of Tantrums and Retardness

When I first heard about the slight possibility of moving to Virginia, I thought "K, ya'll have a good time, I'll be here if you need me!" Since I was living in the dorm, my parents left for Virginia without me. Sweet jesus, can you smell the freedom? *sniff* I sure can!

And with said newfound freedom! I shall! Not go to class! Ever!

Which is pretty ironic since I had perfect attendance in high school up until my senior year when my mom let me take "senior skip day." Yeah, I was that girl. I did pretty average in high school too. Nothing extraordinary. Took some honors classes. but oh my! never the "GT" classes! GT = Gifted and Talented. Honored I am, yet Gifted and Talented? not so much. I graduated in the middle of my class since the first half had all 4.0's and above. I would go to the overachiever school...

oops, where was I...?

Right so, Spring break came along and I got to go to Virginia! Yay! Cold! freezing! omfg its still snowing? Virginia. I, being the ultimate spoiled brat, was not a happy camper cuz everyone else was going to the beach (eeps! bathing suit!) or something similar. Which meant that where ever they were going they were sure to return with a nice tan/sunburn. I, on the other hand, would return with frost bite. I was sure of it.

Spring break ended up being alright since I was still absolutely sure that there was no way in hell that I was moving here. Seriously? its friggin MARCH and it's still cold? F. that.

Yes well, remember "freedom! I shall!. . ."

Fail the semester!

Nice work Trish!

So, I was forced to move with no hope of return upon the end of my 4 month vacation freshman spring semester.

man o man, the drama queen emerged with a verocity I had yet seen. I cried! I yelled! I cried! I stomped around! I was rude and hateful!

Then I got my grades! and hid in my room!

and that was that. for weeks I was a mopey little spoiled brat who should have been smacked quite a few times. I cried silently in my room. I talked to my friends back in TX on the phone scheming on how I could get back there. Having no money and no job though was not helping the plans. I WROTE SAD POETRY, people! I mean how old was I again? 18? Really? Act like it, ya retard! Always taking the victim role when it is my own damn fault. Interesting.

This is right about the time that I met the bf and everything changed...

---To Be Continued---