So, who wants to "kidnap" me next Friday at, say, 1 in the morning?

Any takers?

I don't want to have my surgery.

I have discussed this with my parents. At length. A while back. They said we'd discuss it again as the surgery got closer.
We have not.
Now it's a week away.
I DON'T. WANT. TO HAVE. THIS. SURGERY.
It's plastic surgery. I don't CARE if it's because of the cleft; the fact remains that it is plastic surgery, not for purpose, but for looks. FOR LOOKS. What's their argument? So that I'll look more "normal"? WHAT THE HELL DO I CARE IF I LOOK NORMAL? WHEN HAVE I EVER CARED ABOUT BEING NORMAL?
Well?

Okay, look.
I'm going to have this "surgery" right? I'll go through anesthesia, have the surgery. Be all groggy and crap. Miss a day of work. Have to wear bandages and crap on my face. All so I can have my face, which BY THE WAY, I'm fine with--more than fine! On some days, you know what, I actually feel that I'm pretty. Genuinely, honestly pretty--all so I can have that face changed. Again.
When the headgear, the RED device came off, I looked at myself in the mirror and it was like it wasn't my face. I was so startled by the difference that I felt ugly for a few days. I got over that (and to be honest it was probably swelling that had to do with that too), but I don't want to go through that again. I don't want to have to readjust to my face. IT'S MY FREAKING FACE. WHY ISN'T THIS MY DECISION?!
I had a pre-op thing today. The lady was all like, "You're beautiful the way you are, and if you don't want to have this surgery, I think that's fine."
And I was all thinking, "Yeah, you'd think that'd be an option, wouldn't you?"



Thaaaaaaat's why someone should "kidnap" me next Friday and we can hang out together all day, drop me off at Electrolux at my shift, avoid the surgery altogether... I'd probably get one heck of a lecture on the way home, BUT I wouldn't have the surgery. My parents wouldn't have to pay whatever minimal costs they have to, minimal because of course it's cleft-related.

They seem to have the attitude of, "Look, we can get it for cheap (or free, or whatever), so let's do it!"
That's a reasonable way of looking at, say, tickets. Free samples of food. But surgery? Maybe not so much.



Okay, go.
Shout, "Objection!"
Point out that, hey, I feel prettier now, after that last surgery, right?
Do you have any idea how filthy I feel for feeling that way?
I had plastic surgery and now I feel prettier. It's true.
It's so. freaking. shallow. And I don't want to eventually feel glad I had this surgery, either. (Let's face it: it's going to happen. That "kidnapping" plan is bull. Just a fantasy.)


What if I just went away, instead? Hmm... I don't know where I could go without suspicion. My family knows where a lot of my friends live...
I know I know. Running away from problems is stupid. But confronting didn't get me anywhere. Running away would at least show them that I mean what I say: I don't want the surgery. But they'd find me, making it ineffective. And then they'd probably ground me, making it impossible to go see Wall-E.




Whatever.
Ron awaits a not guilty, again.