Ginger Al

Lately, I have been sassy. I make remarks that are really just uncalled for, all for the sake of sounding funny, or of lending some sarcasm to the conversation. It's not nice, but I truly don't mean to be cruel.
For example: Room-mate Stacey is showing me her new black dress from J. Crew, justifying her purchase...
Stace: It's very versatile. I can wear it for weddings--
Sassy Allie: and funerals.
Enraged Stace: Just shut up. It's a great dress. Shut your big pie hole!
...She was mad, even though she denies it. And I was taken aback. I was just working off of her, and the opposite of weddings is funerals, and the dress is black... I just shouldn't have gone there.
Another example is how betchy my attitude is about my upcoming birthday. I go through a birthday cycle where one year I tell my friends I want to have a fun, fun, fun birthday, full of cakes, and music, and dress-up. Then there is the other side of the spectrum (occurring this very year) where I announce to my friends that I am not planning anything for my birthday, and I don't even care about celebrating; it's not worth it. Maybe it's because I build up the fun factor on the first year too much that I get disappointed and the next year I am too bitter from the previous year to plan anything. And then after a mellow birthday, I want a fun, fun, fun one again the next year.
When you are younger, birthdays are sooooooooooooooooooooo fun. You wake up, and mom has cooked you pancakes and hot chocolate (and whipped cream). You get to open a few presents from relatives who live far away (Usually cash which every American child loves). You put on a new outfit and feel so cool (I remember a particular baby pink"Bebe" brand tee shirt and some sparkly bracelets when I turned fourteen). Then you get ready for your party, helping mom with the streamers and balloons, while dad runs out and picks up some quality fast food (In & Out Burgers, what else?). BFFs start arriving, and you quickly turn on the Mariah Carey or Backstreet Boys (those were my two standards). Pizza is gorged, lip-synching ensues, presents are opened... "a Hollywood Hair Barbie? Thank you!" "The Titanic soundtrack? You shouldn't have!" Then for the next three days, you have leftover birthday cake for breakfast.

Here's an example of my sass. I make fun of my friends behind their backs. I'm sorry, Cory: