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Hey, you, over there, you can stop whispering. I know it's about me, and you might as well just say it.
That's what I feel like most times. To keep it short, I like to wear crazy stuff. I'll wear black-and-white Converse with blue and white candy stripe socks, and pink, white, and black zebra sunglasses. And hippie-style headbands with real flowers on my ear. I wear glasses, and I'm going to get braces. I can only imagine what it will be like entering middle school with glasses, braces, and a crazy sense of style.
My brother is the worst. He calls me a loser and he punches and kicks me. It hurts, but I don't say anything. I guess I'm just stubborn like that. To be honest, he's scary. He's in tenth grade and I'm in fifth.
Anyway, most of the boys in my class already laugh at me. And the girl with makeup-overload disease. I'm serious, her eyelashes are so covered in mascara, they clump together and look like laser beams. I'm not allowed to wear makeup.
On top of all that, I'm super shy. I don't like speaking publicly, but I love acting.
Hey, you, you can whisper. You can wear your wedges, makeup, and miniskirt, and I'll wear my tie-dye shirt, Converse, and cutoff shorts.
In short, what I'm saying is that you don't have to wear makeup and high heels to be pretty. Go ahead, wear flip-flops, toe socks and hippie head bands. If you get discouraged, try listening to "Loser Like Me" for inspiration.
I'm signing off now.
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