Bye Bye 30 Days of Vaccuum Cleaners?

Dear Sydney,

The past two days have been pretty nice. Sort of? So, uh, hooray for niceness.

I saw the movie "30 Days of Night", and I'm not gonna lie, I about peed my los pantalones quite a few times... Like, those vampires seriously gave me the heeby jeebies! And I don't even know what heeby jeebies are, but I sure as heck had them... I'm guessing so anyways. If you get the 'heeby jeebies' when you're terrified, well then, I owned 'em last night, fasho.

I must've jumped eight thousand times during that movie. Occasionally I would accidentally bump my friend Moe on her arm, and she would jump a hundred feet in the air off of her seat. I think I did that like five or six times. Ehe? It was alright, though, because if I was scared at the time, I started laughing and it would get rid of my heeby jeebies for about two seconds. So that was cool.

At one point, this guy in the movie had a giant light to scare the little vampies away. And you're like "YEAAHHH!!" all excitedly and happily. And then his light goes out. So me, Moe, and like two or three other people in the movie theatre all went, "AH SHIT!" all at the same exact time. Then everyone there started laughing pretty hard.

For some reason during scary movies, I always put my hands in front of my face and watch the screen through my fingers. It's pointless because it's not like I'm hiding from what's going on in the movie at all. I can see everything. I guess each and every finger on my hand acts like a security blanket or whatever. Or maybe it's just that those vampires were so effing scary that I was cowering my hands over my face so that if one would suddenly appear in the empty theatre seat next to me, my cheeks/mouth/eyes/nose/pimples/whatever would be protected? No, that sounds dumb, never mind that.

Maybe it was just because I like grabbing my face like a psychotic retard, I don't know. Or care. So why do I keep babbling about this?

Moving on.

I had dance team practice for two hours today. WHEN WE DIDN'T HAVE SCHOOL. So I didn't even get to sleep in. I was only mildly tempermental about this... *sarcasm*

I hate kicklines. A lot. My legs are too short for them. How the heck can anyone expect them to kick all the way up to my neck if the length TO MY NECK is still not tall enough than what everyone else can do? If they seriously want me to do that, they're obviously going to have to chop off my legs and find me some freakish Barbie looking ones. Since you know, if Barbie was a real person, she supposedly would be like eight effing feet tall. So maybe I wouldn't want Barbie ones. But nice ones. Like... Kari, this sophomore girl on my dance team. She dances a lot even off-season, so her legs are very beautifully straight. And she's not a midget. Unlike me, who is cursed with it for the rest of my life.

I went to a play tonight. "Bye Bye Birdie". It was okay... some of the people performing, though, kinda sucked. But the main roles were picked wonderfully. The back-up people were just kinda like... well... let's just say there was this one girl who just pretty much sat down and started bawling on the stage in the middle of a scene, so the curtain had to go up while they had to carry her off stage or something. And this other girl was dancing up there looking so insanely happy that I half-expected her head to pop off from smiling that hard. I was like... wow. No. Just.. no.

Apparently this year, our school is doing a production of Bye Bye Birdie. I'll try out, I just don't have the greatest singing voice in the entire world, despite being in my school's chorus, so I won't get a lead role. I'm hoping I'll get the biggest part you can get that doesn't involve singing. I can't sing solo in front of people. It doesn't work. I open my mouth, and this freakishly weird sounding squeak of air comes out. And my cheeks burn. And then I can't breathe, and... it's just a huge emotionally scarring mess. Yep yep.

Jon hasn't talked to me in these past two days.

It makes me depressed because I like him so much and he always makes my day 83579933673 times better.

Oh well. I'm sure he's talking to (and stupidly hugging... and stupidly kissing... and holding her stupid stupid hand) his stupid girlfriend plenty enough for the stupid both of us.

Ugh. Why I tell you?! WHYYYYYYYY.

Oh wait. I know.

CAUSE BOYYYSSS SUUUUCKK.

That's right, boys, you all suck. Worse than vaccuum cleaners. So stop sucking so much. Breastfeeding should've ended years ago. (If you don't get what I mean, boys, oh well. It obviously means you're stupid. Which I already know.)

Boys, basically.. stop being jerks and realize who honestly cares about you, and when you do, don't treat them like doggy doodoo. Thank you.

Well, I'm off to bed. My venting is done. Any further, and you are going to think I need to go to a psychiatrist. (Which, I actually have been to, just like Oliver does in my fanfic, but that's a whole different story and venting topic I don't need to go into at the moment.)

Much love,
Kaylee <3