. that sort of thing. but i had to unpack everything else too. i think the only things that weren't unpacked were like these two rubbermaid bins that she put in the basement somewhere. so i go to start packing like last week and i put the first few boxes in the guest room. when i came back from work or wherever i was, they were in my room. like blocking the doorway. so i nearly died trying to get into my room since it's so freakin dark back there. but it was late so i ignored the near-death and went to sleep and the next morning resumed my packing. the boxes were back in my room again. so i asked her about it and she's like *insert whiney high pitched neat freak mother voice* "YOU CAN'T PUT STUFF IN THE GUEST ROOM. YOU'RE MAKING THIS HOUSE SUCH A MESS. I MEAN LOOK AT YOUR ROOM. BOXES EVERYWHERE." umm. i wonder why?? so then i ask my dad where i should put my stuff. he tells me the guest room. so this nearly starts world war three. nearly. she starts screeching about something. the next time i came home, i can't park on my side of the garage. apparently that's where all the moving stuff is going. fine. whatever. but no, it gets worse. she's still ranting about my room looking "atrocious". and now she's parking her car like wherever she pleases in the garage and she keeps hitting my stuff. gbhgfjkhgkdfga. that is my frustration. divided by 130.
her newest crusade is the fact that i'm awake right now. i'm usually awake right now. i'm usually awake and chillin in the kitchen or living room. it's the only place where there's a surface for my computer to go on instead of burning my legs. but tonight for some reason she comes down and is like "OMG GET OUT OF THE LIVING ROOM ALREADY. GO TO SLEEP." [this was at eleven] "ALL THE SUDDEN YOU WANT TO STAY UP??" and then she starts ranting about turning the light off cause people can look in. [we live very far back and above the street] so i tell her to close the curtains AND SHE REFUSES TO CLOSE THEM. instead she just yells to my dad about how i'm "selfish" because i'm "suddenly" staying awake late. that was the real start of world war three. so then she goes up to her room to watch tv and go to sleep. it's like all peace and quiet for about three minutes. then her door FLIES open and she starts screeching about how i'm typing too loud. and she can't sleep with the typing. i've stayed up every other night and she never complained until now. two more nights. fdjhgkdglaf. but this is just always how she is.
i just wish i could wake up and have it be monday night. then i could just skip the hair cut drama and the rest of packing and the nightmare that packing the car will be [mom - i can't see out the back window!! dad - you don't drive the car...] and the nightmare moving in will be [mom - i don't like that table/desk/bed/lamp/window/doorframe/staircase there. me - too bad, my house].
do any other moms do this?????????????????
oh and so to go with her pyschoness about the lights being on, i'm sitting here in the dark. and i still have to move boxes out to the garage. without turning any lights on. if i don't show up at school next week, it's cause i've died in a tragic incident with cardboard boxes and stairs.
next week, i promise a much happier entry. although there probably will be more mother-drama to report from move in day.