God, why does everything have to try it's hardest to pop my happiness bubble?

I'm going to a masquerade--a real one, not like a convention--on Saturday, so I decided to make my own mask.
[I used the tutorial on Threadbanger.com, and I'll post pictures soon]
It's clockwork/time-themed, and it came out awesome. :]

Unfortunately, the party is semi-formal--and I've realized I have nothing to wear.
So I asked my mom to take me shopping Saturday before the party...and she threw a bitch-fit about how I never do my chores, and the house looks like shit, and I'm such a pain for leaving everything last minute.

1) My house looks like a museum. It never looks lived in. EVER. [I'm not the only one who thinks so. I've been told by multiple people.]

2) I don't do my chores very often because I have a job, and I work very late. Last weekend, I worked a total of at least 20 hours. I'm EXHAUSTED by the time I crawl through the door around 10 or 11pm. And then the next day I have to drag myself out of bed at a decent hour to try and get my clothes clean and attempt my mountain of homework for my college/AP courses. EXCUSE ME for not having the free time to go clean the horse's stall or scrub my bathroom floor until it sparkles.

3) I'm not leaving everything until last minute--my schedule is just so crammed that it's the only time I can go. Friday night I work. Saturday night is the party. Monday and Thursday I have Driver's Ed. Tuesday and Wednesday I can't get a ride anywhere but home.

I'm just so stressed out and tired of people harping on me for the tiniest things. I'm also really getting sick of the way my "friends" treat me sometimes. I know they're only teasing, but when I tell them to stop and leave me alone, they take it as a joke and just keep laughing and digging at me.
One of these days I'm just going to snap.

Honestly...should my best friend really treat me like shit? Sure, we joke around and laugh together and such. We pretend to battle each other on a daily basis, and get in playful shouting matches. And it's fun. We have a great time together, no matter what.
But the second you add another person or two into that group, whether they're a friend of mine or not, the teasing starts. I feel like they aren't actually friends with me. It's like I'm their personal punching bag, that they can verbally beat up and smack around until they get bored.
I may hate myself, but that doesn't mean I'll tolerate people lowering the bar that is my self esteem any more than it already is. At least give me a chance to pick the damn thing up off the floor before you smack it with a giant hammer.

So what if I have a terrible memory, and forget what you said during one of our many conversations twenty minutes ago? It doesn't mean I wasn't listening, "like always" as you say. I can barely remember what I did in my last class 42 minutes ago. I'm so stressed that "Id" sometimes looks like "kl" to me when I read. I find myself unable to read music in concert band. I never finish what's on my plate at meals because my appetite just disappears when I least expect it. Cut me a fucking break once in a while, will you?
So what if I often misinterpret what people say? "Bad pictures" doesn't always mean porn. It could mean blood, or drinking pictures. And just because I chime in at inopportune moments ["scrolling through my pictures?" "yeah. are there any bad ones on here--" "pictures? I wanna see!" "DO you now?! ;D"] doesn't mean you get the right to tease me and bother me and shit. People make mistakes. I'm human. Deal with it.

Also--it isn't my fucking theme song if I can't stand the song.
If I tell you to stop, I suggest you do. I'm NOT joking. So don't sit there and call me names and pound on my characteristics and then call yourself my friend.

I'm NOT a lesbian.
I'm perfectly happy liking boys--even if none of them seem to like me, except for the one's that could be Pedobear's older, hideous brothers.
I'm not saying I hate gay boys, or lesbians, or any of that. Actually, quite a few of my friends are bi, or gay. I'm perfectly comfortable treating them equally. That does NOT mean that I want to be labeled as one of them when I'm clearly not.
So don't sit and sing "Brooke is, a les-bee-uuuun!" and expect me to take it and laugh. I refuse to. I tolerated it for awhile, but I'm sick of being pushed around.

I'm me.
And if you're not happy with that, then get the hell out of my life.
Who needs you anyway?