Just When I Think Everythings Going Great

Today my friend commented upon a drawing this person was doing on the board, just a drawing, nothing out of the ordinary, a comment basically made to herself.

"It looks like an egg head".
"You're an egg head".

This is becoming a recurring theme with peoples, a certain type of people if you get my drift (I AM UNCOOL) insults, not only do they on average suck, using the others peoples own words but they have no real need to insult them, no matter how bad the insult is. Its just randomly grabbing air, its not like they called them a flying green spotted nincompoop and they feel the need to hit back because they're the bigger person, its just nothing. In other news there a chance that our school formal will be cancelled, and hopefully it will.

Why? As a girl should I not be proud to dress up in the manner of things, for a boy one might add, dance, and do those essential girly, teen dream things, such as buying shoes. Well no. For one, I can't dance. Yes, 10 years of ballet dancing has done nothing for my grace, sense of timing or anything else for that matter, but boy have I got good turn out! No, I dance like a cardboard gorilla, perhaps a gorilla that's arms move up and down once in a while, add a few clicks and by jove! You've got me spicing it up to "Golddigger", the boys are well impressed. (For that to happen, you need to rub your groin up against their leg, a bit like a dog humping it before they are so impressed they have to "go to the bathroom")

That's the other thing. The music will suck. If the mood takes me, a certain 80's Kylie number comes on, or Little Richard, I dance up a storm, I dance like a woman on speed. But that never happens, and perhaps for the reasons as stated before(I have inherited my fathers dancing skills, which in the late 1970's caused him to give his friend a black eye whilst dancing to "Ballroom Blitz"). For instance my Year 6 social ("The Big Bike Boogie" I might add, if that name doesn't inspire you to boogie down, I don't know what will) consisted of a soundtrack of Bob the Builder and Mambo Number Five, to which I spent the whole night backed up against the wall making pretty patterns with my glow sticks. So I'm not expecting much. My parents recall dancing in the 80's as wearing mohair jumpers and swaying from side to side, now that, I could do.

Then theres the date. The whole kerfuffle about who will go with who. Honest to blog, it shouldn't matter, because they're not going to dance with you romantically like Patrick Swayze, no Dirty Dancing for you and most certainly no end of night Pretty in Pink style kiss. (In retrospect, I would've chosen Duckie, Blaine does sound like a kitchen appliance) You'll just sort of stand there, adopting my method of clicking out of time. Or else you'll hump them, either way really.

And then theres the outfit. Now in History a while back, Sir asked us to make a list of what to do to get ready for the formal. He had separated the females from the males and asked us to compose separate lists. So I sat there as all the females around me desperately scrawled and I wrote (well firstly I wrote-"rent out movie pref. a comedy"because at that time I wasn't considering going) "condition hair". Sir then proceeded to ask us to read out our lists. The other girls read out "do nails, buy dress, buy shoes, do toenails, get hair done and lalalalalala" then thinking I would be a repeat asked me to read out my list. "Condition hair". Sir slightly amused said, "no dress then? no shoes?". The whole point of the exercise was to show how greatly different girls were to guys in their preparations, a sort of difference in the sexes and how females feel the need to prim up for the male ape race. Basically beginning our topic on feminism. I guess with me he lost his argument. (Later in the term he read my "rent movie" comment whilst flipping through my book, this again left him highly amused and despite my feminist rights attitude inherited from my gran, I felt like a complete twat.). So I'm not really looking forward to the getting ready part. Yet, I have bought my items already. What! Feminist rights activist me has already bought her dress and shoes? Why yes, I have, and how? Well, you might ask. I am aiming to spend the least amount of money on the formal as I can. At the moment I have a round total of 10 dollars, for my shoes and dress, in comparison to my friend whose budget is 800 buckaroos, inclusion of fake tan.

So, I'm set. All I need to do now is "condition hair".