"There are those who would rather shake the Devil by the tail...

mood: crappy

music: Father's obnoxiously loud TV D:

*points to title above* YAY IT'S ST. PATTY'S DAY :D

Which is also my mother's birthday.

WHO IS NAMED PATTYYYY :D (well, Patricia, but whatever.)

Which means I get to feel bad for about the third year in a row D:

So, for some reason, I was expecting this holiday to be on a Sunday, right? I was planning to wake up early and force my father to help me with a whole big breakfast for my mama's b-day. But it falls on a MONDAY of course. I OFFER to stay home from school to keep mom company - who had taken the day off from hell her work - but alas, to no avail.

Then after school, she comes to pick me up after picking up pop and I ask her how her birthday is going and she just kind goes, "Meh."

LIKE THE LAST NEARLY THREE YEARS.

I remember once she had gotten so upset on her birthday thanks to DADDY-KINS, for some stupid reason, and was CRYING, for God's sake. ON. HER. BIRTH. DAY.

And we never do anything special for her, it seems. "We", as in my father and I. 

We go out to T.G.I.F's to eat 'cause mom loves to go out to eat. Then when we get back, we give her her presents a bit later on, and I don't know WHAT my pop's problem is, but he was RUSHING me to fill out my card for her and was complaining that
I was drawing a damn simple-as-hell shamrock on the card 'cause I wanted to make it St. Patricksy D:<

Me: Don't you want to make this at least SOMEWHAT special?!
Pop: As long as it doesn't eat up too much of my time!

OR something along those lines. And I don't know whether he was joking or not, because sometimes it's difficult to tell. And he wanted to give her the stupid sweatshirt we bought for her STILL IN THE JCPENNY'S BAG DDDD:< I got a bag for it from the closet anyway, BUT STILL.

Oh, yes. So pop had the bright idea my mom needed a sweatshirt because she would always steal his, so we went to the mall and bought this ol' blue thing, fer like, twenty bucks. For mother didn't know what she WANTEDDDD.

She HATED it, of course. Well, probably not HATED, but it wasn't WANTED or NEEDED. She said she didn't need it. And she even discussed this with me before, and I SOMEWHAT quote: "He's (as in, my dad) just going to go out and buy me something I'm going to wind up returning anyway. And if that's being ungrateful, then I already ask for God's forgiveness."

So, basically, I think she had a crappy birthday. Again. Then after she had asked for ice cream and I got it for her, I had this idea to take a piece of the cake she made yesterday, and make a shamrock on it with hershey syrup. So, I start it, right? Then she comes WALZTING out and I hover my body as close as possible to it as the chocolate syrup is pouring out over the whole damn thing going, "DON'T LOOK DON'T LOOK WHATAREYOUDOING YOU CAN'T LOOK @_@" then she must've seen the bit of chocolate-ness and goes, "Oh, honey, don't make that for me D:"

... ;_;

Well, at least, at Friday's, mom mentioned she wanted to go to a St. Patrick's parade, so hopefully we can do that. It'll be a belated present.

There you go, drama, complain complain. Sorry, this whole thing just kind of got me in a rotten mood. I was hoping to have a jolly update, but ohwell. Sorryyyyyyy. 

Now excuse me while I go finish my Bio homework so I can take a SHOWER for there are WOODCHIPS in my HAIR.