Gothpants

Amazing Heavy Metal Destruction Punk Bondage Death Pants of Doom.
They're actually not scary. It's just fun to say that. I have Gothpants for tomorrow. Cause I'm going goth for a day. For the movie. But my hair's not black. It should be. But the stuff I used smelled awful, and it didn't even turn my hair black. Just dark brown. Which isn't much of a change from light brown. So I washed it out and now I have red streaks. But I'm not good at making streaks, so I just have two big patches of red on each side of my head.
I really like those pants. I had to promise my mom not to wear them with a black shirt, except for shooting the movie. Cause she doesn't like the image.
I'm not scared of Hot Topic anymore. I don't now why I was. I did have a pretty scary dream about it, though. I went there for pants, and I couldn't find any. Then the clerk brought some out in thin metal containers. I have no idea how they fit in there. I had to try really hard not to look at the ceiling, because apparently it had a picture that would scare me so bad I would cry every time we got near the mall.

Will the madness never cease?!

That's just so fun to say. Or scream agonizingly.
Seriously, I'll be lucky if I have time to breathe tomorrow. And I have nothing to do today. I like being busy, though, so it's not going to be terrible.
I'm really looking forward to summer this year. Not only do I have no school, I'm going to Creation fest and camp. I don't think I've ever been to a week-long resident camp before. I've been to day camp. When I was eight. And this annoying kid kept trying to convince me there was a ghost living in the old house.
That reminds me of the reunion.... *pulls off mask* "I'm a girl!" *little boy screams and runs away.* Boring conversation anyway.
"You will not find his address on this piece of paper." "It says pickles...."
Apparently I confuse people a lot. And make them drop things. Well, I have the same effect on myself, why not other people?
Balloons are not cool. Si senor!

"Mmmmm, sharp."

Wow. So close, yet so far.
But I'm not gonna go into that. It's probably my fault anyway.
I went to my grandparents house on Sunday after church. They started asking us kids what we wanted to do. Career-wise. They took Emily seriously. And Jason too, even though he has no idea what he's going to do. Not me, though. I want to be in a band. Dismissed. Whatever. "Teens find it glorifying to be in a band." In others words, get a real job. Hello, I'm not out for stardom. In case you haven't noticed, I'm shy. I don't like being in the spotlight unless it's with people I know and am comfortable with. If it's for anyone's "glory" it's not mine. That's why I don't like talking to people about what I want to do with my life.
I actually gave someone the impression I wanted to be clinically insane when I grow up. No, I just want to live in an insane asylum when I'm old and retired.
I'll probably pass the test with flying colors. Screaming "Hello!" while looking at my bare feet...
I'm having a party tomorrow. With guitars and chocolate-covered poprocks. But it'll probably rain.