100% Done With This School (Warning: I Rant)

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Ok, so the assembly wasn’t terrible. I mean the talker guy was quite funny, his speaking style is a cross between Jimeoin (accent and delivery of jokes) and Eddie Izzard (the actual jokes). All in all, I liked him. However. Who the hell wants to sit through a freaking lecture on finances first thing on a Friday morning when you’re in a bad place already?

I sure as hell didn’t. When I said I got busted in that last post, that was real time, I had honestly just written all of that when Fuckwit… I mean my Chemistry teacher decided to walk in and herd us all to the assembly. I could kill her I am so angry. I’m livid. I want to cut “mudblood” into her arm while screaming at her about how much she fucking sucks as a Chemistry teacher and as a mother to her own child- she’s so nasty to her kid.

Now I’ve had to sign in and I have no clue if I even have English today seeing as my teacher is in a conference. Normally, for any other freaking teacher, that would mean no lesson. Not our good ol’ Mr. Asshole. He probably has a cover teacher lurking somewhere.

I just want to scream. It is so frustrating. I can’t do anything right. Not even skive ONE FREAKING CLASS. I can’t get my 40, I cry at fucking everything. EVERY. THING.

That’s why mum and I got into a fight yesterday. I nearly cried and she embarrassed me by pointing it out as I tried to keep my shit together, which only made it harder. So when we left I snapped at her (did NOT yell as she claims I did, bitch) and said she didn’t have to say anything about me tearing up.

Thus started our current stalemate.

I know her opinions on my hair and frankly I don’t care. I mean, I do. She’s paying for it afterall but we went to the hairdresser yesterday to get an opinion on going back to my natural colour. I’m very aware that she wants me to cut my hair off, or at least 3 inches… (multiply that by 2 and a half and that’s how much the hairdresser will take off, guaranteed).

I don’t want to get my hair cut. I’ve been growing it long for 8 years. I chopped it all off once when I was 11 years old. It’s taken since then for it to have grown this long- by “this long” I mean around halfway down my back.

It’s my fucking hair. Let’s see who put me in this position where I dye my hair in the first place, oh yeah, wait, that would be MY MOTHER.

I never wanted to colour my hair. Never ever ever. I really can’t stand hairdressers. I can’t stand having my hair touched. Seriously, it’s a big issue for me. Anything with my hair is a big issue for me.

It all started when my sister wanted to dye her hair. She’s always been a step ahead of me: she wanted her ears pierced, I didn’t; she wanted to dye her hair, I didn’t; she wanted to get a pedicure, I didn’t.

All but the ear piercings have turned out disastrous for me. The first time I ever, ever got a pedicure I wound up with infected and ingrown toenails. Lovely, isnt’ it? It was chronic for about 4 years or so before mum finally got a doctor to do surgery on my toes. I wound up getting part of one of my nails completely cut off and acid poured down it to ensure that it would never grow back. Ladies and gentlemen, this is the charming life I lead.

The hair dye? As I said, I never wanted my hair done, I knew it was more trouble than it was worth. But mum begged, she insisted, she pleaded and after months and months and months I finally let her play Barbie with my hair. She did a home job highlight set on my hair and it just got worse from there. After a few months the highlights got so bad that I looked like I had tiger stripes in my hair and we went to get it done professionally. Which was the start of my problems.

I get my hair done professionally. I fucking HATE getting my hair done. I HATE IT. SO MUCH. WITH A BLINDING PASSION. Most hairdressers are sadists in my opinion. The first time I had my hair “fixed”, I sat in a chair for nearly 9 hours while about 5 different people danced around my room, brushing, tugging, dying, pulling, washing, blow drying and styling my hair.

It was torture to sit there for 9 hours, my butt died. I honestly couldn’t feel it when I sat down for the rest of the day. It felt so weird. Anyway, put yourself in my shoes, I can’t stand people touching my hair and here I have 5 whole people fussing over it. Taking teeny tiny strands and pulling at it and fiddling with it, then brushing whatever crap they’ve done to it, then putting it back, only to pick up the next  tiniest section of hair they can manage to hold. FOR 9 HOURS.

So yeah. I hate hairdressers. I’ve been getting my hair done for years. I hate it, but I liked being this blonde. I am naturally blonde…. just dirty/ashy blonde, not yellow.

I finally decide to get my hair back to natural and that’s huge for me. Only for mum to start pressuring the hairdresser into admitting I needed the haircut too. I GET IT! I had “terrible” ends as a result of the dipdying, I get it. But CHRIST I’m already over emotional for no rational reason at the moment, the second they started saying I needed so much hair chopped off and was no longer about only dying my hair, it started to get to me. It was too much. I was only prepared to talk about changing my hair colour.

I didn’t want to consider cutting it off too. I know I’ll have to. But it’s frustrating because they’re both fretting over “if I don’t like the new colour then I can never go back to this blonde until all this hair grows out” and I’m sat there like “I don’t fucking care! That’s the point! I want it to grow out, I don’t want to dye it anymore! Why don’t you understand?!”.

So mum and I started fighting when we left the hairdresser, got home and both presented our sides of the story to dad and then sort of got stuck in this stalemate because she won’t get her way.

It makes me want to hit something, or someone, because she won’t let me shave it and fix the whole damn problem. But she won’t let me get the colour taken out unless I get it cut. With the length of my roots right now, if I cut all the coloured parts of my hair I’d look like a cross between Rapunzel at the end of “Tangled” and a dude. THAT IS HOW LONG THESE FREAKING ROOTS ARE!

I just want them gone! I just want to not have to worry about my hair anymore. I want a colour that is similar enough to my natural colour that I can just dye it and be done with it, letting it grow out until all the colour is gone and I’m left with natural hair. My own hair.

So yeah. That’s how yesterday ended. Then this morning she bails, we’re left floundering to try to get to school, I decide that I don’t want to go to class. I decide, why the fuck should I go to an assembly about finances in the UK and US when I’m not even applying there? Nor have any plans to live there in the near future. All my friends skip. They skip regularly. If they can, then so can !I Surely! Surely it can’t be that hard to sit in the library and do my English essay that I so desperately want to finish!

But, of course, my fucking luck kicks in. Not only am I busted, but I’m busted by one of the teachers I hate most in the school. AND to top it all off, the icing on the cake, the cherry on top… she’s the only class I have today.

Chemistry is the ONLY CLASS I HAVE TODAY.

LEKFGNIOUWEHBSJLGKDVNOSUBVSLDJGBSLJVBWOUEGVWEOUFHLDANVBGWOUEFOEFLDABVKHSDBISLDNCKSDBVOUSVWEJBGIUWGSLKVBVSIVW.

So yeah. I’m in a shitty mood. I’m sure it’ll get better though, I have choir today. We’re singing “Bohemian Rhapsody” and although our choir is pretty shitty, all the year 13ers (there’s 3 of us) are getting solos in it. So that is something I’m definitely looking forwards to.

What was your last solo in the school? Oh, just “Bohemian Rhapsody”… Freaking awesome. 😀

Then tonight I’m going to watch the school production, which is supposed to be really, really good.

Hang on. Something just occurred to me.

Oh my god.

I think this day just got better.

I actually don’t think I have chemistry afterall….

I’ve finished the topic in class. I’ve done all the questions. I just need to get the question sheet off her and then I can come back to the library. Right? I mean… that’s what I’ve been doing all week. Chemistry is over until after mocks for me….

YES! SCORE! OMG! OK! SEE? THIS DAY HAS ALREADY JUST GOTTEN 9352680952730% BETTER. I will get the answers off her at break or something… or get them off Nataree. Then I don’t have to see her at all.

English (right now) is a free. TOK is a free. Chemistry is a free. Then I have choir. Then I have one of my ONLY legitimate in-the-timetable frees!

TGIF! Okay, that is probably one of the biggest and best mood swings I’ve ever had ever. All documented in real time, right here.

Hell yeah, my blog, keepin’ it real bitchezzzz! Hahahahahhaa.

I’m smiling so hard right now! God my hormones are fucked. ANYWAY! I am going to finish my English essay and then skip around with the fairies. HAVE AN AWESOME DAY READERS!

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PS- I just got another job for tomorrow! More money! Yay! (I think I’m bipolar… just maybe.)

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