The Wackness

Mom (on phone): Oh yeah, Natalie's going to be in this thing or something. Debate? I dunno. But she's gonna be in it. BLAH BLAH BLAH.

What is this? Do mine ears deceive me? Is this not the woman who told me I shouldn't join debate because it'd stress her out?

Mom (on phone): Blah blah blah debate debate blah blah blah yeah.

WTF? She's insane. She's effing crazy. She's schizo. She's bi...polar.

Me: SO DOES THIS MEAN ALL OF A SUDDEN I'M IN DEBATE?
Mom: Yeah, you wanted to join, right? You'll be like Laura. "Que passe el desgraciado!" *imitation of a really loud, really annoying Spanish television host*
Me: ... ? YOU TOLD ME I COULDN'T D:
Mom: I WAS ON MY PERIOD. I WAS STRESSED.
Me: *dumbfounded*

This shit is wack, dog.

And yes, that really did happen. It really did. Not exactly like that. It actually took a little bit of clever guilting on my part, which made me feel like a total DOUCHE (or like il duce) but I mean, really, I was in the RIGHT. I was so in the right, I was practically Rush Limbaugh.

And that excuse is balls. It's so balls, clowns are running in here and juggling it. "I'm on my period..." WHUT.

I don't really get it, but I don't really care. I just know I'm pissed because all this crap totally could've been avoided if my mother just CONSIDERED what I was talking about. OH YES. And I'm totally entering with NO IDEA what debate is because, OH YEAH, I missed the thing today where they were going to demonstrate, which I totally wanted to see but did not because picking me up at that time would've stressed my mother out. Now I gotta go to Douglass and explain that my mother was not at all supportive and that she will not judge/drive/anything so she'd better just forget about it.

Who cares. First extra curricular of my LIFE.