I'm... Bald

Friday I did the craziest thing.Long, thick, split-ended, wavy, heavy, high-maintainence hair GONE!
Not all gone, but 13 inches of it.

Here's me before:

Sigh...
My best friend held my hand for support. I think she was more worked up than I was.

Then before I could put anything more into perspective, it was in pigtails and being chopped off.

I wanted to cry right then.

My hair is my secuiruty blanket. It's what I hide behind and play with when I'm nervous. It's what I pull at and cover my face with.
I don't have it anymore! It's in a padded envelope on its way to Florida. I FEEL NAKED. It's like I got a limb chopped off.
I'm still coming to terms with it.

& I donated it all to Locks of Love, this will be my third time donating.

So it all goes to a good cause, but now I'm kind of sad.

I can't ever think of titles I'm sorry

So school sucks and especially high school.
At 14 you're thrown into the jungle- this whole novel lifestyle that you've only seen on the screens.
And it's who you're with. It's who you're not with.. It's your hair. It's your makeup. It's what you wear. And don't you dare dig into your middle school wardrobe because all you've got is that passing millisecond in the hall to make your impression. Where this impression goes, I don't know..
Too much eyeliner- whore. Short hair- lesbian. Blasting music- punk. Flipflops- gay. Sagging pants- punk. So-much-cleavage-I-can-basically-see-your-nipples- desperate. All black- goth. Jersey- jock. Cheerleading uniform- prep. You know what glasses I'm talking about- hipster.

Sigh. I literally did just walk thru the hall in my most angry, judgemental, bitchy disposition, labeled every innocent I saw, and recorded it. I feel really bad thinking about it so hard, but it's kind of... What we do.
I don't exactly know how this started and why we do it, but that how our little adolescent thought process has been wired.
Highschool is scary! We're all catty little things, and you're never safe from a label. And I don't think that's ever going to change. But you know what can change?

YOUR ATTITUDE! :D *convert every insult into complement*

Taylor, oh god, optimism...

No... But, I'm just saying it's your decision to give a damn about what a stranger thinks of you.

Like, I'll choose not to care about whether you think my cargo pants make me look twelve, or that you think I'm gay because I hold my friends' hands,

or that you think I'm a dork because I'm in orchestra(hahaha wellll....)...

...because *I* know what kind of person I am, and I'm proud of it. So why should I let some exterior opinion tamper with that?

Golly!

My brothers and I think about the dumbest things. I'm only saying dumb because that's what those with higher maturity levels might say, except for it's not dumb to us, it's what we think about.

Last night the topic was variations of fart noises. Instead of that unpleasant, well-known passing gas sound, out comes a positive intergection voiced in a super high-pitch:

"Yippee!"

"Gee whiz!"

"Golly!"

"Yahoo!"

Farting in class just got way less embarrassing. Or more. Where ever you and your sophistication stand.

We also think it'd be great if our cats wore clothes. I know this is gonna be a lot more interesting if you have a better visual, but I do not have pictures handy of them. Luckily, Tyce looks like Salem from Sabrina the Teenage Witch, and Molly looks basically like a ferret.

Tyce is really really fat, but he's been losing weight because we've been starving him like the excellent owners we are. My dad calls it a "diet" when it's really just letting Molly get primary dibs, but she only eats like 3 pieces, so Tyce is still pretty fat.  Anyways, he'd probably be wearing sweat pants and a stained under shirt(stained from what, I don't know), and Molly would probably be wearing some cute flowy, floral dress. Then when we're having company over we yell at the cats to "put on something nice", so Tyce goes and grabs his Hollister polo, and Molly puts on a bonnet. I'm not sure how the bonnet is relevant to anything but I just think it'd be cute.

Also, our cats are very talkative. But we wished our cats could sing. My text can't really do it any justice, but Tyce's meow would be very low and opera-y and go something like:

"MeeeeeeYOOOOOW"

Cowardly-lion style.

That's all the rambles for tonight. I promise to be more textually-active. I might break that promise... But if you send me a lot of annoying reminders I might not.

Oh and here's some pictures of me and my brothers: