No birthday drama, that'd be great thaaaaaaanks

So my 16th birthday is a week. I cant say I've been looking forward to it; I wont get my license for like four more months, because of the whole, "If you've had a seizure within the last six months, you're not allowed to drive" rule.

And of course, my mother is freaking out. I didn't really want a party, but since she didn't have a 'sweet sixteen,' she has to live vicariously through me.
SHE wanted to do something like rent out a ballroom and have a fancy party; I wanted to have everyone marathon all 8 Harry Potter movies.
Which she was against, to say the least.
We compromised on laser tag
It's going to be next Saturday, and the girl I've had a crush on for a year is going to be there. Needless to say, I'm excited.

The new medication has been helping some, I think. I don't feel BETTER per say, more like there's less bad days. I feel numb most of the time, but that's better than the heavy, dark feeling in my bones to go along with the numbness.

Things haven't all been good however. Today, I got an email from The Mountain, saying that the application is incomplete. They're giving me an extension, it's due by the 27th instead of the 20th. My mother, of course, forgot to inform me of said email until today.

She seems very reluctant about it.

It's just funny to me, considering The Mountain is sometimes all the keeps me going, knowing that I'm going to be there for five weeks instead of two, that I'll see old friends again, be myself, feel more at home than I do here all year.

~

A few minutes ago, she came home with four different kinds of acne treatment. I don't have BAD acne, just some spots. But I just have the skin for it, and I've come to accept that I'll probably have it for a while. But every few weeks she does this - comes home with some new treatment that does nothing but burn or make my face bright red. It bugs me that she cares for about my looks than I do - and my self-esteem is generally in the toilet. So I have troubled thoughts, and a self-esteem to match, but I still tale what peace I can make with myself.

Ah well.

In other news, we found out that my next-door neighbor, the chief of police, is now a convicted felon and is going to prison. Lovely.