Happy September.

The first thing is a visit to Office Depot/Staples/Whatever the fuck it’s called. I need to purchase things like multi-packs of scented markers and pens and liquid paper (with which to paint my fingernails and write obscenities on my jeans and then panic when I realize that really big “FUCK” won’t scratch off and my mother is going to see it and probably kill me, ohgodohgodohgod, can I borrow your jeans?! ohgodohgod) and a new backpack and some notebook paper and three shiny new binders and some little reinforcement “o”s and highlighters and .. okay then.

Then I will put on every single item of clothing I own – one at a time – and shout, “NONE OF THIS LOOKS GOOD ON ME.” and throw myself onto the bed and cry because with such UGLY clothes there is NO WAY someone is going to want to be my friend and OHMYGOD my life is SO HARD. Even the stuff I bought last weekend is WRONG WRONG WRONG.

Then I will need to call up a friend – any friend will do – and go on and on and on about how this year is going to SUCK because EVERYTHING SUCKS and ohmygod, do you think [fill in a guy's name here] will be in any of our classes this year? Because he is SO HOT and I don’t even CARE that he got arrested last year for taking four hits of acid and wandering around in traffic downtown.

In fact that kind of HELPS because now he’s, like, the first guy we’ve ever known who got arrested. And who cares that he smells like goat? ALL boys do. Just because he’s never spoken a word to me doesn’t mean there isn’t a CHANCE he will if we’re in the same math class. Oh god, I hate math class. Maybe he and I can slouch in the back together. OHMYGOD that would be SO GREAT.

After I hang up the phone I will need to experiment with my hair. Which style, exactly, says, “I’m cool and I don’t take forever to get ready I just look like this naturally!” and is it too late to get a spiral perm?

Then I’ll choose between lipgloss (so shiny! sexy!) and lipstick (sophisticated!) and eyeshadow colours (blue is so nice, isn’t it?) and then notice a giant pimple forming somewhere on my cheek and think that, if only my parents were cool, I could take the first week off from school so I wouldn’t have to go back with that giant THING on my face. I’m pretty sure OTHER people’s parents would let THEM stay home because other people’s parents actually CARE about their teenage daughter.

I will need, of course, to pack and repack my school bag – ohmygod, don’t call it a school bag, I’m not, like, three!

(Holy crap, just WRITING this is exhausting me. How the hell did I survive those years? HOW DID ANYONE SURVIVE THOSE YEARS?)

Happy September. May the angst be minimal.