I want to be a Home Economics teacher - get paid to bake and sew and set tables and shit. Only that is unlikely to ever happen and here is why:


Come May I'll be forcibly shoved into the Real World nary a skill, absolutely no cash, without a home or friend or a substantial education. I'll still be cute, well dressed and reasonably thin though, so word. I suppose I could join the hookers on South Beach, or attract a mass of sweetheart sugar daddies and live off their fortunes, or just sell myself to a well off attorney and do his housework and give him blowjobs in exchange for cash and stability. But that's all just a fantasy that only occurs in the movies, huh? Fairy tale ending aren't for wretches like me. No, dumb futureless cunts like moi are destined to lives of low paying jobs, food-stamps and government housing. I'll grow old the way people like me grow old - fat, poorly mannered, low class and husbandless. Society really fails when it comes to people like me. Other people either go off to college, learn a trade or just live off of mother and father into their 30s. I, however, have five months to find a job and a home because once I turn 18 and graduate my parents will be cutting my ass off forever and kicking my ass out of their home. Awesome. I have nothing to live for and it's awesome and I want to cry and shit.

I mean, sure, I would love to attend college once I graduate but It's considerably unlikely that any credible institution would admit an academic slouch like me. My grades are horrendous, and I don't mean horrendous in that "oh noes I got a B my life is over" way that I overhear smart kids whining about. Four years of High School and all I have is a 2 point something GPA, a mediocre SAT score and absolutely no extracurricular activities to show for it. What fucking college would admit me, seriously? So I'm fucked once I graduate. The only school I have a chance of being admitted to is a rather horrendous local four-year where all the poor and/or hispanic kids go to and girl, my ass cannot spend the next four years of my life surrounded by those types. Even if I wanted to attend the school my parents refuse to finance an eduction so close to home. This is where things get interesting - my parents will only finance my education if I leave South Florida, but I can't leave the state. Which leaves the miserable pits of northern and central florida. Psssh, I'd sooner join those whores on South Beach.

I guess I could attend community college during the next two years and build an impressive GPA so that I can transfer to a notable institution to finish the last two years of my B.A or whatever but everyone at the local community college is fat/ugly/poor, so no potential sexual partners there so child, forget that. Because seriously, I've always planned to spend the two years after graduation just getting laid/wasted/pretty and depressed poor single mothers (the typical community college set) just are not suitable partners for that. So, I've narrowed my post-high school graduation plans to either prostitution and becoming a hairstylist. I can get my license within a year and get to work making cash cutting rich girls' hair, so cool. Only I can't picture myself not going to college. Only college is simply not an option I can consider at this point. Only college is an option, but it would only be on my parent's terms. Ugh, die parents/options/fate.


Beyond all that shit, life's grand. I've gotten taller and thinner, damn right, and I have a closet of rather beautiful threads that garner praise wherever I go. My friend's love and cherish me and well, I'm just overall happy and crap. For the first time in a long time, believe you me. So whatever. I'll keep you posted, you nonexistent person you.

I can't believe I'll be 18, a motherfucking legal adult, within half a year. Goodbye years as hot jailbait, I'll miss your asses.

Anorexia fucking works. It totally works. I'm 20 pounds lighter than I was when I first started depriving myself of food/nutrients, and I couldn't be more satisfied with the end result. My waist is so much tinier, my arms no longer resemble logs, and my thighs are no longer the tragic epidemic they were pre-starvation. I had to buy a complete new wardrobe because my old clothes fit me like bedsheets, and I was totally not digging the Mary-Kate homeless-chic look, though I'm totally digging the Mary-Kate diet plan.

There's no better feeling than when a group of fat chicks officially dub you their "thinspiration", or when random people ask "have you been eating?"

I quit my job as a Mcdonald's kitchen slave, which I've been saying I'd do since I got the damn job. I can't believe I worked there for longer than a year, amist the immigrants and the obese and the deadbeats and what have you. Now that I'm not surrounded by pounds upon pounds of meatburgers, I can constrict my caloric intake even more. I basically eat nothing but fruits and vegetables now - I might have a bagel for breakfast, then I'll have a vegetable salad with an apple and a few saltine crackers during lunch. When I get home from school I rush for the kitchen (sadly), and I grab something to eat that's less than 200 calories. Then I just wait until dinner, when I'll have a reduced portion of whichever meat my family is having but I load up on the veggies so my plate looks fuller and my eating less suspect to parental scrutiny.

Then I just repeat that shit day-to-day, with a diet coke or bottle of propel fitness water (which is basically my new obsession) tossed in for hydration of what have you.

It's senior year, bitches, and things have been going pretty flawlessly. That's why I've been posting so sparingly - I don't have much to bitch about anymore, which is the main reason I have this xanga. Right now, I'm not having any issues with the parents (as I never talk to them - how can there be conflict where there is avoidance?). I don't talk to my sister either, who over the year has morped into a vicious little cockfiend. And to think I once thought she was a homosexual. I'm getting good grades, things are great with the friends, I have tons of expendable cash thanks to my year long toiling. Basically, I'm not going to bitch until I can come up with some real issues.

I'm listening to a lot of funky music now. My taste are flip-flopping between the glitchy electro-pop of the Lali Puna sort to dreamy indie-pop in the vein of the Decemberists. I'm watching a lot of television right now as well (project runway = love.) I'm just being a damn teenager quite frankly, and it feels wicked great.

I drop shitloads of cash on clothes and makeup now. Shopping sprees and window shopping consume large portions of my time. I like to pretend I'm rich and that I have a large reserve of non depleting cash sitting somewhere that I can always run to when my LV bag runs dry, but now that I'm unemployed I suppose I'll have to cutback. Or get another fucking job.

Oh by the way, Myspace kicks ass. <3

“They only want you when you’re seventeen - when you’re twenty one, you’re no fun.”

-Ladytron. 
                                        

It’s my birthday, so calories don’t count. I’ve fucking binged straight today - leftover assorted BBQ’d meats for breakfast, more leftover BBQ’d meats for lunch and a damn moist strawberry cake (topped with strawberry ice-cream, of course) for dinner. Delicious? Very much so. I’ve been exercising for about an hour a day since school let out (which is fucking rad, since there’s always a group of fit ass guys to serve as motivation) so I figure that indulging my inner fat-ass, if even for a day, won’t be seriously consequential. Watch how I gain like 2 pounds though.


 Turning seventeen has been seriously bittersweet thus far. I must admit, I’ve been feeling like a washed up old hag. I might have to start referring to myself as 16+ from now on, as “17" just sounds so abnormally old to me... I might as well have crows feat and wrinkles because that’s how I feel. This is the first time that I’ve ever regarded a birthday with such towering disdain. You’d think I was turning 30 or something, as I’ve managed to convince myself that turning 17 is pretty much equivalent to the demise of my youthful appeal and utter cuteness. I’ve become incredibly vapid over the last few months, what with my weight and fear of aging. I can imagine my 15-year-old self wagging a finger at me and spouting quasi-intellectual verbal lashings in regards to my current world outlook.


1-2 years ago all I was devoted to world peace and politics. Now all I care about is which granola bar has less fat and if the little Asian manicurist washed her hands before touching my feet. I’ve been  reading some of my previous posts from the last year and I’m simply amazed at how much I cared about the world and how passionate and analytical I was in regard to things I now view as petty - Bush, Terri Schiavo...who cares? I’ve got 2 pounds to lose by Thursday, thanks. Speaking of which, I got a weight scale for my birthday. Ask me not why my parental units thought it brilliant to purchase a weight scale for their knowingly disordered spawn. They must really loathe me and want to flaunt my grotesqueness for their own cheap thrill. I’ll be out in a year anyway.


School is out. Woot. I have 2 months to spend dodging my friends and writing, writing, writing. I’ll have produced the next great American novel by August. I’m still rather half-dazzled that I’ve managed to complete my junior year without serious self-mutilation/offing myself/being raped/ dropping out. This last school year has been surprisingly anticlimactic for my standards. I didn’t run away from home, I made a nice bit of cash and my GPA actually rose *gasp*. I can’t wait for the summer to end so I can wrap up with this wretched high-school education system and get the fuck out of Florida, soon. The heat here is causing my brain to melt and living with my parents is growing more and more unbearable. Thank Goddess they're filthy rich and can afford an apartment for me in the heart of Manhattan AND pay my way through college. I feel like a gold digging whore, like I’m using my parents for their money. Well, that is pretty much the case and being a gold digging whore isn’t so bad when the people you’re gathering resources from regarded you as shit all your life. I genuinely dislike them as people and not in the vapid kneejerk I’m-a-teenager-and-I-hate-my-parents-as-an-act-of-rebellion way. No, I’ve tried forming relationships with them. They’re just too busy worshiping at Jesus’s alter and doing whatever the hell it is rich people do to pay me any mind.

*Cries.*        

And happy birthday to Jadedposer, who shares my birthday and is a far cooler xangan than I am. Even if I can't view her blog anymore because it's rated adult and she's doing the nasty over there.  And why the hell is Xanga adopting Myspace features? Xanga is supposed to be the anti-myspace, not it's loser younger brother.