Gyaru nails vs dolly kei nails

While looking through pictures online on Tumblr and postings of the Grimoire shop staff, I couldn’t help but notice the differences in gyaru nails and dolly kei nails. I apologize if any of these nails are anyone’s personal design. I just searched random images on Google and collected these through image sites like Tumblr. If you want me to take one down, please let me know.

Which style do you think is best? ^^

Gyaru Kei Nails

Think Cat Woman and imagine the girl you don’t want to get in a fight with. Deadly, sharp, and (at times) long. The nails are as loud as the style itself.

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Dolly Kei Nails

Short, neat, and clean cut. Rounded tips. Definitely the type of girl whose ass you could whoop in a fist fight. Dark and morbid. Think fairy tale gone wrong.

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Both styles are beautiful in their own way, but I think my heart points more towards dolly kei nails. They just look so regal and, just like the style, they remind me of morbid fairy tales. I wish I didn’t have to wipe asses for a living. I can’t wait until the day I can decorate my nails instead of seeing them deteriorate from use of latex gloves. I don’t think all gyaru nails must be overly decorated and super long though. Some styles are cute and short. I’m not such a fan of the super long gyaru nails. They remind me too much of the stereotypical “ghetto” nails that black women are always portrayed wearing.

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Why is that it’s “cute” when Asian girls do it, but, when black women do it, it’s considered “ghetto”? :x

Any Black Woman Can Get the Video Model Body

Reblogged from Hip-Hop Fever's Weblog:

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PAY ATTENTION BEAUTIFUL

You can have a gorgeous body like Beyonce Knowles, Ashanti, Melysaa Ford or Kim Kadarshian.  It is absolutely possible at any for any Black or Latina women to have a gorgeous body.  I don’t care about genetics.  I don’t care if you had a baby.  I don’t care if you had three babies.  You can have a gorgeous body; it just takes a bit of work.

Read more… 1,376 more words

This post was a life saver <3

Chinatown and my birthday

I turned 24 years old on April 22.

I’m not sure what to say about that. I’m getting old, maybe? No? Not sure.

Nothing was done on that day. I just stayed home all day by myself. My mom did bring me a card, cake, and ice cream though so that completely made my day. That was all I needed… Or, at least, I thought so.

What I really wanted to do was go to China Town in Atlanta.

Yes, I said China Town in Atlanta. I didn’t know there was one. Ok, it’s not a “town”. It’s no China Town in California so don’t expect anything fancy. It’s just a little mall strip that caters to Chinese customers. I know my birthday was a while ago, but I wanted to wait until I got the chance to go to China Town to write a blog entry about it and, in my family, we don’t usually celebrate birthdays or holidays on the actual day of the birthday/holiday. We wait until pay days or days off or sales.

Today was that special day so off we went.

Unfortunately, we went immediately after I got off of work so I didn’t get to dress gyaru or anything. I was literally in my work uniform. How boring. Some of these are my own photos and some of these are photos right off of the website. I’m sure you can tell which ones I took (the shitty ones).

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^ The “entrance”. See what I mean?

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^ Their beautiful garden! Old Asian men play Chinese checkers here and they are very serious about the game. Don’t mess with them.

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^ Shiseido… Are they a popular name brand? I have no idea. I couldn’t afford any of their items anyway.

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^ The food court. Just about all the menu’s were in complete Chinese so I had absolutely no idea what was what, but they had hanging featherless ducks and chickens so I figured it must be good.

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^ I finally decided on this store called “China Kitchen”. That huge wall back there with Chinese written all over it is their menu. I clearly exuberated the WTF face so the kind Chinese lady working the cash register was nice enough to hand me an English menu. Thank you.

The best thing about this trip was the book store. They carried just about every Chinese book you could think of. They even had books on how to learn Chinese and I was going to buy it until I saw this in the magazine section:

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It’s the April and March issue of Popteen (sadly, no May issue) and they were only $5 each. My eyes lit up like a kid in candy store, but my mom didn’t understand.

“Why are you buying it if you can’t read it?”

She will never understand.

They also had ViVi and a bunch of others magazines, but no other popular gal magazines like Happie Nuts or Egg. I was actually hoping for a magazine with more heavier gyaru make-up. Popteen was always too light and simple in my opinion and I almost thought I wasted my money until I opened it.

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I was sold. I love Popteen now :)

While looking at the magazines, the lady at the cash register walked up to me (out of everyone in the store) and asked, “Can I help you?” Translation: “What the fuck are you doing here?” I must have looked completely lost TT_______TT I looked around me and everyone else was Chinese reading Chinese books. They fit in perfectly. And here I was. Some 5’10”, fat black chick in scrubs. I stood out like a sore thumb.

I didn’t get to dress gyaru while I was at China Town, but I did get to practice the day after ^___^

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Then my dog, Poopie, snuck in a shot or two *^____^*

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He just looked so cute with his head popping out of my blankets. Like a hybrid rat or something, lol.

The best birthday present of all though would have to be me getting to spend three whole days with my boyfriend. We hadn’t seen each other in about 2 months. I had the most fun ever with him and his friends. Those three days went by entirely way too fast. I can’t wait to see him again <3

Narada: My Guardian Angel

I promised I would tell the story of Narada so here goes. I was snooping around on my old Xanga blog and found this. It is a letter I wrote to him on Yahoo messenger when I was 16 years old. Blacksheep80897 is my old Yahoo messenger name (emo, much?). It is completely unedited. I wrote this on the exact same day he died so I may have said some things that were… “off”. I decided to keep the grammar errors and all. I continued writing letters like this to him on MySpace years after his death updating him on my life and telling him ‘happy birthday’. He was never my “boyfriend”, but, in a way, I wish he was at the time. He was a truly great guy. I viewed him as my guardian angel. He is the main reason why I started The Angel Project (I’ll explain this later). I even cry while reading this now.

 

 

Hey, this will be my last entry in this journal. I just wanted to say that Narada Bonds, my bestest friend in the whole world, passed away yesterday at 8:35 p.m. in a car wreck…He was on his way home from work. I just found out about it a few hours ago today. It was also on the news. They said it was a head on collision with an SUV…They said he didn’t feel anything, but that’s what they always say to make you feel better.

Here is a letter I wrote to him on Yahoo messenger…Even though he will never be able to read it.

blacksheep80897: Narada, I’m sorry. I know you will never get a chance to read this, but I just wanted to say that I love you. I always wated to tell you that, but I guess I waited too late. I’m so sorry. You were the bestest friend I’ve ever had. Seriously. You never left me. You were always nice. You were always there. I will always love you. You were the greatest person I ever met. You didn’t deserve this. Not now. Not so soon. And I wanted to tell you that I love black men just like how you told me you love black women. I should have went to that party with you. I really shoud have. How could I have been so stupid. I said that I wanted to go to see that stupid peach drop. I said that I wanted to go to Downtown Atlanta to see that stupid as peach with my brother before he left to Valdosta.

blacksheep80897: But I can still talk to my brother. I can’t talk to you anymore. I’m so sorry. That was the worst mistake I’ve ever made. I should have went with you. I miss you so much. I was going to call you today. I watched the Gungrave anime. It was great. It was the best anime I’ve ever watched. My favorite. I was going to call you and tell you that. I told yuor grandma that you loved her so much and that she was your best friend…Well it probably didn’t come out right cause I was crying, but I told her as best as I could.

blacksheep80897: You didn’t get to finish your story. It was the best story I’ve ever read. If I can, I will get your journal from your room and put it in my memories drawer. I promise. Along with those kewl Marvel posters you gave me. You didn’t get to finish reading the Gungrave manga series either. At least you got to read up to book 3 or 4. I miss you so much. You were my best friend. My only friend. I wanted to tell you “I love you”. You deserved it. But I was too busy wasting my “I love you”‘s on that bastard, Raul- Someone who didn’t deserve it. Your parents love you Narada. Your mom too. Even if you said that they were mean to you sometimes, they love you. I’m sure they were just being strict on you ecause they love you so much. They didn’t want to see you get hurt.

blacksheep80897: Remember when I wrote you that message on Xanga that was all Oprah-ish? I meant every word I said. You told me not to talk like that, but I am so fucking glad that I did. You deserved every word of it. You were the only person who left me messages on Xanga. You were the only one who cared. Thank you so much. Bad things always happen to good people. You were so good. You didn’t deserve this. I promise, when I grow up, I will avenge your death. I will. I promise. Everyone will know about you and they wil say, “he was a really great man”. Even though you didn’t get to fully develop into a man physically, you were always a man mentally. In every way. I’m so sorry that you died a virgin. You said that you didn’t want to find some random girl to fuck. You wanted a girl that really loved you.

blacksheep80897: I know this may sound too provocative, but I wish I would have let you take my virginity away. It would have been great. But nooo I always said that I didn’t want to be your girlfriend. You died without ever having a real girlfriend. All those other girls never really cared about you. I did and I still do. I change my mind about that whole “friends with benefits” thing. You were my boyfriend all along. The best boyfriend I’ve ever had. But I was too dumb to see that. I feel so cold and so numb right now. These words are just pouring out of my head. I have 81 people on my Yahoo messenger list, but it doesn’t even matter anymore. You were the only one that list that really counted. I miss you so much. Is this all just a dream? This can’t be real. Why you?? Of all people.

blacksheep80897: I promise that I won’t commit suicide. I will stay strong for you. I won’t get depressed either. No more cutting. No more mental hospitals. You said that you were always depressed and that you wanted to commit suicide, but, no, I’m glad you didn’t. You went out like a true man. I will never forget you. I never did get to draw that picture for you. I’m so sorry. Before I was told about your death, I was laughing and at the movies watching The Chronicles or Narnia. Narnia?? Who gives a fuck about Narnia, now? I should have called you. My dad called my mom while in the theater. I said, “ugh, mom, your making black people look bad. Turn your cell phone off.”. Then my mom told my brother and I that we had to leave the theater. I knew it was something serious if we had to leave the theater.

blacksheep80897: My mom was on the pnone with my dad saing things like “oh lord no”. I cried. I didn’t even get to hear the bad news yet, but I cried anyway. Then she hung up the phone and said,”something terrible has happened. You will never guess who it happened to.” I automatically thought my uncle Mark, but then se said that you died in a car crash. I knew it was something bad, but I didn’t know it was something THAT bad. I just yelled no over and over again out loud and cried. I didn’t care who heard. I just didn’t care. You know, I kinda wish that it was my uncle instead of you. I know that’s mean, but god, anyone but you. We were going to go to Georgia State University together. You said that you were going to throw a huge birthday party on your brithday this year- March 15-

blacksheep80897: And you said that I was invited. I was looking forward to that party. And, trust me, I will still throw that huge party you were talkin about on March 15. We also said that we were going to throw a “I hate V-Day” party, too because we both hate Valentine’s Day. You said, “Courtney, I promise you that you won’t be lonely this Valentine’s Day. I will make this your best Valentine’s Day ever”. Now I hate V-Day even more than before. I went to your house as soon as I heard of your death. Your parents, your grandma, your step sister, step brother- Everyone was there. I don’t think it kicked into your parents yet that you are gone. I think they are in shock. Luke is still smiling though and he’s so smart. He’s too young to realize this pain. Usually, when I’m sad, I listen to music or pet my cat

blacksheep80897: to drown out the pain, but I can’t do that now. I don’t know what to do. Please, help me. I miss you so much. It seems that every time I get close to someone, they either go away or die- Just like my grandma. Just like Raul. Just like Chris…Just like you. I wanted to start this year off on a good note. I wanted to start over. I knew something bad was going to happen this year, But I didn’t know it’d be this bad. Just like what I said in my recent journal entry on Xanga, something bad always happens to me during the second semester of school. I cursed God. I challenged God. I told him to bring it on. Well, he surely did bring it on. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I think I have a curse on me. I literally, truely do. I didn’t even get to go to your church with you like we planned to do.

blacksheep80897: I just don’t know what to do anymore. But, just like I promised, I will stay strong. I promise. I will keep my head up. I won’t be depressed. I will love myself. And while I’m doing this, I will be thinking of you. Thank you so much, Narada. I must go now. My head hurts from crying. My eyes are red and puffy. I can’t stop shaking and I feel so numb and cold. But, hey, guess what? I drove around the neighborhood today. Finally. I did good. I stayed on my side of the road I promise to send you messages like this daily. I promise. I will kep you updated on my life. Goodnight, Narada. Well, I don’t even think I can sleep now. I don’t know what to do. R.I.P. Narada. Best friends forever.

Courtneynarada

I drew the Sailor Moon on the pic for him ^__^ Heheh, I remember laughing about this with him.

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This is a picture of me when I was 16 years old and I look completely hideous, but I don’t care right now. I’ve come a long way from being the ugly duckling.

NARADA(Grave) BONDS
March 15, 1988-  January 6, 2006

My protector…My guardian angel…My best boyfriend…My best friend.

Before AmeriCorps, part 4

Just copy and pasted these last few entries from an old, dead blog : /

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It took almost a year for my status to change from pending, but I’d be damned if I gave up. “I can wait as long as they want me to.” It’s not like I have anything else to do. I religiously commented in the NCCC group on Facebook and a lot of people dropped out because they got a job or started school, or just simply got tired of waiting.

Why would I get tired of waiting? I have nothing better to do.

But there was no school for me. There were no other options. I put all my eggs into one basket and hoped for the best. I tried joining the military, but that didn’t work out. Job prospects also weren’t looking so good for both me and my mom and we consoled each other. My mom became my best friend in these months and I to her as well.

One day, I nonchalantly brought the mail into the house and I saw a thin envelope from AmeriCorps. I could have fainted from the excitement. I opened it and it read “Congratulations, you are accepted into AmeriCorps NCCC on the Vinton, Iowa campus!”

Accepted wasn’t scratched out and decline wasn’t written next to it, and it was signed at the bottom. This was legit. I was ecstatic, but my mom was more vocal about than anyone else. A “congratulations” to my mom meant yelling it so the whole neighborhood could hear and calling all our relatives to let them know. It makes me wonder what would have happened if I weren’t accepted. To be honest, I applied to AmeriCorps in 2009 and didn’t get the chance serve the 2009 term, but they kept my application and it rolled over to the 2010 term. It was heart breaking to see all the 2009 prospective AmeriCorps members write on the Facebook group about how happy they were to be accepted. I felt like everyone was accepted, but me. I’m so glad I persevered through all the difficulty and rejection and was finally accepted to serve in the 2010 term instead.

I smiled while I read the paper over and over again, and watched my online status change from “pending” to “accepted” as the days passed. Everyone in the NCCC facebook group who stuck through the long wait posted with so much excitement saying that they were accepted and I followed suit.

This is the day I decided to change my life completely.

The last time I had sex was some time in September of 2008 right before my ex dumped me over the phone (it’s funny how guys always dump you right after they fuck you). From that day forward, I decided to refrain from sex completely. This included both oral and vaginal sex. No penetration what-so-ever. I wanted to remain celibate which was my dream ever since I first had sex at the age of 17. I know how much it hurts to be cheated on and used and I never wanted to feel that feeling ever again. I wouldn’t go as far as saying I was saving myself for marriage. I was never the type of girl who dreamed of being married. I never wanted to get married and I never even thought I would live long enough to get married, if I ever were to find any guy who would want to marry me anyway. Also, the whole “saving yourself for marriage” thing was always a bit sexist to me and it reminded me too much of the Christian girls in college who bullied me. I never wanted to be like them. The least I could say is that if any guy were to ever enter my body ever again, he would have to love me. That is all that I ask for.

Outside of being celibate, I also decided to become a guardian angel to any person I met who was being bullied. I, more than anyone else, should know how much it hurts to be bullied. The extent of it was far worse and continued for much longer than what I squeezed into a few paragraphs in 10 minutes. I know how much it hurts for someone to belittle you and call you names and everyone around does nothing but watch and laugh about it. I want to be that person who stands up for them and stops the bullying. I also made a promise to myself to stand up for myself more and not be such a doormat. Confrontation was always something I avoided, but I had to change if I wanted my life to be better. I should never have let the bullying in college continue on the way it did.

So I made three promises to myself before the start of AmeriCorps:

1. Remain celibate until I found the one I loved and he loved me in return.

2. Stand up for all those who are bullied.

3. Stand up for myself when I am bullied.

I took the ring Narada (I’ll describe him in another post) gave me, said a prayer over it- the last prayer I would ever pray in my life- put it on my finger, and the promises were sealed in stone. To be honest, I didn’t know who I was praying to or if whatever I was praying to existed. It was the most awkward prayer in all history of mankind. It probably got intercepted by the religious goalie or Jesus somewhere down the line. I planned to wear his ring all throughout my months in AmeriCorps to remind myself of my promises, but I was too scared that I would lose it so I bought a cheap $1 store ring to replace it which was a good decision seeing as I wore that ring every day in AmeriCorps until I lost it around the first month of wearing it TT_________________TT  I was just glad it wasn’t Narada’s ring. If it were Narada’s ring, I would have died.

The start date for AmeriCorps NCCC was February 2, 2010.

AmeriCorps sent a booklet in the mail of all the details about the program and the Vinton, IA campus. I studied that book religiously like how I should have studied in college. AmeriCorps was my exam and I was determined to pass it.

I celebrated my 21st birthday, bought all my needed essentials, and boarded a plane headed to Vinton, IA- a town I never knew existed and not even knowing exactly what the fuck I would be doing there or who the fuck I would meet.

But that is what made it so exciting :)

Before AmeriCorps, part 3

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“I’m sorry. If I had a job, this wouldn’t happen.”

My mom cried onto my shoulder while she hugged me. We just found out that in order to join AmeriCorps NCCC, I would need to pay $25 to get my finger prints to send to the AmeriCorps headquarters in Iowa. She held me so tight and I could feel my shirt starting to get wet from her tears. My mom was a successful insurance agent at a well known insurance company. Things were doing so good, she quit to start her own insurance business. This was a few months before the big recession hit. We found out that the company she got the business loan from was a scam and she was never able to successfully start her business and, instead, left us with a bunch of debt. This was her second year without a job. At night I could hear her crying through the bedroom walls and I would cry with her without her knowing. Because of this, my mom blamed everything on her not having a job. The stars could have fell out of the sky that night and my mom would have still said, “If I had a job, this wouldn’t have happened.”

Joining AmeriCorps NCCC became my life goal. I thought, “I don’t want to be a nobody like my ex. If I join AmeriCorps, I will make my parents proud.”

If I didn’t pay the $25 and send the prints in in time, I wouldn’t be able to join. I remember the days when $25 used to be nothing, but now it’s everything. $25 now to us might as well be $50.

We pulled a desperate move. I woke up one day and my mom had a crazy look in her eye. Crazy with joy. We rummaged the house for anything we thought was valuable and stacked it all up in the back of the car. My sewing machine (that I never learned how to use, but somehow never wanted to give away because “I will learn one day”, I would say), my guitar (never learned how to use this either, but kept it for the same reasons), some early 90′s looking fax machine, and my mothers most prized possession: her mothers jewelry. I looked at her surprised with a “please don’t sell it expression on my face” and she nodded with a smile. My grandma passed away a few years ago and my mom has been torn up about it ever since.

We hopped in the car and, for the first time in our lives, rode to a pawn shop and one of those “We buy gold here!” shops. We went in just as fast as we came out. Apparently, the jewelry isn’t worth the shit off our shoes and the rest totaled to barely $20.

I’m not selling my prized guitar (from Walmart, btw) for $10, I thought.

We turned up our nose and jumped back in the car with much less excitement than we started with. We were hoping for at least $100. When we got home, we looked at each other and laughed.

Me, the college drop out, and, my mom, the unemployed senior. We never in our lives thought that we would live like this. Pretty soon, the trash man stopped coming to pick up our trash because we couldn’t pay him anymore so we had to take our own trash to a place to dispose of it. Our lights went out at times, we barely had any food, and the hot water stopped working. It sounds depressing, but I always saw lights out days as family fun days. I loved curling up in a blanket reading by candlelight and talking with my family. When the lights go out, people change.

We lived paycheck to paycheck on my dad’s salary. He was the only person paying the bills in our 3 person household (my brother moved out). To make matters worse, my dads health was slowly declining and he could barely walk on his right leg- the very leg that he uses for work. My dad drives for a living for a healthcare company. If my dads leg goes out, we are through.

Luckily, we were able to manage $25 out of my dads paycheck to get my finger prints and send them into AmeriCorps NCCC, but did they arrive in time?

I received an e-mail from AmeriCorps telling me that my application was declined.

My whole world fell apart when I read that. Which brings me back to my mom crying on my shoulder telling me this wouldn’t have happened if she had a job and, in return, I cried thinking this wouldn’t have happened if I had a job. I cried with her and told her it wasn’t her fault. We did all we could do. I called AmeriCorps to see if they may have made a mistake and, for a second, I almost started to believe in God again.

They actually admitted to making a mistake on my application and changed my “decline” status to “pending”. My family breathed the biggest sigh of relief and it was such a happy moment. Pending isn’t accepted, but anything is better than declined.

Before AmeriCorps, part 2

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He screamed through the phone. So loud, my friends could hear because they were sitting right next to me. “GET A JOB!” The voice is my boyfriend, Morris, the one who made me happy. The one who dropped out of college and has nothing to do all day but smoke weed and a dead end part time job at a plant nursery. We dated for 10 months. I get a call a few days later, “I have good news and I have bad news: The bad news is that I’m breaking up with you and the good news is that we can still be friends.”

Why would I want to be friends with a guy who cheated on me?

It was the second time in life I had been friend zoned, the second time I had been cheated on, and the sixth time I had been rejected. My voice is smooth. I say “ok” and hang up. I have too much pride to give any answer, but a simple answer. I successfully pulled another one of my famous silent cries- cries so silent no one would ever notice you were crying if they weren’t looking at you. It took me years to master this art. Afterwards, to soothe his guilty conscience, he sends me a text telling me how awesome I am.

Why did you cheat on me if I’m so awesome?

Being called awesome right after a guy cheats on me and dumps me after putting me in the friend zone is something I’ve grown used to. Because of this, I’ve grown a hatred for the word “awesome”.

I lost my boyfriend and my friends continued to bully me. It was final exam week and I was seated in my desk in my algebra class taking the final exam that would determine my fate. If I failed, I would be a college drop out like my ex. If I passed, I would transfer schools and live a successful life. The papers were passed out and I dove in to answer the first question. The WTF expression was all over my face. “That’s ok. Maybe the next question will be better.” Nope. I actually flopped over on my desk and did another one of my famous silent cries right in the middle of class thinking that I’m going to get kicked out of college and become a prostitute because isn’t that what they teach you in school? If you don’t graduate, you’re nothing.

The exam was over and the teacher passed out little folded sheets of paper. If you passed, it would read “Congratulations, you passed!” in big bold letters. Everyone around me cheered and jumped and screamed, others were silent. I took a second to open mine, but I had a good idea what my fate would be.

Mine read “Congratulations, you passed! failed!”

Passed was scratched out and failed was written next to it in pen.

I was given the chance to appeal it and the only way to do that was to write a one page essay describing why I should get a second chance and drive 3 hours from my house near Atlanta to Tifton, GA to speak with the school board in person and read them my paper. Writing has always been my strong point so the paper was a piece of cake. It was saving up enough money to make the 3 hour drive that was hard. Despite our money situation, my parents saved up enough money and made the 3 hour drive to Tifton in a desperate attempt to save my life. My mom and I waited in the office to get a chance to speak with the school board. She said a prayer over me and we held hands. Before making the drive, the person I talked to over the phone sounded 200% positive that my appeal would get approved because, outside of those two classes, my grades were great, but, within 10 minutes of arriving to Tifton, the receptionist walked into the office where we sat waiting and told us that my appeal was denied. We saved up gas money and drove 3 hours for less than 1 minute of conversation of what could have been told to us over the phone. I never even got the chance to speak with the school board or read my paper.

My fate was decided. I was kicked out of college and banned from attending all colleges within the state of Georgia (excluding technical colleges and private colleges) for 3 years.

And, in a sick way, I was happy because I knew this meant I was free to donate one year of my life to serving in AmeriCorps NCCC.

And no more math!

I immediately balled the paper up that I held in my hands and we made the 3 hour drive back home.

Before AmeriCorps, part 1

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I knew I wanted to join AmeriCorps NCCC the very second I read about it when I was 19 years old in college in a little town in Southern Georgia called Tifton.

Little did I know that dream would soon become my life and it would be the only thing I would think about from waking up early for my 7am algebra class (failed that class horribly, by the way… Who the fuck in their right mind signs up for a 7am algebra class?) to going to bed at 2am while laughing to Adult Swim and cursing my laptop for not being fast enough to play Second Life along with all the other cool kids when I should have been writing my 10 page English paper (Never wrote it… failed that class too by the way).

If you hadn’t already guessed, I was well on my way to flunking college. I didn’t know that at the time though. I was young, I was in college, and, in my mind, I had every right to fail a class… or two seeing as I did so good in school for 19 years of my life. In every nerds life, this is a turning point. A point of self realization. I learned early in life that math would hate me and I would hate it in return just as much, if not more. It’s not the failing math that surprised me; it was the fact that I failed English. It was the first time in my life I had failed any class outside of math and it was the first time I didn’t genuinely enjoy reading.

I stopped reading that year. And I stopped drawing. On my 20th birthday, I stopped believing in God. My friends threw me a birthday party which was much like a going away party because we were transferring out of the two year college scene (or, at least, that is what I planned to do). When I say “friends”, I use this word very lightly and only to let you, the reader, know that I once had a close acquaintance with these people. These people are the reason why I stopped believing in God and also probably the reason why I failed English for the first time. Yes, I’m blaming others for my down falls in life. Shoot me.

They managed to bring out my depression to the fullest extent and what was so dumb about it is that I let them. I intentionally hung around people who made me feel like shit and bullied me on a daily basis. It started off nice, like most relationships and ended horribly, like most relationships. I distinctly remember crying in my dorm room at night praying to God to make them stop bullying me, but my prayers were never answered. All throughout the party, I hear nothing but murmurs and whispers about my weight and how much of a slut I am and how big my nose is and how old I look.

“Well, your nose is too big for that hairstyle.”, she would say to my face as she sat in my dorm room using my laptop I let her borrow and they would both laugh in unison. Whenever we would talk to a guy and he mentioned anything about sex their response was always something along the lines of “Oh, we don’t do things like that. We have Christian values” while looking at me and indirectly stating “unlike her”. It was the first time in my life I had friends. My whole life, I had been an anti-social hermit and avoided people like the plague. My mom would always say, “I wish you got out more and had girl friends.” so, when college started, they basically forced me into becoming friends with these girls. For once in my life, I was normal. I had friends. And I regret it.

I was the college slut and they made sure to make sure that I knew that. I trusted the wrong guy my freshman year and ended up sleeping with him. It was the 3rd time in my life I had sex and it was my first time having sex with a black guy (it hurt like hell because his dick was so huge). It was completely out of my character, but what are the college years for? My whole life I’ve always been the “good girl” or the “nice girl” or the “quiet girl”. Why would I want to go into college with the same image I’ve had my whole life?

Newsflash: College is nothing like how they make it seem in those dumb cliche college theme Hollywood movies.

I liked him and decided to ask him out one day. We were texting back and forth. I would send a text and he would text back within a second or two. Two minutes tops. This is when I decided to ask him if he would date me and suddenly the texts stopped. He never replied back. I waited all night for his answer and cried myself to sleep that night in my dorm room. I dated an asshole in high school who ended up cheating on me. From then on, I promised myself that I would dump a guy and move on if he made me cry so I did. I didn’t want my college years to be filled with tears so I found another guy who made me happy. Of course, he got mad that I moved on and told the whole school what we did thus further proving his doucheness and further delving me into a world full being called ho, slut, and whore on the daily.

It doesn’t hurt anymore.

Outside of that, I was bullied for my religious beliefs or, should I say, my none religious beliefs. I considered myself to be an agnostic theist at the time meaning that I believed in a God, but admitted to not knowing who this God is. Everyone in southern Georgia is a Christian and, if you aren’t, they consider you to be a devil worshiper. So, not only was I a slut, I was also a devil worshiper. They (those “friends” I told you about) told me to come to their dorm room to watch a movie with them and I agreed because what are friends for? I happily walked on over to their dorm room at midnight and sat on their sofa thinking it would be another Tyler Perry movie which is bad in itself, but it was worse.

They had me watch one of those dumbass brainwashing Christian movies like Left Behind. Only people with no life watch those type of movies. I was friends with no life idiots. Before the movie started, they called me a “heathen” and had me watch the scene where the Christian characters were belittling a non-religious character. Of course, the non-religious character was evil and had no morals or care for human life. He threw tables around and acted like an animal while the Christians were pure, whole hearted good people who tried to “help” him. To make it worse, all throughout the movie, they asked me questions like “Do you hear that? Huh? Huh?!” when they mentioned scenes about going to hell and asked me if I wanted them to explain Christianity to me. They even had the audacity to get mad whenever I turned my head away and didn’t want to watch the movie because, yes, it makes perfect sense for a non-religious person to want to watch a movie about belittling their beliefs.

Why do Christians always think people don’t know what Christianity is? Christianity is one of the top three leading world religions; how would anyone not know what Christianity is? Did it ever occur to Christians that some people just purposely and intentionally choose not to believe in it?

For the first time in my life, I actually cried because my friends are so stupid.

I cried and called my mom in anger trying to explain to her the situation, but she is Christian too so it was hard for her to comprehend. Christian or atheist, Buddhist or Wiccan, we all can feel pain and we all know how we want to be treated. No matter what your beliefs are, you know right from wrong and no matter how much Christians try to cover up their bad behavior with the word “help” when they’re pushing their beliefs on someone or saying they do it out of “love” when they hate on homosexuals, they know they wouldn’t want to be treated that way.

Unsurprisingly, I was infuriated, but I didn’t show it. I didn’t flip tables over. I didn’t curse them out. I chose to not act like a wild animal like non-religious people were depicted in the movie because I knew that was how they expected me to respond. Instead, when the movie was over, I said “thank you and good night” and that was that.

Gyaru Tiny Chat meeting and finding my style

I attended my second gyaru Tiny Chat meeting on Saturday! It was so much fun ^__^

It was exciting to finally meet the girls (and guys) of the Black Gyaru of the World Facebook group.

The first meeting:

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The second meeting:

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and my look…

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I’m starting to get used to this HimeCastle wig :x

I also just recently found out that Heri, my main style inspiration, is no longer a Grimoire Girl and will no longer be dressing in the dolly kei style. I talked with my friends on the dolly kei Facebook group about it and has been officially confirmed. This shatters my heart. She was such a huge inspiration to me. I even renamed my Tumblr blog in dedication to her style. I can no longer find as many pictures of her on Tumblr and I heard that she is now selling her dolly kei clothes as the Grimoire shop.

I decided to find as many pictures of her as a could to celebrate her remembrance.

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^ Such an inspiring picture! I think it was her most popular look.

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Her style was so original and artistic. If it weren’t for her, I probably would never have became interested in dolly kei to begin with. She will truly be missed.

Between talking to members of the two groups, it has really got me into thinking what style I really want to follow. I try to narrow it down to one, but I’m not sure if I can. I love too many styles, but, oddly, as the days pass, I’m starting to realize I may be less into the gyaru style than I used to be. I’ve researched so many gyaru substyles and just when I thought I finally found the one that describes my style perfectly (mori gyaru), all the girls in the Black Gyaru of the World Facebook group shout that mori isn’t a real gyaru style and you can’t mix Mori Girl with gyaru. My heart shattered in that moment. Outside of that, the only other gyaru style I kinda liked was Hime-kaji. They say they are both the same, but I don’t think so. If I do dress gyaru, I’ll probably just stick to Hime-kaji or sexier styles such as Mode or Onee Gal, but I definitely don’t love those styles as much as dolly kei and I lost most, if not all, my interest in cult party kei and I don’t think I love Mori Girl as much as I love dolly kei. Dolly kei seems to be taking over my life.

This realization scares me. I don’t want to leave the gyaru community. It is much more active than the dolly kei community. Everyone in the dolly kei community seems more laid back. There is no dolly kei secrets website like there is a gyaru secrets website so there is way less drama. I mentioned how hard it was to choose between gyaru and dolly kei in the dolly kei Facebook group and all the girls casually recommended that I just mix the two styles together like it was no big deal. If I were to mention this in the gyaru Facebook group, they’d probably all laugh and go on some rant about how that’s not what a gyaru truly is. But I can kinda understand their frustration. If you continuously mix and match every style, then what is the point of calling it “gyaru” if it’s not really gyaru? Gyaru then loses its own unique appearance and becomes confusing.

For this reason, I never really call myself a true gyaru. I just simply say my style is inspired by gyaru kei.

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