My birthday is in two weeks. Who wants to send me money? Or at a getaway since Spring Break is the week before my birthday? C'mon! The Monday after SB is the joyus holiday known as Hexe's Birthday. How depressing? I'll be sitting in class. So please, in order to make me feel better and not teary eyed that monday: get me stuff. or at least send me an e-card. 
We've had a subsititue in German this week. She's a native German speaker, so needless to say she's way harder than our normal prof. She talks to fast and assigns too much homework.
So I have to write 5 pages of my stupid doc script before spring break. Yeah, not that hard. Might be fun. One thing: I have no fucking clue who to do this wacky format he assigned and he refuses to show us how to do it. Punk.
I can't wait to go home. I'm goign to guilt trip my parents (it's my birthday!) to let me go to Broad Ripple and vintage shop and record shop for hours. I'll drag my mommy with me. Call me square, but I love going out early Saturday morning with my mom to go thrift shopping ('junking' as the Ma calls it) and drive around the city. I don't see her all the time now, so we usually don't end up fighting like we used to.
But meh. Birthdays were never a big deal in my family. Get a card, get a cake, maybe go to Olive Garden, get a gift or two, day's over. I haven't had a party since my 5th or 6th birthday. I never had a big enough circle of friends too. A bithday party for me would consist of my parents, my best friend, my brother, and maybe his handful of friends (Oh yeah. I share a birthday, for I am what you kids call a Twin.) eating cake and watching Simpsons DVDs. My 21st birthday will be a sad sight. I'll probably go out to dinner, then go to bed. I'm just not fun. But I rock anyway.
I love your ass for bad or worse
I love your nasty way you curse
When you sit down, it's wild how you sit grind your heel in the ground.....the groovy way you spit.
ooh you look good ooh you smell good ooh you taste good like a bad girl should When I need love, I love how you feel When I need dough,
I love how you steal
I love your sick way you think
The way your perfume makes you stink I love your boots...your fancy clothes your boufant hair...your pantyhose
I blow a gasket for your pink jellybean Your picnic basket splits my spleen
We've had a subsititue in German this week. She's a native German speaker, so needless to say she's way harder than our normal prof. She talks to fast and assigns too much homework.
So I have to write 5 pages of my stupid doc script before spring break. Yeah, not that hard. Might be fun. One thing: I have no fucking clue who to do this wacky format he assigned and he refuses to show us how to do it. Punk.
I can't wait to go home. I'm goign to guilt trip my parents (it's my birthday!) to let me go to Broad Ripple and vintage shop and record shop for hours. I'll drag my mommy with me. Call me square, but I love going out early Saturday morning with my mom to go thrift shopping ('junking' as the Ma calls it) and drive around the city. I don't see her all the time now, so we usually don't end up fighting like we used to.
But meh. Birthdays were never a big deal in my family. Get a card, get a cake, maybe go to Olive Garden, get a gift or two, day's over. I haven't had a party since my 5th or 6th birthday. I never had a big enough circle of friends too. A bithday party for me would consist of my parents, my best friend, my brother, and maybe his handful of friends (Oh yeah. I share a birthday, for I am what you kids call a Twin.) eating cake and watching Simpsons DVDs. My 21st birthday will be a sad sight. I'll probably go out to dinner, then go to bed. I'm just not fun.
But I rock anyway.
I love your ass for bad or worse
I love your nasty way you curse
When you sit down, it's wild how you sit grind your heel in the ground.....the groovy way you spit.
ooh you look good ooh you smell good ooh you taste good like a bad girl should When I need love, I love how you feel When I need dough,
I love how you steal
I love your sick way you think
The way your perfume makes you stink I love your boots...your fancy clothes your boufant hair...your pantyhose
I blow a gasket for your pink jellybean Your picnic basket splits my spleen
VIEW 9 of 9 COMMENTS
evil:
fractal:
I throw myself a huge party every year on my birthday and wear a tiarra.