I'm The Geek Who Slapped A Football Player.

35 - Plans

You may yell all you want...I know it is well deserved...but here it is!

Chapter 35:

                       

            I generally pride myself in my ability to not give a flying fuck what anyone thinks about my appearance. Yes, I let my hair run wild (there’s no hope for it anyhow). I do wear make up, but mainly just mascara to make my nonexistent (seriously!! They’re like not even centimeters long! A curse I tell you!) eyelashes visible, and some foundation/cover-up stuff to hide my zits (they have gotten a helluva lot better though, seriously). I wear whatever the fuck clothes that I fucking want, period. Polos for life bitches!!

            I really don’t care anymore about what I look like to other people, ever.

            Except today.

            “Gah!!” I yelp as I slouch down in my chair and glower at myself in my vanity mirror. I look like a fucking idiot.

            I had actually done it. I’d gone to Walmart and Dollar Tree this weekend and shopped for…Homecoming Week clothes. Ugh, I just shudder at the damned thought. But Scarlett had relentlessly hounded me via text messages all freaking weekend, threatening my life (in various ways. She’s freaking devious I tell you. Maybe I’m rubbing off on her ehehe..). Even when I’d told her that I was in damned Dollar Tree she made me take a picture of the crap I was gonna buy as proof. Not a joke.

And so, I’ve vaguely dressed up for the dress up day today…as a…god it’s embarrassing but I didn’t know what else to do! Everything sounded stupid so I just went with what I know…sort of…

            Oh al-fucking-right I’ll just damned tell you.

            I’m dressed as a cat.

            Yeeess, I know what you’re thinking. ‘A cat? Really? Gonna run around in a tight little cat-suit and make meow noises all day ya little ho!’ Hell no. Hellllsss too the nooooo. I just…did something which was basically nothing.

            I found a little headband in Dollar Tree with cat ears on it, and I’d initially scoffed at it and tossed it. Then later circled back and dug it out of its bin, growling out a sigh. Then I’d bought some eye-liner (not for my damned eyes!) and when I’d gotten home I’d dug around and found the old wire/felt tail that my mom had worn for her Rat costume some years ago (please don’t ask. It was embarrassing as hell, my dad wore all yellow and a cheese head hat and I was mortified and never ever ever accompanied them to one of my mom’s staff parties again. End of story).

            And so now, I sit in front of my vanity mirror, with a child’s cat headband stuffed on my head (its honestly hard to see though all of my stupid fucking hair), the felt/wire rat tail hooked into the belt-loop of my caprees (it was crushed in a box so its permanently bent at an acute angle), a black-ish (its faded as fuuuccckk) polo on, and I’ve drawn on a nose and whiskers on my face via the eye-liner.

            “I look so fucking stupid.” I say out loud, to no one in particular.

            Nibbles jumped up onto my vanity (nearly knocking over my little cluster of Bath&Body Works perfumes in the process). He looked at me curiously for a moment, as if he’d noticed my attempt at mimicking his appearance. “How do I look?” I ask, smirking at his big eyes.

            He ignores me and turns to the mirror, seeking out his reflection. I’m pretty sure Nibbles thinks he found his long lost twin – after he’d gotten over the initial shock that first time hahaha – and now incessantly paws and jumps at the glass. God he’s a dork.