Today I woke up super early for me and promptly fell back to sleep. My mother bribed me into going to breakfast with a promise of hair gel. We went to a cafe with the grands and I had the most epic tofu scramble ever. It had avacado and tomatoes in it; I'll be wanting more tomorrow.
After breakfast, my mother and I walked to Long's to get hairshit. I literally ran into my uncle and cousin while strolling around looking at the floor which was super awkward. After we were done shopping, we went outside to wait to be picked up by my grandma. While we were out waiting, some 40 year old loser who hated life decided to give me hair advice. He was like, "You should grow out the back blah, blah, blah and wear your 'hawk like that." I ignored him and he kept talking loudly at me while locking his bike up. He clearly didn't understand that his advice was unwelcome.
Any normal person would get the clue to STFU, but this freak didn't seem to get it. Oh well. Anyway, he basically said that I should wear it in a mullhawk, "hey 90's I miss you! come back!" ...Lying. Please don't. I hate it when people refer to a mohawk as a "hawk" just like I hate it when people call tattoos "tats". It sounds retarded and besides, it's a hairstyle and tribe of indigenous peoples; not a bird. I personally prefer to do it up English and call it a mohican. The man's loud suggestions honestly made me laugh my ass off. I suppose this was rude, but so was he.
On his way into the store, finally, he goes, "Believe it or not, I used to call myself gutter punk. I still wear the colours." As soon as the doors closed behind him my mother turns to me and completely deadpan, says, "He used to be gutter punk. Aren't you impressed?" I literally collapsed on the ground laughing. I really did almost pee. My mother is hilarious; and I was highly un-impressed. On his way back out of the shop, he decided to address my mother. "Mom, don't worry, this phase she's in will pass. I dropped out of it after about ten years." As if my mother was remotely ashamed of me. And there is no "phase" that I'm in. I enjoy having unique hair is all. I don't label myself anything as I neither believe in labels nor think I fit under any that exist. Clearly he hated his life and was jealous that I was so comfortable. I suppose he thought I was trying to rebel. I was just a bit of a rebel when I was 17 since I wasn't allowed to do certain things. Being 18 I just do whatever I want and am allowed to anyway, so it's no rebellion. How sad and pathetic this man was.
He took it just a step too far though when he was riding away, calling back, "Lay off the drugs." How fucking dare anyone make assumptions like that about me based on my hair. Just because I'm relaxed and comfortable about myself does not at all mean that I'm on drugs since I'm not angry at the world like he probably was. I mean, yeah, I do hate quite a few people, but that's because as a whole, I think people are stupid, and I'm kind of a genius. Not my fault. I shouted back, "I'm straight-edge, thanks!" Which really isn't true, but it's better than saying, "I rarely smoke pot and I drink responsibly!" besides, I was wearing a shirt that said, "Kiss me. I don't smoke." Durr... fucking hate morons.
After that lovely incident, an excellent woman talked to me about my awesome hair, asked if I was in cosmetology school, which I'm going to be, and said, "Don't worry; I'll run him over when I leave." I gave her a hug. Grandma took my mother and I to a vegan bakery which was aces high. I got short bread and cupcakes, then we picked up my cousin. I watched Home Alone 3 which is the funniest Christmas movie ever.
Sorry! is decidedly my least favourite game in the universe. It sucks and a half.
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