February 25th, 2012

Before heading to Bancroft- my sister, Chris, and I went to target. I bought lashes for the show since I didn’t wear any last night. I also bought cookies&creme flavored granola bars. Headed to Starbucks afterwards. They didn’t have the blonde roast coffee so the cashier mentioned something to me and said that he was able to make it taste almost the same. I added peppermint syrup this time. Four pumps. When I took a sip, it was unpleasant. It was pretty dark but the after taste was just worse. So I threw it away + the drink itself wasn’t hot anymore anyway. I already done my make-up so I have nothing to worry about. We surprised my good friend, Ian, since his birthday will be tomorrow and another friend baked him cake. I went ahead and stretched right when we got inside the auditorium at Bancroft. My dance teacher gave out some notes, but it wasn’t rash. I was worried about the notes the whole entire time, but I guess it wasn’t as bad. After the show, I was looking for the black tights that I borrowed from my sister + not being able to find it. I tried to find it, but it wasn’t the one I was looking for. But before all that, there were two other girls in the show who were looking for theirs. The other chick knows her tights, and I also know the tights that I was wearing. So I know who has the tights I originally have, which are my sister’s favorite tights. I took the tights I found. Told my sister after the show, and I was glad she wasn’t mad. However, it disturbs me madly. I’m responsible for something that isn’t mind, yet things happen to just get lose. I mean, no hard feelings- but I’m just damn. Why would anyone steal? especially from ME. This is how you know your victims if you’re the accuser and you just happen to act differently around them. Just because I happen to be in the scene when you happen to lose your tights and I’m there knowing what/where my shit is at, don’t mean I took yours. Plus, I know what I’m responsible of and I don’t care about your shit laying around. AND you should know where the fuck you would leave that shit around. I’m just damned it had to happen. But as long as I live with my sister not mad over her favorite tights as I am, then I’m lucky enough. Thank goodness I’m the most positive person in this world. My father is also pissing the living crap of me. Words and a bazillion other reasons. So much that I don’t know where to start + so I don’t ever mention it on my blog.