  I am ever-grateful for this site. Honestly, it is not like there are throngs of people lined up to hear my woes. It's really easy to vent to someone, or something rather, that does not yell at me when I push its "keys" too hard or too often, or does not scold me when all I can say of my day is something negative.
So thanks. Here we go again then--all of these little things that like to pile on top of my head (and scream into my ear) and finally just explode I guess. Tonight in entirely was so bad I suppose it could constitute as one of those days. The "prom dilemma" of this past weekend bothered me to no extent, but I didn't feel like complaining to anyone. Ha. Mistake. It came back to haunt me today when I watched the video my mom so painstakingly taped on Saturday and the pictures I developed. I looked so freaking horrible compared to most of the girls there, and I'm not just being critical of myself. I liked my hair, but my body is getting horrible and I really thinking that I looked like a crossdresser.
My face looks like a pug dog. Completely flat. And it is really sad that I never notice these things until they are too late. I saw the pictures and cried, and the tears just haven't stopped flowing from these eyes of mine since. Once--just once-- I would love to be able to dress up, people to actually tell me I looked pretty, and for me to feel good about myself for before and after the pictures.
Just once. Mom won't let me go out on Thursday night with Eliza, probably to Ashtabula or something. She says I am abusing my privileges, but I cannot see it, especially considering the fact that I haven't gone out with anyone since Kenny and I picked up his tuxedo like 3 weeks ago. I've talked about it but haven't gone because of various occasions that my attendance was requested. But not to mom, geez, she makes it sound like I've been out every night upon night. I don't understand. Indeed the weekends are "the time to go out" according to her, but maybe she should realize that on weekends I work more often than not.
Perhaps we can also throw in the tidbit that there are only a couple of weeks of school left, if that, and it's not like the most grueling and intense grading period is looming ahead of me right now. Heather had seven days of school left. Seven days, and BAM! she is completely out of my life. No more skipping fourth period with her, no more pastry club, water fights, daring hallway endeavors-- nothing. The only friend, if we shall call her that, that I have left to hang out with is Marie. It's my senior year, the last year at this high school that I would like to refer to as a rut in my life, and all I have is Marie.
Love her to death, but I cannot stand this every-other-day friendship. Who could? Anyone with a shaky heart and able to get their feelings heart over virtually anything most certainly could not, and sadly I fit into that category. Praying. Maybe that will be the answer, but I know I am being so pretentious right now that God probably could not be moved by my selfish wants to help me out of this point in my life. But I cannot do this myself; I cannot dig myself out of this mud puddle that I am currently sinking downwards in, and that worries me.
Summer is breathing upon the back of my neck, ready to jump forward full force and I have nothing to do. I guarantee our family will fight, I will be the scapegoat for the majority of our problems, and I will sink even lower. This is what happens every summer, but I'm really afraid of this one because unlike every other year, I am not looking forward to leaving school. 
