"Free small sheep with purchase of mattress."

You should love me because I am sixteen years old and I haven't shaved my legs in weeks.
You should love me because I love my sister and I listen to hardcore.

My name is Angela Sparks.
I am sixteen years old.
I haven't shaved in weeks.
I can write.
I own a pair of hot pink fishnets.
I want to buy rainbow high-top Chucks.
I love the way a mixed-tea-aroma pours out of a freshly de-plastisized box of herbal tea. (I'm drinking peppermint tea right now. The spoon that I am stirring it with has most definitely been chewed on by a previous diner.)
I am a diarist and self-absorbed. {You couldn't tell, could you?}
I am currently reading two books that scare me.
I cut my own hair on an emotional spike.
I like rainy days better than sunny days.
In general, I don't like malls.
I am in love with a boy who waits tables at Steak N Shake. He is too old for me and he (supposedly) has a robot that I drew -on the back side of a placemat- hanging on his wall.

Robin wants a fag, to give her shopping advice.

Today Kelly apologized and told me he loved me because I looked at him too seriously.
Today Jeremy licked/kissed me on the cheek.
Today someone told me that if I hated them, they would still love me anyway. It wasn't true, but nevertheless I almost cried.

I think the [unsightly] spectacles that have been worn recently by The Boy That I Want To Hug are going to become a permanent fixture on his face. ::defeated sigh:: Oh well. You can't win 'em all.

Feel free to comment and yell at me for being so self-centered.