Its always awkward to catch sight of yourself in the mirror while you're getting dressed. Viewed from the right distance, your less-than-Greek form is fully noticeable for the first time, and you realise you look as if god has reached a hand down from heaven and crushed your torso in his hand like a piece of paper. You notice that you look a bit like you have rickets. Not a pretty sight.
Luckily I have my sweet style, which more than makes up for it.
Anyway, today is Saturday, which marks the beginning of my birthday weekend. If my 16Th birthday is anything to go by, this one has a lot to live up to (Apparently, on my 16th I confronted my friend in the hall, demanding sex. I can look back on it with wry humour now, but at the time it was mortifying.) I'm debating weather to put credit on my phone for the occasion, the only thing that's stopping me is my horrifying prophecy of ringing someone at 2 in the morning and confessing things which need not be confessed. I would say who, but that's just no fun.
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