Whiskers on Kittens..

One of my favorite things of all time is when I see my uncle Steve and he says; "Hello Beautiful" or "Hey good-lookin".

I love it.
I love him.
I love my family.
I don't know why I get such a kick out of it. Maybe because I know he means it and I know how much he loves me so it matters just that much more.
It makes my week every time.

Introduction

December 24th, 1988

I'm writing this, not because I feel obligated, but because I believe the world deserves to know their stories other than myself. They never chose this life, I chose it for them and after that, they were stuck. Trapped even. Either way they never had enough guts to even try to get out so I never felt guilty. They were my freaks and I, their ringmaster. I made them famous for their disgusting disfigurements and they still hated me. But that is what I wanted all along, power. I wanted all of my freaks to hate and fear me because I knew that no matter what, they would stay with me because I was the only one in the entire world who made them feel even remotely special. They were special. Every single one of them.
Now and again I begin to pity them. Sure, I put them through some really tough challenges but they all came through every time.. All but one.. This is why I am writing this journal, so the world may learn of their struggles and appreciate them for what they truly were. Human beings. They were my family for 40 years and not a day goes by that I do not think of them. I never apologized, and I do not feel the need to. I took in a terrible group of misfits with no future and I made them stars and they repay me by.. Well.. You will see.. I gave them all the chances that they never dreamed of having and they still never thanked me.
Some say it is because the abuse or the cramped living quarters or the many days with no food. I think that I worked far too hard to experience such disrespect from a group of ingrates. Never trust a freak they say, and I agree. Anyway, I must get this off my chest. I have been holing it in for far too long. However, I must warn you now that these are not your run of the mill "happy stories". Every individual will have a different reaction. I do not want them to make you happy, I want them to inform you. I want them to teach you of a world that you will, hopefully, never have to experience. If you want to read stories of the wonderful thrill of the carnival, look elsewhere because this will not be your cup of tea.
You may think that I am the villain right now, but I loved them all and sooner or later, you will see it my way.

And the winner is..

Barack Obama.
Thank God.
I was literally crying. I'm finally proud to be an American.

Finally.

Fuck you blogspot

It just deleted my entire new blog that I just wrote.
I don't even feel like fucking writing it again.




God damnit.
Basically, my car is fucking broken again and my parents are making me feel like shit about it.

Dress Shopping.

Today was quite possibly one of the most exhausting days I've had in a long time.
First, I couldn't get to sleep until 3 am and then had to wake up at 8am.
Then I took a test, not so bad.
Then I had to face my other two classes.
Then.. I met my sister and mother at the mall to go dress shopping for my cousin's wedding.
Well.. Until today, I never realized how ashamed and embarrassed my mom is to have 2 overweight daughters. Her opinion is the one that matters the most and she is the one who has shoved me towards not loving myself.
Mother is the name for God on the lips and hearts of all children and how can those children even begin to love themselves if their God is embarrassed by them.
I'm sorry I'm not a size 2, I'm sorry I'm not even a size 10! I want to be thin so I can be beautiful in the eyes of society instead of only being beautiful when I see myself in the mirror. I'm embarrassed for my mother. I wish I was the way society thinks I should be.
Maybe I wouldn't feel so unaccepted by the one who's supposed to encourage me and make me love myself no matter what.
I hate the way this makes me feel. I love my mother more than anything in this entire world and to me, she's perfect. Why can't she feel the same way about me?
I'm tired of not being good enough.
I'm tired of not being thin enough or pretty enough or rich enough or nice enough or outgoing enough. But most of all, I'm tired of not loving myself enough to not be so damn self conscious.
Today, made me feel like shit.
This whole shebang will keep making me feel like shit. I hate that society has put a label on how everyone should look but most of all, I hate that everyone follows that.
I just want everyone to fucking accept the fact that not everyone in the world is cut out to be a size 2.
This is so ridiculous.







I found a dress anyway. And it was $168 and I don't care because it made me feel pretty..

Johnny's in the basement mixin' up the medicine.

Every evening is the same headache. I know that no matter how many pills I take, it will come back so I've just given up. I don't know where it comes from or why, but it does. Just like clock work, every evening I have a terrible pounding in my head that doesn't subside until I take something or go to sleep. This used to happen every night of sophomore year then junior year came and it only happened every now and then but then senior year came and it came back. Almost every night. Is it from stress? Do I bring it upon myself? Is it my wisdom teeth? Is it my eyes? I don't know, all I know is that it's quite a burden. I haven't gotten one when I'm driving yet but I know that it will most likely happen soon and I don't know what I'll do if it does.
Every evening is the same headache.
Out of nowhere.
With headaches, there isn't really a complete cure. If you have constant stomach aches, you can get medication and they will go away. It just seems like they're completely out of your hands to fix. The human body is a very confusing place.
Oh well, just gotta tough it out for another night.

This is such a waste of time and internet.
Dumb ass blog.
No one reads it anyway.








Nikki.

Raise your left hand if you feel any discomfort.

I hate going to the dentist. Not because I fear having a cavity or my teeth cleaned but simply because the idea of having a stranger feel around in my mouth for an hour really grosses me out. Also, it really irritates me when they try to talk to you when they're in your mouth up to their wrist.
"So, are you in school?" (As if I can answer) I attempt at a yeah but get a muffled "Hyeeaahh". As I sit in the dentist chair all I can think about is how terrible I must look lying down with my mouth open, drooling, with a lovely double chin in tact. It is very easy for me to get embarrassed and when the time came for the inevitable gob of spit to get stuck on the tooth polisher, I couldn't help but laugh and being that at that moment, good old Ron was the closest a male has been to my mouth since may, he heard me and said laughing, "That's completely normal, the toothpaste is really sticky."
I shudder to think why he thought I laughed.
Well, I left with my pride a bit tarnished but still in tact, for the most part.
Oh how I cannot wait to go to the gynecologist and experience yet another ridiculous situation that turns my cheeks red and gives me something to blog about.
Not.
Trust me, if that ever happens it will not be explicit.
you freaks.

Anyway, hallelujah for pearly whites and almost 19 years with no cavities.
until next time,

Nikki.